Once everyone was gathered in the bunker around the Suit, Lambert pulled out the flash drive and handed it to Carol. “Plug that in,” he grunted. “It will take you to where you need to go.”
“Then what?” she asked hoarsely.
“Then you make everything go boom.” Lambert’s expression was already defeated, and after he finished clipping the radio to Carol’s t-shirt, he stepped back to let Hartmann give his instructions. Hartmann wondered if the captain was already bracing himself for the disgrace of failure, his demotion looming nearer and nearer with the catastrophe that was certain to unfold. Fortunately, the master sergeant was much better practiced at hiding his thoughts, and with the demeanor of the perfect soldier, he said,
“There’s a port on the right side of the door inside the Suit. After you get settled, plug it in and say, ‘Access external drive.’”
Carol nodded and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” without realizing it. Her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that shot through his heart, and it occurred to him that she was falling in love. Not here, he silently projected towards her, then added, Not with me.
She trembled visibly as she climbed the new ramp to the cockpit of the Suit and sat down in the pilot’s seat, casting one last look at Hartmann before closing the doors. Lambert’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he remained silent as Carol’s voice crackled over the radio, “Access external drive.”
“Good,” Hartmann spoke into his end. “Now tell it to access autopilot program. I want you to read back the coordinates to verify that I programmed it correctly. Over”
Carol repeated, “Access autopilot program,” her voice gaining a bit of strength. The numbers she recited next were correct, so Hartmann told her to go ahead and run the program.
“When you get there,” he added, “You don’t have to worry about any civilians. If it moves, shoot it. Don’t take any direct hits from heavy artillery. Over. ”
“Got it!” The Suit roared to life, the giant doors to the outside were pulled open, and then Carol was gone; a shrinking black dot against a pale morning sky. But her voice over the radio was loud and clear, and she asked, “How long will the flight take?”
Instead of replying, Hartmann handed the radio over to the captain and stepped back. “Never you mind,” Lambert grunted into the receiver. “Just keep your eyes on the monitors, and they’ll tell you when you’re there. Keep communications to a minimum. Over.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
Hartmann feigned disinterest and boredom, glancing at his watch then setting his jaw. He pretended not to notice when Lambert approached him and said quietly, “Mas-sarg Hartmann.”
“Yessir?” he replied, his voice oozing with deference.
“Have you been following the rules and keeping a respectful distance from Carol?” the captain asked bluntly, but privately. There were others present, all keeping watch and bearing witness to the progression of the combat mission, and all pretending to look busier than they were. They both knew that this particular conversation would spread like a fire through the rumor mill, and neither wanted that to happen, so they kept their voices quiet.
“Yes. Sir.” A muscle in Hartmann’s finger twitched as he lied, so he closed his hand into a fist. “She’s not my type.”
Lambert wanted to say something more, but checked himself. “I want to see you in my office tomorrow,” he mumbled, then stepped away.
And everyone waited.
By Autumn Rain 