Georgia Federation Garrison, Union City, Tennessee…
Even though everyone in Georgia wears those ugly green uniforms, it still takes Miles twenty minutes of wandering around the Garrison before he finally finds a blue uniform in the sea of green. The young man recognizes him immediately and stands at attention.
"General Matheson, sir!"
Despite all the years that have passed, he still grimaces at the title. "Where are Captains Baker and Neville?"
"In command, sir. Come on, I'll show you the way."
Miles lets the kid lead him through a maze of tents and poorly constructed shacks, finally stopping at nicer looking log cabin with two Georgian soldiers standing guard out front. Before they can even ask who he is, the door of the cabin flings open, letting Tom and Jeremy fight over who gets to greet him first.
"Miles!" Jeremy nearly trips over one of the guard's feet in his haste to reach him, throwing his good arm around him without the slightest hesitation. "Man, am I glad you're here," he says with a grin.
Looking over Jeremy's shoulder, Miles chuckles as Tom rolls his eyes. "Yes Captain Baker," he drawls in an important voice. "The General has come just in time to speak with Major Goodwin about the situation at the border."
Jeremy abruptly lets him go, his face schooling into a professional look. "Right. Uh, Major Goodwin has been waiting to meet you."
Rolling his eyes, Miles pats Jeremy's uninjured shoulder and slides past him towards the cabin door, whispering in his ear on his way by. "Nice to see you too, Jer."
A man not much older than himself is standing looking over a table covered with maps as a few younger soldiers move around him, apparently fetching whatever things he asks for. Obviously, he's the one in charge here. His dark hair is cut close to his head but the grays still show, and the deep lines in his face are hard to miss. Miles approaches him with outward confidence, perfected with years of practice, and smirks when the boy fetching the leader's water glass drops it on the floor in shock.
"Carter! What the hell are you doing?" The man in charge barks. "Clean that up."
"Yes, s-sir," the boy stutters, shuffling away from the scene.
The older man goes back to his maps, grumbling to himself. "Fucking kids. How am I supposed to deal with Matheson with all these stupid brats running around?"
Grinning with amusement, Miles puts on his best cocky smile, channeling his inner Bass, and sighs wistfully. "I remember when our guys used to come out like that. Personally, I've found that encouragement actually works better than treating them like dogs."
The man turns to glare at him, his eyes taking in his face - which he no doubt recognizes - and his travel worn uniform with a steady glare. "How the Georgia Federation trains it's soldiers is no business of yours," he spits.
Miles cocks an eyebrow at him, his amusement fading into annoyance. "Isn't that why I'm here though? Georgia's incompetent training has resulted in you guys needing the Militia's help solving your problems."
The man puffs out an angry breath, his face turning a faint shade of red. "You have no idea what you're-"
"-Enough." Miles growls, surpassing irritated and going straight to angry. "You idiots are the reason I'm here and not back home with my wife. So let's just forget this little conversation and get this over with. Who keeps attacking your people and where do I find them?"
"We don't actually know yet," the man answers through clenched teeth.
Taking a deep breath, Miles approaches the table and turns to Tom. "Sit Rep."
"No leads on the previous border attacks or the attack on our people," Tom says. "But I believe there is someone who could help us."
Frowning, Miles asks, "Then why haven't you questioned him already?"
"The Georgians are refusing us access, sir." Jeremy says.
He can tell by the looks on both of his friend's faces that this is the real reason he's been called to Tennessee. Tom and Jeremy know exactly who they need to talk to, they just need him to get them there.
Turning back to the man in charge, Miles gives him an expectant look. The man merely glares back, as if daring him to question the ban. A small smile pulls at Miles' lips as he asks, "Well? Where is this S.O.B? I want to talk to him."
The other man bristles. "I don't take orders from militia scum, especially not their commander."
After weeks of traveling, having to leave behind his very pregnant daughter, and having his honeymoon cut short, Miles is has had enough. He stands up to his full height, towering over the other man, and speaks in a low voice.
"You have five minutes to produce the man my Captain wants to question, or this scum commander will rip your eyeballs out of your head with his bare hands."
The man scoffs, though visibly pales. "You can't touch me. You are outnumbered here."
"True," Miles says lightly, moving to rest against the side of the table. "But me and my boys here have been working together for a long time. Even with Jer's shoulder out, I guarantee no less than thirty of your men would die before you even managed to scratch us." He gives the man a wicked grin, catching Tom and Jeremy both smirking out of the corner of his eye.
"And what if I think thirty men is an acceptable loss?" The man asks.
"Then you're an even worse leader than I thought, which trust me, makes you really bad."
"Four minutes left, Major Goodwin. I suggest you use them wisely." Tom adds.
Goodwin growls low in his throat and turns to the boy that had dropped the glass of water. "Take General Matheson and his men to the holding tent and tell Lieutenant O'Conner that I said they're to see Dixon." Carter nods quickly and gestures for them to follow him out of the cabin.
Once out of earshot of the cabin, Jeremy leans close and says, "Tear his eyes out with your hands. Really?"
"Too much?" Miles asks.
Tom chuckles under his breath, checking behind them to make sure no one is listening before saying, "Nah, it was perfect."
"Good. Now one of you explain to me why we're questioning Dixon. The guy's an idiot."
"We know," Jeremy says. "But Dixon is the one that told us it would be safe to set up camp where we were ambushed."
"You think it was a setup? That Dixon is working with whoever's been attacking Georgia?" Miles asks.
"It makes sense," Tom says. "It would explain why Georgia has been keeping him in holding and not letting us speak to him. Maybe they finally realized he's their mole."
Carter stops them in front of a particularly shabby looking shack and has a quick word with the guards, who immediately step aside to allow them access. Miles follows Tom into the shack with hopes that he's right and that they've found their Georgia problem.
A/N *Hangs head in shame* I know it's been forever since I posted anything. Honestly, today is the first time I've written anything in weeks. I had to go back and read the last couple chapters just to figure out what was even going on in my own story. This is short, but I wanted to get something up so you guys would know that I'm at least alive. I also owe SparrowHawk an apology because I told her this would be up like a week ago, so sorry! :D As for the future, I'm planning to wrap up whatever loose ends this story has (meaning Georgia's issues, the mystery homeless guy, and Charlie's pregnacy) and finally put this one to bed. I think I've let it draw out long enough, right? :-) I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me and reading.
PS So I thought I posted this last week... But when I came back to read it so I could start the next chapter it wasn't there... I don't know what happened. Apologies for the unnecessary wait.