by C. R. Daems
They collectively turned pale and a minute later, one older man spoke. "It connects to a long tunnel that runs the length of the west side and has connections to each of the trenches, to the fifteen active and inactive mining shafts, and to two tunnels that run to the east side. It is relatively the same on the east side."
"Thank you," I said and typed a message to Howard.
Howard, we've found the place where the mined material is being shipped back to Redmier and food being delivered to the miners and soldiers. I plan to stay here until Redmier realizes the game is over unless you have something else for us to do. No rush, we have plenty of food. Luan.
Howard was quick to respond.
Luan, they will be sending soldiers to kill you. Howard.
I smiled as I typed.
Howard, they tried that. Cost them thirty-one soldiers plus some unknown number when they tripped an explosive device we set in one of their tunnels. Besides, no point now that we know the area they were using to smuggle the material. Luan.
* * *
The next day, Redmier agreed to join Blackspar for negotiations with Delphi as the arbitrator. Delphi agreed to build a processing and distribution center on Bystone and take twenty percent of the profits with Redmier and Blackspar splitting the remaining eighty percent. The negotiation went quickly as Delphi was funding the building of the facilities and had the resources to enforce peace.
We were on a transport home two days later. I had just finished packing my duffle when a shout rang out.
"Fox, we heard you managed to get the Redmier to the negotiating table all by yourself," an unfamiliar voice said.
I jumped out of the second-tier box, landing on the floor easily, and then began stomping as loudly as I could up and down the bay looking pissed and mumbling.
"My damn team has done it again," I shouted and spit. "I tell them I want to go to the other side of the mountains. They want to go crawling around in the tunnels hunting only the space gods know what. I don't care if they want to get dirt in their hair, under their finger nails, and in their shorts. I rather go where there is water where I can go for a refreshing swim and stay clean. I tell them there will be soldiers guarding the pass through the mountains that they can shoot. Finally, they agree. They griped and complained all the way across the pass when we didn't see one soldier. Bitch, bitch, and more bitching. Finally, after I have a swim and dry off in the sun, they want to explore the area. I agree to stop the whining. So, we begin heading north, and what the frigging hell do we find but a tunnel. And more whining. They all want to explore the tunnel. Imagine that! The damn thing looks like the entrance to an animal's den. By the size of the opening, it’s a very, very large animal. They're all gooey eyes, jumping up and down, and dragging me toward the gaping hole, shouting that our enemy is in the tunnel. What enemy, I ask. I'm not mad at anyone. I don't even know anyone on Wanzhou to be mad at. They insist we're being paid to evict the people in the tunnels. I just know there are people on the other side of that black hole who have guns with bullets with my name on them. So, I throw a grenade inside the tunnel and the ceiling caves in and makes it impossible to enter. No one will talk to me for hours. I go for another swim. Then Smitty tells me they want to continue north looking for another tunnel. I give in after hours of listening to all their stupid macho, glory-hungry reasons. You would almost think we were going to get a pay raise if we find people to shoot at us. I give in hoping they will stop begging and that my headache will go away. Damn if an hour later we don't find another tunnel. Thinking quick, I pitch another grenade into the opening while no one is looking. When everyone stops screaming at me, I tell them I saved their lives. There were fifty soldiers getting ready to charge us. They don't believe me, saying the tunnel is too dark for me to see. I tell them they had lights on their helmets so the tunnel was lit for as far back as I could see. Now they want to rush north, hoping to find another tunnel. Before I knew it, two men, one on each side, hoisted me up and carried me along at a double-time march. I kept shouting no, I'm your leader and I say no. But they were singing as they ran and claimed they couldn't hear me when they stopped to eat. Before I could think of some reason to stay put, I'm told thirty soldiers are coming toward us. I point toward the mountain thinking we could hide until they pass, but oh no, the boys had to let them know we were hiding in the boulders by shooting at them. When the shooting stopped and I peeked over the boulder I was behind, they had killed them all. I decided that was a good thing. Hopefully, they had gotten to shoot someone and maybe we could stay there—well, up the beach away from the dead bodies. And proving I was having a really bad day, we run into another tunnel with soldiers and men carrying bags to and from several boats. More shooting." I scowled at each box as I stomped around the bay. "And then my team stabbed me in the back. Multiple times. They told Howard it was my idea to search the shore line." I stomped from one end to the other. "So, everyone is happy…except me. Howard thinks I'm a great squad leader, my team's happy they are permanent members of a squad with a permanent squad leader. I tell you now…I'LL GET EVEN. I'll see every one in my team made a SQUAD LEADER."
I bowed when the clapping and cheering stopped. I love these idiots, I mused as I crawled into my box to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Planet Delphi: 504th TQE
"How do you do it, Jolie?" Howard asked a few days after my team finished its post-assignment vacation. I sat in his office drinking coffee. I wasn't sure I knew what he was referring to.
"What?"
"Wind up where the critical action is taking place," he said, as if I was supposed to know what he meant.
"I really do very little." I held up my hand when it looked like he was going to interrupt. "Smitty put together a team that is composed of what I have to assume is the cream of the Tasmanians. They only need a leader, so they don't have to make assignments. Other than that, they don't need me," I said knowing it was true.
"That's true. But I'm talking about deciding where to go," he said, refusing to let me off the hook.
"My true father's insistence that I always think about each task I was given, no matter how small. After a while, it became an automatic part of everything I did. So, when you give me an assignment, I first consider what you would like me to accomplish. I don't ever think it's to kill the enemy. It's more like find what will upset the enemy. Sometimes, it's obvious, but most of the time, it requires I wander around looking for opportunities."
Howard nodded. "Yes, Simons had it right from the beginning. Because of your father's training, you are more valuable wandering around than part of the main force. And the team Smitty has assembled for you certainly is the cream of the Tasmanians and requires little supervision, just being pointed in the right direction. You and them are a perfect match."
* * *
I had been assigned to participate in the upcoming 504th TQE or the five hundred and fourth Tasmanian Quarterly Exercise, which began one hundred and forty-six years ago. Apparently, eighty TQEs had been cancelled due to assignments and extenuating circumstances. The TQE was used to evaluate commanders, platoon and squad leaders, as well as individual members for future assignments. The TQE was designed to be as close to a real assignment as possible and ran continuously for seventy-two hours, with little or no opportunity to sleep.
I was assigned to the aggressors and would be shuttled to the starting position four hours after the defenders had left to set up their positions. Over three hundred fifty Tasmanians were taking part in the exercise: two companies each with one hundred and forty-eight troops: a commander plus three platoon leaders, each with eight six-man squads, and over fifty referees. According to my instructions, Simons was the commander of the aggressors, Company B, with Tang, Murphy, and Grant the platoon leaders. I was designated a squad leader for a team of five: Ryan, Ollie, Alfie, Max, and Sami with Tang my platoon leader. My designation was Company B, platoon 1, squad 5 or B15.
We arrived at six hundred hours and Tang immediatel
y called for a meeting of his squad leaders.
"Simons has decided to attack the right side of Company A with two platoons, hoping to overwhelm that section and force the other platoons to leave their fortified positions and generate general confusion. My platoon would be held in reserve to take advantage of any weakness that develops. Although we would like to defeat Company A, there was a secondary agenda that was the real goal of the exercise. They had a high-value prisoner in a house that company B must try to liberate. Tang smiled. "Simons said that since we were lucky to get Fox in Company B, it's your squad's primary responsibility."
"Sounds like fun, Platoon leader Tang," I said and smiled. Tang pulled out a map and pointed out where Simons planned to begin his attack, where Tang was to be held in reserve, and where Company A's headquarters was located and the prisoner was being held. I sat to think about my options. When I opened my eyes, thinking it had only been a few minutes, the area was clear except for five men I had never met looking down at me. When I looked around, I could see the main body moving off to the west.
"Platoon Leader, Tang said you were our squad leader and we should wait for you to…" a square-faced, tall well-built man said while frowning. "We're in squad five."
"Good. I'm Jolie Luan the squad leader." I fished out my exercise instructions. "Ryan?" I asked looking at the group. A wiry young man, with short brown hair, and a narrow face and wide-open eyes raised a hand.
"That's me, sir…ma'am." He blurted, his face turning red."
"No sir, or ma'am. I'm Jolie, or Luan, or Fox which is my call sign. "What's your call sign?"
"Don't have one, ma…Fox," he managed after some stuttering.
"Ollie?" I asked and a muscular broad-shouldered man nodded.
"No call sign, squad leader," he said staring hard at me.
"Jolie or Fox. I don't care which. I know I'm the squad leader so don't rub it in.
"Alfie?" The square-faced, tall well-built man who had originally spoke, raised a hand.
"Rub it in?" he asked. I looked harder at each of the five men.
"Does anyone here have a call sign?" I asked. Each man shook his head in the negative.
"We were told they are nick names that stick and were usually earned on assignment," Alfie said. This couldn't be an accident. It had to be a test of some kind. No call sign would indicate none of them had been on their first assignment or they had, and nothing stood out about them.
"That's true," I said and smiled. "Each Tasmanian eventually gets a call sign that the majority of people who know him thinks fits his looks, personality, mannerisms, or actions while on assignment. But they must be unique since we use them to identify the person. You will eventually get one that you may or may not like, but it will be with you for your lifetime with the Tasmanians. Unfortunately, you don't get to pick. Max?"
"Here, Jolie," said a tall muscular man with a goatee and a devilish smile.
"Sami?"
"Here, Fox," A square-faced man with a bald head who looked like a wrestler replied.
"Alright. While the rest of the boys are running around trying to kill each other, we are tasked with locating the prisoner and freeing him from his evil capturers. That will require stealth and cunning and not strength and good shooting. Although we may have to kill a few men to achieve our goal, killing is not the objective. We would like to sneak in, free the captive, and leave without being noticed. That would be a perfect 10," I laughed, looking at the disappointment on each of their faces, knowing they wanted to be fighting Company A with the rest of Company B.
"The object of most if not all engagements is not to kill the enemy. It's to win, and winning can usually be accomplished without killing everyone, and sometimes without killing anyone. In this exercise, the object is to free the captive. Killing is a diversion." I paused to see if it had entered anyone's brain. "Since Simons has chosen to attack the west flank, all eyes should be on the west and the prisoner, so we will attempt to infiltrate the east flank, whose troops, like you, are lamenting not being part of the killing frenzy in the west."
I started walking slowly although we were far enough from the line designating the start of the enemy's, Company A, defensive line. As we came within fifty meters of the line, I slowed, staying where trees and brush would make it hard to see us, and stopped when I thought us within twenty-five meters.
"Huddle around. I'll go first. You're to follow one at a time, but stay well behind me. You're free to use a different path if you see an alternative route. If you are caught, you have failed. If you are seen and have to shoot someone, you get a D. If you get through unseen and without having to shoot anyone, you get an A," I said looking around. Seeing they understood, I began a slow approach to the imaginary line, sometimes on my hands and knees, sometimes on my belly, and often laying still for long periods surveying the area. I spotted four Tasmanians in fatigues with red splotches indicating they were from Company A. Unfortunately, they were attentive, paying little attention to the cacophony of paint-guns firing to the west. Seventy-five meters to the west were another four, but their attention was partially distracted by the noise to the west, with little concern to the east, because their brothers were there.
I made for a spot within twenty meters of the distracted group. It took me an hour to crawl even with them and another hour to get far enough past them to feel I could rise onto my hands and knees. I could make out Company A's headquarters house on a hill looking to be about a klick away to the southwest. Looking through the scope on my Tavor; it looked like a hastily built wooden cabin capable of holding ten to fifteen men and having maybe two separate rooms attached and an outhouse twenty meters away from the house. The foundation appeared to be supported by sixteen poles raising the frame a half meter off the uneven ground. I waited over an hour until Ryan appeared. I gave him a thumbs-up gesture, and he crawled next to me.
"Wait for the next man before following me. I'm headed for that building." I nodded at the cabin. "Be careful. They will have lookouts and there could be troops wandering the area. Avoid our troops as much as the others. We don't need the attention they could attract." I rose and slowly made my way toward the cabin, careful to take routes that provided the most concealment from the cabin observers. Four hours later, I stood within twenty meters of the building and waited as one by one my squad appeared. Twenty-eight hours had elapsed.
"You're probably wondering why we don't rush the cabin, kill everyone there, and free the prisoner," I said looking around the group who were all nodding. "That wouldn't be a win unless we could successfully make it back across the line, and it would be a total failure if we didn't. Since those odd are far less than a hundred, I'd prefer to see if we can find another way. So, that is our last alternative. You're to find concealment and wait for my signal." I looked at each man and received a nod. Some didn't look happy, but they were Tasmanians and would follow my orders, even if they thought I was being overly cautious because I was a woman. I made my way to the back of the building as it was heavily treed and began my crawl toward the house. It was morning with no clouds, so progress was slow, thinking I wanted to avoid movement which may attract the eye faster than a body lying still. Finally, I slipped under the crawl space and lay listening.
"Simons is leading Company B. They’ve easily broken through our line on the west, but we managed to contain him from moving east. But Tang managed to get behind our containment line and inflicted heavy damage. We are holding for now, but he has a twenty-man advantage. Now that I know he has all his company in the west, I've reduced our troops in the east by seventy percent and sent them to reinforce our troops in the west. We may be able to keep him from breaching the cabin with whatever forces we have left tomorrow. We need to work the clock. He has only forty hours remaining," someone said, right above where I was lay. Looking up the floor appeared to be one-by-two meter, two-centimeter plyboard sheets nailed to five-by-twenty-centimeter beams.
"Hey, someone. I need to piss. It's been well over eight hours
," someone hollered from somewhere above me to my right.
"Charlie, Jose, escort our prisoner to the outhouse.
"Why? He's not authorized to try and escape," another voice whined.
"We wouldn't want some stray from Company B to find him by accident and run off with him. He's our only hope of winning this exercise because I doubt we are going to win the war."
A few minutes later, I heard steps going to my right and a door opening. I saw three men come down the front two steps and walk to the wooden outhouse. Five minutes later, they were back, and I was able to identify the area the prisoner was being sequestered and the eight plyboard sheets that constituted his prison. I selected the third sheet from the back wall and began probing for the nails holding the plywood to the beam. It took two hours to locate the twenty nails. I signaled for two of my squad to join me and preceded to show them the marks I had made to pinpoint the location of each nail, and I showed them the one I had already dug loose.
Together, we began digging with our combat knives into the beam to free the two-centimeter long nails. Some were easy, as they were near the edge, while others were difficult, as they were in the center of the beam. It must have taken about eight hours because the prisoner called for another outhouse break. After he returned, I waited for a messenger to arrive with an update on the war. While they talked, we slowly lifted the panel. Our prisoner smiled seeing me and slipped into the opening. It was now night time and we quickly slid into the forest behind the house. Everyone was smiling.
