ready.”
“Yes, sir,” came the laconic reply from the training NCO. Less than a minute later, the tall grass parted in a dozen spots arrayed in a semicircle to the front of the trainees and he could faintly hear the chatter of simulator rounds as the platoon of officer candidates scattered, some running, some hitting the ground, others standing where they were and returning fire. Only three did the correct thing: they charged into the ambush, laying down suppressive fire as they bounded forward. But there were too many attackers and eventually they were overwhelmed, the joints of their body armor locking up and freezing them in place when the lasers from the simulator guns hit the sensors built into the armor.
“All right,” Ari sighed, “let’s get down there for the After Action Review.”
He jumped into the open-topped utility groundcar, taking a seat beside the enlisted driver. Behind him, Captain Adedotun Odawale and First Lieutenant Alida Hudec climbed into the rear seats and the driver set off down the hill toward the ambush site. Odawale was a tall, somewhat gangly African male, his skin dark as ebony, his head clean-shaven and his eyes harsh and business-like. Hudec was a dark-haired, dark-eyed eastern European woman with an athlete’s build and piercing green eyes. Ari had just met them both yesterday, but his first impression was that they were professionals… probably more of Kage’s new breed.
By the time the groundcar arrived at the site, training NCOs were already freeing the officer candidates from their armor-induced paralysis and the thirty-six men and women were mostly resting on the ground, helmets in their laps, some gulping down water, others merely grumbling in low voices. The other platoon, the ambushers, was in much better spirits; laughing, trading stories and slapping each other on the back. Ari stepped into the midst of them, trailed by the other two officers.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, hands clasped behind him. “Can anyone tell me what the proper response to an ambush in open country is?”
One of the men in his platoon, a handsome young Argentine, raised his hand. “You are to assault through the ambush, Captain Al Masri.”
“That is correct, Candidate Matienzo. And you did just that, as did Candidates Calderon and Maathai. It didn’t work, however… because the rest of Fourth Training Platoon seems to have forgotten that lesson. At least a few of you bothered to return fire, although standing in the middle of an open field and returning fire is a quick form of suicide. The rest of you either hit the ground and hid or ran outright. Tell me, ladies and gentlemen, what do suppose the punishment is for doing such a thing in actual combat?”
Maathai raised his hand. “Court-martial and possibly execution, sir, if your actions caused the deaths of your fellow Guard troopers.”
Ari nodded. “At the very least, you would be kicked out of the Guard for good, and sent back to your homes with your tails between your legs, any respect you may have had now gone forever.” He spread his hands before him demonstratively. “You have only been here a few weeks. I can forgive a mistake… that can be rectified with training, with practice. I cannot forgive innate cowardice. We will forget this happened, just this once. If it happens again, those in question will be sent home and it will be a minimum of six months before they are again allowed to re-apply for training.” He looked them over, back and forth. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” came the disjointed mumble of replies.
“I said,” he barked, louder, “
“Yes, sir!” The response was louder and more uniform. He smiled thinly.
“You are tired,” he went on. “You are hungry. You are hot, your muscles ache, your weapons are heavy. You are not used to this. That is why you are here, my children. To
“Now,” Lieutenant Hudec stepped forward, “as for you, Third Platoon. You executed the ambush well… but when the three members of Fourth did the proper thing and assaulted into the ambush, how many casualties did you take? Candidate Ramirez?” She addressed the platoon leader.
“Five, ma’am,” the young man admitted. “Two dead.”
“And if more than three had assaulted, if they had been better organized, how many casualties do you think you would have received?”
“At least twice that, ma’am.”
“So tell me, how do you prevent that? How could you set up your ambush to prevent it?” Her question was met with silence. Finally, she looked to Ari. “Captain Al Masri, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“There are two ways,” he told them. “The first, and simplest, is to array your forces in an ‘L’ shape, so that to attack either arm of the ‘L’ requires exposing your flank to enemy fire. The other is to set up in a broad ‘V,’ which would do the same for both flanks. When you put the bulk of your ambushing force in one spot, as you did, you invite an assault and you have no counter to it.”
“So we see,” Captain Odawale spoke up for the first time, his voice clear and full, “that both the ambushers and the ambushed have made mistakes today. But do not allow this to frustrate you, or make you angry. This was not a test that you pass or fail, this was a lesson, as much as any you have received in the classroom or simulator, and it was meant to teach you. The tests will come, both here and later in the field, where to fail is death. Think on this and learn, and you will pass these tests.” He looked up, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand, towards the horizon and a cloud of dust raising on a dirt track. “And I see the transports are here, to take you back to the barracks.” That drew a ragged cheer from the trainees. “Platoon leaders, take charge of your platoons and load them onto the trucks. Weapons maintenance and then dinner.”
“And what are your plans for dinner, Captain?” Lieutenant Hudec asked him quietly as they watched Odawale see the troops loaded onto the vehicles.
He glanced at her with unfeigned curiosity in his eyes. “I had thought to take it in the Officer’s Mess,” he admitted.
“I know of a place in the city that has excellent Moroccan fare,” she smiled, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her face lit up when she smiled. “Do you like Moroccan food?”
“Surely I do, Lieutenant,” he smiled in return. “I would be most grateful if you would be willing to show me this place.”
“I have a flyer on call in the motor pool,” she told him. “Meet me there at 1800 hours… sir.”
“So, Lieutenant Hudec,” Ari said conversationally between bites of lamb, “tell me… how did you wind up as a trainer here?”
“We are away from the base,” she took a sip of wine. “Is it permissible to call me Alida?”
Ari watched the shadows of the candlelight play across her face, not conventionally beautiful but still alluring. “Yes, Alida,” he savored the name as it came off his lips. He was a bit surprised that he had to remind himself not to ask her to call him ‘Ari.’ “I would tell you to call me ‘Mohammed,’ but no one calls me that. My full name is Mohammed Abed Al-Masri, so back home they call me ‘Abed.’ But when I joined the Fleet Marines, my fellow officers all called me ‘Mo.’ This is not something a Muslim would do… you do not shorten the name Mohammed, it is disrespectful.” He shrugged. “I am not so religious as my parents, or especially my grandparents. Which is, I suppose, why I am here rather than in charge of the family fortune, as my elder brother is.” He smiled and lifted his wine glass, inclining it toward her. “You can call me ‘Mo.’”
She nodded, returned the toast and took a sip. “To answer your question, Mo, I came to be here because I embarrassed the hell out of my parents.”
He laughed sharply. “Ah, a direct woman. So, what did you do to scandalize the Hudec family?”
“I was a silly, teenage girl, in my first year at university, rebelling against my parents, who are career diplomats. I was smitten with a boy, who was a neo-Marxist.” She sighed. “I knew nothing of politics other than that he horrified my parents. Unfortunately, he had friends who were not hesitant to use violence to further their beliefs, and I was a convenient pawn. They attempted to kidnap me, to use me as a tool against my parents. It… did not end well for them. While young and stupid, I was not a helpless waif. I disarmed one of them and killed them all.”
