Whiskey Delta – Chapter 13
“You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war.”
-Napoleon Bonaparte
The men escorting him were grunts, no higher than PFC’s. It seemed like an arbitrary thing, on top of everything else, to be upset about being led to a slaughter by subordinates. And yet, there it was. But did they really have to insist that he leave his rifle behind? What did they think, he was going to blow a gasket and go postal in the Mage’s office. It was like being neutered…
Every step he took was a perfect fucking shame. He felt all eyes in the corridor upon him and wondered what they were thinking. In truth, he wondered himself what he should be thinking. It was a foregone conclusion that someone would be taking them aside to deliver their special assignment, but to get it from the Mage himself. One had to wonder just how badly they had come off looking in Haynes’ report.
The men pealed off as soon as they reached the door to the Mage’s office. Faces blank and unforgiving, they took their places on either side of it and raised their weapons. Nothing left but for Braun to walk through and take his reaming like a man. He reached out and turned the handle. The sound of a conversation in progress trickled out.
He caught a few words, the Colonel mentioning something about resettlement and decont teams being busy for weeks beforehand. One didn’t need to be too smart to know that they were referring to the operation he and his men weren’t taking part in. He came before the Mage’s desk and stood at the ready, hands behind his back and chin high, awaiting what was to come.
“Lieutenant Braun,” the Mage said finally. “I imagine you didn’t expect to be back in here so soon?”
“No sir,” Braun replied.
“Well, rest assured this isn’t a dressing down. You’ve been called in here for a very special reason.”
Braun nodded. As expected, the Mage was wearing the velvet glove, standard procedure when one was being rotated to avoid any more screw ups. Always let them think they aren’t in trouble, pretend what they’re doing and where they’re going is of the utmost importance. And that was when they didn’t go with the patronizing consolation speech. But at least he wasn’t being yelled at. That much he could be thankful for.
“I also apologize that your squad won’t be taking part in the liberation of Santa Fe. You’re men proved intrinsic in the first phase of that operation.”
Braun frowned. “So that is going ahead, sir? We’re really retaking the town?”
“Correct, Lieutenant,” Vasquez said. “The resistance was less than we expected. It seems the Whiskeys were spread thinner than even our most conservative estimates indicated.”
“Another major push, and we’ll be ready to rebuild it, even repopulate it. And all those people we pulled out will be able to go home, such as it is.”
Braun cleared his throat and nodded. That was good news, but knowing it only made him feel worse. It wasn’t just an offensive they were being deprived of, but a major one. An historic one.
“And yet, the mission I am asking you and some of your men to perform goes well beyond that, Lieutenant… Perhaps you should take a seat.”
Braun looked to the seat beside him. He could safely say that things were taking an alternate direction that previously thought. Pulling the seat closer, he lowered himself into it and crossed his hands on his lap.
“Drink?” the Mage offered. Braun politely declined. Vasquez made one for the Mage and himself, and took a seat next to the Mage’s bookshelf. Braun could feel an air of conspiracy building in the office. His mood was beginning to shift as well, from the simple anxiety felt by a man who was anticipating a beating to a man who didn’t know what to expect. And it was bugging him…
“Let me come right to the point, Lieutenant. Your commanding officer complained bitterly about his operation being screwed by the… shall we say, independent mindedness of a certain junior officer. He was sure to place the blame for any delays and risks on the shoulder of said officer and recommended he be pulled from the front line.”
Aha, Braun thought. Now this sounded like the consolation speech.
“However, that simple act of independence resulted in the death of some twenty or thirty Whiskey Deltas, the rescue of twelve more civilians, and some vital intelligence. Of those three things, which do you think was the most important?”
Braun pondered on that and answered tentatively. “The civilians, sir.”
The Mage nodded and raised his glass. “Good call, Lieutenant.”
“Every living, uninfected person is worth a hundred dead Whiskeys, Lieutenant,” Vasquez interjected. “Every person we retrieve and keep alive and healthy is another chance to start over. Every one is a breeder, a rebuilder, a working set of hands and a chance for more babies.”
“What’s more, I was able to deduce from the Colonel’s rather vindictive report that one of your squads found a group of Whiskeys lying in wait. These critters, instead of attacking our advance like a bunch of mindless beasts, laid a trap and tried to lure our men in. This confirms what I’ve been fearing for some time now.”
“They are getting smarter,” Vasquez said. “At least some of them are.”
“And the price for all these gains was that one Colonel’s timetable was forcibly altered.” The Mage took a long sip from his whiskey. “I don’t know about you, but I consider that a pretty small price to pay.”
Braun smiled and then found himself looking back and forth from Vasquez to the Mage. A consensus was apparent, he and his men had done something truly valuable. After all this build-up, had they merely brought him in here to commend him? If that were true though, why all the subterfuge? Why let Haynes think he was getting his way? A cruel jest? Now he was really curious!
The Mage finished the last of his whiskey and leaned forward in his desk. Braun braced for the revelation.
“Question for you, Lieutenant. As important as rebuilding is to our plans, it is the subject of winning this war that concerns us in the here and now. We’ve still got to win this war, and aside from blowing the heads off of infected, how do you think that’s going to be done?”
Braun swallowed and answered as best he could. Long-term strategy had never been that much of a concern. Everyone was happy to leave that to people like the Mage.
“Starve them out, sir?”
The Mage nodded, looked to Vasquez who did the same. “Makes sense. We set up our roadblocks and blockades, makes sure they don’t through. Keep them from biting our people long enough and eventually they’ll all die off. Then we can retake the country, one acre at a time…” Vasquez wasn’t nodding, which led him to believe he had gotten it wrong. The Mage explained why a second later. “Only problem with that is, as long as they got food sources to move on to, they’ll continue to expand. We can protect our own here, but the fortress mentality never works when it prevents you from stopping the enemy from overrunning the countryside.”
“Plus its going to be that much harder to rebuild if everyone outside our four walls is dead, Lieutenant.”
Braun nodded. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“No need to apologize, Lieutenant. Given our current disposition, you no doubt assumed that was what we had in mind. Unfortunately for all of us in what’s left of the command hierarchy, we’ve had to keep this one close to our chests. For some time now, we’ve been forced to buckle down and mind our territories. But that’s about to change.”
“Hence why you’re here, Lieutenant. You and your company have demonstrated time and again that you have the ability to meet the enemy on their own terms and beat them. You’ve also demonstrated that you have the ability to think on your feet, which is the most important aspect for your new assignment.”
“Sirs,” he said, a bit impatiently, “if I may ask, what is this new assignment. My company and I were under the impression we were pulled from the line for insubordination. What exactly are we being tasked with?”
The Mage looked to Vasquez with a slight grin on his face. “What we are about to tell you is strictly off the record, so you need to understand in advance that anything you hear within this office does not go beyond it. Understand?”
Braun nodded firmly. He had assumed as much as soon as they started commending him on his performance thus far.
“For many months now, myself and every other command that is still operational in this country have been trying to find a way to hit the Whiskey’s where they live. We’ve known since the first outbreak, before the First Wave even started, that this thing is biological in nature. We are at war with the pandemic itself, and if we’re going to win, we have to find a way to kill and make sure it never comes back.”
Braun drew in a long breath. “You’re talking about a cure?”
The Mage shrugged. “Perhaps a cure, perhaps an inoculate. We can’t be sure what form it will take. All we know is, this pandemic started somewhere, and with that knowledge comes a chance.”
Vasquez stood up from his spot and took over once again. “Lieutenant, are you familiar with the term Patient Zero?”
Braun felt his mind switch gears again. All traces of anxiety were gone, replaced with something far more potent and unexpected. He had indeed heard of that term, but never in the form of scuttlebutt amongst his men. That kind of talk had only been within the higher circles, stuff that happened shortly after the First Wave when there was still some semblance of order. After things had broken down, when they had fallen back to their bases, all that talk had ceased. Then, with the arrival of the Mage, all anyone ever talked about was holding the line and waiting for the day when it was all going to be over. That and what little tidbits they could gather about what was going on outside of their so-called fortress. But he remembered those words; and more importantly, what they implied…
“The first infected person,” he said. “Something about a man who came from overseas?”
“That’s correct, Lieutenant,” the Mage said. “A man named Mace Harmonn, who had been traveling through South-East Asia where it is assumed he contracted the virus while taking a little sojourn in the jungle. The CDC had traced the outbreak back to him, and we were looking for him just as soon as it became a matter of national defense. Back before the First Wave hit, we were getting close. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond our control, we were forced to relocate our commands to a series of secure facilities, facilities such as this one.”
He gestured vaguely at the office. However, Braun knew he meant the base itself. Few people ever got to hear this story, and he suddenly felt privileged on top of everything else. But more important than that seemed to be the implication of what he was saying.
“Are you saying you’ve found him?”
“We think so,” Vasquez replied. “Thanks to ongoing collaboration between ourselves and other assets in the field, we believe we’ve narrowed it down to Los Angeles. That was the last place he had been seen before… he turned.”
The Mage pursed his lips. His mustache forming a large furry column underneath his nose. “And now we need to find him. That one man holds the key to ending this crisis, and either rendering those people who remain immune, or bringing all those infected back.”
“Where do we come into this?” Braun asked.
The MAge chuckled. “Now that’s where it get’s interesting.” He handed his glass back to Vasquez, who began to fashion another drink for him while he talked.
“Lieutenant, are you and your company experienced with Halo drops? Aerial retrieval? The operation of a Stryker vehicle? Cover infiltration tactics and the latest in bio-technology?”
Braun frowned. “No sir, with the exception on operating an LAV, I’d say none of my men have experience in any of those fields.”
“That’s about to change,” the Mage said, taking his refilled glass from the Colonel and taking a sip. “Once you and a handpicked squad are finished, you’ll be experts in every manner of infiltration, exfiltration, and high-tech warfare. A necessity, since you will be the ones I’m sending to find Patient Zero, and return him here.”
Braun looked to Vasquez, as if for confirmation. He could scarcely believe his ears.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” he said. “You’re going to La La Land. Or what’s left of it.”
