Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

Mac knew a dismissal when she heard one. She stood, came to attention, and popped a salute. Lassiter gave one in return. “And Macintyre…”

“Sir?”

“You did a good job up in Wyoming. Dismissed.”

The parting comment left Mac with a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could win Lassiter over. Not with bullshit… But by creating the best battalion in his brigade.

Mac exited the building to discover that a captain was waiting for her… A skull-and-lightning pin was affixed to his beret. He came to attention and rendered a salute. “Good morning, Major… Captain Roy Quick reporting for duty.”

Quick had dark skin, a round face, and a boyish demeanor. Mac returned the salute. “Reporting for duty as what ?”

“I’m your XO, ma’am.”

Mac remembered what Lassiter had said. “Are you the spy?”

Quick grinned. “Yes, ma’am… The colonel told me to keep a close eye on you.”

“And you intend to do that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Fair enough… Tell him the truth, and we’ll get along just fine. So, Roy… The colonel mentioned a base. Have you been there?”

“I have,” Quick replied. “It isn’t fancy, but it’ll do. Here’s the problem, though… Someone in the chain of command has been sending supplies there. And we don’t have anyone to receive, inventory, and track them.”

“So we need some supply people.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay… I’ll go shopping for people in the morning. In the meantime, I’d like to see what the battalion is entitled to. Do you have a table of organization?”

Quick did. And a Humvee as well. They chatted as he drove them out through the main gate, and along a fence, to Peavey Field. It seemed that Quick had seen action in the Middle East, as well as the opening battles of the Second Civil War. That was good news from Mac’s point of view, and a sure sign that, while Lassiter didn’t approve of the reintegration concept, he wasn’t trying to sabotage it by assigning a second-rate XO to her battalion.

A pair of MPs were guarding the gate to Peavey Field. They knew Quick and hurried to let the officers in. The situation inside the wire was what Mac expected it to be. With the exception of a wingless Cessna, the rest of the civilian planes had been removed, leaving two rows of hangars behind. “I figure we can park two Strykers under each roof,” Quick said. “That will make it more difficult for the rebs to count them from above—and the wrench turners will be able to get in out of the weather.”

Mac was impressed by her XO’s interest in strategic matters and the well-being of the battalion’s troops. “That’s a good idea, Roy. What about barracks? Are there any buildings that could serve?”

Quick shook his head as the Humvee came to a stop in front of a small building. The sun-faded sign read: TERMINAL. “No, ma’am,” Quick replied. “But I took the liberty of requisitioning two modular tent systems from the division. I figured we could set them up on the east side of the runway with porta potties along the fence.”

“You the man,” Mac said approvingly. She gestured toward the terminal building. “And what about that?”

“Battalion HQ,” Quick replied. “Assuming you approve. Plus the three Conex loads of the supplies that I mentioned earlier.”

Mac got out to take a look around. Quick was correct. The empty terminal would function as her headquarters, and the supplies were a pressing problem. What if someone came in and stole them? She’d be in deep shit, that’s what. She had to “recruit” some troops and do it fast.

Mac spent the night in the division’s BOQ, and hoped that doing so wouldn’t violate Lassiter’s prohibition against mixing with “the fine men and women of the 31st.” There was so much to think about that she had difficulty getting to sleep at first. But once fatigue overcame her, it was like falling off the edge of a cliff. Mac awoke rested and eager to get going.

A hurried breakfast was followed by a short helo ride to Fort Leavenworth. Something she wouldn’t have been able to arrange without assistance from Quick. Mac wished she could bring him along. But with thirty, no, twenty-nine days left to work with—someone had to stay behind and manage the paperwork that went with commissioning a new battalion.

The flight went smoothly, and it felt strange to land near the building where she’d been imprisoned the day before. She recognized some of the soldiers on the gate and could tell that they recognized her. A corporal grinned as Mac flashed her new ID card. “Welcome back, ma’am… And congratulations.”

Once inside, Mac went straight to the multi, where she was given access to all of the prisoner records. There were about five hundred in all, which represented about a third of the military’s prisoner population. Not that many, really… A fact that critics could use against Sloan if they chose to, and maybe they would.

It would have been nice to visit all of the army’s detention facilities, but there wasn’t enough time, so Mac would have to settle for what she could source locally. Later, once the outfit was up and running, she could look farther afield.

After reviewing the records, Mac saw that only twelve 03-level officers were being held in the prison, and of those, two had been convicted of violent crimes, making them ineligible for the program. Mac was camped in a spartan conference room, where she spent the next hour studying the ten remaining candidates. Her goal was to identify people who had combat experience and been convicted of crimes that weren’t representative of their past performance.

Once that process was over, the “candidates” were brought in one at a time and invited to sit across from Mac, while an MP stood guard. Having been a prisoner herself, Mac wasn’t surprised to learn that they knew all about the Military Reintegration Program and her role in it. News like that was bound to travel quickly in the JRCF’s closed universe. And some, like Captain Patrick Rowley, were eager to join. “I’m your man,” he assured her. “You were a mercenary before the war, right? What a great gig.”

Mac frowned. “As I understand it, you and two of your soldiers put on Confederate uniforms and robbed a bank.”

“Yeah,” Rowley admitted. “No one was hurt, and we got away clean… But Solby got drunk and spilled his guts.”

“You know my battalion will be part of the regular army, right? And not a criminal gang.”

“Sure,” Rowley said with a wink. “I know that.”

Mac turned to look at the guard. “Take this man back to his cell and show the next candidate in.”

“Wait!” Rowley said, as he was led away. “That was a joke! I’m your man!”

The next prisoner was a supply officer, Amy Wu. She had short black hair and severe bangs. Mac could see a wariness in Wu’s almond-shaped eyes. “So,” Mac began, “you’re doing time for stealing government property.”

“No,” Wu said flatly. “I’m in prison for stealing rebel property.”

“What had been rebel property,” Mac countered. “Until it was captured and became Union property.”

Wu’s prison-issue clothes were too large for her tiny frame. Her shirt barely moved when she shrugged. “Technically, yes.”

“And you did it because?”

“I did it for the money,” Wu said defiantly.

Mac frowned. “I’m looking for a supply officer… More than that, a person who can run my headquarters company. You’re qualified, on paper at least, but what about the fuck-you attitude? Is that who you are? Or is that prison bravado?”

Mac saw something change in the other woman’s eyes. She looked down at her lap. “I made a mistake, Major. I regret it. I’d like a second chance.”