CHAPTER 21

   The rumors of the impregnability of Seau-Neaut Imperial Air Base turned out to be greatly exaggerated. Vega's rescue mission had been rerouted there, once they had everyone they could find at the consulate. The rumor mill had been turning out a story that the egg layers were avoiding American facilities because they were hard targets and, Lolita had to admit, she had actually believed that story. She had seen what had happened in the south and while the Temple got a pounding, NIKA was barely touched. To by pass an enemy strong hold and go after his weak points only made tactical sense but, for Lolita at least, Seau-Neaut was the end of that rumor. While it was, technically an Elf facility, the fact was that Seau-Neaut had been mostly manned and run by Americans for the better part of a year now. Good old Uncle Sam had walked right in and took the place over. This fact did not seem to have deterred the Orc from trying to reduce the place.
There had mainly been support units stationed there. Most of First Brigade's logistics were run out of that base. When you added in some Air Force guys and then a few units from the Feyland Empire, you could sum it up by saying that the place was really never heavily defended. No one had ever thought it would need to be. When the Orcs struck in force, the commanders there had pressed everyone, that could pick up a weapon, into service. That included everything from payroll clerks to the lightly wounded from the field hospital. Along with wave after wave of infantry, the Orc had blasted the place with those big ass guns of theirs too. Those were fired from way up in the hills so it must have come as a nasty shock to the guys at Seau-Neaut. Lolita tried but, she could not bring herself to feel sorry for them.
If anything, Lolita was happy to get out of that place. The defenders had managed to hold on to the place and the fighting there had died down but the living conditions were not like the old days. That used to be the place you wanted to go if you could snag a few off days. Now, the rec center was a charred ruins, the indoor plumbing was off, and electricity was a need only kind of thing. Most of the guys stationed there had no idea how to adapt to field conditions and, as a result, their latrines were haphazard at best. The entire base smelled like a rotting sewer. Lolita's only regret when she got on that chopper was that it took so long to snag a ride back to the Five-Oh-Six.
Of course, Lolita had other reasons for wanting to leave. When her scouts had stormed the consulate, the last person she had ever expected to see was Gabe Foster. He actually laughed when he realized who had come to rescue him. Fortunately, he had kept his mouth shut for most of the ride home but, for the few days they had to stay at the airbase, he predictably sought Lolita out. Oddly, it was not for the reasons that Lolita would have guessed. He seemed not only serious but, quite sincere when he told her, “you be extra fucking careful out there.”
Lolita did not have any words for him that sounded cordial, “no shit Gabe. I'm in the middle of a fucking war zone. What do you think I'm going to do?”
He actually risked a physical fight when he grabbed her arm and looked her dead in the eye, “I'm serious. If you're ever going to listen to me, this is the best time.”
Having grown up with the guy, Lolita knew when he was trying to be a pest and when his sentiments were really there. This was definitely one of the latter and she did not deck him for putting his hands on her. Instead, she just pulled her arm away and asked, “you mind giving me some specifics here, or, is just some more of your bullshit?”
Gabe actually looked torn as he thought about what to say. He finally just put his palms out and shrugged, “I'm serious. Watch your ass. Things have changed. That's all I can say right now.”
It was a warning that Lolita had largely forgotten when she made it back to her battalion. Then, the first person she recognized when she got off the chopper was Dawn Dixon. The little girl did not look anything like Lolita remembered. The little girl no longer had that fresh looking face of an FNG. Her eyes were vacant and her face had a dull pale hue that was more than her freckles could handle. The odd part, and it made Lolita get a twinge up her spine, was that it had only been a few days since Lolita had last seen the girl.
Dawn told her fellow Lieutenant, “I've been running a platoon in Bravo Company.”
That was a little surprising to Vega, “they already gave you a platoon?” The newbies usually rode shotgun with more experienced officers, for months, before they actually handed over a combat slot to them. How did Dawn wind up with a platoon? Vega was not even sure the girl new the basics but, then again, she had obviously learned a lot in the past few days. Her face, her attitude, and just her general demeanor spoke volumes about that.
Dawn was, also, obviously rushed. She excused herself but, had a parting gift for Vega. It came in the form of a warning, “keep a sidearm handy.”
Lolita was not impressed, “that's like shooting at a tank with a slingshot.”
Dawn was dead serious, “not for them, for you.”
“What?” That was the most insane thing Lolita had ever heard. “The snot nosed bastards will do that for you if they ever get that close. I got no intentions of letting them.”
“No,” Dawn got right in her face and kept her voice down as she told Lolita, “you don't get it. I didn't ether when I first heard the rumors. I've seen things though. They'll come after you. I mean go out of their way to do it. I saw them do it. They drug some private off. We could still here her screaming down by the river. I'm guessing they took her back.”
Lolita was going to throw that back in the rookies face but, then she thought about what Gabe had told her. Instead of a smart ass comment, Lolita only thanked the girl before they parted ways. Then Lolita went about her business of making sense of the battalion's forward operating base. It was set up right at the outskirts of the city and centered on the ruins of a bigger building that used to be something besides a burned out shell. Sandbags were still going up around it and hard points were still being dug in. Lolita noted a lack of razor wire and, when she asked some sergeant about it, all he could say was, “we don't have any.” How was that even possible? Lolita remembered seeing field after field of that stuff back at the airbase. Then she realized that was before the attack. All she could say on the matter was, “damn.”
When she finally found Colonel Hogan he seemed to be his usual self. He was in the TOC and busy barking at people. When he finally acknowledged Lolita it was with a, “hope you enjoyed your vacation, Lieutenant.” When Lolita failed to bite, Hogan actually laughed at her with a very sardonic tone. Then he asked the obvious questions about where her platoon was and he seemed satisfied enough before dropping his bombshell, “I'm breaking your unit up. Your guys will be used as replacements...”
“Excuse me sir,” Lolita now was ready to bite back, “but my guys are...”
Hogan did not even seem excited by Lolita's sudden lack of respect. If anything, she would have guessed that the guy did not even care. How did that happen? Hogan had not changed in one respect though. He got right to the heart of the matter, “you think I'm doing this cause I don't like you.”
Lolita held her ground, “that would be an accurate tactical assessment, sir.”
“Well you're right about one thing Lieutenant,” Hogan said in an almost amused tone, “I don't like you but, that has nothing to do with this. My personal feelings not withstanding, you also happen to be the most seasoned junior officer we currently have.” In an almost ominous way, Hogan continued, “and in the last forty-eight hours, that list grew mighty short. You're taking over Delta Company. Right now, we need line officers, not scouts.”
A command? He was giving her a company? How desperate was the situation? Lolita could remember a day, only last week in fact, when this man wouldn't have considered her for leading a detail to paint a fence. Lolita also did not hide her feelings but, it would seem that Hogan guessed wrong about reading her expressions. Then again, Lolita considered, maybe the guy did not care because she realized his next words could have just as easily been the man feeling sorry for himself, “what, you think any of us want this shit? I wanted a battalion but, not like this.”
Suddenly Lolita realized something. She looked around the hastily constructed bunker and realized there were more than a few people missing and that included the CO. Hogan was just the operations officer, running the S-3 shop, and that made him only third in command. Was he her acting boss now? Lolita gulped and then said, “sir, I just...”
Hogan obviously had no interest in listening because he quickly cut her off, “there's going to be a lot of shake ups in the next few days. Division is sending us everybody they can and we have to fill slots at every level. This isn't the same war we were fighting last week, Lieutenant. Get used to that because none of us have a choice in the matter. Our jobs as officers is to make sure that doesn't effect the fighting capabilities of this battalion. Is that clear?”
What could Lolita say to that but, “yes sir.”
Why was it that, when Lolita left the TOC, she realized she was feeling almost exactly the same way as Hogan? He had wanted a battalion and she had wanted a company but, somehow, this was not the way she had saw it going down. There was no fanfare, there was no change of command ceremony, there was nothing at at all but, an order to go out and take over. Lolita suspected there was not going to be a honeymoon period ether. She was not going to be afforded the luxury of easing into a command. One look at the guy she was sent to find was enough to tell her that.
The first problem that Lolita noticed was the patch on his dirty and torn uniform. She pointed at it and asked this Sergeant First Class, “you're one of our tenth mountain guys?”
Josh Hallowell did not act like he was all that happy about having to get up from the little bed he had made from a pile of debris. How he was comfortable sleeping there was beyond Lolita and, that was saying something considering some of the places she had made a bed. He brushed himself off and had an easy going manner about him, along with a southern drawl, “yeah that would be me. I'm acting First Sergeant for Delta. I guess I'm also the acting XO, supply sergeant, and a few other  things not worth mentioning. So you're Lieutenant Vega. I've heard tell of you.”
“Yeah?” Lolita tossed it right back, “well I've heard tell of you volunteers, too. I can't say my estimations of your intelligence is all that high. Why anybody would want to come to this shit is beyond me.”
“Don't let the drawl throw you Eltee,” Hallowell said as he slipped on the rest of his gear, “I actually graduated from the third grade. I was a brain surgeon before I joined the army.”
“I don't know about your brain sergeant but,” Lolita replied, “your ass sounds pretty smart.”
“It's cute too,” Hallowell replied and then added, “and that was my second degree. I got that one in kindergarten.” He then yelled out, “Tonto!”
Before Lolita could even ask, a shabby looking guy, obviously a local, came running up. To say that this man was sparsely equipped would be an understatement. He had on a light brown shirt, shabby and torn shorts that were a shade or two darker, and carried a large caliber bolt action rifle of a design that Lolita was unfamiliar with. She thought it might be a local hunting rifle but, was not all that sure. It was probably a good thing that it appeared to have a low rate of fire because the man could not be carrying much extra ammo. He had no belt, no bags, no anywhere that he could store beans or bullets. The guy also lacked shoes. Despite all of this, he was smiling.
In stark contrast to his appearance, this Tonto guy, sounded like he walked right out of a finely polished finishing school. He had a beautiful accent that was almost captivating when he replied, “are we ready to return, Mister Hallowell.”
Josh nodded to the guy and told Lolita, “this is our token local French Resistance Fighter. I call him Tonto.”
Lolita took another look at the guy and was no more impressed than the first time, “that you're real name?”
With as much dignity as one can muster when looking like Tonto, he replied, “Mister Hallowell cannot pronounce my real name.” He then added, “I am also not French. I am a scout for the Two-Eleven Infantry Division.”
Hallowell added, “the local militia. Tonto here is like our liaison with those guys. You know, to make sure they don't shoot as us too. It works, most of the time.”
As the little party moved out, Lolita could only comment, “oh this is going to be a barrel of laughs. I can already see it.”