ICE STATION: CONTINUED

Part 4

"Shit, shit, shit!" Schofield shook his head while pacing up and down the hallway outside his office in the USMC headquarters.

"Problem, sir?" Rebound stuck his head out the door of Schofield's office.

"Wasn't Curry supposed to be here an hour ago?" Schofield glanced at his watch for what must have been the thirtieth time in the last half-hour. He looked up and down the hallway, then ducked back inside his office. "There's somethin' I don't like about this guy."

Rebound rolled his eyes. "Sir, you're thirty-two. Don't you think you're a little old for petty jealousy?"

Schofield was rifling through some papers. He was getting impatient and not really thinking about what Rebound was saying. "Huh? What?"

"Never mind." Rebound saw a blond-haired guy standing outside the office. "Sir, he's here."

Schofield stopped his actions immediately and stood up. "Send him in here."

"Yes, sir." Rebound went outside and stood in front of Curry. "Are you Brendan Curry?"

"Yes, sir."

"You can go in now." Rebound watched as Curry stepped confidently into the office, then closed the door behind him as Rebound stepped into the office as well.

Schofield motioned for Curry to sit down. "Good morning. I am Lieutenant Shane Schofield, or 'Scarecrow'. As you probably already guessed, you will join my Reconnaissance unit and obey my orders and respect my leadership. Is that understood?"

Curry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Schofield relaxed a bit. "Okay, now that we've got the formal stuff finished, I can tell you who the rest of the team members are. This is Rebound Simmons…"

"Nice to meet you." Rebound couldn't help but think of what competition could arise between the two men.

"By the way, we usually call each other by our call signs, so he is just Rebound. My second-in-command will be Libby Gant, or 'Fox', but as she is injured in the hospital and may not be able to join us in the event that we are called in the next week, Mother will be my second-in-command. She is currently at a doctor's appointment repositioning her prosthetic leg."

"You guys must have seen a lot of action." Curry replied after a long silence.

Schofield looked down at his hands. "We were attacked by French Foreign Legion assassins and the SAS. I lost 8 men." There was a short pause, then Schofield sighed. "So, anyway, we haven't decided on the remaining team members, so we want your opinion." He handed the filed to Curry.

Curry quickly flipped through them, then handed them back to Schofield. "They sound fine, sir."

"Any preferences?"

"No, sir."

"You can stop calling me sir, you know."

"Okay, sir."

Schofield groaned inwardly. "Okay, then. I'll call up the remaining two and we can all get acquainted." He stood up and shook Curry's hand. "We'll be in contact."

Curry saluted, which made Schofield roll his eyes, then left the office.

"I think he should be 'Tinman'." Rebound said as soon as Curry was out of earshot.

"Why?"

"Because… uh, he seems to not have any opinions or feelings towards anyone. He's a robot."

Schofield thought for a few minutes. "Where are you headed now?"

Rebound walked to the door, then said, "Home."

Lowe stepped off the plane and walked over towards the two armed soldiers standing in the arrivals area.

"Are you Officer James Lowe?" One of the soldiers asked him, while searching for something in his shirt pocket.

"Yes."

The officer pulled out a small square of paper and held it beside Lowe's head. "This is a picture of you and you don't resemble this picture."

Lowe glanced beside him and saw the picture. "It is me. I swear. I had an accident which I am sure you're well aware of." He said coldly.

The officer looked at him skeptically, then asked, "Can you produce identification?"

Lowe pulled out his wallet, which had been in his pocket when he was thrown from the ship. It was pretty burnt, but it held a partially melted I.D. card that proved who he was.

"Alright, Mr. Lowe. Commander Riggs has a car for you."

They walked outside and Lowe saw an armoured Humvee sitting in the airport parking lot.

They arrived at the Navy SEALS headquarters and Lowe was ushered into a large office with dim lighting.

"Good afternoon, Officer Lowe." A large chair was situated behind an equally large desk and a hard voice emanated from behind it. The chair slowly spun around and Commander Waylon J. Riggs appeared sitting in it. "How was your flight?"

Lowe sat down in a small chair on the other side of the desk. "Good. Now are you going to help me figure out what happened to the Constitution?"

Riggs sat up straight and leaned over the desk to examine Lowe more closely. "Yes. I knew one of the men on the ship. Sean Barnes. We weren't that close, but it's still a pity that he had to die." He cleared his throat and fiddled with a pen on his desk. "We're going to send a Recon unit in to try and figure out what happened to those men and your ship."

"How long until they begin their search?"

"Well, first we need to find a Recon unit that isn't busy, then we need them to do some hardcore training for a few days before we can send them out on the actual mission."

"Ballpark figure?"

Riggs sighed. "At most? A week."

Lowe set his jaw and gritted his teeth. "It's already been two weeks! The ship will have been down there for three weeks!"

"How do you know it sank? We don't know what happened to the Constitution, which is why we're sending in the marines!" Riggs' voice grew louder.

"I'm sorry, sir. A week will be sufficient. Do you have any Recon units in mind?"

Riggs calmed down and folded his hands on top of the desk. "Yes. Schofield's team. They returned form Antarctica about a week before you woke up from your coma." Riggs then signaled to Lowe that he could leave. "We'll be in contact with you as I'm sure Schofield will want details. For now, I believe you should rest."

Lowe nodded and left.

Gant gathered her things in her hospital room and joined her sister, Denise, at the door. "Finally, it's time to get back to doing what I enjoy!"

Denise sighed and shook her head. "What? Withholding information about your feelings for a certain lieutenant?" She eyed Gant carefully.

"Ha ha ha. You can be so amusing, LITTLE sister." Gant slung her bag over shoulder and they went to the front entrance of the hospital, only to run into Shane Schofield.

"Hey! They released you early. That's great!"

Gant grinned, then stopped when she saw her sister eyeing the two of them and laughing.

"Yeah, I was just going home to unpack, then to the gym to get back into shape."

"Do you want a ride home?" Schofield turned and pointed to a navy blue convertible. "I have my car here."

Gant blew a hair out of her eyes. "Well, my sister here was-"

"Going to pick up some groceries and is so very grateful that her sister has such a great superior officer! Have fun kids!" Denise gave Gant a thumbs-up behind Schofield's back, then left the hospital.

"Here, I'll take your bag." Schofield took Gant's bag from her shoulder and put it on his own.

"You really don't have to-"

"Fox… you were shot." Even though he had his silver sunglasses on, Gant could tell he was dead serious by the tone of his voice.

"Alright, okay. I have no objections."

They walked to Schofield's car and got in, dumping Gant's bag in the backseat.

"So how are the new additions coming along?" Gant asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. She winced at the bright light, pulled out a pair of black sunglasses and put them on.

"I'm glad you asked. If its not too much trouble, I wanted to make sure they got to meet everybody on the team. How about dinner tonight? We're meeting at that Italian place on fifth, uh, Santino's, at eight o'clock. Can you make it?"

"Yeah, sure."

They arrived at her apartment ten minutes later and Gant got out of the car, pulling her bag out of the back seat. "Thanks for the ride."

He flashed a wide grin. "Anytime."

"I'm looking for the Schofield party." A young man approached the maitre de.

"Is it urgent?" The maitre de looked down his long nose at the man.

"Extremely." The maitre de sighed, then led the man over to a long table with eight places set and a 'reserved' sign sitting in the middle.

"Their reservation is for eight, so they're not here yet." The maitre de was eager to get rid of the man.

"That's okay. I'll wait." The maitre de rolled his eyes before sticking his long nose in the air and walking off.

Schofield arrived five minutes later. "Table for seven. Under Schofield." He told a waiter.

"Ah, yes. One of your friends has already arrived. He is waiting for the rest of you. Follow me please." The waiter led Schofield to a table and there, sitting in one of the chairs was Andrew Trent.

"Hawk?"

Trent jumped, then turned to face Schofield. "Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!" Schofield took a seat across from him. "Have you not heard yet? It's all over the place!"

"What? What's all over the place?"

Trent made sure no one was eavesdropping. "The explosion off the coast of Chile. Jesus, you've been back more than a week and no one bothers to tell you a fucking destroyer was blown up?"

"WHAT?" Schofield exclaimed, a little too loudly as some people's heads turned and he heard some shushing him.

Trent leaned back in his chair. "You're the unit going in to try and find out what happened to the poor bastards."

"How do you know all this?"

"I met with Commander Riggs, ICG bastard, and some officer named James Lowe. Lowe was on the ship when it blew and he is burned shitless. He's got to have major facial reconstruction, let me tell you." Trent saw Schofield's attention was wavering, obviously apathetic to Lowe's problem. "So anyway, they figure they'll give you four or five days to get prepared and train before sending you out to South America."

Fuck. Schofield thought. "One of my team members will have to join us a few days later."

"Who and why?"

"Lance Corporal Libby Gant. She was shot during the mission in Antarctica."

Trent furrowed his brow. "That pretty blond? Shot? What a shame. They'll probably arrange transportation for her somehow."

"Why don't you come with us? I could use an even number on the team." Schofield was also paranoid that one of his new recruits could be ICG.

"I told you, I'm thinking about it. It's a big decision. Anyway, that's the situation. They'll probably contact you tomorrow." Trent got up from his seat and shook Schofield's hand. "I'll be in touch." Then he left.

"Yo Scarecrow! Sorry I'm a bit late…. But obviously everyone else is as well, so…" Rebound sat down, marveling at the teams slow show.

"I don't blame them." Schofield said, sipping a glass of water. "This is your little bit of down time. It's the time to gain back your shreds of sanity before you go and lose it again."

"Damn… then why did I show up so fuckin' early?" Rebound joked.

The rest of the team filtered in eventually and Gant was the last one to arrive, save for the three additions. Gant took the seat to Schofield's left and Rebound was sitting across from her. Mother was sitting on Rebound's right, across from Schofield.

Rebound unconsciously began humming the GI Joe theme song and the rest of the team joined in.

"I'm guessing this is the right table, then?" said a man who was well built with a large scar running the length of his face.

The team stopped humming and Schofield got up to shake hands with the man.

"You must be David Brown."

Brown smiled. "Dave."

Schofield pointed to the chair beside Mother and Brown sat down.

"We'll wait for the other two to arrive before I introduce you to the rest of the team."

Brown surveyed the people sitting across and beside him. There was a middle-aged woman, a young man who looked fit, a blond woman in her late twenties, and Schofield.

He examined closely. He was wearing dark glasses and they were indoors… at night.

"Is something wrong?"

"I was just wondering about your sunglasses, sir."

Schofield touched them lightly. "It's a long and gruesome tale, Dave. I'm not sure it's worth explaining. Just know that I wear sunglasses whenever I can."

Brown looked around the table. The middle-aged woman and the young man were looking at Schofield curiously while the blond woman had seemed to understand what Schofield had said and bowed her head, looking uncomfortable.

The second addition to the team to arrive was Alice Zellerman. She sat down next to Gant and introduced herself.

"Damn, that Curry is always late." Schofield glanced at his watch.

"You're not going to speed up time by glancing at your watch every few seconds, Lieutenant." Curry joked, sitting down at the table.

Schofield gritted his teeth, then remembered what Trevor Barnaby had taught him before he tried to kill him: As a leader, you simply cannot afford to get angry or upset.

"Glad you could join us, Curry." Schofield said begrudgingly. "Welcome new recruits to one of the USMC's finest Recon units. I am Lieutenant Shane Schofield. I will be your commanding officer for the remainder of your time in this unit, so you will obey what I say and respect me…

Gant, Rebound and Mother tuned this all out as they had heard it during their previous initiations into the unit.

"…This is Lance Corporal Elizabeth Gant. Her callsign is "Fox". Across from her is PFC Robert Simmons, or "Rebound". Next to him is Sergeant Gena Newman, or "Mother"." He was suddenly interrupted by Rebound.

"You know, you woulda thought we'd all get promotions after what happened down there…" He trailed off. "Aw well, life's a bitch."

Schofield looked at him sternly before continuing. "They are also your superior officers and I expect you to treat them as you would treat me."

The three new recruits nodded and Curry cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, sir, but would you mind if I inquired about the events in Antarctica?"

Schofield glanced at Mother, Rebound and Gant and saw Gant unconsciously shiver.

"I'm afraid that experience is all too fresh in our minds and I am unable to divulge that information." Schofield then asked each of the recruits to introduce themselves.

Alice Zellerman described herself as 'up to the challenge of the Marines' and explained that she had a medical degree from Princeton.

Dave Brown was an experienced veteran that reminded Schofield of Book. Brown explained that his call sign was "Hare", as in a rabbit or rabbit's foot. He said he had luck with him because the scar on his face could have cut his throat.

Brendan Curry was an experienced Marine with the physical build of a pro-football player. Schofield noticed he was disciplined well and decided having him in the unit would be a positive. Then he caught Curry staring at Gant. Then, maybe not. He thought.

They ate in relatively small conversation until Curry said,

"So when will Fox be joining us if we are called to duty in the following days?"

"Whenever she is physical prepared."

Curry muttered under his breath. "She already is."

Schofield caught it and replied, "What was that, soldier?"

Curry went a deep shade of red, then said, "I said that's good news, sir."

Schofield smirked. "Yes, it is good news."

Sure enough, when Schofield arrived at his office one morning, his phone was ringing wildly.

"Lieutenant Schofield."

"Scarecrow, we need a team to go to Chile to do some Recon work, You have two days to train, then we're sending you out." The line went dead, but Schofield knew who it had been. Riggs.