Chapter 21

Aindry took a seat and looked around. The auditorium was filled with Drill Sergeants, and it made his skin crawl.

“A-ten-tion.” Someone across the room called the assembly to order.

Aindry stood with the rest of the sergeants.

General Park entered and made his way to the lectern. “As you were, gentlemen.”

What the green, fragrant fuck?

“We have an unprecedented training opportunity before us. General Farland has ordered a joint exercise, to take place in two weeks' time.”

Rumbles went around the room. “Two weeks?” “Bullshiiit.”

“Shut your holes.” Aindry roared. This was probably something related to Kang. More trouble by the sound of it. The room went quiet again.

“Thank you, Sergeant Aindry,” Park said. “Obviously, this is out of the ordinary. We have four platoons of trainees about to enter Blue Phase, and four platoons just entering White Phase. These units will form the core of our defense.”

“The assault force will be comprised of six platoons of White Phase trainees from Camp Roald.”

“Marines, sir?” someone in the front row interrupted.

“That’s right, sergeant. Marines. Marine trainees supported by a contingent of experienced sharpshooters,” Park said. Around the room men shifted in their seats and exchanged unhappy glances. “We will meet them from a prepared position. They will have limited mobility, as the assault force is infantry only.” A hand went up, and General Park pointed to the man.

“What is the point of this exercise, General?”

“To test our capabilities, Sergeant. The marines are our premier assault force. The army is our best option for containing a marine assault.” Mutters went around the room, and General Park stepped from behind the lectern to address the men more directly. “This exercise has a surprise element. It is not a waste of our time, despite being a departure from our normal training routine.”

They want to take Kang’s leash off and see what he can do.

“Surprise, sir?”

“That’s right, a surprise. All parties have been warned to expect something out of the ordinary. You should pass that warning on to your trainees.”

The briefing went on for some time, with the general showing slides of maps and emplacements along one edge of Fort Vodun. Aindry half paid attention. The briefing itself was all familiar. He knew the base and the maps, and the rules of the exercise were only strange in that they included another branch.

When they were dismissed, he got up and walked down the hall, giving one-syllable answers to anyone who greeted him. When he exited the building General Park called his name.

“Sergeant Aindry, a moment.”

“Yes, sir,” Aindry said. He followed the general a few paces across the lawn, where they would not be overheard.

“I have special orders for you, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir. You want me to order Kang to work alone and to cause as much damage as possible.”

Park smiled. “Close. I want you to order him to work alone and to take out the assault force’s command structure.”

“Yes, sir.”

“General Kittering will command the marines.”

Aindry stiffened. “Kittering? Commanding an exercise for trainees, sir? Will you be commanding the defense?”

“No, Sergeant. Private Wallace Hunter will command the defense. He has the best tactical scores in this cycle.” Park clasped his hands behind his back.

“We’re pitting a four-week basic trainee named Wrongway against a decorated assault commander?” Aindry felt his face go through a series of expressions, but he couldn’t figure out which one to use.

“That’s right, Sergeant. Tell Private Kang the odds. Then give him his mission.”

“Yes, General.”

* * *

They spent two weeks drilling. Chun found it a pleasant change of pace. For once attention was focused on something useful. They drilled on preventing enemy forces from entering buildings, they practiced overlapping fields of fire, and spent hours learning how to use wax training rounds safely.

Everyone was tired after a day of drilling, which made it much easier for Chun to refresh his beer supply, and with a couple of minor exceptions he went two weeks without being punished. A week before the exercise Aindry announced that Wrongway would be leading their forces. There was some applause from the rest of the platoon, but Wrongway looked like he might throw up.

Aindry spent the next week glued to Wrongway, teaching him how to rotate men on and off of a line, how to advance and fall back under fire, how to retrieve their wounded, and so on. Chun watched the preparations with humor. It was clear to him that an unscheduled exercise meant they were going to focus the pressure on him at some point, but Aindry offered no clues to the specifics.

Without specific guidance, he focused on training with their simulation rounds. The wax bullets were not as accurate as lead, but he found that by paying attention to wind direction and distance he could still hit the range targets more-or-less reliably.

The evening before the exercise they prepared their field kits and marched out to the fortifications to sleep. When they arrived, Aindry pulled Chun and Wrongway aside.

“Hunter, you already know your job. What you don’t know is how hard it’s going to be. The opposing force commander will be General Kittering.”

Wrongway’s eyes bulged. “The General Kittering?”

“That’s right,” Aindry said. “You need to remember that this is not a complicated maneuver-based operation. He has the same troops you have, with the exception of a team of scout snipers.”

“Scout snipers?” Wrongway said. “What do we get to make any of that fair?”

“Warfare isn’t about fair, private. You’re supposed to find an advantage and then exploit the hell out of it,” Aindry said.

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“What advantages do I have that counter a general?”

“You have more men,” Chun said. “About a third more. He must take your fortified positions, with a smaller force. You fight for time and for space, and you bleed him of men until he doesn’t have any left.”

“That is exactly what you do,” Aindry said.

“Against General Kittering and a bunch of snipers?” Wrongway’s skin was paler than usual.

“Yes,” said Chun.

“You do have one other advantage,” Aindry said, pointing at Chun. “Tomorrow, when contact is made, you will order Private Kang to infiltrate the enemy lines and disable their command structure to the best of his ability.”

“I will work alone, Drill Sergeant?” Chun wasn’t sure if he believed his good luck.

“That’s right,” Aindry said.

“Move at my own pace, pick my own targets?”

“Exactly.”

“Do I have to wait?” Chun smiled and rubbed his hands together. “If you let me go now, I can kill all of them by sunrise.”

Aindry raised an eyebrow. “I like your attitude, but the rules of engagement say this is a surprise attack. You can’t start making countermoves until contact is made.”

Chun nodded. “This is going to be fun.”

“Get some sleep,” Aindry said. “We need both of you at your best tomorrow.”

“Yes, Drill Sergeant.”

They walked back to their unit and rolled up their blankets. Chun focused on Wrongway for a few minutes, decided the kid wasn’t going to fall asleep on his own and slipped out of his blanket. Wrongway started when Chun put his palm on Wrongway’s forehead, but then Chun smoothed the eddies and swirls from Wrongway’s breath, and within seconds the boy was snoring.

Chun went back to his blanket, focused on Wrongway, decided the boy would stay asleep, and then he went to sleep himself.

* * *

“Wrongway, Wrongway, get up. Contact. Contact. They’re here.” Robins shook Wrongway awake. Chun stood up, tied his boots, and collected his gear. Wrongway was having trouble getting himself together, so Chun put a hand on the back of his neck.

Calm. Focus.

Wrongway snatched up his gear and ran toward the forward emplacements. Chun trotted along beside him, and Robins followed. They reached their command center about fifty yards later. Talent pointed to muzzle flashes beyond the right side of their line.

“They’re concentrating their forces on that side,” he said. “We should send reinforcements.”

Chun leaned in to whisper in Wrongway’s ear. “It’s a feint. You should appear to reinforce it.”

Wrongway nodded and cracked his knuckles. “Kang, it’s time. Infiltrate their lines and do whatever you can to damage their command structure.”

“Yes, Private Hunter,” Chun said, then turned and disappeared into the darkness.

It was about two thirty, and Chun was grateful for the opportunity to get his bearings under the cover of night. Since the enemy was feinting at their right side, he went right.

Flanking the two squads of marines was laughably easy. They fired their rifles at anything they thought was movement, and peered around in the dark, trying to see if any of the army wimps were trying to sneak up on them. Chun killed eight of them with his wax knife, leaving them laying on the ground to enjoy being dead while everyone else participated.

Once they noticed that some of their fellows were down, the alarm went out. Chun faded toward the rear of their lines, leaving them to beat the bushes and swear about army cowards.

Yes, but this army coward has two grenades now.

A few hundred yards downrange he circled, aiming to approach their main body from behind. With his breath spread in a wide net around him he slipped through the shrubs and tall grass, looking for the scouts. It didn’t take him long to find the first two. They were laying on their bellies, in a depression about a third of the way down the hill.

Good position.

Chun cut their throats, then slipped away to find the next pair.

Something had alerted the next team. They crouched at the base of a small tree, hidden in the foliage, with one man looking forward and the other back. It took ten minutes, but Chun inched up on them until he was in arm’s reach, then slashed their femoral arteries. One of them cheated and tried to shoot Chun, despite his mortal wound, so Chun took his rifle away and bent it in half. Then he faded into the scrubland to the merry sound of their cursing.

The next pair had split up. Chun slit one man’s throat while he was relieving himself, then killed his partner the same way.

He found two more walking toward this position, with no attempt at stealth. Chun slipped up on them and found a marine major, accompanied by a corporal. Both had the bright yellow arm and hat bands of referees, so Chun let them live.

“Keep going another thirty yards,” he whispered into the major’s ear.

“God damn.” the major fell away in shock. The corporal grabbed at a flashlight hanging from his belt. Chun put a hand over the corporal’s hand.

“No lights,” he said.

“Army?” the major quickly collected himself and whispered.

“Yes, sir,” Chun said, “Private Kang. I’ve killed six snipers. Just keep going and you’ll find two of them.”

Chun slipped into the scrub, searching for the next set of snipers. They clearly knew something was wrong. They had rallied with another team, and the four of them had occupied a hollow where a huge boulder had pulled out from the hillside long ago, leaving a nook large enough for the snipers to shelter behind the edges of the boulder. There was no way for Chun to get behind any of them.

He pulled one of his stolen grenades, yanked the pin, and lobbed it over the pair nearest him. With his breath focused on them he could sense all four turn toward the grenade just before it went off with a surprisingly loud pop. White dust coated everything, and all four men lay down to play dead.

Chun found one more pair on the far edge of the exercise area. The sky was bright enough now to worry about being seen, though dawn was still some time off. They had set a trap using a grenade, but Chun spotted the bit of string across the most obvious approach to their hide. He slipped up, took the trap apart, and then crawled forward until he was only a few yards from them. Then he carefully reset the trap.

He reversed course and crawled back the way he came, and when he reached the spot where the trap had been, he went uphill twenty yards, pulled the pin on his remaining grenade, and threw it down to the trap’s old position.

Pop. A cloud of white smoke rose from the scrub.

“Fuck yeah, we got one.” one of the snipers said. Both of them started toward the exploded grenade, then yelled in surprise as their trap went off, coating both of them in white powder. He left them there to enjoy their quiet time and slipped in toward the battle.

That is half of the snipers they were supposed to have. The others must be working from close range.

The closer he got to the battle the more difficult it was to find suitable cover. Dawn was minutes away, and the eastern sky was streaked with red and yellow. Chun weighed his options. Their uniforms were very similar. The only substantive difference was the black band on Chun’s arm vs the red bands on all of the marines. Chun stood up, slung his rifle, and trotted forward, making no effort to hide.

After a couple of minutes, he found the marine ammunition dump. Four men ran to the stacks of green ammunition cans, and each one grabbed a pair, then quick-marched back toward their lines. Chun walked up to the dump and looked around.

Where are the guards?

Since no one was there, he refreshed his supply of grenades, then lashed a grenade to the ammunition and worked the pin until it was close to releasing. Last he got some string from his kit, tied one end to the pin and moved back into the scrub, unwinding at least sixty feet of string.

A pair of men walked into view, and Chun unslung his rifle. Both of them held their left arms up, showing the yellow bands. Referees. Chun pulled the string, snapped off the loose part, and dropped the rest in a pocket.

Boom.

“Did he just blow up our ammo dump?”

“Looks like. General’s going to be pleased.”

Chun trotted over a tiny hill and spotted Kittering. The general was much closer to the fighting than he had expected. Chun surveyed the situation and slipped into cover at the base of a shrub covered in stinky yellow flowers.

I could snipe the general. That is probably the best course.

He brought his rifle into position and looked down the sights. Someone ran past Chun’s position and shouted, “They’ve taken our ammo dump.”

General Kittering responded immediately. “Second squad, third squad, we have been flanked. Keep your eyes open, and retake that ammo.”

Chun watched two dozen marines form up and move out past his position. He scanned the area. He could hear men firing and shouting about seventy-five yards to his left, and he could see men fighting about a hundred yards beyond the general, but right now the only person guarding the general was a flaky messenger.

Kittering looked up the line past Chun, then turned his back to study the men farther away. Chun stretched his breath to its maximum, then slipped out of hiding and trotted up to the messenger. The kid was so overawed by the general that he didn’t even turn around. Chun cut his throat, and Kittering turned just in time for Chun to rub the blade of his wax knife on the general’s forehead.

“You’re unconscious, sir,” Chun said. “I knocked you out.”

“Shit,” Kittering said, and allowed Chun to sling him over a shoulder.

Getting away turned out to be easy. Chun skirted behind the fighting to the weak side of the battlefield, then abandoned cover to trot toward friendly lines. A sentry on their side nearly shot him, but the marines never noticed.

They passed Wrongway on the way to their command post. He was down with his troops, next to the battle.

A mistake. He needs to keep his head up, so he doesn’t lose track of the overall situation.

But as mistakes went, it wasn’t awful. They were clearly winning.

“Private Hunter,” Chun said.

Wrongway turned and his eyes got big. “Is that General Kittering?”

“Yes, Private,” Chun said. “I have brought you a prisoner of war. What would you like me to do with him?”

“Take him to our command post. General Park and General Farland are there,” Wrongway said. Unease rolled off of him in waves when he said the word general.

Chun trotted to the command post, where a pair of sentries checked him and his guest, then let them in. Chun set General Kittering down gently, then stood and saluted General Park and General Farland.

“Private Hunter ordered me to bring the captive to you, General Park,” Chun said.

“Thank you, Private Kang, exemplary work,” Park said, failing to suppress a grin.

Kittering greeted Park and Farland, then turned to Chun. “Private, you have publicly humiliated me, and cost me my perfect operational record.”

Chun froze, unsure what to say.

“Well, Private?” Kittering prompted.

“My friend has your book, Tactical Maneuver Under Fire, in his footlocker, General Kittering,” Chun said. “I have read it, and it is excellent. If you are going to be here long enough, would you autograph his copy?”

“God damn, boy, you have some big steel balls on you.” Kittering said. “I’ll be here through tomorrow. If you can get his copy to me, of course I’ll sign it.”

Wrongway is going to love this.