Cold Warriors Read online

  She hopped out of bed and ran to the showers. As she pondered her situation, she wondered if it could get any more complicated. Not only was she being sent off to war, there was her growing attraction to a man who seemed worlds apart from her. All of it was too maddening for words. She gripped the handles of the faucet. “Water allotment ending now,” the computer's voice echoed in the shower stall.

  All sorts of emotions ran through her. She felt like a teenager with a crush and a jilted wife all at the same time. She loved a man. “A memory of a man,” she shook her head, feeling a fresh round of tears welling within her.

  And then there was Colonel Keegan. With him, things were different. He saw her not as a cryo or a soldier, but as a woman. That was a nice feeling, something she hadn't felt since she awoke.

  Caitlin shook her head. “Dream the impossible dream."

  * * * *

  "Sir. You wanted to see me?” Caitlin asked leaning against the doorpost. The pseudo-skin on her arms and hands adhered to the jam-like sticky glue. Although he was a Major in the Marines and was not big on military custom, she still afforded him the respect by remaining outside his door.

  "Oh, yes, come on in.” He smiled pleasantly. “I was just taking advantage of the quiet time to catch up on some work."

  "Where is everybody?"

  "On shore leave or on work detail I suppose."

  "Shore leave?"

  "Yes. We put in early this morning."

  I oversleep by an hour and it's like I missed half the day. “You wanted to see me?"

  "We have much work to do."

  * * * *

  Caitlin lay on the gurney, trying her best to relax. Several sensors attached to her chest, legs and arms measured her heart rate, pulse, core temperature and other vitals.

  "What are you going to do?” She glanced at the monitor. Her heart rate was 60 bpm and her core temperature was 90.

  "Just relax...” The doctor injected her with a cool liquid.

  She could feel the typical sensation of euphoria overtaking her mind. Her heart rate began to fall as well as her body temperature.

  "How do you feel?” His voice sounded distant and muffled as her mind swam.

  She smiled, “Good."

  "Just relax."

  Caitlin closed her eyes. A mild tingling sensation crawled up the nerves of her legs and arms.

  "I'm going to give you a little shot. You will feel a mild discomfort."

  His voice faded into a background of sounds filled with laughter followed by memories of a life long ago...

  Next thing she knew, she awakened, covered in sweat with the Dr. Bishop staring at her. He dabbed her sweaty brow with a towel.

  Feeling fully rested and relaxed, she turned to ask him what he had given her. She noticed a woman with blonde hair pulled back into tight bun wearing a uniform as stark as her expression.

  "Who are you?"

  "A friend,” the woman answered.

  Caitlin read her name tag ... it read Rizard. Bishop looked at the woman and nodded.

  "As soon as you feel up to it, you can leave.” He patted Caitlin on the shoulder and walked away.

  * * * *

  A mid-afternoon roll in the hay was rare for Max, and one that took place on the Blanchard was even rarer. But whenever they pulled into port, there was more time for the rarities of life.

  Max wrapped his arms around the woman he had come to know as Jeanine. Her long blond hair was unpinned and flowing over her shoulders. She and Max lay on his bed, in a taut embrace kissing each other.

  It has been too long, he thought.

  He'd been with many women before, but never a woman from Special Warfare. He wanted to see what was underneath the uniform. It turned out, more of the same.

  She had come on to him not long after the debriefing. He admitted he was interested but had not really considered it before. She said she was a no nonsense woman who knew what she wanted. It sounded good to him.

  "I sure can go for a cigarette."

  "Oh you like to smoke afterwards?” she purred leaning forward to kiss him hungrily.

  "No, I just like to smoke.” He got up out of bed and checked his desk drawer. He pulled out a crumpled pack and searched inside. He found a lone cigarette partially smoked and crumpled. He lit it, “I'm trying to quit but it's looking like it's not going to take."

  "Try the injections, I'm sure the doc's got some—"

  "Honey, the infirmary is for sick people. I ain't sick."

  She shook her head and smiled. “All right, I got it. What's going on?"

  He sat on the edge of the bed and took a long drag. He blew out the smoke, feeling the remaining tension flow out of him as he exhaled. “Nothing."

  "Ah, huh.” She sat forward bending her knees and pulling them to her chest. The soft blanket covered most of her form, making her look delicate and quite feminine. “Is this getting to be too deep? Cause, I'm not—"

  He rolled his eyes and snorted. “Don't ruin the moment honey. It's just a cigarette."

  "That's it. I am out of here."

  He gently placed his giant palm onto her chest, “You don't have to go. Stay. We've got some time."

  She looked down coyly, “Okay."

  "I hear we should be here for another day or two..."

  "Not me. I have to be getting back. Since your cryos tried to set the place on fire, plans had to be pushed forward,” she smirked.

  "Ha ha.” He made a mocking gesture.

  Jeanine raked the snarls out of her hair. “It's odd really. Most are more subdued than this bunch."

  He snorted in disbelief, finishing the last of his cigarette. “That's a first.” He crushed the butt in a makeshift ashtray on his desk.

  He immediately wanted another. It was actually better than the sex.

  "There is so much potential in this field. The doors are opening wide in Special Ops. We're all very excited. With the findings from Bishop and others like him, things are looking up in Special Warfare."

  "Only if it ends the war,” he commented.

  She was starting to annoy him. He saw his kids dying on missions all the time. He even saw their faces in his sleep. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of how great the war was going.

  She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean. Just think, a new class of operators, impervious to the cold. Able to go into a long biostasis and be ready at a moment's notice to fight."

  "Sounds like robots to me."

  "Better. Artificial intelligence has yet to come close to the realm of the human mind. Sure, the Wacians have helped little, but they're holding us back. This we can do on our own. Ever since Russell Broderick told the Vernean's to go to Hell, it was the best thing he ever did for our planet. It got us thinking on our own again. It knocked the complacency out of us."

  "Have you ever been out on the field?"

  "I've trained extensively in the field."

  "Are you an experienced operator?” He turned around and peered at her.

  She remained silent. It told the CAG everything he wanted to know. More high and mighty talk from people who have never been on the working end of rifle before.

  "We are doing this so no one will have to go out there again."

  "Except for the frozen assholes."

  "Oh, what do you care anyways? You have no love for them."

  She was correct. He didn't, but he noticed his friend, Medoro, did.

  "Poor bastards, most of them are on a one way trip.” She arched her eyebrow and let the covers slip away exposing her breasts.

  "Yep, poor bastards.” He decided they had done enough talking. He planted a big wet kiss squarely on her lips. She accepted it hungrily.

  Chapter Eleven

  Caitlin stood at the window on the observation deck facing the space dock. The Blanchard's aft blast shields were open, allowing a spectacular view of the space station where the ship was docked. Fancy space ships like silver bullets flew between the station and the nearby planet. She glanc
ed around the lush interior of the officer's lounge. Plush chairs, overstuffed sofas, and small round tables dotted the room. It made for a very cozy and homey atmosphere.

  Dr. Bishop personally escorted her there. He acted like a guilty man, but for what, she didn't know. At this point she didn't care. There were other things to consider.

  The door opened with a swoosh. Colonel Keegan walked in, engrossed in a book while sipping steaming liquid from his mug. He walked by her, taking a seat in one of the chairs that faced the center of the room.

  She returned her attention to the scenery outside. She pushed the feelings bubbling inside of her aside. She wanted to just enjoy the view.

  "Ms. Driskoll who let you in here?"

  She heard his footsteps approaching. She could even smell the remnants of chicken soup wafting around him. She turned around slowly. “Sir, Dr. Bishop escorted me here."

  Keegan frowned and stared at her. “Are you feeling all right?"

  "I'm fine, Sir. Why?"

  "Sir?"

  She stared at the patch of the American flag on his shoulder. Her eyes moved to the emblem of the Corps. Suddenly a she felt loyalty to him and all that he represented.

  "Yes, Sir."

  "How are your hands?"

  She held them up. The pseudo-skin was yellow and faded. “I'm healing in record time. He says I should be ready to go by tomorrow."

  He nodded and pointed to the scenery out the window. “That's Carinae Space Station and the planet is Fornax."

  "It's beautiful. Have you been there before?"

  "More times than I care to remember. It's overcrowded and very commercialized, I prefer the ship.” He walked back to his seat and sat down.

  She followed him and sat across from him. “It's all so unreal; like watching a movie."

  He smirked and shook his head. “Oh, it's very real.” He sipped the steaming soup.

  "About yesterday...” she began.

  He shifted uncomfortably and placed the mug on the table.

  "I think we ought to—"

  He held up his hand. “Ms. Driskoll, I apologize for acting inappropriately. I didn't mean to offend you in any way."

  Stumped, she jerked her head back. “Oh...” she said her shoulders slumping, “I ... oh."

  Embarrassed, Caitlin stood up. Her feelings were anything but offended. He peered at her steadily like he was inspecting a freshly made bed. “Well, I guess I should be going."

  She left as quickly as she could without running. She had no idea where she was headed, but any place was better than standing in front of him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Planet Eridani ... Subzero Training Facility

  The morning light barely penetrated the deep cloud cover. What light that did manage to seep through, only illuminated a gloomy landscape of scrub plants, short bushes and dirt. Caitlin's boots cracked the cold sandy soil, causing dust clouds to rise in the air. She and the rest of the cryos shoved their hands in their pockets keeping their eyes affixed to the ground.

  Eradani was as cold as it was desolate. It looked lonely. It felt lonely. It was a small planet just inside the protected zone with a hastily constructed military base that contained a cantina, barracks and a few buildings, which she and the cryos were forbidden to enter. Guards were scattered across the compound carrying rifles that they were apparently not afraid to use. They, along with the landscape and electrified fencing made the place seem more like a prison camp than a training base.

  She figured they were either trying to keep her and the cryos in, or the harsh landscape out. Either way it wasn't working. Since she'd awakened there had been two escapes. Of course they didn't get very far, but there's something to be said for trying.

  The reality of her new life sank into place. She was unofficially a soldier in the Marines, officially speaking. She closed her eyes tightly keeping back the tears. This was it, either sink or swim. She could no longer sit on the sidelines and hope for the best.

  A cold wind whipped around her face interrupting her thoughts.

  "Why in the Hell are we here?” a woman next to her griped.

  Chief Petty Officer Watkins looked up from her conversation with a member of her staff. Her breath curled in front of her face briefly blocking her curious expression. She walked over to the woman and stopped in front of her. The chief examined the faded number tag stitched to the cryo's jacket. Chief Watkins entered the number into her mini-computer and checked the information quickly and stepped away from the woman who stared at her smugly.

  "2-4-6-0, to whom are you referring?” the chief asked. She lifted her arms out in a grand gesture. “I know why I am here. Petty Officer Graham knows why he's here. Don't ya Graham?"

  Graham nodded his head, “Yes, Chief."

  Watkins pointed at the cryo. “And I know why you are here. So which we, were you referring to?"

  2460 shifted her wait uncomfortably.

  "2-4-6-0 or shall I say Carol?” The Chief moved in closer, “You never answered my question. Perhaps the we you were referring to was yourself, as in the distinctive third person like the royal families of Europe. In any case, let me inform you Carol, because you may or may not have been conscious during the decision making process..."

  Caitlin winced at that biting comment.

  Chief Watkins moved in closer, only inches away from Carol, while speaking at the same volume, “The records reflect a distinct decision made by two parties for your immediate storage and biostasis, apparently, by one Jaime Ortega and a Carol Ortega. Oh, wait, that's you. So either you forgot,” she bumped her hat brim against the cryo's forehead, “that you agreed to put yourself in cold storage, or yet again, you were being cryptic and thought this was philosophy class. Which is it?"

  She locked eyes with Carol. Carol held the chief's stare for as long as she could and then looked away. Chief Watkins stepped back.

  "Now that I've enlightened 2-4-6-0, let me enlighten the rest of you in case you were wondering..."

  Watkins eyed the group and clenched her jaw. “You are here to train for the use and procurement of basic weaponry and to learn fundamental cold weather survival techniques that will give you a chance of continuing to live on borrowed time. Afterwards, you will be reassigned back into the fleet to await further orders."

  Petty Officer Graham approached Chief Watkins and stood next to her. His serious expression peered off into the distance causing the group to squirm even more.

  Watkins motioned to herself and Graham. “I am your recruit division commander, Chief Petty Officer Watkins, and this is Petty Officer Graham. When you address us, do so as Chief Watkins and Petty Officer Graham respectively. Do not call us, Sir. I repeat, do not call us, Sir. We have stripes not bars."

  * * * *

  The recruit held his weapon stiffly in front of him with arms outstretched.

  Petty Officer Graham took the weapon from him and held it like a man who was born with it. “This weapon is never to leave your hands. If it is out of your hands you are either dead or you have lost your hands. You will learn to love and trust this weapon. It is a modified M-14D rifle. It can be used as a sniper rifle or as individual battle rifle in the field. It can cut through brush, make a shot over 800 yards in high winds and can cut through most metal sheet plating; it can even go through walls and glass. It is especially useful in artic warfare. Wherever this weapon goes so will you!"

  He tossed the weapon back to the recruit who caught it awkwardly before dropping it.

  "Follow it down recruit!” Graham's gloved finger pointed towards the sandy earth.

  He obeyed promptly.

  "This weapon goes down, so do you! On the ground all of you now!"

  They laid face down on the cold ground with their weapons beside them. Immediately the ground began drawing the heat from their bodies. Dried plant matter rubbed against the exposed parts of Caitlin's skin causing it to itch. She resisted the urge to scratch. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths allowing her body
to relax. Soon her mind wandered off the barren landscape of Eridani to a faraway place. Before she knew it, she was back on the Blanchard walking through its narrow corridors performing the duties she had become used to over the past three months.

  Sailors in their white duty uniforms and officers in their brown duty wear walked by barely noticing her. Caitlin continued pushing the laundry cart moving below deck toward mid-ship. The mini hovercart's batteries’ quiet hum sounded like an old friend welcoming her home. Her heart quickened as she neared her destination. Caitlin tried calming herself as she turned the corner and saw the hatch to the mid-ship maintenance room.

  Caitlin stopped at the door and adjusted her ponytail and clothes. She took a deep breath and opened the door. She followed the laundry cart inside the 10 by 11 room noticing the stale air instantly.

  "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show,” a deep raspy voice stated behind her.

  She smiled and turned around facing Col. Medoro Keegan. He stood a few feet away from her near the door wearing a light green flight suit and a concerned expression. He pursed his thin lips while the muscles in his jaw tensed.

  Caitlin moved toward him. Her heart beat faster with each step. She licked her full lips and swallowed, “I thought this day would never end."

  His blue eyes never left her face as he approached her. “It's over now,” he said pulling her to him, parting his lips, allowing his tongue to probe the inner reaches of her hungry mouth.

  Caitlin gave herself fully to him, aggressively tasting every bit of him, wanting more and more. Panting and sucking sounds echoed off the walls and landed on the embracing lovers.

  Keegan's muscular grip tightened, picking her up and moving her toward the wall. Suddenly she heard voices in the hall nearing the hatch. She pulled away. “We've got to stop, someone is coming."

  Keegan continued kissing her, ignoring her words.

  Caitlin kissed him once more and then moved away. “My love, I've got to go."

  "No. Stay with me,” he said inches away from her.

  Caitlin looked at the door. “I want you, but someone is coming."