by Mark Tufo
“Sir, Sergeant Bolito’s party is arriving back.”
“Thank you, Private. You’re dismissed,” Paul said without ever glancing up from his reports. The private, however, didn’t leave.
“Uh, sir?” the private said hesitantly. Paul looked up from his papers.
“Well, what is it, Private?”
“Sir, they have casualties with them.” Paul rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“Private, when Sergeant Bolito enters into the fort, please have him report to me. Thank you. Dismissed.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” The private departed as quickly as he had arrived.
Paul, not for the first time, began to wonder if what he had done to Mike had been the right call, he just couldn’t see any other choice in the matter. Thankfully, Sergeant Bolito arrived more quickly than anticipated, preventing any more fruitless thought on the matter. Sergeant Bolito knocked on the outer office door.
“Sir, Sergeant Bolito, reporting as ordered.”
“Enter Sergeant, and at ease. Take a seat. I’m sorry about sending you out on this mission, it was something that had to be done.”
“Sir, I let them go.” Paul looked over quickly at the sergeant. Disbelief consumed his face for a minute, he quickly recomposed himself.
“Sergeant, I gave you a direct order. I was very explicit on the results I was expecting.” Now Paul’s face registered surprise. “So who, Sergeant, are the casualties I was told that you are carrying?” Now it was the sergeant’s turn to look tired.
“Sir, there was an accident. One of my men thought the Guardsman had a weapon and he opened fire, killing the Guardsman and his wife. In the ensuing melee, two of the Guardsmen overpowered one of my men, killing him. My men returned fire, killing the two transgressors.”
“This gets better and better, Sergeant! You fucked this little mission up royally! And on top of it all, you let them go. Whom, exactly, did you let go?”
Sergeant Bolito had never seen the colonel quite this riled up. He wondered if a firing squad might not be that far off in his near future.
“Sir, there was a Guardsman named Bennett.” Paul remembered him. No one too noteworthy, maybe a little shifty, but not too serious a threat. “The surviving woman,” the sergeant continued, “and the kid from the deceased parents.”
Nothing too serious. Paul doubted they could survive the week out on the streets, especially without any firearms. “And the sergeant major.” Paul was seriously pissed now. You don’t become a “top” in the military, unless you know your stuff. That man might have made a mistake regarding his store, but he was far from a pushover.
“Of all the people you should have let go, Sergeant, the sergeant major was definitely not among them. How much does he know, Sergeant?”
“Sir?” The sergeant looked perplexed.
“Sergeant! I know you tried to persuade him to come back here. How much does he know!” Paul rose and slammed his fists down on his desk, sending several pencils bouncing to the floor. The sergeant jumped a little in his seat at the sudden outburst. He felt the need to answer the colonel but he couldn’t find the right words.
“By your silence, Sergeant, I’m under the impression he knows more now than he did this morning. Private Cooley! Get in here!” Paul's aide, Private Cooley, who was listening to most of their conversation, was only a few steps away from the door when summoned.
“Sir?” the stocky built private replied, trying his best to look like he was completely out of the loop on this one.
“Private, stop looking at me like you don’t have a clue what is going on here. I want you to tell Major Salazar to assemble twenty-five of his best men, quickly. And when they are ready, have him report to me!” The private turned to obey his orders. “Private?” The private skidded to a stop.
“Sir?”
“I want all of this to happen in the next ten minutes; understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir, ten minutes.” Paul could hear his outer office door slam shut as the private raced through.
“Sir, how much of a threat can two men, a woman and a baby be?” the sergeant inquired. His attempt at damage control was, unfortunately, a little too late.
“Sergeant, I’m not even going to begin to tell you how much jeopardy you have put this fort in. The lives of five thousand people were already hinging on the head of a pen; but apparently you felt those odds were too great. You thought that maybe on the head of a pin would be a little more exciting.
“What if they tell somebody? Maybe one of these super gangs? Not that I’m worried about them all that much, but don’t you think that somebody else might notice all that gunplay going on? If the aliens get even a hint or a whiff of this place, we’re toast. Their main objective is military installations, no matter how big or small. They even destroyed bases that were inactive. Now if that doesn’t show thoroughness, I don’t know what does."
“Sergeant, I sent you on a shitty mission, but a mission that I trusted you to complete. I expected you to realize the importance of our continued secrecy. I care about every member of the UEMC, but even my long range scouts know that this is pretty much the last bastion of human existence. The shit is hitting the fan all across the globe. What the aliens didn’t finish off, man is taking care of. My scouts carry implants in their teeth in case they are captured; so they can instantly kill themselves."
“And don’t get any illusions that it is not a severely painful way to die. There is no antidote, but every one of them, among the finest of my men, has sworn that he would rather die than divulge any information regarding this installation. Sergeant, your mission was a direct order, the sacrifice of the few for the safety of the many.”
“Sir, Major Salazar reporting as ordered.”
“Come on in, Major” Paul motioned with his hand.
“This had better be good, Colonel. I was right in the middle of my physical fitness routine.” Frank could see that his attempt at levity wasn’t warmly accepted. The colonel dismissed the remark.
“Major, Sergeant Bolito here has made a very large error in judgment.” The major looked sidelong at the sergeant and noticed the fine lines of sweat that were racing down his cheeks.
“Sir?” Frank asked, looking back towards the general.
“The sergeant let four prisoners go,” Paul answered.
“Son,” The major said as he looked down on the still seated sergeant. “What did you do that for?” The sergeant didn’t have an answer for the colonel, nor did he have one for the major.
“What do you want me to do, sir?” Frank asked, looking back towards Paul.
“I want them back, alive if, and I stress ‘if,’ possible; otherwise, dead. There are two men, a woman and a baby.”
“A baby?”
“Yes! I’m not thrilled about this myself. First, try to persuade them to come back. But I cannot tolerate them running around out there with any knowledge of this installation.”
“Alright, sir. My men are assembled and ready to go.”
“Major, they have about a half hour lead on you, but as of right now, they are unarmed. Last known contact was approaching the Norwood line by way of the in-town train lines. And one more thing, one of the men is a top.”
“Son of a bitch! That pretty much means they’re not going to roll over and die for us.”
“Not only that, but I’ve got to assume he knows I’m going to send out another detail for them. He has a half hour lead, but with a civilian and a baby, I don’t see them making too much progress.”
“Sir, we will do our best to recover them.”
“I hope so. The fate of our very existence could depend on it.” Frank nodded quickly and headed out the door almost as rapidly as the private.
“Private Cooley! I know you’re outside the door. Go get the sergeant-of-arms and have him report here immediately.”
“Right away!” came the response from the other side of the door.
Paul sat back down and began reading his scout r
eports as if the last fifteen minutes never even happened. Rage welled inside of him. He was afraid that if the sergeant-of-arms didn’t arrive quickly, he would pull out his sidearm and put a bullet in the sergeant’s leg. Or somewhere equally as painful, but not necessarily lethal.
The sergeant sat stock still, afraid the slightest movement might incur the colonel’s wrath again. The sergeant-of-arms arrived minutes later, wearing his BDU’s with campaign cover and duty belt as was customary for all personnel on guard duty. After saluting Paul, the sergeant-of-arms spoke.
“Sir, Staff Sergeant Burkett, reporting as ordered.”
“Staff Sergeant, I want this man confined to his quarters. I want two guards on watch twenty-four hours a day, until I can figure out what to do with him.”
“Sir, as is customary, per Order 22, Article 7b, I must ask what this man has been charged with before I can place him under arrest.”
“Staff Sergeant Burkett, Sergeant Bolito is being charged with the crime of treason.” Shock registered on the staff sergeant’s face since the most serious crime he had seen committed was the occasional fisticuffs. Treason? That was a whole other matter.
The staff sergeant removed his weapon and aimed it squarely at the sergeant’s back. “Sergeant Bolito, you have been charged with the crime of treason. I want you to stand slowly and remove your holstered weapon. I then want you to turn all of your pockets inside out. And while you are doing this, Sergeant, I want you to realize that I have a fully loaded nine millimeter aimed at you.”
The sergeant rose stiffly. His violent shaking hindered his ability to undo his holster. He feared if he didn’t hurry, the staff sergeant might think he was attempting to escape. After fumbling with his holster for a few more seconds, the sergeant finally undid it and gingerly placed his weapon on the colonel's desk. He then proceeded to pull all of his pockets inside out.
When he emptied his left breast pocket, it finally made him lose it. The picture of his girlfriend, Tabitha, dropped out and fell directly on Paul's desk. Her sweet face peered up at him as if to say, “What have you done to us? We were to be engaged and married. We were going to make this world right again for our kids.” Tears welled up in the sergeant’s eyes.
Paul arose and turned his back. “Staff Sergeant, take this man away.” Paul was crushed. The sergeant had been one of the fledgling group’s first recruits. He had proven himself countless times on and off the field of combat. Paul was even planning to preside over the sergeant’s wedding with Tabitha. What was he going to tell Tabby? He knew it was only a matter of time before she came storming through the door.
Paul knew he had to make an example out of the sergeant. He couldn’t let a high crime like treason go unpunished. He had no idea what he was going to do. The staff sergeant left with the manacled sergeant in front of him, leading the way.
“Private Cooley, consider yourself off duty. Go back to your barracks,” Paul sighed as he gazed at the back wall, which displayed the magnified map of Walpole. He stared longingly at the spot marked by the high school symbol. Oh, to be back then, he sighed.
He turned back around to sit at his desk as he heard the private leave the outer office. He wanted to lock the door and throw away the key, but he knew he wouldn’t and couldn’t, for that matter. “What I wouldn’t do for a few hours of sleep,” he mumbled, again, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
***
Major Salazar rallied his troops to the last known point of contact with the fugitives. “Alright, men! We are looking for two men, a woman and a child. They are to be considered dangerous; but at this time, remain unarmed. I do not want them fired upon unless you are personally threatened. If anybody should spot them, I want to be notified immediately. I want to make first contact. If you fear their imminent escape, I want you to shoot to incapacitate. If that is not possible, I want you to shoot to kill.”
That garnered more than a few shocked looks throughout the ranks. “Men, I want you to understand the severity of this mission. These people know about our existence. They threaten everything that we have worked so hard for. Your friends’ lives, your sweethearts’ lives, even your children’s lives are in grave danger.
“If they resist, we have no choice but to extinguish the threat. Believe me, I do not wish for it to come to that, but I will not sacrifice the very essence of mankind for them. If there are any of you who are not up for this mission, I completely understand. No discipline will befall you. If this is something that you cannot stomach, I want you to return to the fort.”
As expected, none of the major's men made a move to leave. He knew they wouldn’t. Major Salazar had purposely chosen men who had strong ties back at the fort. Any of the men would die a thousand deaths to ensure the safety of the last bastion.
“Alright, since everyone is in, I want you to break down into groups of three and I want patrols at roughly hundred-yard intervals. Corporal Dewey, make it so.”
“Sir, yes, sir! You heard the man; line up and count off in threes.”
Major Salazar was impressed with the promptness with which his men performed their duties, but he feared that the head start for the Guardsman and the sergeant major’s knowledge of military strategy would impede his efforts. What got into Sergeant Bolito’s head? If he didn’t want to kill them, he should have just dragged them back, kicking and screaming, he thought.
***
The sergeant major tried his best to get his ragtag group hustling. He knew that Sergeant Bolito had only granted the troop a small reprieve. Colonel Ginson was entirely too smart to just let them walk. He had way too much invested to take a chance on his group’s ability to stay quiet.
The sergeant major carried the baby in his arms. Karen, who had just witnessed the death of her best friend, was carrying herself as best she could. She was a trooper, he thought to himself. But Bennett, the miserable shit, was the one slowing them down. Bennett wouldn’t even carry more of their food, complaining about a sore back. 'Of the three men I lost today, why wasn’t one of them Bennett?' The sergeant major thought sourly.
“Bennett! Come on! Pick it up! We have to put as much distance between us and Walpole as possible,” the top shouted over his shoulder. A miserable and testy Bennett was swatting away bugs and had completely stopped his forward momentum right when the top began to speak.
“What’s the rush, Top?” Bennett asked with sarcasm in his voice. “The pansy-ass Vato let us go, we’re free as birds.” The top would have just left Bennett to rot on his own, but he had foolishly confided his plan to go to a food cannery on the outskirts of the Norwood/Dedham line. And the top knew that Bennett, on his own, would be scooped up in minutes. Bennett was ready to call it a day less than a half mile from the conflict.
“Listen, you dumb ass,” the sergeant major started. He hated slipping out of military protocol, but this ass was pushing him to the limit. “Do you really think that the colonel back at that Stop and Shop is just going to let us go? He’s probably already put a bullet in that sergeant. Now move!” the sergeant major yelled.
That got Bennett moving again, it was at a grudgingly slow pace. It was just enough that the sergeant major couldn’t say anything but not nearly the speed they needed to escape. The top’s mind was racing with alternative ideas so that he could just leave the lollygagger behind. He realized that he couldn’t go much further with the baby; and they were going to need food. They lost more than seventy percent of the food they took from the grocery store. Every time the top turned around, Bennett was slyly sticking something more in his mouth, despite their agreement to eat nothing until they could ration it out when they stopped for the night.
The cannery was a perfect refuge. Not many people knew about it and it would provide plenty of nutrition for the time being until they could try to find a way to hook up with another National Guard unit. And then who knew? Maybe they’d go back with a tank and retake the store.
The sergeant major was about to reprimand Bennett again, but when
he turned around, he noticed a ridge, maybe a quarter of a mile away, and two or three Marines on it. He didn’t think they had been spotted yet, at least, judging by the Marines movements. The sergeant major put his fist up into the air to halt his small troop. Karen immediately froze as fear spread across her face. Bennett walked right into her, still smelling of the Kit Kat bar he had just stuffed into his mouth.
“Hey what the…” he said as he oomphed into her back. He finally looked up to see the top’s “no movement” signal and nearly choked on his candy bar, much to the top’s delight. The top studied the patrol a little longer, satisfied that they had not seen them yet. They were still coming in their general direction but they were looking in every other direction as well. If they had been spotted, the scouts would be double timing to their location.
“All right, we’re going to have to split up,” the sergeant major began and Karen began to protest.
“We can’t split up; they haven’t even seen us. Let’s just hide in this underbrush until they pass,” she argued.
“Karen, we can’t be sure the baby will stay quiet. And I’m positive they have more than one patrol out there. No, our odds are horrible if we stay together. I will get as far away from you, Bennett, and the baby as possible; and I will draw them away from your location.” Karen was about to double her protests. No way did she trust Bennett with her life. The top looked at her harshly as if to say he didn’t want any of his orders questioned.
“I will meet up with you and Bennett when I am sure that I have lost them. Keep on this path and don’t stop for anything, no matter what! You hear me!” he stressed. The top pulled Bennett to the side while Karen did her best to comfort the infant who was beginning to realize that not all was right in its tiny, little world.
