Part 30 (1/2)
”Thank you, Jake. Even if it is for being the last man standing.”
A simple misunderstanding
Bowman leaves the office and sees the NCOs waiting for his return, nursing their coffee mugs and murmuring among themselves in the open office area.
”All right,” he says, returning to the map. ”That was Immunity. I have new orders direct from General Kirkland. We have been given a mission.”
The NCOs settle down, watching him with expressions that are suddenly wary and suspicious. It suddenly strikes him in a flash of insight that Second Battalion was probably offered the mission first. Lieutenant Colonel Rose accepted it. Then his men, seeing such a mission as suicide for themselves, rebelled and shot him.
Ironically, Rose probably would have ordered First Battalion to take on the mission and kept his battalion out of it, since the mission objective is in Manhattan. But before the Colonel could delegate the mission to Bowman's people, his men killed him.
A simple misunderstanding.
After that, Major General Kirkland turned to one 2LT Bowman and appointed him commander of the Brigade.
There's a lesson here. He would have to tread carefully.
”Our mission involves a research facility located on the west side.” He stabs the map with his index finger. ”Right about here. Can everybody see? We're going to this facility to secure a group of scientists and help them evacuate the city.”
”Uh, LT, sir?” asks one of the sergeants from Third Platoon. ”With all respect, that sounds like suicide, don't it?”
”We're going to make it to that facility with no casualties if I can help it,” Bowman says, looking the man in the eye. ”We're going at night, which will help. By the way, it's Captain, not LT. I was promoted and placed in command of the Battalion.”
Actually, he was placed in command of the Brigade, but the whole thing-a 2LT being promoted to head a brigade-sounds too ridiculous even to him.
”Congratulations on your promotion, sir,” another sergeant from Third Platoon says. ”But going out at night is definitely suicide. We saw that the other night. The ma.s.sacre happened after the blackout.”
”Actually, the blackout probably saved what was left of the companies from being completely wiped out,” Bowman answers. ”And the survivors made it all the way here, mostly unharmed, using their NVGs. We're going to do the same for this mission.”
Some of the NCOs nod at this.
”We can't silence our weapons, though,” another sergeant says. ”You shoot off a few rounds in this town, and every Mad Dog in the place comes swarming at you from everywhere at the gallop.”
”We won't be firing our weapons,” Bowman says.
”Sir?”
”We'll be making our way with the bayonet.”
The NCOs guffaw and whistle in respect. The plan has b.a.l.l.s. They just might make it.
Bishop raises his hand. ”Sir? I have a question. Why are we risking our necks at all? The Army is abandoning us here. Technically, we're on our own.”
Bowman frowns. ”We're not being abandoned. We're going to be-” ”All I'm saying is we're safe here and we should consider whether the risk is worth our lives.”
Bowman shakes his head. He does not want to argue with Bishop in front of the NCOs. But they have a right to know what's at stake.
”I'll tell you why this mission is important,” says the Captain. ”This team of research scientists has found a cure to the Mad Dog disease. And there's a helicopter ride out of here for us when the mission is completed. We're going with the scientists.”
”With all respect, sir, that's bulls.h.i.+t,” Bishop says. ”I'm not buying it.” The NCOs gasp at the breach of discipline between officers in front of enlisted men, then begin murmuring-some against Bishop, some for him.
”He's right!” one of the sergeants from Bravo says.
”I'm not going out there again,” a sergeant from Delta mutters.
”Even if we get out of here, they're just going to use us like cannon fodder in some other city. You know?”
”Embrace the suck, gentlemen.”
”Shut up and listen to the CO!”
”I say call a vote!”
”I'm only asking a fair question, Todd,” Bishop says. ”We've been lied to too many times already, and it's gotten too many good men killed.”
Kemper roars, silencing them all, ”You will address him as *Captain' or *sir,' Lieutenant! And you will not argue with the Captain or question his orders in front of enlisted personnel. That means shut the h.e.l.l up right now!”
Bowman glowers at both of them, barely containing his rage. ”Both of you get out of here. Get out of my sight. Now. I'll deal with you later.”
”Yes, sir,” Kemper says. ”Sorry for my outburst, sir.”
As he pa.s.ses Bowman, he winks.
Bowman is almost too stunned to understand, but then he gets it. Kemper knew that Bowman did not need a champion to defend him, that what he needed was for his people to respect his authority and obey his orders. Kemper showed the NCOs that he obeys Bowman, while also silencing Bishop by immediately ending the public debate.
”We are not a boys club,” the Captain tells the sergeants. ”We do not vote. You are either in the Army and you follow orders in a chain of command that goes all the way up to the President of the United States, or you are a deserter and sc.u.m. Understand?”
”Yes, sir,” the NCOs answer.
”Now listen up. This is important. If we weren't going out on this mission, we'd still be going out to retrieve supplies from H&S, or sit here and starve. The NVGs are either going to get us there or we are returning here. After we complete the mission, the Army will lift us somewhere else that's safer than being in the middle of the most densely populated city in the G.o.dd.a.m.n country. Not to mention a deathtrap, since the Air Force has started blowing the bridges in a crazy attempt to prevent the Mad Dogs here from migrating. d.a.m.n, in just a month or two, what you see outside the window today might be considered the good old days of peace and plenty. I think, given the facts on the ground, this mission is our best and only real option for long-term survival. Hooah?”
”Hooah,” the NCOs answer, some louder than others. Some not at all.
”We step off at zero four,” says Bowman. ”Be ready, gentlemen. That is all.”
One of you is a traitor
The boys of First Squad, Second Platoon immediately start grumbling as they wake up in the darkness. By the time they get out of their sleeping bags, s.h.i.+vering in the night air that has grown increasingly colder over the past few days-this being the first week of October-they have progressed from b.i.t.c.hing to full-fledged whining.
A lot of soldiers are gung ho for the cool stuff that happens here and there in the service, and constantly gripe and moan about everything else that happens in between. But this is real dissent. They were just getting comfortable here and starting to feel like they might be able to wait this thing out and come out the other end alive. They have food, water, electricity, heat, security in this place. A few of the platoon's Casanovas even found the time, amidst the endless hard work, to strike up relations.h.i.+ps with women in the building.
Mooney was the only one not surprised when Sergeant McGraw told them last night that they were bugging out. He had already sensed the change in the air. He saw the signs and portents and understood that n.o.body was going to make it out of this thing without intense suffering. The TV stations going off the air one by one. Paper money only having value as kindling. The complete breakdown of distribution systems for food, medicine and clothing. The rumors of Army units simply taking their guns and walking off the job.