Third Person - Complete

At Fault

"Well, now what, genius?" Watkins asked Roberts, taking a half dozen slow steps back.

Roberts stared at the cliff that dropped away in front of them. Just looking over the edge made Roberts dizzy. It dropped so far that the trees looked tiny at the bottom. Roberts stepped back slowly, carefully,  backing through the brush.

"So, you almost led us straight off a thousand foot cliff? Fucking nice," Nguyen sneered, staying back from the edge. She looked around. "Man, this mountain is a goddamn death trap."

"I don't see you with any better ideas," Roberts snapped, turning around and walking toward the redheaded girl.

"What?" She drew herself up. "No better ideas? You've been leading us northeast, into the Fulda Gap, toward Russian territory. You damn near led us off a cliff, and to top it off, the only thing on this side of the mountain is the Group secure area. I've been telling you for two hours that we're going the wrong way."

"Look, I'm in charge," Roberts said, tapping his collar again. "We'll go," Roberts was feeling desperate and pointed back away from the cliff. "That way."

"So, we'll go due north. Yeah, there's nothing there. The 1K Zone is at the bottom of the east side of the goddamn mountain! Didn't you pay attention in class?" Watkins asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Roberts asked, feeling his temper fray. Nguyen had been questioning every one of his decisions the entire time he had been trying to lead them somewhere safe.

"They showed us overhead maps of this region," Watkins said, shaking his head. "This mountain isn't that far from the Gap, and the Soviet Union maintains guard sites across the 1K Zone from the mountain."

"I think we're a little ways away from the 1K Zone," Roberts said, somewhat sulkily. He pointed at the cliff. "There appears to be a big-ass cliff between us and the Russians."

"Um, guys?" Nguyen called out.

Roberts looked over, she was knelt down at the edge of the woodline.

"What?" Roberts snapped.

"Come look at this," She said, waving them over.

Roberts noticed that the others hustled over there, so he took his time getting there to silently let her know that he was still in charge.

"What is that?" Private Cooper asked, pushing the rim of his helmet back to get a better look.

"Wolf track," Nguyen said, looking at Cooper's dark face.

Roberts snorted. "So?"

"OK, a normal wolf has a pad print is about six inches long and five inches wide, right?" Nguyen's tone, like she was superior and Roberts was a child, annoyed Roberts. "A wolf's hind feet leave smaller tracks, right?"

"I'll take your word for it. I grew up in Brooklyn," Private Murry said.

"All right, now, any of you know how big your hand is from the base of the palm to the tip of the middle finger?" Nguyen asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

"Why would we?" Cooper asked.

"Maybe it's a Scout thing," Nguyen shrugged. "We measured our hands and feet so we could basically do field expedient measurement."

"How big are yours?" Murry asked.

"Five inches, my thumb's kinda long with an inch from the tip to the first knuckle or six inches from the top of my thumb to the tip of my pinkie if I spread out my fingers and tilt my wrist. My foot is nine inches long," Nguyen shrugged.