Dragon

[DerVVulfman]

Chapter Twenty Three
Emerson

The VSO troops were assembled. “Is this everybody?” asked the General from his podium. “Where’s Roberts?”

Hunt answered “We haven’t come across him yet. He must be between decks 11 and 14, I’m guessing. But everybody else is here, sir.”

“Allrightey, then,” said the General. “May I have everyone’s full attention, please. Doctor Roberts is gonna be charged with unlawful and illegal private usage of VSO property-- Rebecca Fox-- for nefarious purposes and unrestrained mayhem, and all that. You know what I mean. I want Roberts found and put in the clink. I want him in the hoosegow by the time it takes me to finish this cigar. Plus...” he paused for emphasis, “The Fox broad’s gotta be terminated... immediately.”

Hunt didn’t expect this. His head pivoted in the general’s direction. He was not altogether hiding his surprise. Finally, he asked “Are you... certain, General?” The other soldiers looked at each other, mostly shocked but quiet.

“Hell, yes I’m certain! She’s been compromised by being on this unauthorized shindig of the Doc’s! Who know what else Roberts has done to her? Besides, there’s been a hell of a lot of misbehavior on her part lately! She burned her whole @#$%ing room up! She’s beyond the bend! As far as I’m concerned, she’s too dangerous to keep around. She’s terminated. Got it?”

The sergeant was very quiet. As the general was speaking, Hunt slowly, subtly moved from one end of the room to the exit, passing between many of the soldiers on the way out. Most of the men took no notice of it.

But the General did-- ten seconds after Hunt was gone. “Where’d he go?”

Private Emerson, his arm in a medical sling, replied “Most likely he’s gone to shower off the shit you just dumped us all with, sir.”

The room suddenly got totally quiet. The General leaned forward at his podium. “What the @#$% did you just say to me, Private?”

Emerson didn’t back off. “I think Sgt. Hunt just quit the VSO. And I don’t blame him one bit.”

The General exploded with laughter. “What’re you talking about? Did you guys just hear my orders or not?” His laughter halted.

“Up yours, General,” Emerson said, cradling his taser. “I’m not going to kill an eighteen-year-old girl. Foxy saved my life the other day.”

“WHO GIVES A SHIT?!? I GAVE YOU AN ORDER!!!” The General pounded his podium. “Or do I have to go down there and ram them orders down your throat,” he snarled, pointing the cigar at Emerson like a weapon.

“Come on, then! Come down here!” Emerson taunted. “I’ll fry as much o’ your butt as I can reach! I’m a private citizen now! @#$% the VSO! C’mon guys, help me out for God’s sake! You guys don’t want Foxy dead any more than I do!”

The General was livid, but he didn’t have the guts to call Emerson’s bluff. “HEY! I’M IN CHARGE HERE, PRIVATE!” He didn’t move forward. You’re not quitting just because you don’t like my orders! Now KILL the bitch and arrest the doc! ALL OF YOU!!!”

“SHE’S EIGHTEEN, MAN!” Emerson shouted. “GUYS! WHO WANTS FOXY TO LIVE! RAISE YOUR @#$%ING HANDS AND RESIGN RIGHT NOW!”

One of the soldiers finally raised his hand. So did Emerson. “IS THAT IT?!?” the private shouted. “HAVE Y’ALL NO SHAME! RAISE YOUR HANDS!!!”

A third soldier raised his hand. Then two more. “I quit,” said the sixth, and raised his hand. Four more. Then it became ten raised hands in protest of the General. Eleven. Twelve. Three soldiers were still on the fence. “ARE YOU GUYS @#$%ING RETARDED?” Emerson shouted. NOW it was fifteen.

“You’ll pay for this,” warned the General impotently. “This is @#$%in’ MUTINY!”

“Wrong again, lardbutt. This is desertion! We’re not taking over, we’re quitting!” Emerson walked past the other soldiers. “We’re just gonna land this floating sucker so we can be on our way.” The General, still simmering, remained standing behind his podium. “If you want to terminate Foxy, DO IT YOURSELF! She’ll broil you alive and make jumbo chicken! Bet your life on it!”

Emerson moved into the C&C to land the hovercraft while the others warily guarded the General. Three minutes later, the immense VSO craft was on the ground. Fifteen ex-soldiers disembarked without even looking back at their superior officer. They had vanished.

How the hell do I lift off this thing? the General tried to recall.

? ? ?

I’m right back where I started, Becky thought, only worse! She had no pen or paper, no decent way to communicate. She was still in the huge military lab, which had only one small exit. There were assorted small fires in the chamber, but they were dying. Becky stood in the far corner of the room, diagonally opposite the exit, feeling more despondent than ever. What am I going to do? Why couldn’t I at least still be able to talk? What’s going to happen tomorrow? God, get me OUT of this SOMEHOW! Please--

Two hundred feet away from her, the exit door opened. The figure entered, then clicked the door shut with a heavy CLANK. She thought it was Roberts, because the man was wearing his metallic asbestos bodysuit. Now what does he want from me? she thought. Another stupid temperature-test? Why now?

The man took a couple of steps forward, adjusting his radio suit speaker.

“Fox,” said Sgt. Kevin Hunt, “I’m sorry about everything... everything you’ve had to go through...” Poor kid. She looks more miserable than ever, he thought. “... including this.”

That’s Kevin? Including ‘this’? Becky thought in a mad mental jumble. If that’s not the doc, why would Kevin have the suit on unless h-he came to--

“But I’ve got my orders, dammit.” The sergeant moved forward more rapidly. It was then that Becky noticed the seven-inch military knives in both of his gloved hands. Roberts had been right about Hunt one-hundred percent.