Whiskey Delta – Chapter 41

“The battlefield is a scene of constant chaos. The winner will be the one who controls that chaos, both his own and the enemies.”

-Napoleon Bonaparte

With Wilcox clear, Saunders was able to get free of the smoking ruin. A good thing too, as its insides were beginning to get very thick with smoke. Worse, she feared more of the ammo would start to go and turn the fuel tanks into smoking diesel fires.

She was surprised to see Whitman up and about. He was holding his jaw with one hand and that hand was bloody, but he was on his feet and even looking after the others. Mill was nearby, checking on Braun and Dezba. They all turned to notice Wilcox being laid out at the edge of the vehicle and became deadly silent.

There was no point, but Kobayashi still did a quick check. It took only seconds to rule out a pulse, air, and retinal response. He closed his eyes and crossed his hands over his chest, lending his body a more dignified repose than the one he died in.

Sanchez went over the body and began weeping. Further off, Beaumont was watching and seemed strangely at ease. Perhaps he was caught between relief and grief, knowing that at least one of his men survived. She knew how he felt.

She dropped down off the Stryker and walked past the somber display. She found Braun and Dezba leaned up against the wall of a nearby building and Whitman standing over them.

“Private,” she called. Whitman looked up at her and tried to reply. A clumsy, muttled sound was all he managed, and he quickly moaned from the pain.

“Don’t mind him, ma’am. He bit his tongue pretty bad. Cut up his lips when his face hit the driver’s column. Really shouldn’t be talking.”

Whitman nodded and moaned an affirmative, pointed to his jaw. In spite of everything she was feeling, Saunders wanted to laugh.

“Can he drive though?”

Mill looked to Whitman. He moaned some more and held his thumb up. She resisted the urge to laugh again. What was it about this guy that he could turn anything into a comical display? Was he as simple as they gave him credit for, or a hidden genius? That thought also made her want to laugh. A small snicker was all he could manage.

“Alright. We need to get some transport,” she said as soon as she found her composure. “Mill, you and the uh, joker here, find us a vehicle with some fuel in it that still runs. Preferably one with the keys still in the ignition.”

Whitman began muttering something unintelligible, waving his hand dismissively. She shook her head and looked to Mill to translate.

“He says don’t worry about it, he can hotwire it.”

Why am I not surprised? she thought.

The two of them proceeded down the alleyway back towards the far end of the street. They steered left once there, avoiding the flaming wreckage of the chopper. This left her alone with Kobayashi, and a discussion she wasn’t particularly looking forward to. After looking over their wounded one last time, he joined her away from the wrecked vehicle and the balance of their sqaud.

“Ma’am, we got problems, not sure where to start.”

She shook her head unhappily. “Just say it, Koby. It’s not like its a secret, you know.”

“Alright then, how about the good news? We lost only one member of the squad in that accident.”

“You mean disaster…” she said.

“Not your fault.”

“I was in charge.”

He sighed. She wasn’t helping things by blaming herself. But he didn’t want to argue the point. He got to the bad news as tactfully as he could.

“On the downside, half our squad is now inoperable. Lieutenant Braun, Sergeant Dezba, and now Cobb. Beaumont and Sanchez are both in relative shock over the loss of their man, and I don’t think either one can be trusted with a weapon much longer.”

She looked at Beaumont and frowned. He was still standing there, holding back as Sanchez cried over his friends body. He looked so plain, she hadn’t figured he was in a bad way. But the look of disaffection was clear to her now. He wasn’t so much holding on as withdrawing into himself. That could pose problems in short order.

“On top of that, I heard you tell Sanchez we’re transporting his friends body with us?”

“Leave no man behind,” she said automatically.

“Fine, but we got three invalids already.”

“If Beaumont can’t be trusted, let him and Sanchez do it. Whitman can still drive. That leaves us three to take care of our own.”

“And who’s going to cover us now that we got no vehicle?”

“Mill and Whitman are procuring transport.” Kobayashi sighed again and shook his head. Saunders felt a sudden spike of anger. What did he expect her to say? That they were fucked? Did he want her to admit that they were hopelessly overextended and couldn’t possibly hope to make it home again? What good would that do them now?

“You got a suggestion, Koby, or did you just want to remind me of the fucked-upness of our situation?”

Kobayashi didn’t reply immediately. He simply looked at the mess of their wounded and back to her. The questing look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. The anger reached a crescendo. She did her best to keep her voice even, not wanting the others to hear.

“Don’t you fucking say it, big man. Don’t even think it.”

“I’m not saying, ma’am.”

“You’re the squads fucking medic, you can’t go there!”

“I’m not, ma’am,” he said forcefully. For a second, they both looked at the others just to make sure they weren’t taking an interest. Safely assured that they were still speaking privately, he lowered his voice and continued. “I just think you need to consider that four healthy people have far better odds of getting out then four people tending to six people who are either incapacitated, out of their minds, or dead.”

She couldn’t help but notice his choice of words. “I need?” she echoed.

“Yes, ma’am. You’re in charge. Whatever you say goes, come hell or high water. It’s not your fault we got more invalids on our hands, but you need to consider whether or not we need to keep having them.”

Saunders felt her head spin. Kobayashi’s explanation for his reasoning was only making it seem worse. She wasn’t sure if she should feel infuriated, patronized, or what. She sure as hell couldn’t bring herself to feel thankful for the helpful advice. Nor could she take what he was saying seriously. It was beyond cold and ruthless, it was unthinkable.

And yet, even as she told herself that, she couldn’t help but feel her mind drifting to that place. Weighing the odds of their survival free and unencumbered, considering that some would have a better chance of making it out instead of all. She tried to fight it, but the logic of it was insidious and seemed to be growing in strength and intensity. The more she tried to fight it, the worse it became.

“No,” she said finally, shutting down all internal debate. “I wasn’t prepared to write any member of this squad off before and I’m not about to do it now. They’d all be dead in there if we hadn’t seen to their rescue. They come with us.”

“You sure?” Kobayashi asked. Saunder might have hit him, but the resolve she now felt made that completely unnecessary. She was in charge, and he would obey.

“Yes, I’m sure. What’s more, I know they’d do the same for us.”

Kobayashi nodded and forced an awkward smile. She frowned at him. “What’s so goddamned funny?”

The big man was about to answer, but they were interrupted by the sound of wheels coming around the corner. They looked up to see a large, red pickup pulling in ahead of them. The paint was chipped, some sections rusting, but the engine sounded lively and smooth. Whitman brought her to a screeching halt just a few meters from them and jumped out. Mill did the same from the other side.

“What do you think, Alpha leader?” he asked, slapping the hood. “Got a half tank of gas, and the engine seems to be running just fine. Whitman even gave her a look under the hood and is willing to sign off.”

Whitman smiled, his thick, swollen lips giving it a very comical rendering. Saunders ran to the side and inspected the rear. Aside from a spare tire, it was open and empty. And it looked to be spacious enough to fit five people, assuming they could cram another three into the front. She nodded approvingly.

“Where’d you find it?”

“Just up the road, parked in the lot by an old Walmart. Probably a family out shopping for supplies. Even found a box of shell casings under the driver’s seat.” Mill held up the box and laughed suddenly, looked over to Whitman. “I’ve sad it before and I’ll say it again, Billy. Thank God for people of you ilk!”

Whitman smiled sardonically and gave a sideways nod of his head. Saunders smiled, but ceased to when she was forced to looked back to Kobayashi.

“Get down there,” she nodded to the others huddled around their vehicle. “Help get the ‘invalids’ into the back.”

“Ma’am?” he said just as she was about to turn away. “You might want to consider appointing and NCO too. So far, you’ve been running things without a second. Might be a good time…”

She smiled tightly, looked at Mill. “Private! You’ve been promoted. You’re my second until we’re out of here one of us dies.”

Mill snapped out a quick salute. “I won’t let you down, ma’am!”

“Good, now start getting our predecessors into the back. Mr. Reaper here will help you.”

Mill ran off. She was once again about to tend to their vehicle, but saw Kobayashi still standing there in the corner of her eye. When she looked back, she saw him smiling again. No interruptions would stop her now. Marching over to him, she curled her fist and made ready to hit him if his answer wasn’t satisfactory.

“What the fuck is so funny, Koby?” she asked.

“Nothing, ma’am,” he said, turning deadly serious.

“Then why the hell are you smiling again? I’ve shot you down twice, I’d think you’d be angry.”

“You didn’t shoot me down, ma’am,” he said plainly. “I never said we should leave people behind, just that you should consider it. It’s your duty as commander, after all.”

Her fist tightened. “And?”

“You made the right call. You did the same when I suggested selecting an NCO. Mill’s the obvious choice.”

Shit, she thought. She had worked up a perfectly good sense of fury, now her anger was now fluctuated unpredictably. She wanted to hit him, thank him, shove him to the ground. She split the difference and just punched him in the arm. He winced mildly, and smiled again.

“You are a weird fucking man, Mr. Hiro Kobayashi!”

“Yes, ma’am. Being the voice of tough love is a tough job.”

She grunted. She didn’t care much for that characterization at the moment, even if it might be partially true. She pointed to their wounded.

“So is being the toughest guy in the squad. Now get over there and help, dickhead!”