Arisen : Nemesis by Michael Stephen Fuchs Page B

sanctum.
    But then she was almost instantly ushered right back out of it, Elijah pushing her on through and toward the single plywood door at the back. As they threaded through the cluttered space, she heard a phone ringtone going off – “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer. By the time Kwon found and removed the device from his combat gear, it had stopped ringing. He checked the screen.
    “That was Maximum Bob,” he said.
    “Really,” said Jake. “Wish the big unflappable bastard was here. We could have used his gun in the fight.”
    “I’ll check in with him later,” Kwon said, putting the phone away.
    By this time, Kate and Elijah had passed through the flimsy door into a second room at the back, the same width but only half as deep. It was a riot of kit bags, personal gear – and, mainly, narrow bunks stacked three deep. This was where the team slept – when they did.
    Obviously not one of their big priorities , Kate thought, judging by the amount of space they allotted to it. There also seemed to be no head or shower room. Presumably they used shared facilities – nearby, she hoped. What light there was leaked in through the single square window, and from the cracked plywood door to the team room outside.
    Kate guessed she was going to have to make herself comfortable.

Claustrophobia
    Camp Lemonnier - 555 Bunk Room
    “This is my rack,” Elijah said, all but setting her down in a bottom bunk on the left. “And yours for tonight.” Kate nodded her thanks, and started stripping off and squaring away her body armor, gear, and weapons.
    She was anything but tired – still completely wired from the firefight, actually. But her new CO had made his intentions for her 110% clear, and she was in no position yet to push back any further against them.
    Elijah turned his back to reach for something on a plywood shelf and turned around with a liter bottle of water. “Hydrate,” he said – and, when Kate hesitated, he added, “ – or die.”
    “I get that,” she said. “The CamelBak slogan.” He was right, of course. It was easy to forget to drink water, particularly in a combat situation. And dehydration fatigue could sneak up on you, often before you even felt thirsty. Hydrating turned out to be a major component of combat effectiveness. She started getting the lukewarm water down.
    The sound of a low, fast helo flight zoomed by outside.
    Kate stopped chugging long enough to ask: “Reinforcements?”
    “No.” Elijah shook his head sadly. “Medevac flights. Been going all day. Ferrying in wounded from units who’ve been cut off outside the wire.”
    “Jesus.”
    “I’m afraid they’ll be coming and going all night – at least as long as they can safely set down anywhere outside to pick people up.”
    Kate resumed chugging from the bottle.
    Elijah nodded his approval. “Okay. I’ll be right outside.”
    “Until you’re not,” Kate corrected, having killed the bottle. “How are you guys planning on getting out there? To wherever it is you’re going.”
    “We’ve got three of our gun trucks here – in a garage we control, not the camp motor pool.” Kate knew from her advance studies that SF gun trucks bore only a passing resemblance to the standard Humvees they were based on. They were usually unarmored – due to speed and tactical requirements – but armed to the gills with heavy weapons. Their mindset was: mobility good, firepower very good. Move fast and hit hard. The extensive modifications to the vehicles were the evolution of decades of trial and error – what worked and what didn’t – and this knowledge was handed down from team to team.
    The SF guys also liked to maintain them to an exacting standard themselves – engine maintenance, beefed-up suspension, and even welding extra shit onto the chassis as mission parameters dictated.
    Kate guessed that three of these monsters, stored in their own private garage, were another reason the commanding general was such a big fan of