Project - 16 by Martyn J. Pass

an underground bunker
this woman found.”
    “ Something?”
    “ Not treasure or loot but something else. Perhaps you should
read the letters, it'll make more sense to you.”
    She stood and drained the last of her cup before replacing it
on the table with the clean ones. Then the Colonel rose to his feet
and I did the same. Military life was catching.
    “ Miller, there are digs you can use tonight if you want. Riley
is staying on-base too, but in the morning I hope you can begin to
help her hunt this boy down. If he has found something we need to
know before the NSU get word of it - and they will, mark my
words.”
    “ Why do you think the NSU would be interested?” I
asked.
    “ Why wouldn't they be?” he replied, laughing.
    “ I'll stop over,” I said. “It'll give me a chance to work out
the best way of finding him. What do you intend to do once you've
got him back?” I asked.
    “ He'll face a court martial for being AWOL, maybe do a little
bit of time. I can't predict what'll happen to be honest,” said the
Colonel. “We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
    Riley saluted the old man and he smiled, returning the kind
gesture. Then we both left the stuffy cabin and went out into the
cool fresh air of a British winter.
    “ Why don't we get some chow?” said Riley as we crossed the
busy parade ground. She had a long stride that made me increase my
pace a little. She also had the usual walk of a soldier - eyes
front, regimental arm swings and a keen awareness of what was going
on around her. I hung back a little and let her take the lead
mainly because in all my time coming backwards and forwards from
this base I'd never eaten here and I didn't know where to
go.
    “ Sure,” I replied and avoided looking at the curve of her
well-fitted combats.
    “ You came straight from the place you found those kids?” she
asked. I noticed that the formality of talking to a superior
officer had gone and her accent became more defined.
    “ Yeah. About 160, 170 miles.” She nodded and her hair swayed
with the motion. The black hat she was wearing had a logo on the
front and back, some kind of cross-hair in red stitching. We passed
a platoon of troops in fatigues being drilled around the perimeter
and Riley nodded to one of them.
    “ He know you?” I asked.
    “ Served in Syria together,” she replied. “I hope they've got
some steak on. I could eat a steak.”
    We marched between a row of smaller buildings made of
corrugated sheeting that'd been daubed with paint and scrim
netting. On the other side was a small courtyard lined with narrow
accommodation huts that had doors facing inwards to a tent that
took up most of the area. A stainless steel chimney poked out of
the top, belching scorched meat and burning wood smells out into
the cold air.
    “ The grill's on,” she said with sudden animation. “We might be
in luck.”
    We followed two or three others walking towards the line,
taking our place in it as the aromas made a full frontal assault on
my senses. Even my eyes were stinging from the thought of some
fresh food. I'd been out in the boonies for long enough eating only
dried or cured food and a 'home' cooked meal was exactly what I
needed.
    “ How do you like your steak?” she asked, arms folded across
her chest as we waited in the queue.
    “ Medium-rare. You?”
    “ Still fucking bleeding. I like it as fresh as possible which
is probably asking too much of these guys. I remember what the chow
used to be like only too well.”
    “ What was your job?” I asked.
    “ Marksman instructor. That's when I wasn't out on the front
lines. Out there I was a Sniper. Had a great spotter, a guy named
Wakowski. That guy had eyes like a fucking hawk, man. Could see a
kill before they guy even showed up, he was that good.”
    “ Sounds like you enjoyed it.”
    “ I did. It was a hell of a time to be out there. You know, we
saw more combat than most Vets did in the last 100 years. Go figure
that fucker