by Sam Schall
And that was putting it mildly.
“And I don’t blame you. That system betrayed you. Now let it work to get a bit of vengeance for you and the others.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She’d at least try to do what the general said.
“There are a couple more things before the others join us,” Okafor continued. “We have all been making assumptions where you’re concerned and I apologize in advance for that.”
“Ma’am?”
“We’ve assumed you’d want to stay in the Corps and that you’d want to return to the Devil Dogs. I even had orders drawn up to that effect. But it dawned on me this morning that no one has asked you what you want to do.”
For a moment, all Ashlyn could do was look at the general in disbelief. She had been so afraid they wouldn’t let her return to duty. Now Okafor was telling her that they’d assumed all along that she not only wanted to remain in the Corps but wanted to return to the Devil Dogs. The way it sounded, they had even cut her orders to that effect. Now Okafor wanted to know if they’d been wrong.
“General, I’m a Marine. One of my biggest fears since being returned to the capital and having Senator Tremayne ask me if I’d be willing to accept a pardon and return to duty has been that this was all a trick. Three things kept me going while I was on Tarsus. The first was the knowledge that as long as I lived, the guards focused most of their sadism on me and not on my people. The second was the need to survive so I could see my family, especially my son, again. The third was the determination to do nothing to bring shame on the Corps or the Devil Dogs, no matter what the court-martial results had said.
“When the attack on the capital happened, I knew I had to do whatever was necessary to keep the senator alive. I think the only thing that kept me going was instinct, at least at first. It would have been easy to slip away during the confusion to either hide or go after those responsible for sending me and my people to Tarsus. I’ll even admit I considered the latter on more than one occasion. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. The system and the Corps didn’t betray us. The people who manipulated them did.”
And maybe one day she’d really believe all that.
“So, the answer to your question is to ask another question. If I stay in the Corps, will I have some time after returning from Tarsus to spend with my family? My son has suffered enough as it is. I can’t leave him for long, not so soon.”
“Ash, I’ll be honest. We need you. We need you on the front lines again, leading our people just as you did before that last mission. But, that said, the doctors are adamant that you have the time you need to receive treatment and fully recover from what happened to you. You also need to be brought back up to speed, not only on the current state of affairs but on your training. So, unless something else unexpected happens, I can pretty much guarantee that you’ll be on-planet for at least a couple of months.”
“One more question, if I may.”
“Of course.”
“Ma’am, no one who has ever been a Devil Dog wants to move on to another unit. You know that.”
Okafor nodded, a smile touching her lips. She’d been a Devil Dog earlier in her career. She understood what it meant to be chosen to join the First Marine Division.
“But I will not return to the division unless I know for sure that Major Pawlak and the rest of the Devil Dogs want me.”
Shaking her head, a smile touching her lips, Okafor got to her feet. Wondering what she was up to, Ashlyn watched as the general moved to the door to the outer office. Once there, Okafor paused and turned back, motioning for Ash to join her. Knowing better than to keep a senior officer, much less the Commandant of the Corps, waiting, Ashlyn climbed to her feet and hurried in her direction.
Okafor opened the door and stepped through, Ashlyn on her heels. Without a word, the general moved through the outer office. She ignored her aide asking if she needed anything. Instead, she left her suite of offices and walked purposefully down the long corridor. When she paused before a set of double doors, Ashlyn looked past her and swallowed hard. She didn’t know what waited behind the doors and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Without knocking, Okafor opened the doors and stepped inside. The moment she did, a man’s voice snapped out the order for everyone to come to attention. Ashlyn followed the general, her eyes going wide. The conference room was filled with more than a dozen men and women, all of them Devil Dogs.
“General Okafor, were we right?” Major Pawlak asked once she put the group at their ease.
“We were.” Now she grinned at Ashlyn and motioned her forward. “I’ll paraphrase but basically she said she wouldn’t rejoin the Devil Dogs unless she knew each and every one of them agreed to it.”
Pawlak looked past the general to where Ashlyn stood. “Is that correct, Captain?” he asked, his expression as neutral as she’d ever seen.
Damn, she wished she knew what he was thinking. Unfortunately, he’d always had the best poker face in the outfit.
When in doubt, fall back on protocol.
“Yes, sir.”
“So, Major, can you think of any way to convince her that her return to the Devil Dogs is exactly what the outfit wants?” Now there was no mistaking the humor in the general’s voice.
“I believe so, ma’am.”
A broad grin replaced his perfect poker face. Then he turned and signaled to someone. Almost instantly, six men and women stepped forward. Each face was more than familiar. Ashlyn had served with each of them, had hit the battlefield with them, mourned their losses and celebrated their victories. Non-coms and officers, they had helped shape her into the officer she’d been until her court-martial.
“Captain,” Gunny Talbot began. He marched forward and stopped. His right hand snapped up in a perfect parade ground salute that he held until she returned it. “We represent each squad, platoon, company, battalion and regiment of the division. It is our pleasure to inform you that the Devil Dogs not only want you back but we demand it, assuming you wish to return. You are one of us. You are one of the best of us. No way do we want to lose you to another division or, worse, to civilian life.”
“Captain, I’m here on behalf of First Regiment,” a dark-haired woman continued as she stepped forward.
Like most of those present, she wore BDUs and combat boots. Her hair, so dark it was almost black, was pulled back into a braid. Her green eyes danced with excitement. Seeing her, Ashlyn’s throat tightened and her eyes burned with unshed tears. Damn, Pawlak and the general weren’t pulling any punches.
“Your boots have been impossible to fill,” the woman continued. “I swear if you don’t say yes right now, I’ll have the Gunny hit you over the head and we’ll hold you in the barracks until you come to your senses.”
“Ah hell, Luce, you probably would.” She laughed and shook her head. Then she suddenly found herself standing in the middle of those who had been waiting for her. These men and women had been some of her closest comrades. They’d been family in a way most would never understand. Now, it would seem, they wanted her back.
“I most certainly would. You’d be wise to remember that,” Captain Lucinda Ortega said simply. “Better yet, remember what I used to do to you back in the Academy when you tried to do something foolish.”
“Me? You’re the one who kept getting in trouble and trying to pull me into it with you.” She grinned, remembering their days together as roommates. Then she sobered some and turned her attention to Okafor. “General, you sandbagged me. That’s not nice to do to someone who is still trying to figure out which end is up.” She grinned to take any sting there might have been out of her words.
“I figured it was the best way to convince you that the Corps and, most especially, the Devil Dogs want you back, Captain.”
“And, in case you still have your doubts, Ash, I think I know just the thing to convince you.” Pawlak signaled to someone else.
At the sight of the small, bald man who stepped forward, Ashlyn laughed gaily. P
awlak was right. Reinhold Gerhardt, a former Devil Dog himself, was the tattooist who had inked every member of the DDs for years. Could he actually be there to redo her inking?
“Mr. Gerhardt, her doctor has cleared her for you to work your wonders on,” As she spoke, Okafor patted Ashlyn’s shoulder and then urged her forward. “Major, I’ll need you and Ash back in my office in an hour.”
“Not gonna be long enough, General,” Gerhardt said. “I’ll be needing at least two hours.”
“Come on, old man. I know your tricks. You can have it done in an hour and a half. That’s how long you have. Otherwise, you’ll have to finish later.”
“Always were a pushy thing,” he muttered before turning his attention to Ashlyn. “Off with that top, girl, if you’re wanting me to get to work.”
Laughing, feeling as if at least some of her fears had finally been removed, Ashlyn complied. After handing her uniform blouse to Talbot, she took the seat Gerhardt indicated.
“I assume this means you’ll be accepting your new assignment, Captain?” Okafor asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looked around at the familiar faces, all watching her with expressions of approval and welcome. Now she could believe she was truly home. The only thing missing were those still left behind on Tarsus. But that would be corrected soon. She had to remember that.
“Good.” Okafor gave a satisfied nod. “I’ll finalize your orders then. Major, Captain, I’ll see you in my office in an hour and a half. In the meantime, someone get the captain a beer and show her just how glad we all are to have her home.” With that, Okafor pivoted on her heel and left the room.
“You heard the general, Gunny. Get the captain a beer and let’s get this party started,” Pawlak said. “But this is just a taste, Ash. The real party will be when we return from Tarsus with the rest of our people.”
And that was the best thing she’d heard in a long time.
« Chapter 9 »
“You’re sure?”
Even as he asked, he felt the color drain from his face. He had to have heard wrong. Or the information was wrong. Or he was having a nightmare, a very bad nightmare. That had to be it. That was the only thing that made sense.
“Do you think I’d be here if I was mistaken?” Major Thomas O’Brien demanded before tossing back his whiskey. “You may be retired and out of the loop, Admiral, but I was escorting yet another bunch of brats through the security complex when the attack hit. I saw her.” He shook his head, as if by doing so he could erase the memory. “Damn it, I saw her. She was with Tremayne and Talbot and she most definitely wasn’t being treated like a prisoner. If anything, she acted like she’d returned to duty. She was armed, for God’s sake.”
Alec Sorkowski forced himself not to react. He couldn’t let his former Marine CO see how much of a shock his news was. Nor could he let on to those around him that they were anything more than two former shipmates who’d run into one another and decided to grab a drink. The problem with that was O’Brien. The man could not control himself where Shaw was concerned. Now that inability could very well work against him unless Sorkowski did something. There were too many people around and that meant too many ears listening in. Damn it, what he would give for a bit of privacy.
O’Brien was right about one thing, however. Sorkowski was out of the loop. Like so many others, he’d been given two choices after the last election. He could retire and accept limited benefits and pay or he could face a full investigation into his command and the probable loss of his commission. Because he didn’t dare risk an investigation, he accepted the chance to retire. Since then, he’d become persona non grata. Oh, whenever he was forced to deal with anyone on active duty, they treated him with the respect his rank deserved, but that didn’t fool him. He knew they laughed at him. At least they did it behind his back instead of to his face. Damn them all.
And damn Shaw. It was all her fault. She had been a thorn in his side from the moment she stepped foot onto his flagship more than two and a half years ago. She hadn’t fooled him one bit with her false respect and smug attitude. He’d been able to ignore her, thinking her O’Brien’s problem, until she began questioning their every order. She never let anything go, no matter how mine.
The fiasco of that last mission had been her fault. Everything had been so carefully set up. It had taken time and more than a little money had passed hands to make sure everything was the way he wanted in the sector. Then she’d come onboard and had started asking questions. Worse, she’d insisted on following their orders from FleetCom to the letter, no matter what he or O’Brien said.
If she’d just done as she’d been told, if she hadn’t questioned him and then tried to send her objections further up the ladder, none of them would be in the mess they were now. More importantly, he’d still be where he belonged, on the flag bridge of a destroyer. But no, she had to be a royal pain in his ass and the downfall of his career.
Well, he’d shown her. Fortunately, O’Brien had no more love for the woman than had he. Shaw might have been a thorn in his side, but she was worse than that for O’Brien. Shaw could have been the recruiting advert for the Marines while O’Brien was just putting in his time until he could retire. O’Brien was a good enough CO in peace time, but when the war broke out, the powers that be decided he needed someone as his XO who could get the job done. Shaw had been the last of a long line of officers assigned to him and the most stubborn.
So, when the mission on Arterus went bad, neither he nor O’Brien had any qualms about offering up Shaw and the survivors of her unit as sacrificial lambs. Someone had to pay for the fiasco and Sorkowski knew exactly who it should be. After all, if Shaw had spent as much time preparing for the mission as she had opposing it, she might not have led her people into the trap that had killed so many of them and even more civilians. Okay, maybe he and O’Brien hadn’t given her access to all the intelligence they had, but she’d had enough to complete the mission and get out without too much collateral damage.
Emphasis on too much. Unfortunately, she hadn’t even managed that the way he’d hoped. She’d come back alive. So, when FleetCom demanded answers and wanted someone to pay for the civilian deaths, Sorkowski never paused before offering her up to them.
Hindsight being what it was, he cursed his own lack of foresight for not realizing she’d have reported her concerns not only about the mission but about him and O’Brien to Admiral de la Cruz, Third Fleet’s commanding officer. More importantly, they should have realized she’d have sent copies of her messages to de la Cruz to that thrice damned Miranda Tremayne. When he’d learned what she’d done, it had been a mad scramble to alter Shaw’s orders and information downloads. Even now, almost three years later, Sorkowski wasn’t completely sure he and O’Brien had managed to cover all their tracks. Maybe that was why he’d been wondering how long it would be before Fleet Intel pulled him in for yet another “debriefing”.
And now, finding out that Shaw was back on-planet, it was as if his worst nightmares had come to life. But maybe he was overreacting. There had been nothing on the news reports about Shaw being on-planet, much less having been pardoned. But, after the attack on the capital, nothing would really surprise him.
God, if they had pardoned her, he was as good as dead. He had no doubts that bitch would come after him. She had said as much after her trial and one thing he’d learned about her was that she was a woman of her word.
He had to think. Just because O’Brien thought saw her during the attack didn’t mean he actually had. Even if he was right and it had been her, the fact she hadn’t been treated like a prisoner really didn’t mean much. The Marines manning the security complex would have armed anyone they felt could help protect the building and its occupants. No, he wasn’t going to worry about Shaw being put on the front line in the fight.
At least not yet.
First, he had to find out was why she’d been brought back from Tarsus and why no one warned him of the possibility of her retu
rn.
“Do you know if the others are here?” He forced himself to look and act as unconcerned as if they were discussing the weather. O’Brien might still be on active duty, but Sorkowski had long ago figured out it was simply so the Marines could keep an eye on the man. Frankly, he was surprised some of Shaw’s supporters in the Marines hadn’t already dealt out their own form of punishment for what they saw as his betrayal of one of their own.
“Not that I know of, but then I didn’t know Shaw was here until I saw her.” There could be no mistaking the bitter anger in the major’s voice.
“Have you seen or heard anything about her since the attack?”
“Negative. It’s not like I can go around asking people if they’ve seen her or if they know why she’s back.”
For a moment Sorkowski said nothing. A faint glimmer of hope appeared. Could he actually be lucky enough that the bitch had been killed in the fighting? The only thing that would be better than that would be if she died before talking to any of his enemies about the events leading up to her conviction.
“Good. That means she either managed to get herself killed or she is back in custody.” At least I hope it does. “Either possibility works in our favor.”
“But why bring her back?”
“That’s something we’ll have to find out.”
And the sooner, the better.
Sorkowski leaned back, studying his companion. O’Brien had never been the model of what one expected of a Marine. On the short side and carrying a few extra pounds, it wasn’t too far of a stretch to guess that someone in his family had the political connections needed to get him into the Academy as a young man. From there, they’d made sure O’Brien had secured postings that wouldn’t task his mediocre leadership skills. Then war had broken out and nothing could keep him, or most of the rest of the Corps, from the front lines.
And that was another cross Sorkowski had had to bear. If O’Brien had been even halfway competent as a Marine CO, Shaw never would have been assigned to the ship in the first place. Then she would never have been a problem. But, once she’d been assigned to the ship, O’Brien should have been able to handle her – or get rid of her somehow – without anyone ever questioning why.
