Foster still manned the M2 machinegun in the Humvee’s cupola.
“Contact,” he said suddenly, bringing the weapon around.
Lee shouldered his M4 and peered through the optical scope mounted to the weapon’s top rail. Stepping out of the trees was a man wearing a blue blazer and boxer shorts. His face was covered in dried blood that had been purposefully applied. He carried what looked to be a spear gun, of all things, and he smiled broadly and waved as he started trotting toward them. Lee could see the man’s shoulders shaking as he laughed.
Lee squeezed off two shots, and the man fell facedown into the field four hundred feet away.
“Good shootin’, sir,” Murphy said casually. “Hope he wasn’t just going to ask for a ride.”
“With a spear gun?” Lee asked.
Murphy shrugged. “True. This being Massachusetts and all, I’m surprised he even had that.” The soldier took a moment to shove a chunk of chaw into his mouth, tucking it behind his lower lip.
A truck rumbled over while a second Humvee pulled past Lee’s vehicle. Both came to a halt. Command Sergeant Major Turner alighted from the Humvee and did a full scan of the area. Several lightfighters jumped out of the truck bed. One of them was considerably larger than the others. Lee sighed. It was the Duke himself—Muldoon.
Murphy did a quick inventory of the new arrivals. “Hey, it’s your old buddy, sir.”
Lee grunted. “Everyone needs a mascot.”
Flanked by two other senior NCOs, Turner walked over to Lee’s position and saluted. Lee returned the gesture.
“Sorry for crashing the party, sir,” Turner said.
“What’s the story, Sergeant Major?” Lee asked.
Turner’s gaze fell on the Klown Lee had capped. “Just providing some additional security, sir. This is kind of an unusual set of circumstances. I want to have some more boots in the area.”
Lee raised an eyebrow. “Unusual circumstances? You mean the fact that infected citizens want to either kill us or infect us?”
Turner gave Lee a hollow look. “I meant unusual in that the commander of the attack helicopter battalion wanted to have a face-to-face with you, sir, as opposed to conducting business over the radio.”
Lee nodded. “Yeah, I guess that is odd.”
“Thought aviators didn’t like to spend any time on the ground,” Murphy said. “I hear they’re afraid some eleven bravo might put ‘em to work.”
“Sounds a lot like you, fah-go,” Foster said, using the corrupted version of “faggot” to refer to his friend standing near the Humvee.
Murphy smirked. “Easy there, Hoss—it’s an equal-opportunity Army now.”
Lee looked over at Turner, who just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Soldier, why don’t you step away from the Humvee and take up a tactical position,” Turner said. “And by the way, that’s not just a suggestion.”
“You got it, Sergeant Major,” Murphy said.
“Hey, Murph?” Foster asked.
“What, cupcake?”
“The phrase ‘tactical position’ does not mean bend over and spread ’em,” Foster advised.
“I’ll pass that on to your mom and sister,” Murphy said, moving off to stand thirty feet from the Humvee’s front bumper. He took a knee, the stock of his rifle pulled into his armpit.
Muldoon strolled toward the vehicle, accompanied by a shorter man whose nametape read NUTTER.
“’Sup, Duke?” Murphy asked.
“My johnson,” Muldoon said. He marched past the soldier and advanced toward Lee and the others. “Looks like we’re your new security detail,” he said to Lee.
“Is that so?” Lee asked.
Turner nodded.
“Muldoon’s platoon is severely understrength, down to about a squad. I figured it would be a good idea to pull together a silver bullet element to keep the Klowns off you, sir.”
“It’s a bullshit duty,” Muldoon said.
“Duke, take it easy, man,” Nutter said.
Turner was on Muldoon in an instant, getting right in the bigger man’s face. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Muldoon didn’t bat an eye. “I said, ‘it’s a bullshit duty,’ Sergeant Major. Hearing issues, much?”
Turner grinned. “Son, you are going to get severely fucked up.”
“That’s enough,” Lee said, stepping forward. “Back off. Both of you.”
Neither man moved, so Lee pushed in between them, physically separating the two as Nutter grabbed Muldoon’s pack and pulled him away, and another NCO did the same with Turner. Turner shrugged the guy off and glared up at Muldoon. He was the battalion command sergeant major, and Muldoon, for all his skills at war craft, was making a serious mistake in pushing Turner’s buttons.
“Muldoon, you will stop being a fucking prick,” Lee said. “You’re in the Army, and you’re not some four-star general. You’re a fucking E-5. Your missions get picked for you. When did this not become clear?”
Muldoon looked at Lee and grinned.
Lee wasn’t going to take it. “Got something to add?”
Muldoon looked as though he wanted to say something, then the smile faded from his face, and he shook his head. “No, sir. I’m good to go.”
“Then unless you’re here to get additional direction or make a report, return to your men and make sure they’re squared away,” Turner said. “We’re not going to have this conversation again, Sergeant. You need to be one thousand percent clear on that.”
“I’m clear on it, Sergeant Major,” Muldoon said then turned to Lee. “Anything else, sir?”
“You’re free to go, Sergeant.” Lee returned Muldoon’s salute, and the big sergeant stalked off. Nutter followed, looking back at Lee apologetically.
Lee asked Turner, “What the hell was that about?”
Turner sighed. “Muldoon and I have never gotten along, sir. I apologize for the theatrics, but we have differing philosophies on how a soldier should comport himself in combat.”
“Muldoon always did right by me,” Lee said. “Mostly.”
“He’s smart and has no fear,” Turner said, “but usually not at the same time.”
Another Humvee pulled over, and more soldiers emerged. Lee watched as Major Walker climbed out of the vehicle and looked around, clutching his assault rifle. Walker saw Lee and made a beeline for him.
“How’s it going, Walker?” Lee asked when the major was within earshot.
Walker presented him with a ghost of a smile, and shook his head. “It’s going, and that’s about all I can say about that. You have a second for me, sir?”
“Sure.” Lee looked at Turner. “Hold the fort, Sarmajor.”
“Yes, sir,” Turner replied.
Lee and Walker moved away from the vehicles a bit under the watchful eye of the soldiers providing area security. Lee kicked at a rock in the field, and watched as a grasshopper bounded away.
“So I guess the whole thing about making you a lieutenant colonel kind of blew up in our faces,” Walker said. “Someone talked. Any idea who it might be?”
Lee shook his head. “No. Not really. It’s not important, anyway.”
“In retrospect, it was a dumb thing to do. A lot of the troops aren’t happy with it, and that could cost us,” Walker said.
“Turner’s good to go with it,” Lee said. “We’ll let him square away the rest of the NCOs. We just need to keep the rest of the officers in line.” He looked at Walker, who stood beside him, sweating in the sun. “I own this, Walker. Not you. No one held a gun to my head and told me to assume the rank.”
Walker gave Lee that faint smile again. “Well, holding you at gunpoint was one of my contingency plans.”
Lee snorted and shook his head. “It’s done. I’ll deal with it. Don’t sweat it, Major. I’ll take the heat.” He knew that’s what Walker wanted to hear.