Rule 53

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Rule 53 Page 11

by Elaine Nolan


  Her extended boot camp drilled that into her. That lesson had been brutal, but not lost on her. Being part of a team was an alien concept to her, but once she had a taste of it, found it wasn’t as scary as she’d imagined. Nor was trusting others and being trusted in return as intimidating and overwhelming as she’d feared. While she hadn’t trained with these people, they came from a shared experience and when in a foreign country, a shared identity. She had a purpose in this unit, no greater or less important than any other in the squad.

  They entered the residential area, weapons at the ready, but trying to stay as unthreatening as possible.

  “Sirs, civilians ahead,” they heard in their earpieces from the lead, referring to both Commandants. While to outsiders it may have sounded sexist, Irish command structure included female officers and leaders in the same title.

  “Fuck,” Adam muttered. “This place was supposed to be cleared.”

  “They’re armed,” they heard, and Leigh saw muscles in those around her tighten in preparation. Adam’s response was equally expletive.

  “Lead, see if you can engage in talk, the rest of you, eyes on for signs of attack,” he instructed. From her place in the middle of the pack, Leigh saw the lead soldier lower his weapon, holding his hand up, but at a non-threatening angle as he approached them.

  They heard his conversation as he opened talks, indicating his nationality by showing them the flag badge stitched to his shoulder. While the response wasn’t threatening, it was angry and both Adam and Leigh made their way forward, also lowering their weapons in a show of non-aggression, and Adam identified himself.

  “We’re here to secure your safety,” he tried to assure them. They were mostly black, Leigh noted. One man seemed the leader, and spokesperson for the rest, but she recognised their fear.

  “This is the last straw, man,” he said. Adam waited, needing more information to try figure out what was going on. “First, we get notices that our homes, our neighbourhood isn’t safe anymore and that we have to move, then we get threatened walking home, just walking down the street. A house accidently goes on fire, some bullshit lie about a gas leak. Now this? Sending a bunch of foreign white soldiers to intimidate us, to run us out of our homes?”

  “We’re not white,” Leigh answered. “We’re Irish.” The man before them paused and glanced around at the contingent, finding a mix of skin tones that confirmed their multi-cultural stance, but a squad united under one national identity rather than race. Her own freckles added to that claim.

  “That’s the only reason someone hasn’t taken a shot at you lot yet.”

  “And we appreciate that,” she answered, in a genuine tone that surprised Adam. “Tell us more about those threats? When did they start?” she asked, and glanced at Adam. He grasped what she was doing; an attempt to defuse an angry man, and by extension, an angry mob, but it was more than that. The feeling something wasn’t right about this exercise grew from a distasteful stink to a full-blown stench.

  “Y’all going to listen to us?”

  “Dude,” she resorted to the colloquialism. “Our job here is your safety. Whatever you can tell us to help achieve that, we’ll listen to,” she answered him.

  She let Adam take in most of the details, and while still paying attention, using Irish she redirected the squad into defensive, protective positions around this group of civilians. It earned her an approving nod from Adam as he listened to the growing number of voices now clamouring for his attention.

  “Clay Roberts,” the man introduced himself after unburdening the sordid tale of what happened to his community, and what sounded to Leigh like corporate intimidation tactics.

  “Commandant Adam Blake, 3rd Infantry Battalion,” he introduced himself, taking the pro-offered hand in a shake.

  “Commandant Leigh Harte, Communications and IT Corp,” she said at her turn. Adam turned to her.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “Off the top of my devious little head?” she asked back, and he nodded. “My guess is this is a fucked up land grab.”

  “Go on,” he pushed, conscious that everyone was listening; the civilians, the rest of the squad and Donal back in the Embassy, all intent on her assessment.

  “What’s the best way to destabilise a place?” she asked, but continued on at not getting an answer, from anyone. “You start with intimidation and scare tactics; you instil fear in the population. You make them so afraid that some get brave notions. They’re ripe to indoctrinate into a cause, into making a stand. They’re usually the most scared but have nothing to lose. They get fuelled by a righteous anger and take to the streets, either in protest, or in more destructive ways, which justifies the so-called authorities in imposing sanctions or martial law. The area then becomes a no-go zone for property developers or businesses or worse, for essential services, like police or ambulances. Anyone who wants a better life gets the hell out, until it turns into a ghost town, a no-man's-land. Land then becomes cheap.”

  “That simple, huh?” Adam commented.

  “That was the ladybird version,” she shot back, referring to the pre-schoolers learning to read books and implying it was especially for him. Adam faced Clay and the rest of the civilians.

  “We are sympathetic to your situation,” he assured them. Irish history was a litany of such conquests. “But our priority is to get everyone to safety,” he added, answered by uproar from the crowd, but he tried to calm it with Clay’s help. “There are other teams due to move through here later. I cannot, in good conscience, leave you here where you could come under fire.”

  “What if we could take you somewhere where you’d have your story heard?” Leigh asked them, earning a fleeting frown from Adam.

  “There’s no one who’d listen,” Clay told her.

  “Senator Swayne.”

  “She won’t listen to us, we tried. We couldn’t even get in the door.”

  “We’ll get you in,” she assured him, then turned to Adam. “We know where she is right now.” To Adam’s ear, she sounded delightedly evil.

  CHAPTER 33

  They took a defensive formation around the civilians as they led them back to the US Diplomacy Centre, the coordination hub and headquarters for this exercise.

  “Can y’all get us in to see the Senator?” Clay asked Adam. Leigh was a few steps ahead, but heard the conversation in her earpiece.

  “If we can’t, she sure as hell can,” Adam answered, and Leigh didn’t need to turn around to know he meant her. Making a bolshie promise was all well and good, but could she deliver it in reality? Would it strain her tie to Jake too far? Or sour his with the Senator? She was knocked from her dark musing by an explosion east of them, and as one the squad dropped to a crouch. The civilians panicked at the noise, but were quick to obey the instruction to get down.

  “Give me something, Harte,” Adam barked at her, and she checked her device.

  “I’ve nothing,” she told him. “There are no other teams in the area.”

  “What’s our route out of here?”

  “We stay true on our current course and heading,” she answered. “It’ll bring us to one block away from the Centre before we turn west.”

  “I need somewhere less open,” he told her, and she rechecked her ordnance survey map.

  “We’re still on the best route,” she answered. “There’s one section up ahead where we’ll be exposed, but if we dive down any side streets, we’ll get separated.” She glanced back at him, and he mulled it over before he nodded to her.

  “Get everyone closer to the buildings for cover,” he ordered, watching as they mobilised into action, herding people off the centre of the street. He approached Leigh, covering his comms unit to talk privately to her. She turned hers off.

  “Are you serious there’s no other team in the area?” he demanded. She showed him the map for the estimated location of the explosion to confirm what she’d told him. “Any ideas?” he asked. She continued to scroll on the screen
to find any other squad, anywhere, but none appeared. Another explosion sounded, closer this time.

  “I think it’s time we got the fuck out of here,” he said. “What the fuck is that?” he spotted a small figure turning a corner down the street from them.

  “It’s a kid,” she answered.

  “How did we lose a kid?” he demanded. She did a quick head count finding the same number they’d started with.

  “We didn’t. We’re accounted for, and we had no kids that small moving with us.” She took a step forward and he grabbed her arm.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “You want to leave a child behind?” she asked, and pulled away from his loosened grip. She turned her comms back on, and made her way to the child, slowly so as not to startle or frighten him. She tried calling out to him, talking to him, telling him who she was, that she was there to help, but froze as she got close enough to see what he held.

  “What is it?” Adam asked, still back at his original position.

  “Kid’s got a grenade,” she said, quietly so as not to panic the child.

  “Fuck,” she heard in her ear. “That explains the explosions. But what sicko gives children explosives?” She heard the anger in his voice but tuned him out, concentrating on the child before her, and crouched, as much as to bring herself to the child’s level as to make herself smaller in the likely event it detonated.

  “What have you got there?” she asked, keeping her voice soft and light. The kid shrugged. “Did someone give you that?” she asked and he nodded. “Can you tell me who?”

  “He was dressed like you, but in black,” the child answered.

  “He was an army guy?” she answered, and he nodded. “What did he say when he gave you that?”

  “He told me to hold it and carry it for as long as I could. He said he’d give me food and money if I did it.”

  “Have you been holding it for long?” she asked, and he nodded again.

  “It’s getting slippy. My hands are getting tired,” he said and she nodded.

  “Ok, I need you to hold it real tight for just a few more seconds. I’m going to come over to you and help you hold it. Ok?” In her ear Adam asked her what the fuck she was doing, but she ignored him, and smiled at the child, who nodded to her. She stepped as fast as she could without rushing at the child, and grabbed hold of his hands, securing the release mechanism. She didn’t need her earpiece to hear Adam roaring at her.

  “You can let your hands go,” she said to the child, leaving the device in hers.

  “Ok, now, do you see that man who’s shouting at me? I know he seems scary, but he’s nice.”

  “If he’s nice, why is he shouting?”

  “Because he’s scared right now. This thing that man gave you is very bad, and I need you to run to my friend up there. Run. Now,” she ended with a shout, spurring the child into a run towards the rest of them.

  “What are you going to do?” Adam asked, as she watched the child’s progress to safety.

  “Toss it as far as I can.”

  “Please tell me you played rounders[1] at school,” he asked.

  “Nope, I mitched[2] Physical Ed and hid out in the computer room.”

  “So you were always a nerd, Harte.”

  “Pretty much.” Without warning, she turned and threw the device as far down the street with as much effort as she could manage. She dropped to the ground, adopting the defensive position for explosions, body flat against the road, legs crossed at the ankles and her head facing away from the blast, then felt the heat and shock wave as the explosion hit her. After it passed, she raised her head, saw Adam and some others running towards her, but the ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear what they said. She checked the unit on her arm, but it only showed white and blue static.

  “You know that order to take part until we shouldn’t?” she said, knowing she was shouting from the lack of hearing. Adam nodded. “I think we’ve reached that point.” He nodded again, helping her up.

  Her hearing returned as they reached their destination, a terrorised race through the streets of Washington. They came under fire after the grenade exploded, and it became a nightmarish battle that despite the rigorous training, she still felt inadequate. The more experienced of the squad provided the main protection at the rear, and Adam relegated her to leading them to their destination. She wasn’t complaining, and it made better strategic sense. Besides, the kid she’d rescued clung to her. If she saved him once, he reckoned she could keep him safe again.

  As they reached the Diplomatic Centre, their arrival caused a hubbub, and Adam’s forceful and angry entrance forestalled any paper pusher from attempting to get in his way.

  “Not a word,” he said to Leigh. “Leave the talking to me.” She just nodded. Now back to safety, the enormity of her actions hit her, and she began to shake. She did her best to hide it and lifted the child clinging to her leg, carrying him in her arms. Adam barged his way into the coordination room, followed by Leigh and the people they’d protected from the start, along with terrified stray people they’d picked up along the way. Swayne stood.

  “How dare you barge in like this,” she said. Though she didn’t shout, her voice carried around the room.

  “No Senator, how dare you,” Adam answered in a low tone. “How dare you put people’s lives at risk. How dare you put your own people’s lives at risk, in their own city. How dare you put the lives of my squad in danger. The Irish Army invoke our neutrality and withdraw from this sham of an exercise.” He held his temper well. The expression on Swayne’s face was as indecipherable as ever, but Leigh recognised her minute tell-tales, the slight narrowing of her eyes when she was angry, her lips tightening. Leigh risked a quick glance around and found a startled Jake staring at her, sizing her up in her combat attire and armed, and not liking this side of the uniform.

  “I’m not sure I understand what your grievance is… Mr…” Swayne said.

  “Commandant,” Adam corrected her, adding to her annoyance. She glanced at Leigh, but found no ally or help there. Adam gestured to the child Leigh still carried. “Someone gave this child a live grenade that almost took my team out. Commandant Harte risked her own life to save the child and the rest of us.” Again Swayne’s eyes flicked to Leigh, widening in surprise before returning to Adam. “Either someone has misinformed us of the nature of this exercise, or someone has sabotaged your plans and put everyone, from every nation, in danger. I can’t imagine how difficult this will make international relations. In the meantime, this gentleman has a very interesting story that you need to hear.”

  Without looking around Adam indicated behind him to Clay, who stepped to the fore. On Adam’s signal, Leigh handed the child over to a startled Swayne, without uttering a word to the Senator. Re-joining the rest of the squad standing at the back of the room, Adam then led them home.

  CHAPTER 34

  “A fucking disaster,” Adam told Tom and Donal as they met in the conference room.

  “Is that your official assessment?” Donal shot back.

  “I’ll word it better in the report, but it’ll be the same answer,” he said.

  “What exactly happened?” Tom asked. “We tapped into your body cams but Harte’s comms died after the explosion.”

  “Then you know as much as we do. Someone gave a kid a grenade,” Adam explained. “Given the earlier explosions, we couldn’t take the chance it wasn’t live. What you heard was me yelling at Harte and the other civilians to get to safety, mostly yelling at Harte. But no! Harte had to save the kid, took the grenade from him, waited until the kid was safe before tossing it.” All heads turned to her at the table and she shrugged at them, and their mix of reactions.

  “Yeah, we saw. What the fuck were you thinking?” Tom demanded.

  “What?” she answered. “We didn’t have time to wait for a bomb squad to arrive, and either of you would’ve done the same.” Donal’s impassive expression gave nothing away.

&n
bsp; “Maybe,” Tom conceded, “but it was still reckless.”

  “Keeping innocent civilians safe?” she challenged, and he backed off.

  “Where’d the kid get a grenade?” he asked instead.

  “No idea. He told Harte it was a man in black fatigues. Once it detonated, we came under live fire. Priority was to get everyone out,” Adam answered.

  “And our junior Commandant?” Donal asked.

  “Behaved in a manner becoming of an Officer,” Adam defended her. Tom found her subdued and put it down to a delayed reaction to the earlier events.

  Her electronic tablet beeped, and she frowned at the details on the screen.

  “Problem?” Donal asked.

  “Yes,” she muttered, tapping and scrolling through the report.

  “Which is?” Donal pressed, glancing at the others, but found them attentive and serious. If Leigh wasn’t being flippant or otherwise sarcastic, it was serious. She gathered her things and stood.

  “Someone is trying to hack into our systems. I need to see how extensive this is.”

  “What do you mean by extensive?” Adam asked. Her concerned glance to him worried them.

  “Given what’s just happened, I want to find out if it’s the Defence Forces’ systems, or on the entire government network.” She didn’t wait for permission from any of them to go, in this area she didn’t need it.

  Adam found her curled up on the cot bed, asleep, oblivious to the soft glowing flashes on the bank of monitors facing her. He picked up the fallen blanket intent on covering her, but she woke with a start, her arm up, blocking his until she realised who it was.

  “Don’t let the others see an officer sleeping on the job,” he said. She rubbed her eyes and sat up.

  “I’ve been battling and fire-fighting most of the day, running diagnostics and enhancements for the last few hours,” she told him, checking her watch. “I’ve only dozed off for about 30 minutes.”

 

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