Focus, pride, and drive were all part of the equation, each one a close cousin to failure. Every man counted on the solider next to him, and all of them relied on her to lead the charge.
Krista resumed her walk, pacing the line, while addressing her men. “We don’t know what we’ll face out there, so keep your shit wired tight. We run this by the numbers. No mistakes, gentlemen. That’s how casualties happen. Our one and only goal is to make sure everyone returns safely. And I mean everybody. The cargo is secondary. We can replace it, but not the Professor or anyone else on his team. Or ours. Am I making myself clear?”
The squad responded with another round of “Yes Ma’am,” each man sounding even more determined than a moment ago.
“All right, let’s roll out. Finish your preparations. We leave in ten. Team One, you’re on point. Take the lead vehicle. Report anything you see. Two, you’re with me. We cover the emissary vehicle. Three, you’re on cargo, while Four, you’ve got our six. Nobody opens fire without my say-so. Understood?”
Once again, the squad answered with a resounding yes, signaling their allegiance to the proud leader. The men scampered off under the watchful eyes of Krista, leaving Zimmer alone with her a few seconds later.
Zimmer let a dozen seconds of silence pass by before he spoke, allowing her headspace to clear. He knew her well enough to know she needed time to transition from commander to friend. “How did it go with Edison last night? Did he agree?”
Krista nodded. “Actually, he did, which I honestly didn’t expect. In fact, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought. I got the impression he may have already been thinking the same thing. Not sure, though.”
“Then there is hope.”
“I think your idea to change tactics and pitch our spy as only a temporary trainee is what did the trick. Thanks for the suggestion, by the way.”
“Anytime. You know I’ve got your back.”
“I hope my men feel the same way.”
“Why, is there a problem?”
“Not sure, but something’s off. I can feel it in my bones.”
“With the men or the mission?”
“Both. I’ve got a bad feeling about today. Especially with my number two missing. Wicks always seems to know what I want before I know what I want, right before the shit hits the fan. That connection is hard to replace.”
“I guess Edison didn’t agree to release him?”
“I never asked.”
“Why not? We both know Summer lied.”
“Not about everything. Wicks did cross the line and I never should’ve let that happen.”
Zimmer understood where she was coming from. It was how she was wired. “The rules are the rules.”
“Roger that.”
“I’m sure he’ll face the consequences admirably.”
“That he will. Count on it. But it still won’t make the knot in my stomach go away.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Zimmer said. “You’ve covered these meets countless times before and never a scratch.”
“I hope you’re right,” Krista said, shaking Zimmer’s hand with a powerful grasp.
Zimmer squeezed hers in kind. “But keep your head down, just in case. Nirvana can’t function without its most valuable asset.”
“Appreciate it, buddy,” she said, releasing her grip. She turned and walked away, taking the same path as her squad.
“Godspeed,” Zimmer said, wondering if she’d take his advice. Especially today.
Sketch finished working the only barrel of fuel into Frost’s biggest transport, scooting it next to the other cargo. Normally, he’d load at least six fifty-gallon drums, but since the refinery was out, he assumed that drum was all they could spare.
He wasn’t sure if Edison was aware of the supply shortage, but it wasn’t his place to question. His job was to load the cargo and keep his mouth shut. Yet it didn’t stop him from pondering the facts. No law against that.
If Edison didn’t know about the refinery, then it would explain the extra containers stacked about. Frost needed something else to trade besides fuel.
Each carton was cold to the touch. He assumed snow was keeping their contents refrigerated, but that was the extent of his knowledge.
Yet he wasn’t surprised. Not in the least. Everyone in camp knew that Frost kept the details of the exchange to himself. Even his second-in-command wasn’t told. Fletcher never seemed to mind; at least, he never gave any indication of that being the case.
Sketch hopped down from the back of the truck, his feet landing on the concrete in a plop.
After he straightened up, his eyes locked on to those of Simon Frost as the towering man walked through the loading area. Sergeant Barkley was two steps behind, with his chain collar clinking, as was Fletcher.
Sketch took in a breath and held it while the dog sniffed at his leg during the leadership team’s collective flyby, but the mangy dog didn’t show any teeth.
He let his breath out ten seconds later when the mutt continued on, feeling fortunate. That’s when a hand landed on his shoulder from behind, making him flinch.
“That mongrel had you worried there for a moment, didn’t he?” Dice asked.
“You got that right, brother. All I could think about was what that dog did to Horton’s leg. Thought I was next.”
“They can sense things. You weren’t a threat.”
“Neither was Horton, that poor son of a bitch. I hope he didn’t suffer too long out there.”
“Depends on how he went out. Hopefully the cold got him, not the Scabs. That’s no way for a warrior to die. Not like that.”
Sketch shook his head, seeing a visual of Horton in his head. It was all about snarls, teeth, and body parts coming apart in a blood-filled rage.
He knew that eventually he’d fuck up somewhere along the way and find himself labeled a failure. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re backing the wrong horse.”
“Me too. But we had to choose a side. It was either Frost and his guns or Edison and his green beans. Not much of a choice, if you ask me.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“We made the right call, Sketch. Nobody can survive out there alone. Not anymore. In the end, it’s always best to be on the side with the superior numbers and firepower. At that we are, my friend. It’s not even close.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Edison’s love thy neighbor bullshit would have driven me crazy.”
“And then some. That kumbaya crap is for pussies.”
Sketch smiled, remembering an old phrase from his drill sergeant in the Army. “Moderation is for cowards.”
Dice didn’t hesitate with his response, the two of them sharing this same camaraderie many times in the past. “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.”
Sketch smiled in appreciation of his friend’s loyalty. “I just don’t get why Frost lets those assholes dictate terms like they do. It seems like Edison always gets his way.”
“It’s all part of the treaty. You weren’t here before we struck that deal. Both sides took a ton of casualties in the early days. Neither side would have survived if we hadn’t come up with a way to co-exist. Our ranks were fixed in number back then. Not like they are now with new bodies showing up after the thaw started.”
“Still, it seems like Frost has a soft spot for Edison.”
“Or maybe it’s Fletcher who takes it easy on the professor,” Dice said. “We aren’t part of those command decisions.”
“Probably a good thing. If we knew what was really going on, it might be even harder to sleep at night.”
“That’s what the booze is for,” Dice said, laughing. “But seriously, if it weren’t for the treaty, the Trading Post never would have been created.”
“Who picked Heston to run it?”
“Edison. He knew the old rancher would be impartial and fair. Without it, both sides would have never made it this far. We need that safe space. It helps keep the peace.”