Tap-Dancing the Minefields

by Lyn Gala

  “So much for teasing you beyond endurance,” Lev teased gently, his breath warm against Tank’s chest.

  “That was my endurance. Yep, I’m all enduranced out.”

  For some time Lev lay silent, his hand wandering over Tank’s overheated body. “You’re a good man, Tank Tankersley. The rest simply doesn’t matter.”

  “Right now, I might even believe that,” Tank whispered.

  Lev inched closer and rested his palm against Tank’s cheek. “I’m going to keep reminding you of it until you believe it all the time.”

  Closing his eyes, Tank leaned in and let his head rest against Lev’s shoulder. After a second, Lev started stroking the back of his head, and that was how Tank fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  THE NEXT morning, a text from Colonel Aldrich sent Tank scrambling out of bed. Lev was already gone, and his side of the bed was cold, so at least he wasn’t there to provide a sexy distraction. Tank had zip-a-dee-doo-dah for self-control when it came to a naked Lev. Tank’s uniform was a little wrinkled, but he was hoping everyone would blame that on going AWOL and not the crazy gay sex.

  Tank had turned into the corridor that led to the office where he’d been ordered to report when he ran into Captain Brian Hoffer. Tank barely braked before he collided with a uniformed Brian.

  Tank gave in to his first instinct to shout “Brian!” but then basic training kicked in. “Shit. It should be ‘captain’ and ‘sir’ and stuff now, shouldn’t it?” Tank grimaced. He really did suck at being a soldier.

  Brian gave Tank a hug. “You can be properly Army next time. Right now I’m just so happy to see you safe that I don’t care.”

  Tank hugged him back, and for one second he felt the hurt of that horrible night. He felt Roger’s blood on his hands and saw Ellie’s sightless eyes staring at nothing. The flash of pain was there, but it didn’t swallow him whole anymore. The memory passed, and Tank stepped back. “I am so sorry I dragged you into this.”

  “I’m not,” Brian said firmly. “You guys were kids. You needed help, and I will never regret getting involved.”

  “Yeah, but then I dragged you into the government conspiracy.” Tank gestured around them. Brian had always insisted that after Afghanistan he was done with the Army and orders and missions, and here he was back in Army Secrets Central taking orders.

  “And for that I should thank you,” Brian said firmly. “I left because I couldn’t believe in what I was doing anymore. I had spent too much time following questionable orders. I’ve had a taste of what General Zeller and the others are doing, and this is a mission I can one hundred percent believe in. If I didn’t want to serve my country, I wouldn’t have joined in the first place, and this unit reminds me of all the best reasons for being in the Army. The general has offered me a position, and I’m taking it.”

  “You’re coming to Alaska?” Tank did want that, but it would be weird to have so many people who remembered him as a kid around the base. At least Brian didn’t have any really damning stories, not like Zhu.

  “No. I’m not ready to live on base again. But they need people to actually keep an eye on the big cities. Apparently their computer programs aren’t finding all the alien activity they assumed, so I’m going to take lead in New York, and hopefully Staff Sergeant Holmes will agree to come back on the payroll.”

  “Will he?” Tank had the feeling that Eric was more about avoiding all human interaction. Some days Eric wouldn’t even talk to him or Brian.

  “The program has a lot of old WWII and Cold War hidey-holes. Eric would probably be more comfortable jungling up in those than in an apartment, and if he’s on the payroll, he’d have the keys. It could work for him.”

  Tank hated the thought of Eric always ghosting his way through the city. Maybe it was because Tank could now see that he had been on that same pathway back when he’d been trying to ignore all his feelings. “Wouldn’t it be better to get him some help?”

  “One step at a time,” Brian said. “Let him get back in place financially, and then I’ll help him set up an apartment. Hopefully he might start using it, but trying to force him to deal with everything at once wouldn’t help. People have to save themselves—we can only make it easier. And speaking of, are you getting help for yourself?”

  “I feel like making a joke and then distracting you from the question, but the fact that I’m not going to is probably a good sign. There are good days and bad.” The weirdest part was that Tank still never knew when bouts of guilt or fear would hit. He should have been terrified when Chow had confronted him, but that was when he’d been calm and collected. Sitting in a dorm room after the fight should have been his happy place, but he’d panicked enough that he went AWOL and headed for a seedy bar. The logic of that was less than logical.

  “That’s true of all of us—good days and bad. But I don’t want to keep you.”

  “Yeah. Colonel Aldrich ordered me to report to one of these rooms, and I really don’t want to piss him off. He’s not a half-bad guy, but he’s a little scary.”

  Brian snorted. “Yes, yes, he is. Stay on his good side.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tank said with a grin. Brian gave him a soft slap upside the head as if they were back in his apartment playing video games and talking asymmetrical warfare. Good times. And Tank did realize that his definition of “good times” failed to meet any standard definition. Brian walked off toward the stairs Tank had just come up, and Tank headed to the conference room.

  When Tank opened the door, he was shocked to find only one person waiting for him—General Zeller. For a moment Tank had a silent panic as he assumed he had walked into the wrong place, but this was definitely where the colonel had ordered him to go. And while Tank believed that Colonel Aldrich was absolutely capable of practical jokes, this seemed a little extreme.

  Then the general said, “Come in, Private.”

  With nothing else he could do, Tank stepped into the meeting room and saluted the general. “Reporting as ordered, sir.” Heart failure hadn’t worked as an excuse during second-year algebra, but Tank was considering trying that ruse again.

  “At ease, Private.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tank had no idea how to talk to a general, but if he ignored the uniform, Zeller almost looked amused.

  “I take it you were expecting the colonel,” the general said.

  “Yes, sir. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, sir. It’s just—” There was no way for Tank to gracefully end that statement, so he just shut up.

  Zeller smiled and gestured toward a seat. The room only had one small table with four chairs, which would put Tank way too near a general, but he didn’t have much choice. Tank was already moving toward the chair when Zeller said, “Take a seat. I’d like to talk to you about your future.”

  That sounded ominous, especially the morning after Tank had gone AWOL for the second time. “Does this future involve iron bars and jail cells?” he asked.

  Zeller’s eyebrows went up. “Should it?”

  “Definitely not. Absolutely not, in fact, sir,” Tank blurted. He could practically hear Zhu telling him to shut up.

  Instead of following up on the obvious question of what illegal things Tank had been up to, Zeller said, “I have received an unusual number of requests regarding your placement.”

  Tank’s stomach dropped, and he hoped that “placement” wasn’t a nice word for dissection. “Is this about me being a clone?”

  Zeller’s voice rose significantly. “Excuse me? Did you just say you were a clone?”

  “I thought Lev had told you that.” Tank cringed. He really needed to not talk around other humans.

  “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”

  “For the clone stuff, it only goes back to last night, sir,” Tank said. He tried to organize his thoughts so he didn’t go blathering all over a general. “Colonel Aldrich told me he ran my DNA, and my father is not my father, but he also said I had all German DNA. My mother is a Scot and
Indian, so she can’t be my biological mother, although I know she gave birth to me. Lev said that aliens did some experiments with clones, and he said I might be one, and since Lev is so smart….” Tank let his words trail off. That argument wasn’t as convincing after a night’s sleep.

  “Aliens have also implanted women with fertilized eggs that are not clones. Dr. Underwood might be a world-renowned expert on alien technology, but whether you’re a clone or not is simply speculation,” General Zeller said.

  “And will my potential cloneness affect my—I don’t know—my anything, sir?” Tank braced himself for bad news. In science fiction movies, clones and robots always got screwed over.

  “Hundreds if not thousands of humans have been involved in alien experiments. Worldwide the number is incalculable. The fact that your involvement in the Incursion Force has led you to discover your status does not affect your legal rights or your position in the Army.”

  “Thank God.” Tank let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I mean, sir.”

  “From that reaction, can I assume you would like to remain in the Army?”

  “When I signed up, the recruiter pretty well suggested that for the next few years, staying was mandatory.” Tank grinned, but General Zeller’s expression turned more serious.

  “Your recruiter was unaware of the fact that you are clearly suffering from PTSD.”

  Tank’s stomach knotted. He hadn’t known that was going to hurt so much. “You’re kicking me out?” He tried to keep his voice steady.

  “Some have suggested that an honorable discharge and mental health services would be the most appropriate way to help you. However, I’m not convinced. That’s why I’m asking you what you want, Private Tankersley.”

  Tank stared blankly at the general. He wasn’t tracking this conversation well, and experience had taught him to shut up when he was this confused.

  “Son, do you want a medical discharge and a job working with Captain Hoffer as a consultant helping to monitor for alien activity?”

  “Permission to speak freely?”

  General Zeller smiled. “I may regret this, but granted.”

  “That would suck, sir,” Tank announced. “I have never sat back while other people fought the bad guys, and maybe I’m more sidekickish than the starring hero, but I got in there and fought every time. I don’t want to sit home knowing that other people are fighting and I’m not helping them. I know I’m not great with Army rules—and trust me, lots of NCOs have questioned how well I fit into the Army—but I’d like to stay.”

  For a long time, General Zeller seemed to think about that in silence. Tank was mentally packing his bags by the time Zeller said, “Private, I believe you have just given the best reason in the world for joining the Army, and I do not see your contributions as those of a sidekick. However, you still have a few choices. Dr. Underwood wants you to have the opportunity to take engineering classes and qualify for the officer training program. He sees in you a natural talent with physical science.”

  Tank appreciated a compliment as much as the next person, but he had to be honest. “Sir, no offense, but he might not be objective.”

  Zeller chuckled. “That had occurred to me. However, I understand you did some work with Dr. Underwood in the reverse-engineering department.”

  “A little, sir.” Between washing dishes and going AWOL, Tank had only managed to do a couple of shifts as Lev’s unofficial intern.

  “Some of the other engineers in his unit have spoken to Colonel Aldrich and Major Sadler about your talents. They were impressed.”

  Tank resisted an urge to say that the scientists needed to get out more if they found Tank impressive. Their standards were a little low. “I’ve seen some of this tech before, sir. I had an unfair advantage.”

  “Private, those men and women have doctoral degrees in a wide range of fields—and they have not only been working with the tech, but they understood the alien nature of the equipment. You impressed them. I tend to believe my experts in the field when they say you have the raw talent to get a science degree and move into the officer ranks.”

  “I’m afraid I would suck as an officer.” Tank figured it was a pretty reasonable assumption.

  This time Zeller laughed. “I’m sorry to say that fear never goes away, even when they promote you to general. However, you’ve already proven that you can deal with the likes of Chow.”

  “Aliens masquerading as demons, no problem. But, sir, I don’t think I could deal with terrorists or fighting humans.” Frankly the idea made the animal part of Tank’s brain run around in circles and scream. He thought he could smell the stagnant water and fresh blood from that abandoned building where Roger and Ellie had died, and that wasn’t a good sign. Tank was saying no to any and all killing of humans.

  “I doubt you will ever get a transfer outside of the IF, simply because we need good people. Unless the alien activity goes public, no one in authority is going to take a soldier experienced with incursions and move them into a standard unit.”

  “How sure are you that I wouldn’t get transferred to Afghanistan?” Sometimes when Brian had a few beers, he talked more about his time in the war, and now that Tank was being more honest with himself, he was almost sure he couldn’t handle shit like that without losing his mind.

  “For seventy years the aliens have remained invested in keeping most humans ignorant of their actions. If the general public knew about these incursions, there would be no need for the aliens to take such care to hide themselves. The fear is that they could become much more aggressive. Even during the height of the Cold War, the world powers worked together to keep the alien activities quiet and avoid any measures that might escalate the conflict. Until humans have a way to fight back and an understanding of alien technology, we will continue to minimize our response in order to avoid escalating the problem. Part of that is keeping any officers or soldiers trained in incursions in the IF. Now, how long do you think it will take us to fully understand alien technology?”

  Tank snorted. “Not in my lifetime, sir.”

  “Then I can safely say that you will never have to serve outside the IF. However, Colonel Aldrich is vehemently opposed to Dr. Underwood’s suggestion.”

  That betrayal hit Tank harder than he wanted to admit. “Is he the one who wants to throw me out?”

  “You misunderstand. He approves of you getting a degree and working toward becoming an officer. However, he wants you to specialize in asymmetrical warfare and ground combat and train with his soldiers. According to the colonel, if you have to sit back and twiddle your thumbs while someone else clears the field for you, your head might explode.”

  “Oh.” That did sound like the colonel.

  “Colonel Aldrich does have a colorful way of phrasing his opinions.”

  “And he might be right, sir.”

  “He often is. However, training for a combat position will require you to get extensive help for the bad habits developed during your adolescence.”

  “Yeah, the whole panicking and running away when there’s no danger and then running at danger when I can see it… that’s what you mean, right?”

  The general paused for a long time, and Tank was afraid he might have said something wrong. “PTSD, yes,” General Zeller said. “Remaining in the field is going to pose certain problems. I am also concerned that you have learned to take bigger risks and engage more aggressively than our rules allow.”

  “Can I do both?” Tank asked. “I mean with the science and fighting stuff, not with the posing problems. Sir, I really like the science, and taking stuff apart is sort of my happy place—it makes sense to me—but the colonel is right that I don’t want to be waiting in the van while other people clear a building.”

  “Most incursions are small. Dr. Underwood regularly goes in with the team. The sorts of large incursions you’ve grown up in the middle of, those are rare.”

  “‘Once in a lifetime’ rare?”

  Gener
al Zeller pursed his lips. “‘Once or twice in a decade’ rare.”

  “Is that in our territory or around the world?”

  “Just in our territory,” General Zeller said. Tank wondered how long that was averaged over and whether the number of major incursions was going up, going down, or steady. Given that his group had grown up in the middle of an alien conspiracy that hadn’t been discovered for years, Tank figured the official estimates probably left out a lot of experiments that hadn’t gotten caught.

  “I would still like training so I can be on the front with Colonel Aldrich and John, but can I do that and still study science?”

  The general studied him for a time. “Major Sadler managed to do both, but that’s a long and difficult path.”

  Tank nodded. “I don’t know if I can do it, but I’d like to try, sir.”

  The general gave him a grandfatherly smile. “That’s an admirable decision. You can take most of the academic courses online, especially given that you are supposed to be stationed in Alaska. However, combat training will require long periods away from the unit.”

  The idea of being away from the team sent nervous flutters through Tank’s stomach. Lev and Colonel Aldrich and Major Sadler and John understood him. They weirdly liked him. The idea of taking combat training with other people worried him. “How long, sir? And couldn’t I train with John?”

  “Weeks or potentially months. You would have to make a longer commitment to the program, and you would need to go through official combat training. Mr. Doe has admirable skills, and I would recommend you work with him, but the Army has a lot to teach you as well. Besides, I understand Ms. Byrne has taken a part-time consulting position with the IF and has asked to train with Mr. Doe, so he may not have unlimited time.” The general stood, and Tank shot to his feet. “Don’t make a quick decision. Think about it. Talk to Dr. Underwood and Colonel Aldrich.”