Damage Control (Valiant Knox) (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

L
eigh stood in parade stance next to Seb and Lawler trying to look relaxed, despite the fact his inside were churning like he’d eaten a plate of five-alarm chili from that Mexican place on commerce level of the
Knox
.

The second shuttle of recruits was touching down, the one with Mia on board. Another fifteen recruits stood on the damp earth of the training yard, bags still over their heads, each stiller and more silent than the last. Four had already been led off by Bren and booted from the program after they’d taken the bait, proving themselves weak of character and ready to sell out to the enemy at the slightest provocation.

Most years, he didn’t care too much more about this section of testing than any other. As far as he’d been concerned, it was one more requirement to be fulfilled. Besides, it had been done to him the year he’d completed the FP training program, and he’d survived just fine.

But other years, there hadn’t been a certain golden-haired recruit who had him tied up in so many emotional knots, he was starting to have trouble working out which way was up or down. He’d wanted so badly to tell Mia last night what she’d be facing today, but to be fair to her, all of the other recruits, and the whole damn FP squadron, he’d kept his mouth shut, despite knowing the fear and panic she’d have to suffer. And this year, with traitors in their ranks, he, Seb, and Bren had agreed to go a little harder on the recruits, to see if they could shake anything loose. Maybe it was a stretch to think any of these recruits, who’d only just arrived in the Brannon System, could be traitors, but these days, he was suspicious of everyone. And after almost getting sucked out of a launch bay, he’d decided there was no such thing as being too careful.

The old junker of a shuttle they’d confiscated from the CSS a few years back jolted down with a
thud
and whine of tired metal. He winced as Seb muttered something about putting the thing out to pasture before it killed someone. The ancient shuttle was pretty much a death trap waiting to happen, but it had served them well in testing recruits and inserting small teams of UEF soldiers into CSS-held territories over the years.

The rear hatchway of the shuttle opened and Cam strolled out, hood pushed back. He stepped aside and watched as the soldiers he’d handpicked to help him in this training drill led nine recruits out and carried one other.

Leigh walked over to join him, gaze brushing over Mia as he passed her at a distance.

“What happened to that one?” He nodded toward the recruit being carried.

“Fought off two of my men and laid hands on a weapon. I used a dark-round on him.” Cam stripped the CSS robes off and chucked them back into the shuttle. “It was impressive. If he happens to flunk out of your high and mighty FP regime, send him my way. I’ll gladly add him to one of my specialized teams.”

He sent Cam a grin, though he wasn’t exactly feeling it. “With any luck, he won’t flunk out.”

Cam nodded toward the recruits being led over to the others already waiting to form a second line. “None of this lot caved. They all kept their mouths shut. The dark-haired girl, the one with the small scar on her chin, she put up a good fight, too, though you might want to check her anger issues. Said something about her brother being killed.”

He made a mental note of it. “Thanks, I’ll make sure we cover it when she’s debriefed.”

“I’ve got to get back, but thanks for the morning’s entertainment. And good luck. Seb’s taking odds on how many walk-outs you’ll get from this, so I’ll be checking in later to hear the results.”

“Seb should know better than to gamble with you. In fact, he should know better than to gamble with anyone by now.”

Cam gave a short laugh. “What would we use for beer money every week if Seb didn’t gamble?”

“Good point.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sub-lieutenant in question, directing the last of the recruits into line. “I better get to it.”

Cam sent him a salute, then called his men into formation.

Leigh returned the salutation, watching for a moment as Cam led his team toward the few intact buildings left in what had once been the main base on Ilari. Major operations had shifted to the secondary base after the bombing a few weeks ago. As of now, what had once been a thriving headquarters for troops and other necessary functions had been reduced to the skeleton staff of a minor outpost.

Leigh strolled over to Seb, who now stood waiting in front of the lined-up recruits. Lawler and a couple of his fighter pilots began untying the recruits. Some immediately yanked the bags from their heads, while others seemed hesitant to move and waited until it was done for them.

As they were all uncovered and took a moment to comprehend where they were, he forced himself not to look directly at Mia. If he did, if he saw any of the fear or hurt in her gaze, he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t break him.

A ripple of exclamation passed along the line of recruits and Leigh stepped forward. “At ease, recruits.”

The group immediately fell quiet, no doubt any fight or defiance scared right out of them.

“As you may have worked out by now, you were not captured by the enemy, but have proven that you can hold it together when faced with such a prospect.”

“This was a
test
?” a recruit demanded, one of Steve’s buddies. Besides him, Steve and one other Ackerly alumni hadn’t washed out yet. “What in the hell kind of test do you call that?”

“The kind where I make sure you won’t give us up to the enemy the first second you face any real kind of danger.” The same question got asked every time, and his answer always remained the same. It might have been cruel, but it had been necessary. “You’re welcome to register your disapproval with Commander Yang as you’re leaving.”

“You’re damn right I’m leaving!” The recruit stomped out of line. “And I’ll be taking this up with UEF command. This is unconscionable! You can’t just go around making people think they’ve been taken by the CSS.”

“Go right ahead. Others have tried and yet here we are, doing the same thing with each new FP class.”

The recruit swore and stalked away, toward the buildings.

“Anyone else feel they were treated unfairly or unduly, I will remind you that this is war, and this is a reality you may face one day.”

For a moment no one moved, but then three other recruits broke away to follow the first across the training yard.

The others shifted uneasily, but he didn’t say anything until the four who’d quit had left.

“The rest of today will be considered downtime. You’ll all be given an appointment for individual debriefing, but otherwise the mess hall, showers, and other amenities are yours for the next few hours. We’ll be returning to the
Knox
at seventeen hundred. The transport will be leaving from the launch pad on the hour and if you’re not on board then, I’ll assume you’ve decided to take a ground posting instead. Recruits, dismissed.”

“Wait, sir.” Leigh froze as Mia called out. His determination not to look directly at her got whitewashed by the simple sound of her voice, and his gaze had landed on her before he could even think about resisting.

Her skin was a little pale, damp tracks down the side of her face and hair a tousled mess; she looked just as hard-done-by as the rest of them. But looking at any of the other recruits didn’t make his heart squeeze.

“Sir, what about Granger? He was shot.” Her voice came out carefully even, but a slight tremor betrayed the truth of her turbulent emotions.

“Granger is fine,” he answered, working to keep the tone of his voice impersonal. “He was hit with what we call a dark-round. It’s specialized training ammo that renders a person unconscious on impact. He’s probably waking up in the field-med building right about now. Hit the showers and get some food, recruits. This is the only downtime you’ll get for the rest of the training program.”

He stepped back and turned toward Seb before Mia or any other recruit could start questioning him. His mood was rapidly darkening, and he didn’t feel like playing guidance counselor to any recruit’s bruised emotions right now.

“Did we lose more or less than you expected?” Seb asked as he joined him to watch them head off toward the buildings across the yard.

“I hadn’t given it too much thought. I suppose between the walk-outs and the four who caved, we probably cut the usual number.”

Now that he was no longer standing in front of the group of bedraggled recruits, he let himself search out Mia, watching as she walked next to Kayla, though her hand rested on the shoulder of another girl… Nicki? No, Nicka. The recruit Cam said had also put up a fight, but might have issues.

But the question of Nicka’s suitability for the program dropped away as his gaze returned to Mia. He’d sworn to take care of her, and no doubt in the aftermath of this harsh psychological test she’d definitely be in need of comfort. Yet he was still bound by duty and limited in what he could do for her. Part of him wondered if he might not be better simply staying away and not put either of them in the path of temptation like he had last night. By all rights, he shouldn’t have made any contact with her the evening before, let alone led her into taking any kind of risk of them being caught. Yes, he’d needed to make sure she was aware of the danger to her, that she was watching out for herself. However, giving even the slightest credence to the flame that had kindled between them was beyond stupid.

But any illusions of control he’d hung onto might as well have all the consistency of space dust when he was alone with her. Worse, it seemed he didn’t
want
to stay in control. He’d found a heady, dangerous freedom in the things he felt when he was around her, the sensations becoming almost addictive.

“Is everything okay with you?” Seb’s quiet question jolted him and he half turned to look at his sub-lieutenant.

“Fine. Why are you asking?”

Seb’s expression wasn’t giving anything away as he shrugged. “You just seem a little extreme lately. Well, extreme for
you
. Maybe not as buttoned down as you’ve been in the past. I mean, I’m not complaining. Half the
Knox
are convinced you’re really some AI-borg with no actual feelings. It’s an interesting change to know you can lose it like the rest of us every now and then.”

He sent Seb an unimpressed frown. “Good to know my apparent emotional breakdown is a validation of your own shortcomings.”

Seb grinned. “Is that what this is, some emotional breakdown? And here I just thought you had the hots for one of the recruits.”

Cold shock zapped him like electrified razors. “What have you heard—”

“Nothing.” Seb laughed, lightly punching him in the upper arm. “Geez, don’t have a coronary. No one has said anything. But I’m not stupid. You get a certain gleam in your eye when you look at Wolfe. I only noticed because I know you so well. And I’m not judging. I can’t say I haven’t lusted after a gorgeous new recruit a time or two myself over the years. Just do yourself a favor and wait until after the FP training program is finished if you’re going to hit that.”

“Because if she ends up under my command, it would be slightly less wrong than getting involved with her while she’s still a recruit?”

“Exactly.” Seb’s grin widened. “Anyway, it’s technically only wrong if you get caught. Don’t get caught, and you won’t have a problem.”

“Thanks for the advice,” he muttered dryly.

“Whenever you need it. Now I need some breakfast.” Seb saluted and then sauntered off across the yard to catch up with Lawler.

Leigh let the short conversation with Seb roll over him as the new, unfamiliar quietness of the base pressed around him. A slight breeze swirled through the training yard, bringing with it the lingering chill of last night’s rain and the lone call of a bird. After years of everything being so routinely the same, it had all suddenly started shifting and changing—from the varying dynamics of the war they were fighting with the CSS to his own personal battle in making sense of the chaos Mia had brought into his life. But in a way, it was a welcome chaos after so long living the same existence of responsibility, duty, and control.

However, nothing could exist in chaos for long, and though they were only days from completing the FP program, a sense of impending disaster had formed in the back of his mind like heavy storm clouds. Probably because he couldn’t believe no one else besides Bren and Seb had noticed his interest in Mia, especially after his response to the Robinson incident. Apparently, his strict, duty-bound professionalism had served him well. No one had even considered the CAFF might have started an inappropriate relationship with a recruit.

Worrying now was pointless. He shook his head at himself. Standing out here, giving himself a psychoanalytical once-over wasn’t helping matters. Despite the fact that staying away was definitely the better idea, and he should concentrate all his resources on ferreting out the traitor, he had to find Mia and make sure she was okay. She’d just been through what probably amounted to the scariest hour of her life. Only the real CSS storming the base could have kept him from getting to her.

He headed for the amenities building. Some of the recruits had gone straight to the mess hall, but Mia wasn’t among them. A few had found the bunks, but she wasn’t in there either. He headed for the shower block, passing a couple of recruits, but not seeing her face in the small group.

As he rounded the last corner, Kayla stepped through the doorway of the female locker rooms. Unlike on the
Knox,
with its limited space and unisex change rooms, the base had the luxury of separate amenities.

Kayla was finger combing her short hair, but paused when she saw him. For a second, she seemed to be having some kind of internal debate, a range of emotions flashing through her gaze, chief of which appeared to be anger. He wasn’t surprised or upset about it. He’d be more astonished to find a recruit who
didn’t
hate his guts at this point.

From previous experience, he’d spend these last few days of the program receiving pissed-off glares from the recruits who hadn’t washed out. And whatever last tests or requirements he put them through would be met with more hostility.