The Phantom's Valor (Special Missions Unit Book 2)

by Gary Beller

  ***

  Ashlie and Ben took the train into the city the next morning, checking into their hotel. He had received confirmation from all the team members, and knew that they would all be at the hotel by noon. With that in mind, Ben booked the conference room on the hotel’s first floor for lunch, and ordered the catering.

  “Deep dish pizza?” Ashlie said, laughing.

  “Yeah, why not?” Ben asked.

  “You have a government expense account, you could have had ANY five star restaurant in the city cater this…and you chose to order pizza?”

  “I’ve been in these kinds of units long enough to know, caviar and top shelf champagne is nice for the prim and proper officers, but for people like us, hot pizza and cold beer works just fine.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” Ashlie laughed. Slowly the members of the team checked in and found their rooms, then came down to the conference room. John showed up at the same time as Kate, looking somewhat upset. Ben pulled him aside for a moment. “Talk to me kid, what’s wrong?”

  “Caryn. She broke up with me.” John said.

  “John, don’t take this the wrong way…but I knew this was going to happen.” Ben said.

  “Then why the hell did you let it happen? Shouldn’t you wave me off or something? Pull some fatherly magic out of your ass?”

  “I could have, sure. Maybe even should have. But would you have listened to me?” Ben asked him.

  “Are you fucking kidding? And miss three weeks with her?” John said.

  “And there, my son is why I didn’t. I knew what the outcome was going to be, but you needed those three weeks of fun. Even if I knew it would end like this.”

  “I understand.” John said. “But you’re still an asshole. Sir.”

  “It’s what they pay me for.” Ben said, slapping him on the back. Kate, Sid and Rob came up to him next. “Sir, all hands are present.” Sid told him.

  “And there was no accounting for their shenanigans during the three week furlough.” Kate said.

  “As long as they cleaned up after themselves, I’m okay with that.”

  Ben walked to the front of the conference room and called everyone to attention. “Good afternoon and welcome to Chicago.” Ben said.

  “Good afternoon, sir.” Everyone replied.

  “Take a seat. Just a few quick things to go over with you I talked to the President’s Social Events coordinator, she told me uniforms for tomorrow’s events will be dress blues. Also, the press will be there. If you are interviewed, you may give them your rank and first name, but do not divulge any classified information. You’ll all be receiving a “What not to say” sheet tomorrow. Any questions?”

  “Sir,” Wilkinson said, raising his hand, “What is this ceremony for?”

  “This ceremony is an awards ceremony. We will be receiving the presidential unit citation, and several high-level individual honors will be given out, including the Medal of Honor.”

  Everyone looked to each other, taking a moment to realize who had distinguished themselves enough to earn the Medal of Honor. It didn’t take long for everyone to realize it was Bielema. “So for today, go out, see the sites. I recommend the Shedd Aquarium and the Lincoln Park Zoo. I want everyone back here no later than twenty-three hundred…And Anyone who gets picked up by Chicago’s Finest on a Drunk and Disorderly is cleaning the staff head with a toothbrush once we get back to Leatherneck. Now, the pizza awaits.”

  Ben sat down with a slice of deep dish pizza alongside Sid, Rob and Kate. “So, has anyone been paying attention to the news while we’ve been on leave?”

  “I stopped. These clowns in the media, and their Armchair Generals just pissed me off.” Sid said.

  “Same. At least hire someone who has been there and knows what the bloody hell is going on. These ‘Military Scholars’ talk like they have a clue, but they really don’t.” Rob said.

  “I was kind of intrigued that the one actual military officer they had on Coalition Tonight spent an entire segment arguing with two professors from Cambridge that we need more generals like the Hardfighter brothers. Naturally the sensibilities of the professors were highly offended.” Kate said with a snicker.

  “I saw that. The Harvard professor was equally annoyed. An ounce of in the field experience, and these guys would understand exactly why it is our generals fight the way they do.” Sid said, shaking her head.

  “The one that got me was the guy who said General Westover should be court martialed and General Hardfighter along with him. They called Westover’s tactics ‘Excessively brutal’ and ‘needlessly wasting lives’.” Ben said.

  “You disagree, Colonel?” Sid asked.

  “Look, war is a scourge on the universe…no one denies that, even when it’s necessary. And on that same note, the lives lost in war are tragic. There are two ways you can fight a war: You can take a cautious, measured approach, or you can be daring, take risks, and be aggressive and brutal. I believe General Westover’s propensity for aggressive and risky battle tactics do contribute to 1st Brigade’s high casualty numbers, but they also win battles. Look at the Battle of Procyon III. The Banor had his brigade outnumbered three to one. He had five of six artillery batteries, plus 1st and 2nd Battalions from the 3rd Marine Regiment launch a frontal assault against the enemy. He took his remaining artillery battery, 3-3 and all of the 7th Marines, moved two kilometers west and slammed into them while they were trying to outflank Colonel Lindemann. He drew the enemy into a flank attack and spring a trap on them. Yes, Colonel Lindemann’s regiment took a hell of a beating, but had he tried to defeat the enemy conventionally he wouldn’t have had a chance. And the bayonet charge he led personally sealed the deal.” Ben explained.

  “He led that charge himself?” Rob asked.

  “He always does. He leads from the front, every time. 1st Brigade takes higher casualties than any other brigade in the coalition armed forces, but Marines are ALWAYS volunteering to serve with the 3rd and 7th Marine Regiments. Why? Because they know their General will lead them from the front every time.”

  “And here I thought Generals sat in command posts and drank coffee while the grunts did the work.” Sid laughed.

  “Not in Praxis’ Corps. Praxis has a bit of an unfair reputation to newer Marines within the Corps as a desk jockey, but I talked to Colonel Williams before we rotated home. In three landings they made during their last expedition, anyone know where Praxis set up his command post?” Ben asked.

  “No clue, Sir.” Kate said.

  “In the Gun mount on his quarter-ton. He manned the M12, while giving orders to his driver and his radio crew in the crew compartment. Rumor has it he even provided covering fire personally for Alpha 1-7.”

  “We got some real Generals in this Corps don’t we, sir?” Rob asked.

  “Damned right we do.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The next morning, Ben looked himself over in the mirror. He was never big on formal occasions, and although he was proud of his uniform, he never felt truly comfortable in the Dress Blue. His Special Warfare Qualification badge sat high on his left breast, topping off awards earned in what felt like a lifetime of service. Among his many campaign and service medals, he had been awarded both the Silver and Bronze Starburst Medals, with “V” devices for valor. They were the third and fourth highest awards, respectively, given for combat actions. Also, the Purple Heart medal with two stars device indicating a total of three awards for being wounded in action tended to draw eyes. On his right breast, he wore The Marine Corps Field Command emblem. On his shoulder epaulets, the two gold diamonds that identified him as a Lieutenant Colonel shined in the light of the hotel room.

  Ben joined his unit in the lobby waiting for the bus that would take them to the Presidential Mansion. Among the assembled team, Ben, Sid and Rob stood out as officers. Their dress uniforms were of the same cut and style as enlisted uniforms, though without the red trim on the jacket, and with a white belt instead of black. The officers wore their rank
devices on their epaulets, a single diamond for Major Dawn, and three gold bars for Captain Grimes. The Marine NCOs wore their rank insignias sewn onto both sleeves, gold chevrons and rockers on a red background, with crossed rifles for everyone except Kate, who had a gold diamond in the space between her three upward facing chevrons and three rockers below. That difference alone distinguished her insignia from that of Master Sergeant Gene West, whose insignia bore the crossed rifles. All the NCOs had three upward facing chevrons. Sergeants had no rockers below; Staff Sergeants had a single rocker, and Gunnery Sergeants two.

  Ashlie Adams and Geoff Mason wore their distinctive white Navy dress uniforms. Ashlie’s uniform was the traditional Naval jumper, with her medals and ribbons over her left breast, and her insignia of three downward pointed chevrons and a stylized “spread eagle” over the top. Between the Chevrons and Eagle, a red caduceus insignia identified her as a Hospital Corpsman.

  Chief Mason’s uniform was a white version of the Marine uniform, without the belt. Where the Marines had the Corps device of Eagle, Galaxy, and Anchor, Chief Mason wore a gold fouled anchor, with silver letters “CISN” superimposed over the center of the anchor that identified his rank as Chief Petty Officer.

  The bus ride to the Presidential mansion, situated near Grant Park along the lake front, took only a few moments. Two cruisers from the Chicago Police Department escorted them through traffic, and the bus stopped near the VIP receiving area. Ben stepped out first, and ordered everyone into formation, covers on, and had Gene West holding the units’ Guidon.

  The President’s social events coordinator, Miss Hailey Weatherfield, approached and stopped in front of Ben. “Colonel, please follow me.” She said. Ben had Sid and Rob fall in at the head of the two columns, with Gene just ahead of Rob, carrying the Guidon, and Ben marched the unit behind Ms. Weatherfield. They arrived on the east lawn, overlooking Lake Michigan, where seats had been set up and a stage was in place. An honor guard was waiting patiently at the edges of the seating area, comprised of members of the coalition’s three services: Army, Navy, and Marine Corps. Ben saw several senior officers whom he did not recognize. Many of them, Army and Marines, wore either three diamonds on their shoulders signifying the rank of Colonel, gold shoulder boards with varying numbers of stars. There was also a contingent of Navy Captains and Admirals present,

  Ben did recognize the Chiefs of Staff, standing on the stage talking amongst themselves. Chairman of the Joint Chiefs: Army Field Marshal Erick Von Stueben; Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Fleet Admiral Karla Norquist; Field Marshal David Patton, Chief of Staff of the Army; Fleet Admiral Yao Choy, Chief of Naval Operations, and Commandant-General William W. Williams, III, Commandant of the Marine Corps and father of Ben’s close friend and academy classmate, Colonel William W. Williams, IV.

  Commandant Williams excused himself and approached Ben. “Good morning, Phantoms!” The Commandant announced as he approached.

  “Good Morning, Sir!” Everyone yelled in response. All eyes were now on them. Ben stepped forward, and saluted. “Sir, 1st Special Missions Unit Reporting as ordered, Sir.”

  The Commandant returned Ben’s salute. “As you were, Phantoms. I am honored to welcome you all to Chicago, on behalf of President Miller and the Joint Chiefs. It’s not often a unit such as yours gets to step out of the shadows and into the spotlight. Today you men and women represent not only your unit, but your sister units among the Joint Special Operations Command. You are also representing the entire Coalition Navy and Marine Corps team, and for that honor I could not have selected a finer unit.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Ben said.

  “Follow me, and I will show you to your seats.” The Commandant said, leading them down the left of the two aisles. Four seats in the front row were reserved, with name cards on them: Carla, Sarah, Hannah and Rachel Bielema. The Phantoms would sit to the left and right, and behind the Bielema family. Each seat had a name card on it, denoting where each member of the team would sit. Geoff and Ashlie sat directly behind Carla and Rachel, while John sat behind Ben. Ben and Sid sat on opposite sides of the family, with Kate next to Ben and Rob next to Sid. Slowly, dignitaries filed in and took their seats. In the left section of seats were members of the executive and judicial branch of the government, and to the right sat high ranking legislators. Filling in behind the Phantoms were the various military officers Ben had seen milling about. The press began arriving, setting up around the edges. Ben looked at the stage and saw there were five chairs for the Joint Chiefs of Staff to one side, and another five to the other side. He also noticed behind him that some of the officers weren’t human.

  Although appearing roughly humanoid, the Valderans stood out from the crowd with their colorful uniforms, as well as their distinctive facial features: they had horns in place of eyebrows, as well as on the bridges of their noses. Two horned ridges ran from between their eyes up their foreheads and outward, and their cheek bones came down to form protective plates over the sides of their jaws, giving their faces the look of having hard jowls. “Why are the Valderans here?” Sid asked.

  “I don’t know, but we will soon find out.” Ben said. The President’s chief of staff had stepped to the podium. “Everyone please rise for our guests of honor.” He said.

  Commandant Williams was again at the back of the seating area, escorting Carla. Sarah stood next to her mother, while Rachel, in her Academy dress uniform, carried Hannah. The Commandant escorted the family to their seats, then returned to the stage. “Please remain standing everyone.” The Chief of Staff said.

  A boatswain piped from next to the stage, and announced loudly, “Now presenting, His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Krajur of Valderis. Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Yuliette of Valderis, and his Royal Highness, Prince Jarul Fignarigto, Major General of Starfighters, of Valderis.”

  The Valderan Imperial anthem played through speakers set up near the stage as the royals approached. The Military personnel rendered salutes as they passed, which was returned. Ben remarked at the height of the Emperor, standing nearly 7 feet tall.

  As they took their seats, the boatswain piped again. “Now Presenting, the Vice President of the United Coalition of Independent Systems, the Honorable Amie Myer.” The Vice President walked through, returning salutes and shaking hands as she approached the stage. She bowed to the Royals, before taking her seat.

  The Boatswain piped a third and final time. “Now presenting, the President of the United Coalition of Independent Systems, the Honorable Frederick Miller” As the President came down the aisle, the presidential fanfare began playing.

  The President took the podium. “Everyone please remain standing for the playing of the Coalition National Anthem and the presentation of colors by our tri-service color guard.”

  To the left of the stage, the conductor of the Marine Band that had slipped quietly in gave the signal, and they began playing the dramatic tune, while the Color Guard marched in from the left. All the military personnel, as well as the three royal family members, gave salutes. Following the anthem, the Color Guard posted the colors, and retreated.

  “Good morning,” President Miller began, “And welcome. We come together here today to pay tribute and give honor to members of the Coalition Marine Corps who have served their nation and the cause of freedom and liberty so gallantly during this war. I am honored to be joined today by the Emperor and Empress of Valderis, as well as Prince Jarul.” He began.

  “Four weeks ago, Members of the Coalition Marine Corps’ Special Operations Command, along with Valderan Royal Marine Corps Commandos, assaulted and liberated a prisoner of war camp behind enemy lines. The daring assault, made with support of fleet units from both the Coalition and Valderan Navies, was an unqualified success. Prisoners of War from various allied nations were liberated and returned home, among them His Royal Highness Prince Jarul.”

  The crowd gave a round of applause for the prince, who stood and waved. The President continued, “The mission was a defining m
oment for our forces: It showed the Banor that we and our allies could strike where and when we wanted, and in such force as to overwhelm any defenses. For our fighting men and women, and in particular the Operators of Special Operations Command, no target is out of reach, no mission is too difficult, and we leave no one behind.” Again the crowd gave applause.

  “Sadly, as with any military operation, there comes great risk to those who undertake such gallant feats. The Marines and Navy Corpsmen of 1st Special Missions Unit know this all too well. Over the course of the war, thirteen Operators from this unit have given the last full measure of devotion to their nation, to their cause, and to their brothers and sisters in arms. The Phantoms, as they are called, are a small unit. At full strength, they number just twenty four Operators, but size is no measure of their ability.”

  The President paused a moment, and looked into Carla’s eyes. “Today we are also joined by the Bielema family: Carla, Sarah, Hannah, and Midshipman Rachel Bielema. Carla’s husband, the father of Sarah and Hannah, brother of Rachel, Gunnery Sergeant Kevin Bielema served as an Assault Weapons Gunner with 1st Special Missions Unit. During the raid to liberate the Prisoners of War, Gunnery Sergeant Bielema displayed courage and heroism above and beyond the call of duty, as was his trademark on the battlefield. We are here today to honor Gunnery Sergeant Bielema’s courage and gallantry, and his courageous actions that day. Carla, Rachel, Sarah, Hannah, please join me on stage.”

  The four of them came up to the stage, where a picture of Kevin was raised above the heads of those on it. “Gunnery Sergeant Bielema gave his life that day, in that prisoner of war camp, throwing himself upon a grenade intended to kill or injure members of his team. To you, his family, I extend my deepest condolences on your loss. There is no repaying the debt owed to you and the rest of your family for the sacrifice you and Kevin have made on our behalf. I do, however, have a final award to present to you for Kevin.”