Tasmanian SFG, Book II: Devils to Me (Tasmanian series 2)

by C. R. Daems

  "If you see one, kill it. They usually don't bite unless aggravated," I said.

  "Does that honey attract poisonous spiders?" Medina asked as we began walking to the next site.

  "No. It attracts bugs. It's Jolie planting a thought that will grow over time as the bugs show up," Simons said. "I just hope a few of these candidates can survive her. She's a master at creating fear when there is nothing to fear."

  In the end, eleven candidates passed the interrogation exercise, although several later admitted they would have cracked if the test had gone on for an hour or two longer.

  * * *

  The next week, we began fighting with emphasis on techniques that kill or cripple. Three days into the training, I stopped Todd, Mamba, from calling out the names of the next two individuals to fight.

  "Sergeant Bradley, your candidates look bored. My mother could win against any one of them," I said, shaking my head in disgust.

  "Want to show us, Chief?" Todd asked, looking worried.

  "Sure," I said walking into the ring.

  As I did, Todd called out 'Willis' and smiled. Willis was average for a Tasmanian, which meant he was twelve centimeters taller and a good thirty kilograms heavier than me. I put on my best look of concern as I looked back at Todd, who shrugged. Willis was trying hard not to laugh as Todd gave the signal to start. Willis began with a front kick to my chest, which I sidestepped as my right arm swept under his leg and push upward as I moved into him. He fell backward and rolled to a standing position looking mad. I made no effort to pursue him when he fell. He approached looking red with rage and threw a right punch at my face. I blocked it with my right arm as I twisted right to change my profile. He had anticipated the move and spun left. His left arm was a blur as his fist shot toward my left temple. But as he had begun to rotate, I dropped down on my right leg and swept his legs out from under him. His momentum spun him in midair and he hit the ground face first. Before he could move, I kicked him in the head.

  "The Chief Master Sergeant has just taught you a lesson that could save your life someday. Never assume your height, or weight, or sex gives you the advantage, and never assume you know more than your opponent does, and never, never get mad when you fight. It makes you careless." Todd smiled at me. "Thank you, Chief."

  "Glad to help."

  * * *

  "Jolie, I'm exhausted just watching," Medina said beginning the fourth week of the second month. "They have been going nonstop for seven days with only three to four hours’ sleep each night."

  "They have seven more days of the same. The object is to see their performance and judgement when they have been pushed beyond human endurance," I said, watching the nine remaining candidates stagger out of the barracks. This is what makes us Tasmanians. It's standing side-by-side with your brothers after days of nonstop fighting, out of ammo with only a knife, surrounded and outnumbered, and knowing your brothers will be standing with you as long as they are alive, and that the enemy will surrender before you and your brothers do. It's not hype, Cathy. I've been there and felt it. It's real."

  * * *

  "Well, Fox, what did you think about running the Tasmanian Qualification course?" Simons asked after the ceremony for the eight new Tasmanians.

  "Interesting. It gave me a better understanding of why the course is structured the way it is and the intended purpose," I said.

  "Why did you dismiss Willis and George? I thought they had performed well," Simons asked. It was a good question since I also thought they had performed well.

  "They did. I had doubts about their mental attitudes. I wouldn't have felt comfortable with them guarding my back," I said, although I wasn’t sure that was a valid reason. I had checked with my team, but no one had a strong feeling either way.

  "It was your call to make, Jolie. Although we can use all the Tasmanians we can get, in the end, we need a very special breed of individual if we are to remain unique." He laughed. "I'm glad it was your call. I'm not sure what I would have done, but I believe you made the right decision."

  * * *

  "I hear you're replacing the chief to run the Tasmanian Qualification course," someone said as I walked into the entertainment and dining part of the Tasmanian club, aptly named the Devil's Lounge.

  "I hope not. They will all fail the interrogation exercise," someone quipped.

  "And no one will pass if they have to match her qualification criteria," someone else added.

  "I heard the final test was beating her in a knife fight," another voice said.

  I held up my hands for quiet. "I'm suggesting that all of you should have to requalify. I'm tired of all the things I have to do to make you wimps look good," I said as I joined a table with several of my Ghost Platoon.

  "The audience isn't too far from wrong. You did pull some stunts out there, like with the honey. There are three candidates tied to a tree. Jolie walks to Jafar and whispers something and then continues over to the candidates, where she pulls out a tube of honey and starts brushing it on their exposed skin," Todd said, smiling. "Then Jafar mentions the honey attracts tiny poisonous black spiders. And she has this so-what attitude and says Well, knock them off if you see one. Their faces went snow white."

  "I liked the twenty-five-meter knife throw and then the Oh, you'll need to be able to do that to qualify jibe afterward," Van said. "I swear there were candidates there practicing every night for weeks."

  "One thing’s for sure, the eight Fox qualified are solid Tasmanian metal," Pete said, raising his mug to me.

  "Jafar was a good pick, Smitty. I like him," I said to change the topic. I’d had several workouts with him and knew he’d be a good man to have at my back.

  "Yes. He's usually one of the first men picked for an assignment. He's quiet but a very good scout, sniper, and knife fighter, and he’s well liked. He will have no trouble fitting in. And he liked your sense of humor."

  "That makes him crazy enough to be a Ghost," Pete said to nodding heads.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Planet Delphi: Wanzhou: Another Tasmanian Assignment

  "Jolie, you indicated that your platoon was functional and ready to take another assignment," Howard said more as a question than a statement of fact. He had assembled three men, two I knew: Tang and Sadler.

  "Yes, Howard. We have had our post-assignment leave and are fully operational," I said, as anxious as my team for an assignment. "What's the assignment?"

  "It's strictly a Tasmanian operation. The countries of Redmier and Blackspar both claim the rights to the island Bystone, which lies approximately equidistant between the two states. They have been fighting over Bystone for centuries, and over the years, each has occupied and mined the island for its minerals. Recently, very rare minerals have been discovered and both countries are threatening a war, which has the potential to poison the planet's atmosphere, and it has forced Delphi to intercede. Although both countries have agreed, Redmier has an unknown number of miners currently on the island. Estimates range from two to five hundred, some number of which are military. Redmier claims the miners were told to cease operations but have refused. The problem is no one wants to bomb the island for obvious reasons, and combat shuttles are of limited value as the island has hundreds of interconnecting tunnels. So, the only way to get them to stop is to go in after them." Howard took a sip of water. "Once they are out, Delphi can negotiate an agreement between the two countries. Unfortunately, the miners and soldiers will have the overwhelming advantage, as they know the tunnels and we must take the fight to them."

  "And they can use explosives but we can't," I said after only a few seconds’ thought.

  "Luan, I'm Jerry Morfort, call sign Bull," the short stocky third man said. He had a square face, long wavy brown hair, and was frowning. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

  "Hi, Jerry. Because we don't know how much force the ceiling of each tunnel can withstand, nor the consequences of sealing off a tunnel. They do," I said. I wasn't looking forward to fighting
a war in tunnels and immediately typed my team a quick message.

  Ghosts, we will be working in tunnels. will need white and black lights, infrared detectors, frequency scanners, gas masks, night vision goggles, lots of flashbangs, and anything else you can think of. Fox.

  "Anything we can use, Jolie?" Howard asked as he watched me typing on my TCom. I shrugged and forwarded my text to him. He spent a minute reviewing my message, then nodded. "I've forwarded the Fox's text to her team to each of you. If you can think of any additional items, share it with the platoon leaders. We are going to need every advantage we can get."

  "That's an impressive list of options, sister," Sadler said, looking up from his TCom. The stories I hear is that you like to wander around. In tunnels, how is that going to be any different than what the rest of us will be doing?" He grinned.

  "Beats me, Ironman," I said using his call sign and shrugged. "I just follow the boys on my team. They do all the work and they give me all the credit, so they don't wind up with a squad to lead."

  "Her boys are the cream of the Tasmanians and clever to boot. They have a leader who is always in the thick of any engagement, and they can't be drafted as squad leaders because they are permanent members of her platoon." Tang laughed. "That's the definition of Tasmanian Heaven."

  "You each have five squads of eight men. We are taking one hundred and twenty men plus an eleven-man Ghost Platoon," Howard said. I opened my mouth to correct him, but he spoke before I could speak. "Jolie, your platoon is now a permanent ten-man unit, not counting their platoon leader. Sorry for the short notice, but I was just notified of the change by the committee. We leave in two days at six hundred hours."

  I sighed in resignation and began typing.

  Smitty, we need another man. The Ghost Platoon now has eleven permanent members. Obviously, no good deed goes unpunished. See who you and the boys would like off our waiting list. Luan.

  * * *

  I had just sat down with my breakfast tray when I saw Smitty walking toward me with a tall thin man with a bushy beard and an equally full head of dark brown hair and hairy arms.

  "Hi, Fox, this is Josh Ramos, our newest team member. He is another well recognized scout. His specialty is explosives, and his call sign is Tarantula," Smitty said nodding toward his companion. "Josh, this is, Jolie, the Fox, our Tasmanian sister and platoon leader."

  "Nice to finally meet you, Fox. I feel like I know you from all the stories I've heard over the years. And I was one of the first to answer your Devils to me call from the Fort Carlson detention center." He gave a derisive snort. "What cowards. There were weapons and bodies everywhere, and every one of those military police was twice your size. You certainly maintained our Tasmanian mystique. "

  "Why don't you get something to eat and join me?" I said, waving to the table. He nodded and walked off with Smitty toward the serving line to get a breakfast tray. I began eating as I waited, wondering about the new man. I could imagine his rage finding several men beating an unconscious, bleeding Tasmanian. Hearing their trays being set down on the table broke my musing.

  "Josh, I imagine you already know most of my team." I said, thinking him a long-time Tasmanian judging by his call sign.

  "Yes, we have all been with the Tasmanians for around ten years and have been on several assignments, and we have spent a lot of our free time together," Josh said.

  "Josh is better at explosives than me–" Smitty began but I interrupted him.

  "Then why do I have you?" I asked, frowning.

  "So, you can have someone to fetch and carry and punish for nearly killing you," Smitty said followed by a grin.

  "Welcome to the Ghost Platoon, Tarantula. We leave for Wanzhou tomorrow at eight hundred hours."

  * * *

  "Well, Fox, are you looking forward to this assignment?" someone shouted after we had selected bunks, stored our gear, and our transport was airborne.

  "Are you kidding?" I shouted and folded my arms across my chest. "Crawling round in holes like moles." I raised my hands face high, palms toward me with my finger curled so I could examine my fingernails. "Can you imagine what that is going to do to my nail polish? One hundred credits down the toilet." I turned my palms outward and walked around showing them to everyone. I had painted them with different colors and designs before coming on board. After I had showed everyone my handiwork, I returned to the center of the bay. "And what about my fricking tan? I'll look as white as last week's catch and stink fishy besides. And what about my hair with five kilos of dirt and beetles and worms feeding off my hair? I'll be bald by the time we emerge. Oh, you think that's funny?" I glared around the bay and almost lost my angry face hearing the laughing and seeing smiling faces. "And how am I going to concentrate with spiders and millipedes crawling up my sleeves and down into my pants?" I almost laughed at the looks on many faces as they envisioned bugs inside their uniforms. "So, I've told the boss man, no, no, no. I'm going to stay top-side while you boys flush them out for my team to shoot."

  "What did the boss man say to that?"

  "He agreed, since it gives him a good excuse to avoid those millipedes and spiders," I said and put on my happy face.

  "I suggest we get the pilot to turn this transport around and go back to Delphi," a baritone voice shouted. "I'm never going to get those images out of my head."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Planet Delphi: Wanzhou: Tunnels

  We landed on Blackspar. Howard felt we needed a briefing about the island, its tunnels, and terrain before being taken to Bystone. Naturally, I had attended the briefing along with the real platoon leaders.

  Mr. Ashby, the senior Blackspar military officer and a four-star general, said, "Bystone was at some point in the distant pass covered with water, as was a large part of Redmier and Blackspar. When the water receded, it had sculptured the land. Much of the land was relatively flat surrounded by small mountains. The mines used to have access directly from the surface, but constant wars over the last two hundred years had created a system of trenches for fighting and moving about. Over the past hundred years, the trenches had become tunnels and the only access into the mines. Today, there were trenches for the soldiers to fight from, but every trench led into a tunnel that was connected to multiple other tunnels. To my knowledge, no one had an up-to-date map of the tunnels or which ones led into any specific mine or which mines were currently active." He paused for questions.

  "How big is the island?" Tang asked, gazing at the map of Bystone, which was hanging from a wooden stand to the right of the general.

  "Approximately eight-point-one kilometers at its widest point and sixteen kilometers long. The mountains comprise about forty-nine percent of the landscape."

  "How are they being supplied?" Howard asked, while nibbling at his lower lip.

  "They claim they aren't sending them any supplies, neither food nor ammo." Ashby gave a short sniff in obvious disbelief. "Supplies are generally delivered by shuttle, but as they know we're watching, it would be by boat or submarine. But even if they aren't, I'd wager they sent a three-month supply when they knew the situation would eventually be resolved through negotiation."

  "How many soldiers?" Morfort asked.

  "A company between one hundred fifty and two hundred.

  "And miners?" Morfort again, eyes squeezed nearly tight in thought.

  "Two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty."

  "Are they armed, and will they fight?" Sadler asked.

  "They will have weapons available but aren't army and aren't likely to fight, although they may help to impede your progress. Redmier expects to lose but hopes to get a month or two of product before they have to stop mining operations," Ashly said.

  "How heavy would be the finished product from a day's mining?" I asked, and all eyes turned toward me.

  "They are heavy metals and will be unrefined, so approximately one to two hundred kilo."

  * * *

  "I don't normally like to split up the company, but in this
case, I think that's the best strategy. We can cover more and we're unlikely to run into the entire Redmier company unless they are mining only one mine. And even then, forty Tasmanians should be able to keep them in check until the other platoons arrive. The object is to neutralize the army, and then the miners should surrender, if what Ashly said is true," Howard said, after we had landed on Bystone and he had collected his platoon leaders. "So, the faster we locate the soldiers, the faster we can go home, which will be a good thing because I'm having trouble getting Jolie's image of crawling through the tunnels out of my mind." He gave a strangled laugh. "Sadler, your platoon is number one. You will scout the terrain to the west. Morfort, your platoon is number two. You will scout the terrain to the east, and Tang, you're three and will take the terrain between platoons one and two." Howard waited for each man to nod before continuing. "And what do you plan to do, platoon leader four?"

  "Since you've given all the prime territory to the other platoon leaders, I thought I see if I could find a tunnel to wander around in," I said with a sigh, and smiled to myself, remembering how nervous I had been when speaking to squad leaders when I first became a Tasmanian when Howard was a company leader. I gave secret thanks to Simons for having faith in me and for allowing me to pass the qualification school. Because in the end, Simons determined if you passed or not.

  "I thought you were worried about spiders and millipedes," he said and waited with the others for my reply.

  "No, my position is at the end of the line, so they will have found all those nasty little creatures before I get there," I quipped, turned, and headed for my team. As I walked away, I heard Tang speak.

  "That exemplifies et anima una like nothing else could. She walks off to the space gods only know where, with no orders or direction, and we think it's normal."

  I heard a chorus of "Taarah."

  * * *

  "Where to, Fox?" Smitty asked when my team had gathered around me.