Clipped Wings
A Clover fanfiction written by: RinoaDestiny
Chapter 5
Two quick knocks on his door, solid but not loud. Getting off the cot, 284 warily approached. Although his room was beside the captain's as ordered, anyone could still try to lure him out. "Who is it?" Tried to sound unafraid and non-confrontational, just in case. His room assignment hadn't endeared the other squad members to him, widening the already existing gulf between them.
Resentment towards him, though. Not the captain. Not yet.
"Hachi, your captain. I'd like to have you join us for dinner."
He hesitated, hand on the doorknob. Was that wise? Wouldn't that make things worse before they actually went into action? Was this an order or a suggestion? "Sir?" he asked, unsure this time, though not saying any of his thoughts. It wasn't his place to question the wisdom of the captain's decisions.
"I know you've been avoiding us because you don't want trouble. However, I'd like everyone together tonight to discuss plans and none of us have eaten yet. If you're willing, I'd like you there."
Two seconds and then he opened the door. The captain, fully changed into casual wear, smiled. He himself wasn't the smiling type, but he eased his body language, trying to relax. The other man noticed, looking pleased.
"We're having stew tonight, unless you want a pre-prepared meal. Common pot – every man helps himself."
"Will I be of much use there, sir?"
"You're the sniper, so yes, I'll need your input. You've studied the maps, I assume."
"Yes." He hadn't invited the captain inside, but the other man didn't seem to mind. Still, he shouldn't linger here. "Should I change, sir?"
"No, you're fine. Let's go while the stew's still hot. Unless you want to grab a meal from your bag."
Trusting to the captain's confidence, 284 exited his room, locked the door – the key in his pants pocket – and followed him downstairs to the dining room. The eleven other members of the squad were already there, sitting down or leaning against the bare walls. Some were in fatigues without the jacket, some in full uniform, and some in casual wear like the captain. He didn't feel so out of place, dressed as he was in full uniform; it was a sort of security, carried over from his former life.
Eleven men glared or stared stone-faced at him, displeased by his intrusion. Remaining quiet, he moved into the room, careful not to get close to any of them. The captain strode in, leveled an even gaze upon everyone and spoke.
"This is a working dinner, so I need all of you to cooperate. While we have all been briefed, now that we're here, it's time to work out the specifics. Does anyone object?"
Silence, although some men blinked.
"Good. Let's get some grub and then we'll talk." The captain laughed. "Kenta, how was kitchen duty? Been a while."
"You'll see, sir, once you taste it. Can't go wrong with stew."
"Oh, you can. Takes talent to screw it up, though. You boys first – I'll get the maps laid out." From a deep pants pocket, the captain withdrew two folded maps and moved towards the center table. Opened and spread them out and then stepped back. Turned to him, still smiling. "Get some food. You don't need to wait for me."
"Sir."
"If it makes you feel safer, help yourself after me." Joining the line going into the small kitchen, the captain nodded ahead, expression changing to thoughtful. "Kenta mightn't like you, but he takes pride in what he does. Rest assured."
A small consolation, knowing he was unlikely to be poisoned or dosed with something to make him ill. Perhaps that was why the food was in a common pot, with each man serving himself. Not tamper-proof, but no one wanted to risk harming the others just to get at him. Had the captain considered that or was this simply how the squad did things?
"You'll need the pre-prepared meal tomorrow, so hold on to it."
The maps on the table. Scouting out the area? He had an idea about that, yet kept everything to himself for now. Presumption got people like him into trouble; the less of that, the better. Unless asked, he won't volunteer any opinions about the captain's plans for the operation. It wouldn't do to further enrage the rest of the squad, either.
By now, the line had shrunk, several soldiers walking out with bowls of stew topped high. It looked like beef or a substitute for it – Azaiea also had a scarcity of real animals – and didn't smell half bad. In the field, some soldiers learned how to cook with what they had, which often led to interesting combinations and frightening ingenuity.
It had, undoubtedly, been part of Ryuu's culinary bent.
He missed his late friend very much, being here amongst his enemies.
Tetsu, passing by, shoulder checked him. It wasn't enough to knock him off balance, but it was a warning. Unnerved, 284 shrank closer to the wall, trembling from the unwanted physical contact. Some of the others had seen, were scornful. No matter what the captain did to bring him into the group, he was marked. An outsider and hated. He needed to watch himself, to not become friendly with the captain.
He was theirs. He, 284, was not.
"It's your turn. There's plenty of…" Said captain looked at him, worried. "Is something wrong?"
"No, sir." He pushed himself off the wall, suppressing fear. "Thank you."
The stew pot, a third of its contents remaining, was enough for a full bowl. He took that much and no more, his stomach in knots. Exiting the kitchen, he faced the squad in the dining room, some already halfway through their dinner while others waited for the captain to begin. They gathered around the table, around the maps, nearly side by side. Hesitant, he remained where he was.
"Please come closer. I need everyone to see this."
Instructed so, he obeyed. Two soldiers begrudgingly moved aside, allowing him to see the table; he stood between them, anxious. The maps were upside-down – he was on the opposite end – and the captain, doing a quick check of the room, nodded. His bowl of stew was already empty, placed by the nearest table corner.
"Tomorrow two hours after dawn, we'll move into the region of operation to scout it out. Here." A finger on the larger map, circling around flat ground with two natural bottlenecks formed by the rivers and surrounding mountains. "According to the official photos during our briefing, we have a high vantage point here." A sharp tap towards the captain's left, finger now near one of the mountain ranges. "That's where you'll be, 284." A frown, as though something disconcerted the captain. "You'll need a spotter."
"No, sir. I work alone." He also didn't trust any of the others here to not shoot him in the back. The stew was good, but anxiety dulled the taste. "Do they know we're here yet?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Sir," one of the soldiers said, someone he wasn't familiar with. "Do we know how they'll approach us? Once they know we're here?"
"This country's eccentric. They send their top generals and officers out into the field, while the rest of us have them planning back home. They currently have three top generals, but the other two are not in residence right now. The one they do have – will send against us – is known to be arrogant and a glory-seeker. You know the type."
A few chuckles. He didn't laugh.
"It's going to be the bottlenecks once we arrive in the valley. Both us and their forces will utilize them, depending how this goes. Be aware that the battle may shift and we're not sure how many men he'll bring. This is why I want us there tomorrow to check the actual terrain and establish our positions and temporary field base."
"Two angles of approach," Tetsu said gruffly, leaning forward to check the map closer.
"Yes. What we don't want is a two-pronged attack against us."
"That's obvious. What's your plan, sir?"
"Establish base, send out scouts, and position our gunners for cover fire. 284, as per his orders, will take the high ground to dispose of the general when he appears. If he falls first, it may be over before it gets bloody."
His dinner finished, 284 looked over the larger map again. He'd studied it back in Azaiea over and over, forming his own strategies with the information he had. There was a smaller map near Ryuto, but he dared not ask Ryuto for it. The captain was correct, of course. Numbers didn't always win battles, but it did significantly tilt the advantage towards the one who had it. His own personal bitter experience with exactly that kind of encounter made him averse to a repeat.
A small elite squad versus a general with an unknown number of soldiers? What were their odds of success?
"284," the captain said, again with a frown like he'd eaten something bad. "You look like you have something to say."
"Sir." He looked back at the other man, trying to ignore the close presence of those beside him. "May I have the smaller map?"
"Ryuto, hand him the map."
Perhaps only because the captain gave the order, Ryuto pushed the map over instead of hurling it at his face. He took it, studied the more detailed close-up topography and landmarks and placed it down on the table. Looked at the captain for permission to speak.
"Go ahead, 284." Whatever bothered the other man had been suppressed, the captain's expression now neutral.
"Sir, you mentioned the general's arrogant and a glory-seeker. Does he also have a reputation for being hot-tempered?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because knowing that, it's possible he may turn a skirmish into a spectacle. His entrance will be important and could be our advantage or disadvantage." He raised his finger above the map and held it suspended. "If he decides to fly in, he has overhead advantage. Could see our positions before we're aware, unless we shoot him down first."
On his left, the soldier there scoffed, but otherwise kept silent.
"Or we may already be too late and he could be in position first." The captain's still face studied his and then glanced down at both maps. "We best hope that's not the case."
"It's possible, sir." Leaning forward, he pointed at the bottlenecks on the larger map. "If he goes by this river here, he'll have ample room for infantry movement. That's if he only brings ground forces and not air support." The room was quiet, listening to him talk. "That's the first bottleneck and the easiest for him to use to his advantage. This second one's narrower, which could cramp him if we can turn it against him. Anything could change, though, and he may have more men."
"You asked if he was hot-tempered."
"Sir, I won't presume. But yes."
"Bluff or goad him into making mistakes. Textbook warfare, but harder to put into practice. Still, you've given me plenty to think about. Does anyone else have any ideas?"
On his right, the soldier gave him a cool stare and then looked at the captain. "You sure you want his advice, sir? He lost – that's why he's here, isn't that right? Whatever you tell him, he'll obey. Whatever you want us to do, we'll do. But we're your men, sir, and he's not. He's got no right to make any decisions except his own. I say you stick to your plan, sir, and ignore him."
"I gave him permission to speak, Naoki. Do not presume to speak for me."
Silence, rigid and icy, and with it, the captain's expression had gone from genial to stern and cold. No one spoke, though some had nodded when Naoki was speaking. Resisting the urge to leave the room, to escape the escalating pressure he now felt, 284 kept his gaze on the captain and dared not look elsewhere. He shivered, for it reminded him of Barus and his moods, even if the captain hadn't shown any malice. Angry men were unpredictable, especially those he didn't know well.
"Sorry, sir." Naoki's long face didn't look apologetic. "We could've had one of our own, you know. We had before."
"That's for my superiors to decide. They have decided 284 is the best for this operation and I will not gainsay them."
"Of course not, sir. It's just…he's not one of us. He wasn't born in Azaiea, he has no loyalty to Azaiea, and I wouldn't trust him to guard me if it was just the two of us. Don't be too trusting, sir. Not with him."
"Enough." The captain's eyes narrowed. "Apologize to him, Naoki. For you have insulted him and it is uncalled for."
He wanted to be invisible. To simply disappear.
"Sir." Naoki's voice was toneless and flat. The soldier turned to him, a fake smile on his face, for his eyes conveyed the opposite. "Sorry," the other man said curtly, not mentioning his agent number.
He might as well have been a non-entity, a ghost among living men.
Having no choice – all eyes on him – he nodded. Accepting Naoki's apology out loud would have him beaten eventually, spitting teeth and curled around bruises and lacerations. It would come to that, if he didn't leave now; his instincts screamed at him to get out. Redirecting his focus back to the captain, whose demeanor hadn't thawed, he spoke. Fought the urge to lower his gaze or look away. "Sir, permission to leave? Unless you still need me."
There wasn't softness in the other man's expression, yet his tone was gentler. "Permission granted. You may retire early, 284."
As he left the dining room, he heard the captain order Naoki to clean-up duty. Quickly getting upstairs, he entered his room, grabbed clean clothes, soap, a towel, and a cleansing kit from his bag, locked the door again, and ran into the shared showers. Before anyone else entered, he wanted to be washed and back in the safety of his room for the rest of the evening. He slept better clean, even if that was unavailable sometimes when out in the field and could be considered a luxury.
Within ten minutes, he'd taken care of business and had ensconced himself back in his room behind a solid locked door. His room had no windows, but that was fine. Lying on the cot, waiting for sleep to take him – no nightmares tonight, please – he wondered if he'd survive this assignment. If the captain could thwart the mutinous sentiment growing amongst his men to physically chastise him just for being here. As Ryuto had said, he had Azaiean blood on his hands and should be dead and buried. Or discarded, if even that was too much for them.
Barus had given them permission to verbally abuse and beat him, keeping him in line because his handler wasn't part of the operation. Implied was that other liberties with him could also be taken if necessary; the captain hadn't mentioned that, nor had the rest of the squad brought it up. Perhaps they weren't like Barus's men – didn't take pleasure in that. Not that a brutal beating spared him any agony.
In the end, he existed outside of the Azaiean military hierarchy, which made him fair game.
Before…before, it had been different. A different life.
Memory unfolding like one of the maps, reminders of what had been lost.
Company four was missing – Ryuu's unit. Repeated messages to his former deputy commander via his visor went unanswered. It left Gingetsu terrified. Most of his company had successfully retreated, the rest of his senior staff imploring him to leave. Yet, to abandon Ryuu would be unthinkable.
Dismissing the others, telling them to get out before it was too late, he went off alone. Thoughts of Ran and Ryuu ran through his mind, distractions as he searched.
[Ryuu!] Again, despite all the previous attempts.
Again, nothing.
Fear, a rare emotion for him, lingered. He didn't like it. Trying to quell panic, Gingetsu continued striding through the field, armed with only his sword. He didn't know what to expect, but he wasn't afraid for himself.
Azaiea had a history with Ryuu and he couldn't leave him to an unknown fate.
The promise went both ways.