Dark Coup (21 page)

“I had to do
something
,” he said.  “When the Colonel decided you had to be dealt with and came in loaded for bear, I had your back.  When you needed help with the HAM radios, I helped you out.  I even called, in the middle of a raid on my
own base
, to give you a heads up that the Black Hawks were headed your way.”

Ben leaned forward in his chair.  “Nobody had my back,” he said and slapped the table.  “Nobody was there for me when the chips were down and that weasel, that snake, Mathis, stood there and talked out of both sides of his mouth while the attack was literally mounting.”

Ben slumped backwards.  “Nobody had my back, Mallory,” he said.  “I did what I had to do, for my men and for myself.”

Mallory came over and sat on the corner of the table and took one of Ben’s hands in hers.

“Where are you, Ben,” Mallory asked.  “Look around.  Where are your people, the ones that didn’t
choose
to stay behind and defend the base?”

Mallory squeezed Ben’s hand to keep him from interrupting until she was done and then reached up to brush a stray small braid of hair behind her ear.  “Ultimately,” she asked, “would it have mattered if everyone had stayed to defend the base?  Would it have made any difference if I, or anyone else, had come charging up the road in the middle of the battle?  You have a place to go and so do all of your people.  Olsen didn’t get much when he finally took the base.  And standing with you, side by side, isn’t the only way for people to have your back.”

Ben shook his head.

Mallory reached out and put her hand on the back of his head, running her fingers over the tight curls of hair where it had grown out from his typical military buzz cut.  Ben froze for a second and then relaxed and leaned into her hand, into the comfort she was offering, and then stopped.  Ben put his hand on hers and then brought her hands together in front of him.

At Mallory’s look, Ben sighed.

“What’s going on with Kyle,” he asked.

Mallory tried to pull her hands away from Ben, but he held on and she quit pulling after a second.  “I don’t want to talk about Kyle, Ben,” she said.

“I don’t either,” Ben said, “but I need to, and I think you do too.  What happened?”

Mallory shook her head.  “Nothing happened,” she said, “that’s the point, and nothing was ever going to happen.  Kyle thought something could, or would happen, but…”

Ben waited for Mallory to continue after she collected her thoughts.

“I think it started during my divorce,” Mallory said.  “He was there for me, no matter what.  I could talk to him about anything and he wouldn’t judge me.  He didn’t make any demands of me or expect me to get over it sooner rather than later.  He just accepted me for who I was and made sure that everybody else did too.”

Mallory snorted a short laugh.  “I remember right near the end of the divorce,” she said.  “My ex was making less than I was, even on my meager salary, and he threatened to bring up alimony at our next court date.”

Mallory looked off to the side as she remembered the events.  “Kyle could tell I was having a bad day and we went out for a beer after work,” she said.  “I told him my ex was threatening me with an alimony request and he got all hot under the collar.  I told him not to worry about it, I had it under control, but he was really wound up when we left the bar.”

“He was off the next day,” Mallory said, “but when I saw him the day after that he seemed to be in a good mood so I didn’t think any more of it.  I figured it was just the alcohol talking and he’d taken my advice and calmed down.”

“When I went to court about a week later,” Mallory continued, looking at Ben, “my ex shows up and he’s walking like he’s really sore.  I asked him what happened and he glared at me for a split second and then covered it by looking away and saying he slipped coming down a flight of stairs at work.  He’s fine.  When we get in front of the judge, my ex dropped his contest of the divorce and no mention was made of alimony.”

“His lawyer pulls him aside and started asking him questions, and he just kept saying no until he threatened to fire the lawyer right there, in court, in front of the judge, for cause.”  Mallory smiled a little.  “The lawyer shut up at that point until we were in the room to get the papers signed,” she said.  “He asked ‘What made you change your mind about…’ and my ex said, ‘One more word out of you and I’ll
own
your practice!’  He literally didn’t say another word the entire time.”

“You think…” Ben started to ask.

Mallory nodded.  “I didn’t put it together until almost a year later,” she said.  “Which is stupid, or wishful thinking, or, I don’t know.  Kyle didn’t do or say anything.  I was at home, going through some things, and I came across the divorce papers and I remembered those last couple of weeks, and things finally clicked.”

“And you never said anything to Kyle about it,” Ben asked.

“No,” Mallory shook her head, “and he wouldn’t have wanted me to.  He wasn’t like that.  He never said anything and assumed I didn’t know.  If he’d wanted me to know he would have told me, so I kept it to myself.”  She looked Ben in the eyes, “You’re the first person I’ve ever told, and if you ever tell Kyle I knew,” she let the threat hang in the air between them.

“Not a word,” Ben said.  “Believe it or not I understand.  So why didn’t anything ever happen there?”

“Aside from the fact that I was in his chain-of-command,” Mallory asked.

Ben gave Mallory a look that spoke volumes.

“Okay,” Mallory said.  “Because at first I wasn’t ready for a relationship–any relationship–and then I wasn’t ready for a relationship with someone who knew all about my previous relationship.  Then, eventually, Kyle was just a really good friend.”

Ben winced.  “Ouch,” he said.  “Relegated to the friend-zone and he never even knew it.”

“That’s not fair,” Mallory said.  “I never gave him any reason to think otherwise.”

“Really,” Ben asked.

Mallory was silent for several seconds.

“You know,” Ben said, “I wanted to ask you out in the worst way when we were in boot.”

“Why didn’t you,” she asked.

“Well,” Ben said, “even back then you were a little intimidating.”

“Moi,” Mallory asked, taking one of her hands back and touching her chest and feigning shock.

“Yes you,” Ben chuckled.  “Private Jensen who could do more push-ups than anyone else in the squad, and probably than the Drill Sergeant, who consistently ran everyone else into the ground when we had a ‘fun run’, and outshot the Range Master, using his
own gun
.”

“To be fair to the Range Master,” Mallory said, “I’d been shooting an M1 Garand since I was nine.”

Ben rolled his eyes.  “Like any of us nineteen-year-old raw recruits gave a damn how long you’d been shooting,” he said. “You were out of our league, woman!  Most men would probably still feel that way.”

Mallory made a small frown.

“So,” Ben said softly, “I have to ask.  Am I in the dreaded friend-zone too?”

Mallory stood up as if to walk away, but instead of pulling her other hand free, she pulled Ben up and out of the chair.  Then, she put Ben’s hands on her waist and both of her hands on either side of his face, and for the first time since her ex-husband left, kissed someone.   Ben didn’t wait to be invited twice, and was soon fully in command of the kiss that she had initiated.

“No, Ben,” she whispered, when they came up for air, “you are definitely not just a friend.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

July 8, 2013 - Fort Rucker, Alabama

Sanford tried to keep the sour expression off his face as he headed to Colonel Olsen’s office for the morning briefing with West and the Colonel.  West still had no usable information on how Ben had been warned about the impending raid of several weeks ago, nor did he have any leads on where the missing vehicles or supplies had been squirreled away.

Sanford, on the other hand, was full of information he couldn’t use or share with the Colonel.  Yesterday’s session in the communications truck had been an eye-opener and he was dreading today’s briefing more than usual.

Every morning ended the same way; with Olsen fuming and Lt. Colonel West storming out of the office, yelling for this aide or that assistant so he could look like he was getting something done.  Nothing would change, and the process would repeat itself the next morning.  Lieutenant Colonel West was living proof of the Peter Principle; he had risen to the level of his incompetence and would rise no further.

West was already waiting at the Colonel’s door and Sanford followed him into the office.  Colonel Olsen was standing with his back to them, overlooking the base through his office windows.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” Olsen said.

“Major Sanford,” Olsen began.  “Tell me what you know about the state of the morale of our troops.”

For a split second, Sanford thought the Colonel knew about his meetings with Hodges and Tuttle and was on a fishing expedition.  Then he remembered that morale and well-being of the troops were his responsibilities and started breathing again.

“Sir,” Sanford said, stalling, “that’s a tricky question to answer at the best of times.  Right now, there’s a lot that would go into the answer.  Is there something specific you are referring to?”

“I’m referring,” Olsen said, as he turned around and leaned on his desk, “to the overall morale of the troops; here and at the other bases that don’t seem to be in active revolt against the directives we’ve sent out regarding ARCLiTE.”

Sanford nodded slightly as he swallowed.  “The longer this goes on,” Sanford said, “the more questions they’re asking, Sir.  More and more in the enlisted ranks are questioning how long we’re expected to keep this current posture, or when we’re going to start moving
forward
with whatever the next steps should be.”

Olsen was clenching his jaw by the time Sanford was finished and it had taken less than a minute to put him into his normal state–just shy of raving.

“They don’t have to understand,” Olsen said through gritted teeth.

“With all due respect, Sir,” West interrupted, “there comes a point where they
do
.  What they don’t have to do is
like
it.  They aren’t automatons, Sir.  These are people; many of them men and women with families here on base.  They understand the need to follow orders and know what it takes to get the job done but there’s a difference between obedience and blind obedience.”

Olsen winced just slightly at the last remark from West.

West, who was surprising Sanford with his insight, continued.  “We put a lot of trust and faith in our NCOs because we know that they, more than the rest, know the importance of discipline and duty.  They’ve been putting out fires for the better part of six months, though, and even they are starting to ask some of those same questions now.”

Olsen stood back up and started pacing in front of his window; a thoughtful expression on his face, hands clasped behind him.

“They need a mission, Sir,” Sanford said.

“We’re at
war
,” Olsen snapped.

“Sir,” West asked.  “I’m sorry, but with whom?  American citizens, the other bases that aren’t implementing ARCLiTE, zombies,
who
?  I’m not even questioning the
fact
, sir,” although the ‘fact’ could certainly be up for debate in just about anyone’s mind.

Olsen had turned on West when he’d been challenged, but backed off a little once he realized that it wasn’t so much his assertion of war that was being questioned, but who they were fighting.

 “
Is
it really a war,” Sanford asked, “and if so, are we even going about prosecuting it correctly?”

“Yes,” Olsen said as he stopped behind his desk and glared at Sanford and West.  “It’s a war in every sense of the word, against everything you mentioned.”

Sanford realized, almost too late, that West had included zombies in the list of things they were at war against and Olsen had said yes to everything, and had to literally bite his lip to keep from smiling.  This really wasn’t a laughing matter, but the Colonel was all. over. the. map!

“Then we have to treat it like one,” West said.  “Quit
telling
the men that we’re at war and let them go fight in some actual battles instead of just these, these one-off skirmishes that don’t mean anything.”

West shook his head for a second.  “But they’re going to need a reason to fight at this point,” he said.  “This has been going on for long enough that even though they’ll do what they’re told, they won’t be as effective unless they have a reason.”

“Then give them one,” Olsen said.

“But what,” Sanford asked.

“I honestly don’t care,” Olsen said.  “Make one up if you have to but do it, do it now, and make it convincing.”

Sanford’s stomach lurched.

“Sir,” West said into the uncomfortable silence that followed Olsen’s order.  “In some cases, an enemy isn’t going to be enough.  Again, we’ve been at an elevated state of readiness for so long that simply putting a face on the opposition may not do it for some of the troops.”

Olsen glared at West but didn’t say anything, so West continued.

“We,” West indicated the three of them, “have been Officers, and out of direct fire and combat, long enough to have forgotten what it’s like to live on the edge for an extended period of time.  They either need to stand down for a while–which they clearly can’t do–or be presented with something so overwhelming that they’re willing to crank it up a notch one last time.”

Olsen didn’t like what he was hearing, but he knew West was right.  He’d mavericked from enlisted to his commission over twenty years ago and even though he hadn’t seen combat in almost that long, he could remember the feeling West was describing without too much effort.

“We’ll come up with something else, too,” Olsen said.  “Not just the face of the enemy but a real threat, a threat to
us
, not just the country or our way of life.  I don’t care if you even have to stage a crisis
right on base
to get their attention, but get it done.”