(S) Fallout: Tactical Upload

New York, 2016, 1700hrs;
Beta Dome; Debrief room.
“So you’re saying that you DON’T KNOW what happened? Is that it?” demanded the officer.

Colonel Lincoln was a hard, hard man. Brought up living in poverty, he managed to fight and work his way into the military. He wore a well-decorated uniform of the US Command Corps. , the tactical genius housed within his mind ensured a peripatetic rise to the top brass in just 7 years. His close-cropped hair of stunning blonde showed streaks of grey and although his forehead was creased in wrinkles, his brown-streaked eyes, so full of life and youth, told otherwise.

Opposite him, were two seated soldiers, one had his hands cupped and rested on the metal table between the Colonel and himself, another kept them by his sides.

“Well...yes sir, I’m not too sure of it myself, the whole thing was just ... Pow, whish.” Gesturing vaguely with his hands as he finished his sentence. He had eyes of midnight black and a crew cut of wavy black hair. His face was unblemished and angular; the almost-sharp nose completed his features, giving one the impression of looking at a majestic hawk. The dog-tags around his tanned neck read: Lance Corporal Jinks.

“You expect me to believe this bull-crap that for all I know could have been fabricated by a 5-year old watching two butterflies fornicating on his sorry-excuse for a lollipop!” yelled the Colonel, slamming his fists down upon the metal table. The ringing resonated around the closed room.

“Sir, even I don’t really know what happened! We were greatly outnumbered by USSR soldiers and the fog made it difficult to discern our situation! The fact that our tanks had been EMP-ed dint help much with the situation.” Cut in the other soldier. He had emerald-green eyes and exuded an aura of control and calm. One could not lie to these kind of people, even if one wasn’t compelled to tell the truth. His hair too, was close-cropped, sporting firm auburn hair. His dog-tag identified him as: Sergeant Maxell.

“Well that’s all well and fine. But please cut the horse-dung and get to the point of HOW we lost our Gene-Mod damnit! Can you explain why 4th squad sighted an explosion at your location when they were on their way over? Why was the Mobile Vehicle that housed the Gene-Mod blown up?! Are you two traitors, cause I sure as hell smell something fishy!”

“Well, in all honesty, the explosion surprised us just as much as you might have been and maybe even more, it just....happened sir, like...Pow, whish.” Again Jinx gestured with those vague actions, his voice trailing off towards the end of his sentence.

Seeing that the Colonel was not taken in, he tried a different tact.

“I swear sir, we did our best to protect the cargo! We lost 5 men protecting it-and excuse my language-, but damnit sir, do you think we’d go to the trouble of doing all that just to double-cross the US? I lost my family to the damned USSR for god’s sake!”

Then it was Maxell’s turn to placate the Colonel, he had as much progress as throwing a sponge into a swelling river, in hopes of preventing a flood.

Seeing that he was not going to get anything out of the two officers, Colonel Lincoln turned and paced to the end of the room, his backs to them. His mind was already racing to piece things together, running over their every word and body posture.

“Recovery team could not find any trace of the Gene-Mod nor the container that held it. Do you know that the Gene-Mod was the only sample that the research team at Gamma could produce? It was en route to Beta for mass production damnit. However, do I have your confirmation that the Gene-Mod has not fallen into the enemy’s hands?”

“Affirmative.”

“Right as rain, sir.”

Their voices rang out in unison as they felt the omnipresent stress-machine was going to stop breathing down their necks.

“Then I can guess that not all is as bad as it seems. This incident shall be marked down as a disappointing turn of events, yet we are glad that the USSR does not have it. That’s it then. You’re dismissed, Lance Corporal Jinks, please stay back for awhile.”

The sound of booted feet echoed throughout the room as Maxell walked to the door, stopped, waited for it to slide open and then left the room. The sliding door slid shut, the hydraulic pistons hissing behind hidden compartments.

“So Lance Corporal Jinx, I guess a commendation is in order for you and your squad. Under the immense duress that you and your men may have faced, I am impressed that you managed to pull off the rescue. It has come to my knowledge that you even took down a large number of enemy soldiers in the midnight skirmish.”

“More than you’ll ever know.” thought Jinx.

“ Congratulations. You and your men will be awarded the Lion’s Mane for your bravery and unwavering support in combat.”

“Thank you sir!” saluted Jinx.

He lowered his hand and turned to leave the room. As the doors slid open, Colonel Lincoln called out.

“One more thing Jinks. Do you have a name for you and your men?”

“Yes sir,” grinned Jinx. “We’re called the Skull squadron”

“Good. Effective from now, you’ll be serving in the Special Ops department. Dismissed.”

The doors closed shut.

Outside, Maxell was waiting for him. He was leaning against the wall of the corridor that overlooked the lush garden on the first floor. Large-paned windows that were slanted outwards from the bottom up, lined the other side of the corridor and carried on in a fashion till they circled back, joining in a wide square to overlook the garden.

“That went moderately well dint it Lance Corporal?” he asked, pushing against the wall when Jinx stepped out. They fell in step together and paced down the corridor.

“I’d say that was brilliant, what with all that hand gesturing and all.” he joked.

“And, seeing that we’re off duty at the moment, how bout we drop the titles for a lil’ while?”

“Sounds good to me.” acquiesced Maxell.

“And how bout a drink? I seem to recall them being on you the last time i checked.” teased Jinx.

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Maxell nodded in reply.

“Sure why not, call down your squad while you’re at it would you? I seem to have too much money to spend nowadays.” said Maxell, dryly.

With a wink, Jinx reached into his uniform breast pocket and produced a mobile phone and was already dialling into it.

“Hey, I was just kidding damnit. Gah fine, fine, call them down. And just curious, they never introduced themselves, what are their names?”

“Oh my men?” he asked, head tilted as he wedged his mobile against his shoulder. “They’re Kasper Luzterg, Brad Forst and Gabriel Hunter. The ones that are alive anyhow.”

“And I’m Jinks Weathers. But you can call me Jinx.”