Stowaway (Redleg in Space Book 1)

by Z D Dean

  After settling into his seat, the trucks began to maneuver out of the extremely tight motor pool, and Zade grabbed his radio to send his report to the TOC.

  “Demon TOC, this is Demon 36. Over.”

  “Demon 36, this is Demon 6. You will be reporting to me directly for this one. Over.”

  “Demon 6, roger. SP time now. Three zero pax, nine vic. Over.”

  “Demon 36, roger. Be advised this is time sensitive, you must be back before the exfil movement. Don’t make me change my timeline. Demon 6 out.”

  What a jackass. Why do I keep putting myself through this shit? Maybe after this one I’ll become a private contractor. Sure, they still have idiots like him, but the pay is good enough to make it worth it.

  The movement out of the FOB was uneventful, as expected, since Zade and his men were the last souls to occupy the base. The trucks crept through the main gate slowly, and Zade was surprised to find that the local trucks had not started lining up to destroy the FOB after the American forces departed. Standard procedures required that Zade make periodic situation reports to the TOC. Since Zade wasn’t reporting to the TOC, and since 6 was being such an ass, Zade decided to maintain radio silence until he had something to report. After leaving the gate and getting one final check from his other vehicles, Zade began the movement to the objective.

  Driving through the third world at night was always an interesting experience, especially when the individuals of the third world were bent on killing you. The first time you did a night movement, it terrified you. The added adrenaline and being hyper alert made everything look like a potential threat. On one of Zade’s first night missions in Iraq, one of the gunners was a new kid right out of basic training. During a short halt when everyone had gotten out of the trucks to take a leak, the kid started lighting up a patch of desert with the .50 cal gun he was on. After regaining control of the situation and calming the gunner down, Zade found out that the gunner had seen something moving toward the trucks, so he engaged. None of the other gunners or drivers could see anything at the spot. Zade took his dismounts to check it out. All they found when they got there were pieces of dog and a long shadow that was being cast by some village lights. Although, if that dog had been carrying an RPG, he was no longer a threat.

  Night movements got easier as time went on, and as soldiers are exposed to them. Everyone on the movement eventually relaxed and began to process sensory information better, like his seasoned platoon tonight. This team was able to key in on abnormalities or important facts. This mission was uneventful so far, like the one Zade had been on last night. The one that was supposed to be his last in Afghanistan, Zade thought bitterly.

  Approximately one kilometer away from the objective, Zade ordered all of his trucks into blackout drive. It wasn’t the standard operating procedure. In fact, it was strictly prohibited due to risk of accidentally running over someone. But nothing about this mission was falling under the standard operating procedures. Zade then ordered the trucks to move into a herringbone formation off both sides of the road. The objective was inaccessible to vehicles so the last 800 meters would have to be covered on foot. Leaving gunners, drivers, and one dismount with every vehicle, Zade began the movement up the ridgeline toward the objective.

  Zade was just preparing to crest the ridgeline and get eyes on the objective. It had been about 100 meters and 10 minutes since he moved out of the radio range of his trucks. He could hear them due to their antennae and larger power sources, but they could not hear him while using his much smaller pack. As he peaked over the edge, Zade saw exactly what he was expecting, and exactly what he suggested to the commander in the brief. Sitting on a small, round plateau were four jingle trucks.

  “Fern on me,” Zade whispered.

  “What’s up, sir?”

  “Take a look. Just like I said, some trucks that are just staging to get on the FOB. Looks like 6 isn’t going to get his shot of glory as the last commander engaged in combat during the Afghan war,” Zade snickered.

  “That may be true sir, but how the hell did they get up here?”

  Both Zade and Fern had patrolled this ridge hundreds of times during the deployment, and they had never been able to bring trucks anywhere near it because of the terrain. The fact had slipped Zade’s mind. Both men had been around the backside of this plateau. The other side was just a 400-foot drop. How could four poorly maintained jingle trucks have made it onto the center of a plateau that sits 400 feet above any accessible roads?

  “Fern, set up a perimeter at the very edge of this plateau, as far from the vehicles as possible. I’m taking my operator back down so I can communicate with the trucks. Maybe 6 can give some guidance.”

  “Roger.”

  “We’re coming back up this side. Make sure none of the boots are pulling security over here. I don’t want to be gunned down on my last day here, especially by some cherry jackass.”

  Fern began giving orders to his squad leaders, who would then relay them to the squads. With any luck, they would just finish setting the perimeter as Zade got back to them to tell them that the mission was complete, and to start heading back to the trucks. Zade headed back down to get in range of the trucks. After a quick descent Zade could finally raise the trucks.

  “Demon 36d, this is Demon 36. Over.”

  “This is 36d, what’s going on up there? Over.”

  “I need you to relay back to 6 for me. You’ll hear everything as I talk to him. Over.”

  “Demon 6, this is Demon 36. Over.”

  “Demon 36, this is Demon 6. Go ahead.”

  “6, we are at the objective. The strange lights are coming from four jingle trucks. Doesn’t seem like there is anyone around. Over.”

  “Roger. Send one of your men to get hands on the trucks. If everything is clear, return to base. 6 out.”

  I shouldn’t have expected any less from him. Hasn’t he learned that you don’t go investigating strange vehicles, possible VBIEDs with no support?

  After instructing the trucks to have the dismounts switch with the gunner to keep them fresh, Zade headed back up the ridge. On the way up, Zade contemplated how he would handle the investigation. On one hand, he was pretty sure that the vehicles were no threat. On the other, he wouldn’t ask any of his guys to take a risk he wasn’t willing to take himself, and he still had reservations about the whole situation. At the crest, Fern was waiting for instructions.

  “I could hear the trucks from here. Who do you want to send, sir?”

  “Come on, Fern. You have to know me better than that. I’m not sending anyone. I’ll go myself.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea, sir? There is something very fucking weird about these vehicles.”

  “I’m as sure as I’m gonna be,” Zade replied. “I am tired, and I want this thing done fast and right. I’ll go up look for any wires, see if they smell like HME, listen for ticking. You know, the usual bomb stuff. When I’m satisfied, we can get the hell out of here.”

  With that Zade dropped his assault pack, no sense carrying it since the radio didn’t work. If he did have to move there was no sense in carrying an extra 80 pounds on his back. Stripped of the extra weight, he began moving toward the trucks. As he closed within 100 meters of the vehicles, Zade noticed something strange. The wheels of the trucks didn’t seem to be making contact with the ground. It wasn’t much—maybe a half inch or so—but Zade could tell that something was wrong. The headlights of the trucks were bright enough to wash out Zade’s night observation device, but not bright enough or pointed in the right direction to see the details of the vehicles. As Zade got within reach, he stretched out his hand to touch the vehicle, but to his surprise, he couldn’t feel anything. His hand passed through the side of the truck.

  Walking around the first truck, he could see space between the front of the truck and the side of the next truck. As he moved toward the truck diagonal from him, he looked toward his feet and back up. He looked back up in disbelief. He could see nothing but
mountainside in front of him. Stepping into the gap, Zade felt a hard thud. His NODs hit something, but there was nothing for them to hit. He tried to turn himself quickly and move back to men, but his legs were frozen in place.

  “Fuck!” he screamed into the night. “Someone help me I can’t mo…AHHHH!”

  Before Zade could finish a severe pain shot through him and he blacked out.

  ∆∆∆

  Fern was already on edge, and as soon as he heard Zade start to scream, he ran toward him. Something bad had clearly happened when Zade’s sentence turned into an agonizing scream. As Fern closed in on the trucks and the plateau, they disappeared. Fern watched in horror as a sleek, silver ship, now in place of the four trucks, began to lift off of the ground. The seasoned combat veterans around him were so shocked that none even got a shot off as their platoon leader disappeared into the night sky.

  The platoon sat in stunned silence for a few moments. Fern was brought back to reality by his radio.

  “Demon 36, this is Demon 36d. Over.”

  “Demon 36d, this is Demon 37. Over.”

  “We heard a large blast from near your location. It seems to have riled up the locals. Looks like we have a group of foot mobiles heading your way. Over.”

  Fern was still trying to process what he had just seen. How would he report it? Even with a platoon of witnesses, no one was going to believe their story. What happened to Zade? Was he alive? How do we get him back? How was their communication working again? Was it the ship that had been causing the interference and communication failures? Fern cleared his head, and ordered his men to begin movement to the vehicles. Zade was nowhere to be found, and there was no sense being away from the security of the trucks when the angry group of locals descended on them.

  “Demon 6, this is Demon 37. Over.”

  “37, this is 6. Go ahead.”

  “Sir, there has been an incident. Demon 36 is gone. Not injured or killed, just...gone.”

  “Gone? What the hell happened? Explain yourself!”

  “Something took him, I can’t explain any more than that, because I don’t know. I don’t know what happened to him.”

  “How the hell does someone just disappear? You know what, I don’t care. Your mission is over; you are to return to base immediately. I will not have my time as last commander in Afghanistan tarnished because some glory-seeking lieutenant went AWOL,” McElry fired back.

  “Sir, he didn’t go AWOL. Something took him. He was there, and then he wasn’t,” Fern responded.

  The following radio silence signaled that there was no help coming. Third platoon Demon company loaded up their trucks and headed to their FOB before local interaction could lead to any more loss. None of the men spoke during the drive back to base. None spoke on the flight to Salerno. It seems that everyone was still trying to understand what had happened earlier that night. Fern guessed that some were shocked at the events that took place. He was even more shocked that the commander would leave a man in the field without even attempting to mount a rescue.

  When the platoon arrived at Salerno, they were greeted by armed guards and a very upset Brigadier General. After a staunch dressing down, Fern watched as Maj. McElry was led away by guards. A plain clothed man claiming to be from the Criminal Investigation Division requested to speak to Fern and the squad leaders. The rest of the platoon was led to temporary billets. Every flight out of Salerno had been canceled.

  “Sergeant Fern, I am Captain Mathews. We need to have a discussion about last night.”

  While talking with Mathews, Fern discovered that some interesting electromagnetic readings surrounding the objective area had been found by the Airforce. High ranking Airforce officers had been sent to Salerno to investigate the findings, prior to Demon 3 starting their patrol. Salerno was having problems with communications; they could receive transmissions but not send them. The Salerno TOC had heard Zade requesting air support prior to the mission, but could not respond. In an attempt to regain communications, the radio operator dropped down to Demon’s internal frequency. After hearing the location of the objective while listening to internal chatter, the radio operator realized it matched the objective that the Airforce guys were flown into Salerno for. The radio operator told the battle captain, who then informed the general and Airforce personnel, who all crowded into the TOC to monitor events. Everyone in that TOC heard Major McElry falsely charge Zade with desertion and refuse to send out a recovery mission.

  “The general has put together a list of charges, and the court martial will happen here. It appears that the major came into country as an Army officer but will be leaving as a felon. The dereliction of duty charge is pretty bullet proof,” said Cpt. Mathews.

  “That’s probably for the best, but what about Zade. I saw him get taken away,” Fern replied curtly. “We have to go back and look for him.”

  “I’m not sure what you think you saw, Sergeant Fern, but it appears that Zade accidentally stepped off the cliff on the north side of that area. Ariel reconnaissance has confirmed that there is a body at the bottom of the ravine. A team of PJ’s has been dispatched to recover him.”

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Captain plain clothes, but I know what my platoon and I saw, and it wasn’t a clumsy lieutenant falling off a cliff.”

  “Sergeant, I understand that this has been a stressful situation for you. In either case there is nothing you can do for Lieutenant Zade; however, if you stick to this ludicrous story, I am sure you will find yourself on the dangerous end of a court martial, as you would have been complicit in the major’s actions. Now, I thank you for your input. It has been helpful. Go to the billets with your men. Shower. Eat. And grab some sleep. You deserve it.”

  After six weeks, the court martial was finished. Major McElry got what he wanted, and in Fern’s opinion, what he deserved; he was going to be remembered long into the future. The difference was good in Fern’s books. He wanted to be remembered as the last great commander in Afghanistan; in reality he was going to be remembered as a pompous ass, who intentionally left a wounded, possibly dying fellow officer in enemy territory just so his timeline didn’t change. After returning from lunch on day before the platoon was supposed to fly to Manas, Fern noticed that all of the men had official envelopes on their gear. Somehow, all of them had pulled special orders for different units. Some of the older guys like Fern got orders stating that due to drawbacks, they would be forcibly separated with a full retirement.

  After Manas, Fern never saw any of the men from Demon 3 again. It was claimed that Lieutenant Zade’s body had been recovered, but no one Fern knew had seen it. Just before leaving Ft. Bliss for the last time, Sergeant Fern, now Mister Fern, grabbed one last Stars and Stripes. Flipping through it, he froze on a page, refusing to believe what he was seeing. His former boss was in the obituaries.

  “First Lieutenant Alex Zade, KIA Afghanistan 2017. Because of his excellent service and courageous actions, Lieutenant Zade was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star with V and Combat Action Badge. Let his character and bravery be an example to us all.”

  Chapter 2

  Zade slowly became aware of the constant buzzing in his head, which was bringing him back to consciousness. Without opening his eyes, Zade slowly started taking stock of his body. Ever so slightly tensing his muscles starting with his neck, to see what hurt. Nothing seemed to be broken or wrong.

  There is no way I survived whatever happened to me without an injury, which means I will be remembered as the idiot lieutenant who went and got himself killed by a god damned jingle truck. Great. What am I going to open my eyes to?

  As an army officer who had utilized air strikes, Zade knew they weren’t always as discerning about their targets as necessary, and as a regular hellion, Zade understood that there was a distinct possibility that playing dead was the only thing protecting Zade from an eternity of brimstone. On the other hand, Zade had never done anything terrible, and he did die in combat so he should be opening
his eyes to see Valhalla and a huge mug of beer surrounded by history’s greatest warriors reminiscing about their exploits. Although Zade wasn’t a devoutly religious man, widespread beliefs are widespread for a reason and with his luck they were probably true.

  Fuck it, here goes.

  Zade slowly opened his eyes, giving them time to adjust to the light around him. The scene unfolding around him was not at all what he had expected. Zade was in what appeared to be some type of medical facility. It was extremely high tech, much better technology than anything around Afghanistan. Straining to remember what exactly happened before he blacked out, pieces of the incident started to come back. Zade remembered not being able to move, hitting his head, then just before he went unconscious, he remembered seeing what looked to be some kind of UFO.

  Impossible. I must have been hurt bad. Unconscious for weeks while I was transported back stateside to recover.

  As Zade was thinking about what had happened, he realized that he was thoroughly parched. He summoned the strength to sit up and look around his bed. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Zade was in a small one-person hospital room. The medical bed was in the center of the wall behind him. The door was toward the foot of his bed. There was a small table on his right side. Nothing out of the ordinary, except there was no IV. The lack of an IV was the cause of his thirst, but it also indicated how long he had been out. Zade decided to lie back down and wait for a nurse to make her rounds. When she came in, Zade would ask for something to drink. Hours seemed to pass with no interaction with the medical staff. Zade decided to gather himself up and head out of his room to look for someone, or at the very least a water fountain and bathroom. Zade pushed the blanket off of himself, made it to his feet, and began heading for the door. It was then that he realized that he was stark naked.

  Not the craziest thing that has happened in my time, but it is weird that I’m not even in a hospital gown.