"Three weeks?"

Alex Summers stood at attention before his senior officer inside one of the semi-cylinder structures that made up the battalion's base camp. The building was empty of all other personnel at this early hour. Rows of desks lined each side, waiting for clerks and other staff to arrive for morning assignments. The desk used by the squad's Staff Sergeant was the furthest from the front door.

Alex and his squad had returned to camp the previous day from their scouting mission. A general debriefing had been provided to the senior officer upon arrival but his Sergeant had wanted to review details again after Summers had a chance to rest. The information was outlined in a report folder laying open on the desk along with the chuck of black metal that had been recovered from the explosion.

Staff Sergeant Nicolas Fury glanced up from the paperwork in front of him, his face stern and impassive.

"Yes, Private," Fury responded, "Was I not clear?"

"No..." Alex answered then, recognizing his error, corrected, "No, sir. It's just..."

"Just what, Private?" Fury asked, putting down his pen.

Alex shifted his stance slightly and sighed.

"Before we left on this last mission, "Alex said, "Outgoing plans had listed our squad on a flight back to the States by the end of the week."

Fury nodded, "It did. But orders have changed." He motioned for Alex to take a seat, handing him a second folder.

Alex took the documents and the one of the nearby chairs. After a brief read through, he frowned, trying to keep his temper in check. His powers may have manifested along with his anger in the past, but the years of training with Charles Xavier taught him control. The barest hint of the burning energy thrummed along side his heart.

"Three weeks," Alex repeated after taking a deep breath, "Our squad has been transferred to a flight route home in three weeks. And we're being placed on... special assignment... in lieu of the 104th squad... due to our... unique skill set..."

Fury did not reply, watching the Private closely. Alex ground his teeth and lowered the folder to his lap.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" he asked.

Fury nodded again, folding his hands calmly on the desk, "Granted."

"Sir," Alex began, "This is the fourth time we've been rerouted. Every time the squad gets the go ahead to depart, we're... pushed into another mission that's reassigned from somewhere else. Those other soldiers get to go home and...," he paused, "...and we're placed in positions of unnecessary risk that do not seem to have any relevance to what our primary mission here was supposed to be!"

"I'm sorry, Private," Fury said coolly, "I didn't realize you were privy to deciding what your squad's... How did you put it?... primary mission... is supposed to be."

Alex shook his head again, "No, sir, that's not what I meant..."

"Then, please," Fury replied, leaning back slightly in his chair, "Enlighten me."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, then paused. After it was clear no words were immediately forthcoming, Fury continued in his place.

"Have you been treated unfairly?" Fury asked, leaning forward again, "Would you say you've been placed in any more or less danger than the other men in this battalion? Have I given you missions that have been unimportant or placed you in 'unnecessary risk'?"

"No, sir, not you," Alex replied quickly, then continued, considering his words carefully, "It's just... It seems like... command seems to order us into situations that don't warrant any intervention at this point in the war when everything is ending..."

"You think Vietnam ends when you go home, Summers?" Fury asked, "I think there are several million people calling this place home who would disagree with you. From your last debriefing, it would seem your squad helped protect at least a dozen of them. Sounds to me like the intervention was very warranted. And your unique abilities added to the mission's success."

"Is that what you're going to put in your report?" Alex asked, glaring.

Fury, ignoring the impertinence, rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Summers... you're a good leader. The squad respects you and you do your best to look out for them. That's the reason I requested you for this assignment. But not every order passed down from command is related to your... genetic peculiarities."

Alex did not reply, looking down at the documents in his lap.

"Your mutations," Fury corrected, causing Alex to meet his gaze again, "They may be considered aberrations to many people in this world, but here, in this conflict, I consider them an asset. A skill set the men in my command have that gives them a distinct advantage over normal soldiers."

Alex looked surprised as Fury continued, "That's the reason I've had you men doing reconnaissance duties when your flights home were... rescheduled. I need a team I can count on to avoid further escalation of combat."

"And you think our team will do that, sir?" Alex asked with a slight grin. Fury had reprimanded the squad on more than one occasion for physical altercations at the camp. These were usually due to 'normal' soldiers harassing the mutants in one way or another. But not always.

"I think you will make sure of it," Fury said, pointing a finger at the Private.

"Yes, sir," Alex replied then read aloud from the newest mission form, "A diagnostic geological survey of the surrounding terrain to inspect on unusual climatological and environmental abnormalities in post-combat zones. What does that even mean?"

Fury shrugged, "If I knew, I'd be in a different line of work. Your squad will be responsible for escorting the research team into the surrounding territory as needed."

"How'd a research team get approval to come in when they're in the middle of getting everybody out?" Alex asked.

"Hell if I know, Private," Fury said, "I guess they have friends in high places."

"When do they come in?" Alex asked.

"Tomorrow," Fury responded, and then tilted his head, "Do you think Private Smith will be up for it?"

Alex nodded, "Yes, sir. Doc said no broken ribs. A little shaken up still but we should be ready. If I can ask, sir, did the engineers have any feedback about our souvenir?"

Fury glanced toward the metallic fragment, the three embossed letters D (or was it T?) R A facing upward.

"Afraid not," Fury said, "At least, not that they've told me. It's a shame nothing was recovered from the trigger device you described. That may have given them a better idea about what we're dealing with."

Alex nodded, knowing very well that any information about the bomb might never be shared with Fury, let alone Alex and his squad. Fury stood from his chair and Alex followed.

"Have the squad meet me in the sleeping quarters at eleven hundred hours," Fury stated as he rose, "I should have more specific arrival times for our guests by then. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Alex said, giving a quick salute before heading toward the exit.

Fury sat slowly back into his chair as he watched the Private leave. After a moment, he picked up the metallic fragment and turned it thoughtfully in his hands. His thumb lightly brushed the embossed lettering as a concerned frown creased his face.

Alex pushed open the door leading into the squad's sleeping quarters and stepped inside. He was not surprised to find both Private Glitter and Private Toynbee waiting for him. Toynbee jumped to his feet when he spotted Alex and gave him a salute. Glitter glanced up from the magazine he was reading but stayed on his bunk, legs outstretched. He looked at Toynbee with annoyance before giving Alex a quick nod.

"Toynbee," Alex said, walking past the young man toward his own bunk, "I told you before, you don't have to salute me every time I walk in. We're both Privates."

Toynbee frowned over his heavy goggles, "But you're our squad leader, sir..."

"But not your commanding officer," Alex said, and then added, "And it's just 'Alex'... not 'sir."

Toynbee nodded and sat on his bunk, "Yes, sir."

Glitter snorted with laughter and Alex gave him a warning look.

Ignoring it, Glitter asked, "So, what did Fury say? When's our flight?"

Alex glanced between the two men before replying, "Three weeks. We've been rerouted..."

"Again?!" Glitter interrupted, tossing his magazine aside, "You've gotta be kidding me!"

"New assignment came through," Alex said, trying to sound nonchalant. He had known he would get this reaction.

"Yeah, right," Glitter shot back, jumping up from his bunk, "This is total bullshit!"

Alex shrugged, "Take it up with Fury. He'll be here at eleven hundred."

"What's the mission?" Toynbee asked. He did not appear at all bothered about the departure delay or the new orders.

"Some research team is coming in," Alex replied, "And they need a squad to escort them around the area."

"Babysitting," Glitter said with disgust, "Terrific. Giving the muties the shit jobs again."

Toynbee scowled at Glitter before turning back to Alex, "What are they researching?"

"Unusual geological something or other," Alex replied, reclining on his bunk, "Sounds like a lot of trudging through the mud. But I guess it's gotta be important for them to get approval from command. Did Smith get back from the medic yet?"

Toynbee shook his head, "No, but we saw him at the mess hall earlier. Do you want me to let him know Fury's coming?"

"Yeah, Toynbee, thanks," Alex replied and the young mutant leaped away toward the main doors.

Glitter flopped down on his own bunk again, muttering as he shook out the pages of his magazine.

"Three weeks," he said shaking his head, "Fan-freaking-tastic."