5 Years After (Book 2.5): Smoke & Mirrors

by Correll, Richard

  “I love you, sis.” Maggie said it with intensity.

  “……….love……..too,………” The signal faded and finally terminated. Damn it, Maggie looked up at the ceiling and tried to guess what was going on. She came up with a blank. It felt like the world was dangling from the most delicate of threads. Everything, Maggie on the inside, Molly, this country if she was reading Roberts right back in Kingston. We all were suspended above some invisible tipping point by a thread. Her attention became diverted to row after row of green canvas bags slowly swaying to the bus and its rhythm. At least Molly was safe and drunk. That was a double positive.

  How about you? Maggie tried not to think about what was inside and awakening within her. Are you okay?

  Of course not…….

  Why is it when you feel like your world is getting ready to implode you have to help out someone else? The idea of burdening Molly with the shakes, anger and anxiety that would crawl around inside Maggie was unthinkable. Her sister was already dealing with enough. Maggie could just imagine what the big picture looked like in a newsroom. Maybe that’s why they had the conversation. It was just an overwhelming day. Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that…….

  But what about you?

  Maybe that’s what you have to do to feel normal again. What are you, some kind of martyr? Why can’t you just call Molly when you find a land line and let yourself unpack some emotional baggage? She’s your sister, that’s what she’s there for. Maggie found herself staring at the Blackberry in her hand for a long minute or two. I don’t know, she had to conclude the thought. I just don’t know.

  Maggie unfocused for a second and allowed her thoughts to wander back to Roberts, Davidson and the others she had met. They seemed to try and display the calm discipline of a government in good working order. Instead, they were like officers on a sinking ship. The chain of command had yet to collapse but was already showing signs of fray at the edges.

  “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Maggie could still see the intensity in Davidson’s eyes.

  Maggie watched the slow figures by the side of the road as they were watching her back. They don’t fight one another. They are like droplets of water, part of a fast rolling wave that pounds the shore into submission over the eons of time. They are one direction, one objective. Pack mind, pack mentality.

  “That is why they are winning.” She heard herself whisper, damn, did I just lie to Molly?

  The first three were picked up in Orillia. The first up was a lean, wolf of a man with a snarl for an expression. He gave her the once over and his expression deepened. He came to attention slowly as Maggie began walking toward him, if they were going to have problem. Let’s get it over with now. Her shoulders hunched and she forced herself into a bad mood.

  “Ma’am,” His salute was lazy and slow. “Sergeant Gyles, I brought these two useless fucks along.”

  Maggie had already seen them over his shoulder. The first was a large, round faced boy with glasses. His face was lowered, like a beaten dog. He heard what the Sergeant said and lowered his eyes even more. The second was the nervous type. He scanned the surroundings with brown, curious eyes. His skin was almost the color of olive. His curly black hair was short, tight to his scalp. He seemed to take the Sergeant’s observation in stride. He was like a kid in a high school hallway who gets tripped and decides to move on. That’s no way to treat your people, Maggie eyes burrowed into Gyles without a blink.

  “I’ll decide how useful they are, Sergeant.” Maggie’s mouth moved enough to show her teeth. “Not you. Have I made myself clear?”

  There was a pause in the atmosphere. She watched the fiery confidence in Gyles’ eyes wink out as he was brought back down to earth. Behind him, the big kid paused and looked up for a moment. There was a note of confusion, like he wasn’t being hit anymore, a silence between the blows. He seemed bewildered at the change in rhythm. The skinny one tried hard not to make eye contact with anyone. Like a child acting invisible in a family argument.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gyles straightened himself out quickly. The line of his mouth flattened out. He added: “Of course, ma’am.”

  “Stow your gear and siddown, we’ll talk later.” Gyles quickly tossed his gear into the first bench he could, eager to be out of her way. Maggie took two more steps forward and looked at her first recruit. It was clear he was one of those people who always seemed clumsy even when he was sure of foot. He came to attention.

  “What’s your name, private?”

  “Doan, Ma’am.” He swallowed hard while speaking. As if he was unsure of the answer. “Private Fred Doan.”

  “Welcome aboard, private Doan.” Maggie kept her voice casual. “Go to the back, stow your gear. I’ll see you in a minute along with….?”

  “Private Alesandro Dimitrou, ma’am.” He still had a touch of the wonderfully classic Greek accent, just enough to mark him an outsider, someone to push around. People had a habit of being that way, so did the army. After all, it was made up of people. His salute was perfect.

  “Join Doan in the back, okay?” Maggie jerked her thumb over the back of her shoulder.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and picked up his pack and equipment and waited while Doan waddled past Maggie.

  “I’m….I’m sorry, ma’am.” Doan apologized. He was one of those people who just felt out of place everywhere. Maggie marked his movements and began to plot a course for bringing out his best.

  “Not at all, private.” As Doan worked his way down the aisle Dimitrou passed by and shot her a second apologetic glance. Oh, okay. Maggie felt her eyebrow raise an inch. They’re buds, good to know.

  “Mr. Gyles,” Maggie slid in to the chair beside him on the other side of the aisle. “Let’s get acquainted.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gyles straightened up. Not perfectly but just enough to avoid being called out by a CO.

  “What have you got against those guys?” Maggie glanced to the back of the bus briefly and then returned to Gyles. Her eyes were full of intensity.

  “C’mon, ma’am.” Sarcasm dripped from a slash of a smile. “Look at them, they’re not soldiers.”

  “Well, I guess it’s our job to make them soldiers.” Maggie leaned forward. Yeah, bring it on, buddy. This was her favorite kind of fight.

  “We have a few days on a bus, how do we do that?” His facial expression was hardened disbelief.

  “Well, the first thing we do is make them believe in themselves.” Maggie flipped gears and kept her eyes riveted on Gyles. “I am fucking sick and tired of hearing CO’s kick a soldier when he’s down.”

  “What….?”

  “We don’t have a lot of time here.” Maggie continued. The pace of her words picked up speed like they were fueled by anger. “We have a combat situation coming up.”

  “I am aware of that, ma’am.” His voice had become impassive and his face was calm.

  “Good, then you also must be aware that our lives depend on how they perform.” Maggie looked at the two lost souls in the back of the bus. “Those two men are your best chance of survival.”

  “So what do we do?” Gyles finally spoke after considering the information and turning it over slowly in his mind. Maggie had a moment to examine his face. The lines were ugly scars with premature grey hair and the hint of unshaven beard. A man who had fought life and lost again and again, that kind of anger came from the soul. It was like a virus that needed to be passed on to others in a hope of cleansing the infection.

  “We start by getting them to believe in themselves, the army fucked up with these guys and threw them out.” Her smile whiplashed upwards, “We’re going to work with them, fucking encourage them and get some pride in their step.”

  “You’re going to coddle them.”

  “No, they step out of line and I will kick their ass.” Maggie leaned forward over the aisle between them. “But their problem is the army has had too much fun beating them down.”

  “It’s time to bring them back, ma
ke them believe in themselves.” Maggie stood up and looked down at Gyles, she had no time for dead weights. If he didn’t work out she would boot his ass out when they got to Timmins. But for now, the change-your-attitude talk would do. She started walking down the aisle toward Doan and his buddy. The big private looked up and his eyes filled up with fear, he started to rise to attention.

  “Have a seat, private Doan.” He paused and began to reverse his course. “So, tell me what you guys used to do.”

  “You first, Doan.” Maggie said after a pause. Geeeezz guys, mommy doesn’t have all day…….

  “Well, we kind of get moved around, ma’am.” Doan seemed to shift uncomfortably in his own skin. “The auto shop and road crew, stuff like that.”

  “What did you do in the auto shop?” The bus swayed and Maggie had to shift from side to side with the rhythm of the vehicle. If these guys say they worked on wheel alignments I might have a job for them.

  “We just changed the oils and fixed the old vehicles, we were good at that.” Doan was the type who made brief, furtive eye contact. His eyes would then scurry away like a small animal among predators.

  “On the road crew, did you ever run a jackhammer?” Maggie felt something start to come together.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Doan looked up for a second before his head hung down again. “I think I was…….pretty good at it.”

  “How about you?” She turned to Dimitrou. “Pretty much the same thing?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” There was a slow nod to punctuate his answer.

  “Have either one of you ever fired a weapon?” Maggie kept the question from being an accusation. They were third line troops. The whole idea here was to get them to believe.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Their answer was in unison but it varied in volume, Doan was the eager puppy and Dimitrou was more subdued.

  “Okay,” Maggie summed it up quickly. “You guys know which end of the gun is the nasty part, you’ve run a jackhammer and you can keep older machines running?”

  Doan looked at Dimitrou for support and they both nodded slowly. The tough part was already complete. They wanted to be a part of something, to be useful. Okay, Maggie stood up and pointed to a pile of boxes at the back of the bus. They were spray painted the dull green of military grade. The rectangular one at the bottom caught her eye.

  “This one,” Maggie pointed at it and then stepped forward and checked the lettering stenciled on the side, “It’s gonna take all three of us, guys.”

  They were at her side in a second, pulling the box slowly out from the jumble of ammunition boxes, sleeping bags and mess kits, the luggage of everyday life in the olive drab world of all things army. The truth was, Maggie had a passing thought. There used to be more than this. But, the laptops and other comforts were gone. We were down to bare bones and even less. The boxes were clean, dry and without rust. But their age betrayed that these were not front line weapons and material.

  It’s all we have now. Maggie cracked the metal seal and the hinge creaked open.

  “Whoa.” Doan’s eyes grew wide for a second.

  “Gentlemen,” Maggie’s voice was calm with a hint of the dramatic. “Say hello to your little friend.”

  *

  “At this time, Mr. Speaker,” Tom Roberts’ voice had grown more confident in public speaking over time. His experience had come simply from necessity. After all, that was the mother of all things. “I would like to call upon General Davidson to give the house an update on our situation out west.”

  “Thank you,” Clay rose immediately and found his notes as sunlight added shadows to the substance of the proceedings. We are in a damn church in a College town, trying to run a country. His weight shifted as he began: “I am here to report to the house on the findings of Captain Hunter.”

  “The Captain has decided to form a small fact finding mission and hitch a ride on the next truck convoy out west.” He was reading from a prepared statement, exactly what had been decided on earlier. “Captain Hunter has already left and I will have a more precise ETA and report for you in a few days.”

  “Well, then.” The speaker raised himself for a second, “Godspeed to Captain Hunter.”

  There was a smattering of positive murmurs and a few hand claps before they moved on to other business. Davidson sat down and avoided the eyes of those around him. He felt like the emperor without clothes. There were still a few souls in this room with strong enough alibis who had invited him to join in what was now taking shape almost a thousand miles away. How strong were they? How organized could they be? He had surrendered all of that intelligence when he had walked away.

  But, some were still here……..

  The sunlight almost seemed like it had a geometrical edge to it as the rays provided natural light to the century old wooden benches, forgotten book cases in the back and the hidden forms scattered about. He could feel them whispering in the shadows, hiding away secrets and narcissistic thoughts of personal power behind passive faces. Davidson wanted to stand up and shout out their names, pushing back the veil of secrecy and exposing them all.

  Then they would ask, how do you know this? There was a taste of shame in his mouth. It was acidic and bitter. I was a part of this. He told himself he was never an active part, just a man who listened to the talk before walking away and denying his role as Judas.

  But you knew enough. You weren’t a part, but you were not a part as well. That puts you among the shadows and the people you scorn. He almost turned to stare in accusation at the back benchers. Instead, Davidson inhaled slowly and felt his jaw grow tired from tightening muscles as his teeth grinded away. You’re just as bad as they are. He had gone out of his way to get Hunter what she needed. It had been almost impossible, but at least he could find some satisfaction in how hard he had scraped the bottom of the barrel.

  He had even dispatched Frank Roe from their trucking pool to Timmins to personally handle Maggie’s special request for a few modifications to an ordinary eighteen wheeler. Was it enough? He hoped so……

  “Godspeed, Captain Hunter.” He heard himself whisper.

  “Sorry?” Tom turned his way, his brown eyes curious, inquisitive and unknowing, thank God.

  “Nothing……”

  *

  There was a pattern to prejudice. Maggie had seen it so many times. Jarheads in the military were equally guilty and equally subversive in creating it. One of the common threads passed over all color lines and religions. The way a person looked. The athletic looking recruit could be dumb as a bag of hammers, but if he fit the image of military. Somehow, they would get him out of basic. After all, he looked the part.

  Maggie was getting the discards from other units and she knew it. The first woman at the stop in Sudbury had strong shoulders, a thick waist and a tough look on her face. She probably weighed in at 220 pounds. Just the sort of girl who gets overlooked for promotions and power positions, second best before she even opens her mouth. Yeah, gimme those people any day. Maggie nodded slowly in approval to the woman’s salute.

  Her name was Private Justine Chevalier and Maggie guessed her voice could be loud, antagonizing. Chevalier’s surprise to see a woman officer was usually reserved for men in the forces, but the private quickly fell in line. She was a country girl from the dairy farms of Quebec. That made her strong from birth. In the new world army, she would make an excellent corporal and platoon leader. Is that why you’re here private? Maggie chanced a look at her while she was organizing her gear. Were you just a little too much competition for the old boys’ club?

  Good, you’ll fit right in with me. Maggie filled out a few forms with a young Corporal while her train of thought chugged on. She began to see the faces of officers in her past, she knew their attitude. They loved being the guy who promoted a woman up the ladder. But, they only promoted them so far. Just enough to be seen as setting an example but those guys never moved you up far enough to become their equal. It was the best way to hide their private views of misogyny and sexism.<
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  “That’s it, Corporal.” Maggie affixed her signature to the last of the forms.

  “There is two more coming, ma’am.” The Corporal replied while glancing through the paperwork.

  “What’s their names?” Maggie was more than casually aware of the Corporal checking and double checking the forms. Maggie hated paperwork, but it was an evil she would have to get comfortable with again.

  “Uh……..” There was a pause as he flipped through his clipboard and found the right page. “Private Donna Purdee and Private Ian Trenton, he’s a medic as well.”

  “Okay,” Maggie handed the pen back to the Corporal with the query: “So, we’re good, right?”

  “All good, ma’am,” The Corporal looked up and then around. His wandering eyes picked up a point of interest in the milling midst of a few dozen people. “That might be Trenton and Purdee right over there.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Maggie took a deep breath and switched over to her command voice. “HEY PRIVATE!!”

  A dozen people froze and came to attention. Maggie tried to hide her satisfaction as the Corporal’s eyes bugged out at the volume. The man in question instantly located the source of the order and began to quick step toward Maggie with a smaller form following along. That had to be Purdee. The bus sighed and the crowd cautiously continued on their way. Maggie added to spur them on: “I don’t like my people late. Let’s go!”

  Purdee sped up her pace and gave a quick acknowledgement of Maggie’s authority. Maggie eye balled the woman as she worked her way up the stairs of the bus. She was just over 5 feet seven inches with a full face and clear, blue eyes Trenton was tall and lanky. His hair was jet black with eyes that were the deepest shade of brown Maggie had ever seen.

  “It’s not their fault, ma’am.” The Corporal advised cautiously. “The transport here was a bit off schedule.”

  “Okay,” Maggie accepted the information but felt no need to apologize. It was time to let everyone know the boss had a bitch side.. Fine, just as long as you don’t wind up like Gyles, her conscious fired back. Maggie nodded to the Corporal and started to walk toward the bus. “Thank you, Corporal. Have a good one.”