“To clear it,” Hamilton said. “I’m not sure that’s possible, Lieutenant. Not thoroughly.”
“Not sure myself, sir,” Faith said. “Not entirely. But it may be clearable enough to secure a land base. Somewhere for a ground hospital even, sir. It’s in better shape, and more securable, than Gitmo, sir. It’s an island, sir. Zombies aren’t going to swim the channel, sir.”
“Have anything to do with that world-class resort you and Sergeant Smith did an unauthorized reconnaissance of?” Colonel Hamilton asked.
“It wasn’t unauthorized, sir,” Faith said.
“I didn’t authorize it,” Hamilton said.
“Your Marine force ground commander authorized it, sir,” Faith said.
“So, better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Lieutenant?” Hamilton said.
“I’m not begging forgiveness, sir,” Faith replied. “The orders for the landing party did not define that all personnel must remain within the confines of the secured zone, sir. During the landing, your ground force commander made the determination, based upon experience and the perceived threat level, that a low-support reconnaissance of nearby buildings was a low-risk mission, sir. And, sir, your ground force commander was correct, sir. Should I be begging forgiveness, sir?”
“I would not have authorized it, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said.
“I understand that, sir,” Faith said. “In the future I will keep that in mind, sir.”
“And you really think it was a good idea?” Hamilton said.
“I’m sure you don’t think so, sir,” Faith said. “However, sir, having very briefly swept the two resorts, the smaller one by the main beach and the big one, I’m of the opinion that I could walk from one end of the island stark naked with maybe one pistol and not have a problem. Except I don’t go around stark naked, sir. Obviously. Sir, I think this island is clear, sir. I mean, pretty much deserted. No real threats left. Or so close that I’m not sure we’d pull up leakers with one more sweep. We did detect one possible infected, sir. But it was…shy. It was following us but it was staying away.”
“Really,” Hamilton said, leaning back. “A shy infected doesn’t seem…” He paused and frowned.
“My da ran into something similar one time, sir,” Faith said. “Early on he made a covert landing on one of the small Bermuda islands. It’s where he picked up his little helpers, sir. And he ran into a female that just ran away when he…sort of did like a chimp. Oook! Oook!” she finished, bowing up.
“So some of them are beta?” Hamilton said.
“Yes, sir,” Faith replied. “Still not…word…sounds like sentence…”
“Sentient?” Hamilton said.
“Yes, sir,” Faith said. “They’re still not sentient, sir. But they’re also nonaggressive. Or at least less aggressive. I’m not sure I’d want to try to catch one, sir. On the other hand…I had a clear shot at this one and didn’t take it, sir. She didn’t seem to be a threat, sir.”
“Plausible,” Hamilton said. “The human brain is a tricky thing. But that means the island is not clear.”
“You saw how the zombies act, sir,” Faith said. “Your pe—The personnel from Gitmo had more time watching zombies than any of the rest of us. They are territorial and only…swarm when there’s an apparent food source, sir. Sort of like piranha. The…beta ones that are…smarter have probably learned to not even turn up for the feeding frenzies. Which means they avoid the normal attractors like light and sound, sir. On the other hand, based on this one and the one in Bermuda, they also are low-threat. Sir…we need a secure ground base, sir. I think we have one. Low yellow to…lightish green, sir. Yellowish green.”
“Chartreuse?” Hamilton said.
“Excuse me, sir?” Faith said.
“Yellow with a touch of green, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said drily. “Slightly more yellow and less green than lime or spring-bud. And, no, despite the recall of Don’t ask, don’t tell, I am not gay. Just into information.”
“I would say more lime, sir,” Faith replied. “More green than yellow.”
“Perhaps spring bud, then,” Hamilton said.
“Are we actually having this conversation, sir?” Faith asked.
“Not anymore,” Hamilton said. “More important item. I’ve convinced Squadron that Gunnery Sergeant Sands is more valuable to us than to Guantanamo.”
“Oorah, sir,” Faith said.
“Oorah, indeed, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said. “So he and the captain are on their way down. The captain wishes to talk directly to our astral visitors, and the gunnery sergeant will take over as platoon sergeant as well as running training. Issues?”
“No, sir,” Faith said, a slight tone of surprise in her voice. “Looking forward to it, sir. NCOs handle training, sir. That’s how it’s supposed to be as I understand things, sir.”
“I understand that you ran the training of the Iwo Marines, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said.
“That was before the gunny was back on his feet, sir,” Faith said. “And I wasn’t an officer then, sir. And it was showing them the difference between regular clearance and zombie clearance, sir. NCOs handle training, sir.”
“Very well,” Hamilton said, ticking off an item on his checklist. “When the gunnery sergeant gets here he will coordinate training for all Marine personnel as well as Navy Landing forces with the appropriate senior NCOs on the Navy side. Once training is complete, or as complete as we can make it given time constraints, we will consider doing a night sweep as further supplemental training.”
“If I may add, sir?” Faith said.
“Yes?”
“There are sure to be some liners tied up over in St. Martin, sir,” Faith said. “No training like crawling around in the bowels of a ship, sir.”
“They also take a good bit of time to clear, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said. “And we are already well over our planned time for this sweep.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said. “Permission to ask when the gunnery sergeant will arrive, sir?”
“They’re supposed to be arriving this evening,” Hamilton said. “Apparently they left Gitmo in your father’s fast boat, then sent the message. If I’d had more warning I’d have had everyone do a nice GI party.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“As it is, we will have a greeting party,” Hamilton said. “Go get with Staff Sergeant Barnard and have her ensure the greeting party is prepared. I’ll have Sergeant Major Barney do the same on the Navy side.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“And that’s it,” Hamilton said. “We’re on short time. Roll it, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“Welcome aboard, sir!” Hamilton boomed, saluting Captain Smith.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Smith said, returning the salute, then saluting the colors. “Very nice turn-out.”
There was a line of sailors and Marines in surprisingly neat uniforms lined up to greet the arriving Commander Atlantic Fleet.
“Thank you, sir,” Hamilton said, returning the gunnery sergeant’s salute. “Pleasure to have you aboard, Gunnery Sergeant Sands.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sands said, running a gimlet eye over the Marine guard. He didn’t look all that pleased. “Looking forward to joining your force, sir.”
“Shall we repair below, sir?” Hamilton asked.
“Of course,” Smith said. “Though, you’ll need to get a working party together. We didn’t just bring ourselves. One of the containers we opened was destined for a hospital in Ghana. It didn’t have much in the way of materials to produce the vaccine but it did have useful medical supplies. So we arrive bearing gifts. What we could fit in the Achille. There’s more on the way via the Pit Stop, which is following us.”