Lost Dawns: A Short Prequel Novel to the Lost Millinnium Trilogy

by Mike Shepherd

  The sweet collie, Mist, she could handle. Frieda, the German shepherd looked like she wanted to take Launa's arm off and almost did under the watchful eye of the trainer who showed the dog's attack skills. But it was Alert who almost drove Launa around the bend.

  A cross between a great Dane and some Viking’s castle, the dog was immense and constantly living up to her name, searching everywhere, eyeing everything, chasing anything.

  In that one afternoon the trainers poured as much information into the two soldiers as the time allowed, even showing them how to use Frieda on a search. Launa got over the worst of her terror. Jack made it clear that he considered the dogs a critical part of the team, but Launa wondered if either of them knew enough to get one tenth out of the dogs that they had to offer.

  Launa enjoyed the time she spent with Judith and Maria. She knew she was trying to gather a lifetime of wisdom from these two women who had lived such different lives from each other and the one Launa had planned for herself. Yet they both seemed to have a peace about them. The one thing she did not do was quiz them on Jack. As much as she wanted to know more about him, it did not seem honorable to pump his friends behind his back.

  * * *

  One of Launa's most memorable afternoons was with Maria. The cook took Launa in an old pick-up to several plant reserves. As they walked across a field, Maria pointed out a plant that softened the pain of childbirth. She pulled a root from the ground and offered it to Launa to taste. When it was sweet, it was food. When bitter, it was good for controlling fever.

  Maria was a walking encyclopedia of plants. She shared with pride that her daughter was finishing a Ph.D thesis on the medicinal properties of prairie vegetation. Launa suspected the daughter got more of her knowledge from home than lectures and libraries.

  Launa ended the afternoon shaking her head.

  "I can tell ninety-five different armored fighting vehicles at a glance and identify most combat aircraft from any aspect. But both times I took survival training, the instructors just told us to watch what the animals ate and eat small portions until you knew it was okay. Beyond naming a rose or a lily or a dandelion, I don't know a thing about plants."

  Maria pulled the truck over to the side of the road. "Child, how could you live so long and know so little?"

  "I grew up Army. All I had to know about trees was not to run my tank into one. Bushes were for camouflage. Food came from rations or McDonalds. Medicine was what you got from the first aid kit or at sick call." Launa shrugged. "I thought I was pretty well prepared to survive."

  Maria shook her head. "We must help you. My daughter has a book that is very old and has many pictures. It has much to say to you. You can study it and maybe take it with you." Maria smiled knowingly.

  Launa nodded; there was so much to learn and so little time. Yet, it was fun and exciting. Here people shared what they knew without pressure or expectations. These were good days.

  Even when some unconfirmed and vague rumor caused the alert status to go up a notch and the ranch hands to wear sidearms, Launa hardly spared a moment from her thirst for learning.

  AP headlines for May 25, 1999

  INSURANCE BAILOUT HEARINGS TODAY

  Slide in Real Estate Market Raises Price Past Three Trillion

  MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH ON AIDS

  New Wonder Drug takes on all Viruses

  Doctors Expect to use it on Everything

  From Cancer to the Common Cold

  Years of testing still required

  QUIET MAN CHARGED IN GREEN RIVER MURDERS

  Clues found on 247th Victim's Body Lead Police to Make Arrest

  RIOTS BREAK OUT IN CHINA

  Young Couples Protest "No Child" Tax

  FOREIGN MINISTERS TO MEET IN NAIROBI

  US and EURO Ministers to Meet with African Ministers

  Trade and Foreign Aid to be on the Table

  DEBATE ON OLD GROWTH CONTINUES DESPITE

  SPOTTED OWL EXTINCTION

  Barred Owl Did It, Government Scientists Report

  Just Nature’s Way, says Interior Secretary

  7

  Jack was sitting down to breakfast when the Communication Tech appeared at his elbow. With her close cropped hair, ramrod back and muscled shoulders, the tech was probably the only person on the ranch who looked the Agency type.

  The message was directed to Samantha first, Jack second.

  Samantha was sleeping in late. Dick had introduced her to western dancing and she had acquired a Stetson, boots and tight jeans. Their nights were spent in town; she rarely breakfasted before eight o'clock. At least now Jack did not have to hide like a buck on the opening day of hunting season every time he saw her.

  Jack read the message through slowly, initialed the form and returned the clip board to the tech. She came to attention, gave him a quick nod and left.

  He turned to the others. "We are in a two week stand down," he said.

  "What's that mean?" Launa asked.

  "Admiral Benson says to assume the mission will not be activated while they're making a major effort to resolve things diplomatically. I imagine the cowpokes should be turning in their guns."

  "I'm old enough to remember Pearl Harbor." Brent frowned.

  Judith handed Jack the day's AP news brief. "There isn't much here about Africa. Did the Admiral tell you more?"

  Jack glanced at the three cryptic lines. "France and Chad arranged a summit of foreign ministers through the old Organization for African Unity. With the Movement so shadowy, there's no formal machinery for folks to approach it. The OAU has been pretty moribund, but it's a recognized institution where people can talk. At the economic summit last week, the Big Seven settled on a package of trade and economic aid they think will defuse the African problem."

  Jack sliced a pear while the others thought.

  When Judith raised her juice tumbler, four glasses clinked to her toast, "To peace in our time."

  Brent grimaced. Jack wondered if she intended the full ambiguity of Chamberlain's boast after Munich.

  The meaning was not lost on Launa; her tight smile showed full understanding.

  Despite the stand down order, they adjourned to their conference room right on schedule. Brent led off the session with a discourse on the finer points of Roman logic as exemplified by Cicero's arguments against Cato.

  Jack had trouble keeping his mind on the lecture. He had always assumed a C-5 circling the local airport might be their first notice to pack up and go. Now that he had two weeks to plan for, he began thinking how to make the best use of the time.

  Equipment was fine. No one knew if he should be taking bronze or copper wood working tools, but he had a good set of both. The ponies met his specs, not award winners, but the most durable. The dogs were a good combination and highly trained. Now, he and Launa fed them, played with them and ran with them. Unlike the stallions, the dogs were all bitches, two already pregnant.

  There was only one concern left.

  Launa.

  She did everything well, of course, but she had never operated without a safety net. Marilyn's casual remark about Launa's youth and inexperience kept nagging at him. What if he died and she was on her own? God knows that was possible. Launa needed a confidence building experience. She needed to spend time in the woods on her own.

  Yes, that would do it.

  Another part of his brain told him this was all bullshit.

  He was the problem, not Launa. He was the one who hated the thought of her alone in a primitive and hostile world. His "hero" pedestal was getting attractive again, the quiet voice warned him.

  He had a defense against his scolding self.

  If the time came where she was separated or on her own, she needed this experience to draw on, to boost her confidence in herself. This was a reasonable extension of her mission preparation. Jack was sure of that.

  He just wished his stomach had not gone so sour.

  During the break, he excused himself and made a phone call.
/>   * * *

  After the morning session ended, he and Launa dressed for a work out. When she came out of her room, he beckoned her.

  "I want to check the horses. Got a minute?"

  She smiled and went along with him.

  At the corral, he whistled to three quarter horses. Despite the heat wave, the ponies left their shade and trotted to him at his call.

  As Windrider and Big Red took the sugar cubes he had brought, Launa fed an apple to Star, the chestnut she had chosen.

  "Why not Percherons? Marilyn has one."

  "Have you ever tried riding one of those monsters? They're a real pain in the ass. Besides this little paint reminds me of the horse my grandfather gave me the summer I turned thirteen." He stroked the muzzle of his pony, then turned to her.

  "Grandfather took me on a three-day ride. We ended up at the sweetest spring right in the middle of the desert. It must be the only swimming hole in the state of Arizona." He leaned on the corral; Launa's face showed keen interest in his story.

  "I'm swimming around, cool for the first time in a week, just having a ball like any kid, when I look up and there's my grandfather. He's on his pony, with my clothes slung across my horse, leading it off. I screamed `Grandfather!' He hollered back `The house is a three day walk that a way.'" Jack pointed to the east with his entire hand, not just one finger, as his grandfather had done.

  Launa listened, one foot resting on the lower rail. Jack had not seen her so attentive since the plane flight out. This was going easier than he expected.

  "By the time I got out, grandfather was long gone. I started walking. For the next three days, I ate roots, bugs and a couple of lizards. I scooped water out of cactus. Even flaking out under a bush during the worst of the mid-day sun, I made it back in the three days he gave me. Exhausted and sun burned as hell, I walked in the house, went straight for the kitchen sink and drank a gallon of water. Grandfather kept right on watching `I Love Lucy.'"

  Jack settled back against the rail. Launa smiled. Grandfather's taste in television had not sounded Indian to Jack in those days either. "After I got dressed, he took me into town and bought me a Coke and a rifle. That was when he taught me to shoot. He said if I could take care of myself on the desert, I could take care of a gun."

  At that moment, an old Huey flew over. It was low and had used the barn to mask its approach -- savvy pilot. It landed in the open area next to the corrals. Jack motioned Launa to it, then ran for the open door.

  She followed, frowning. Once aboard, they buckled in and Jack waved to the pilot to take off. He had already told him where to land.

  Launa leaned over and shouted. "What's up?"

  The UH1D always had been a noisy bird; this old buzzard was no exception. Jack hollered. "Wait until we're back on the ground. Okay?"

  Launa grimaced and sat back in her seat, her face a mass of storm clouds.

  Thirty minutes later, the chopper settled into a small clearing next to a rock strewn brook.

  Jack got out, moving at a crouch until he was away from the rotor blades, then walked quickly to the banks of the stream. Launa followed.

  With the helicopter engine at idle, they could talk.

  Jack turned to Launa. "You need a confidence building experience. A good survival hike will show you what you've got. That will be a big help after we make our jump." He made sure to keep the confidence in his voice.

  Launa's eyes narrowed to slits. Her hands clenched into fists that landed on her hips. "Captain, I have better things do with my time than wasting it running around the boonies. I know this stuff. I don't need to prove it to myself, you or anybody."

  Jack swallowed. He had stated his case. He had taken the high ground. He did not have to defend it.

  That he could not defend it only made it worse.

  Launa scowled and began to redden. "I'm not a thirteen-year-old. I know my shit."

  Jack folded his arms across his chest, set his face like flint and shook his head firmly. "Lieutenant, this mission depends on every fiber of your body knowing you know this stuff. You need this practice run."

  ***

  Launa felt her face flush. Jack had been flaky all morning. When he opened up about his grandfather, she had hoped he was finally going to let her in.

  Well look where that little chat led.

  Taking two steps back, she folded her arms across her chest and let her face go to stone. "God damn it to hell, you're pulling this Captain - Lieutenant crap on me again. You said we wouldn't do that."

  Shit, she was cussing like a trooper. She hated when she did that.

  Jack said nothing, just did his rock imitation.

  Like the colonel, he had spoken. Like hell she would put up with this. A rock could be out maneuvered. She whirled and stalked toward the Huey.

  Jack grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. Her fighting instincts took hold. She barely pulled the punch she aimed at his gut.

  His right froze inches away from her left.

  For the moment they stood stock still, glaring at each other.

  Launa raced through her options. He would not let her back to the chopper without a fight. If the two of them went hand to hand, it would not matter who won, the mission was lost. As so often with the colonel, logic left her one option – do it his way.

  She relaxed out of her fighting stance, took a step back and stood up to her full five foot four.

  "God damn you, you pig headed, macho son-of-bitch. You can do this to me, Captain. But you're fucking up and you know you're fucking up."

  She stomped past him toward the stream. His face stayed hard as iron as she passed.

  "Lieutenant, I'll trouble you for your sandals."

  Launa whirled back to face him. "Shit! Didn't your grandfather leave you your boots?" She waited for Jack to answer, but he was giving an Oscar winning performance as a clam.

  "God damn it, Jack. We're taking sandals with us. I'm not going to be left barefoot and pregnant."

  Now what Freudian slip made her say something stupid like that. It did not matter. Jack said nothing.

  "Hell! Damn! Shit!" As she stooped to take off her sandals, her anger went from red hot to white hot to glacial cold.

  She stood up and threw her sandals at his feet.

  "Your grandfather left you bare ass naked didn't he?"

  Again Jack said nothing. Did his jaw drop a fraction of an inch?

  In one fluid motion, Launa stripped off her shorts and top and threw them down beside her sandals. Naked, defiant, defenseless, she faced him.

  Jack stooped to collect her clothing. When he stood up again, they stood as armies arrayed for battle. Smoldering eyes glared from stony battlements that had been faces.

  Jack spoke, emotionless, into the silence.

  "Fifty miles downstream is an abandoned cabin. We'll leave a transmitter under the porch. Call us for pick up when you get there."

  Now it was Launa's turn to refuse any reaction.

  Jack gave her an almost imperceptible nod, turned and walked the distance to the chopper. Strapping himself in, he looked back at her. Their gazes locked.

  Defiant, she put her hands on her hips, refusing to hide her nakedness from his eyes.

  Without taking his eyes from her, he signaled the pilot. The Huey rose into the air and quickly disappeared over the tree tops.

  Launa watched the helicopter go, eyes blinking rapidly. The rotors kicked up a lot of dust; the rule book said to look away. Damn the rule book.

  Damn his eyes.

  He better have liked what he saw. Probably did, he had seen it before. Damn him and his dead wife.

  Damn her eyes. Between the dirt and anger, she was about to start crying like a baby. Why in the name of all that's good, holy and military did she have to cry when she got emotional?

  She did not mind crying when she was happy, but, shit, why cry when you're mad? She rubbed her arms, restoring warmth, while considering what to do next.

  "He's gone, you're here
. Now let's clean up your language, clean up your act and get this show on the road."

  That was the logical side of her talking. It had gotten her marooned here.

  "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she screamed at the mountains.

  That was the emotional side of her that had gotten her into this assignment without a moment's reflection.

  "Why didn't that idiot listen when I told him I did jungle survival in Panama when I was fifteen and desert survival in Bahrain when I was seventeen. Talking to Jack is like talking to the Colonel."

  Launa stomped toward the brook, then froze as her mind went over their argument. She had said she knew her stuff, but she had not told him why.

  "Damn!" Her temper had done it to her again. Jack must have been checking her personnel folder. Of course they do not keep any paper work when an army brat sneaks through a program. Her explorer status was enough leverage to make it possible, but no one put it in an Army records.

  Jack had jumped to the wrong conclusion on her again and she had gotten mad and forgotten how to communicate, again. "Damn!"

  Then she laughed; it came out a solid belly laugh. "Well, girl, if you can laugh at yourself, you'll live."

  She took a deep breath; the scent of pines and water came with it. She looked around her. "Not a bad place to work."

  Carefully, she trod the stones to the brook, knelt to wash her face and took a drink. The water looked clean, but she knew that could be deceiving. They would get gamma globulin shots before they jumped; they had not yet.

  "Didn't think about that, oh all-knowing one, did you?" The words she aimed at the departed chopper dripped sarcasm as water dribbled down her chin.

  She started downstream, thinking as she went. Food, shelter, clothing were the priorities. She could do without food for five days according to the book. Why in hell couldn't Jack have waited until after lunch for this damn fool stunt?

  Her stomach rumbled; she was hungry.