Author's Note - 30 Aug 05 - Thanks for the feedback! I'm having a ball writing this. As I mentioned in the notes in Chapter 1, I have been going back and refining some things - dialogue, technical doohickies and procedures, etc. - and this chapter will be no exception, since I am pretty much posting this with just a once-through. I have a habit of writing the bigger points of the story and filling in the finessing parts later. The tiny things may continue to change as I go back and reread what I have written, but rest assured that the plot will not change. You will not be slammed with a factoid that changed suddenly in a rewrite that throws the rest of the arc off kilter. If I have to do that, you'll be the first to know! Thanks!
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Chapter 2
Dry greens felt good. Flint sat on the edge of his bunk, looking at his boots. He always kept a spare pair that was spit-shined and ready to go in his locker. He expected that much of his soldiers, and he would not expect something of them he did not do himself. Duke's order had been simple enough – get some dry clothes on and report to the command center for a report. Still, no matter how he tried, he could not shake the involuntary shivers that ran through his body.
Flint gripped the rails of his bunk tighter. What was there to report, he asked himself again for the thousandth time since the helo had made it back base. Cobra had jumped them in brutal fashion. He had asked Bill for an update on casualties on the way to the barracks, and it was at least four. It was possible at least one of them might not make it.
He heard a tiny rap at his door. "Flint?" Wild Bill's drawl was unmistakable. "Flint, you all right?"
Flint summoned the energy to stand. He walked to door and opened it. Wild Bill stood there, shoulders squared, not in the least intimidated by Flint's anger on the runway.
"You okay there, buddy?" Bill asked, taking a cautious step forward.
Flint's eyes were uncontrolled. He could not seem to focus on any one point.
"I'm fine," he lied.
Bill was skeptical but played along for good sport. "Duke wants us to debrief. You up to that?"
"Yeah," Flint said, the fib slipping easily from his lips.
He noticed Bill's concern at what must have been a vision and a half of a man who had been dragged through a river. Flint blinked quickly to clear his vision and his head.
"I'm fine," Flint reiterated, trying to reassure the pilot.
Flint took a comfort in Bill's steadying hand on his shoulder. When they entered the main base area, everything suddenly looked foreign. The buildings looked like nothing Flint had ever seen. It was as if he were seeing the base for the first time.
Bill led him to the command center. The building was adjacent to the infirmary, where he knew they were working on the Joe fighters who had been injured in the battle. It took until that moment for it to sink in that Lady Jaye had not been the only one to take a hit. At least three other troopers had been injured. He had no idea if they were as bad off as he knew she was, but he would make it a point to check once he finished with Duke.
He walked through the doors of the command center, followed closely by Bill. He looked up at a clock they passed, noticing it was only nine o'clock. He had been sure it had been much later. It felt that way, anyway, he thought.
They continued down the hall until they came to a security checkpoint. Flint placed his hand on the biometric scanner. A green light bar ran the length of this hand, identifying him when it finished. Bill followed suite until the center's computers cleared both of them to enter the restricted area. One more check point, and they were in the heart of the command center. Large screens on the walls tracked tactical data and troop movements. International security and the fight against Cobra was a twenty-four hour job. The evening monitoring crew had come on duty, their voices a quiet murmur of information flowing about the room. Flint could also see familiar faces in the Joe command ranks. A couple of them gave a nod to Flint, letting him know they were aware of the day's events.
Duke saw them through the large windows of the briefing room that looked out over the command center. He motioned to them to enter. Flint took a moment to look at the status screens. Several air units were flying a patrol on heightened alert. Two ground units were on the move toward the strike point of the afternoon, presumably to get an eye on the area to see what remained or if Cobra had bugged out completely.
The briefing room was quieter. It had its own miniature set of screens with information that reiterated the larger boards in the command center. Flint saw Mainframe, Leatherneck, Scarlett and Hawk seated around the table. Duke motioned for Flint and Wild Bill to take their places in the empty seats that remained. Flint jerked at a sudden onslaught of shivering that he could not control. He worked hard to hide it from the others, not in any mood to detract from what had to be done. Still, his teeth chattered until he clamped his jaw shut to hide it.
"Flint," Hawk said, "we're piecing together facts of today. What can you tell us?"
Flint almost laughed – not because anything had been funny the whole day but because he had so few answers. It was difficult to tell your commanding officer you didn't have a clue what happened, that you were suddenly crouching behind a jeep, watching those around you running for their lives.
"Not much," Flint said. "Cobra got the jump on us. By the time we figured out what was happening, it was too late. We were getting pounded. It was like," Flint said, struggling, "it was like they knew where we were going to be and nailed us."
Duke poured coffee from a carafe on the table. "That's exactly what it looks like."
"They had us surrounded," Flint said, images of the battle flashing in his mind. "It wasn't like we just happened to run into each other out there. They surrounded us. It was precision."
Hawk sat back in his chair at the head of the table. "What can you remember about their armament?"
"Standard stuff, along with whatever party favors the Dreadnoks brought to the game. It was a matter of numbers, General. We went in with a small covert op team, most of whom were civil engineers, and they hit us with a freight train."
Mainframe nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what it looked like to us here."
"A head's up would have been nice!" Flint snapped.
"We didn't register them on the radar until they had already engaged you," Mainframe said calmly. "They were completely ghosted until just after the air support units were attacked."
"That's impossible," Flint argued. "There's no intel that they have stealth capabilities."
Scarlett looked at Flint. "Well, they apparently have something that's scrambling our read on them. We have two recon units heading back to the location to what's going on there. So far, it's been quiet."
Flint stood suddenly. "I need to get back up there."
"Sit down, Flint," Duke said. "You're not going anywhere."
Leatherneck laid a hand on Flint's forearm. "My recon units can handle it, Flint. They're not going to go running in there now that they know Cobra's hit it."
Hawk looked at Flint. "Sit down, Dash. You've done your part for today."
Flint reluctantly sat down in his chair once more. Leatherneck poured him a cup of coffee and slid the cup toward him. Flint took accepted it, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It felt good, warming him internally. It countered some of the chill he felt. At least it calmed the muscles in his jaw that had been so tense they ached.
"General," Duke said, "I think we have a bigger problem on our hands than just getting jumped today." He saw Flint take offense and begin to protest. "I'm not minimizing what happened, but I think we have a mole."
Hawk sighed. "I was afraid of this. It wouldn't be the first time, but this is the first time we've lost so much as a result. Do we have any suspects?"
Mainframe pushed a folder across the table to Hawk. "Obviously, anyone who works in the control center knew the mission was happening. You have the ground personnel who were on the mission. The support units were on a need-to-know basis, so they would only know if one of the main support operatives let it slip."
Hawk opened the folder and looked at the roster of names. "Flint, where did the attack seem directed?"
"Definitely on the surveillance unit," Flint said, more memories of explosions flicking in his mind. "The Dreadnoks were going after people for fun, but the air strikes were targeting the unit."
Scarlett picked up a remote control and pointed it to one of the screens in the room, pressing a button. The screen lit up with a radar playback of the attack from the air.
"Air units took a beating up there," she said, beginning the presentation. "As you can see, they don't show up until the first Sky Striker is engaged. Apparently, the pilots didn't see them coming, either."
"I saw them get hit," Flint said, concerned. "How are they?"
"Bumps and bruises," Scarlett said, "but they were able to punch out in time. SAR units picked them up about an hour ago. We lost a total of three Strikers to Cobra."
"It's a good thing you had three spares to cover Bill in the Blackhawk," Flint said. "We would have had hellfire raining down on us if they hadn't taken Cobra out during evac."
Scarlett looked to Hawk and Duke for guidance. There was a heavy moment of confusion between them.
"We didn't send any Strikers up," Scarlett said.
"I saw three fly overhead just as Bill was picking us up," Flint said warily. He looked to Bill.
Bill nodded with a solid dip of his head. "I saw 'em, too. Three Strikers were flying support in that canyon. They took out some choppers that had landed at the surveillance site. I didn't stick around to see their encore, but Flint's right – we had three birds in the air."
Scarlett shook her head again. "And I'm telling you, we didn't have the pilots to send three more up. We had already committed the rest of the squadron to the presidential detail for the weekend."
Flint remembered the presidential detail request they had received. The United States president was meeting with world dignitaries in Washington, D.C. He and Jaye had originally been scheduled to join that op, but at the last minute, he convinced her to go on the covert op in the mountains instead. It'll be like a camping trip, he told her.
"We'd have never made it out of there without the help of those Strikers," Flint said quietly.
"All right," Hawk said, "let's put the mystery Strikers aside for the moment. Flint, I want to start from the top. Tell me what happened up there."
Flint did not know where to begin. The details were so chaotic, the attack so sudden that there was no time to rally the small group into something effective.
"We had finished putting up the last array of the surveillance system. Dornan – that was the tech working on the system – said he needed about ten minutes to get everything online. We didn't hear it coming. The Rattlers lit us up hard. I'm assuming Night Ravens took out our Striker coverage."
"The Strikers never had a chance," Scarlett said sadly.
"Well, neither did we," Flint continued. "We had three wounded out of twenty troopers before we knew it. I had ordered Lifeline to start getting them evacuated back to the APCs. We waited until all the wounded had been moved. That's when Cobra surrounded us. We only had one place to go."
Wild Bill played with the pattern of wood grain in the table with contemplation. "They rounded you up like cattle."
"Something like that," Flint said quietly. He shivered again. This time, though, he knew Hawk had seen it.
"I want a full analysis of all data we have," Hawk said to Mainframe. "Duke, Scarlett, Leatherneck – I want you digging through personnel files and find out who tipped off Cobra. I want everyone from pilots to mechanics checked out."
"Yes, sir," Duke replied.
"Bill, as of right now, I don't have a choice but to ground you," Hawk continued.
Flint was shocked. "General, he was just . . ."
Hawk held up a hand to ward off Flint's objections. "In the meantime, Bill, you will escort Flint to the infirmary and make sure Doc or someone there checks him out. Let Lifeline know I'm ordering the three of you on stand-down for now until we can get a handle on everything."
"Yes, sir," Bill answered without argument.
Hawk folded his hands across his lap. "I know I don't have to say this, but I will – this situation does not leave this room. Conduct your investigations quietly. If we do have a mole, I don't want Cobra getting any more information than it already has." He closed the folder. "Dismissed."
It was the word Flint wanted to hear. He was heading for the door. Bill did not catch up with him until the first security check point.
"Whoa, slow down there, partner," Bill yelled from down the corridor.
Flint slowed his pace, looking back at the pilot, but he did not completely stop. "Sorry," he said.
"No need to be sorry, Flint," Bill said. "Just doing as Hawk ordered is all."
"Sorry about you getting grounded. I didn't think Hawk would do that."
Bill shrugged. "Not the first time my butt's been planted on the ground. Won't be the last. I'd do it again in a heartbeat if I had to."
"I just wanted you to know I appreciate what you did. We never would have made it out of there without you or our phantom jets, whoever was flying them."
Bill stretched his arms over his head, yawning. "Yeah, well, they pulled my bacon out of the fire when I was on approach to you. I saw those snakes closing in fast. They were sure as hell out to get us."
The infirmary loomed ahead of them. Bill stepped ahead, activating the automated doors, allowing Flint to enter. The triage area was quiet. There were signs, though, of how chaotic it must have been earlier. Some of the treatment areas were being scrubbed down. Flint saw bloody remnants of medical supplies on the floor where an attendant was sweeping.
Bill broke left and headed for the information desk where an older woman sat. Flint recognized her as the head nurse of the emergency department.
"I need to have someone check out Flint there. Hawk's orders," Bill said to her.
"Let's get him into a room," she said, standing.
She led them to a treatment room and told Flint to sit on the table. She ran up his sleeve and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm, inflating it. She got the reading and removed it, telling him to lie back on the bed.
He did as he was told, but his patience was running thin. "Have you heard anything on Lady Jaye?" he asked.
"Still in surgery," the nurse said, preparing a thermometer. "I'd imagine it's going to be a while before they're finished."
She probed Flint's ear with the tip of the instrument. He shivered again. Another woman entered through the treatment room door. She was short, looked impossibly young, with dark flowing hair. Flint inferred from the lab coat that she was a doctor.
"I'm Doctor Suarez," she said, approaching Flint with a smile. "Heard you had a rough day."
"You could say that," Flint answered, working very hard to keep a sarcastic tone out of his voice.
She looked at the reading from the thermometer. "Your temp is a little low. Lifeline said you took a ride in the river."
"Yeah, we did," Flint said, almost in a whisper. "Have you heard anything on Lady Jaye?"
Doctor Suarez turned to the nurse. "Let's get a warm blanket on him." She turned back to Flint, reaching down to take a pulse reading in his wrist, timing the beats on her watch. "I was here when you brought her in. She lost a lot of blood."
"Meaning?" Flint asked cautiously.
She let go of his wrist. She looked sympathetically at him. "It means that Doc is doing the best he can right now. The bullet punctured her lung and nicked an artery. That's very serious damage. We won't know for sure until Doc finishes up."
Bill folded his arms across his chest. "What about the others?"
"All three suffered gunshot wounds, but they were stable and in good condition. Everyone, including pilots, is going to be okay. They were lucky," Suarez said. She put a hand on Flint's shoulder. "I want you to rest here for a while."
Flint resisted, but she was insistent. The nurse returned with a blanket. They wrapped it around Flint. It was warm, like it had come from an oven. His body soaked in the warmth readily. He wanted to sink down in, melt away the cold he could not shake on his own.
"You're a little shocky," she said, pulling the blanket up around his neck. "I want to keep an eye on you. Irene will bring you another blanket if you want. You need to try to sleep a bit, though. Let's at least get that body temp of yours back to normal. As soon as Lady Jaye is out of surgery, one of us will come get you."
He was in no position to argue. His body was rebelling with exhaustion and stress. The blankets were so warm and inviting. His eyes closed. He remembered one of two occasions when he felt the same kind of blissful comfort, and both had been with Allison. Once had been on a mission, when they were forced to sleep close together for warmth.
And once, he recalled with a smile, had been purely for recreation. He awoke the following morning feeling her warm form next to him, knowing he could touch her while she slept, could hold her close and close his eyes. For one night, they had blocked out the war against Cobra and how it had changed everything. They forgot about death and destruction and all the ways Cobra had tried to take over the world in its own twisted way. He forgot all about it because she was there with him, his arm wrapped about her in the early dawn hours.
The affair had not lasted long, at least not for her. The next day, she told him how much of a mistake it had been, that they should never have gone so far. It was Allison who put the stops on and brought everything under control. She had actually distanced herself from him when she could, especially on missions. Still, she had her moments of weakness, when no one was looking where chemistry got the better of her and she would give in to a kiss or a caress. She had always been good about following the rules, and the rules said their developing relationship was a no-no in the world of military careers.
As a commanding officer, it had been stupid to even let it get that far, he knew. He was bordering on a severe conflict of interest every time he let it escalate. She was technically a subordinate. He was a warrant officer and had been named third-in-command of the Joes. She was enlisted, and although she had come up through the ranks in the Joes to Sergeant First Class, he knew he was still breaking the rules. There was no mixing of officers, warrant or full, and enlisted. Duke and Hawk had not said anything officially about it, but he knew they had an eye closely on the situation. Flint had quickly learned the meaning of discretion.
His thoughts strayed to that morning again, remembering the first birds he heard through the open window, a chilled breeze blowing through the curtains. He pulled her close, feeling the bare skin of her back against his chest. Her arm entwined with his, the two of them reveling in the cool fall air that filled the room with the perfume of decaying leaves. That moment had been solely their own, with no thought of war or the military or rules. He wanted that back but knew it was practically impossible. One of them would have to give up a career in order to be with the other, and neither was in a position to do that. They had both chosen this path they were on, to fight the good fight against a terrorist organization that was bent on ruling the planet through extortion and outright brutality. Cobra was nothing more than a gang of thugs with a higher-than-average intelligence level. Cobra Commander surrounded himself with like minds that wanted the power but none of whom were willing to share what they got. At least the Joes were all on the same page when it came to goals. They wanted to preserve freedom and democracy for all people, and maybe there was a little yearning for revenge against Cobra thrown into that mix every now and then.
His body gave one more shiver in protest of the day's events before he fell fast asleep in the treatment room of the infirmary.