Disclaimer You know the drill.
chapter 22
Ranma couldn't believe it had been seven days since he'd joined the team.
He'd teased them calling them Conroy-gumi but they had just thrown rolled up
sox and T-shirts and such at him and called him Ranma-sama-dono.
All in all he'd found plenty of interest in the last seven days. He'd learned how
to shoot an AK-47 and a Glock 10mm; he learned how to free rappel from a
helicopter and how to wear body armor and use all the electronic equipment that made
the job so much easier by keeping them in contact with each other.
He'd found that the men he'd scorned were just as good at their jobs as he was
at his. They had been working at cross purposes, each group trying to protect the other
from themselves. So it had been a busy week.
Now, however, Ranma was bored.
Just before sundown they'd been dropped in the middle of nowhere in the
mountains north of Nerima. Ranma was faintly familiar with the area. It was farther in
than he'd been in a long time so he was happy. The challenge was to use GPS and their
survival skills to get back to base. But they couldn't start until after midnight and they
couldn't travel during the day, so they were waiting and Ranma hated waiting.
"Let's just sit around and do nothing. Yeah . . . right . . . someone start a fight
or something."
The whole group settled in around a small fire. It wasn't much. It would
probably have fit in a large rice bowl but was fire and it was comfort.
Everyone except Ranma had been together for years so they knew each others
stories pat. but Ranma was fair game; so they began to question him like they would
anyone who joined their group. They had been too busy and too distracted by training
and the need for food and sleep during the last week but now everyone was just sitting,
anything for entertainment.
"Hey! I've got my harp, want to hear somethin'? Ranma, what kind a' music
do ya like? I can't play that techno crap you kids like but I can manage almost anything
else." Pete Franklin pulled a harmonica out of a pocket and tapped it in his hand.
Ranma was laying flat on his back with his hands under his head. "I'd like to
hear some American folk music. I've heard it's really beautiful."
Ranma started doing vertical leg crunches; his legs straight up in the air at a
ninety-degree angle to his body.
Pete played "Early One Morning" while Doug sang.
"Hey, that's good. Play me another?"
"Naw! Turn about's fair play. We entertained you, now ya gotta do the same.
Tell us how ya got here. You're too young t' have come from military so . . . what
gives?" Doug looked up for the first time. Ranma was slightly outside of the circle and
no one had been paying particular attention to what he was doing. "How long have ya
been doin' that?"
"Since ya started playin'. I'm not much for just sittn' around waitin' . . . makes
me nervous." Ranma changed to doing push ups; one handed.
"Shit! Ranma, take a break and come talk t' us we haven't had time t' just
shoot the shit . . . we've been too busy trainin' and teach-in' ya about all the equipment
and ya spent some time learning how to use that Deamondex thing. So spill. What's
your story? Unless ya think you're too good t' gossip with a bunch a' Grunts."
Conroy knew all his men wanted to know more about Ranma but every time
they got time to sit around and gossip Ranma had found some reason to get out of it.
Even studying for a calculus test for God's sake.
Ranma had wanted to avoid this but now he was trapped. He didn't want the
men to know about his Pop and other stuff but he knew he was going to have to tell
them something and he couldn't bring himself to lie.
"Ok! I know you're all curious so . . . I'll make ya a deal. Ya start a subject . .
. everyone tells a story including me. But I get t' go last . . . and none a' that how did
ya lose your virginity shit! That's none a' your business."
"Fair enough."
Most of the questions were the usual stuff; your most embarrassing moment;
favorite movies that kind of thing. Ranma answered their questions while still exercising.
He was nervous.
Finally Dave and Rio sat on him as he was doing standard push ups.
"This'll get ya. Now ya have t' be still." Rio was sitting on Ranma's shoulders
and Doug on his bottom.
Ranma turned his head slightly to look out of the corner of his eye. He smirked
at the men sitting on him.
"How much do ya weigh, Big Guy.? You and Dave together." Ranma still had
his hands flat on the ground, ready to push up.
"Rio, you weigh in at about . . . two fifty? And I weigh two hundred exactly so
both of us weight in at four fifty Why . . . eeepppps!"
Ranma continued to do push ups with both men on his back.
"Stop . . . Stop! We give . . . let us off before we fall off. We just want you to
join the circle, Baka Deshi!" The men rolled off Ranma laughing.
"What'd you call me?" Ranma narrowed his eyes jokingly. "I'm not your
student even if I am foolish. Where'd you learn Japanese? Anime?"
"Yeah, you talk good English but you swear in Japanese so we're never sure
what you're calling us. So we kinda asked around. We're too new to have gotten the
Japanese courses yet."
Ranma gave them a short run down on Japanese swearing ending, "Stick t'
English. Most Japanese people speak fair English. We have to take a foreign language
in school and most take English. It helps get a good job since English is the most
international language. You people are impossible when it comes to learning anything
but . . . " Ranma ducked a barrage of soft missiles laughing. "Ok . . . Ok . . . Pax!...
Pax!... Warui . . . Sorry, my bad. Help!"
They all jumped Ranma rolling him in the dirt and laughing. Ranma stood up and
dumped them all on the ground. Bringing about the next question aimed only at him.
"Damnit, how did you get to be so strong? You're incredible."
"I think a lot of it's genetic. My Pop is really strong too. And my Mom from
what I've heard. On top of that I've been training since I can remember. Push ups by
the time I could crawl and when I started to walk I had to run. Kata as soon as I could
remember the moves. As well as weapons. So I've got to be good. Pop beat it into me
early."
"Your Mom let your Dad get away with that shit? She let him beat you? I can't
believe it."
Conroy took over the questioning as he usually did. He knew his men well
enough to know what they would want to know and it kept the confusion down.
Besides they'd discussed this before now.
"My Mom . . . well, uh . . . I haven't seen her more than two or three times
since I was born. Pop took me off training when I was still a baby. She made some
oath with him. I'd grow up t' be a man among men or we'd both commit Seppuku."
Ranma made a face of disgust.
"Seppuku . . . what's that? I never heard of it." All the men stared at Ranma
wondering why he looked so disgusted.
"Oh! Americans usually hear the cruder term Hari-Kari. It's literally translated
as belly cut."
At their horrified expressions Ranma held out his hand's palm out. "Hey don't
look like that; I'm not cuttn' my belly over somthin' my baka oni parents decided on. I
wouldn't even mention it but you asked and I'm not lyin' about things."
"Hell, I've heard of some nutty people but . . . Ranma . . . sorry, your parents
take the cake."
Conroy shook his head.
Everyone else nodded, at least Ranma thought they did, it was getting very dark
by now. Ranma thought it might be easier to talk now; they couldn't see him and he
couldn't see them, like talking to himself.
"Tell us about that Deamondex thing. What's it for? Why do we all have to
have it?"
Ranma got his out of his pack. I was a small laptop computer with a dedicated
program. It only did two things. It had a powerful search engine and a word processor
and nothing else. All it could be used for was searching the daemon data base and
writing reports.
He opened it and showed the team how to use it, going through it carefully and
making everyone try it for themselves. He knew that he was just putting off the
inevitable.
"Ran-chan, you're stalling. What are you hiding? Come on! Fess up; we won't
tell." Conroy had the awful feeling he wasn't going to like this much.
"No fessin'; I get to ask my question first. What is your worst nightmare?"
Ranma decided that he was going to go at this from the back door, sort of..
Most of the guys came up with the naked in class or Mom caught them
with/doing something they shouldn't; but Dave had to clear his throat several times
before he told his story.
"Damnit, I hate telling this! I'll probably have the dream tomorrow but . . . My
brother caught his arm in an unshielded PTO shaft. It tore his arm off and he died in my
arms. There wasn't enough of anything to put a tourniquet on."
Dave wiped his face and glared around but he knew if he could see them, all he
would see were sympathetic looks. It was dark enough that the fire was now the only
light and it cast weird shadows on their faces.
Ranma told his worst nightmare and ended up, "I hate killing and I'm not like
that. So I don't understand it at all. That makes it even worse."
He looked around at his teammates. They all had odd looks on their faces.
"You mean he sold ya t' some slob for . . . that?"
"No! No! I never got . . . un . . . I mean he sold me t' work a lot but never
for that. That's why I don't understand why I have that dream so often."
Ranma was as confused about his dream as ever, but Skeeter moved into the
light a little more so Ranma could see his face better.
"Sometimes it's not about physical rape; I think this one's about betrayal. He
wasn't a good father and ya feel like he raped ya of your childhood or something like
that. But what do I know I'm just a medic . . . although I'm a damn good one"
Skeeter made a rude face; everyone laughed and made rude comments about
his looks and parentage, but the tension was still thick.
"Ok. Ranma you go first this time. What was the worst moment of your life? Got caught
kissing someone else's girl? What?" Conroy was sure this one was fairly harmless;
Ranma was so young he couldn't have a really bad worst moment.
"Well, I donno' where t' start. I got more than one." Ranma gulped, if he
started to cry they'd think he was a real sissy. "I'm not sure so I'll start with the first
one. That was when I realized Pop had sold me to a Chain Child Agency, then there
was when I got punished for the first time and when they killed that guy in front a' me
and after that when I killed the other guy and then they whipped me for not doing it
slower so the spectators could get their jollies and that's about it. I... damn! Shimatta!
K'so! Chicushou!" Ranma wiped tears off his face. "I'll get my stuff. I can find my way
by myself."
"And just exactly where do ya think you're goin', young man? Sit your ass
down and shut up."
Ranma froze.
Conroy sounded like he wanted to kill someone.
Ranma sat.
"Are you sitting there and telling us your old man sold ya for a slave?" Ranma
nodded once, "And they punished you for . . . what?" Ranma mumbled. "What did
you say, soldier, I can't hear you!" Conroy was sure they didn't really want to hear
what Ranma had to say.
Ranma took a deep breath; "I'm a defiant little shit when I wanna be and they
decided t' torture it outa' me. They put a magical collar on me so they could hurt me
without damaging the merchandise. Next question. No, I already know it. They wanted
me t' be a gladiator. Kill for their amusement. I wouldn't do it so they killed my first
opponent in front of me. They whipped him t' death and made me watch."
Ranma choked; gagging on the memories. He found a canteen shoved into his
hand and realized that all the guys had hold of him like they were afraid that he would
run off on them. Which he wanted to do, badly.
"Here . . . take a drink . . . be careful it's not water." Skeeter took back the
canteen as Ranma fought his first taste of American whisky.
"Wow! What the hell was that; on second thought never mind I got t' get this all
out before I chicken out. They put me up against another guy; he came at me like a bull
. . . I knew what would happen if I didn't kill him myself so I took him out with one
punch to the head; smashed it like an egg. They turned on my collar and when I fell they
dragged me to a different arena and hung me by my wrists and whipped me. So I guess
you can see why I need t' go . . . I'm a murderer an' ya don't want me around."
Ranma tugged on their hands.
"Damn it t' hell. I get first dibs on Daddy. Ranma, look at us." Ranma looked
around at a collection of sorrowful or furious faces. " All of us have been in fire fights . .
. shooting wars. We . . . well, I never saw the people I killed and I know I have
because I've seen the bodies. We all have. And we've all killed more than one person."
Conroy held out a hand. "I know it's just as horrible to kill one as any other number.
But we are the 'thin blue line' we do what we do so the innocent are safe. We pay the
price for others peace of mind and safety. You did what you had to t' survive it's as
natural as breathin' it's what keeps you breathing. Who are we t' blame you for doing
the same thing we do? Stop cryin'. You'll make me too and we're not a bunch a'
pansies. Here have another drink."
All of a sudden everyone was looking somewhere else. Skeeter gave the
canteen to the man next to him and they passed it around each man taking a sip or gulp
according to their nature. Ranma steeled himself and took another small sip. It didn't
taste any better the second time around.
"So, now we know why you're crazy. It's what they call battle fatigue or post
traumatic stress disorder. Shell shock, whatever. You gettn' help? If not I got a good
man. and we know how t' deal with ya better now. Shit! How old are ya? Ya said
sixteen? Man . . . at sixteen I was only worried my Mom would find my Playboy stash
and if I was gittn' a zit and you're supposed t' help save the world? Damnit!"
"Nother question. I'm not doubting ya so don't get me wrong but if they
whipped ya why don't ya have any scars?" Skeeter felt he had to ask as they had all
seen him naked in the showers.
"I heal real quick and don't scar. At least my skin doesn't but ya can feel them"
Ranma opened his vest enough that Skeeter could run his hand under it and his shirt.
"Shit! I can feel them all right. Damnit! How can anyone do something like that
especially to a kid . . . I know ya don't like t' be called a kid . . . but ya are. Even if ya
are . . . like; special and all and ya look twelve when ya ain't frowning like a bastard.
Makes me sick . . . I'd like t' get my hands on those pricks."
At Skeeters sour expression Ranma grinned evilly.
"Well ya can't. Steven got t' 'im first. Rescued me and those others; tore down
the whole place. I don't remember much. I was being punished for fighting the guards
so I was pretty much out of it."
"They told me they had t' dart me t' get me t' quit fightin' my rescuers. Can we
change the subject?"
Ranma suddenly smirked. "Oh by the way. Leave my Pop alone. I don't want
him dead. He's in prison; Steven caught him a while ago and they pushed the trial
through so I wouldn't have to testify. A life sentence . . . let him fell how I felt. He's
lucky. At least they can't beat and starve him. Oh! That's why I hate to have my food
messed with. They starved me. Speaking of starved; confession may be good for the
soul but it's damned hungry work too . . . so . . . feed me will ya?"
The heavy atmosphere dissipated with a whiff of laughter from everybody.
They'd gotten used to Ranma's appetite. He'd admitted to eating most anything.
He even liked MRE's; especially the Entrees with drinks and candy; even toilet
paper. But twelve hundred calories wasn't enough for him so they had made
arrangements for him to be supplied with extra meals and energy bars as well.
"Ranma, what won't you eat?"; Skeeter asked with a laugh.
"I'll eat anything that won't eat me first. I don't know why you guys don't like
MRE's; at least you don't have to run them down or dig them up for yourself."
They all sat around eating and arguing about what was the most disgusting thing
people ate; finally opting for grubs; while Ranma snickered at the comments he knew
were aimed more at making him laugh than anything else.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Is it midnight yet?"
"Not quite but we could start gettin' ready. Kill the fire someone."
Ranma stood up and sniffed. He smelled something. What was it? He sniffed
again testing the air, trying to figure out why the smell was bothering him. Why would
the smell of rotting hay . . .?
"Damnit!! Smell that? I think we're in deep shit. Guys; we better soldier up."
Ranma started patting himself down.
Dave sniffed the breeze blowing in from the west. "Rotting hay? Nasty . . . but
so some local left some bales to rot. So what?" Then he stiffened. "Damn, its too high
altitude for hay and too rocky around here. Ranma, what's up? Sarge?"
Weapons were quickly loaded, packed ammo retrieved and shoved into thigh
pockets and packs shouldered. Except for Ranma; he set his 'Dex on a rock; then,
slapping on night vision goggles he jumped into a tree.
"I'm gonna recon. I can stay in the trees so it's me like it or don't! If I'm not
back in 10 . . . Bug out. Pete, get in touch with Cen. OPs. We've got an incursion or
I'm a monkey"
As he was talking, he was also scanning the area for bogies.
Sergeant Conroy snarled at Ranma to come back but he paid no attention.
Jumping from branch to branch, careful to stay either close to the bole of the tree or in a
leafy area of the branches, he reconnoitered.
Moving in the direction of the smell, which had now become a stench, he
scanned until he found what he had feared.
Moon light plus the goggles gave him a good view of the nest of Feral Imps. He
recognized them because they looked just like the creature from that card game; which
was why they'd named them Imps.
He'd have to go back and verify it but he realized they were just vermin. Some
larger than others but they'd lucked out.
His internal clock said eight minutes; he'd moved fast, zeroing in on the smell
and keeping his search quick; so he had time to get back before the team bugged on
him.
Ranma dropped out of the tree to be literally snatched out of the air by Rio
"Damnit!! You little shit! If you ever tell us to leave you behind again . . . I'll
blister your butt."
"We . . . are . . . Marines. We do not leave anyone behind. Do you
understand me? And don't take off without orders again. Shit! We're a team . . . and
you're not in command . . . Yet"
Rio gave him a shake and a glare.
Ranma was startled; not by Rio grabbing him, he'd seen that coming or Rio
would be flat; but by the fury he could see on everyone's face. The moon was up by
now and its light was revealing six very mad Marines.
"OK . . . I screwed up. We don't have time for this now. Gimme that 'Dex. I
think all we've got are vermin. You'll be happy. You can shoot it but there's a lot of
them so I hope we've got enough ammo."
Ranma opened the laptop and typed in his info. The computer quickly came up
with answers that caused Ranma to turn cold all over; that tingly, cold feeling he got
when he knew that he was well and truly in it deep.
"Mother . . . Son of a . . . Shimatta!! K'so! Ch' . . . Ch' . . . Ch'!!"
"Ranma! Damnit, stop sounding like a train and talk t' me. What we got? How
fucked are we?" Conroy knew when Ranma started saying ch' it was bad.
"We got a nest a' Feral Imps. I thought we lucked out but . . . wrong! The
small ones ya can shoot, just vermin. But a nest has three kinds of Imp; vermin, critter,
and a grizzly. I can handle the critters with a chi attack but the grizzly takes bruit force. I
can cut it but . . . shit! . . . all I've got are some shirikins and this tooth pick." Ranma
drew his SP-24 and showed it. "I wish I had something bigger."
"Why can't we shoot them all? We got a full compliment of ammo! Plenty for
all!" Conroy felt like all the other Grunts. If you shot it, it should die.
"Magic? How the hell should I know? I just know what 'they' say. But if
Steven says you can't kill it by shooting it I believe him. Waste ammo if ya want. But I
still wish I had a bigger knife."
Ranma was only pissed at himself; he'd had the feeling he should bring
something larger than his knife but shrugged the feeling off. {I got t' start listening t' my
gut}
"Huh! If that knife's a problem; here." Ranma turned around to see Rio and
Doug both offering him some of the best steel he'd seen lately "Try one of these. Trade
ya. But I want it back when you're done with it"
Ranma accepted Rio's offered knife. It was long enough to qualify as a short
sword
"Thanks. I'm gonna need it."
Ranma hoped he didn't but his gut told him they were in for a long and nasty
night
Pete finished making his report to Cen. Ops and turned to the team. "Sarge,
they're sending a chopper but it can't land close . . . three klicks out and we're home
free. They said not to attack; we need backup and they're sending it."
Ranma stood looking back at the trees."Guys! Incoming . . . and coming fast!"
Ranma drew his Glock and started firing into the shadows surrounding them.
Shadows that could only be Imps. They moved out heading for the extraction zone and
Ranma hoping that he could keep his friends alive.
As Ranma had taken up the 'eyes behind' he was the first one to make physical
contact with an Imp. It jumped him from behind as he turned to check his footing.
It clutched him around the body and as he threw it off it scratched him. It had
gotten its forefoot into the gaping armhole of his vest. He'd forgotten to button up after
Skeeter felt his scars. Ranma swore and stomped it into the ground. He kept going; he
didn't have time to see how bad his wound was just yet.
The team formed up around a circle and kept up a withering line of fire taking
out vermin Imps as they came up from behind.
"Don't let them get ahead of us; they'll cut off our retreat."
Ranma snarled; he could see the critter Imps coming up fast. He was going to
have to leave the team and he was going to catch hell later; Sarge wasn't going to like it
any at all.
Ranma lagged behind hoping that they wouldn't notice, but his head set
crackled at him with the code to close up
"Can't! Sarge; I need to use a chi attack t' get the Critters an' I don't want ya
too close."
"Naw, we'll just blow it away"
All six men opened up on the first critter Imp; they emptied their AK-47's into
it. It just swatted at itself like it had flies buzzing around its head. It snarled and snapped
once; then it came after them.
"Close up . . . or we wait. No one left behind, damnit."
Ranma just told them not to look directly at the blast. He knew he only had a
second to act or someone would die.
"Mouko Takabisha!!" The ball of light that shot off Ranma's hand collided with
the creatures head and its head disappeared along with most of its body.
"Frag me! How often can you do that? Shit, what do ya need us for? Fuck!
There's another one!"
Conroy gathered his men and started a strategic retreat. Firing as they went
they started backing out of the clearing they were in.
"Take cover and hold off the vermin so I can concentrate. I can't do this
forever. I run outa' ammo too . . . we need ya t' keep the vermin off so we can get the
big stuff without bein' blind sided"
Ranma prepared to blast another Imp but he backed off a little. If he could kill
the critter with less power, he'd have more 'shots'; he knew that even he would run out
of chi eventually and then there was the little matter of blood loss. He was bleeding
steadily from his shoulder.
"Mouko Takabisha." Two down and plenty more coming; the vermin were still
coming too. Then Ranma heard the cry he'd hoped not to hear
"MAN DOWN!" Skeeter was bent over Doug, feeling his leg.
"I just tripped over my own big feet; I'll be fine in a . . . Shit . . . that hurt!"
Doug clenched his teeth; he knew his leg was probably broken, but he'd hoped
he was wrong. He wasn't.
Rio reached over and picked him up in a shoulder carry; Doug reached down
and got hold of Rio's belt; Rio wrapped his left arm around Doug's thigh and crossed
his arm over his chest to grip a strap on his body armor. That way he had his right hand
free so he could still use his Glock.
Ranma saw that Rio was carrying Doug; so he turned back to take care of the
critter Imps. He used the least amount of chi he needed to get the job done; he didn't
have time or strength to spare for the flashy spatters of energy that had always
accompanied his blasts before. While they had value with a human opponent, they
didn't impress an Imp.
Ranma pressed his hand to his shoulder surveying the clearing; he'd blasted the
critters as they entered it, there wasn't much left of them.
He gritted his teeth and moved out, heading for the rest of the team. As he
moved out, he worried; how much ammo did the guys have left?
He had no idea how many more vermin Imps there were out there; if they ran
into too many more they could be dry before it was over.
Hearing a chopper, he walked into the clearing. The chopper hovered over him
the crackling in his earpiece telling him that the iron ore in the mountains was doing its
best to cut him off from the rest of his team. The only thing making the communication
equipment work at this distance was the repeater in the chopper and it was too low for
that to work now.
Ranma squatted and then jumped. He landed on the slick lip of the doorway
but the man standing just inside grabbed him before he slipped backwards. The only
thing that kept them both from falling out the door was the harness the soldier was
wearing.
Ranma tore the sleeve off his shirt, "Patch me up quick. I need all the ammo
you can spare. We're running dry quick. You headed for the pick up? Have ya got
FLEER?"
At a nod he looked around, a medic tried to get him to lie down so he could be
bandaged. He pushed the medic away, just stuffing the bandage into the armhole of his
vest and tightening the front up till the bandage was pressed against his wound "No time
now! I'll do 'till later."
He pushed the operator away from the FLEER screen and looked for bogies
himself; there were no more critters but plenty of vermin still and his stomach fell as he
saw the largest signature yet. It had to be a full-grown Imp; a grizzly.
"Shimatta! K'so! Konoyarou!"
The medic grabbed Ranma and almost got his head jerked off for his trouble.
Ranma only stopped himself because he recognized the uniform in time.
"Shiri-nuke-me! I mean hands off ya fuckin' jerk. Ya wanna die. Don't touch
me! Get me that ammo; I gotta get back down there."
"How ya gonna get down there? We got no rappeling gear. It's all been
deployed. You're wounded . . . still bleedin'. Come on man!"
Ranma just grabbed the pack of ammo the old Gunnie had packed for him.
With a nod to the man Ranma jumped out the door and dropped the three hundred odd
feet to the ground and, sticking the landing, took off after his fellows.
"Here! Ammo! Load up! We got more vermin comin'" Ranma handed out
ammo and checked to see that everyone was still in one piece. He was, so far; the only
one bleeding and he intended to keep it that way. "How's Doug?"
"Shit! I saw it with my own eyes! Ya can't shoot the big one's. Is this one of
those times when we just back ya up and hope for the best?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid so. All ya gotta do is keep the vermin from gangin' up on me.
I'm gonna be wasted after I get Momma. We can't dodge her or out run her an' I gotta
get her fast. I can't keep this up too much longer, I'm losin' too much blood, that
Medic in the chopper didn't do me a damn bit a' good."
Ranma dodged Skeeter as he reached out for a look. He just pressed his fist
against his shoulder again. He had drawn the big knife and was holding it in that hand.
He was totally unaware of how much he resembled an old roman gladiator saluting the
emperor before going into the arena and wouldn't have cared if he did. But his fellows
did and readied themselves to see that he didn't make the ultimate sacrifice.
Momma broke up the moment in a nasty way, she roared and crashed through
the brush after the team. At Ranmas hasty instructions they broke like a covey of quail;
leaving her with too many decisions to make; this resulted in her doing what stupid
beasts do best; go in a straight line.
Ranma ran in front of her so that she would follow him to a spot he had picked
from the chopper. He wanted enough clear space to work but not enough to give her a
chance to get a run at him. Trapping her against a tree line was his best chance of
getting in his licks before she flattened him.
"Shoot her! Shoot her! I need her turned around!"
Ranma waited until the aggravation of being shot caused her to turn away from
the trees. First he unloaded a Mouko Takabisha on it just in case; but Steven was right,
no chi attack would work. So he jumped in the air and landed a kick to the head that
would have shattered an elephant's skull; the Imp just shook her head and snarled. She
swatted him out of the air like a fly. Ranma rolled and came back to his feet; bouncing
on the balls of his feet as he studied the Imp.
He launched himself at her and used the knife. He cut her across the upper
chest; he'd been aiming at her neck but she had leaped at him at the same time putting
his aim to low.
His feral snarl rivaled the Imp's; his return cut stuck the knife through the Imp's
breast bone and it caught there.
"Fuck! All right then. Guys . . . retreat . . . now! Ya gotta get Doug t' the pick
up. We can argue later! I got one more attack and I don't want ya around when I use
it." Cursing and swearing they started to retreat.
"Neko-ken!!" Ranma turned into a snarling ball of fury; he rushed the Imp and
proceeded to claw it into bloody shreds. He scattered them everywhere.
Dropping to all fours on the ground he sniffed at the scraps and snorted, the
peculiar smell of the Imps 'blood' disgusted him. He was covered with the obnoxious
slimy fluid.
Then he took off after his retreating team mates loping like a cat. As he ran he
pulled in the cat and staggered slightly as his body accommodated to running on two
feet instead of four.
He caught up and checked everyone over. They were all panting and swearing
but they were also chugging along at a good trot. Ranma decided most of the panting
was just hyperventilation instead of the shortness of breath caused by exhaustion.
"Rio, how ya doin'? Need relief? I'll spell ya a bit." Ranma trotted by Rio
holding his shoulder, it was stinging even more as the Imp blood got into it.
"Naw, I got 'im. How ya doin' yourself? Ya look bad, make it ok?"
Rio didn't like Ranma's look at all; he was pale and sweating, he'd said he was
bleeding earlier, but now Rio couldn't tell anything because of the slime covering
Ranma.
Rio shouted, "Hey, Sarg! Ranma don't look so good; we need t' stop a minute
and check 'im out."
"NO! No time! I'll keep a while longer. We get t' extraction an' I'm down but
not till then. Keep goin', ya baka." Ranma fended Skeeter off again "Shit! I gotta go
back!"
Rio blocked Ranma with his body and Doug groaned; his leg was really hurting
and he was beginning to see stars as the blood ran into his head. He'd been across
Rio's back for most of the encounter.
"Why the hell ya gotta go back? What for?"
"I left your knife in Momma. I promised t' give it back."
"Fuck the knife! I'll make another! Get your butt goin'. I'm gettn' tired a' usin'
Doug as a necklace."
Ranma ran, drawing the others after him. He took point because he was the
only one who had a chance against the Imps. Everyone else was out of ammo again.
"Damnit, you guys just shoot anything. I told ya ya couldn't kill the big ones. I
got t' do that. Now we're open t' attack from vermin and I don't think I'm up t' killing
a whole pack a' cockroaches."
They burst into the clearing and saw heaven in the form of an HH-3E; a Jolly
Green Giant. 72 feet long, 18 feet high with two beautiful 7.26mm machine guns that
started up the minute the gunners saw the vermin behind them. Luckily, not very close
behind.
They clambered in the open door with the flight engineer and para-rescue
specialist helping; the engineer told the pilot to take off and he went strait up, then
slanted the chopper slightly as he swung around to head back to the Compound.
Skeeter scrambled over feet to get to Ranma. He was leaning back against the
seat he was sitting in holding his shoulder. He was covered with some kind of slime and
his side was soaked with blood to the hip.
Skeeter yelled at the para-rescue who took one look and helped Skeeter carry
Ranma into the back where they started to work on him.
First they pulled off his vest and cut his shirt and undershirt away, swearing as
the slimy Imp blood made their hands slip.
He had three fairly deep gashes in his chest. The Imp had reached into the
armhole of Ranma's vest and dug his claws in the pectoral muscle then dragged them
toward the hollow of his shoulder gouging cuts which oozed blood freely. Ranma had
been bleeding for most of the encounter.
"Damnit! Look at all this blood. He's about bled out. Get an IV started! We
got no blood but we got ringers and plasma . . . stick him in both arms and get it going.
I got left."
The para and Skeeter worked like mad men. Ranma had lost so much blood
that his heart was in danger of stopping because there wasn't enough blood volume to
pump. But Ranma wasn't going out easy, or at all.
They got IV's in both arms and stripped off the old bloody bandages. When
they applied the new bandage they doubled Bloodstopper Quickclot's and wrapped
them with elastic bandaging to put more pressure on the wound.
"Ranma! Hey! Saotome! Ya little shit; ya ain't goin'out! Not on my watch.
Wake up! Say somthin'." Skeeter was getting worried; Ranma should have at least
opened his eyes by now.
"Just five more minutes!" Ranma sat half way up and kissed Skeeter on the
cheek.
"Aggg! Shit! Ya little perv! If ya ever scare me like that again . . . "
"Yeah, I know; ya'll beat my butt. Damnit, I'm dizzy as hell. What's going on?
Why do I have needles in both arms . . . ? " Ranma sagged against Skeeter. "I think I
need t' lie back down."
Skeeter had already eased Ranma back down. "You are down. Dumb ass! Pull
another stunt like that and I'll have Rio sit on ya!"
"Rio! Doug! Where is everyone? I need t' see them. Let me up! Damnit,
Skeeter! I'm not kiddin'. I can't rest until I see them all."
Ranma started to get up again but Rio did sit on him, sort of. He held him down
by planting his hand in the middle of Ranma's chest. Ranma knew he was in bad shape
when it worked.
"Just let me see everyone. Please! I promise I'll be good."
Conroy had everyone go back and let Ranma see them; as a non-com he
understood how Ranma felt. Everybody else had seen the others but Ranma had been
dragged to the back before he'd had a chance to count noses and he wasn't going to
rest until he had. After seeing the team was all there Ranma passed out again and
stayed that way.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Authors Notes
Do NOT take shields off Power Take Off gears or shafts; this scenario is very real and
very deadly. I know of two people who have been very badly hurt; thankfully not killed,
by doing this.
Ranma's nightmare made the chapter too long and didn't really fit so if you're interested
I'm posting it as a one shot called "Nightmare". It's really dark and weird so if you
aren't into that just ignore it.
I know the 'thin blue line' is the police but I got a poetic license; I paid a whole quarter
for it an' I'm gonna use it.
chapter 22
Ranma couldn't believe it had been seven days since he'd joined the team.
He'd teased them calling them Conroy-gumi but they had just thrown rolled up
sox and T-shirts and such at him and called him Ranma-sama-dono.
All in all he'd found plenty of interest in the last seven days. He'd learned how
to shoot an AK-47 and a Glock 10mm; he learned how to free rappel from a
helicopter and how to wear body armor and use all the electronic equipment that made
the job so much easier by keeping them in contact with each other.
He'd found that the men he'd scorned were just as good at their jobs as he was
at his. They had been working at cross purposes, each group trying to protect the other
from themselves. So it had been a busy week.
Now, however, Ranma was bored.
Just before sundown they'd been dropped in the middle of nowhere in the
mountains north of Nerima. Ranma was faintly familiar with the area. It was farther in
than he'd been in a long time so he was happy. The challenge was to use GPS and their
survival skills to get back to base. But they couldn't start until after midnight and they
couldn't travel during the day, so they were waiting and Ranma hated waiting.
"Let's just sit around and do nothing. Yeah . . . right . . . someone start a fight
or something."
The whole group settled in around a small fire. It wasn't much. It would
probably have fit in a large rice bowl but was fire and it was comfort.
Everyone except Ranma had been together for years so they knew each others
stories pat. but Ranma was fair game; so they began to question him like they would
anyone who joined their group. They had been too busy and too distracted by training
and the need for food and sleep during the last week but now everyone was just sitting,
anything for entertainment.
"Hey! I've got my harp, want to hear somethin'? Ranma, what kind a' music
do ya like? I can't play that techno crap you kids like but I can manage almost anything
else." Pete Franklin pulled a harmonica out of a pocket and tapped it in his hand.
Ranma was laying flat on his back with his hands under his head. "I'd like to
hear some American folk music. I've heard it's really beautiful."
Ranma started doing vertical leg crunches; his legs straight up in the air at a
ninety-degree angle to his body.
Pete played "Early One Morning" while Doug sang.
"Hey, that's good. Play me another?"
"Naw! Turn about's fair play. We entertained you, now ya gotta do the same.
Tell us how ya got here. You're too young t' have come from military so . . . what
gives?" Doug looked up for the first time. Ranma was slightly outside of the circle and
no one had been paying particular attention to what he was doing. "How long have ya
been doin' that?"
"Since ya started playin'. I'm not much for just sittn' around waitin' . . . makes
me nervous." Ranma changed to doing push ups; one handed.
"Shit! Ranma, take a break and come talk t' us we haven't had time t' just
shoot the shit . . . we've been too busy trainin' and teach-in' ya about all the equipment
and ya spent some time learning how to use that Deamondex thing. So spill. What's
your story? Unless ya think you're too good t' gossip with a bunch a' Grunts."
Conroy knew all his men wanted to know more about Ranma but every time
they got time to sit around and gossip Ranma had found some reason to get out of it.
Even studying for a calculus test for God's sake.
Ranma had wanted to avoid this but now he was trapped. He didn't want the
men to know about his Pop and other stuff but he knew he was going to have to tell
them something and he couldn't bring himself to lie.
"Ok! I know you're all curious so . . . I'll make ya a deal. Ya start a subject . .
. everyone tells a story including me. But I get t' go last . . . and none a' that how did
ya lose your virginity shit! That's none a' your business."
"Fair enough."
Most of the questions were the usual stuff; your most embarrassing moment;
favorite movies that kind of thing. Ranma answered their questions while still exercising.
He was nervous.
Finally Dave and Rio sat on him as he was doing standard push ups.
"This'll get ya. Now ya have t' be still." Rio was sitting on Ranma's shoulders
and Doug on his bottom.
Ranma turned his head slightly to look out of the corner of his eye. He smirked
at the men sitting on him.
"How much do ya weigh, Big Guy.? You and Dave together." Ranma still had
his hands flat on the ground, ready to push up.
"Rio, you weigh in at about . . . two fifty? And I weigh two hundred exactly so
both of us weight in at four fifty Why . . . eeepppps!"
Ranma continued to do push ups with both men on his back.
"Stop . . . Stop! We give . . . let us off before we fall off. We just want you to
join the circle, Baka Deshi!" The men rolled off Ranma laughing.
"What'd you call me?" Ranma narrowed his eyes jokingly. "I'm not your
student even if I am foolish. Where'd you learn Japanese? Anime?"
"Yeah, you talk good English but you swear in Japanese so we're never sure
what you're calling us. So we kinda asked around. We're too new to have gotten the
Japanese courses yet."
Ranma gave them a short run down on Japanese swearing ending, "Stick t'
English. Most Japanese people speak fair English. We have to take a foreign language
in school and most take English. It helps get a good job since English is the most
international language. You people are impossible when it comes to learning anything
but . . . " Ranma ducked a barrage of soft missiles laughing. "Ok . . . Ok . . . Pax!...
Pax!... Warui . . . Sorry, my bad. Help!"
They all jumped Ranma rolling him in the dirt and laughing. Ranma stood up and
dumped them all on the ground. Bringing about the next question aimed only at him.
"Damnit, how did you get to be so strong? You're incredible."
"I think a lot of it's genetic. My Pop is really strong too. And my Mom from
what I've heard. On top of that I've been training since I can remember. Push ups by
the time I could crawl and when I started to walk I had to run. Kata as soon as I could
remember the moves. As well as weapons. So I've got to be good. Pop beat it into me
early."
"Your Mom let your Dad get away with that shit? She let him beat you? I can't
believe it."
Conroy took over the questioning as he usually did. He knew his men well
enough to know what they would want to know and it kept the confusion down.
Besides they'd discussed this before now.
"My Mom . . . well, uh . . . I haven't seen her more than two or three times
since I was born. Pop took me off training when I was still a baby. She made some
oath with him. I'd grow up t' be a man among men or we'd both commit Seppuku."
Ranma made a face of disgust.
"Seppuku . . . what's that? I never heard of it." All the men stared at Ranma
wondering why he looked so disgusted.
"Oh! Americans usually hear the cruder term Hari-Kari. It's literally translated
as belly cut."
At their horrified expressions Ranma held out his hand's palm out. "Hey don't
look like that; I'm not cuttn' my belly over somthin' my baka oni parents decided on. I
wouldn't even mention it but you asked and I'm not lyin' about things."
"Hell, I've heard of some nutty people but . . . Ranma . . . sorry, your parents
take the cake."
Conroy shook his head.
Everyone else nodded, at least Ranma thought they did, it was getting very dark
by now. Ranma thought it might be easier to talk now; they couldn't see him and he
couldn't see them, like talking to himself.
"Tell us about that Deamondex thing. What's it for? Why do we all have to
have it?"
Ranma got his out of his pack. I was a small laptop computer with a dedicated
program. It only did two things. It had a powerful search engine and a word processor
and nothing else. All it could be used for was searching the daemon data base and
writing reports.
He opened it and showed the team how to use it, going through it carefully and
making everyone try it for themselves. He knew that he was just putting off the
inevitable.
"Ran-chan, you're stalling. What are you hiding? Come on! Fess up; we won't
tell." Conroy had the awful feeling he wasn't going to like this much.
"No fessin'; I get to ask my question first. What is your worst nightmare?"
Ranma decided that he was going to go at this from the back door, sort of..
Most of the guys came up with the naked in class or Mom caught them
with/doing something they shouldn't; but Dave had to clear his throat several times
before he told his story.
"Damnit, I hate telling this! I'll probably have the dream tomorrow but . . . My
brother caught his arm in an unshielded PTO shaft. It tore his arm off and he died in my
arms. There wasn't enough of anything to put a tourniquet on."
Dave wiped his face and glared around but he knew if he could see them, all he
would see were sympathetic looks. It was dark enough that the fire was now the only
light and it cast weird shadows on their faces.
Ranma told his worst nightmare and ended up, "I hate killing and I'm not like
that. So I don't understand it at all. That makes it even worse."
He looked around at his teammates. They all had odd looks on their faces.
"You mean he sold ya t' some slob for . . . that?"
"No! No! I never got . . . un . . . I mean he sold me t' work a lot but never
for that. That's why I don't understand why I have that dream so often."
Ranma was as confused about his dream as ever, but Skeeter moved into the
light a little more so Ranma could see his face better.
"Sometimes it's not about physical rape; I think this one's about betrayal. He
wasn't a good father and ya feel like he raped ya of your childhood or something like
that. But what do I know I'm just a medic . . . although I'm a damn good one"
Skeeter made a rude face; everyone laughed and made rude comments about
his looks and parentage, but the tension was still thick.
"Ok. Ranma you go first this time. What was the worst moment of your life? Got caught
kissing someone else's girl? What?" Conroy was sure this one was fairly harmless;
Ranma was so young he couldn't have a really bad worst moment.
"Well, I donno' where t' start. I got more than one." Ranma gulped, if he
started to cry they'd think he was a real sissy. "I'm not sure so I'll start with the first
one. That was when I realized Pop had sold me to a Chain Child Agency, then there
was when I got punished for the first time and when they killed that guy in front a' me
and after that when I killed the other guy and then they whipped me for not doing it
slower so the spectators could get their jollies and that's about it. I... damn! Shimatta!
K'so! Chicushou!" Ranma wiped tears off his face. "I'll get my stuff. I can find my way
by myself."
"And just exactly where do ya think you're goin', young man? Sit your ass
down and shut up."
Ranma froze.
Conroy sounded like he wanted to kill someone.
Ranma sat.
"Are you sitting there and telling us your old man sold ya for a slave?" Ranma
nodded once, "And they punished you for . . . what?" Ranma mumbled. "What did
you say, soldier, I can't hear you!" Conroy was sure they didn't really want to hear
what Ranma had to say.
Ranma took a deep breath; "I'm a defiant little shit when I wanna be and they
decided t' torture it outa' me. They put a magical collar on me so they could hurt me
without damaging the merchandise. Next question. No, I already know it. They wanted
me t' be a gladiator. Kill for their amusement. I wouldn't do it so they killed my first
opponent in front of me. They whipped him t' death and made me watch."
Ranma choked; gagging on the memories. He found a canteen shoved into his
hand and realized that all the guys had hold of him like they were afraid that he would
run off on them. Which he wanted to do, badly.
"Here . . . take a drink . . . be careful it's not water." Skeeter took back the
canteen as Ranma fought his first taste of American whisky.
"Wow! What the hell was that; on second thought never mind I got t' get this all
out before I chicken out. They put me up against another guy; he came at me like a bull
. . . I knew what would happen if I didn't kill him myself so I took him out with one
punch to the head; smashed it like an egg. They turned on my collar and when I fell they
dragged me to a different arena and hung me by my wrists and whipped me. So I guess
you can see why I need t' go . . . I'm a murderer an' ya don't want me around."
Ranma tugged on their hands.
"Damn it t' hell. I get first dibs on Daddy. Ranma, look at us." Ranma looked
around at a collection of sorrowful or furious faces. " All of us have been in fire fights . .
. shooting wars. We . . . well, I never saw the people I killed and I know I have
because I've seen the bodies. We all have. And we've all killed more than one person."
Conroy held out a hand. "I know it's just as horrible to kill one as any other number.
But we are the 'thin blue line' we do what we do so the innocent are safe. We pay the
price for others peace of mind and safety. You did what you had to t' survive it's as
natural as breathin' it's what keeps you breathing. Who are we t' blame you for doing
the same thing we do? Stop cryin'. You'll make me too and we're not a bunch a'
pansies. Here have another drink."
All of a sudden everyone was looking somewhere else. Skeeter gave the
canteen to the man next to him and they passed it around each man taking a sip or gulp
according to their nature. Ranma steeled himself and took another small sip. It didn't
taste any better the second time around.
"So, now we know why you're crazy. It's what they call battle fatigue or post
traumatic stress disorder. Shell shock, whatever. You gettn' help? If not I got a good
man. and we know how t' deal with ya better now. Shit! How old are ya? Ya said
sixteen? Man . . . at sixteen I was only worried my Mom would find my Playboy stash
and if I was gittn' a zit and you're supposed t' help save the world? Damnit!"
"Nother question. I'm not doubting ya so don't get me wrong but if they
whipped ya why don't ya have any scars?" Skeeter felt he had to ask as they had all
seen him naked in the showers.
"I heal real quick and don't scar. At least my skin doesn't but ya can feel them"
Ranma opened his vest enough that Skeeter could run his hand under it and his shirt.
"Shit! I can feel them all right. Damnit! How can anyone do something like that
especially to a kid . . . I know ya don't like t' be called a kid . . . but ya are. Even if ya
are . . . like; special and all and ya look twelve when ya ain't frowning like a bastard.
Makes me sick . . . I'd like t' get my hands on those pricks."
At Skeeters sour expression Ranma grinned evilly.
"Well ya can't. Steven got t' 'im first. Rescued me and those others; tore down
the whole place. I don't remember much. I was being punished for fighting the guards
so I was pretty much out of it."
"They told me they had t' dart me t' get me t' quit fightin' my rescuers. Can we
change the subject?"
Ranma suddenly smirked. "Oh by the way. Leave my Pop alone. I don't want
him dead. He's in prison; Steven caught him a while ago and they pushed the trial
through so I wouldn't have to testify. A life sentence . . . let him fell how I felt. He's
lucky. At least they can't beat and starve him. Oh! That's why I hate to have my food
messed with. They starved me. Speaking of starved; confession may be good for the
soul but it's damned hungry work too . . . so . . . feed me will ya?"
The heavy atmosphere dissipated with a whiff of laughter from everybody.
They'd gotten used to Ranma's appetite. He'd admitted to eating most anything.
He even liked MRE's; especially the Entrees with drinks and candy; even toilet
paper. But twelve hundred calories wasn't enough for him so they had made
arrangements for him to be supplied with extra meals and energy bars as well.
"Ranma, what won't you eat?"; Skeeter asked with a laugh.
"I'll eat anything that won't eat me first. I don't know why you guys don't like
MRE's; at least you don't have to run them down or dig them up for yourself."
They all sat around eating and arguing about what was the most disgusting thing
people ate; finally opting for grubs; while Ranma snickered at the comments he knew
were aimed more at making him laugh than anything else.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Is it midnight yet?"
"Not quite but we could start gettin' ready. Kill the fire someone."
Ranma stood up and sniffed. He smelled something. What was it? He sniffed
again testing the air, trying to figure out why the smell was bothering him. Why would
the smell of rotting hay . . .?
"Damnit!! Smell that? I think we're in deep shit. Guys; we better soldier up."
Ranma started patting himself down.
Dave sniffed the breeze blowing in from the west. "Rotting hay? Nasty . . . but
so some local left some bales to rot. So what?" Then he stiffened. "Damn, its too high
altitude for hay and too rocky around here. Ranma, what's up? Sarge?"
Weapons were quickly loaded, packed ammo retrieved and shoved into thigh
pockets and packs shouldered. Except for Ranma; he set his 'Dex on a rock; then,
slapping on night vision goggles he jumped into a tree.
"I'm gonna recon. I can stay in the trees so it's me like it or don't! If I'm not
back in 10 . . . Bug out. Pete, get in touch with Cen. OPs. We've got an incursion or
I'm a monkey"
As he was talking, he was also scanning the area for bogies.
Sergeant Conroy snarled at Ranma to come back but he paid no attention.
Jumping from branch to branch, careful to stay either close to the bole of the tree or in a
leafy area of the branches, he reconnoitered.
Moving in the direction of the smell, which had now become a stench, he
scanned until he found what he had feared.
Moon light plus the goggles gave him a good view of the nest of Feral Imps. He
recognized them because they looked just like the creature from that card game; which
was why they'd named them Imps.
He'd have to go back and verify it but he realized they were just vermin. Some
larger than others but they'd lucked out.
His internal clock said eight minutes; he'd moved fast, zeroing in on the smell
and keeping his search quick; so he had time to get back before the team bugged on
him.
Ranma dropped out of the tree to be literally snatched out of the air by Rio
"Damnit!! You little shit! If you ever tell us to leave you behind again . . . I'll
blister your butt."
"We . . . are . . . Marines. We do not leave anyone behind. Do you
understand me? And don't take off without orders again. Shit! We're a team . . . and
you're not in command . . . Yet"
Rio gave him a shake and a glare.
Ranma was startled; not by Rio grabbing him, he'd seen that coming or Rio
would be flat; but by the fury he could see on everyone's face. The moon was up by
now and its light was revealing six very mad Marines.
"OK . . . I screwed up. We don't have time for this now. Gimme that 'Dex. I
think all we've got are vermin. You'll be happy. You can shoot it but there's a lot of
them so I hope we've got enough ammo."
Ranma opened the laptop and typed in his info. The computer quickly came up
with answers that caused Ranma to turn cold all over; that tingly, cold feeling he got
when he knew that he was well and truly in it deep.
"Mother . . . Son of a . . . Shimatta!! K'so! Ch' . . . Ch' . . . Ch'!!"
"Ranma! Damnit, stop sounding like a train and talk t' me. What we got? How
fucked are we?" Conroy knew when Ranma started saying ch' it was bad.
"We got a nest a' Feral Imps. I thought we lucked out but . . . wrong! The
small ones ya can shoot, just vermin. But a nest has three kinds of Imp; vermin, critter,
and a grizzly. I can handle the critters with a chi attack but the grizzly takes bruit force. I
can cut it but . . . shit! . . . all I've got are some shirikins and this tooth pick." Ranma
drew his SP-24 and showed it. "I wish I had something bigger."
"Why can't we shoot them all? We got a full compliment of ammo! Plenty for
all!" Conroy felt like all the other Grunts. If you shot it, it should die.
"Magic? How the hell should I know? I just know what 'they' say. But if
Steven says you can't kill it by shooting it I believe him. Waste ammo if ya want. But I
still wish I had a bigger knife."
Ranma was only pissed at himself; he'd had the feeling he should bring
something larger than his knife but shrugged the feeling off. {I got t' start listening t' my
gut}
"Huh! If that knife's a problem; here." Ranma turned around to see Rio and
Doug both offering him some of the best steel he'd seen lately "Try one of these. Trade
ya. But I want it back when you're done with it"
Ranma accepted Rio's offered knife. It was long enough to qualify as a short
sword
"Thanks. I'm gonna need it."
Ranma hoped he didn't but his gut told him they were in for a long and nasty
night
Pete finished making his report to Cen. Ops and turned to the team. "Sarge,
they're sending a chopper but it can't land close . . . three klicks out and we're home
free. They said not to attack; we need backup and they're sending it."
Ranma stood looking back at the trees."Guys! Incoming . . . and coming fast!"
Ranma drew his Glock and started firing into the shadows surrounding them.
Shadows that could only be Imps. They moved out heading for the extraction zone and
Ranma hoping that he could keep his friends alive.
As Ranma had taken up the 'eyes behind' he was the first one to make physical
contact with an Imp. It jumped him from behind as he turned to check his footing.
It clutched him around the body and as he threw it off it scratched him. It had
gotten its forefoot into the gaping armhole of his vest. He'd forgotten to button up after
Skeeter felt his scars. Ranma swore and stomped it into the ground. He kept going; he
didn't have time to see how bad his wound was just yet.
The team formed up around a circle and kept up a withering line of fire taking
out vermin Imps as they came up from behind.
"Don't let them get ahead of us; they'll cut off our retreat."
Ranma snarled; he could see the critter Imps coming up fast. He was going to
have to leave the team and he was going to catch hell later; Sarge wasn't going to like it
any at all.
Ranma lagged behind hoping that they wouldn't notice, but his head set
crackled at him with the code to close up
"Can't! Sarge; I need to use a chi attack t' get the Critters an' I don't want ya
too close."
"Naw, we'll just blow it away"
All six men opened up on the first critter Imp; they emptied their AK-47's into
it. It just swatted at itself like it had flies buzzing around its head. It snarled and snapped
once; then it came after them.
"Close up . . . or we wait. No one left behind, damnit."
Ranma just told them not to look directly at the blast. He knew he only had a
second to act or someone would die.
"Mouko Takabisha!!" The ball of light that shot off Ranma's hand collided with
the creatures head and its head disappeared along with most of its body.
"Frag me! How often can you do that? Shit, what do ya need us for? Fuck!
There's another one!"
Conroy gathered his men and started a strategic retreat. Firing as they went
they started backing out of the clearing they were in.
"Take cover and hold off the vermin so I can concentrate. I can't do this
forever. I run outa' ammo too . . . we need ya t' keep the vermin off so we can get the
big stuff without bein' blind sided"
Ranma prepared to blast another Imp but he backed off a little. If he could kill
the critter with less power, he'd have more 'shots'; he knew that even he would run out
of chi eventually and then there was the little matter of blood loss. He was bleeding
steadily from his shoulder.
"Mouko Takabisha." Two down and plenty more coming; the vermin were still
coming too. Then Ranma heard the cry he'd hoped not to hear
"MAN DOWN!" Skeeter was bent over Doug, feeling his leg.
"I just tripped over my own big feet; I'll be fine in a . . . Shit . . . that hurt!"
Doug clenched his teeth; he knew his leg was probably broken, but he'd hoped
he was wrong. He wasn't.
Rio reached over and picked him up in a shoulder carry; Doug reached down
and got hold of Rio's belt; Rio wrapped his left arm around Doug's thigh and crossed
his arm over his chest to grip a strap on his body armor. That way he had his right hand
free so he could still use his Glock.
Ranma saw that Rio was carrying Doug; so he turned back to take care of the
critter Imps. He used the least amount of chi he needed to get the job done; he didn't
have time or strength to spare for the flashy spatters of energy that had always
accompanied his blasts before. While they had value with a human opponent, they
didn't impress an Imp.
Ranma pressed his hand to his shoulder surveying the clearing; he'd blasted the
critters as they entered it, there wasn't much left of them.
He gritted his teeth and moved out, heading for the rest of the team. As he
moved out, he worried; how much ammo did the guys have left?
He had no idea how many more vermin Imps there were out there; if they ran
into too many more they could be dry before it was over.
Hearing a chopper, he walked into the clearing. The chopper hovered over him
the crackling in his earpiece telling him that the iron ore in the mountains was doing its
best to cut him off from the rest of his team. The only thing making the communication
equipment work at this distance was the repeater in the chopper and it was too low for
that to work now.
Ranma squatted and then jumped. He landed on the slick lip of the doorway
but the man standing just inside grabbed him before he slipped backwards. The only
thing that kept them both from falling out the door was the harness the soldier was
wearing.
Ranma tore the sleeve off his shirt, "Patch me up quick. I need all the ammo
you can spare. We're running dry quick. You headed for the pick up? Have ya got
FLEER?"
At a nod he looked around, a medic tried to get him to lie down so he could be
bandaged. He pushed the medic away, just stuffing the bandage into the armhole of his
vest and tightening the front up till the bandage was pressed against his wound "No time
now! I'll do 'till later."
He pushed the operator away from the FLEER screen and looked for bogies
himself; there were no more critters but plenty of vermin still and his stomach fell as he
saw the largest signature yet. It had to be a full-grown Imp; a grizzly.
"Shimatta! K'so! Konoyarou!"
The medic grabbed Ranma and almost got his head jerked off for his trouble.
Ranma only stopped himself because he recognized the uniform in time.
"Shiri-nuke-me! I mean hands off ya fuckin' jerk. Ya wanna die. Don't touch
me! Get me that ammo; I gotta get back down there."
"How ya gonna get down there? We got no rappeling gear. It's all been
deployed. You're wounded . . . still bleedin'. Come on man!"
Ranma just grabbed the pack of ammo the old Gunnie had packed for him.
With a nod to the man Ranma jumped out the door and dropped the three hundred odd
feet to the ground and, sticking the landing, took off after his fellows.
"Here! Ammo! Load up! We got more vermin comin'" Ranma handed out
ammo and checked to see that everyone was still in one piece. He was, so far; the only
one bleeding and he intended to keep it that way. "How's Doug?"
"Shit! I saw it with my own eyes! Ya can't shoot the big one's. Is this one of
those times when we just back ya up and hope for the best?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid so. All ya gotta do is keep the vermin from gangin' up on me.
I'm gonna be wasted after I get Momma. We can't dodge her or out run her an' I gotta
get her fast. I can't keep this up too much longer, I'm losin' too much blood, that
Medic in the chopper didn't do me a damn bit a' good."
Ranma dodged Skeeter as he reached out for a look. He just pressed his fist
against his shoulder again. He had drawn the big knife and was holding it in that hand.
He was totally unaware of how much he resembled an old roman gladiator saluting the
emperor before going into the arena and wouldn't have cared if he did. But his fellows
did and readied themselves to see that he didn't make the ultimate sacrifice.
Momma broke up the moment in a nasty way, she roared and crashed through
the brush after the team. At Ranmas hasty instructions they broke like a covey of quail;
leaving her with too many decisions to make; this resulted in her doing what stupid
beasts do best; go in a straight line.
Ranma ran in front of her so that she would follow him to a spot he had picked
from the chopper. He wanted enough clear space to work but not enough to give her a
chance to get a run at him. Trapping her against a tree line was his best chance of
getting in his licks before she flattened him.
"Shoot her! Shoot her! I need her turned around!"
Ranma waited until the aggravation of being shot caused her to turn away from
the trees. First he unloaded a Mouko Takabisha on it just in case; but Steven was right,
no chi attack would work. So he jumped in the air and landed a kick to the head that
would have shattered an elephant's skull; the Imp just shook her head and snarled. She
swatted him out of the air like a fly. Ranma rolled and came back to his feet; bouncing
on the balls of his feet as he studied the Imp.
He launched himself at her and used the knife. He cut her across the upper
chest; he'd been aiming at her neck but she had leaped at him at the same time putting
his aim to low.
His feral snarl rivaled the Imp's; his return cut stuck the knife through the Imp's
breast bone and it caught there.
"Fuck! All right then. Guys . . . retreat . . . now! Ya gotta get Doug t' the pick
up. We can argue later! I got one more attack and I don't want ya around when I use
it." Cursing and swearing they started to retreat.
"Neko-ken!!" Ranma turned into a snarling ball of fury; he rushed the Imp and
proceeded to claw it into bloody shreds. He scattered them everywhere.
Dropping to all fours on the ground he sniffed at the scraps and snorted, the
peculiar smell of the Imps 'blood' disgusted him. He was covered with the obnoxious
slimy fluid.
Then he took off after his retreating team mates loping like a cat. As he ran he
pulled in the cat and staggered slightly as his body accommodated to running on two
feet instead of four.
He caught up and checked everyone over. They were all panting and swearing
but they were also chugging along at a good trot. Ranma decided most of the panting
was just hyperventilation instead of the shortness of breath caused by exhaustion.
"Rio, how ya doin'? Need relief? I'll spell ya a bit." Ranma trotted by Rio
holding his shoulder, it was stinging even more as the Imp blood got into it.
"Naw, I got 'im. How ya doin' yourself? Ya look bad, make it ok?"
Rio didn't like Ranma's look at all; he was pale and sweating, he'd said he was
bleeding earlier, but now Rio couldn't tell anything because of the slime covering
Ranma.
Rio shouted, "Hey, Sarg! Ranma don't look so good; we need t' stop a minute
and check 'im out."
"NO! No time! I'll keep a while longer. We get t' extraction an' I'm down but
not till then. Keep goin', ya baka." Ranma fended Skeeter off again "Shit! I gotta go
back!"
Rio blocked Ranma with his body and Doug groaned; his leg was really hurting
and he was beginning to see stars as the blood ran into his head. He'd been across
Rio's back for most of the encounter.
"Why the hell ya gotta go back? What for?"
"I left your knife in Momma. I promised t' give it back."
"Fuck the knife! I'll make another! Get your butt goin'. I'm gettn' tired a' usin'
Doug as a necklace."
Ranma ran, drawing the others after him. He took point because he was the
only one who had a chance against the Imps. Everyone else was out of ammo again.
"Damnit, you guys just shoot anything. I told ya ya couldn't kill the big ones. I
got t' do that. Now we're open t' attack from vermin and I don't think I'm up t' killing
a whole pack a' cockroaches."
They burst into the clearing and saw heaven in the form of an HH-3E; a Jolly
Green Giant. 72 feet long, 18 feet high with two beautiful 7.26mm machine guns that
started up the minute the gunners saw the vermin behind them. Luckily, not very close
behind.
They clambered in the open door with the flight engineer and para-rescue
specialist helping; the engineer told the pilot to take off and he went strait up, then
slanted the chopper slightly as he swung around to head back to the Compound.
Skeeter scrambled over feet to get to Ranma. He was leaning back against the
seat he was sitting in holding his shoulder. He was covered with some kind of slime and
his side was soaked with blood to the hip.
Skeeter yelled at the para-rescue who took one look and helped Skeeter carry
Ranma into the back where they started to work on him.
First they pulled off his vest and cut his shirt and undershirt away, swearing as
the slimy Imp blood made their hands slip.
He had three fairly deep gashes in his chest. The Imp had reached into the
armhole of Ranma's vest and dug his claws in the pectoral muscle then dragged them
toward the hollow of his shoulder gouging cuts which oozed blood freely. Ranma had
been bleeding for most of the encounter.
"Damnit! Look at all this blood. He's about bled out. Get an IV started! We
got no blood but we got ringers and plasma . . . stick him in both arms and get it going.
I got left."
The para and Skeeter worked like mad men. Ranma had lost so much blood
that his heart was in danger of stopping because there wasn't enough blood volume to
pump. But Ranma wasn't going out easy, or at all.
They got IV's in both arms and stripped off the old bloody bandages. When
they applied the new bandage they doubled Bloodstopper Quickclot's and wrapped
them with elastic bandaging to put more pressure on the wound.
"Ranma! Hey! Saotome! Ya little shit; ya ain't goin'out! Not on my watch.
Wake up! Say somthin'." Skeeter was getting worried; Ranma should have at least
opened his eyes by now.
"Just five more minutes!" Ranma sat half way up and kissed Skeeter on the
cheek.
"Aggg! Shit! Ya little perv! If ya ever scare me like that again . . . "
"Yeah, I know; ya'll beat my butt. Damnit, I'm dizzy as hell. What's going on?
Why do I have needles in both arms . . . ? " Ranma sagged against Skeeter. "I think I
need t' lie back down."
Skeeter had already eased Ranma back down. "You are down. Dumb ass! Pull
another stunt like that and I'll have Rio sit on ya!"
"Rio! Doug! Where is everyone? I need t' see them. Let me up! Damnit,
Skeeter! I'm not kiddin'. I can't rest until I see them all."
Ranma started to get up again but Rio did sit on him, sort of. He held him down
by planting his hand in the middle of Ranma's chest. Ranma knew he was in bad shape
when it worked.
"Just let me see everyone. Please! I promise I'll be good."
Conroy had everyone go back and let Ranma see them; as a non-com he
understood how Ranma felt. Everybody else had seen the others but Ranma had been
dragged to the back before he'd had a chance to count noses and he wasn't going to
rest until he had. After seeing the team was all there Ranma passed out again and
stayed that way.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Authors Notes
Do NOT take shields off Power Take Off gears or shafts; this scenario is very real and
very deadly. I know of two people who have been very badly hurt; thankfully not killed,
by doing this.
Ranma's nightmare made the chapter too long and didn't really fit so if you're interested
I'm posting it as a one shot called "Nightmare". It's really dark and weird so if you
aren't into that just ignore it.
I know the 'thin blue line' is the police but I got a poetic license; I paid a whole quarter
for it an' I'm gonna use it.