Chapter 112. Among Veterans
After that unpleasant conversation, which had come dangerously close to crossing the line into outright hostility, the Hummer’s cabin sank into a heavy silence. I could not have cared less. Before the evolution of my organic body and the optimization of my biochemistry, an encounter like that would have sent my brain into an endless loop: Had I gone too far? Did they take me the wrong way? Should I back down? Now, there was nothing but absolute, perfect stillness inside me. It was as if I had not just gotten into an argument with a Special Forces colonel, but had some stupid childhood spat with my friend Megan.
Only with her, way back when we were kids, could we scream at each other at the top of our lungs one minute, then calmly share a glass of Coke a few minutes later before running outside to play ball. The absence of hormonal spikes, excess adrenaline, nervous breakdowns, and all the other bugs of the human body gave me an enormous advantage.
The feeling was actually fantastic. Social interactions and open conflicts had once been difficult for me. I would shut down, carefully filtering every word so I would not accidentally provoke another confrontation. Now I could calmly continue talking to Leon about the weather, stock prices, or whatever other nonsense without the slightest trace of awkwardness. But I simply did not want to. I had absolutely hated his tone. Perfect biochemical balance had made me rational and resilient under stress, but it had not turned me into some guileless pushover who was ready to hug everyone he met.
The vehicle turned onto a narrow dirt road and gently pulled over to pick up another passenger.
“Sam Smith?” I raised an eyebrow slightly as the Hammer’s heavy door swung open.
My former hand-to-hand combat instructor. Instead of his usual snow-white gi and black belt, he was wearing a perfectly pressed dress uniform with a major’s insignia on the shoulders. The formal uniform did nothing to hide his most distinctive features, though: his blindingly shiny bald head, his radiant thirty-two-tooth grin, and the sheer energy he gave off, which instantly made the cabin feel smaller.
“Tom!” he boomed as he climbed inside, then slapped me so hard on the shoulder that my uniform jacket creaked. “A Bronze Star on your very first, essentially training, expedition! Man, I’m damn proud of you! I mean it, I’m incredibly proud!”
“Thanks, Sam,” I replied evenly, taking his emotional outburst in stride. The Hummer surged forward again. “What are you doing on this route?”
“I was officially assigned to the protocol group!” he said with genuine enthusiasm. “I’m your former mentor, and I’ve got a V on my own ribbon bar. Regulations say I have to be there in formation when they present the award!”
“Damn stupid staff regulations,” Leon muttered from the adjacent seat. Next to Sam’s irrepressible enthusiasm, the colonel looked even more dour and smoke-stained. “They drag half a dozen officers out for one piece of metal. Couldn’t they have just mailed it in bubble wrap?”
“Leo, that’d ruin the whole ceremony!” Sam raised a finger in admonishment. “I remember how your eyes lit up when they pinned your first Bronze Star on you!”
“I was a young idiot back then, and I had no idea what real shit smelled like,” Leon shot back in his usual hard-edged manner. “You get excited over every piece of metal like a fox terrier over a sugar bone. To me, they’re just chunks of pressed brass.”
“Don’t sell them short.” Sam shook his head, an iron certainty flashing in his eyes. “No matter how hard the times get, these medals are a symbol. A symbol that we held the line and didn’t let the alien invaders devour our home. It’s only because of strict discipline and people like you and Tom that the civilians out there can sleep peacefully at night.”
“For how long?” Leon tossed out the dry, deliberately provocative question.
There was no answer. A long second of silence settled over the cabin, and I decided to steer the conversation in a more constructive direction.
“You two seem pretty close,” I remarked. “How long have you known each other?”
“Since the very first training camp intake!” Sam immediately brightened at the change of subject. “Same class. You could say we were there at the very beginning of the Corps. Real veterans.”
“Fossils,” Leon put in.
“We were assigned to the same frontline reconnaissance unit right away,” Sam continued, completely ignoring the colonel’s jab.
“Fortunately, it didn’t last long,” Leon snorted. “High command eventually figured out that being around you made me smoke two packs a day, so they sent us to different sectors. Entirely for the sake of preserving my lungs. Yeah, naive staff officers.”
With a touch of cynicism, he patted the pocket of his uniform jacket, where the ends of several cigar tubes protruded.
“Hold on, Sam.” I looked at my former mentor from a new angle. “You’re actually assigned to a combat reconnaissance unit?”
“Teaching hand-to-hand combat and S-Power control is more of a public service, my personal contribution to the younger generation.” Sam smiled warmly, but with restraint. “An Awakened doesn’t get to sit in the rear and administer tests twice a year. Every one of us has a combat unit. I chose reconnaissance. I figure my training does the most good right there on the front line.”
“That’s commendable,” I said calmly, choosing my words carefully. “But aren’t your abilities better suited to defense than offense or deep reconnaissance? I was under the impression your skill set was purely defensive.”
“Oh, you have no idea what this bald-headed ninja can do,” Leon said with a snort, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “He can slip into the heart of an enemy fort like a shadow, drop his [Territory], and cut off the oxygen to the entire complex with a snap of his fingers. A few minutes later, those alien bastards come stumbling outside in a panic, gasping for air, and my boys are waiting for them with machine guns.”
Leon closed his eyes for a moment, as though savoring the memory of a cleanup operation executed to perfection. Sam remained silent, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a restrained yet unmistakable smile. He did not bother denying the obvious.
“What I remember most about that day isn’t the number of enemy bodies. It’s that the entire team came back without a scratch,” Sam added quietly. “That’s why I went into reconnaissance. Real strength isn’t just about breaking bones. It’s about keeping people alive. And speaking of which, Tom... I’m more than certain that’s where you belong. In our organization.”
“I’ve been telling him that for the past half hour,” Leon chimed in, putting on an authoritative air. “Listen, Ross. You may not have the kind of power that turns everything within three miles into rubble, like all these young hotshots running around nowadays, but your brain works the way it should. Analysis. Cold calculation. Command spotted that immediately. Your job is to lead those green kids, boys and girls, and bring them home in one piece, not sit behind a terminal in the engineering department and wipe your ass. Or do you really think this kid behind the wheel is going to keep his shit together and hold formation once the artillery starts pounding the area?”
Hawk, who was driving, flushed to the roots of his hair but said nothing. He clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
“Why are both of you so determined to push reconnaissance?” I asked, voicing the question that had occurred to me. “If senior command needs someone who can lead people on the front lines, why not send me to an assault unit?”
Leon and Sam exchanged glances. For the first time since the trip began, they reacted in perfect unison. Both grimaced as though I had just suggested they walk barefoot through a fresh pile of dog shit.
“Assault troops are dumb, expendable meat,” Leon said bluntly. “They dump everyone there who doesn’t have enough brains or a useful superpower. In short, the rejects.”
“That’s a harsh generalization, but there’s some truth to it,” Sam said evenly.
“Fair enough,” I said with a nod. “But the main job of reconnaissance is to go in first, gather intelligence, and get out, leaving the heavy hitters to move in afterward.”
“That’s true, but you know who ends up leading the assault team during the cleanup?” Leon narrowed his eyes slyly. “One of the scouts. The one who just combed through every inch of the area and knows exactly where a soldier shouldn’t step and where they need to open up with everything they’ve got.”
I nodded. The logic behind the arrangement was obvious. Sending assault troops into an unfamiliar sector with nothing but a hastily sketched map was pure recklessness. Someone who had personally studied the terrain could dramatically increase the team’s chances of survival.
“You’ll go out with us, study the enemy, then take a bunch of greenhorns under your wing and work the mission. That’s real work for a grown man. Plus, reconnaissance always gets first dibs on new gear and weapons,” Leon continued his sales pitch. “Bottom line, think about it, Ross. My instincts about good people have never failed me.”
“Let’s not spend the whole trip talking about your future assignment,” Sam cut in, turning toward me. “Tom, why don’t you tell me what exactly you got the Bronze Star for? You’re the first recruit in Corps history to receive one on his very first deployment.”
“I only have some indirect theories,” I admitted honestly. “I figured the details would become clear once we got there.”
“For crying out loud, kid!” Leon shot another heavy look at the driver. “You managed to screw up the information even here?”
“I’m sorry, sir...” Hawk breathed, turning as red as a boiled lobster.
“To put it simply,” Leon casually took over, “our accountant assessed the situation in the middle of the chaos and went after one particularly nasty bastard on his own, cutting it off before the whole operation went to shit.”
Sam listened carefully to the brief but remarkably concise account. Silence settled over the cabin for several seconds. Then he slowly placed his heavy hand on my shoulder, his expression filled with profound respect.
“You acted like a true master,” he said with complete seriousness. “Your spirit and restraint remind me of Bruce Lee.”
“Oh, no. Don’t start this shit again!” Leon growled, clutching his head.
“Bruce Lee was a great man who achieved perfect balance between the spirit and the physical form,” Sam began with sincere, almost reverent enthusiasm, launching into his favorite subject. There was no stopping him once he got going.
“Sorry, Hawk.” Leon hurriedly pulled a cigar from his pocket and flicked his lighter. “Without a hit of nicotine, there’s no way I’m surviving this philosophy seminar.”
In that particular company, accompanied by cigar smoke and a lecture on the harmony of body and spirit, we finally passed through the last security checkpoint and drove onto the Pentagon grounds. General Crowley was waiting for us ahead.