Adventures of a Drunkard Pilot

Chapter 5: How Nightmares Start

I made it down the hallway and around the corner before I was tackled by some MPs and dragged back to the medical bay. The exams went by quickly and with lots of complaining, but there was a somber mood in the room. I looked at Arthur and Mitchell and noticed they had picked up on it too.

"So, what's wrong?" I asked as I pulled my boxers back on and grabbed the clothes that had been dropped off for us.

"Huh?" Cameron responded. She pushed a piece of hair out of her face. "What do you mean?"

"Nice try," Arthur said, "but that's your tell."

"My tell?" she looked confused but also like she was fighting back emotion.

"Your tell," Mitchell joined in, "Like in poker. Your tell is something that shows when you're lying."

"Huh?" she tried feigning ignorance, but the attempt was pretty bad.

"You've done it every time you tried lying to us." I said, buckling the leather belt to keep the jeans up. "So, I'll ask again, what's wrong?"

She looked like she was going to try to keep the lie alive, but changed her mind. "We got some bad news from the Fronts."

"Fronts?" we all asked back.

"The Fronts. They're the battlefields against the Legion and New Monarchy. The Legion has control of South America, Africa, and from Mexico south. We hold them at the Alamo Front." She stood up from her chair and set her clipboard down on the table. "New Monarchy has Asia, Africa, and most parts of Europe under wraps, and we hold them at the Munich Front." She walked to the door and motioned for us to follow.

"So what's the news?" Arthur asked as we walked into the hallway and started toward the brief room.

"Well, the Alamo is turning into a bloodbath. Our forces don't have Frames, so it's like mice versus a tiger."

"No Frames?" I asked.

"Correct, we can only use ground troops against them," Cameron answered, "We have old Abrams tanks and anti-armor munitions, but it takes too much to take down one Legion Frame."

"What about Munich?" Mitchell asked as we came up to the code-locked door.

"Well, Munich is all but rubble," Cameron stopped before entering her code and turned to us. "Monarchy rolled their own tanks into the Front and hit us harder then we're ever been hit. We pushed them back, but both sides know that the next attack is going to break through." She reached to key in the code.

"Wait!" the three of us shouted. Cameron jumped and turned back to us.

"What is it?" she asked, now sounding more pissed off than before.

"Are they in there?" Mitchell asked.

Cameron just looked at him for a few seconds like he was an idiot. "Yes," she said finally, "your trainees are in there."

"Then can we go change?" I asked. "We only have.... These." I motioned to the jeans and undershirt I was sporting, then to the same that was on the other guys. "Your guys grabbed clothes from the laundry room, not our stuff."

"Besides, it would be nice to get the rest of our gear first," Arthur butted in, "You know, for educational purposes." He looked at Mitchell and me for support, but only got a glare from Cameron in return.

"You guys have 5 minutes to change. If you're not back here by then," Cameron drew her finger across her throat.

"Yeah, got it, thanks!" I yelled as we took off down the hall. We ran down the hall and around a few corners. Mitchell accidentally tackled an analyst, and I clotheslined some poor bastard, but we reached our room in no time. I dragged my clothes bag out from under my cot and tore it open. I grabbed a pair of black socks, a red shirt with a royal flush on the front, and a pair of woodland camo pants.