Not Dead Yet

by Dennis Young

  Talice nodded, then pulled on her camis. “Let’s have a meal together before you head back to Northland Base. I’d love to talk to you about real life.”

  “Hey, this is as real as it gets, lady.” Babs laughed. After a moment, Talice chuckled as well.

  “Dinner tomorrow night, 2000 Hours. No excuses. Now I gotta go watch the team sweat. And Mac.” Talice stopped. “Have you talked to her?”

  “She’s my next appointment. How’s she doing?”

  “You ask her, then we’ll compare notes.”

  Babs nodded. “Fair enough. That will give us some dinner conversation.”

  Talice sighed. “Don’t you ever stop with the doctor stuff?”

  Babs smiled invitingly. “Sure, but you’re not available.”

  Talice paused before she spoke again. “Well, if I was, you’d be the first to know.”

  * * *

  Two days on, and Fawkes and Babs lifted in one of the turbocopters, headed back to Northland Base. The rifle platoon took up residence in a separate barracks. The sergeant in charge, Jarvis Jones — a comic book name if there ever was one — quickly became acquainted with Talice and Mac. Especially Mac.

  Sergeants are like that, Talice thought, as she watched the pair trading stories one night at dinner. Good for Mac. I know sometimes I’m too much of a burden, and maybe this will help her with her own issues. She chuckled to herself. Since I’m a former officer, he avoids me like the proverbial plague.

  Jones was a few years younger than Mac, of mixed heritage no one could really identify, and he never discussed. He was a Staff Sergeant, respected by his platoon and by Fawkes himself. Mac had a million stories to share with him, and he seemed to enjoy the time they spent together. Talice watched for a moment, wondering if this might be the start of something… more.

  We’re moving away from this life. I can feel it. Hell, I can see it before my eyes. And I don’t know what to do.

  Talice made her way out, once more walking down the darkened runway alone. She found herself headed for the PT Center, and simply to clear her mind, changed into her workout garb and began a standard set of upper body exercises.

  Time passed. Before an hour was over, she was drenched with sweat. She retreated to the dressing room and downed a bottle of S-H from her locker, showered quickly, and pulled on fresh camis. Sat. Thinking.

  Fawkes wants us to go after political enemies, so to speak. The politicians have come after him now, all because the elections are coming up. I can see the lines forming. Damn politicians have the Marines in a box. Either Fawkes does their bidding, or they make a stink about our use of the training base. Maybe ruin Fawkes’s career. I know he said it’s not gonna happen, but these people don’t play by the same rules we do. And they hold the purse strings.

  She exited, headed back for the mess hall. Several of the team were still there, along with a few off-duty Marines, and Mac. And Jones. Talice caught Mac’s eye, and moved quickly to join them.

  “I was just telling Sergeant Jones about your little escapade with Jance.” Mac scooched over as Talice took a seat beside her.

  “Which one? The one where she almost killed me with AP rounds, or the time she tried to drop a building on me?”

  Jones gave her a serious look. “What did you do to piss this woman off, Captain?”

  Talice smiled, that Jones would use her former Marine rank. “If I knew that, maybe I’d sleep better at night. Sometimes we become the focus of anger, when the person carrying that anger has no real target to focus on. We get chosen at random, or for perceived transgressions. That’s what my psych-analyst says, anyway.”

  “I’m sure you’ve spent more time than you want trying to figure it out. Have you thought about simply moving past it?” Jones leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching Talice’s face.

  “Sure. But maybe I use her anger to focus on myself. Maybe it’s what helps keep me going.”

  “Talice has other concerns,” said Mac gently. “The team, the missions, our transportation in the form of Bird One, outside contacts… all the stuff any commanding officer has to think about. Her plate is pretty full, and Jance right now is far down the list of importance.”

  “What’s your story, Sergeant?” Talice returned Jones’s stare. “You here for the duration? Our lease isn’t up for a year or so.”

  Jones shrugged. “Our platoon is the first of several who will be coming to the training center. I’m sure Colonel Fawkes briefed you.”

  Talice nodded. “Politics. Yeah, we’ve been apprised.” Laughter crossed the room from the corner table. “Look, I need to socialize with my team a bit. I’ve been pushing them pretty hard, and I need to show them some love. We can talk politics some other time.”

  Or maybe never, Talice thought, as she rose and threaded her way between seated groups.

  She took a chair next to Jian. Rory and Briggs were in animated conversation with three fresh-faced Privates and a very young female Lance Corporal. Sparing no gritty details. Or language. Blood and guts and running for your life stuff. Talice grinned. Jian caught her look. Stoic Ollie, sitting in the corner listening, caught her eye and shook his head. Talice’s grin widened.

  She stayed for an hour before excusing herself, after reminding the table that Lights Out had passed thirty minutes earlier. And they were all due in the gym at 0900.

  * * *

  Talice woke with a plan. Where the hell did that come from?

  She changed her patch, dressed quickly, noting she’d not set her alarm, overslept, and apparently forgotten to undress before bed. And I know I didn’t drink last night. Was I just that tired?

  She headed for the mess hall, realizing she was really, really hungry. Entered, looked for Mac, and saw her with Briggs and Rory, drinking coffee. Talice filled her tray and sat aside, waiting for the man-mountains to leave. Then moved to Mac’s table.

  “You look like hell this morning.” Mac glanced at Talice’s pallor.

  “Just weird… I overslept and I’m starving.” Talice ate quickly, then went for seconds. Returned and sat, then continued eating. At last, she pushed away the plate and emptied her tea cup.

  “Did Babs check you out when she was here?”

  Talice nodded. “Upped my dosage, too. Bugs aren’t getting enough attention, apparently.” She sat back, watching Mac watch her. “I know how we can do this.”

  Mac one-eyed Talice. “You’ve been thinking again. At least your brain is working well.”

  “Fawkes says it’s all political, right? So we capture these Nemesis elements and turn them over to the locals, to be charged with extortion. I did a little research.”

  Mac held Talice’s gaze for a long moment. “You realize if we did that, the names we gave Fawkes would come out in the open.”

  “Exactly. Fight politics with politics. If these guys want their names kept off the net news, force them to drop their concerns about the Base. And the Marines.”

  “You haven’t talked to anyone else about this?”

  “No, Mac. You’re the one to tell me it’s a dumb idea. I don’t let anyone else catch me on this stuff.”

  Mac leaned back in her hoverchair. “It’s not dumb, but it’s dangerous. In several ways. First, it assumes we can capture these people at all. We’d need intel.”

  “Of course. That’s what the Marines are for, right?” Talice grinned.

  “Second, would turning them over to the local authorities be the right move? Why not to the Marines? Let them take the credit. We don’t need or want any publicity.”

  Talice considered. “Good point. Yeah, I can agree with that.”

  “Third, and most important… capturing people alive is a lot more difficult and dangerous. It takes a different mentality on our part, and once the bad guys know we’re after them alive, changes their plans, too. What if they don’t want to face charges? Can they escape? Or would they have the guts to kill themselves to avoid it? Might they try to capture some of us, or otherwise use hostages to kee
p us at bay?” Mac paused as Talice nodded. “Whole different game, Princess.”

  Talice waited for a moment before she continued. “I haven’t heard you say we can’t do it.”

  Mac shrugged. “The team will have to be sharper than ever. We’ve never done anything like this. And there’s no guarantee Fawkes or Command would go along with it. Politicians don’t play by any rules available to you and me.”

  Talice grimaced, nodding. “What options do we have, Mac? We’re not assassins.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “… No.” Talice’s eyes focused away. “But… what if this has a darker purpose? What if part of this is to discredit us? We know there aren’t many merc teams around anymore. Hell, we may be the only one left.”

  “The only one of any consequence, that’s for sure.” Mac pursed her lips, thinking. “It’s a possibility. Politicians are notorious for having hidden agenda.”

  They sat for a few minutes in silence. “What about the team,” asked Mac. “Think they’ll go for it?”

  Talice mused. “Briggs and Rory, sure. Dosu, he’s a good follower, and shouldn’t have a problem. Ollie, the same.” She thought some more. “Niky and Bělinka, I don’t know. As long as we keep them out of the furball, they’ll probably go for it.”

  “We still need a replacement for Martin. And what about Jian?” Mac eyed Talice carefully.

  “The replacement, I’m not sure of yet. Jian… I promise I won’t jump his bones during the mission.”

  They chuckled together.

  Talice drained the last drops of her tea. “We need another opinion. We need to visit an old friend.”

  Mac gave her a sideways look. “Scarbach? We haven’t graced his presence for almost a year, have we? Think he’d be happy to see us?”

  “Terrified.” Talice laughed. “Could be fun. Let’s get through today, then hop the metrolink to Anchor Prime. Besides, I wanna go back to that little Thai place you like so much. I wanna watch you cry into your Tom Yum soup again.”

  They laughed, enjoying the sensation of making a plan together.

  * * *

  Anchor Prime, and a Milestone…

  The team took three days off. The metrolink ride from the training base to Anchor Prime was restful. Two full hours that Talice and Mac could relax, away from the rigors of the gym routines and sweaty workout gear. Once they hit the walkways, they realized how different everything had been. The people. The groundcar traffic. The sounds and smells of a city.

  So much simpler back at Bergan-Okafor, thought Talice. So much more difficult, too. In other ways.

  It had been some time since Talice had been in her old apartment. Fortunately, the auto-cleaning system was still working, so the place was spotless and didn’t smell of stale air. She and Mac dropped their bags at the door, then sat at the table in semi-darkness, while rain pelted the windows.

  “Every time I come home, it’s raining.” Talice set out a pot of tea and cups. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the weather shield around the sundeck scattered light with the shock wave in the air.

  Mac eased up to the table and poured. “Think Scarbach will remember us?”

  Talice scoffed. “He’ll probably call building security. But we’ve got to find out what the underbelly of this really is. Fawkes knows more than he’s telling, which is nothing unusual, so we’re on our own to dig it out. I’m not taking this team into a glorified bug hunt without knowing the rest of the story.”

  “Speaking of bugs…”

  Talice nodded. “Yeah, I met with Babs. It’s under control. What about your legs? We still gotta get you walking.”

  “She said she wanted to see me take a step before she left.” Mac looked away. “Didn’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “It… hurts. My muscles are still like mush.”

  “So? Come on, Mac, we worked toward this for the last ten days. You’re ready. Babs told you it would hurt. Hell, it hurt when you lost your legs, didn’t it?”

  Mac gave Talice a hard look, then softened her face. “Like a mother. But this is different. I’m almost… remember when I dropped the dumbbell and it glance off my quad. I was afraid I’d ruined my left leg. So was Babs.”

  Talice held her breath for a moment before answering. “You didn’t tell me that. Neither did she.”

  “Yes, and now I’m afraid to do anything. I’ve got my legs again, and I don’t want to lose them.”

  “Mac, if you don’t use them, what good are they? Show me what you’ve got, lady. You’re tougher than a bruise. And if you don’t do it, you’ll never have your legs for all the good stuff.”

  “You mean like—”

  “I mean like walking down the street with me, or running a 5K, or just a stroll with friends around the harbor in Anchor Prime. So stop it. You’re a Marine. You’re tough. You can get through a little pain and suffering.” Talice grinned. “Do it. I want to see it. Now.”

  Mac’s lips drew a hard line, then she backed her hoverchair from the table and raised it a bit. Then stood, held out her arms, and smiled.

  Talice rose and took her hands. “Okay, that’s good. Now what?”

  “Don’t let go.” Mac looked into Talice’s eyes. “Step back a bit.”

  Talice shook her head. “Let’s do this right. Sit. In the living room.”

  Mac sat and eased her chair into the open area. Raised it again.

  Talice took her hands.

  Mac stood.

  Talice stepped back, still holding Mac’s hands.

  Mac closed her eyes and focused. Worked her jaw. Then again. Her right foot shuffled forward, just a bit.

  Talice squeezed Mac’s hands gently. “Good. Now the left.”

  Mac nodded. Then slowly moved her left foot forward, even with her right. Then lifted it and took a half-step.

  “Easy.” Talice steadied Mac. “Relax. Let your brain work. Remember, you’re a baby taking your first steps.”

  “This fuckin’ hurts. My balance isn’t worth shit.” Mac gritted her teeth and took another step.

  “Yeah, I know. You’ve gotta do it, Mac. And you can.”

  “Dammit, Talice, I’ve only been lifting five kilos, and that’s with both legs! I know Babs told you I wasn’t doing enough, but this is hard!”

  “Mac, there’s no one here except us. You don’t have to impress anyone. If you fall, you fall, and I’ll pick you up. But dammit, you’ve got to walk!”

  Mac nodded. Shuffled forward again. A whimper leaked between her teeth.

  “Good. Three steps, that’s great. Rest a minute, then three more.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding! No, you’re not, are you?” Sweat dotted Mac’s forehead and she lifted her right leg, moving forward. Then her left. Then her right once more.

  “Alright, just pause here. Just stand.” Talice lowered Mac’s hands, then slid around her and eased the hoverchair up behind her. Came back around and took Mac’s hands again. “Okay, now sit. Keep your glutes tight. Down. Down. You’re there.”

  Mac was trembling with fatigue. Talice dabbed her forehead with a paper towel. “Damn, lady. You did it. You are the walkin’ woman.”

  Mac leaned her head against Talice’s shoulder. Talice held her as she cried.

  * * *

  Scarbach’s office had changed in their absence. First, the decorations and furniture were much more upscale. Obviously, Scarbach’s business interests were doing well. Including that of Talice’s team. Second, there was a new woman at the front desk by the name of Joane. Sheila was nowhere seen.

  “Retired a while back,” said Joane. She was pretty, petite, and young. And dressed nearly like a school girl.

  “Scarbach’s showing his age,” muttered Mac, as they were buzzed into his office.

  The little weasel was there, at his desk, just setting down his phone. Talice noticed there were three handsets on the stand now, one in red, the others formal black.

  “Talice! Mac!” Scarbach didn’t move from h
is seat and kept both hands visible.

  Talice looked around the office. The chair in the corner was gone, replaced by a small conference table and six swivel chairs. She motioned Scarbach that direction, then Mac drifted up to one side, while Talice sat at the other.

  Scarbach took the chair between them. “I… wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “Or any other day, probably,” replied Talice. “We need some information. Politics this time.”

  Scarbach shrugged. “I’m not a politician, Talice. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but you know a lot of them. Like the two names you gave us a while back.”

  Scarbach’s brow furrowed, then he nodded. “Yes, they’ve been in the net news lately. Elections coming up and all that.”

  Talice took out her worn notebook and flipped the pages. “These names. Earnest Holmeyer and Jared Olsen, both city council members, long term. Holmeyer for twelve years, Olsen for sixteen.”

  Scarbach nodded again, saying nothing.

  “They both have business interests in Fourth Sector. As do you.”

  “We did a bit of digging,” said Mac. “Both of these men have interests in a bar we’re familiar with, The Bloody Tavern. And other dealings.”

  “I don’t know what this has to do with me—”

  Talice cut him off. “Then I’ll tell you. All of you deal in legal bordellos. You deal in sex. We found that out, too.”

  Scarbach scoffed. “You found out my horrible secret. My horrible, legal secret.”

  Talice leaned on the table toward Scarbach. “We need to know what else they’re into. Stuff not so legal.”

  “How would I know that?”

  “Because you just might be in on those things with them? Is that a concern?” asked Mac.

  Scarbach pushed his chair away from the table. “You people have no mercy, do you?”

  Talice scooted her chair closer. “Remember the hostage-takers that kidnapped your nephew Tooley and some of your friends? Remember Cowley, the trooper who got killed because your intel to us was bad? Remember Nemesis, who we’ve been fighting now for the last five years? Remember the deal we still have as partners?”