by PP Corcoran
“Morning. Name’s Jacob. Fancy a coffee?”
A tired smile creased Kyle Henderson’s face. “Kyle Henderson, and coffee sounds great.”
At the sound of Kyle’s voice, Jodee’s head came up so fast Jacob was surprised it didn’t snap right off. With an excited shriek, she broke free of her father and bounded toward Kyle. To the amazement of everybody and, by the look on his face, the utter shock of her father, she jumped on Kyle, encircling his neck with her long arms, legs wrapping around his waist, locking her lips to his. The shocked look on her father’s face was replaced by one of confusion as Kyle returned her passionate kiss. Jacob saw the scowl forming and the telltale signs of muscles tensing.
Oh oh. To Jacob it seemed obvious that Jodee and Kyle had kept a little secret from Jodee’s father, and it didn’t look like he was best pleased.
A burst of laughter from Chris filled the room and his father looked at him as his anger momentarily stayed. Through the peals of laughter Chris struggled to speak.
“You really didn’t know… You… The master of observation… Now that’s funny.”
Dave looked from his laughing son to his daughter, her blinding smile and the tears running down her cheeks matched by the stupid grin on Kyle’s face as he held Jodee.
Dave felt his head swivel back and forward and his anger subsided as his memory dredged up the past. Kyle and Jodee had been inseparable ever since Kyle had first started joining them on family holidays years ago. Dave had put it down to simple childhood friendship but now, seeing the two of them like this, it was patently obvious that friendship had blossomed into something else and he had missed it.
The scowl returned as he wondered if Sue had also been duped. His scowl deepened. More likely she had been a willing agent in keeping their relationship from him. Prying Chris’ arms from their vice-like grip, he delved into his son’s damp eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. “So, you maybe want to go get your mother and she can explain what the hell is going on here?”
The burgeoning tears that Chris fought to hold back slowly rolled down his cheeks. “Mom’s not here, Dad. We got split up at the mine. We don’t know where she is.”
Dave stared blankly at his son’s ashen, tear-streaked face while his mind reeled in shock. The joy of being reunited with his family fled from him as he realized he might never see the love of his life again.
#
The sun had risen fully now and its warm rays bathed the front porch of the cabin. The odd, high-pitched calls of the indigenous birds echoed through the trees. Off to one side came the burbling sounds of the stream hidden from view by a low rise of moss and grass. Jacob stood in the cabin’s doorway, the ungainly tri-barrel slung over his right shoulder, a mug of coffee in each hand, in two minds whether he should approach the hunched form of Dave sitting motionless on the decks steps. Dave made the decision for him.
“If that’s coffee you’ve got there, then I could sure do with a mug.”
Jacob took the couple of steps that placed him beside Dave, passing the steaming mug to him.
“Thanks, Jacob.”
“No need. I was getting one for myself anyway.”
“Not for the coffee, Jacob. For looking after Jodee and Chris.”
Jacob let out an unexpected deep throated chuckle. “Me look after them? Try the other way around, Dave. I’m a farmer who inherited two young kids who headed into the hills with no real plan of what to do when I got there. I could have lasted a month, maybe a little bit more before my supplies ran out and I was forced to head back into town, and God knows how that would have ended.” Jacob took a sip of his coffee and enjoyed the feeling of the sun warming his face for a moment before he continued. “Jodee and Chris, though. They had a plan. They had hope. They knew when they reached this cabin, they would be safe, because that’s what their mom and dad told them. They knew that it was only a matter of time before you got here, because their mom had told them so, and…here you are.”
Dave rubbed at the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact with Jacob; he couldn’t let the man see the loss he felt. His thick voice, though, betrayed him. “Yeah. Here I am.”
“Now the Kyle thing. That was a surprise,” said Jacob to lighten the conversation.
Dave nearly choked as he tried to laugh with a mouthful of steaming hot coffee, which ended up being sprayed out on the grass at his feet. “Isn’t that the truth,” he managed to say. The smile on his face faded as his thoughts turned once more to Sue.
As the two men lapsed into silence once more, Jacob felt the somber mood return, hanging over them like a thick fog. Jacob had experienced similar feelings as he had sat in that rickety chair, ignoring the twins as he had kept his lonely vigil, thinking of his wife, Laura, and Jacob Junior. The need for revenge still burned deep within him. The open wounds of his loss were not going to heal for a long time. The difference between Dave and himself was that his wife and child were dead at the hand of the K’Tai. The fate of Sue, on the other hand, was still to be revealed. Jacob looked upon the hunched figure of Dave, wisps of steam still rising from the forgotten coffee mug.
“So, what do we do now, Dave?”
Dave didn’t answer immediately. He was immersed in memories of the late-night discussions he and Sue had had while considering the myriad of scenarios that would lead them to seeking sanctuary in the cabin, a cabin paid for by old man Henderson with no expense spared. There was a miniature fusion reactor encased in Molonov, buried deep below the cabin, that would supply more power than they could ever possibly need. The basement was lined with freezers full to the brim with food, with even more dry rations piled high on shelves around the walls. A borehole had been drilled so fresh water could be pumped from the water table. The walls and roof of the cabin might appear to be constructed from native wood, but appearances were deceiving. If you looked closely enough, you might just notice that the walls were slightly thicker than the logs should be. That would be the sheet of armored plasteel sandwiched between the wood. To top it all off, the lacquer used on the outside walls and roof shingles was a made-to-order compound of traditional lacquer and specially blended Molonov, making the cabin structure impenetrable to most sensors unless you were right on top of it. Besides which, Dave and Sue had added a few extra twists of their own that their benefactor, Maddix Henderson, had no inkling of.
Dave had one option, his resolve hardened.
“We stay here and wait.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Mountain Retreat
DAY NINE
A gentle nudging of her shoulder brought Colonel Reynolds back to the land of the living from the exhausted slumber that had seen her crawl into her thermal sleeping sack in the small hours. Reynolds cracked one heavy eye open and the figure of Sergeant Major Ola Turay swam into view. The first wafts of hot, freshly brewed coffee reaching her nose helped kick her brain into gear.
“You, Sergeant Major, are a life saver.” Reynolds sat upright on the low cot, her feet finding and slipping into her boots of their own accord, left arm reaching out to brush against the reassuring composite stock of her M89 propped up against the wall by her head before accepting the proffered coffee.
The Sergeant Major let out a small grunt of acknowledgment at her colonel’s appreciation and waited until she had had a first sip of the scalding hot liquid before she stated the reason for waking the exhausted colonel.
“Our guest is awake, but she’s not saying much.”
Reynolds nodded her head in reply, savoring the last dregs of the coffee, which was becoming a scarcer treat as the days went by and the marines ate into their meager fresh rations; another week and it would be K rations or nothing. Reynolds’ stomach turned at the thought of having to survive for any longer than was absolutely necessary on the dehydrated K rations, but beggars could not be choosers.
Standing, Reynolds passed the now empty mug back to the Sergeant Major. Reaching down, Reynolds picked up and slipped on the jacket that she had been us
ing as a pillow before hoisting her rifle and slinging it over a shoulder.
“Well, let’s go and see what our mysterious visitor has to say for herself, shall we?”
The dim artificial light emanating from the chem lights stuffed into cracks in the roof and walls cast strange shadows across the interior of the cave system that the marines of 182nd Battalion grandly called the Tactical Operations Center or TOC. Even at the height of summer, the higher reaches of the Scrabby Mountains kept their pristine white snow caps. At this altitude, the air was just thinning out enough that it was noticeable and everything took just that little more effort than at sea level. More than one marine had succumbed to altitude sickness while carrying out the program of mountain warfare training that Reynolds and her staff had put together prior to the K’Tai invasion. The disorienting effects left them, in military parlance, combat ineffective, a polite term for being left gasping for breath, prone to excruciating headaches and lethargy.
With the arrival of the K’Tai, a mountain top may not have seemed like the obvious place to make your headquarters, but this area of the Scrabby Mountains had more to offer than stunning views. This entire stretch of the mountain range held large deposits of Molonov, a mineral which had the most horrible effect on sensors of all descriptions, making it a perfect place to hide. The only way anyone was going to find Reynolds and her marines in these hills was to put boots on the ground and do an inch-by-inch search. Reynolds was willing to bet that the K’Tai had nowhere near the manpower to clear the areas they had occupied, never mind an entire mountain range. Well, she hoped so, anyway.
Making her way along the tunnel, she was forced to duck her head to miss the odd protruding rock. The marine section that had discovered the cave system had done so in the middle of a wild blizzard, and had been forced to take shelter in it for two days, during which time, probably from boredom, they had done some exploring, finding that the caves and the tunnels linking them seemed endless. One of her staff had studied geology prior to joining up and he had reasoned that the system had been formed during a particularly violent series of volcanic explosions and the tunnels were in fact the remains of lava tubes, which had once provided a natural conduit for flowing lava moving beneath the hardened surface of a lava flow, draining the molten rock from a volcano during an eruption. Whatever had been the cause of their existence, Reynolds was grateful for it as it now provided her and her headquarters company a secure base of operations while the remainder of the battalion were spread throughout the vast forested area between the crescent-shaped mountain range and the sea.
Taking a left, Reynolds and the Sergeant Major entered a dimly lit cave that held a small number of cots, all but one being empty. In the lone occupied cot was a lithe female form that was ignoring the ministrations of a uniformed marine and trying, unsuccessfully, to stand. As her legs buckled under her, the marine scooped her up in his large arms and laid her back on the cot while speaking to her in a rather exasperated tone.
“Now, I told you not to try that again. The head injury had me worried for a bit but the bone weaver has repaired the fracture and the medical nanites sorted out the internal bleed. You were lucky those marines had some Disavol with them. Let the meds do their work for another couple of days and you should be right as rain, OK?”
The look of disgust on the woman’s face told Reynolds what she thought of the idea of spending more time on her back. Before the tardy patient could say anything, Reynolds intervened.
“Hey Doc, how’s the patient today? I see she’s awake, at least.”
Realizing that Reynolds was behind him, Corporal ‘Doc’ Savage turned and braced to attention before answering. “Awake and determined to leave, despite still healing from three fractured ribs, multiple contusions and…” Savage gave his patient a withering glance. “A head wound that has forced me to keep her sedated for the last nine days…”
“Nine days! You never told me I had been out for nine days. I have to get out of here!” cried the woman, pushing herself up once more.
Ignoring his colonel, Savage spun on his patient, one large hand reaching out to halt her attempt to rise. His hand only met fresh air as, despite her obvious injuries, the woman slipped to one side, her hand looking pitifully small as her thumb slipped easily behind the corporal’s, fingers hooking across the fleshy part of his palm and pushing backward with a small twist, the corporal’s own downward momentum carrying him forward and around to land square on his back. The woman reversed her own grip; the throw she had just executed on the unprepared marine now becoming a wrist lock being applied with the minimum of effort on the woman’s part. Savage tried to stand but the woman raised her hand just a touch and pain shot through his wrist as the joint moved past its natural range of movement.
Reynolds watched in stunned disbelief as a woman, weighing no more than fifty-seven kilograms, easily floored a combat marine at least twice her weight. Sergeant Major Turay, however, was much less impressed, and the slick sound of a pistol leaving a thigh holster came from the entrance way to the cave. The incredulity of the situation dawned on Reynolds; Savage was still flat on his back, doing his best impression of a ridiculous statue, as he feared a single move would end in his wrist being dislocated by a woman who was still not sitting completely upright on a cot, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. It was too much for Reynolds and she let out a howl of laughter which turned every head in the space toward her. Managing to gain control of herself, the colonel held up both hands in a supplicating gesture as she took a step toward the ridiculous pair.
“Perhaps we should start again. Let me introduce myself. Colonel Reynolds, commanding officer, 182nd Marine Battalion.”
The eyes in the pale face of the woman on the bed seemed to sparkle as she released her grip on Savage, who skittered away from the cot massaging his aching wrist. The woman stuck the same hand out to Reynolds, who took it and shook it warily.
“Sue Carter. School teacher.”
Reynolds’ eyebrow shot up in disbelief, her next words coming out with none too well-hidden sarcasm. “And just what do you teach, Miss Carter?”
The twinkle in her eyes only got brighter as Sue answered in a deadpan voice. “It’s Mrs. Carter, actually, but you can call me Sue. Part of my syllabus is conflict resolution.”
A single eyebrow raised in skepticism as Reynolds processed Sue’s answer. From the entranceway, a snort of derision emanated from Turay. Doc kept any comment he may have made to himself as he silently massaged his aching wrist.
“Well, it seems that I owe you a debt of thanks, Mrs. Carter.”
Sue held up a hand to interrupt Reynolds, whose mouth paused half open, unaccustomed to being interrupted by anyone, never mind a civilian. “Please, call me Sue, only the kids at school call me Mrs. Carter and it always has the effect of making me feel old.”
Reynolds fixed her best diplomatic smile on her face as she continued. “Very well, Sue it is. Perhaps you could tell me how you managed, being a school teacher and all, to wipe out a group of highly trained K’Tai soldiers, with one of their own pulse rifles no less, wherever might you have procured that from? Before engaging and helping to destroy an enemy drone and saving the life of one of my officers in the process?”
Sue’s eyes regarded the colonel of marines for a few moments before she shrugged her shoulders. “Luck.”
Reynolds felt her jaw drop open before her face took on a pinched expression, arms folding in front of her. Behind her, in a stage whisper, she heard Turay say, “Bullshit!” --a sentiment that Reynolds herself completely agreed with. Forcing down her own urge to explore the incident in more detail, Reynolds decided that perhaps now was not the time to push the issue of the woman’s obvious martial skills and move on.
“Well, luck or not, you still have my gratitude and I’m sure in the coming weeks we will have plenty of time to discuss your… luck.”
Reynolds could hardly fail to notice Sue’s eyes narrowing, arms dropping loose by her sides, feet spread
ing further apart as body weight was perfectly balanced. The convivial, non-threatening mask fell away to reveal a more animal-like, feral character that caused the marine colonel to take an uncertain step backwards.
Turay saw it also, and she was in doubt as to what to do. The PIN pistol was up and aiming unwaveringly at Sue. “I strongly suggest you consider your next move very carefully, school teacher.” The sergeant major’s toneless command left no doubt to her sincerity.
Turay’s actions had given Reynolds the necessary seconds to recover from the sight of Sue’s mask slipping away, giving Reynolds a brief glimpse of the controlled violence hidden inside. Stepping to one side, Reynolds cleared the line of fire, eyes never leaving the t-shirt and shorts-clad woman on the camp cot who sat perfectly still; only her eyes flicking from the colonel to the pistol-wielding Turay to the incredulous faced Doc gave even the barest hint to what was going on in Sue’s head. My God, she thinks she can take all three of us!
The sound of a commotion in the corridor outside the sick bay heralded the arrival of two heavily-armed marines. Entering the room, their eyes went wide as they were confronted by the sight of one marine on the floor, their colonel backing up against a wall, and their sergeant major’s pistol leveled at a slight female figure perched on the edge of a cot. Training took hold and they followed Turay’s lead, two M89s joining the pistol aimed at Sue.
To Reynolds’ relief, the cheeky smile returned to Sue’s lips. “All this attention for little old me,” she said innocently, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
Reynolds needed to get control of this situation before it escalated further. “Mrs. Carter… Sue. I’m responsible for a battalion of marines spread over God knows how many square kilometers. The K’Tai might think they got us all when they destroyed Fort Sheridan, but I can’t afford to bet my marines lives on that. My plan is for us to hunker down until I think it’s safe for us to stick our heads back up and start sticking it to the K’Tai. That means that no one…” Reynolds pointedly held Sue’s gaze. “No one leaves here until I say so.”
