John Ringo - To Sail a Darkling Sea

“Then we’ll do it with the whole ship,” Sergeant Smith said.

“Da’ll just have us scatter beetles,” Faith said. “There’s no way to clear two or three thousand bodies.”

“What I don’t get is how you and your dad cleared one of these by yourselves,” a Marine said. “Jesus, ma’am. I mean… We’ve only got two decks clear.”

“One compartment at a time,” Faith said. “And it wasn’t just Da and I. There was Sergeant… Lieutenant Fontana and Hooch. But, yeah, it was a bit of a wanker. Really rather change the subject. Okay, we’re all Marines, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Smitty said.

“Not everybody in the saloon?”

“No, ma’am,” Smith said, frowning.

“How come half the people in this room are wearing Marine and Navy T-shirts?” Faith asked.

“Oh, that,” Smitty said, chuckling. “There was a big stash of them on the Iwo . You know how finding clothes that fit is tough, ma’am. So they just are handing them out to whoever gets found.”

“Ah,” Faith said. “That makes sense. It sort of makes it hard separating the sheep from the goats, though.”

“Well, I guess we could give them all dresses, ma’am,” Derek said.

“Bite your tongue,” Faith said. “Those are works of art !”

“We heard about your little combat shopping spree, ma’am,” Sergeant Smith said over the chuckles.

“Okay, okay, so I went a little nuts,” Faith said. “Sue me. You’re guys. You don’t get it.”

“We figure we’d do the same thing if it was a container full of Guinness, ma’am,” Derek said, grinning. “Don’t sweat it. No worries.”

“Is the door still holding?” Faith asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Smitty said. “We did some reinforcing on it. Well, covered some Navy guys who reinforced it.”

“We need to get those out of the container and into safety,” Faith said. “Seriously. Those are works of art. You don’t just leave them to get rained on or overrun by infected.” She looked at her empty plate and sighed. “I really shouldn’t do dessert… ”

“I’ll get you something, ma’am,” one of the Marines said. “What do you want?”

“I appreciate it, again,” Faith said, standing up. “But, you guys have been clearing all day while I was napping. I should do my own fetching.”

* * *

“So that’s Shewolf?” one of the Marines said as she walked away. He added a whistle. “Damn that’s some fine jailbait.”

“Olsen, I will personally ram a fork down your throat,” Pagliaro said.

“And the rest of us will hold you down,” Smitty added. “Not to mention disrespect to a superior officer.”

“I wasn’t being… ” Olsen said. “I guess I was but, just… wow! And I am being very respectful of the LT, Sergeant. Nothing but admiration. But is she really… I mean, she’s big for a chick, especially a, you know, thirteen -year-old chick, but is she really as badass as everybody says?”

“Worse,” Derek said. “Dead killer combat shooter, rifle or pistol. She’s killed so many infected she just does it without thinking. Muscle fucking memory. Sees an infected, kills it. I’ve never seen her use her kukhri but Lieutenant Fontana said she’s pretty much the same at melee range. You’ve seen the video, right?”

“Yes, Corporal, I have,” Olsen said. “Just having hard time connecting Miss Hotty with it.”

“Then there’s the drinking thing,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“Drinking?” Olsen said. “Isn’t she a little young?”

“Rather the not drinking, usually, thing,” Derek said. “She only drinks, like, water and fruit juice. Doesn’t like the taste of beer or wine.”

“But she’s okay with straight liquor,” Pag said, chuckling.

“Straight?” Olsen said.

“Drinks it like water,” Derek said. “Isn’t really into it cause it barely gives her a buzz. Just takes a couple shots ‘Is this supposed to be doing something?’ I’ve seen her drink enough to put down a Gunny and it not even faze her.”

“Damn,” Olsen said, laughing. “Okay, I guess she can be an officer.”

“As if it’s up to you to judge,” Derek said.

“She does have a tendency to pass out at a certain point,” Pagliaro said, snickering.

“Pass out?” Olsen said.

“First night we were clearing the Boadicea she practically face planted in her plate at dinner,” Pag said, laughing. “Like ‘I’ve got reports to write. . Snore. .’ ”

“She’s thirteen,” Derek said. “She’s still growing. I’m always surprised she hangs as long as she does. And, Pag, you were ten minutes behind her.”

“I get that,” one of the Marines said. “Clearing is fucking hell on your adrenal gland. I thought the Stan was bad.”

“Fuck, I’m a God damned airframe mechanic ,” Olsen said. “This shit is for Oh-Three-Elevens.”

“We’re all infantry now,” Derek said. “At least, that’s the way Captain Carrion sees it. And he is another Smith I am not going to fuck with. Hooch says her dad is as badass as Faith. And that’s pretty fucking badass for a Navy Captain.”

* * *

Faith trolled the dessert tray but she’d filled up on “regular” food and wasn’t quite ready to pile on pure sugar. The chocolate tray was tempting. Apparently someone had found a stash of Godiva. She ate a couple at the buffet then headed back to the Marine table. She was still tired and dessert could wait.

Half way across the room a hand grabbed her arm.

“Hey, Tootsie,” the man said, holding out an empty high-ball glass. “Get me another Glenlivet.”

Faith just stood there in shock for a moment. The dude, who looked to be in his early fifties, was clearly a “boat” freshy. He had one hell of a tan.

“Uh, sir… ” The table “sponsor” looked like one of the Money girls and had a slight Slavic accent. “That’s… ”

“Let go of my arm,” Faith said. “The last person who grabbed me I literally cut their fucking hand off at the wrist.”

“Do you know who I am?” the man snapped.

“Somebody who needs to learn some fucking manners,” Faith said, grabbing his thumb and twisting it into a lock.

“Ow!” the man said. “Jesus, let go of me you crazy bitch!”

Faith’s eyes blazed and she threw the man to the ground, putting his head in a lock with his arm twisted behind his back.

“I don’t know who you are, but do you know who I am?” Faith snarled.

“Lieutenant!” a voice snapped from behind her. “Let go of Mister Zumwald!”

She looked over her shoulder and it was, of course, Captain Wilkes. Great.

She released the man and rolled to her feet.

“Sorry, sir,” Faith said. “But I don’t like being grabbed and I especially didn’t like being called a bitch, sir.”

“Mister Zumwald, I apologize for the lieutenant’s overreaction.”

“ Lieutenant ?” the man gargled. “She’s insane ! She needs to be locked up!”

“I will, I assure you, counsel the lieutenant on actions becoming of an officer in the United States military, sir,” Wilkes said. “Lieutenant, a moment of your time?”

* * *

Wilkes led Faith out of the main saloon onto the foredeck and turned around, hands on his hips.

“Lieutenant, would you care to explain your actions in there? You don’t put a major Hollywood executive in a headlock!”

“Sir… ” Faith said. She tended to get at a loss for words when she was being scolded and she really didn’t know what to say. “He grabbed me, sir!”

“So you put him in a chokehold?” Wilkes said. “There are situations that can be resolved without violence, Lieutenant. Has anyone ever explained to you the term ‘conduct unbecoming of an officer’? It means you don’t go brawling with anyone , especially major film executives, in public!”