Disclaimer: See part 1
Note: If you're not quite sure who Pilar Ortega is it will become clear soon enough (she's someone you've seen before I promise). In the same vein, the name Pilar Ortega is on loan from the gracious Deslea who coined in in her excellent story "Five Thing that Might have Happened to Chola Chickadee." You can find it here: .com/scc_ I highly recommend checking it out.
2027
Kyle stopped walking when the barrel of the gun stopped pressing into his back. He thought they might be in an alcove off the bunker, though he'd sensed rather than seen the doorway. The LED on his escort's headlamp only illuminated a sphere a few feet wide and outside that sphere was utter darkness. "One of Connor's campfire boys come over to chat with you Pilar." The Gun Girl prodded Kyle forward into the light of the other 'Girl's LED.
"I came friendly Ortega, for information, and your sentries took out two of my men," Kyle said into the dark. "March's got a bullet in his shoulder. Dougherty's nose is broken."
"But they'll both live?" A voice inquired out of the dark like the speaker couldn't care much one way or the other.
"They shouldn't have been attacked in the first place. I've got a hundred armed men just west of your perimeter."
Ortega laughed. Other laughs joined hers, mostly female with a few male baritones thrown in. "Threats, Reese? Just like the other one, more balls than brains," Ortega said. "Only on this one that looks about right. Who knew the little brother would grow up to be such a pretty boy?"
Kyle had not expected her to know him on sight. In the past, when they had to deal with Ortega's camp she'd only granted an audience to their Commanding Officer. Until this time around, that had always been Derek. "Middle of the night like this- I could take out a third of your camp before any of yours picked up a weapon." Kyle said ignoring the catcalls that rose up from the dark.
"Maybe you could," Ortega granted, "If your boys didn't go stumbling through my space with lights flashing, sounding like a herd of bulls."
There was the sound of boots setting down lightly on the cement floor. Then Pilar Ortega stepped into the ring of LED light. She was tall enough for a woman but shorter than Kyle and on the wrong side of thirty. The white LED picked out the wrinkles that were just beginning on her face even as it made her long black hair shine, free from any hint of gray.
Like John Connor himself, Ortega dressed like any resistance fighter in odds and ends over bits of body armor. The Gun Girls called her General Ortega but her clothing bore no marks or ornaments to indicate rank. Unlike Connor, Kyle thought he would have been able to pick Pilar Ortega out even if he'd been able to see the other half dozen people in the room as well.
Ortega was unmistakable. There was a sort of perfection to her features. There was a delicate definition to her nose, cheeks, and lips. But her face was so still and expressionless that it looked more like it had been carved from warm brown wood than living flesh. Her eyes darkly defied the brightness of the light and looked down on him where he stood. She was a murderous bitch, the only human John Connor was likely to kill on site, but she looked like a queen. "Where's your big brother, Reese?"
You should be glad Derek's not here or you might have actually lost a third of your camp, Traitor. Derek wouldn't have taken kindly to Ortega's hostile greeting. But he also would have known what to say to the unranked General that stood before Kyle. Derek didn't talk much, as a rule, but when he did he always seemed to say something people thought was worth listening to. "That's what I'm here about."
Ortega studied his face for a moment then laughed without humor. "You lost old Sharp Shot Reese? You've got a whole platoon of campfire boys running around after a lost CO, that it?"
"I'm the officer in charge," Kyle said stiffly. "Derek took a company of ten on an Op a few clicks north of here. They were supposed to regroup at '78 post-Op. Any of the 'Girls have ideas about why my brother didn't show?"
Taunts rose from the dark in several languages. Kyle only understood half of them but the gist was that he was a boy whose balls hadn't dropped and that came running to them for help when he didn't have his brother to hide behind.
Ortega turned her head a fraction of inch to the right like she might be about to say something and the sounds fell silent. "They say 'no'." There was no humor on her face, just a raised brow.
"Ask them again." Kyle pulled a cloth bag, once cream-colored now stained all shades of brown, from his fatigues and passed it to Ortega, Killer Chola, traitor extraordinaire.
Ortega didn't look in the bag, just weighed it in her palm. There was enough powder in the bag to torch two Endos. "If it's worth so much I'd have thought Connor would have told you himself."
"What do you mean?"
"Some of my Girls caught Connor and your brother passing through our space two days ago. It was just them and a piece of metal that looked more like a grandfather."
"Caught them." Kyle's fingers reached for the gun that had been taken from him.
"Relax, Reese," Ortega said calmly. "My Girls gave them a warm welcome. Your General wasn't so kind."
Kyle was almost sure that neither Connor nor Derek would kill any of Ortega's soldiers out of hand. If he was wrong, he might not walk out of the camp unscathed, if he walked out at all.
"Your boys didn't stay long. Seems like they were in a hurry to get somewhere." Ortega paused and her mouth curved into a knowing smiling. "Your brother was, what, thirty- something?"
Derek was thirty-two, seven years older than Kyle. But Kyle couldn't see the relevance of the question so he didn't answer.
"Well, if my old buddy Sharp really is out of the picture the Connor camp won't seem quite so menacing as it did before, ay Girls?" More laughs and catcalls sounded from the dark but a frown crossed Ortega's face for a split second before the smile returned. "But it might just be you're yammin' a story at me… get me to let my guard down." Ortega snapped her fingers. "If that's the case, you just let Connor know we won't drop our fists just 'cause he shows us his new boy soldier and tells us a sad tale about Derek Reese. We won't be taken advantage of."
The sound of a dozen or so boots and muffled words came from the bunker outside. When the lights came up, three men and three women came slowly into sight of Kyle's rapidly blinking eyes. Two of the men were hooded and bound hand and foot by lengths of cord. The women and the remaining man held the captives.
One of the women pulled the hoods from the captured soldiers. Peters and Dobson. Kyle knew the men only vaguely, though Dobson, the older of the two, had served under Derek for almost five years. When the woman pulled the gags from between their teeth the men, Peters started protesting loudly. Dobson remained silent.
"Rapists," Ortega declared before Kyle could raise his won protests. "Some of my Girls raided a munitions cache a few weeks back. Your brother sent a unit to take back what the Girls grabbed." One of the guards spat at Dobson's feet. "But not all Derek's boys went for the bullets."
Three women Kyle hadn't seen before stepped into the alcove. Each bore a plasma rifle, identical to Kyle's own, slung over her shoulder. Two of them also bore old bruises on their faces, blots of pale, sickly yellow that darkened to brown at the bottom due to gravity and old blood. Ortega had given the victims the weapons of the men who'd attacked them. It was a small reparation, but Kyle didn't think Ortega was finished yet. "Kunis managed to get a knife in the man who was at her." Ortega nodded at one of the bruised women. "But Alverez and Stockholm are still looking for justice."
Kyle remembered that counter- raid. The officer in charge had reported success and only one casualty. "I'll take my men back to the Connor Camp. Connor will hear of their crimes and punish them accordingly."
"Oh, I know Connor will. What to do with rapers is one of the things the Bastard Boy and I agree on. But I don't know you Reese. How do I know you won't forget on the way?"
"You have my word, Ortega. We'll hear their cases and they'll be punished."
"Your word? What does that mean to me and my Girls who deserve blood?" Ortega's eyes narrowed. "How 'bout I give you my word that I'll hear what these boys have to say then I'll punish them fairly, just like I was your own General Boy."
Kyle's vision dimmed and he felt his voice rise in his throat like a growl. "Your word?" He spat out. "What do I want with the word of the bitch who betrayed Sarah Connor? Who murdered her in cold blood? You gave your word you'd keep her safe didn't you?"
Ortega's voice was calm, as if she hadn't heard Kyle's accusations. "Well don't you worry boy, you don't need to take my word. You can watch."
Ortega approached Dobson who swayed on his feet. "You know the claims against you," she said. "Anything to say for yourself."
"Make it quick," Dobson said so softly that Kyle had to strain to hear.
Ortega nodded and the woman holding Dobson led him to the wall of the bunker. When Ortega nodded again they dropped the soldiers arms and cut the bonds at his hands and feet. The shot left Ortega's sidearm with the faintest of sounds. Dobson dropped to the ground with a neat hole between his eyes.
"And you?"
Peters had never stopped struggling against his captors and redoubled his efforts when Dobson slumped to the ground. He addressed his last words to Kyle. "This bitch is crazy, sir. They raid our supplies. Steal from their own kind. I got a woman in camp. Kids." He twisted to look at Dobson's body and when he looked back his eyes were wide with anger and fear. "This ain't justice Reese! This ain't fucking justice!"
The guards didn't cut Peters' bonds and they continued to hold him as he struggled but the shot between his eyes was just as quiet and just as neat.
"You ever find that brother of yours, you tell him the ones who did this aren't the only ones I hold responsible. And this isn't the first time either, by a long shot. I'm sure he knows that." Ortega had been right when she'd said she'd give out the same punishment Connor would. The General didn't take attacks on human beings lightly. Rapists and murderers signed their own execution warrants. Derek had brought men before Connor in the past for similar crimes, and the men hadn't come back. Whether word of the punishments ever made it back to the victims didn't ever seem to be Connor's concern. Kyle understood her. This wasn't just justice, tnhis was a message.
"You go back to your camp Reese and you tell Connor I'll be ready to hear his offers when his men learn to keep their dicks in their pants. Until then, me and mine will take care of our own." Kyle's disbelief must have been on his face. "Yeah, Reese, your General wasn't too nice to my Girls but he had some words for me."
End