Hypocrisy in the workplace, eh?
“You’ve got talent,” he continues, looking right at me. “And you should utilize it. Chris is going to try to hold you back because he wants to keep you safe. Don’t let that happen.”
I bristle at the suggestion that Chris would do that… but he’s right.
“I don’t know how he would hold me back,” I say.
“Easy. He’ll put you in positions where you can’t get hurt. Where you won’t be used to your full potential.” He leans forward. “Don’t let him do that to you. We need everybody’s talent on the line, here. You’re quick with your hands and your feet. You’re a good shot. We can use you.”
He takes a long breath, reaching for a cigarette.
How many of those does he have? I think.
“Thanks for the advice,” I say, uninspired.
“Don’t mention it.” He stands up, dusting his pants off. “Like I said before, be careful.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Just don’t let yourself be pushed aside. That goes for you too, Rodriguez.”
Sophia perks up when he mentions her last name. He walks away, flipping a lighter out of his pocket. I make a face and return to my meal.
“He’s handsome,” she sighs.
“He’s strange.” I brush my bangs out of my eyes. “I don’t know why he felt the need to tell us that. It doesn’t even make sense.”
“Maybe he’s just a nice guy who’s concerned about us.”
“Maybe… he was in charge until Chris came around.” I tilt my head back and try to put myself in his shoes. “If I were him, I’d probably be a little upset about it.”
Sophia ignores me.
We the eat the rest of our lunch in silence, thinking about our training, thinking about Alexander Ramos, thinking about poor, cowardly Harry. When we’re done, we join the other recruits for some more training. I find myself zoning out and struggling to stay awake as the warm afternoon daylight hits my face.
“Can you believe it?” Sophia whispers.
“Hmm?”
I blink a few times, lifting my drowsy head, focusing in on Chris’s figure standing over me. He’s looking at me with an expression of wry amusement — or annoyance. Probably the latter.
“What?” I say, stifling a yawn.
“Weren’t you paying attention?” he asks.
“Sorry. Sunshine puts me to sleep.”
Sophia smirks.
“He just said we’re going to hit Omega for real this time. Hard.”
Chris has my full attention now.
“What? The raid on the labor camp wasn’t real enough?” I quip.
“You’re ready,” he says, looking at me, then focusing on something in the distance. Ignoring my sarcasm. “You need firsthand experience.”
But I can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he’s not taking this lightly. Good. Because neither am I.
Are we ready for this?
Ready or not, here we come. That’s our motto for the next few hours. Chris is standing next to me on the edge of camp, cinching up his boots, rechecking his gear. The sky is dark, broken only by starlight filtering through the clouds. I’m standing there, twiddling my thumbs, full of nervous energy as I get my gear together in the near darkness of the forest. Rifle? Check. Sling? Double check. Shoelaces tied? Make that a triple check, and just to be on the safe side, I’ll throw in a double knot. Jeff’s knife is strapped around my thigh. It’s always been something like a good luck charm to me in the past, so I like to keep it with me.
Chris straightens up and places his hands on my shoulders. With his black clothing, he blends into the shadows around the campsite.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says. “I’ll be with you.”
“You can’t stick with me all the time,” I reply. “You’ve got a militia to lead. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll worry about you if I want to.”
He pulls me into a gentle kiss. I melt into him, desperate to touch him. I feel like this is some kind of goodbye.
That’s irrational, I tell myself. We’ll be back in no time.
But this is war. Anything could happen.
Across the camp, the muted shadow of Alexander Ramos is standing still, his arms folded across his chest, watching us. As Chris wraps his arms around me for a final, comforting hug, I place my head against his chest and watch him.
Don’t let yourself be pushed aside, he said.
Stupid advice. Chris isn’t afraid of letting me help.
“Stick to the plan and follow orders,” Chris says, “and you’ll be fine. Don’t deviate. If things go bad, head to the rally point where the vehicles will be. You can’t mess around and wing it, Cassie. This is life or death.”
I nod.
“Yes, sir.”
He smiles softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
The militia hasn’t made a move against Omega since Chris and his group attacked the labor camp. This will be the first mission we’ve attempted since all the liberated prisoners became new recruits over the last few weeks. Our target is an Omega supply depot in Squaw Valley.
“Omega is using people like you and me to farm the land and collect the supplies,” Chris says, gathering everybody around the center of camp. We’re all dressed in dark clothes, blending in with the night. “They’re an invading army, and we can surmise that they’re an advance force prepping for the next wave of troops to come in, so they need our food to keep going. Not to mention our labor. So what we need to do is make it impossible for Omega to stay here by taking away what they need, and making sure any new forces in the area don’t have a reason to settle in. The best way to do this is to cut off their supply chain. We start by liberating the POWs and taking back the food supplies. Just like we’ve done in the past, but on a larger scale.” He takes a step back, locking gazes with me for a moment. “We’re not training anymore. This is real. You get one chance to do your job right, and if you hesitate, there’s a very real chance that you will endanger the mission or get yourself killed. It’s important that you follow orders. Focus on the objective. Continually keep the enemy reacting to our actions. This will keep you and your friends alive.”
He pauses.
“But the best soldier is the one who can improvise,” he continues. “There will be instances in which my orders do not fit with a given situation. You’ll be forced to make a tough decision. Think on your feet and do what you know is right. We can’t afford to take many losses. Every man counts. Take the road that will get as many of you out of that situation alive. Keep your group together and make sure you maintain communication with the members of your team. A battlefield is loud and chaotic, and it’s easy to get separated. Do exactly as you’ve been trained. Shoot, move, and communicate. Fighting rarely goes as planned, so yes, follow orders, but be prepared to adapt, improvise and overcome when things get hard.” He folds his arms across his chest, keeping his gaze steady. “We’ll be separated into four platoons. Each platoon will take one side of the depot, surrounding it on all sides. Only two platoons will attack at a time. Omega will turn to respond with fire, and then our next two platoons will open fire from the other side, as we discussed in training. It will keep them guessing. Our most powerful weapon tonight will be the element of surprise. Max and his team will be in charge of opening the gate for us.”
A few of the men chuckle. Max’s team is comprised of demolition experts and men who know how to make things go boom in a major way.
“While our three platoons are surrounding the depot,” Chris finishes, “Max’s team will be maneuvering to breach the front gate with explosives, essentially giving us a way to enter the property. We should be able to pin Omega’s forces against the rear concrete wall. They’ll be trapped. Nowhere to run.”