A Good Soldier--Chapter 4
By Slayne
Still Rated R for big-boy language!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The next few days were
a blur of motion for the recruits. The physical torture didn't exactly let up,
but it eased into a different sort of monster that involved complex war games
and booby-trapped obstacle course that had to be worked carefully. Two of the
late-night war games involved specific missions assigned to small groups of
recruits pitted against each other. In each group, one of the soldiers had been
assigned as a 'double agent'. No one except that assigned soldier, knew who it
was, but they knew there was one. If the group worked it out and ferreted the
'traitor' out, arresting them and finishing their proper mission, they were
awarded top points. On the other hand...if they were wrong, and the 'traitor'
instead manipulated the rest of the group to the completion of their own
mission...the points went to the individual.
Corporal Burnett was unusually good at that game. Not only did she come into the
group with a professional and deliberate intent to be an important member of it,
but also she took an immediate leadership role that had even the higher-ranking
men following her. This intrigued Wayne. He accomplished the same thing in his
own life...but not the way she did it. He relied on direct intimidation and
confrontation to force himself to the forefront. Burnett manipulated the others
with stealthy psychology and acting. Half the men probably didn't know why they
wanted to follow this woman...they just knew they trusted her. And in the second
war game of the night last night...that was a fatal mistake. She was the double
agent in that game...and she deftly manipulated the group into arresting the
ranking soldier in her place. Wayne had almost felt chilled with the ease at
which she had accomplished this feat. The group then followed her blindly into
the completion of her mission. Points to Burnett.
He shouldn't have been surprised. He had seen first-hand the ease with which she
had talked to every soldier there, regardless of rank. It was one thing she had
always done well, and was an especially good trait in a Covert Ops agent. She
could talk and fit in comfortably with anyone of any rank at any time. Hell,
she'd probably make one hell of a CID officer, if she had wanted to go that
direction. Undercover work galore...and they always needed women. But internal
investigation was not everyone's favorite job choice.
She picked her way carefully through the trapped obstacle courses. Almost too
carefully. Her times were slow, but her errors were low as well. She had one of
the best success rates of any man there. And impatience was marked badly here.
Speed didn't help you if it got you killed.
The morning after the last night game, Wayne had been sent to the nearby covert
ops training school with a supply sergeant to pick up a few supplies. He sat
silently in the seat of the truck as they drove, his mind running over the past
few days. He hadn't talked to Corporal Burnett since the incident with the MP
before the night games. That incident had been running through his mind a lot
lately. He did despise incompetence, and the kid displayed it in spades
considering he was an MP, so his own reaction to it had made sense. But his
outburst towards the PFC afterwards troubled him. He usually would have let that
'prick' comment go without a sideways glance. Instead he had felt like he was
stretched tight and near breaking and had lunged at the kid in anger. He
suspected he was more than frustrated at himself over something...or someone. He
was angry. What the hell was the matter with him? He rarely did things like that
anymore. He had a flash of memory at the thought. Him, a 13-year-old boy, coming
home from school, bloodied and bruised. Black eyes upon black eyes and new cuts
over the old. Clutching a three-day suspension.
"They call me names." He protested when he had caught his father's ever-present
glare.
"I don't care if they horse-whip you, son! You don't lose your temper like that.
That's never gotten any man anywhere but into a prison cell!"
Wayne had simply endured school for long years. His over-large and out of
fashion clothes set him apart from the other kids and set him up for a long life
of teasing and bullying. But he hadn't been a timid kid nor a small one. He had
learned to fight back and then had learned to close out all the whispers around
him and concentrate on his goal. He had joined the military straight out of high
school, surprising his teachers who had thought the valedictorian of the class
would be college-bound in the fall. But he had felt a bored irritation at the
thought of 4 years of classroom work, followed by a mundane life of 9 to 5
bullshit. It wasn't for him. He'd proven his intelligence and determination,
despite his poor upbringings, and felt no need to continue that path
The Army had, very surprisingly, embraced him eagerly. He was opinionated and
stubborn and not above talking when he shouldn't...but the Army's discipline and
rigid structure had agreed with him and he thrived in it. Here, he could
challenge himself to the limit. He could drive himself to whatever levels he
wished and no one was going to stop him because of stereotypes or class. The
Army gave him a clear code of conduct and the chance to protect his country and
its way of life. He eagerly learned the weapons, the vehicles and the history.
In short...he loved it. He could no longer imagine himself doing anything else.
The truck pulled through the gates of the Covert-Ops School and through the
miles of jungle and muddy roads that surrounded it. He had a list comprised of
several odds and ends from the various officers and grunts working the new camp,
and had a few things to pick up for himself as well. He, Will and Brad had also
decided on the various obstacles that would make up the final test for the camp,
and they'd need supplies to set it all up. He left the list with the training
school's supply sergeant and then went to the commissary to fill the odds and
ends list. He was standing at the counter, patiently waiting for the PFC there
to box up everything, when he turned and saw the table of paperback books. He
glanced at them, and then did a double take as one seemed to jump out at him and
inspire images of a cool and determined Corporal with brown hair and green eyes.
He reached out and picked up the book, studying it. It wasn't the same edition
as the one Burnett had...but it was the same book. He hesitated for a brief
moment and then threw it up on the counter in front of the surprised PFC. When
the kid gave him a curious look, Wayne scowled.
"You got a problem, Private?"
"No sir!" The PFC lowered his head and threw the book into one of the boxes.
Wayne took it out again and shoved it into the cargo pocket of his Camouflage
BDU pants. He thumbed through it on the ride back to base, and found the sonnet
that Burnett had recited to him on the trail. He read it through several times
and it made no more sense to him now than it did then. He tried to read more and
quickly became discouraged. Why would anyone want to read stuff like this?
He got back to the remote camp in time for mess and ate with Brad, who filled
him in on the day's activities. They settled in at the makeshift beer bar after
mess and discussed what they'd have to do the next day. Will joined them a few
minutes later. They were debating whether or not to cut the LT who had set the
false booby trap off on the trail, when Wayne saw Corporal Burnett walk in. He
was surprised at first, since he had not seen her here before, but then he
didn't spend every night here. He watched as she took in the room, her gaze
shuffling over him and Will before finding a small group of recruits in the
corner. She went to join them and was greeted by smiles and polite nods. Wayne
realized that the recruits in that circle had already proven themselves the
intellectuals of the class and spent their time theorizing tradecraft and
talking shop about Intelligence. He wondered if she knew them well. Did they
call her by her first name? What was the nickname for the name 'Alison'? Allie?
She looked like an Allie.
"Wayne? Hello?"
Wayne jumped as a hand suddenly shook his shoulder. He looked towards Brad's
grinning face and glared.
"What?"
"What're you so interested in?"
"Nothing."
Will shook his head and looked at the far table of recruits. "You've had your
eye on her since the day she arrived. She's cute."
Wayne glanced at him and said nothing. Jesus Christ...did it show? Had everyone
noticed?
"She's struggling though...maybe she needs a little 'extra attention'?" Will
grinned at him. Wayne ignored him, and Brad shook his head and made a sound of
disgust.
"How exactly does one get to be a Major by thinking with his dick?" Greengrass
asked darkly.
"Aw Christ, I'm just kidding, Brad!" Will stood and stretched and clapped Wayne
on the shoulder. "All the same...you'd better move fast, she won't be here for
the end. There's no way she's getting through this camp, right?"
Wayne glanced at him and felt a sudden prick of foreboding. What the hell did he
mean by that? He watched as the Major walked across the room and made a comment
to the table of recruits, drawing laughter from them.
"I don't like the way he jokes about women all the time," Brad muttered grimly.
"He makes more Indian jokes than sexist comments," Wayne replied, glancing at
him.
"We're called Native Americans, redneck. Get politically correct!" Greengrass
grinned at him, teasingly.
"Is that the best stereotype you could come up with for a southern boy?"
"Well, for you...the other would be 'he was a quiet guy, kind of a loner...'
after the severed heads are discovered in your freezer."
"And they'll all be Second Lieutenant's heads, I promise."
Brad laughed and shook his head. "Hey...what's the difference between a PFC and
a Second Lieutenant?"
Wayne knew this joke and a corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "The PFC's been
promoted."
Brad grinned. "Should have known you'd heard that one! I hate saluting those
butter bars!"
Wayne actually grinned now at the derogatory term for Second Lieutenants
straight out of Officer's School, their LT bar gold instead of silver. It was
the curse of the enlisted man. No matter how high you climbed, you still had to
salute every fresh young LT that crossed your path. Wayne couldn't imagine how
he would feel about that in another 10 years, when he was nearing 40 and the
young LT's were significantly younger than him.
Will came back and gave Wayne a look. "That Intel Sergeant has an eye for
her, Wayne. You'd better get moving."
"It's not an option, Will. I'm not talking about it."
Will shrugged. "It happens all the time out there." He nodded towards the door
as if saying it happened all the time right outside on the camp lawn. "You don't
have to marry her. Serving together in a foreign country makes for strange
bedfellows!"
"There are women outside the Army, Will."
"Not for you, Wayne. No woman outside of this life is going to put up with you!"
Wayne lifted a corner of his mouth in a smile, but he stared stonily at the
floor. Will was right. His relationships with women outside of the military had
been spectacularly unsuccessful. Well...the ones in the military weren't
necessarily a success either, but he had neither the time, nor the desire to
find the time, to put the required effort into them to make them work.
"You're both in the enlisted ranks."
"But I'm her instructor. That means she's a subordinate right now. The
regulations state..."
"Oh Christ, Wayne. Don't start quoting the regs...you know I hate that!" Will
actually glared at him.
Wayne shrugged and took a swallow of his beer. Will continued, pointing a finger
into his chest.
"Besides, I've seen you ignore regulations and even orders occasionally."
Wayne set his glass on the counter. "Yes...on those rare occasions when the regs
will hurt a mission, I'll say fuck 'em, but I can't think of one single
situation where I'd turn to a female subordinate and say 'Snap to, Private.
We're all gonna die in this battle unless you get on your knees and blow me.'"
That brought a smile back to Will's face and even Brad broke out laughing. Wayne
just lifted one corner of his mouth as usual. Again, he thought...he wasn't
completely without a sense of humor. Will clapped him on the shoulder.
"You're like a big bad, very, very scary boy scout, Wayne."
Wayne thought that was all right. It was a hell of a lot better than being a
slacker after all.
TBC..........
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
By Slayne
Still Rated R for big-boy language!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The next few days were
a blur of motion for the recruits. The physical torture didn't exactly let up,
but it eased into a different sort of monster that involved complex war games
and booby-trapped obstacle course that had to be worked carefully. Two of the
late-night war games involved specific missions assigned to small groups of
recruits pitted against each other. In each group, one of the soldiers had been
assigned as a 'double agent'. No one except that assigned soldier, knew who it
was, but they knew there was one. If the group worked it out and ferreted the
'traitor' out, arresting them and finishing their proper mission, they were
awarded top points. On the other hand...if they were wrong, and the 'traitor'
instead manipulated the rest of the group to the completion of their own
mission...the points went to the individual.
Corporal Burnett was unusually good at that game. Not only did she come into the
group with a professional and deliberate intent to be an important member of it,
but also she took an immediate leadership role that had even the higher-ranking
men following her. This intrigued Wayne. He accomplished the same thing in his
own life...but not the way she did it. He relied on direct intimidation and
confrontation to force himself to the forefront. Burnett manipulated the others
with stealthy psychology and acting. Half the men probably didn't know why they
wanted to follow this woman...they just knew they trusted her. And in the second
war game of the night last night...that was a fatal mistake. She was the double
agent in that game...and she deftly manipulated the group into arresting the
ranking soldier in her place. Wayne had almost felt chilled with the ease at
which she had accomplished this feat. The group then followed her blindly into
the completion of her mission. Points to Burnett.
He shouldn't have been surprised. He had seen first-hand the ease with which she
had talked to every soldier there, regardless of rank. It was one thing she had
always done well, and was an especially good trait in a Covert Ops agent. She
could talk and fit in comfortably with anyone of any rank at any time. Hell,
she'd probably make one hell of a CID officer, if she had wanted to go that
direction. Undercover work galore...and they always needed women. But internal
investigation was not everyone's favorite job choice.
She picked her way carefully through the trapped obstacle courses. Almost too
carefully. Her times were slow, but her errors were low as well. She had one of
the best success rates of any man there. And impatience was marked badly here.
Speed didn't help you if it got you killed.
The morning after the last night game, Wayne had been sent to the nearby covert
ops training school with a supply sergeant to pick up a few supplies. He sat
silently in the seat of the truck as they drove, his mind running over the past
few days. He hadn't talked to Corporal Burnett since the incident with the MP
before the night games. That incident had been running through his mind a lot
lately. He did despise incompetence, and the kid displayed it in spades
considering he was an MP, so his own reaction to it had made sense. But his
outburst towards the PFC afterwards troubled him. He usually would have let that
'prick' comment go without a sideways glance. Instead he had felt like he was
stretched tight and near breaking and had lunged at the kid in anger. He
suspected he was more than frustrated at himself over something...or someone. He
was angry. What the hell was the matter with him? He rarely did things like that
anymore. He had a flash of memory at the thought. Him, a 13-year-old boy, coming
home from school, bloodied and bruised. Black eyes upon black eyes and new cuts
over the old. Clutching a three-day suspension.
"They call me names." He protested when he had caught his father's ever-present
glare.
"I don't care if they horse-whip you, son! You don't lose your temper like that.
That's never gotten any man anywhere but into a prison cell!"
Wayne had simply endured school for long years. His over-large and out of
fashion clothes set him apart from the other kids and set him up for a long life
of teasing and bullying. But he hadn't been a timid kid nor a small one. He had
learned to fight back and then had learned to close out all the whispers around
him and concentrate on his goal. He had joined the military straight out of high
school, surprising his teachers who had thought the valedictorian of the class
would be college-bound in the fall. But he had felt a bored irritation at the
thought of 4 years of classroom work, followed by a mundane life of 9 to 5
bullshit. It wasn't for him. He'd proven his intelligence and determination,
despite his poor upbringings, and felt no need to continue that path
The Army had, very surprisingly, embraced him eagerly. He was opinionated and
stubborn and not above talking when he shouldn't...but the Army's discipline and
rigid structure had agreed with him and he thrived in it. Here, he could
challenge himself to the limit. He could drive himself to whatever levels he
wished and no one was going to stop him because of stereotypes or class. The
Army gave him a clear code of conduct and the chance to protect his country and
its way of life. He eagerly learned the weapons, the vehicles and the history.
In short...he loved it. He could no longer imagine himself doing anything else.
The truck pulled through the gates of the Covert-Ops School and through the
miles of jungle and muddy roads that surrounded it. He had a list comprised of
several odds and ends from the various officers and grunts working the new camp,
and had a few things to pick up for himself as well. He, Will and Brad had also
decided on the various obstacles that would make up the final test for the camp,
and they'd need supplies to set it all up. He left the list with the training
school's supply sergeant and then went to the commissary to fill the odds and
ends list. He was standing at the counter, patiently waiting for the PFC there
to box up everything, when he turned and saw the table of paperback books. He
glanced at them, and then did a double take as one seemed to jump out at him and
inspire images of a cool and determined Corporal with brown hair and green eyes.
He reached out and picked up the book, studying it. It wasn't the same edition
as the one Burnett had...but it was the same book. He hesitated for a brief
moment and then threw it up on the counter in front of the surprised PFC. When
the kid gave him a curious look, Wayne scowled.
"You got a problem, Private?"
"No sir!" The PFC lowered his head and threw the book into one of the boxes.
Wayne took it out again and shoved it into the cargo pocket of his Camouflage
BDU pants. He thumbed through it on the ride back to base, and found the sonnet
that Burnett had recited to him on the trail. He read it through several times
and it made no more sense to him now than it did then. He tried to read more and
quickly became discouraged. Why would anyone want to read stuff like this?
He got back to the remote camp in time for mess and ate with Brad, who filled
him in on the day's activities. They settled in at the makeshift beer bar after
mess and discussed what they'd have to do the next day. Will joined them a few
minutes later. They were debating whether or not to cut the LT who had set the
false booby trap off on the trail, when Wayne saw Corporal Burnett walk in. He
was surprised at first, since he had not seen her here before, but then he
didn't spend every night here. He watched as she took in the room, her gaze
shuffling over him and Will before finding a small group of recruits in the
corner. She went to join them and was greeted by smiles and polite nods. Wayne
realized that the recruits in that circle had already proven themselves the
intellectuals of the class and spent their time theorizing tradecraft and
talking shop about Intelligence. He wondered if she knew them well. Did they
call her by her first name? What was the nickname for the name 'Alison'? Allie?
She looked like an Allie.
"Wayne? Hello?"
Wayne jumped as a hand suddenly shook his shoulder. He looked towards Brad's
grinning face and glared.
"What?"
"What're you so interested in?"
"Nothing."
Will shook his head and looked at the far table of recruits. "You've had your
eye on her since the day she arrived. She's cute."
Wayne glanced at him and said nothing. Jesus Christ...did it show? Had everyone
noticed?
"She's struggling though...maybe she needs a little 'extra attention'?" Will
grinned at him. Wayne ignored him, and Brad shook his head and made a sound of
disgust.
"How exactly does one get to be a Major by thinking with his dick?" Greengrass
asked darkly.
"Aw Christ, I'm just kidding, Brad!" Will stood and stretched and clapped Wayne
on the shoulder. "All the same...you'd better move fast, she won't be here for
the end. There's no way she's getting through this camp, right?"
Wayne glanced at him and felt a sudden prick of foreboding. What the hell did he
mean by that? He watched as the Major walked across the room and made a comment
to the table of recruits, drawing laughter from them.
"I don't like the way he jokes about women all the time," Brad muttered grimly.
"He makes more Indian jokes than sexist comments," Wayne replied, glancing at
him.
"We're called Native Americans, redneck. Get politically correct!" Greengrass
grinned at him, teasingly.
"Is that the best stereotype you could come up with for a southern boy?"
"Well, for you...the other would be 'he was a quiet guy, kind of a loner...'
after the severed heads are discovered in your freezer."
"And they'll all be Second Lieutenant's heads, I promise."
Brad laughed and shook his head. "Hey...what's the difference between a PFC and
a Second Lieutenant?"
Wayne knew this joke and a corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "The PFC's been
promoted."
Brad grinned. "Should have known you'd heard that one! I hate saluting those
butter bars!"
Wayne actually grinned now at the derogatory term for Second Lieutenants
straight out of Officer's School, their LT bar gold instead of silver. It was
the curse of the enlisted man. No matter how high you climbed, you still had to
salute every fresh young LT that crossed your path. Wayne couldn't imagine how
he would feel about that in another 10 years, when he was nearing 40 and the
young LT's were significantly younger than him.
Will came back and gave Wayne a look. "That Intel Sergeant has an eye for
her, Wayne. You'd better get moving."
"It's not an option, Will. I'm not talking about it."
Will shrugged. "It happens all the time out there." He nodded towards the door
as if saying it happened all the time right outside on the camp lawn. "You don't
have to marry her. Serving together in a foreign country makes for strange
bedfellows!"
"There are women outside the Army, Will."
"Not for you, Wayne. No woman outside of this life is going to put up with you!"
Wayne lifted a corner of his mouth in a smile, but he stared stonily at the
floor. Will was right. His relationships with women outside of the military had
been spectacularly unsuccessful. Well...the ones in the military weren't
necessarily a success either, but he had neither the time, nor the desire to
find the time, to put the required effort into them to make them work.
"You're both in the enlisted ranks."
"But I'm her instructor. That means she's a subordinate right now. The
regulations state..."
"Oh Christ, Wayne. Don't start quoting the regs...you know I hate that!" Will
actually glared at him.
Wayne shrugged and took a swallow of his beer. Will continued, pointing a finger
into his chest.
"Besides, I've seen you ignore regulations and even orders occasionally."
Wayne set his glass on the counter. "Yes...on those rare occasions when the regs
will hurt a mission, I'll say fuck 'em, but I can't think of one single
situation where I'd turn to a female subordinate and say 'Snap to, Private.
We're all gonna die in this battle unless you get on your knees and blow me.'"
That brought a smile back to Will's face and even Brad broke out laughing. Wayne
just lifted one corner of his mouth as usual. Again, he thought...he wasn't
completely without a sense of humor. Will clapped him on the shoulder.
"You're like a big bad, very, very scary boy scout, Wayne."
Wayne thought that was all right. It was a hell of a lot better than being a
slacker after all.
TBC..........
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^