Backing away as requested, she took in the full view of the grounds. It looked like a war zone, a miniaturized, lifelike rendering of that which could be found in historical Civil War-era photographs. The razed colonial homes of Richmond, Charlottesville, and Fredericksburg, Virginia. Ruins of plantations set ablaze and hand-erected buildings crushed by cannon fire in Columbia, South Carolina, Atlanta and Savannah. And all the churches, cathedrals and religious meeting houses mindlessly reduced to ashes in those days.
She circled the lot and found that almost every one of the unit’s vehicles and transports parked near the building had sustained extensive damage, failing one. At the far end, pulled as close to the trees as it could go, sat the only vehicle left relatively unscathed. Richie was seated on its hood, his uniform stained, torn and in disarray. His arms drew his knees into his chest, and his head rested inside his forearms, shrouding his face.
Lauren started toward him, but Woo Tang got there first. A dialogue between them began, and Richie lifted his head to expose a mug covered in dirt and grime, riven by lines of white skin stretching from his eyes to his jawline. He’d been crying. She further closed the distance, arriving in time to hear one of Woo Tang’s terse inquiries.
“Casualties?”
Richie sniffled and shook, pointing to where he had relocated the fallen and covered them with woolen blankets. “Five,” he grieved. “Five, Chief. I dragged five men out of that mess, including myself. No idea how, but I did. And they’re all dead…all five of them, dead!” One by one, he rattled off their names and ranks in a tone as flustered as his appearance. “It should’ve been half-dozen, but I made it. Me. I was the only one…and I don’t know why. Why did I live and they didn’t?”
Woo Tang gripped Richie’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Certain questions were designed to be unanswerable for reasons beyond our comprehension. That is the way of things. You endured, and they did not because nature determined it so.” A pause. “Stand fast, warrior. I need you in the fight.”
Richie sighed and wiped his eyes. “I’m trying, Chief. I’m trying.”
Lauren was stunned; she had never seen Richie this way. He’d never once openly displayed his emotions in this manner, and this abrupt unpretentiousness was out of character, making him appear almost normal to her.
Both radios were chattering off at the same time in Woo Tang’s hands, and he backstepped away while laboring to interact with both. The smaller handheld Lauren had given him, while virtually silent before, with its volume still at its highest setting, had become the rowdiest. Whatever he and Will Sharp had spoken about, whatever information had been conveyed between them, had ignited a tumultuous round of questioning from numerous insistent voices, each representing an anxiously inquiring mind. The transmissions were received one on top of the other, almost concurrently at times, transforming the voices into an unreadable garble of buzzing and squawking.
Woo Tang tried breaking through the pile-up to call for Will, but when he unkeyed, the contorted mess persisted, and in the end, no one could hear anyone else. Fred’s brusque voice pushed through at times, attempting to slice through the chaotic jumble and regain control, though nothing came of it.
Then Woo Tang perceived a split second of intermission. He clamped down on the Baofeng’s transmit button with vigor in the same manner he would his M4’s trigger during a follow-up shot. “Break, break!” He unkeyed, waited one second, then pressed again. “I say again, break, break!” He unkeyed again, this time a few seconds longer, and waited, noting that the channel had cleared. “All stations, this is Command. I need all stations to stand by. I say again, stand by. A potentially catastrophic situation is developing, and priority traffic must take precedence.”
The channel went terminally silent. Woo Tang called for Will, who came back to him without delay. He relayed his damage and casualty report in a proficient, succinct manner.
A long period passed before hearing back. “Jesus. Acknowledged, Chief. Copy your five KIA and one FOL total loss. Anything further to advise? Over.”
“I have teams deploying for recon and damage assessment at this time. Remain where you are until you hear further. That is all.”
“Roger, received. Five KIA unit casualties for a total of eight, that’s number eight my count, along with three civilians…”
Lauren took notice in a flash, her lips parting.
“That’s three my count…”
Woo Tang watched her, his gaze cautious and circumspect.
“Can you confirm my readback, Chief?”
“Three civilians,” said Lauren, attempting to urge him along.
The former frogman held the radio close, his eyes cutting into slits, hesitating to respond.
“Are you going to ask him who?”
“Are you still there, Chief?” Will’s voice surged through the speaker.
Lauren tilted her head angrily. “Jae?”
Woo Tang tightened his eyelids and looked deep into the passionate, shaken-up eyes across from him. “Your…readback is confirmed. Command out.” He lowered the radio. “I am sorry. Will cannot advise.”
“No shit he didn’t advise,” Lauren fired back. “I’m standing right here. I heard everything.” She made a play to retrieve the Baofeng.
Woo Tang twisted, putting himself between her and the device. “That is not what I said—I said he cannot advise!” he thundered. “Nor will he, out of respect for those listening.”
A sinking feeling drilled into Lauren’s soul with the strength and sharpness of an auger. Her stomach felt weighted down by liquid iron. The term civilians indicated these were people she knew. They were neighbors. Friends. That instant, she went bright red in the face and sprinted to
