Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 16

Michael Doyle

"… just no way they can get away with it. I'm telling you…"

"Whew! I am starving! I haven't eaten in two days!"

Mackenzie rubbed her temple. Her right ear was pressed against the phone as she tried to hear Ethan talk; her left ear was exposed to the noisy soldiers moving furniture. The pain in her shoulder was already making her sick, but to deal with so much chaos was too much to bear. All of this would have been done earlier, if it wasn't for Percy demanding she take a week off. He had said, "You just saw a friend murdered and you were assaulted. I order you to take five days off – no less!" She didn't argue but she never relaxed. The whole time she paced about.

While she was gone, so was Percy. Absolutely nothing was completed. While the office building was ready for the furniture to be moved in and communications installed, Percy hadn't stepped off of Warren's property. Wallace was too busy training the patrol squad and adjusting to Patterson's men. Goldwin was too nervous to command the entire Company. The result was complete stagnation. Too make it worse Ethan had decided to call the day she got back – right when Skipper's squad bumbled with the new office gear.

"Not only haven't I eaten in two days, I haven't banged a girl in like a month!" Roo practically yelled.

"Haha, no kidding?" Boomerang answered. "Well, there aren't a lot of single girls around here that would willingly lay down for an ugly guy like you."

"Ah, what do you know, Boomerang?" Roo said. "Are you even legal age to be sleeping around?"

"Hey, I'm nineteen! Well… I think?"

"What about you Royal?" Roo asked. The youngster looked away and didn't answer. "You've got a regular, right? s**t, and since you lived here I bet you get your d**k wet every day!"

"I saw him smuggling his babe in two nights ago," another added from the doorway. "Sharing a bunk with you is tough, Royal!"

Mackenzie was glad she was used to such conversations. She wondered how others would react, especially someone like Royal's father. Despite being used to the content, she certainly wasn't used to the volume. While Percy's men were rambunctious at times, their voices weren't piercing. Roo seemed to yell every word that came out of his mouth and was very expressive, while Boomerang had a tendency to stress the most random words. She wondered if either of them had a high school education.

Regardless, it was impossible for her to focus on her fiancé. Ethan had called because he was worried. "I haven't heard from you in a week," he had said. He proclaimed, "I have something very important to tell you, you just won't believe it. But first…" That was followed by meaningless chatter. Eventually, he got to the point, but by then she had gotten such a terrible migraine she couldn't follow him. If she were to be honest, she would admit she held onto the phone only because she loved hearing his voice. Instead, she convinced herself it was because she truly needed to know what was so important.

Unfortunately, when he got to the "important" news, he was muffled out by Skipper's squad. Before she could ask him to repeat what he said, he had to cut the phone call short. He said, "Something's just come up. I miss you already. Stay safe for me, please? I love you."

He hadn't heard about her injury and she didn't tell him then. "I love you, too," she said before the faint click of the receiver was heard.

"In all seriousness though, when are we getting food? Rations have been running low and now we don't have enough to eat regularly," Boomerang said.

"Use your own money and buy some food in town," Skipper suggested.

"Allowances stopped coming in two weeks ago," Roo said.

Mackenzie grew tired of their idle chatter. She said, "It's that way throughout the entire military. Everyone is low on food, ammo, and money. Of course they skimmed ours first since we're a domestic camp. They have to keep the frontline troops happy."

"Everyone is low except guys like General Ellis," Roo sighed. "He gets cozy with the Pres's wife and the brass gets bonuses like they belong on Wall Street. It's bull –"

The THUNK of Mackenzie's good arm slamming against a desk silenced him. "I will not tolerate rumors regarding the Commander-in-Chief or your superior officers, understood?" she barked. Everyone nodded. "Good, then get back to work."

Instantly the men barreled out of the room and outside. Once away from the clearly frustrated Captain, they all heaved a sigh of relief. "Damn. How does the Major put up with her? Must be good in bed, right?" Roo said.

"Hey," Royal poked Roo. "You realize your hand was on your walkie when you said that, right?"

At first, Roo didn't believe him. It wasn't until he looked down at where he had placed his hand before he paled. There was no way to know what kind of lashing or beating he would receive over such a gaffe. For a brief moment he almost took flight to avoid the wrath of Mackenzie. In all of his history of dealing with commanding officers, they all punished him harshly for every mistake he made.

The Captain poked her head outside and sent a glare to Roo. "For your information, Corporal, I do not have s****l relations with my superior officers," she seethed.

"Of course, ma'am! Sorry!"

"But," she managed a grin, "I am good in bed."

As she disappeared back inside, Roo's expression went from fearful, to shocked, to playful. A couple of "woos!" from the other guys only seemed to make his smirk grow. His chest swelled up as he prepared to shout a line back. He was going to scream it, just to make sure everyone heard it. Fortunately, he was never able to speak it.

Corporal McGill was making morning rounds and stopped by the office building to check in on Mackenzie. With the Captain injured, someone had to be kind enough to ensure she didn't need help. The other squad leaders all claimed they couldn't be bothered. She expected to see the men of Skipper's squad hard at work, considering Mackenzie's reputation as a slave driver. Instead, she saw a group of men standing around with smirks and grins on their faces.

"Morning, Corporal!" Boomerang greeted.

The shout caused Mackenzie to poke her head back out again. McGill offered her a salute and said, "Good morning, Captain."

"Morning, Jennifer," she said. "You're the only leader I've seen in uniform all day."

"The guys are too lazy. I can't get anything done unless I do it myself."

"I'll help you!" Roo shouted. He even dramatically shot his hand up and waved it around. Something in the sky caused McGill to crane her neck upwards. The curious others followed suit. Making rounds above them was an unmanned reconnaissance vehicle. It made no attempt at stealth. Skipper's men, sans Royal, fell to the dirt. Roo managed a surprised, "The Chinese!" as he attempted to crawl towards the office building.

"Why the hell would the Chinese be all the way out in Nebraska?" Mackenzie asked. "It's one of ours."

Slowly the men braved to look up. They were unable to catch a glimpse of the craft as it disappeared out of their airspace. As they awkwardly stood again, they wondered when their Company managed to get their hands on such a play toy. Mackenzie, however, felt her body stiffen; just what exactly had their Major done this time? To warrant a patrol meant it was something violent.

Just entering town was Lieutenant Michael Doyle. He had recently graduated from Officer Candidate School and was excited for his first mission. To be in charge of the rescue of the Duke of Edinburgh's son was a badge of honor. Not so much that he was thrilled that he was in charge of such a routine mission, but more because the missing child was a living legend amongst the infantry. If Doyle could save Henry Flowerdew and arrest the captor, he would go down in history as a great infantry leader.

His plan was more diplomatic than forceful. He took one squad into town while having the remaining members of his platoon surround any possible exit points from Union. The objective was to peacefully enter the town, inform the town's government of the situation and ask for Percy's cooperation. He was expecting complete cooperation from the townspeople and absolute discipline and reserve from his men. Unfortunately, he was wrong on both assumptions.

Doyle sat in the front of the first of two jeeps, his arms folded over his chest as he mulled his idea. They were just on the outside of town and he was trying to gather the condition of Union in order to understand the possible mindset of the people. He was a trained liberator, after all, which meant his first worry was the citizens' situation. As he assessed the roads, fence line and crops, the church was the first building he saw.

"The area appears to be clear of hostiles and Major Raymond's Company is operating as normal, Lieutenant," a Corporal in his jeep said. "Well, as normal as anyone could expect."

"Slow us down at that church looking place," Doyle ordered. The Specialist followed orders and stopped near the church entrance; the second jeep wasn't far behind. Doyle leapt out of the jeep and walked up to the building and eyed it curiously.

"Can I help you?" a blonde-haired woman asked from near the church. She smiled warmly at him and he returned the gesture. "If you're looking for Warren, I'm afraid he's not there right now."

"No, ma'am. Though perhaps you can lead me to Major Raymond?" Doyle asked.

She shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't. I have small children waiting at home. If you would like, just continue down this road and it will lead you to Percy's base."

"Thank you, ma'am," he thanked. Doyle turned on his heel and trotted back to his jeep. "I'll take just one vehicle from here." He turned to the second jeep and hollered, "Come along, Sergeant. I'll take your jeep."

The jeep pulled up to Doyle and he hopped onboard, bringing the total men he was with to five. They set out towards the center of Percy's base. The road had little buildings; it was mostly just farmland. They passed by one house and it was at that point that they began to realize the townsfolk watched them cautiously from the safety of their buildings. Doyle and the Sergeant felt a little on edge over the peering eyes, but they were nowhere near as terrified as the other men with them.

Those that were not in buildings didn't make eye contact as they passed by. Doyle understood instantly that the people were not in the mood to cooperate. He looked around to see if he could find someone of sense. Surely, he thought, if someone spotted geared up soldiers they would get curious and ask eventually.

The person to first approach Doyle was Wallace. Traveling back towards his father's house, he was required to pass through the base. Along with him were his sister Abigail and her son Othello. Since he did not recognize the vehicle or its owners, Wallace stepped in the middle of the road to cut them off.

He walked smartly to the Lieutenant and asked, "Can I help you gentlemen?" In his civilian clothes, he disregarded protocol and refused to salute or acknowledge the rank difference.

"Yes, sir!" Doyle greeted. "Can you please show us to the town's leadership?"

"I take responsibility. What can I help you with?"

Doyle smiled, "HQ received an automated report that the Duke of Edinburgh's son was found around here. However, there was no personal report regarding the incident. Do you know of this?"

Wallace titled his head as he thought. "I might," he answered. "Why don't you boys follow us? We have to pass through towards my house. I can take you to Captain Ross that way."

"Sounds fantastic!"

The overly enthusiastic and cheesy remark annoyed Wallace. Somehow he managed to hide the expression that attempted to smear his face. Othello was able to pick up on his Uncle's feelings, however. The little boy was only seven, yet Wallace swore the kid could pick up on more than adults could. Curious as to whom the newcomers were that upset Wallace, Othello stared over his shoulder at the soldiers. He was not impressed.

They arrived at the office building to find Skipper's men were still chatting with the two female soldiers. The arrival of Doyle and his men was expected but not welcomed. Roo and his friends were on edge immediately. They had no firearms but only knives at their belts; their hands gripped the handles tightly.

No one bothered to salute save for Doyle who offered one to Mackenzie. He said, "Good day, Captain. This gentleman said you could assist me in an inquiry?"

Mackenzie could sense how uneasy Skipper's men were. She didn't know why they were so nervous, but she didn't want them to act on their emotions. She said, "Of course, Lieutenant. "Let's talk about this matter in private."

Doyle caught just the tail end of her wave as she retreated back inside the almost finished office space. He followed her inside but did not order his men to do the same. The result was that Mackenzie took with her the rational and leading voice of the platoon while leaving the others surrounded by uncertainty and fear.

"You guys have anything to eat by chance?" the visiting Corporal asked. "We've had to drive for almost a thousand miles and they didn't give us any rations."

"No money, either," the Specialist lamented.

"We're in the same boat, unfortunately," McGill said.

The arrogant Sergeant had remained silent up to this point. It wasn't until he knew Doyle was out of earshot did he finally open his mouth.

"So," he said, eyeing Roo. "You're part of the Asia team, right? I thought they killed you bastards." Instantly they all shifted to obtain a more offensive stance. The Sergeant went to prove he was not intimidated. He stepped out of the jeep and got himself with striking distance of Roo. It was, however, too close to swing his rifle around. "It is unfortunate scum like you make it back but real men don't."

McGill noticed Roo's footing change. Suddenly, he was ready to back away. It was her turn to reach for a weapon, just in case. When her hand touched her holster, the Specialist caught sight of the pistol she wore. "A Corporal with a pistol?" he remarked aloud.

Now the Sergeant was focused on McGill. He just laughed and said, "A frail thing like her couldn't hold a rifle! Of course they gave her a pistol. She probably can't even fire it!"

"This is why I hate you bastards. Acting so high and mighty. I bet you never even set foot on a battlefield," Boomerang muttered.

Somehow, the Sergeant did not seem affected by the insult. He said, "I have. And unlike you pathetic pieces of s**t, I accomplished something other than killing my commanders. Why in God's name you aren't hanging right now I will never know."

"I'm tired of defending myself on that matter," Roo said.

"Because you can't," the Sergeant teased.

Abigail had heard enough of the banter and placed herself in between the Sergeant and Roo. Immediately, Roo had stepped back; it was a sign of respect towards her more than anything. The Sergeant, however, only frowned at the nuisance. She demanded, "Enough. I have no idea what incident you speak of, but this is supposed to be America. Isn't he innocent until proven guilty?" Wallace felt his heart stop as she continued. "You're both soldiers, act like it."

The Sergeant pushed himself against her in defiance. She realized the soldier was not interested in diplomacy. In response she reeled back and decked the Sergeant directly on the bridge of his nose. The blow was hard enough to knock his unstrapped helmet off. As the Sergeant stumbled back, Abigail grabbed the rifle and twisted it out of his grasp. Before she could react, the Sergeant had drawn a pistol and unloaded several deafening rounds at her.

She collapsed backwards and avoided a hardy fall thanks to Wallace's quick catch. Already she was blacking out and couldn't hear the questions Wallace asked. The ringing in her ears from the gunshots and the burning sensation in her chest had blocked her senses completely.

Within a matter of seconds, McGill had pulled her pistol and fired one shot at the Sergeant. It struck him directly above his left eye. The others in the jeep attempted to pull out their rifles but were ambushed by Skipper's men. McGill did not order them to stop. She kept her pistol ready but did not aim or fire. Royal did not attack either; he dropped to his knees next to Wallace and tried to see if he could save the injured woman.

"Stand down! Stand down!" Mackenzie's voice clearly ordered. Skipper's men halted in their attack with one man left alive. The Specialist in the driver's seat was a mere moment away from a fatal stab wound. His hands and arms were covered in slashes caused by his attempts to block Roo's knife.

Wallace was desperately trying to cover all the holes in his sister but to no avail. Abigail was already in shock and had lost too much blood. Wallace felt his strength disappear; he collapsed on her and buried his face in Abigail's blood soaked shirt. Royal placed a comforting hand on his back. Not a single sound emitted from Wallace as his sister succumbed.

Boomerang, meanwhile, was being pulled off the jeep harshly by Mackenzie. "What were you doing?" she demanded.

He threw his arms in the air and dropped his knife. She didn't like the sight of him covered in another American's blood. "They attacked first! They straight up shot that woman!" he defended.

"You lying bastard!" the scared Specialist managed to scream. "She decked our Sarge square in the nose first!" He was about to speak again but was cut short by a sudden shriek of a cry. Othello had finally started crying, as though he had yet to process what was going on.

"I had no intention of this happening," Doyle proclaimed. He was facing Wallace's unmoving form huddled around his dead sister when he said it, although it wasn't directed towards anyone in particular. He suggested, "Let us retreat from Union for now. We'll return in a day or two. Clearly I need to be debriefed on the situation. I'll be launching an investigation into this."

"Royal," Mackenzie said, her voice loyal and defeated. "Please help him."

Hesitantly, Royal did as he was told. Slowly he stood; his hand remained on Wallace's back for a few heartbreaking seconds before he finally carried out Mackenzie's orders.