flu but I got better. What did you do at Mayport? Secretary?”
“Aviation engineering,” Nicola said drily.
“Oh,” Kiera said, her eyes wide. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” Nicola said. “I get that all the time. Not many girls in my field.”
“Can I get your name, please?”
The speaker was a very pretty young woman with a distinct Slavic accent who was about as pregnant as the two refugees.
“Nicola Simpson,” Nicola said.
“As soon as terminals get freed up we’ll get you checked in,” the woman said. “There are snacks if you’d like, as well as soup and drinks. After you’re checked in, you’ll get scheduled for a maternity check-up. The ‘doctors’ are Navy medics but at least we finally have more than two. One of them told me that, unbelievably enough, they’re starting to get tired of looking at vaginas.”
“I can imagine,” Nicola said, laughing. “I’m just so glad to get out of that warehouse.”
“Try starving to death on a yacht while being forced to have sex all the time,” the woman said. “But those thugs are not with this group.”
“Can I ask . . . What is this group?” Nicola asked.
“Here,” Kiera said, handing her a brochure. “I’m finished with it. Besides, we had a radio. Since Devil Dog Radio came on, we’ve been getting the story.”
“What story?” Nicola said, looking at the brochure.
Welcome to Wolf Squadron . . .
“Shewolf, Seawolf, over.”
“’Sup, Sis?” Faith replied.
“Be advised, we’re apparently celebrities to anyone with a shortwave. Last group of survivors was asking about you. Over.”
“Sweet,” Faith said. “And, by the way, you could have left some for us.”
“Heading over to the civvie side again. Going to do our best to make your day boring. But that one you’ll probably have to fine-tooth. Big place. Really complicated.”
“Got it.”
“Where you at?”
“Upside down in the hatch of an M1 trying to figure out if we can get it to start,” Faith replied. “Figure if you get a helicopter, I should get a tank, right?”
“Like you can drive so much as a car.”
“Everybody says these drive like one,” Faith said, grinning at Januscheitis. “Maybe I’ll take my first lessons in a tank.”
“You would. Gotta go. Seawolf, out.”
* * *
“You probably should try something smaller for your first lessons, ma’am,” Staff Sergeant Januscheitis said. There was a distant sound of firing from the helo and the usual squawk of seagulls arguing over who got the zombie carrion.
“Do you know, honestly, my favorite teething toy was a little rubber 1911?” Faith said, pulling her head out of the tank. The interior was surprisingly clean due to the sealed hatches. That didn’t mean it was ready to run.
“Ask my da or mum some time, they’ll tell you. It wasn’t even a teething toy, it was some SWAG Da picked up at a gun show. Just a little rubber gun. I’d go past other stuff to chew on it. At least according to them. So, what do you think they’ll say in some future time about General Faith Smith, when you’re the Master Guns of the Marines and I’m the Commandant, Staff Sergeant? ‘She teethed on a 1911 and her first car was a tank.’ Sound about right?”
“Sounds about right, ma’am,” Januscheitis said, laughing.
“We only need one of these running, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “We’re not going to be using it that much. I know they’re a bitch to run and maintain. But I do think we need one . So . . .”
“Make it so, ma’am?” the staff sergeant said. “You’re talking to the wrong staff sergeant, Lieutenant. Decker’s the armor guy. I’m helos.”
“Crap,” Faith said, dusting off her hands. She keyed her radio. “Force Ops, Ground Force, over.”
“Ground Force, Force Ops.”
“Base clear for Sierra and Sierra. Require Decker and Condrey for armored ground survey. Send over with Sierra and Sierra.”
“Roger. Will dispatch with Sierra and Sierra.”
“Now
“Aviation engineering,” Nicola said drily.
“Oh,” Kiera said, her eyes wide. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” Nicola said. “I get that all the time. Not many girls in my field.”
“Can I get your name, please?”
The speaker was a very pretty young woman with a distinct Slavic accent who was about as pregnant as the two refugees.
“Nicola Simpson,” Nicola said.
“As soon as terminals get freed up we’ll get you checked in,” the woman said. “There are snacks if you’d like, as well as soup and drinks. After you’re checked in, you’ll get scheduled for a maternity check-up. The ‘doctors’ are Navy medics but at least we finally have more than two. One of them told me that, unbelievably enough, they’re starting to get tired of looking at vaginas.”
“I can imagine,” Nicola said, laughing. “I’m just so glad to get out of that warehouse.”
“Try starving to death on a yacht while being forced to have sex all the time,” the woman said. “But those thugs are not with this group.”
“Can I ask . . . What is this group?” Nicola asked.
“Here,” Kiera said, handing her a brochure. “I’m finished with it. Besides, we had a radio. Since Devil Dog Radio came on, we’ve been getting the story.”
“What story?” Nicola said, looking at the brochure.
Welcome to Wolf Squadron . . .
“Shewolf, Seawolf, over.”
“’Sup, Sis?” Faith replied.
“Be advised, we’re apparently celebrities to anyone with a shortwave. Last group of survivors was asking about you. Over.”
“Sweet,” Faith said. “And, by the way, you could have left some for us.”
“Heading over to the civvie side again. Going to do our best to make your day boring. But that one you’ll probably have to fine-tooth. Big place. Really complicated.”
“Got it.”
“Where you at?”
“Upside down in the hatch of an M1 trying to figure out if we can get it to start,” Faith replied. “Figure if you get a helicopter, I should get a tank, right?”
“Like you can drive so much as a car.”
“Everybody says these drive like one,” Faith said, grinning at Januscheitis. “Maybe I’ll take my first lessons in a tank.”
“You would. Gotta go. Seawolf, out.”
* * *
“You probably should try something smaller for your first lessons, ma’am,” Staff Sergeant Januscheitis said. There was a distant sound of firing from the helo and the usual squawk of seagulls arguing over who got the zombie carrion.
“Do you know, honestly, my favorite teething toy was a little rubber 1911?” Faith said, pulling her head out of the tank. The interior was surprisingly clean due to the sealed hatches. That didn’t mean it was ready to run.
“Ask my da or mum some time, they’ll tell you. It wasn’t even a teething toy, it was some SWAG Da picked up at a gun show. Just a little rubber gun. I’d go past other stuff to chew on it. At least according to them. So, what do you think they’ll say in some future time about General Faith Smith, when you’re the Master Guns of the Marines and I’m the Commandant, Staff Sergeant? ‘She teethed on a 1911 and her first car was a tank.’ Sound about right?”
“Sounds about right, ma’am,” Januscheitis said, laughing.
“We only need one of these running, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “We’re not going to be using it that much. I know they’re a bitch to run and maintain. But I do think we need one . So . . .”
“Make it so, ma’am?” the staff sergeant said. “You’re talking to the wrong staff sergeant, Lieutenant. Decker’s the armor guy. I’m helos.”
“Crap,” Faith said, dusting off her hands. She keyed her radio. “Force Ops, Ground Force, over.”
“Ground Force, Force Ops.”
“Base clear for Sierra and Sierra. Require Decker and Condrey for armored ground survey. Send over with Sierra and Sierra.”
“Roger. Will dispatch with Sierra and Sierra.”
“Now
Similar Books
