“What are you thinking?” Jeff asked.
Samantha forced her eyes away from Faolan and refrained from admitting she was thinking only of the handsome man who made her smile. “I doubt we can reason with Jensen. He doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that we are stronger as a whole. I’m afraid it’s going to take brute force.”
“Unfortunately, I agree. I’ve got it,” Jeff replied.
“Sorry, Captain. This one is all mine,” Samantha said.
“No offense, Major. Jensen is six-foot-two and about two-hundred-twenty pounds.”
“Actually, he’s two-twenty-six, or so he claimed in the lab. He’s mine,” Samantha said as she detailed her physical skill set. She had always been small, and she had been homeschooled. Not a great combination for the child of a general living in base housing. For a very short while, she was a target for some of the neighborhood kids, until her father signed her up for martial arts, explaining her body needed to be as strong as her mind.
Karate came first, with a second-degree black belt by the age of eight. Then the family was stationed in Korea and Tae-kwon-do became the next focus. That time she worked privately with a master of the discipline and earned the equivalent of a third-degree black belt in only three years. While she never formally tested in a class setting, it was the material she had mastered. Jiu-jitsu followed, as had Akido, Hapkido, and some more interesting versions of street fighting from South America.
Samantha finished with a terse statement: “He’s mine.”
“Done,” Jeff agreed.
“What does all of that mean?” Faolan asked.
“She’s more of a weapon than you can ever imagine. Still want to buy her?” Jeff asked with a smirk.
“Does she mean to fight a man twice her size? You must forbid it,” Faolan demanded.
Samantha replied with a roll of her eyes. “I can more than handle him.”
She ignored Faolan’s protests as they entered the clearing. Her pack was set down as the rest of the men came into view. The spot was too beautiful for a confrontation. Even in the light drizzle, her eyes savored the large budding trees, the mix of weeds and grasses underfoot, and the sweet fragrance of it all combined.
Jeff called out, “Let’s take fifteen, people.”
Jensen didn’t disappoint; he was last in line and basically glared at Captain Harrison as he brushed past. The signs were so visible she didn’t need Boomer’s warning. Jensen kept apart from the group and muttered comments about how ridiculous it all was, pretending they were still soldiers. The rest of the men volleyed their glances between Jensen and her; they waited to see what would happen.
“Corporal Jensen, do you have a problem?” Samantha asked in a loud voice that captured everyone’s attention.
His pack fell to the ground. “You bet your ass I have a problem.” Jensen strode several steps in her direction. “I have a big problem. You left us stranded in the middle of nowhere and want me to keep playing the dutiful soldier.”
She took a few steps toward him. “I don’t expect you to play anything. You are a soldier, and I outrank you.” Pointing to the gold leaf embroidered on her jacket, she said, “I earned these.”
“Those mean nothing here,” Jensen taunted.
“They mean everything here. As your commanding officer, my duty is to keep you safe, and it’s a duty I plan on doing to the best of my ability. But yes, I brought you here instead of leaving you to die.” Samantha could hear the murmurs of approval from the men who watched the exchange. “My other duty is to protect my country. Captain Harrison has made it crystal clear that our goal is to attempt to return to prevent UNK005 from being discovered, which should prevent the war we are currently losing.”
“We’ve been told you don’t know if you can do that. How about this? Why not just take over here? We are ten highly trained death machines. We could take over and run this country. Hell, we could probably train enough men to rule half of Europe. But we can also do that without you and your ridiculous rules.”
Samantha listened and pretended to consider his idea. She didn’t believe a word of it. While he continued to boast about what they could do, she could see the uncertainty. She could also see the men look away from Jensen; they didn’t see him as a leader.
The man ranting before her was armed. The captured sword from yesterday’s skirmish hung in his belt. Her hands opened and closed as he began taunting her. Her fingers flexed as he challenged her command outright.
As her hands opened and closed, the thought came a little more into focus. Even when closed, there was air or matter against her flesh. Why does that intrigue me? Where is the connection I’m missing?
She pushed the idea aside as she stepped within four feet of Jensen. “I get it. You think you’re a bad ass who’s better able to lead.” If she looked straight, all she saw was his chest. Raising only her eyes, she challenged, “I also understand we are far from home and the military chain of command. There are no higher powers, no reports, no transfers, and no brigs.” She questioned him with a voice full of sincere passion. “Do you realize we are stronger together? If we all work together we could—”
Jensen interrupted her. “I don’t give two shits about what you think.”
Samantha weighed her options and lifted her captured sword from her belt and threw it to the side, but the Bowie knife stayed tucked in the pocket of her pants. “If you want command, you’ll have to take it from me.”
Jensen sneered as he threw his weapon to the ground. He said, “With pleasure, Major. You won’t be the first C.O. I’ve taken out.”
Faolan’s voice rose from the crowd, “If you wish to fight, then here I am. How dare you think of striking a wee woman?”
Samantha quickly said, “Not now, Faolan. Boomer, hold him back and out of the way.” She heard Faolan argue with Boomer but didn’t pay attention. Boomer would keep him out of it even if he had to sit on the laird.
She sank into a crouch and removed her boots and socks as Jensen watched. The man at least waited for her to be ready. There was doubt it was out of any sense of honor, but he was aware of his audience.
The grass was cool and damp under her bare feet as she rose to face him. The drizzle had left the ground a bit slick and would hinder both of them. Her jacket hit the ground, as did his. It was just as she suspected—Jensen was fit and muscular but moved without any fluidity.
The bow she offered was habit and mocked his lack of decency. She knew he gleaned that from the look on her face when his initial right cross was uncontrolled. The block she offered threw his arm to the side with ease. She was disappointed that his attacks were easily deflected; an upper cut countered with a middle block, another wild cross punch again thrown to the side, and a roundhouse kick that held little challenge due to his unsure footing on the damp ground.
Again her hands opened and closed and opened and closed, and she was mesmerized by the idea of the matter captured within her palm. What remains when my hand is closed? How much still remains within, and what type of value does it contain? Her mind raced with thoughts that wanted to center on timetravel as her body defended and waited for her opponent to tire.
Her feet slipped backward on the ground when his fist connected below her right cheekbone. Not full force, but enough to bring her attention back completely. Her tongue tasted blood, signaling the time for a bit of offense.
Jensen never saw it coming. Samantha’s first attack drove the air from his chest. The combination of kicks delivered to his left side diverted his attention from the punches that immediately struck his solar plexus. As he gasped for air, she spun and struck his kidneys on the right side. She jumped to the other side and delivered a series of strikes to his left rib cage.
He paled from the lack of air, and she delivered the final blow; she jumped up and delivered a spinning back kick that
knocked him to the ground. Before he realized he was down, Samantha had him flipped to his stomach with one arm pinned at a rather painful angle across his back while one knee pressed against the kidney she had struck repeatedly. Unlike her opponent, there had been no randomness to her strikes; each one was carefully coordinated to bring Jensen down swiftly. With her free hand, she grabbed her knife and held it to the side of his neck.
“This is over, Corporal. You can’t get enough air to remain conscious, and I’m barely warmed up,” Samantha said as she pulled the restrained arm tighter. “You have two choices: yield to my authority and I let you live and come with us, or you can assume what ‘or’ means.” She didn’t have an answer to the “or” and hoped she didn’t need one.
Jensen whispered something she didn’t quite catch. She asked again, “With or against, Corporal?” The blade was pressed tight against his artery as she asked.
She heard the second reply, the “with” she had wanted. But she wasn’t going to let him off that easy. Her knee pressed harder onto the bruised kidney as she said, “This will not happen again. We stay together, we fight together, we work together, and we live together for now. Where do we stand, Corporal?”
He whispered, “Five by five.”
Close enough to the answer she wanted. Samantha rose from his back and turned to address the watching men. She called out, “Does anyone else have an issue with my command or with Captain Harrison?”
It was almost a chorus that replied, “No, ma’am.”
“I will repeat one last time. We are soldiers, and we will act accordingly. All actions need to be for the benefit of the squad. I will keep you safe and will work to prevent the horror facing our home. Should we be able to go back, the choice will be yours whether you come with me or not. Your safety is my first priority. Any questions?”
Samantha wasn’t surprised to be met with silence. She pointed to Private Miller and said, “Medic, take a look at him. There will be bruised ribs but nothing broken.”
Miller reached into his pack and pulled out the med kit. He said, “No offense, Major, but I think he needs a quick scan.”
“Scan away, but nothing is broken. If I had wanted something broken, it would be. My only goal was to take him down intact,” Samantha answered, confident in the statement and her abilities.
She turned as she felt Boomer at her back and took her socks and boots from his hand. The man sat on the damp ground by her side as she brushed off her feet. “Nicely done. It’s been a few weeks since you had a decent workout. Good to know you haven’t lost your skills.”
Samantha smiled as she replied, “What do you think?”
Boomer watched the men who talked together. He said, “While I’m never a fan of an ass-kicking, it’s what was needed. The rest of the men will follow.”
Samantha nodded, though she never wanted to lead via fear. That was the way of the United Forces, not her. “Will they follow only because they’re afraid of me?”
“If you had killed him maybe, but you only taught him the lesson he asked for,” Boomer answered. “What were you thinking about before Jensen snuck one in?”
Samantha studied the trees in the distance as she said, “An idea that won’t quite materialize. Think I became a bit lost in it.”
“Next time focus on the fight,” Boomer chided as he helped her to her feet.
Jeff and Faolan walked to join them. Faolan reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand and looked for injury. “Are you hurt?”
She could see the concern in his eyes and felt the gentle warm hands on her cheek. Samantha answered, “Just grazed me a bit.”
“I should have fought the man in your place. ‘Tis my duty to protect you,” Faolan said as his thumb wiped a small trace of blood from her lip.
Samantha pulled back away from his touch that left tingles in its wake and said, “This one was mine to handle, but thank you.” There was no time for flirting. As C.O., her leadership ability was all that mattered.
Faolan was about to add more, but Jeff interrupted, “You are right, only bruised ribs and a bruised kidney. I told Miller no pain killers as Jensen asked for the beating, and it’s nothing severe.”
Samantha nodded and turned back to Faolan. “Would it be all right if we strapped his pack to your horse?”
“You would coddle the man you should have killed?” Faolan asked with disbelief.
“Coddle, no. However, we still have a few hours left on foot, and I want him to be able to keep up with us. It’s not our way to kill our own men,” Samantha explained.
“Nor is it mine: however, none of my men would challenge my place as leader,” Faolan said.
“Jensen was scared, nothing more. I think he needed to know he was led by someone stronger,” Samantha said, hoping it was that simple.
Faolan looked at Boomer and said, “Next time let challengers face the strength by your side, or me.”
Samantha looked up at Boomer and said, “This bug guy? Don’t worry, he’s always got my back.” When Boomer laughed, she continued, “Would you and Jeff get everyone ready to go, please? We’ve taken the tranquil out of this place.”
Jeff nodded and called out, “Boots walking in five.” Then Boomer went to retrieve their packs.
Faolan asked quietly, “Do you expect more trouble from the man?”
Samantha looked up as she put her jacket back on and said, “I don’t think so, but we’ll keep an eye on him just the same.”
Faolan asked, “What did you mean you plan on going back?”
Samantha was surprised to see hurt on his face as he asked the question. “I don’t know if we can get back, but I need to try.” She tried to think of a simple and understandable way to answer the question. “My people are losing a war that I may be able to prevent. There is an object that I need to keep from being found, an object of great power. Does that make any sense to you?”
“I have heard many tales and legends of mythical objects. If you seek one you ken is real, then I understand,” Faolan answered. He then asked, “I saw you arrive. Where are you from?”
The smiling, flirting man was gone. In his place stood the leader of a tribe and a man who demanded truth. He also deserved it if he was going to shelter them. Samantha said, “We are from a land beyond the sea to the west and almost one thousand years from now.”
Faolan pondered the response even as the color drained slightly from his face. He asked with narrowed eyes, “How is that possible?”
“I made it possible,” she said.
The smile returned as he said, “You are strong, beautiful, and wise. Such a fine combination.”
Though she blushed at the compliment, Samantha asked, “Do you believe me?”
“I have heard enough whispers among your men and listened when you thought I was absent. There is belief if only because you dinna try to pretend otherwise with me. Besides it makes other tales seem possible,” Faolan said almost absently.
His reply echoed briefly in her head, other tales, even as her hand began to open and close again. Samantha shook her head to bring her back to the moment and asked, “What other tales?”
Faolan smiled. “When we reach my home, I will fill your nights with such tales. For now, thank you for your honesty, Samantha.”
Boomer closed in with her pack in hand. “You ready?”
Samantha strapped on the weight. “I need time to work tonight. There is something very big that I’m missing.”
Jeff was the one who answered, “Are you talking about connecting with that thing while we sit out in the open?”
“It’s important,” Samantha replied. “I just need two hours, max.”
Jeff looked at Boomer. “Is it safe for her to do this?”
“I don’t think so. She needs to be better protected,” Boomer answe
red.
Samantha chimed in, “I’m surrounded by soldiers.”
Faolan added, “If Samantha needs protection, I stand always at the ready.”
Samantha gave Boomer a dirty look for not offering the same, but maybe he was right. The last thing the locals needed was to see her laptop and UNK005. In the current place and time, those items could be the start of legends or bring about accusations of witchcraft. She reluctantly said, “Maybe you’re both right. I’ll wait, but I do need some time alone to think. I can’t think around all these people.”
Boomer added, “You need to get used to being around people again.”
Faolan offered, “We can make camp before the sunset. There is a fine loch along the trail. The rocks will offer protection for our backs. Smaller nooks can give you some privacy, Samantha.”
“Good plan. The loch also gives the men a chance to bathe,” Jeff said.
“I see your smile, Samantha. The idea pleases you.”
She had just indulged in a fantasy of clean hair. Samantha only replied, “I like it.”
The area surrounding the loch all but stole her breath. The sun had beaten back the gray day, and fading sunlight filled the sky. While the loch was only fifty yards across and about forty yards wide, the water was so clear one could almost see to the bottom. On the north side, rocky outcroppings would indeed protect their backs. In all other directions the view was of the woods they had walked through. The only path visible was the one they had traveled.
While it may have surprised her men to find dinner cooking, Samantha and Jeff only smiled as they reached Kagen at the fire. Both inhaled the scent of roasting deer being cooked via a handmade spit. Faolan clasped his cousin’s shoulder and praised the efforts. Apparently, the other two men were still traveling with the sheep in hopes of making their pastures shortly after nightfall.
Time of the Draig Page 8
