Soldiers and Secrets

Chapter Three

Gant, E. Jon - Soldiers and Secrets [Avidbook, Alternative F/F, LGBT, Sic-Fi, Military, Action Adventure] Chapter Three

Officers’ canteen. Five am. Damascus followed Anthony in.

“What do you want for breakfast, Lieutenant? Cup of tea and two slices of toast?”

“Full breakfast, please, Dave.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “The works?”

“The works.”

Anthony looked at the girl behind the counter. “Two full breakfasts and a jar of coffee, please.”

“Yes, Captain.”

One minute later, they were sat at a table.

“Black or with milk, Dave?”

“Milk, please.”

He accepted the coffee, then watched as Damascus dug into the breakfast with a gusto he hadn’t seen in a woman officer before. “Hungry, Lieutenant?”

“Starved. I don’t know why, but it seems the earlier I get up, the more I want to eat.” She poured herself another mug of coffee.

Black, no sugar.

“I like an appetite in a soldier. I can’t stand people who pick at toast and orange juice for breakfast.”

“I’ve never been a toast person.”

“Me, neither.”

“What’s the plan for today?”

“Meet the platoon. See what the boys and girls make of their new second in command. And the other way around, of course. Proper introduction to the other lieutenants. They should be here, shortly. You’ve already met Andrew Richards.”

“Yes. I like him.” Damascus nodded.

“Second lieutenant, hard worker, an excellent soldier. I can see him making it to captain in a short time.”

“That would mean you losing him?”

“Yes, it would. It would be a shame to have to do that, but if he is capable of more, why keep him where he is? It really depends on where he is happiest, in command or as an assistant. As long as he is happy here, I’m happy to keep him.”

“Thought he was a good one when I first met him. I’d keep him, if I was you.”

“I want to. He’s too good an officer to let go. Here is your immediate superior. Lieutenant Michael Calvin. Michael, come join us.”

“Yes, sir.” Calvin, a tall, incredibly slim soldier, took the place next to Damascus. “Good morning, Lieutenant. Your name is..?”

“Damascus.”

Calvin’s eyebrows jerked upwards. “That’s a name I’m not going to forget in a hurry. First name?”

“Jackie.”

“Okay. I know your record, know the reason you are here, how you came to be the rank you are. I must ask you this – while I understand what you must be feeling about now, can I ask you to conduct yourself according to your new rank, and not…”

“And not act as if I’m still a captain? Not tell people about how I feel about the rotten luck that has been thrown in my direction? Those are things I have no intention of telling anyone, because it would be very boring to people who already know about it, and a possible source of ridicule for those who do and those who don’t. I have no wish to be either ridiculed, or thought of as boring. I am simply a soldier, here to do a job. I would appreciate being given the space to do it and not being crowded by what other people think or believe. To hell with that. In answer to your request – I shall conduct myself according to regulations and what you, Captain Anthony, and my other superior officers expect of me. I hope I can expect the same from you. The fewer people know about this, the better. I would rather my situation was not well known. Hopefully, you can grant me that much.”

Anthony and Calvin looked at each other, and each raised an eyebrow.

* * * *

“Platoon, atten – shun!”

Forty-one pairs of boots responded. Andrew Richards cast his eyes over the soldiers in front of him.

“At ease. First order of business is to introduce your new L2. This is Jackie Damascus, who will be replacing Paul Williams, who, as you know, was killed on active service. Treat her as you would any other newcomer. Gently. At first. Second. The following have been selected for further classes in self-defence and unarmed combat: Richardson, Travis, and White. These, and any other soldier wishing to improve these particular skills, should attend the gym at twenty hundred hours today. That’s it. Ten minutes, outside, early morning run. Let’s go.”

Richards watched as the platoon dispersed, then turned to Damascus.

“Care to join us for a run in the country?”

Damascus grinned. “Love to.”

* * * *

Sheathed in sweat from head to foot, breathing heavily. Legs aching. Mark Travis, twenty-one years old, trotted down the hillside, trying to keep up with the rest of the platoon. He was also trying to keep the new second lieutenant in view. He narrowed his eyes.

Nice. Very nice. Tight waist, great rear view. If she hadn’t been his boss, his superior, he would have been attracted. But he knew that was the last thing on her mind. She was the new second lieutenant. Second in command.

He had a feeling there was not much good coming from this.

He knew he wasn’t a perfect soldier. No one was going to hold Mark Travis up as an example of perfect first-class soldiering. He wondered what tonight’s training session with the new second in command was going to bring forth.

Probably nothing good.

Nothing really good had happened since he had joined the army.

* * * *

Angela White was having problems. At twenty years old, this was the only real life she had ever known. She knew she was running away from something, something which was bugging her in civilian life, something which had no shape or form. This was the only place she had ever felt at home. She narrowed her eyes, looked ahead, saw the new officer, jogging a few paces ahead.

She could feel a heat rising. Somewhere she didn’t need it.

Or want it.

Oh, God.

Those feelings again. She had had feelings like this before, and had always pushed them down. This time, it was not going to be quite as easy to do it. She was beautiful, no other word for it. Maybe it was finally time to admit what she was.

Come clean about her preferences.

“You’re a lesbian, White. Face it. You like girls.” She huffed out a hard breath. “Shit.”

“Talking to yourself, Angela?” Another soldier grinned at her.

“Best conversation all day.” she replied, not meeting his eyes.

He nodded. “Nice.”

Nowhere left to run.

Why did it have to be a superior officer who woke it all up again? Why was Second Lieutenant Jacqueline Damascus so damned attractive? Why did her breasts refuse to lie still under her uniform? She closed her eyes for a moment. All she could see was perfect grey eyes. Beautiful…

Damn it all!

She continued running, slamming one foot into the ground, then another, trying to trample her feelings into the dusty soil. It didn’t work. It didn’t even come close. The heat rose further. Why didn’t it go away?

There would only be one thing to do, and that would be both embarrassing and probably contrary to more than one Army regulation. She would have to try it on with the new arrival.

That would be unthinkable. The heat was becoming unbearable. She began to swear under her breath, then chastised herself for her unladylike behaviour. She smiled.

* * * *

The Spanish soldier stepped off the bus, headed towards the gate.

“Good morning. I am here to see Captain Anthony.”

“Name?”

“Tanis Garcia Cortez.”

“You’re expected. Look into the retina scanner, please.”

Cortez did as she was asked, and the soldier nodded. “Excellent.” He stepped back into the booth, spoke into a commset, and then nodded. “Captain Anthony will send a driver for you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

Cortez glanced around. It looked much the same as any other army base, drab buildings, and people walking around. Much the same as bases in Spain.

The new international look. Army base chic.

She smiled slightly, shook her head, wondering if army bases all over the world looked exactly the same.

An electric car pulled up behind her, and she turned.

“Garcia Cortez?”

“Yes.”

“I am Seconds Lieutenant Richards, Captain Anthony’s assistant. He has asked me to pick you up, and take you to his office. Dump your bag in the back, and we’ll go.”

“Okay.”

Ten seconds later, they were on their way.

* * * *

“This is the PLC-1 heavy laser weapon. The beam is adjustable to three levels. It can also fire energy in the form of a ball. It is equipped with a target lock. This means that you can locate your target, pull the trigger to the first stop, and then open your eyes so that if a good guy walks across your line of sight, you don’t blow them away by mistake. If your target moves, the weapon will follow automatically, without further help from you. Strip and rebuild time: one minute forty-five seconds or less. My personal best? One minute nineteen. I want to see how good you people are. See how close you can get.”

Damascus cast an eye over the twenty people in front of her. Half the platoon. She lifted the stopwatch from her pocket, glanced down.

“Okay. Three… two… one… go!”

Angela White frowned slightly, recalling the sequence. Remove the stock. Remove the power pack. Release tracking mechanism. Release recoil compensator. Remove sightscreen. Remove tracking lock. Unscrew and remove barrel. Remove trigger unit.

Someone behind her swore.

Travis, probably. Getting himself into a mess, again. Some people seemed destined to fail.

Remove handgrip sensor.

Stripped.

Rebuild.

Replace handgrip sensor. Replace trigger unit. Replace and tighten barrel. Replace and tighten tracking lock. Replace sightscreen. Replace tracking module. Replace power pack. Replace stock. Angela stood back, raised an arm. Damascus nodded. Other arms raised until there was only one soldier still working.

Travis.

Five seconds later, he raised his hand.

“I have good news and bad news. White, your time was excellent. Travis, more practice. Two weeks to get your time down. Understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Don't let me down. Ask White to give you a hand. She might help, if you ask her nicely enough.”

Travis glanced at the girl, who frowned, nodded.

“Gym hall, double time. Let’s go.”

As she started to run alongside the group of soldiers, the second group caught up, overtook, each soldier firing a salute. Finally, Sergeant Corbett caught up, slowed to her pace.

“Lieutenant.”

“Sergeant. Good session?”

“Some good, some not so good. No real problems.”

“Good to hear it. Travis is the only real problem. Very, very slow.”

“I am not surprised to hear it. What are you going to do about him?”

“I have asked White to give him a hand in getting his strip and rebuild time on the PLC-1 down. She’s good, only a few seconds behind mine. Do you think she is command material?”

“I’m not sure.” Corbett shook his head. “She’s been here about a year, keeping to herself, applying for all the courses she can. She’s a damned hard little worker.”

“Do you think she is command material?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t take any nonsense, though. A couple of guys in the platoon, and others, have come on to her, and she has said no in no uncertain terms.”

“Tough lady.”

“An accurate assessment. She is not going to let anyone walk all over her.”

“Okay. I’ll arrange to have her talk to me sometime in the next week. I’m getting the feeling she’s wasted in her current position. If I think she’s up to it, I’ll send her on to Lieutenant Richards.”

“Roger that, ma’am.”

“Jon?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“On exercise, or in private, you may call me Jack. Ma’am is for other ranks.”

“Roger that.”

“In the meantime, let’s see what the other guys are up to, shall we?”

* * * *

“Enter”

The door opened, and Anthony stood. “Ah. Garcia Cortez?”

“Yes, Captain.” The salute was brief, as was the handshake.

“Welcome. Take a seat.”

“Gracias.”

“How much English do you speak?”

“I speak the language, but the little sayings, most go over my head.”

“But your basic day-to-day English is okay?”

“No real problems.”

“Good enough for me. I speak no Spanish at all, so we will have to stick to English, if that’s okay.”

“Is okay with me, Captain.” Smile.

“Want to learn to speak it better?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Your record speaks highly of your abilities and skill level. Electrical repairs, electronics systems. We have only one tech in this company, and she is being sorely tested at the moment. She could really do with the help. I think you’ll slot in quite nicely, here.” Anthony leant forward, tapped a button on his desk. “Lieutenant Richards, have Corporal White paged to join me, would you, please?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would you care for a coffee, Cortez?”

“Yes, please. Black, single sugar.”

“We have artificial sweetener here, I’m afraid. Sugar has been banned a long time, here.”

“In Spain, too, but it is a hard habit to break.”

“You’re right, there. Now, if they could get sweeteners to taste just like sugar, they’d be on to something.”

“They would.” Cortez accepted the cup from Anthony, took a sip, nodded. “Not too bad.”

“I should hope it’s a little better than not too bad. I pay almost black market price for it. The stuff they supply here is little better than rubbish. I keep trying to improve the coffee, but so far, precious little effect. I don’t know what I have to do to get through. Maybe it’s time to give it up and just live with low-quality coffee. Maybe I just have too many standards.”

“Maybe standards are good. Sometimes.”

“Other times, they just get in the way of having a good time.”

The knock on the door interrupted.

“Enter.”

The door opened.

“You asked to see me, Captain?”

“Corporal White. Come in. I’d like you to meet private Tanis Garcia Cortez, who is joining us for six months.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tanis. tal?” White smiled, extended a hand.

“You speak Spanish?” Cortez smiled slightly, frowned.

“You just heard all I know. Good to meet you.”

“Likewise. The captain tells me you are going to be holding my hand for a while.”

“Really?” White nodded. “Okay.”

“Just until she finds her feet. You up for it, White?”

“Yes, Captain. Thank you for asking me.”

“You’re the only one with the skills. I had no choice. Treat her nice and gently. For a while.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any questions?”

“No, sir.” A pair of shaking heads.

“Good. Dismiss.”