His comm expert raised an eyebrow. “Talk about burning the candle at both ends,” he said dryly.
“Forget that,” Kersey replied, rubbing his cheek. “I’m pretty sure at this point I’ve just chucked that whole motherfucker right into the fire.”
David chuckled as he watched Kersey down the rest of his coffee in a single Gulp and set the cup on the table.
“So, what’s the status?” the Captain asked.
David took a slurp of his own brew, “The Mercer Island planes have returned and are getting prepped for when we need them next,” he replied.
“Any word from the Mercer Island team?” Kersey asked.
His companion shook his head. “Not yet,” he said, “but I really wasn’t expecting to by this point. The first boats aren’t scheduled to hit the island for another couple of hours. If they haven’t made contact by then, I’ll start reaching out.”
“Good,” Kersey replied with a nod, and swiveled in his chair towards the window. “So, how are we looking outside?”
David pulled a rolled up stack of papers from the side pocket of his pants. “The attack force for…” he paused to check over his notes, “the Redmond suburb on the far east side of things are gearing up. Buses looked primed and ready to go, so it isn’t going to be long before they head out.”
“Were you able to locate the people Corporal Bretz needed?” Kersey asked, taking another long sip of coffee.
His companion nodded. “Yes, but it wasn’t easy.”
“What is these days?” The Captain sighed.
“I was able to find three Privates, Hess, Short, and Kent,” David explained. “All three have seen combat either in Spokane or the last week as we moved up here. And all three have truck driving experience.”
Kersey nodded. “That’s…” he paused, stifling a huge yawn and shaking his head to fight it off. “That’s fantastic work.”
“Captain,” David said slowly, lowering his papers, “I know all the details of the mission for Bretz and his team. I would be more than happy to present it while you find your legs there.”
Kersey stared down into the empty bottom of his mug and shook his head. “Yeah, let’s find a refill and then go talk to him.”
“Don’t worry,” his friend replied with a smirk, “I got the pot hidden.”
The Captain laughed and wagged a finger at him. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
CHAPTER TWO
Corporal Bretz, Private Mason, and Private Baker fiddled with their gear as their three new team members approached.
Private Kent straightened, reaching them first. “Are you Corporal Bretz?” he asked.
The Corporal didn’t look up from his gear. “Yep,” he replied flatly as he packed up several days worth of MREs.
The three newcomers shared nervous glances as they set their stuff down, taken aback by the lack of acknowledgment.
“Oh, well,” Kent replied, running a hand over his bald head, “I’m Private Kent. This is Private Short, and Private Hess. We were told to report to you by some assistant to Captain Kersey.”
Bretz and his duo finally looked up, assessing the three soldiers that were easily in their early twenties.
“I wasn’t aware we were babysitting on this mission,” Baker said dryly.
Kent’s gaze darkened. “Hey now, we’ve seen action just like you boys have,” he snapped. “So drop the fucking attitude, will you?”
Baker clenched a fist and pointed a finger at the kid, “Now you listen here-”
Bretz put a hand out, smacking his palm into his subordinate’s chest. “I think what my friend here is saying,” he drawled, “is that he would feel a whole lot more comfortable knowing what kind of experience you have, since you’ll be watching his back and all.”
Short stepped forward, patting Kent’s shoulder to try to defuse him. “I did a tour in the sandbox,” he said.
Baker blinked, his annoyance melting away. “Wow,” he replied. “A whole tour?”
“Yeah, as a transport driver,” Short explained. “I’d be willing to bet I saw more IEDs go off in that one tour than you saw in however many you were there for. And if that’s not a good enough resume for you, I was on one of the decoy teams in Spokane, and I somehow walked away from Kansas City as well.”
Hess crossed his arms, voice level. “Two tours as a transport driver,” he began, “line fire team in Spokane, emergency rescue team in Kansas City.”
“Transport driver for a tour,” Kent said, raising his chin with a sneer, “wasn’t in K.C. but I was a part of the initial clear teams for the surrounding cities. Line fire team in Spokane.”
Short spread his arms. “Let’s put it this way,” he said, motioning to his companions, “if these were normals times, the military would have moved all three of us up the ranks a notch or two for our experience. But given how everything is fly by the seat of your pants insane at the moment, promotions have kind of taken a back seat to merely surviving the day.”
“So are we good enough for you?” Kent demanded. “Or should we go report to the grunt line?”
Mason and Bretz glanced at Baker, and he chuckled and nodded.
“Yeah, good enough for me,” he said, and stepped forward to shake hands with the youngsters. “I’m Baker, that’s Mason, and of course, that’s Corporal Bretz, who will be leading us through his particular suicide mission.”
Mason groaned. “I really wish you’d stop calling these suicide missions,” he protested. “If they were really suicide missions, we would have died a couple of weeks ago.”
“Not my fault I’m stubborn,” Baker shot back.
Mason scratched the back of his head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it is.”
The group shared a laugh as they continued to organize their gear. There was a large pile of MREs on the floor, along with ammo and other various items.
“Make sure you pack up plenty of rations,” Bretz instructed, “because if we pull this off, we’re going to be on our own for several days.”
Kent grimaced. “Oh good,” he drawled, “nothing like our very own
