by C. R. Daems
"We go south," I said which received multiple frowns. I ignored them and waved our prisoner south. I stopped an hour later, having veered partly to the west.
"Why did you go south rather than to our line, which is north?" Ollie asked when I finally stopped at least a half klick away from the house.
"Because it's the only direction they won't search," the prisoner said. "Hi Fox, Mamba talks about you all the time. I'm Daron, call sign Condor."
"Nice to meet you, Condor. I'll bet that's an interesting story," I said.
"I like hang gliding, and now and then it comes in handy," he said. "We going to sneak behind Simons’ offensive lines?"
"Easier than crawling around in the dirt trying to avoid patrols.
We began slowly moving west while watching north in an attempt to determine where Company B was currently located. From what I heard while under the cabin, Simons was pushing east and had the advantage. We looked to be at least two hundred meters above the main fighting and maybe fifty meters from Company A's defensive line. I decided to maintain our distance from the battle to avoid being noticed. I had new Tasmanians, and while they had performed well so far, they weren't as stealthy as my normal platoon. Two hours later, I felt certain we were well behind Company B's line and began moving north.
"Shit," I muttered.
"That does complicate matters," Condor said, obviously having seen what I saw.
"What's up?" Sami asked as I waved them to me.
"Company A is attempting to flank Company B," I said and sat. When I opened my eyes, everyone was staring at me. Condor was smiling.
"I told them that was normal Fox behavior, and they should be patient." Condor was grinning. "Mamba said you did that all the time."
"Thanks, Condor. I forgot not everyone is aware of my idiosyncrasies," I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment. "That's a desperate gambit by Company A, as they must have weakened their main line of defense, but it could work. They will have the element of surprise." I looked up at Condor. "You don't happen to be used as a scout?" I saw him nod. "I'd like to get closer to them but wait to see what they are planning."
"Why wait. We can surprise them…and be heroes," Ollie said. "We’re Tasmanians…"
"So are the ten you want to engage," I said and nodded to Condor to go. He nodded and began moving north. The ten from Company A were moving slow and cautious, and two hours passed as they maneuvered well behind Company B's main line. It was obvious they were here to find Simons. "Ollie, Max, take Condor and go about thirty-meters west, find good cover, and stay hidden unless you're discovered. The rest of us are going to fan out and attempt to surprise the ten on my signal."
"We would have a better chance with all seven," Ollie said.
"If the prisoner dies, we've failed. So, we're going to be martyrs. We won't kill them all, but we will alert Company B to their presence so they won't succeed in killing Simons and a bunch of company B troops that could even the numbers." I waved Ollie off to the west and turned to the others. "Ten-meter separation, try to move with me, fire on my TCom signal, or if we are discovered before my signal."
I moved almost at a normal walking pace, wanting to close the distance and not caring if we were discovered. Five minutes later, we were within twenty meters and I could see Simons and several troops sixty plus meters ahead. I clicked my TCom and fired. I hit my target in the back, but before I could target the next man, he had spun and dove off to the side while firing. His paintball hit me in the side. Mine hit him in the thigh. To my surprise, none of the ten looked to be firing at Simons. They were all shooting at us. I dove in the direction of the third man and shot, hitting him in the chest and getting hit in the side, but the second man hit me in the head. We had killed five and wounded two others according to the referees. To my surprise, the five turned south and rushed past me and my four dead squad members, but they were soon caught by men from Company B who descended on them.
Since I had been declared dead, I sat. A few minutes later, Spiderman came over and sat. He had been one of the ten and had been killed.
"You look confused, Fox. That's not like the Fox I know." He smiled. "As you frequently remind us, those who make Tasmanian are crazy but not stupid." He grinned. "When we found Condor missing, some of us figured it had to be the Fox and deduced she wouldn't go north, west, or east but south. So, we thought we would send a larger team than you had to sneak behind Company B's line, hoping you would see us and attempt to stop us. When you did, we hoped to kill the prisoner. It worked perfectly except the prisoner wasn't with you."
"Unlike the new Tasmanians I had in my squad, I knew six of us weren't going to win a battle with ten of my brothers," I said as Simons came walking up with Condor.
Simons laughed. "Tasmanian Jolie Luan has earned a posthumous award from a grateful Company B."
* * *
Everyone was exhausted from three days of the quarterly intercompany exercise but not ready to sleep, me included, I realized as I looked at my bunk. So, I washed and changed into a clean uniform and decided to go to Happy Corner where I expected most of the Tasmanians will have gone to decompress from the TQE exercise. I wasn't up to interacting with civilians.
When I arrived, I saw a lot of people I knew, but decided to sit at the table of Tasmanians I had been assigned for the TQE.
"Hi, Fox. I guess you can't sleep either," Ryan said as I sat. "You know Alfie, Max, Ollie, and Sami. The girls are Abby, Sally, and Paige."
"Too much adrenaline," Ollie said with a laugh. "You need it to keep going, but it's on so long, it's hard to shut it down."
"Ya, your body is wasted but you mind is wide awake," Max said, took a slug of beer, and laughed. "The beer is too slow down the mind."
"I guess I'll have one then," I said signaling to a waitress and pointed to Max's Delphi dark beer bottle. She nodded. A minute later, she placed a bottle on the table. I picked it up, thinking the bottle felt like it was made of lead, and took a swallow. The beer felt like a thousand needles going down my throat but the cold liquid soothing. "Wow," I said just as the noise in the room suddenly dropped in half then went silent.
"Where is that camp whore who you pretend is a Tasmanian," a man in an army uniform shouted. I shook my head to clear it and realized the man was Major Lloyd. Several Tasmanians stood looking angry.
"Here I am, Major." I waved as I stood, feeling like I was moving in molasses.
"Well, I'm here to prove you aren't a Tasmanian and couldn't qualify for the Rangers. You're a whore and a coward. You only have a big mouth when you have Tasmanians near to protect you. So, they and you need to admit it or I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget." Spittle could be seen coming from his mouth as he shouted. I pushed both hands down indicating everyone should sit.
"Alright, Major, let's get on with your demonstration," I said languorously, like I felt.
"Get your knife out," he shouted.
"Can't. It's sharp, and you could get hurt." That seemed to enrage Lloyd, and he walked quickly toward me and lunged at the last moment with his knife pointing at my upper chest. My right arm rotated up, blocking his trusting right arm, then my arm pushed his extended arm down, and then struck up and out. My open palm hit him in the chest, sending him backward and fighting to breathe. Unfortunately, my left hand was a bit slow trapping his knife arm, and he cut me as he was flung backward. The cut was shallow but deep enough to bleed. When he could breathe again, he laughed.
"I couldn't have cut a real Tasmanian. You won't be so lucky next time," he said as he walked toward me. His knife slashed out toward my face, which I ignored as he was too far away. It was faint as was the return slash across my stomach. The knife stopped halfway, and he lunged at my intestines. Nasty, I thought as my right arm again blocked his thrusting arm as I twisted right, but this time my left hand grasped his arm as my right arm came up and over his right shoulder. Then I stepped in and turned left forcing him backward over my right leg and he crashed to the floor. But I los
t control of his knife arm, and the knife cut my right arm again–not through Lloyd’s skill but through my clumsy slow movement. If I had brought him across my knee instead of my leg, I would have broken his spine and avoided the cut. He lay several meters away pointing at my bleeding arm and laughing. I took a step backward and collapsed into a meditative posture and sought a quiet mind. I heard gasps from some of the people around the club, and Lloyd laughed hysterically.
"Major Lloyd, I apologize for calling you wet pants. It was uncalled for, but you caught me when I was tired, and I was mad at you for unnecessarily risking Rangers’ lives. I apologize–-"
"See the Tasmanian whore is afraid."
"However," I continued, "you insulted my brothers, and for that you own them an apology which I intend to collect, now."
"You pathetic whore. Look at you. You can't even stand. Beg me, and I won't cut your tongue out." He laughed.
"Major. The men and women who fail the Tasmanian Qualification School are not inferior to those who passed; they are just not suited for the missions the group is assigned. And truth be told, probably a lot saner." I heard a ripple of laughter. "You're inferior not because you failed to qualify but because you're not man enough to apologize when you're in the wrong. We're not better people than those in the army or Rangers, just better trained than anyone in the military. So, I warn you now, if you attack me you will get seriously hurt because I'm obviously too tired to play with you." I sat, feeling at peace.
"Bitch," Lloyd screamed as he rose to his feet and rushed to where I sat and swung his knife toward my face. My left arm rose, making contact with his knife arm. My hand slid down, so my left hand grasped his wrist, and I pulled him toward me as my right arm shot out and my open palm drove into his nose. He was lifted up and backward several stumbling steps before landing on his ass while his nose squirted blood. He sat there wiping his nose and swaying. His nose was obviously broken, and he was dizzy. I could hear people breathing it was so quiet. "I'll kill you, you fucking whore," Lloyd screamed as he staggered to his feet, picked up the knife he had dropped, and grabbed it for an overhand strike. Then he began a fast walk toward me. As he stepped forward with his right foot, getting ready to launch himself at me, I rolled on my left side and my right foot shot out into his knee. A loud crack sounded as the knee was driven inward. He collapsed face down as I rolled over and into a meditation posture.
"Would someone call for a doctor and an ambulance. I don't think the major would like to be treated by Tasmanians," I said, feeling totally exhausted. "And could someone bring me my beer?"
Peppermint knelt down next to me and examined my arm. "I'd say one click," he said and smiled, then added, "I'd say that was a reasonable performance after being awake for over seventy-two hours and while trying not to kill the fool."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Planet Delphi: Assignment Surbaya
"Jolie, that was damn sneaky or clever, depending on whom you talk to. I'll bet your squad wanted to storm the cabin, kill the Company A troops, and release the prisoner," Simons said as we sat in Howard's office drinking coffee.
"Yes, they were disappointed they didn't have anything to kill when everyone else did," I said. "The tribulations of having a timid woman for a squad leader."
Simons laughed. "Thanks for not killing Lloyd. You would have been justified but the rumors might have portrayed you as a vengeful killer and rubbed off on the Tasmanians."
"We were all concerned when you sat and were bleeding," Howard interjected. "Until Peppermint leaned over and said, 'The major's in a world of shit now. She just cleared her mind.' And true to his word, a minute later you broke the major's nose and then shattered his knee." Howard took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "The major is being dishonorably discharged for attempted murder since you didn't draw your knife."
Simons snorted. "Being a woman and small by comparison to a Tasmanian or Ranger and your non-confrontational style sure does confuse everyone. If I had been the major, I would have approached you with the same caution as a pit of vipers."
"I'm hurt, Chief. You make me feel like Medusa," I whined which caused both men to break out laughing.
"That's an image that is going to be hard to forget," Simons said. "In fact, it's a good thing you already have a call sign or that one may have stuck."
"Before Fox can ask for satisfaction, let me get to the reason for this meeting," Howard said with a grin. "Jolie, the Rangers have a favor to ask of you. The military were directed to look into a rumor that a supremacist militia exists on Surbaya. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem because those groups are usually small and isolated and don't create any civil problems. But this group is actively recruiting, finding traction in the rural areas, and credited with being responsible for an escalation in crime. The army brass thought it a problem best addressed by the Rangers on Surbaya, but Colonel Medina thought it would be perfect for you and your platoon. You would get a chance to visit you father, you know the country and the people, and you would be authorized to call on the Rangers stationed on Surbaya for support if necessary."
"Jolie is the only Tasmanian who would call on Rangers for support." Simons snorted a laugh. "The men would rather go down in a blaze of glory than admit they needed help."
"Yes, Chief, we all admit she is a good addition to the Tasmanians," Howard said while smiling at Simons. "Well, Jolie?"
"Why not?" I asked. "It appears the only way my boys and me are going to get an assignment. The USP appears to have run out of bad guys."
* * *
"I've called you here to announce we have an assignment and some changes," I said looking around my Ghost Platoon with fondness. "I've been promoted to commander for this assignment thanks to you idiots giving me all the credit for the good things that happen and taking all the blame for the bad things–"
"I haven't heard of an assignment or you being tasked as a company commander." Smitty was frowning so hard his nose was disappearing into his eyebrows.
"So, I need a platoon leader." I barely restrained a laugh as every head was involuntarily shaking in the negative and bodies shrinking back like they were too close to a raging fire.
"I guess it should be my second in–"
"No, no, no," Smitty said as he rose and took a step backward. "You can't do that to me."
I laughed so hard tears ran down my face and my stomach began to ache. Finally, I managed to speak. "The Ghost Platoon has been tasked to look into a supremacist group on Surbaya. So, that makes me the company commander, doesn't it?"
"You almost caused me a heart attack, Jolie," Smitty sputtered. "You should stop calling me your second in command."
"Can't," I said, sobering as I wiped my tear-streaked face with my sleeve. "There is no way I could have collected a team of this caliber or had any idea of my responsibilities as a squad leader without you, Smitty. So, you're stuck with the title, but I promise not to ask you or the others to make decisions you aren't comfortable with."
"Good, then you can continue to get all the credit, and we'll continue to take all the blame," Mamba said, to a shout of "Taarah."
"A shuttle will be here tomorrow at noon. We are being transported on the war cruiser, Thor."
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Planet Surbaya: Supremacist
When we exited the shuttle on Thor, we were met by a navy lieutenant who was clearly confused as to who to address and whether to salute. After several minutes of indecision, he decided to ask, as no one was saluting or paying attention to him. We were all gawking around like kids in Santa's workshop.
"Who's in charge?" he finally asked. I took pity on him.
"Confusing, isn't it, Lieutenant?" I said. "Military uniforms with no rank or medals. We could easily be mistaken for new recruits still in basic training. We're Tasmanian Special Forces troops, and I have the dubious honor of being in charge." I held up my hand as he looked like he may be thinking of saluting. "By tradition, we don't salute anyone, and no one is required
to salute us. I'm Tasmanian Luan. You can call me Jolie or Luan or Fox, but not ma'am."
He laughed. "I'm Lieutenant Carlson, Joe. I'll wager that upsets a lot of senior officers." He said looking around the group and then back to me and shook his head. "Jolie, we have quarters for you and your group in the commando's area."
"Lead on, Joe." I was lost the entire ten minutes it took to get to the marine's area. When we arrived, the area reminded me of a sport's arena with men and women commandos involved in an assortment of activities from sitting around talking, to exercising, to fighting matches. I didn't recognize anyone from my last trip to Surbaya. Activity ceased as we were led across the bay to the commando's sleeping quarters. The lieutenant wanted to assign us two-man rooms and me a separate one, but we settle for an open room which could accommodate twelve, probably reserved for low ranking enlisted. I declined a separate room for myself.
"Thanks, Joe, but I'm used to being quartered with my brothers. They're harmless," I said to Joe's open-mouth, stunned silence.
"It's alright, Joe, the Fox may be small but she's not harmless," Wolf said to an assortment of nods and comments. After getting our gear stowed, we wandered back into the open workout area. A master gunnery sergeant greeted us. Except for his age, he looked a Tasmanian's equal at one hundred eighty-one centimeters and supporting a muscular physique. His square face looked to be made of granite but showed signs of wear, and his short-cropped hair was streaked with grey.
"Welcome aboard. I'm Gunny Herman. We don't ever get an opportunity to host Tasmanians. You normally get delivered by transports," Herman said as a statement of fact, but it was really a question.
"They're a little big for eleven Tasmanians," I quipped. "It's a go-look-and-see assignment."
"And if you don't like what you see?"
"If it were up to me, I'd share the party with the commandos," I said, not wanting to get into a unit comparison even indirectly.
