by Ava D. Dohn
SECTION 17
INTO THE FRYING PAN
A quaking jolt shook the command room. Lights flickered as dust drifted down from cracks in the wall. A two-inch square chunk of cement fell from the ceiling, landing with a ‘thump!’ on the terrain map Chasileah was perusing.
Jonathan jumped to his feet, exclaiming, “That one was close!”
Chasileah didn’t flinch. She continued studying the layout and position of the army.
Another concussive blast violently rocked the underground bomb-proof, nearly knocking people off their feet. Jonathan cried out, “Whoa, there! The next one’ll bring the roof down!”
Looking over her shoulder through the dust-choked air, Chasileah calmly reassured Jonathan, “That blast was over half a league away. The hard rock core of these hills makes the shock wave travel great distances. We could easily take a direct hit from a half-tonner.” She turned back to the map, mumbling, “Probably wouldn’t shake us as bad...”
Jonathan made his way over to Chasileah and tried to concentrate on the map, hoping it would help him ignore the continual rumble and shaking reverberating across the command room. For a quarter of an hour he watched as the major jotted notes on a scrap of paper, made calculations and, using some kind of protractor and scale, measured distances on the topographical battlefield. More than once she would casually brush away powdery chunks of concrete that fell from the ceiling.
“There!” Chasileah exclaimed standing up straight and stretching, smiling with satisfaction. “I think I’ve plotted a quick course to get us up to the front command post.”
“We’re going to the front command post?!” Jonathan asked nervously. “Isn’t this the front command post?”
The major stared at Jonathan in puzzlement. She finally grinned, questioning his bravery and gallantry with pretend surprise. Chasileah understood what her junior aide was going through. This was his first combat experience with modern warfare. To complicate matters more he, being a staff officer, hadn’t received as intensive a training as was afforded officers bound for combat duty. The boom of big guns and missiles could unnerve even hardened veterans. Jonathan was doing quite well, considering.
Chasileah patted Jonathan on the arm. “I have information that must be delivered to General Bortaiac. We dare not send any transmissions for fear the enemy will pick them up. Courier is the only way to deliver them. I personally know the general. He will accept these orders have come from the commander in charge.”
The woman drew Jonathan to the map. “Now take a look. The front command post is here, some two leagues west of our location. It’s on the south rim of the Spider’s Lair. We can take the tunnels most of the way, but reports indicate these areas must currently be traversed above ground and on foot - if we’re to make time, that is.”
Looking up at the wall clock, Chasileah explained, “It’s half past the morning watch hour. We must leave now in order to make the command post before sunrise.” She pointed to a small group of battle-ready soldiers. “The sergeant and her squad will accompany us.” Then, turning back to Jonathan, she commanded, “I still want you to be fully prepared. Suit up in battle gear and take one of those rapid-fire guns with you, too.”
Patting him on the arm, Chasileah added, “Not everyone out there are friendlies. If I say ‘shoot’, you shoot to kill! Got it?”
“Shoot to kill...” Jonathan nervously replied. “Shoot to kill...”
The two suited up, grabbed their weapons and prepared to leave. As they neared the door, a soldier in a grimy, disheveled uniform rushed in. “Major Chasileah? Is there a Major Chasileah here?”
Chasileah waved her down.
The out of breath courier handed her a crumpled envelope. “For you, Major... From headquarters...”
Chasileah tore open the envelope, removing a tattered paper on which someone had scrawled a message. As she read the contents, her face paled. For several seconds she stood there, numbly holding the scribbled note.
The soldier’s voice broke the silence. “Is there a reply, Major? Do you have a word of reply?”
As if shaken from some trance, Chasileah started, “No…no…oh, yes…thank Command for the courtesy of informing me.” She stuffed the note in her shirt.
The soldier saluted and left. Jonathan, seeing the distraught look on Chasileah’s face, asked if something was wrong.
Chasileah refitted her helmet, wiped a finger across an eye, and sternly replied, “I have other things more pressing to deal with. Time is no friend right now.” She motioned the others to follow. As she passed Jonathan, he heard her curse beneath her breath, “The Devil take us all sooner or later!”