Scouts Out: Books One and Two

by Danny Loomis

  Ian went to an empty corner and began stretching exercises, followed by a session of an admixture of the self defense moves he’d learned over the years, plus modified Karate forms taught him by Two Eagles.

  Before long he’d attracted several others who began to loosen up and go through their own particular warm-ups.

  “Hi, Irish. Care for a little work-out?” Jonesy asked. He’d joined the group along with the other three ensigns.

  “What? All four of you?” Ian asked with a smile.

  “You might be surprised. Just because you’re a grunt doesn’t mean you know everything there is to know about hand-to-hand combat. It’s one of the more important subjects they teach at the academy.”

  “Then how about you?” Ian asked as he bowed and moved to an on guard stance.

  Without warning Ensign Jones launched himself at Ian with a running side-kick, narrowly missing the startled Ian. Recovering himself, Ian waited for the next attack, which came in the form of a somersaulting roll towards him. Ian stamped down, pinned Jonesy’s right foot to the floor, and gently smacked him in the forehead with the heel of his hand as he tried to rise.

  “Shit!” Jonesy said, and fell on his back. “You made that look easy.”

  Ian shrugged. “Like I said, how about all four of you?”

  Jonesy smiled. “Sure, just give us a minute to strategize this.” They gathered in a huddle, whispering and gesticulating. A larger group began to gather around the mat at the hint of a contest, including several Enforcers.

  “Who gives the signal to start?” Jonesy asked, when all four of them came onto the mat.

  “Your attack will be the signal,” Ian said, moving to the center of the mat. “All I ask is when you feel a blow that hurts, don’t keep going. I don’t want to injure any of you.”

  “Same for you,” one of the others said. Ensign Michaels, thought Ian. The four circled Ian, with slow and purposeful movements. Ian crossed his arms with palms towards his body, crouched into a half-squat and closed his eyes. The four hesitated a moment, then continued their movement around Ian.

  Abruptly two launched an attack from either side. As they did Ian plunged forward, diving at the feet of the one in front of him. He somersaulted and clipped the unlucky ensign full in the face with both feet. Both fell with Ian on top. He rolled away, then reversed his course and swept his extended leg in a half-circle, catching another on the ankle. As he fell, Ian completed his spin and sprang forward, spearing his hand into the man’s throat.

  An upward lunge caught the arm of the third attacker as he attempted a punch, spun him sideways into the other and sent them both sprawling in a tangle of limbs. Immediately he was on them delivering stiff-handed chops to their throats. He backed up and bowed.

  “Damn. And I thought we were good,” Jonesy said as he struggled to his feet. “You think we could take some lessons from you?”

  “If you want to work with some folks who’re really good at this, ask for instruction from the Enforcers. They’re much better than me,” Ian said, indicating the group of masked enforcers who had watched, along with over a dozen others.

  “Thank you for your praise, Ensign Shannon,” the closest enforcer said with a bow. “Your particular style of hand-to-hand is most fascinating. We would appreciate it if you would allow us to take lessons from you.”

  In spite of himself Ian was pleased. “Sure, if you’ll help me with the rest of these folks who want to be trained.”

  “We would be most happy to oblige you,” the enforcer said.

  “Okay, let’s see how many we have,” Ian said. “Everyone wishing some instruction, line up on the mat.” All the watchers lined up, to include the ensigns and Enforcers. Oh, shit, what’ve I gotten myself in for now, thought Ian. There goes extra sack time. He plastered a smile on his face, and got to work.

  VANPORT (DAY +47):

  Major Vogel looked up from his reader at the quiet knock on his door. “Yes?”

  “They’re here Sir,” his Intel officer said. “We’ve installed them in the interrogation room downstairs.”

  “Very good, Konrad.” Vogel came to his feet. “Let’s make sure they’re welcomed properly.”

  Minutes later they entered the interrogation chamber. For the first time in over a month Vogel felt a full grown smile spread across his face as he viewed the two naked forms strapped to stainless steel operating tables. Both prisoners had metal bands around their throats, wrists, ankles and hips. A faint tingle of pleasure ran up his spine.

  “How good to meet you, Staff Sergeant Weiss and Sergeant Two Eagles. It was most gracious of you to join our little party.” Brita and Two Eagles stared expressionlessly at him, and looked away.

  “What, nothing to say?” Vogel moved between the two tables. “It would be most considerate of you to answer a few questions for me. However, I hope you try to stay silent for awhile. I haven’t had a chance to practice my interrogation skills for quite some time.” He traced his fingers down Brita’s form, then Two Eagles.

  Two white-clad forms stepped forward. “Sir, Doctor Spelling and medical technician Bernard at your service. Would you like us to administer the full suite of chemicals?”

  “Not this time, Doctor. At least not yet. Lieutenant Hunfried and I will try other methods first. Why don’t you two take a break? We’ll call when we’re through.”

  A small shudder passed through the doctor. “Of course, Major.”

  Lieutenant Hunfried watched the two hurry out of the room, a smile playing around his mouth. “Shall I unpack our tools, sir?”

  “First let’s move these tables to a vertical position so they can see each other.” Moments later Brita and Two Eagles were facing each other for the first time since their captivity.

  “Hey, Brita, looking good.”

  “Not so bad yourself, Johnny. Other than all your hair’s missing.”

  Two Eagles smiled. “Head wound. You look a little pink between those nice lookin’ breasts. They try to graft another on you?”

  “No, had to replace a spleen and liver. Kept me in the regenerator longer’n I’d ever been before.”

  By this time Vogel’s smile had disappeared. “Maybe a little electric shock therapy will clear your minds, children. Please hold still while we hook you up. Wouldn’t want to miss any vital points, would we?” A small metallic plate was taped to the top of each prisoners head and the bottoms of their feet. Wires ran from the plates to a small box placed on the floor between the two tables. Konrad worked quickly and slathered each with a thick oily substance.

  Vogel detached a thin rod from the side of the small box, and began to tap it on Brita’s table.

  “I need to know where the main headquarters is of the resistance. Also, how many Confederation soldiers were landed, and what weapons do they have?” Both prisoners were silent. Two Eagles closed his eyes and began what sounded like a whispered chant. “What’s that, Johnny? I can’t hear you,” Vogel asked, lightly touching him on the stomach. Two Eagles gasped in agony, convulsing so hard his shackled wrists began bleeding. “Ah. Maybe that got your attention,” Vogel said, and tapped the wand on Brita’s table again. Once more he lightly touched Two Eagles, this time on the genitals. An anguished groan broke from two Eagles as he spasmed, and fell limp.

  “Fetch a restorative, Konrad. We need Johnny awake to appreciate what’s being done.” He turned to Brita, the rictus of a smile on his face. “Do you enjoy watching one of your subordinates suffer? You can stop this any time, you know. Just tell us what we want to know.”

  Hate flowed from her eyes as she glared a hole through him.

  Vogel gave a gentle smile. “Yes, that’s good. Hate makes you last so much longer.” He turned as Konrad stepped back from the now-conscious Two Eagles.

  “Let’s see how many places we can touch on your body before you pass out again,” Major Vogel purred, taking off his jacket.

  The next hour became a timeless pit of horror for Brita who helplessly watched Two Eagl
es tortured beyond human endurance, pass out time after time, only to be brought back to consciousness by Konrad after each session. Finally, blessedly, he remained unconscious despite all of Konrad’s efforts.

  Vogel sighed in exasperation and placed the rod back in its socket. He also removed the grounding plates from Two Eagles. “Konrad, have the doctor see to this one. We need him awake for the next portion of our interrogation.” He turned to Brita with a sardonic smile. “Since you seem to have no feelings towards Johnny-boy, we’ll see how he feels about you.”

  Vogel was amused at the shaken look on the doctor’s face while he worked on Two Eagles. Once finished, the doctor hurried out. Both Lieutenant Hunfried and Major Vogel chuckled as he scuttled away.

  “Alright, Konrad. It’s time to see how resistant Johnny-boy is if his girl friend is being, shall we say, entertained.” He drew the rod from the small case, and proceeded to gently touch Brita on a nipple. She grunted in agony, blood flowing from a bitten lip. Again and again for the next fifteen minutes, Vogel brought forth screams from her.

  Finally he stepped back, and adjusted the dials on top of the box. “At different settings, this rod can either be your best lover or worst enemy.” He stroked Brita, causing her to draw her breath in sharply.

  “Notice how the nipples reacted, Johnny? They seemed to like the pleasure setting.” Again he slowly ran the wand around each aureole of her breasts, and drew it down to her groin. She moaned involuntarily, attempted to raise her hips to meet it. Two Eagles watched in sick horror as the monster before him continued to stroke her with the wand, until she was trembling. He closed his eyes and began a quiet sing-song chant. Abruptly his eyelids were forced open as Major Vogel pushed them up with his thumbs.

  “What is that chant?” he shouted, clearly enraged by Two Eagle’s actions.

  “Death song,” Two Eagles mumbled, a nearly bitten-through tongue causing him to slur.

  Major Vogel’s rage vanished quickly as it had arisen, replaced by a sudden eagerness. “Konrad, tape his eyes open. I think he’ll enjoy the next part.” While Konrad hurried to obey, he stroked Brita faster and more intimately, causing her to shudder. Once he had her twisting from side to side against her restraints, he stroked himself with the rod.

  Konrad held Two Eagles’ head so he was forced to watch as Major Vogel struggled out of his pants. He leaned against Brita, nuzzled and nipped her neck, continuing to run the wand up and down both their bodies. With a gasp she responded to him, turning her head into his with a shivering moan. He unfastened the metal band around her hips.

  “Konrad, unfasten her ankles,” he panted. Once unfastened, Brita raised her legs and spread them as wide as she could at the same time.

  Just as Vogel leaned forward, Brita crossed her legs and began squeezing with all her strength, causing Major Vogel to emit a thin scream. She released him and unleashed a powerful kick to his crotch as he staggered back. With an unearthly shriek he collapsed at her feet. Konrad lunged forward and put his full force into a punch to the side of her head. Her neck emitted a loud pop and she went limp, head at an unnatural angle. Unheedingly he continued to strike her with every ounce of his strength, bellowing a curse with each blow.

  By the time two guards were able to draw him away from Brita, her face was an unrecognizable mask of blood and torn flesh.

  The doctor and nurse unfastened her, carefully laying her on the floor alongside Major Vogel who was just recovering consciousness. “No pulse or respiration,” snapped the doctor. “We need to move her to the regeneration tank immediately!”

  “No,” Konrad shouted as he broke free of the guards. “Forget about that bitch! Get the Major in it, now!”

  “Her first,” Vogel croaked. “If she dies, so do all of you.” He collapsed back to the floor unconscious from the effort, blood still flowing sluggishly from between his legs.

  Hours later Johnny Two Eagles roused from semi-consciousness when the nurse entered his cell, accompanied by a guard. Quickly and impersonally she poked and prodded, checking him for physical damage. “He’ll be alright,” she said and turned to leave.

  “Wait. How—how is Brita?”

  “The woman? Not too well. We had to put her in a stasis chamber to keep her from dying. It’ll take a full scale hospital to treat her. Even then she’ll probably not fully recover.” Her expression softened for a moment. “Don’t worry. We’re not all butchers and perverts around here.” She gave a challenging glare at the guard. “And you can tell that sick sonofabitch what I said. The doctor and I have already reported his actions to the Division Commander, and I hope he gets his balls cut off the rest of the way!”

  Johnny’s eyes lit up with an eerie inner glow. “I thank you. For that you will be spared.”

  The nurse gave him a fearful glance as she left. The door clanged shut. Johnny Two Eagles of the Lakota Sioux tribe, Wolf clan, ceased the death song he’d been singing and humming for hours. Instead he began constructing his war song. Head sunk on his chest, he remained completely still for several minutes. Unexpectedly he raised his head and began a low singing growl:

  “I am Wolf.

  Your blood is mine;

  Your death is mine;

  I am Wolf.”

  Over and over he sang the phrase, until it became a mantra burnt into his soul.

  He laid back on his cot and was immediately asleep. Wolf had arrived. He needed rest. Then he would begin.

  After several more hours, two guards hurried into his cell. He remained still, as if unconscious.

  “C’mon, you shit bird,” the largest said, prodding him. “Up. We’re not carrying you.” Wolf wavered to his feet, seemingly groggy and weak.

  “Hurry it up,” said the second guard. “We’ve got to get you to the airfield. Guess the big brass decided to get you back upstairs for more interrogation.” Roughly he was grabbed and half-carried out of his cell, and down the corridor.

  Wolf slipped out of their grasp when they rounded a corner, and plucked a knife from the sheath of the guard on the right. Spinning to his left he slashed the throat of the largest guard, then plunged it into the chest of the second. Without a sound both dropped to the floor. Wolf retrieved their knives, and silently trotted towards the exit. At the door two guards faced outwards. With inhuman strength Wolf plunged the two blades into the back of each guard’s neck, severing their spinal cords.

  By the time they hit the ground he had reclaimed his knives and sprinted around the corner of the building. The driver of the waiting vehicle gaped in shock, then shouted. A group of guards pounded around the corner in pursuit but drew up in confusion, seeing an empty lot. The Wolf had escaped.

  * * *

  Five days later Major Vogel sat in General Lambert’s office, mind wracked by guilt. What had caused him to carry the interrogation so far? He’d felt himself lose control, but had done nothing to stop. Was he unable to restrain his appetites? In the past he’d been discreet. To give full reign to his impulses in front of witnesses—how stupid!

  “You can go in now,” the General’s aide said.

  He squared his shoulders and entered Lambert’s office, still walking with a limp. “You sent for me, Sir?”

  Lambert leaned back and gave him an unhappy look. “Major, you look like shit.”

  “That’s how I feel, General.”

  “I’ve heard from various sources how you screwed up. Give me your version.”

  Without embellishments or lies, Vogel proceeded to tell him what happened.

  “Goddam, what made you do something that stupid?” Lambert asked.

  “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, Sir. Looking back, I have to agree with you.”

  “I’d normally look the other way on something like this. Unfortunately, you’ve caused us to lose one of the two captives we most needed, and the other is in a stasis tube. Not a very productive interrogation.”

  “I agree with you,” Vogel said. “Sir, would you mind if I sat down? I think I le
ft the regen chamber too soon.” At Lambert’s nod he took a seat, and gave a quiet sigh of relief.

  “The only reason I don’t relieve you of your command is the fact you’ve done a good job up to this point. Don’t disappoint me further, Major, or you’ll be up on charges that’ll put you in the stockade for the rest of your life, no matter whether you’re a political liaison or not. Do you understand?”

  “Completely, General. And I thank you for your forbearance.”

  “Good. Then let’s move on. I’ve drawn back all the attacking forces sent into the tunnels, and readied phase two of the plan. You need to begin movement of your commando battalion by tonight to their staging area. We should be ready to commence our counterattack within the next few days.”

  He slid a data cube across the desk. “Here’s detailed plans, to include the latest information from your tunnel mapping detail. There’s a suspected stronghold twenty-five kilometers from here. That’s your main target. It isn’t important to hold this point, only that you create maximum disruption to their command and control. Any questions?”

  “No, Sir. It looks as if everything is still on schedule. Oh, one question. Any word about the escaped Confederation soldier?”

  “No, but we do have a problem inside the city. Even though the citizens have left the town, it seems there’s a group of Edoans still around who’ve become a thorn in our side. They’ve taken to random acts of violence against our troops. In fact everyone’s morale is affected by their actions. I’ve deployed additional forces to deal with these scum. We should see a stop to these acts of barbarity soon.”

  * * *

  Sergeant Hanford led his five man patrol down the side street, on the lookout for legitimate patrols. Even though groups like his had become more prevalent, it wasn’t too smart to get caught. The guards could only look the other way so long. No telling when they’d crack down on looters. If Corporal Garries had been right, the store he’d been looking for was just around this corner. Ah! Just as he’d been told. He slipped inside the main doors of the largest retail store in town and motioned his troops close.