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“So what’s with the prisoner?” asked the Marine.
“Native we found approaching our perimeter,” said Da
“Don’t think she’s a guerrilla?”
“No,” said Da
He wasn’t just going out on the limb personally here, but potentially endangering the entire mission. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case. She hadn’t been trying to attack them; she was just protecting herself, as he would have done.
Da
“How can you be sure she’s not a guerrilla?” said Peterson.
Da
“Going to have to evac it, no?”
“Well, I didn’t want to,” said Da
Peterson took of his soft campaign cap, scratching his head. For a Marina, he had relatively long hair—it might measure a full inch. Most of it stood straight up, as if at attention.
“We gotta do what we gotta do,” said Peterson finally.
“Yeah. I know. At the moment, I want to make sure she’s okay, then find out what she’s up to, move off of that.”
“Who we talking about?” said Colonel Bastian.
“Colonel.”
Peterson saluted sharply. Da
“She just came to. She hasn’t not gone out of the tent,” said Da
“Captain, excuse me a second,” Colonel Bastian said to Peterson.
“Yeah, I have some things to check out,” said the Marine. “Captain Freah, if I could meet you at the Whiplash observation post in an hour maybe? If you can get the radios for us, I’d appreciate it.”
“That’d be good.”
“There more to this than you’re saying?” Colonel Bastian asked after the Marine and his two men left.
“How so, sir?”
“You sound a little protective.”
“No, sir.”
“Why was she unconscious?”
“We had to knock her out to take her into custody,” said Da
“You weren’t thinking of setting her free, were you?”
“Absolutely not,” said Da
Colonel Bastian had a way of pushing up his cheeks and squinting when he heard something he found difficult to believe. Da
If this had been Dreamland, Da
This wasn’t Dreamland. Still, he was definitely being lax, at least by his standards/
He felt—what? Sorry for her?
She would have killed him, though.
“All right, Captain. For now, keep her isolated. We’re going to have to consult with Admiral Woods on what to do with her,” said Bastian. “But under no circumstances is she going anywhere without my specific approval.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Even if Woods tells you something else.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dog frowned. The steady hum of a Megafortress grew in the distance. “We’ve been chopped to PACCOM, but we’re supposed to maintain strategic security,” added the colonel. “I’m not exactly sure how we’re supposed to accomplish that. Especially given that Admiral Woods is a class-one—”
The roar of a Megafortress landing on the nearby runway drowned out the end of Dog’s sentence, but it wasn’t particularly difficult to fill in the blank.
Philippines
1200
Bree absentmindedly ran her hand along the back of her husband’s wheelchair, listening as the Navy intelligence officer continued his briefing about the layout of Chinese and Indian forces in the area. Her father stood next to him, arms tightly folded and eyes fixed in a glare. He’d already snapped twice at errors the man had made when talking about the Megafortresses’ capabilities. He appeared fully capable of strangling him if he misspoke again; his glare looked more potent than the Razor antiaircraft laser.