Rule of Four (Damned of the 2/19th Novella)

Target Identified

Everything you know is wrong
-Weird Al Yankovic

Barracks Area
2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area
Alfenwehr, West Germany
23 November, 1988
0100
Day One of the Nov 88 Incident

I moved around the CQ counter.

thump step drag

everyone knows boots cost money

Both of the other men stared at me. One with the shield and eagle of Specialist on his lapels to replace the rank he'd lost plowing underage pussy, the other a Staff Sergeant who had gotten three of his men killed and was given the choice between 2/19th and prison.

They had names, but so did those poor bastards I'd slaughtered in these very barracks.

I glanced at the Pv2 and noticed he had an expression on his face that would fit in at a poker table. Carefully neutral, showing nothing of his thoughts or emotions.

he could sense it too

"Where the fuck have  you two assholes been?" The Specialist asked, his tone demanding and surly.

I stepped up on him and stared down at him. "Maybe you'd like a smack in the mouth to remind you that you're a low ranking scumbag who fucks kids."

He flushed and opened his mouth to answer and I pulled my hand back.

"Sergeant!" The E-6 snapped.

I dropped my hand down, turning to face him. "We got the power restored, Sergeant," I said slowly, not letting the Specialist out of my field of vision.

The Specialist frowned. "I thought we got power from main post through buried cables," he said, "A blizzard wouldn't knock that out."

I shook my head. "The dedicated V Corps line is an armored underground cable that's EMP shielded, and every year so far it's failed."

The Staff Sergeant leaned back in the chair, the metal back legs groaning slightly, and he laced his fingers behind his neck. "Specialist, when it gets as cold as it does here on Alfenwehr, anything is subject to the effects of ice and sub-zero temperatures."

I nodded as I moved over to a chair, removing my field jacket and hanging it from the back of the chair.

everyone knows boots cost money

"We fired up the generators, Sergeant," the Private said slowly as I sat down, sticking my leg straight out in front of me and sighing.

"How long will they last, Sergeant?" The Staff Sergeant asked me.

I pulled the wrench out of my breast pocket and started working on the brace. "We've got enough fuel to run till May if we have to, but it won't take that long."

"For what?" The Specialist sneered. He hadn't forgotten that I'd seen the fear in his eyes.

"Listen close and you can hear it," I said softly, winding the tension spring.

It went silent, only the clicking of the spool as I wound it.

From somewhere far away outside a woman screamed, loud and long, her voice filled with unspeakable agony, the sounds coming from the airlock doors. Beyond the airlock, the lights at the end of the walk were flickering. Bright, dim, bright, dim, each time it brightened just slightly dimmer than before, each time it dimmed, taking slightly longer to brighten again. The scream faded into choking sobs and when they ended the lights just beyond the steps that led down from the airlock porch flickered and went out in a shower of sparks. A voice shouted in German and boots crashed to the floor above us. We could hear someone walking back and forth and almost make out what they were saying.