Enemy Action (Book 3 of The Imperial Marines Saga) Page 2

  She had no idea, but obviously, someone else had thought it might.

  Odds were good that it was Diana’s father, J. Russell Macumber, Earl Still Water. The man was a roving director for Imperial Intelligence, and he’d been calling the shots about what happened with Andrea for years now, even though she’d only recently become aware of it.

  “I can see you understand what I’m getting at,” the man said, his smile widening slightly. “Your squad leader isn’t going to be happy I’m assigning the three of you to the same fire team, but I’ve been aware of your imminent arrival for several months, and I’ve had time to prepare this company for what was coming.

  “Expect to be brought up to speed as quickly as possible. You’ve got a lot to learn and many skills to hone. As deeply as we might wish for peace, the Empire is always involved in some skirmish or another, both internal and external. You three need to be prepared to do your part when the time comes.”

  He grimaced slightly. “You’ll also have to be aware of some obstacles to your success. You’ve got a strong advocate in both myself and the regimental commander, Colonel Jackson Grimsby. He was the battalion commander when Grace led her platoon into the Singularity. He’s a good man to have at your back.

  “Unfortunately, our battalion commander isn’t exactly welcoming of your presence. I wouldn’t say that Major Anatoli Bashir is exactly an enemy, but he certainly isn’t your friend. He was a rival of Grace’s and commanded one of the other companies back then. I think he was displeased that she was picked for the raid, and he wasn’t.”

  Van Buren sighed. “It’s not for me to speak ill of a senior officer, but the major’s personality can be somewhat… challenging. To say he was less than pleased to hear of your existence—much less your assignment to his battalion—is something of an understatement. I’ll try to shield you from his direct attention as much as I can, but there are limits, and I’d expect some type of confrontation in the future.”

  That wasn’t exactly reassuring, but it could’ve been worse, she supposed. Having a person with an ax to grind was a lot better than having someone shooting at you. Some people would dislike her no matter what she did. It was a fact of life that she’d resigned herself to a long time ago.

  “Whatever comes my way, sir, I’ll handle it,” Andrea said levelly. “I’m not responsible for where I came from, but I’ll be the best marine I can be.”

  Van Buren smiled. “And that’s all one can really ask of you. I realize this isn’t an optimal situation, or even a fair one, but you at least have a friend in me. That won’t get you any slack regarding your duties, but Gunnery Sergeant Singh and I will do our best to shield you from any official interference.

  “I’m sure we’ll have an opportunity to speak again, and I’d certainly like to discuss Grace at some point, but that’s going to have to wait. Right now, I’ll get you signed in remotely at battalion, and Ariel will see that you’re introduced to Corporal Reed—your fire team leader—who will get you squared away. Off with you now.”

  Andrea stiffened back to attention before following Singh out of the office. This had gone better than expected, but she could already smell a storm on the horizon.

  Lieutenant Van Buren would undoubtedly do his best to protect her from the major’s attention, but if the major had an ax to grind with Grace, he’d have a lot more trouble with her.

  And that didn’t even count how much grief she’d get from her fire team leader, squad leader, and squadmates. She’d have to live with them every day of her life for quite some time to come, and if anyone was inclined to make her suffer, it would almost certainly come from that quarter.

  Welcome to the glorious life of an Imperial Marine.

  2

  Sergeant Jerome Walker entered battalion headquarters feeling more than a bit uneasy. It was never a good day when the battalion commander summoned you to his office without an explanation.

  Ever since he’d received the call, he’d been going over everything his squad had done and couldn’t find a reasonable explanation as to why Major Bashir wanted to see him.

  In the end, it probably didn’t matter. It almost certainly wouldn’t be anything good.

  Not that he had anything against Bashir personally, but field grade officers were to be avoided when at all possible. The man had a reputation for being an ass, and Jerome didn’t want to give the man any excuse to focus his attention on him.

  The battalion adjutant waved him through, so Jerome walked into the major’s office and came to attention in front of his desk. “Sergeant Walker, reporting as ordered, sir.”

  Bashir muted his computer’s holographic display and focused his full attention on Jerome, steepling his fingers on his desk. The man considered him for a few seconds and then spoke.

  “At ease, Sergeant. If you’re worried that I’ve called you here to tear a strip off you, you can relax. I just need you to perform a task for me. One that requires discretion and attention to detail. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No, sir. Whatever you need, I’ll make it happen.”

  Why would his battalion commander be contacting him directly? If the man needed something done, all it would’ve taken was a call to his company commander, who would then have passed it along to a platoon leader, who’d have selected someone suitable for the task. A major didn’t call a sergeant directly, which set off even more alarms in Jerome’s mind.

  Not that he allowed his concern to show on his face. Whatever the man wanted, he was going to get it.

  “Excellent,” Bashir said, leaning back in his chair with a thin smile. “Your squad has three new people arriving today. One of them is of particular interest to me.”

  So that was what this was about. Jerome hadn’t realized the new blood was due today. He already knew why Tolliver had attracted the man’s interest since he’d been briefed about her. It also explained why Bashir had singled him out.

  “Somewhat, sir,” he said cautiously. There was no need to give the officer more ammunition. “I haven’t reviewed their personnel jackets yet.”

  “Then allow me to pass them along so that we can discuss Private First Class Andrea Tolliver.”

  There was an inaudible ping in Jerome’s implants as he received the files and brought them up. Experience and training allowed him to review their contents while still paying attention to what the major was saying, though the man wasn’t speaking at the moment. It looked as if he was going to allow Jerome time to review the files.

  Since his assigned task revolved around PFC Tolliver, he brought up her records first. The first thing he saw was the image attached to her file. Even though he knew what he’d see, her tattoos still sent a jolt of fury through him.

  “It seems that our newest marine is a refugee from the Singularity,” Bashir said. “She was supposedly vetted by Imperial Intelligence, but I wouldn’t trust them to empty a field latrine.

  “I’ve been instructed not to directly meddle, so I’m delegating that task to you. With your background, I expect you won’t allow her any liberties. Keep an eye on her, and if there is any indication she’s disloyal or has some hidden agenda, come directly to me with the information.”

  This was a nightmare.

  Still, it made sense why the officer had selected him for this task. His older brother had died fighting the Singularity a decade ago. The loss still burned, and he felt nothing but contempt and rage when he thought about those bastards.

  Even so, he had no business getting involved in trying to skirt Colonel Grimsby’s orders to the major, even if he couldn’t just tell the man no. He’d have to tread lightly if he intended to come out of this without having crap splattered all over him.

  He couldn’t allow his righteous anger to sway him into doing anything intemperate. All eyes would be on this girl, and he’d have to follow the book religiously, or someone would take their displeasure out of his hide.

  Hell, they probably would anyway. He was screwed.

  Jerome sc
anned Tolliver’s records to see what else he could learn without directly answering what the major had said. A surprising amount of the data was classified and thus redacted. That made the already thin file downright skeletal.

  Someone had wanted to make sure no one learned too much about her personal history before joining. Though, oddly, parts of her basic training record were also sealed. Very strange.

  Her tattoos drew him back to her service image. While he had no personal experience with the Singularity, he’d heard stories. The only ones with tattoos were members of the warrior castes and the Singularity’s leadership.

  This girl hadn’t been a peasant in her previous life, which meant that she had blood on her hands. The blood of people like his brother.

  Jerome couldn’t figure out why she’d chosen to keep the damned things. That seemed exceedingly arrogant to him. Which, on reflection, sounded just about right for someone from the Singularity.

  After he’d seen what he could about Tolliver, he reviewed the other greenies.

  Baker and Randall were much more pedestrian. That was good, since he didn’t need more than one problem at a time.

  As soon as he finished reviewing their files, he refocused his attention on the officer and nodded. “I can see why you’d want me to keep an eye on her, sir. I’ll make it happen.”

  “I don’t just want you to keep an eye on her, Walker,” Bashir said, his tone more than a hint irritated as he leaned forward. “I want you to make damned sure she isn’t a traitor. Is that clear?”

  It was perfectly clear and probably the most dangerous set of orders Jerome had ever received that didn’t involve directly coming under fire.

  Still, he was the right man for the job. He couldn’t bring his brother back to life, but he could make damned sure that one of those snakes wasn’t worming their way into his beloved Corps.

  “I’ll make it happen, Major,” he said grimly. “If there’s anything questionable about her, I’ll find out.”

  Bashir considered him for a few seconds and then nodded. “I’m going to want weekly reports about what she’s doing. If she farts, I want to know how bad it smells.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And no word of this to anyone else. No one. Dismissed.”

  Jerome wheeled around and made his way out of the office and then to the field in front of battalion headquarters. Only once he was out of sight of the building itself did he allow himself to slow down and shake his head.

  This was a crap job, and he knew it. Jerome wasn’t a spy and had no experience determining someone’s deep motivations. This task was almost guaranteed to be some form of goat rope. Bashir obviously wanted something concrete to hold over Tolliver, even though he’d never said those specific words.

  Of course, he hadn’t had to, had he?

  Jerome wasn’t quite sure if Bashir wanted him to manufacture evidence or just diligently look for it, but the officer had a particular outcome in mind. He could stick his nose into her business because she was in his squad, but if he got too aggressive about it, she’d have every right to go up the chain of command.

  It wasn’t his job to make her fail, he reminded himself. Just observe and report.

  Still, part of him wanted to make her fail. She was literally the personification of the people who’d murdered his brother. No matter her story, it wouldn’t be good enough to make up for that.

  The thought made him smile coldly as he headed back to the barracks. By now, the new arrivals would already be in their fire team leader’s hands. He had to let that play out first, and then he could find out why she was really infiltrating the Imperial Marines.

  Diana let Andrea take the lead when Singh escorted them to the section of the barracks that would be their new home. Unlike basic training, it wasn’t a full-scale bay but rather a large room capable of housing four people and their gear.

  That gave them some privacy, and they even had a shared bathroom with a shower large enough for all of them at once. They would, of course, be responsible for keeping it in pristine condition.

  A woman who was even shorter than Diana stood next to the only made bed when the four of them came into the room. She looked like she might have bitten into something sour for lunch, which likely didn’t bode well for Diana and her friends.

  “Corporal Simone Reed, these are the new people in Fire Team Two: Private First Class Andrea Tolliver, Private Diana Randall, and Private Claudio Baker,” Singh said. “I understand it’s going to be stressful to deal with their training simultaneously, but needs must when the devil drives.”

  Singh turned her attention to Diana and her friends. “Corporal Reed is very experienced, so I expect you to pay close attention to everything she tells you. She’s undoubtedly displeased we’ve dumped you in her lap, but she’ll be professional, and I expect you to act likewise. Give her one hundred and ten percent so that we can put this situation behind us as rapidly as possible. Understood?”

  “Yes, Gunnery Sergeant,” they all said simultaneously.

  “Excellent. I’ll leave the four of you to get acquainted.”

  And with that, Singh left the room and closed the door behind her.

  Reed stared at the newcomers with more than a hint of displeasure. “Gunnery Sergeant Singh has understated the situation. Having my fire team taken away from me and distributed among the other fire teams pisses me off. I’ve spent years molding them to be my strong right arms. Now all I have is you greenies.

  “I have no idea why someone decided it would be amusing to put you all in the same fire team, but all this will do is reinforce the weaknesses you already have and leave you with gaps in experience and knowledge.

  “It falls to me to fill those gaps, and the process will be unpleasant for all of us. If I give you an order, I expect to be obeyed immediately. If you have a question, save it until we’re done. There’s only one of me and three of you.”

  With that, Reed gestured to the three unmade beds. “You can select any of those you like and get yourself set up. Once you’ve put your gear away, we’ll go to supply and draw all of the other things you’ll need.

  “We are subject to inspection, so I expect you to keep everything neat and clean. It doesn’t have to be laid out in any particular pattern, but don’t lose your little minds with this newfound freedom.”

  Diana selected one of the beds and laid her duffel bag on it. She opened the locker and found folded sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. She pulled them out, set them at the head of the bed, and then loaded the wall locker with her gear.

  When she was done, she made her bed quickly and neatly in the style that basic training had drilled into her. They might not want everything spit and polish here, but she could still make a mean bed.

  Once she’d stowed the empty duffel in the drawer at the bottom of her locker, she turned and examined the corporal in more detail. The woman was eyeing Andrea with an expression that radiated displeasure.

  Even though the lieutenant had said the company had been briefed, Diana was surprised the woman hadn’t directly questioned her friend about the tattoos that dominated her face. That seemed to be what everyone did when they first met her.

  Though it was none of her business, Diana couldn’t help thinking over the situation to figure out the odds of the various scenarios. With her father being a roving director for Imperial Intelligence, she’d had this type of problem solving drilled into her from a young age.

  It annoyed her, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. She was who she was.

  The odds were high that her father had attached some kind of report to Andrea’s orders to give her commanding officer a heads up. Since those orders would’ve arrived months ago, the officer had had an opportunity to get used to the idea and disseminate the critical details to those that needed to know them.

  Of course, there were other possible scenarios, but she’d stick with her best guess until the evidence proved her wrong.

  In the end, it didn’t
really matter. They were a thorn in the side of their new fire team leader, and she wouldn’t be happy with anything they did.

  That would undoubtedly grow worse before it got better. No matter how much effort the three of them put into learning what they didn’t know, it wouldn’t be fast enough.

  Combat units were plum postings, and having someone assigned to one straight out of advanced training was unusual. To have three of them arrive and be stuck in the same fire team meant that they were woefully inexperienced and uneducated compared to everyone else.

  Yep, the next few months were going to be fun.

  Andrea was the next to finish getting her things squared away. The only thing left out was the box containing the really cool weapons the girl’s guardians had given her.

  Not that Diana didn’t suspect her father had had a hand in it. No one got permits and permission to keep those kinds of weapons without serious pull, and that just reeked of her father’s influence.

  It would be interesting seeing how the corporal responded to something like this. Personally, Diana bet it would be with fireworks.

  “Corporal, I need guidance on what to do with these,” Andrea said diffidently.

  “What are they?” Reed asked, taking a couple of steps over to look down at the box. Without asking, she opened it.

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at Andrea. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “I have permits and an Imperial exemption allowing me to possess and bear these weapons, even on this base, so it’s not illegal,” Andrea hurried to assure her. “This wasn’t my doing, but I don’t want to try to hide this from you.”

  “Let me see the permits and exemption.”

  The woman’s eyes went unfocused for a few moments as she perused what Andrea must’ve sent her, and then they came back into focus, her frown deepening. “I don’t know anything about Imperial exemptions or permits, but I do know someone that will.”

  Without asking permission, Reed closed the box and picked it up. “We’re going to stop by the armory and discuss this with the armorer. I expect he’s going to have a cow and impound these weapons. Then you’ll have to argue with him, and it’s your problem, not mine.”