Krieger Platoon Page 6

  The silent stares from the trainees didn’t hide their distaste for the last part, PT every day.

  “Yo, I’m Staff Sergeant John Bergan, but you boys can call me Valor. Tank Commander from Massachusetts son!”

  “I’m Corporal Brian Murphy, but everyone calls me Alighten. Tank driver… I was from Detroit back in the day.”

  “Specialist Sarah Briar, but you can call me Miss Danger. I’m from Austin Texas and I’m the only smart one out of these losers.” Sarah said sarcastically and smirked toward the veterans.

  The veterans all chuckled for a moment, until Cholius cleared his voice loudly and took a step forward. “I’m Sergeant Major Josh Morijan, my call sign is Cholius. I’m the units senior most Non-Commissioned Officer. I’d like to continue with what Bag said; if you need someone to speak to in confidence about a personal issue, or whatever it may be, I’ll be here to help as best I can.”

  Two officers, one with a bright white medical coat over MDU pants, and the other in a brand new olive green flight suit, walked up from behind the veterans. Had they been there the whole time? The man in the flight suit spoke first. “Hello Krieger. I’m Major Johan Broz, but I go by Dade. Like Dade county Florida. I’m the Flight Operations Officer. I’ll be coordinating all the air missions and flights you’ll be aboard.”

  “And I’m Major Phil Lawrence. I’m the platoon’s medical officer along with Major Hammer, who you probably don’t know and won’t meet... I’m here to help as much as I can, but I swear to God if any of you come to my clinic complaining about a serious injury and there isn’t one, you will leave with a worse one than you thought you had!”

  The veterans smiled at Dade and Phil’s unexpected appearance, and exchanged a quick set of pleasantries and friendly handshakes. Bag finished shaking Phil and Dade’s hands, then turned back to the trainees. “It’s good to have all of you on the-”

  “Oh, you’re just going to skip me, asshole?” Jon shouted out as he passed Bag a dirty look.

  Bag laughed quietly; he actually hadn’t meant to skip Jon but he still had him mentally written off in his head. “Well belay my last, Jon. Krieger this is Jon, Jon…Krieger.”

  “Fucking Coast Guard…” Jon crossed his arms in obvious annoyance.

  Bag’s face went straight and he was actually offended. “Hey whoa…that’s uncalled for.”

  “Don’t be angry that your service sucks.” Jon continued to glare.

  Bag glared in response. Jon began to laugh loudly and changed his tone over to his normal joking manner. “Haha, just kidding Bag, you guys are kind of cool. Life jackets and that shit.”

  Bag continued to glare, dropped his head, and sighed loudly. He really was going to have to get used to Jon’s humor again… “God Damnit, Jon…”

  Jon grinned widely and knew he’d gotten under Bag’s skin. Mission accomplished! He walked up in front of the veterans and looked over the trainees. “Haha! Anyways, I’m the Executive Officer. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Jon Reverent, and I’m the classiest fucking person you have ever met. I’m from the original Austin, Texas… Oh and don’t call me Sir and all that shit. Its Jon and JUST Jon.”

  Bag smirked. “Yeah, ‘fucking’ classy. Those words work together.”

  Jon grunted a laugh in return. “Yeah, I’m so ‘Fucking’ classy. Haha!”

  Bag partially laughed, but he was the only one in the platoon to do it. They’d get use to Jon again eventually… Probably… “Alright, now that ALL of us have been introduced. I’m going to separate you all into squads and then further by teams-”

  “Hold up! Not everyone is here just yet!” Another familiar voice called out behind the Officers. This time it was General Travis himself, along with the rugged Sergeant Justin Morris aka Reagan, Specialist James Edwards aka Shake, and his younger brother Joseph Edwards aka Joe.

  Jon grunted and spoke under his breath. “Is it show up whenever you want time?”

  “You certainly did.” Bag snorted, and then turned and rendered a salute to Brett. “General on deck!”

  The whole platoon jumped to their feet and snapped to attention. Brett returned the salute. “You all remember Reagan and the Edwards brothers’ right?” Brett immediately walked over to Bag and pulled him aside, as the rest of the platoon exchanged greetings with the latest three veterans to return to the fold. Brett waited to speak until they were a few feet away from the crowd. “Hey Bag, how’s this turning out? How are the recruits?”

  “Well, they’re certainly a diverse bunch. Though I am not questioning your decision in bringing them in, I am concerned about some of their…motivations… particularly the draftee.”

  “Bag, I hand-picked these soldiers for you. If they weren’t loyal or capable of doing their jobs, I wouldn’t have sent them here. Besides, it’s best to get them green. They’re more willing to learn and less likely to be corrupt.”

  Bag raised an eyebrow in partial concern. “I agree… but has corruption really become that bad?”

  Brett grabbed Bag by the shoulder and gently steered him farther away from the rest of the unit. “Look, I won’t get into too much detail, but things are not looking good from any side. All of the outer territories have been declared hostile ground, the frontier is in absolute chaos, and the inner territories are just hiding behind their walls pretending none of this is happening. The way our defense grids have gone dark…there’s no way those marauders did that without inside help… Anyways enough of the politics. I’m sorry to drop this on you but Krieger is now on standby. You’re the quick reaction force, effective immediately.”

  Bag shook his head in bewilderment and began to whisper a protest. “Standby? You can’t be serious, Brett! We haven’t even started training these men! They’re untested and unpredictable!”

  Brett sighed and shrugged his hands up, making it clear it wasn’t up for discussion. “It sucks, I know it does, but that’s why I came down here to tell you in person. The brass is pushing hard for every possible unit to be battle ready and there is no fighting it…trust me I’ve tried... Well, any questions?”

  “None come to mind…not with that bomb you just dropped on us.” Bag sighed in disappointment.

  Brett patted Bag on the shoulder and passed him a friendly smile. “It’s good to see everyone back together again. We’ll have to all get lunch at that little café on base. They have really good roast beef on rye sandwiches. Let’s say…next Friday?”

  Bag sighed again and nodded. “Yeah, next Friday it is…” Brett firmly shook his hand, and then waved to the rest of the platoon as he walked back toward base. “Stay safe, Krieger platoon!”

  The situation could certainly be MUCH worse, all things said and done, but at least everyone was back on the team... Bag quickly shook his thoughts clear, walked back into the center of the platoon, and pulled a paper list from his top jacket pocket. “Ok, time to split everyone up. When I call your name I want you to find your team leaders. James, you are team leader for first squad, alpha team…”

  James grunted contently. “Yes I am Bag. Yes I am.”

  Bag looked up at Reagan, Shake, and Joe respectively. He almost didn’t recognize them at first… “Firstly, Sergeant Morris, Specialist Edwards, and Private First Class Edwards, welcome back to you guys! Sorry for the short introduction but we need to get things moving soon. I want you to introduce yourselves to your teams afterwards.” Bag looked back down at the list. “Ok, Reagan you’re First Squad, Team Bravo leader. Cholius you’re Second Squad, Team Alpha. Matt you’re Second Squad, Team Bravo, and Valor-”

  Valor yelled before Bag could finish. “YEAH! I know just what I am! Armor Commander, son!”

  Bag laughed in response. “Yeah, that… Alright then, Joe, Wallace, Kabir; you’re with Lieutenant James. Sarah, Bruce, and Harrison; you’re with Sergeant Reagan. Lee, Willits, Ramirez; you’re with Sergeant Major Cholius. Shake, Hawkins, and Kazowski, you’re with Lieutenant Matt over there. Armor crew, you’re with Valor. Any questions?”

  The
platoon remained silent and stared back at him blankly. That was to be expected. “Ok then… Team leaders take charge and carry out the plan of the day.”

  It only took a few moments for the squads to form up on their new leaders, and likewise only took a few more moments for the soldierly banter to start up. Things were going well so far… Jon shoved Bag hard on the shoulder just as he was about to walk away. “Soooooooo, what are we doing now?”

  “We’re about to go over squad tactics. We’re also waiting for our vehicles to arrive, so until then everyone is free to BS.” Bag replied without a second of hesitation.

  Dade and Phil strode up to Jon and Bag and swapped another set of friendly greetings. Bag was glad they were able to make it, not only for the trainees introduction, but because it was good to see old friends. “Phil, Dade, how the hell are you guys? It’s been way too long.”

  Phil half-smiled and grumbled; speaking in his very doctor, matter a fact sort of way. “We’ll, I’ve been here since the last time we had this little meeting, when that idiot Colonel Guerin was in charge… Well, I’m still dealing with the ungrateful and annoying soldier who is relentless in their effort to get out of work for minor ailments. Same old, same old.”

  Dade tilted his head to the side and laughed. Speaking in his somewhat hushed but friendly way. “You’ve been here since 2113? How many times did you extend?”

  Phil smiled and shrugged. “They offered me a promotion when I was up to transfer…that’s kind of why I’m a Major now and not a Captain, hah. Same with Hammer actually. He just made Major but they’re transferring him to New Boston.”

  The parade field came alive with conversation and laughter, which drew the group’s attention away for a moment. Dade glanced over the platoon and nodded in obvious approval. “I was worried it was just going to be like two or three of us here... Good to see that’s not the case.”

  Valor howled out from his Armor team’s location a few yards away. “Oh Yeah! Alighten knows what’s up! Tell them the time we drove over that sand dune and-”

  Phil snorted a laugh and brought the group’s attention back. “Everyone is exactly the same, especially Valor.” Then checked the time on his wrist coms and sighed in frustration. “Hey, it’s been fun seeing everyone again but I need to get at least a little sleep for tomorrow. I’ve got a hospital to run, you know, kind of important… You know where I’ll be when you need me. WHEN is the key word there Bag! I swear I’ve never seen anyone attract as many damn bullets as you…”

  Bag half-laughed in response, since he knew it was true. He still didn’t know how he hadn’t been killed after everything that’s happened…Oh well? Bag yelled out to Phil as he began walking toward the south end of base in the direction of his very illuminated triple story hospital building. “Oh hey before I forget. Brett invited all of us out to lunch on Friday at some café on base.”

  Phil stopped and turned for a moment. “Friday huh? I’ll see what I can do. I’ll let Hammer know too. He would’ve been here tonight but he had to do surgery about an hour ago... Nature of the beast.” Phil waved again and continued on his way.

  Bag turned back to the group and cleared his throat. “So Dade, when did you become a police officer?”

  Dade shrugged widely and smiled. “Yeah, I graduated from the Crystal City academy a few years ago and it’s kept me very busy… So busy that I hadn’t slept a few nights in a row and thought I was hallucinating when you walked into the station.”

  “Yeah, I remember you mentioning going to the academy back in the day. I’m glad to see it all worked out. Are you flying up the ranks?”

  Dade smiled, obviously proud to speak about it. “Thanks Bag, and no I’m going up at a fairly average speed. But I’ve been on the force for about 4 years now. To be honest the whole place is a mess… the cartels are trying hard to setup shop around the poorer areas and they’re merciless. There’s so much seemingly random crime it’s hard to make sense of much anymore.”

  Jon grunted to indicate he was going to speak. “I heard crime’s picked up out there. It’s gotten pretty bad out in New Austin too.”

  Dade nodded to him in agreement. “Crystal City is a great place to live, don’t get me wrong. It’s just the cartels are a growing pain. I’m just trying to make some kind of difference, you know? My partner has helped me a lot with that too.”

  “Partner?” Jon inquired.

  “Haha yeah, a German shepherd named Susie. She helps me sniff out the bad guys quite a bit. I brought her with me too, she’s over in the hangar.”

  Jon laughed and spoke in a very skeptical tone. “Did the police let you take her here? I didn’t think you could just up and leave.”

  “It’s the whole mandatory military service thing, I had to jump through a few hoops and it really wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Taking Susie was just a bonus that they didn’t have a chance to argue… or know about. Haha.” Dade shrugged.

  Bag nodded to him with respect. “That’s awesome, man. I’ll have to stop by the hangar tomorrow. Have you had a chance to look at your new aircraft?”

  Dade glanced over toward the hangar. “Yeah, ‘New’ is a relative term. Those Stealth Hawks…they’re old as dirt but they seem to be holding up well enough. I’m not sure for how much longer though… The F/A-24’s are another story… I have about five of them, including the pilots to go with it. About five because one is half taken apart and the mechanics are having trouble fixing it since we can’t get new or even refurbished parts anymore. We’re trying to scan and forge-print entire new sections at a time and it’s just rough trial and error. Besides that though they look good man. I actually took mine out earlier today.”

  Bag grunted a laugh. “That explains the sonic boom I heard at lunch.”

  Jon turned to Bag with a suddenly suspicious look on his face. “What about our attack helicopters?”

  Bag raised an eyebrow in return, and replied with an equally questioning tone. “What about them?”

  “What about them? I mean are we going to actually fly or are we just going to sit on the ground all damn day playing pretty little Officer?”

  Bag shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I’m working with Brett to make a rotary-wing group for Krieger, of which WE will be the head. No promises though…for now we’re straight infantry.”

  “Hmm, ok…”

  “…what?” Bag raised his eyebrow at Jon again.

  Jon shook his head and acted a bit melodramatic. “Nope, nothing. It’s fine.”

  “Alright… Well Dade, I’m glad you came back to join the unit again. I was worried we wouldn’t have our best fighter pilot to keep the skies clear.”

  Dade grinned and snorted a laugh. He knew Bag was just being courteous, but hey he was a pretty damn good pilot all things said and done. “Thanks Bag. Yeah it’s cool being back. I didn’t think I’d miss flying so much. I’m just not supposed to be stuck on the ground after all. Let me know when you need me to shoot something down…or have someone to drop an ungodly amount of ordinance on.”

  The whine of multiple rotor aircraft began to sound in the distance and became ever closer with the passing seconds. Cholius glanced down at his watch then shouted over to Bag. “Right on time!”

  Bag passed him the thumbs up. “That’s a first!” Then turned back to Dade, with a now very serious tone. “Game time. Did you get the training schedule I sent you?”

  “Yeah, I haven’t taken a good look at it just yet. I’ve been busy with just getting my hangar up to speed…it was a disaster. Physically and Administratively…”

  Bag grinned. He’d take Dade’s word for it, especially since the hangar looked ratty even from this distance, in the dark… “Haha! It’s all good, I just need you to take your aircraft out and run some practice simulations. This morning is strictly training until sunrise. After that we’ll have some orientation classes for the entire unit, so bring your pilots over with you.” 23 hours in a day went by pretty fast… He was starting to miss that extra Earth hour
.

  Dade nodded to him in acknowledgment and checked his watch. “Alright sounds good. I’ll go get my guys ready. This Friday for that lunch thing, right?”

  “Yeah, Friday at that café.” Bag gave Dade a quick two-finger salute, who likewise passed him the thumbs up as he slow jogged back to his hanger, trying vainly to avoid the rotor wash from the approaching helicopters.

  The red and green navigation lights from three separate aircraft became visible over the artificial lake on the north side of the parade field. The lights began to spread out double length apart and came to a hover about 100 yards from the platoon, blowing sand and frigid air into the faces of the team, and drowning out all other sounds with the high pitched whine of the aircrafts duel rotors.

  The three aircraft turned to their right sides, revealing open cabin doors, and brought their engines to a somewhat more quiet idle. They were MH-91 Stealth Hawks, or as the infantry of the Army affectionately named them, Guardian Angels. The aircraft was the last generation of helicopters the military had adopted, ending a long and proud era of aviation in favor of space fairing craft. The aircraft was long and sleek with sharp radar absorbing angles, as well as one-way camouflaged windows and small doors around the exhaust ports that could be partially closed to help hide the heat from scanning systems below. The aircraft was painted a dark orange-brown with digital black specs dotting the outside. The cabin opened up into a space just big enough for the 2 rows or 5 passenger seats and the two crew chief seats, and was lit by dim red cabin lights.

  In the center of the wing, toward the wing tip, were two duel turbo-fans which give the aircraft its thrust. Though the MH-91 was now five decades beyond the manufacturers projected life span, the Army kept them, as well as all of its outdated equipment and vehicles, maintained and mission capable even in the present trying times. Not that it was easy to do that…

  Bag waited for the bulk of the dust to clear, and then yelled as loud as he could over the sound of the engines. “These are the MH-91’s, they’re your Guardian Angels! Learn to love them, because they will often be the only support you get. Avoid running directly under the rotor housings, or you may get a very close haircut… followed closely by death. Come in low and directly off to the 3 o’clock or 9 o’clock of the aircraft. First Squad to the aircraft on my left, Second Squad to the one on my right. Don’t worry about the one in the middle. The crew chiefs will brief you once you get in. Move out!”