5
June 21st.
Lawrence Henderson:
“I am not comfortable with this at all.”
I’m thinking that’s what’s going to wind up engraved on Colonel Richard’s tombstone.
“What part?” I have to ask. It’s just baiting, He’ll say “the whole thing” or some variant of it.
His face on the screen looks more than usually indignant. But then I expected he’d demand this conference as soon as he got the news.
“I had enough issue with the first sham commission you gave him.”
No complaints at all during the last six livefires: Six fast retaliatory strikes on assorted bombers and hit-and-run attackers in four different Coalition or allied (“allied”, not occupied) territories—thirteen confirmed-target terminations, fifteen captures, zero team casualties, zero collateral casualties. He even kept his opinions to himself despite four very theatrical and arguably gratuitous appearances by the now-legendary Grayman (who is quickly becoming the iconic herald of the Tactical fury of the SENTAR Corporation—they should have him do the commercials in costume).
But pin a small piece of brass on an outstanding player’s uniform and send him out in public, and you get a righteous fit.
“The man is an experiment, Colonel,” Collins tries to soothe it, “and, in many ways, a necessary one. Now even I still don’t sit here entirely confident that this new training program can match the same quality as the tried-and-true methods, but so far I haven’t seen anything negative in the results, especially with Major Ram—whom I fully admit I was the least confident about going into this thing. But half-a-dozen flawless missions later, I consider him a definite asset.”
“I wouldn’t make quite that same assessment, General,” Richards takes his opportunity to dump. “He hesitated in Berlin. And he pushed it in Baghdad. I’m not comfortable with his stability.”
Collins hesitates, so I go ahead and drop it on him.
“He was supposed to hesitate in Berlin.”
He raises his eyebrows at me like he does.
“You still see Ram as what he was when you collected him,” I lay it out. “But
if he was the same man, he would have made a meat puppet out of Hatif. Imagine what he would have done in Baghdad: I have to say I’m surprised he didn’t make that old man eat that vest.”
“So you’re telling me Datascan is picking missions specifically for Ram?” He looks at us like we’re insane.
“You’re not the only one with ongoing misgivings about Ram,” I allow. “Datascan is aware of that. The missions also serve as a continuation of the evaluations we put him through in VR—it will be the same for all of our candidates: we’ll need to see how they respond in live ops. And Ram is doing just fine.”
Richards does his usual and looks like he’s trying to get a grip on reality and not choke on it.
“You made him a captain after only a month of so-called training,” Richards grumbles, laying it out on the table. “Now this. And you’re actually going to send him out in the real world with those clusters, like they mean something. And he’s going to be our forward-face…”
“The rank is commensurate with the increase in responsibility, Colonel,” Collins defends. “And frankly, I think he’s earned it. We’ve seen him under fire, and we’ve seen him as a leader, and we’ve seen his ability at public speaking—the trainings he’s created and run for our recruits are among the best I’ve ever seen. Yes: He’s got an attitude, but he seems to keep it in line—a damn sight better than some of your other divas.”
Richards seems to tighten up even more at the reminder that the likes of Major Burke are actually his men.
“The bottom line remains,” I refocus on the practical. “We’re in need of a thousand dedicated bodies—not including supports—before we can start proposed operations. We have less than ten percent of that, assuming none of the current Tactical candidates wash out or drop out. We can’t rely on what’s being thrown our way. We have to get actively recruiting, which means we need someone who can grab hold of a crowd and sell this to the skeptical. Ram is far-and-away your best choice.”
“The Security Council is already digesting our proposal,” Miller pushes. “We need to impress them that this is the right thing to do, but we also need to impress them that we can do this.”
“And if the UN won’t buy it?” Richards confronts.
“Then assets are assets,” I go with worst-case like it’s nothing to worry about. “The usable candidates get farmed to existing units, where they’ll share their experiences, prove their training. Our corporate backers will change their marketing strategies, re-task their products to suit more conventional forces, sell the potential in the field over time. It’s just a slower path up the same mountain. Another few years and we’ll be back here, even stronger.”
“Colonel,” Miller jumps in to play diplomat, “you are commanding officer of record for this phase of the project. Given that position, we didn’t feel it appropriate to send you out stumping the bases. Plus, we need it to be an experienced Line Tactical, one who’s ground through the training and made it work in live ops, and has the personality to sell it. Given your limited options, you’d rather we send Major Burke? Or Major Manning?”
That hurt. But he knows that’s the way it is.
“We can’t spare Burke or Manning right now,” Collins gives him a way out. “We need them for ops, and we need them at Langley to get their growing Companies in line.” And then, apparently feeling like he needs to do some soothing: “I know you feel like we’ve stuck you with an unmanageable gang of hotdogs, Tom. But they’ve done well at this. Hell, I wasn’t sure Burke was salvageable, but now he’s actually acting like a CO. Frankly, I’m impressed with this whole unit. You should be, too.”
Richards stares for a moment like he’s been given a terminal diagnosis, then gives in with a slight nod. It looks like it hurts him to do so.
“Yes, General.”
Grayman Book One: Acts of War Page 52
