The voice, strange and unfamiliar, woke me from my dreams of being curled up and dozing in Nancy's cleavage.

"How is he?" the LT asked.

"Recovering, for what it's worth, sir," Nancy said.

"Medevac is not available at this time, Specialist Nagle," LT James said quietly. "I have complete and total faith in your ability to keep Corporal Stillwater alive as long as possible. While I understand that you may not be able to keep him alive indefinitely, I do believe that his chances of survival are increased by your treatment. How extensive are his injuries?"

"I don't think his brain is bleeding, sir. I think he suffered a cluster headache that turned into a migraine, which in turn shut him right down. He took a lot of damage two months ago, the low oxygen level up here and his insistence on reading isn't helping, and he should be on bed rest for at least another week," Nancy told him. I tried to open my eyes and could tell by the pulling sensation that they'd been taped shut. Again.

"Specialist Nagle, do you honestly think that if you tried to put Corporal Stillwater on a quarters profile that he would follow instructions, or do you think that he would return to work?" LT James asked. I heard Stokes snort in laughter. "Precisely. I would prefer that he not sustain additional injury and I am concerned about how much more additional damage he can withstand."

Nancy chuckled again. "Sir, the problem with Stillwater and Bomber is they're physically really tough, which means they can soak up massive amounts of damage before they drop. Then once they drop they're so messed up that you'll be lucky to keep them alive for a few minutes longer to stabilize them. However, if they're able to hang in there and survive till they're stabilized, then they'll make it. I'm just hoping I can keep him stabilized long enough to heal up, and that idiot Texan doesn't choke on his own tongue or give me something else to worry about."

There was silence for a minute, and the lizard threw an image of LT James standing there thoughtfully for me to reference. The wiring was spread out in his little work station, some of the panels were pulled apart, and static kept shooting across his screens. His outline of my body had a strobing red dot in my head, another in my shoulder, showing the little lizard where I was suffering serious injury. I could see the image of the LT on one of the static filled screens, and knew he was standing in the middle of the room weighing everything carefully in that computer he called a brain.

"That lies upon Corporal Stillwater and Specialist Bomber, Specialist Nagle. That physical resiliency will serve them well on the field of battle, but if they do not alert you to serious injury within a timely manner then your conscious is clear." He cleared his throat. "Some men, they fight until the last drop of blood and do not stop until the bugle is sounded."

"I'm right here," I managed to get out. The lizard jumped away from the shower of spark from the wiring, but diving right back in when the words came out recognizable.

"Indeed you are, Corporal. Forgive us for discussing you in such a manner as we thought you still unconscious from your injuries," the LT said, and I heard his boots come nearer. His hand, heavy, callused, and warm, settled on my forehead. "I am merely acquiring a status report from Specialist Nagle regarding your condition, as is my duty as Rear Detachment OIC."

"I'll be all right, sir, it was just a headache," I told him.

"If it was 'just a headache' I sincerely doubt it would have involved grand-mal seizures, blindness, and unconsciousness," the LT replied. No sarcasm, no snide tone, just a simple statement of fact made all the more creepy by his inflectionless monotone.

"Hold still, you're gonna lose a few more eyelashes," Nancy told me, and I felt her rip the tape off of my eyes. "Blink for me." I could see her, and slowly blinked for her. "Good. Now the left and then the right." I followed her instructions, and she put a penlight in my eyes. "Follow the light." I watched it move back and forth, losing it from my sight when it got further to the left toward where my peripheral vision should have been. "His left eye's a bit janky still, sir, but I think he's on the mend."

"Excellent, Corporal. I have taken the liberty of removing your overdue paperwork from your office. You may ask me for their return in two weeks, not a day sooner, and are highly advised to avoid doing anything intensive with your eyes," LT James told me, his voice stern. "While the Army runs on paperwork, the paperwork being demanded of you at this time is already overdue by a factor of months and a few more weeks will not matter one way or another to the Department of Defense or ChemCorps."

"Yes, sir," I answered. My voice sounded rusty, almost unused.

"Very well. Specialist Nagle?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I will need you to accompany me to the CQ Area, I need you to write an evaluation on the condition of Corporal Stillwater and other injured personnel." He was silent for a moment and when I looked at him he looked like a man wrestling with a difficult decision. "I may put Corporal Stillwater's squad on modified light duty. I refuse to lose soldiers over demands made by a commander who has no data on the actual conditions of an area of operations." He turned around, a perfect about face, and started to walk away. "This whole situation is beginning to appear unacceptable to me. The mission cannot be accomplished without expending soldiers' lives, and expending those lives directly contradicts the mission goals."

Nancy followed him out, pausing to turn off the light and tell me she wanted it dim to save my eyes. Right before she shut the door, she told Stokes and I to get some rest. When Nancy locked the door behind her, Stokes sat down on John's bed, crossing her arms and pulling her hat out of her pocket so she could pull it over her eyes.

"Get some rest, Ant," she told me. "I'll be here if you need anything."

"I'm fine," I told her, going to sit up. Sharp pain shot through my head and I fell back with a groan. Stokes chuckled as I lifted my arm to cover my eyes. The lizard hissed angrily at me and flipped some switches. I was warm under the comforter, and Charlie the bunny felt nice against my chest.

Stokes started snoring softly before I fell asleep, but it lulled me deeper into sleep rather than disturbed me. I could smell Stokes subtle perfume, and maybe that followed me down into my dreams.

Stokes was holding Nancy down while I took her fiercely and brutally, ignoring her cries and protests, not hearing that single word that she knew would shut down whatever we were doing. She was saying a lot of things in the thick guttural voice she used when we fucked, but not her safe word, so I knew that how brutally I was twisting her breast was what she wanted and increased my grip and the twist rather than stopping like she was asking. Stokes was naked, urging me on with dirty talk, her massive tits swaying back and forth in tempo with the brutal thrusts into Nancy. Stokes began kissing me, moving up to straddle Nancy's face and Nancy eagerly taking what Stokes was offering.

Then the dream twisted, darkened. The barracks room and the liquor bottles vanished to be replaced by Innie's bedroom. The Johnny Cash, Ozzy Osborne, Pat Benetar and last year's State Fair posters on the soft pink walls with her track awards. Her stuffed animals were on her dresser, and I could see her school backpack on the chair of her makeup table. The room was dim, the curtains pulled aside on the window to show a full moon and a starry night. The breeze was curling into the room and I could smell the smells I always associated with Innie's room.

My twin sister had her arms up around me and was looking at me with sparkling eyes and smiling lips. Her small breasts were heaving and I could feel her naked stomach against mine. I looked up to see Aine kneeling naked on Innie's pillows, her spread legs on either side of Innie's head. As I watched, Aine began kissing Innie as my sister opened her legs for me before reaching down to take me in her hand. Aine kissed me while Innie rubbed me up and down between her legs while she whispered the word 'here' to me in time with each up and down of her hand.

Aine's eyes were full of mischief as she broke the kiss. "Go slow, and go now, her belly is ripe. Fill her belly with your seed, Annie."

With a single slow thrust, I buried myself inside my sister's belly, and she gasped, then said my name in a guttural lust filled moan. I started stroking gently as my sister moaned beneath me, her breasts moving slightly with us. Time slowed as we moved together, Aine urging us as we began to move more and more urgently, the sound of my sister's voice and our coupling wiping my mind clean and left behind only the burning need for my sister, body and soul. She opened up deep inside and the last of me was inside of her. She cried out in joy and bit my chest as her need matched mine.

"You've both wanted this for so long." Aine smiled. "Swell her belly, Annie."

That heightened my lust and made me go speed up my pace.

Below me, Innie flexed her hips as her urgency increased and she moaned to me. "Swell my belly, Aodán, swell me."

That finished me and I fell on Innie and groaned as I emptied myself deep into her belly. Innie cried out, repeating her previous sentence in almost a gurgle as she came with me.

Aine saw this and laughed, her voice full of dark mirth, and I realized with a start that the cross-legged girl was different than when we'd started. Aine's breasts were swollen, leaking milk down the gentle under slope to drip on her swollen bellow. Below the belly with the protruding purple belly button, her crossed legs were spattered with milk. Her bare feet and knees had grass stains on them.

The dream shattered into pieces, but I stayed still, only opening my eyes, because I could feel soft warm naked flesh pressed against mine. The body was completely familiar, from the light tickle of the tuft of hair on her mons, her nipples hot and hard against my chest, the way her legs twined with mine, and she smelled right before she kissed me.

Like apple blossoms, a wild feral smell, and blood.

Aine's eyes were open as she kissed me, and I felt my stomach churn as I realized where the dream that had just shattered had come from. I could see the same dark glee as I'd seen in the dream, and knew she was laughing as she ran her tongue across my closed lips.

I twisted to throw her off and she used that chance to wrap her arms around my chest, her legs further around mine, and hold onto me like a little monkey. I opened my mouth to yell at her and her tongue dove into my mouth. I rolled back over, trying to throw her off, and with a wiggle and a twist I was on top of her. She had my arms pinned to my sides as she wiggled again, moving down, pressing part of me against where she wanted it. I went limp, unresisting, and kissed her back, staring into her eyes and trying to remember how much I had once loved her. She broke the kiss with a wide smile, breathing heavy as she wiggled again, trying to get what she wanted where she wanted.

"Just like it used to be, Annie." She gave me a wicked smile. "Although it looks like you've grown in more ways than one." I gave a moan as I stared at her, trying to kiss her as she was speaking, and she turned her head slightly to keep talking, letting me kiss the side of her neck instead, just like she always liked. Kissing or licking the side of her delicate neck would make her purr with pleasure and fire on all her pistons.

It worked perfectly. I could feel her moisten even further and her lips opened as she flexed her hips to slide me between her lips. Her smile widened in victory as the tip nuzzled the clutching pink hole between her legs. She had me, everything she knew from our youth told her she had me, everything we had experienced together as we explored each other bodies told her she had me, everything that had been programmed into me told her she had me, and everything she had taught me to do told her she had me.

Except I'd survived Alfenwehr and Atlas and everything life had thrown at me since I'd walked into that alley. I'd fought then, I'd fought since I'd arrived in 2/19th, I'd eventually go down fighting in some ditch in some fight nobody would ever remember.

Hatred, cold pure hatred forged into my very soul welled up and she was unable to see it as her face lit up in a victorious expression.

Which turned into surprise when I suddenly pulled my arms away. She wasn't expecting it when I grabbed her by her throat, pushing her backwards. I squeezed her neck, letting go of the dazed look I'd always worn as a kid when her body intoxicated me to the point where my brain shut down and I couldn't think of anything but her. She wasn't processing the information, couldn't really understand just how fully I'd actually changed as my hands tightened.

Across from us Stokes was sleeping, but I didn't think she'd be any help. The room was only dimly lit by the nightlight, and I could smell the faint smell of smoldering Irish moss, reminding me of the smell of the incense that my mother, aunts, and grandmothers used to burn to get us kids to go to sleep.

Aine's face went from surprise to pain when I kept pushing her back, her spine crackling as I bore down. Aine grabbed my wrists and tried to pull my hands off of her neck but failed, my forearms bunching and I cut off her air. She got panicked as I hit resistance and kept up the pressure, and then it contorted in pain as she went back even further.

She raised her butt up in a sinuous motion, and her strength didn't surprise me as she broke my grip by bringing her arms up between us and forcing my arms apart. She rolled off of me, taking the blanket with her as she hit the ground. I swung around, intending to get off the bed and hurt her. No clear plan, just hatred and a driving need to physically hurt Aine was all I had. I expected to see her laying on the floor in the blanket, stunned and confused, unable to figure out what had happened and how I had been able to resist her.

She was there, but so was something I wasn't expecting.

Stokes stood there completely naked, her face strangely blank, her eyes half closed, and her lips parted slightly as she panted and whimpered faintly. Thick well-defined muscle covered her, her flat stomach smooth and unblemished, her thighs, arms, neck, and shoulders thick with muscle hardened by exercise, weight lifting, and hard work. She had a hickey on one side of her neck and a small bite mark on the other. Her breasts were as massive as I thought they would be, with a thick shelf of muscle supporting them, capped by soft brown areoles and nipples the size of a nickel. Between her trembling thighs I could see the thick patch of black hair that hid her pussy. The hair was matted, wet, glimmering in the light, and two fingers from her left hand moved rhythmically at the top of her slit.

Even more intimate, I could see the thick scar down her left side, down her left leg, across her hip, from where the doctors saved her life and put her back together.

It embarrassed me, made me feel as if I had violated her somehow to see her scars in the dimness. Seeing her exposed like that was making me feel dirtier than what Aine had done to me because I knew that it hadn't been her choice to show me those scars. I knew she didn't like others seeing them to the point where she wouldn't get undressed with the lights on, not even to make love, and only exposed them if given no other choice.

The small bite mark on her neck oozed blood and was shiny with drying saliva. I knew what was going on, why Stokes was standing naked in front of me touching herself when I knew she was shy about her body.

Aine had bit her and her mind was shut down. I knew what her bite could do. She'd shut my own mind down more than once with a small bite and a lick of her long feline tongue. It made the mark burn, but it lit your body up with warm tingling fire, made you not care she'd bitten you, swept away all conscious thought of anything but sex and Aine.

Stokes clothing was folded up neatly on John's bed, and I knew the smaller set next to it was Aine's. I stepped past Stokes, who moaned softly, as if she was in pain, and a disgusted expression crossed her face right before I lost sight of her in the three steps it took me to cross the room. That was good, it meant she was fighting, that she wasn't as completely lost as I was worried she might be. I grabbed Aine's uniform and turned around to look at her as she stood up with the blanket draped around her.

"Get out," I told her, tossing her uniform at her. She caught it, glaring at me angrily for a moment before they suddenly softened and glowed warmly at me. She held her uniform with one arm while her other arm moved down and she parted her legs. Her fingers slid between her legs, her palm over the damp little patch of pubic hair, and parted her outer lips to display everything. How puffy her inner lips were, how swollen her clit was and how far it was protruding from the hood, how wet she was inside. She knew what the sight of it did, how it inflamed me, and her smile was hard and predatory as my eyes moved up to her perfectly shaped breasts.

She opened her mouth to say something as I stepped forward, my arm going past her head as she suddenly flinched from me. When my hand withdrew from under the pillow on my bunk, the top bunk, her eyes widened in fear as my knife appeared in her vision.

"Get out, or I'll cut your fucking heart out, Aine," I growled, stepping back from her and gesturing with the knife.

She glanced down at my erection, the tip shining with her juices, then back at my face, her smile reappearing.

"You fucked up Stokes, my friend, Aine. Get the fuck out or I'll hold you down and shave your head before I cut your fucking heart out," I told her, gesturing with the knife again.

There was defiance in her eyes as she moved past me, and I watched her the whole way, glaring at her in hatred as she opened the door and moved into the dark hallway. Her butt was dimpled and moved sweetly, making my mouth water and filling me with the desire to push her onto the floor, so she would be kneeling on all fours, and burying my face in her.

That cold core of hatred that filled me overrode that though. I stood and watched her as she turned in the hallway, her pale skin luminous in the darkness.

"I'll leave Miranda with you, to whet your appetite for later," she whispered as the door slammed in her face.

The sound of Stokes panting seemed loud in the dimness as I left the small hallway and returned to the main room. She was still standing in place, her shoulder shifting as her hand moved busily between her legs.

"Miranda," I said softly, moving up next to her.

She let out a guttural moan in response.

"Stokes," I said. I reached out and touched her arm, feeling her muscles jump and tremble beneath my fingertips. Her skin was hot, feverish to the touch, and when my fingertips lightly pressed into the muscle of her upper arm she turned at the waist to face me. Her eyes were still half-closed, sleepy looking, and devoid of any thought.

She whispered something, a name maybe, or maybe a plea, but I wasn't listening as I reached out to grab her forearm and gently tug on her arm. Her hand came away from her crotch as her arm extended toward me and my hand slid down her arm until I was holding her wrist.

"Come on, Miranda, come with me," I told her, tugging her gently toward the hallway. She nodded slowly, her body swaying enticingly as she followed me. I led her to the bathroom, turning on the light with my free hand before letting go of her arm to reach in and turn on the shower. Stokes stepped up behind me, pressing against me, wrapping her right arm around me to grab my hard cock at the base and stroke softly up and down. She moaned again, her breath hot against my neck, and ground her crotch against my ass.

Without bothering to try to pull her hand away or get her off of me, I stepped forward into the hot water, reaching down to stop her stroking by grabbing myself right above her hand when her pinky reach the bottom. She followed me, still pressing tight to me, the water sluicing down over us and the steam filling our lungs.

I turned around, toward her arm around me to force her to let go of me, and pushed my hips forward, my erection along the top of her thigh and trapped between our bodies. She moaned again and went to kiss me, but I ducked my head and she kissed the top of my head instead of my lips. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands cupping my ass cheeks and squeezing as she pulled me even tighter against me.

The woman's raw power was breathtaking. I could feel my ribs creak slightly at the pressure as her arms tightened, even though I knew she wasn't putting her full power into it.

It excited me more than frightened me.

I reached up one hand to her head, wrapping my hand in the hair at the top of her head to pull her head to the side. She moaned slightly as the water hit her neck. With my other hand I reached past her to turn up the hot water until I could barely stand the heat. I looked up at her, watching her eyes as the water kept pouring onto her neck. Her pupils were wide beneath the heavy lids, and it suddenly dawned on me that Miranda had long thick lashes.

She moaned again as I shifted her slightly so that the water wasn't hitting her neck so hard, then rubbed the soap on the bite mark. She moaned again, her hips bucking, and I knew the sensation was driving her crazy. Aine's bites were always highly sensitive, almost plugged into the pleasure center of the brain, and even a gentle warm breath on the bite caused ripples of pleasure to flood through the victim's body.

I knew the effects of her bite well.

I pulled back the soap and dropped it, grabbing her hair with my soapy hand and pulling her head to the side of the spray hit the bite. She shuddered again, and I saw her pupils contract for a second before slowly dilating again. She pushed me backwards suddenly, her height, weight, and sheer power leaving me unable to resist. Her hands slipped from around me and she slid her hands against my shoulders to pin me in place as she stepped back. I didn't have a grip on her and she was able to pull back far enough that I again got an eyeful of her wet and naked body.

I wanted her, I'd wanted her since I met her, but I knew she didn't want me. Aine had fucked with her head, turned her against herself. It sound like superstition, paranoia, like the tales the matrons of my family and Aine's told but I knew better.

Aine had done the same thing to me far too often.

Her hands slid down my arms to grab my wrists tightly, almost painfully, then she lifted up my hands to her breasts. I willed my hands to stay closed, to stay tight fists, but the lizard wanted the same thing Miranda and I wanted and had no compunction about it. My hands opened up and I cupped her breasts, squeezing slightly, her hard nipples between my thumb and forefinger, resting against the webbing between them. He wanted them to roll her nipples, tried to follow his instincts. Instead I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. We stood like that for a long second, my eyes closed so I couldn't see the tempting naked Amazon in front of me.

Without warning, her grip loosened slightly and I opened eyes. Her expression was confused as she dropped her hands, letting me release her breasts. Her pupils looked normal, no longer deep pits where I'd drown if I looked too long. Her eyes glanced down and Stokes blushed suddenly.

"Stillwater? What?" she said, her voice horrified as she suddenly realized where she was and that we were both naked.

"You all right?" I asked her, keeping my eyes locked on hers. She nodded quickly, glancing down again and blushing deeper. "Good, wash your neck with the soap on the shower floor really well."

I didn't say anything else, just stepped out of the shower sideways and into the bathroom. I left to get her uniform, pull on a pair of boxers, and grab a pack of Marlboros and the bottle of Wild Turkey out of the fridge.

When I returned she called out my name, slightly nervous.

"Yeah. We're OK, Miranda, I'm just gonna light a smoke. When you're done, I'll get you a towel," I told her, setting the bottle in the sink.

"Light me one, please?" Her voice had a weird, lost quality, and I knew she was wondering what had happened. I had a pack of matches slid in the cellophane, and pulled two smokes out before lighting them with the matches and returning them to their storage spot.

"Did we..." She started to ask.

"No," I interrupted. "We didn't do anything." I told her honestly. "Lit one for you."

She held her hand out and I used a washcloth to dry her fingers before slipping the cigarette between them. Her hand withdrew and I dropped the washcloth into the sink before grabbing the bottle.

"Want a drink, Miranda?" I asked her, pulling the cork.

"Yeah," she answered as I took a long drink off the bottle. It burned when it went down, but I embraced the pain and the roiling in my gut. I pushed the bottle into the shower and she took the bottle from my hand. I held my hand in the shower till she handed me back the bottle, then took another drink before sitting down on the toilet and putting the bottle between my feet.

We were silent for a long time, passing the bottle back and forth. We went through three smokes, her handing the wet butts back for me to toss in the trashcan. I heard her pee once, but didn't make any comment.

"What happened?" she asked quietly. "The last thing I remember was taking a nap while you slept, then I wake up in the shower holding your hands to my tits and both of us naked?"

"You were sleep walking," I lied. "It's all right, it happens sometimes I guess."

She snorted. "Yeah, I always fuck while I'm sleeping, it gets my pussy wet." She was quiet for a second. "I have a bite mark on my neck, it's too small for your mouth and doesn't feel like it's got those wide farm boy teeth in the front. The tooth marks feel weird and the wound tingles when I touch it, the tingle spreads to my crotch then everywhere else right afterwards."

"Yeah," I answered. "You got bit."

I could hear the fear in her voice as she asked the next question. "Was it Tandy?"

"No," I told her. I thought quickly, then made my decision. I wanted to tell her the truth, tell her she was in danger from Aine, that for some reason the other woman had set her target on Miranda in addition to Nancy, Bomber, and me. Instead a lifetime of silence, the chains of tradition, and the instruction of my family made me keep what I knew about Aine a secret still. "I don't know what bit you, but I woke up to you beside my bed rubbing one out and mumbling at me. I pulled you to the shower, washed off the bite, and left you in there as soon as you quit trying to make me grope you."

"Thanks for not, you know, doing anything," Stokes told me.

"No problem, Miranda," I told her honestly.

She held out her hand for the bottle, and we swapped it back and forth a few times while she stood in the water, and her knew she was thinking.

Suddenly she chuckled, and before I could ask her what she was laughing about she started speaking. "You wanted to, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "You're very beautiful, and I won't deny I wanted you."

"What stopped you? Nancy?" she asked. I wondered why the hell she was asking these questions. Why did it matter?

"No," I answered honestly. I'd lied to her about Aine, I owed her the truth about everything else. "You weren't in your right mind. It'd be like getting you wasted and fucking you while you were passed out. I want you, I'll admit it, but I want you, not you all spazzed out, drugged, blackout drive drunk, or passed out."

"Huh." She was quiet for a moment. "Thanks for that." She was quiet for a moment. "Was it hard?"

I chuckled. "Very hard, Miranda, you saw it." She laughed at that. "Yeah, I wanted you really bad, but it wasn't hard not to take advantage of you." I was quiet for a moment, then admitted what was still bothering me, what was twisting at my gut. "I'm sorry, Miranda."

"For what?" Stokes asked. I heard the shower faucet squeak and knew she was turning down the heat. The cold water one didn't squeak.

"For seeing your scars when you were like that," I said quietly. I still felt like I'd violated her in some way.

There was only the sound of me lighting another cigarette and then silence for a long moment before she spoke again, her voice small and hurt. "I know. They make me ugly. They make my body look disgusting." She sounded like she was crying.

"No, Miranda, that's not what I mean," I told her.

"Yeah, it is. I know what people see, I know what they think when they see those scars, and I know I'm disfigured and disgusting," she cried.

"That's not true," I told her, taking another drink off the bottle. "Christ, believe me, your scars don't bother me." I chuckled, knowing what I was going to say next would remove any sting from the sound. "I wanted to lick them while you squirmed and moaned, trace them with my fingers, rub them, nibble at them. Shit, I still want to."

"Bullshit," she answered, but her voice lacked conviction.

"You've seen the scar on my shoulder, does it disgust you when you see it?" I asked her, taking another pull off the bottle. "Where that maniac rammed a bayonet through my shoulder, where Tandy pushed his finger into me to lick my blood off of it, that symbol of my failure to protect myself or my friends?" I shuddered as I voiced what was whispered in my mind in the dark of the night or every time I saw the scar in the mirror. "Doesn't it disgust you seeing where I failed so bad?"

"No," she said.

"Then why do you think your scars would bother me, Miranda?"

"Once your dick gets hard, you don't care, do you? All you care about once it gets hard is the nearest piece of ass," she tried.

Even though she couldn't see me I shrugged. "Sure, I'll admit it. All I care about is the nearest willing wet pussy, but only one attached to someone I'm attracted to." I was tempted to yank open the shower curtain and confront her, but I'd violated her enough. "Someone like you."

"Then why are you sorry?"

"Because I fucking violated you, staring at your body, seeing those scars without you showing them to me."

"Seriously?"

"I wouldn't want someone looking at my scars without me letting them, without me wanting them to. I'd feel fucking violated."

"Yeah, but you didn't get your scars because you were a stupid bitch who let her boyfriend drive drunk and kill a family," she told me, her voice full of bitterness. "You didn't do them to yourself."

I figured it would take something drastic to get her to look at things a bit different so I stood up, turning my back to the shower. What I was going to do was going to hurt, hurt a lot, but Stokes was my friend. "Take a look at my back, Miranda." I heard the shower curtain open. "See all those thin scars across my back, on my ass, on the back of my thighs."

"Yeah." Her voice sounded confused. "What are they from?"

"I got those because my mother used to beat me all the time with everything from a belt to a wooden spoon to a coathanger. Hell, she even beat me with a cross sometimes, Jesus side against my back. I got those scars because I knelt on the floor and let someone beat me until blood ran down my back and then I held still and let them rub salt into the wounds." I turned around, knowing I was naked. She had let the shower curtain fall from her hand sometime during my little speech, revealing her wet and naked body. "So do they disgust you?" It felt like a knife twisting in my gut as I asked her.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she told me.

"For what?" I asked, still staring her in the eyes.

"That she did that to you."

I gave a shrug. "You didn't do it. I'm the one who let her do it." The lizard curled up and keened in pain at my admission.

"Your birth mother?" she asked softly. I nodded. "Before William's father adopted you?"

"Yeah. Before she broke my arm and I ran away," I told her. "But before that I knelt in front of her and let her beat me."

"You were like 10, you couldn't do anything about it."

"I did them to myself just as much as you did those," I told her. She nodded. I took another risk. "Look down." She glanced down and then back up. "Am I hard?" She shook her head. "Keep watching it."

"Why?" she asked me, licking her lips as her eyes travelled down.

"Because I want you to see something," I told her.

"I've already seen it," she told me, but she didn't look away.

"Just watch, Miranda," I told her. I reached out and traced my finger down the scar on her side, feeling her water heated flesh under my fingertips. With my other hand I slid my fingertips underneath her heavy breast, tracing the scar under there. She jerked as if to pull away and I grabbed her breast, this time gently squeezing her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She stopped trying to pull away, so I let go and cupped her cheek.

"Tell me I don't find you sexy," I whispered, still holding her eyes with mine. I stroked her side, along the scar, still cupping her cheek. "Tell me that it was hard and you were the only piece of ass available."

The only sound besides my voice was her breathing as we stood there. I knew I was already hard as a rock. When I reached down to stroke the thick scar on her leg, I felt myself twitch and heard her moan softly.

"Lift your arm," I told her. She did it without argument. "May I kiss you?" I asked. She nodded, her lip held between her teeth and her eyes still looking down. I leaned forward and ran my tongue down the scar, then kissed my way back up it. When I reached the top, I straightened back up and looked in her eyes. Her eyes were vulnerable as she looked back, her lip still held between her teeth.

"Can I touch you?" she asked suddenly. I nodded, still cupping her cheek, and she reached out to take my hard cock in her hand. She stroked it softly for a moment and I thrust into her hand on the last few strokes. "It's really me, the scars don't bother you?" The reminder of the scars, her body, made it throb and she chuckled throatily. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Miranda, it's all you," I admitted. "Please stop."

"Why?" she asked, squeezing gently on the head before stroking again. She took my other hand and guided it between her legs. "Touch me."

The lizard urged me on as I let her push my fingers between her lips. Reflexively I sought out the little nubbin at the top of the slit and began gently rubbing it for a minute. She was thick and slick there and the proof of her arousal against my fingertips made my head swim. She let go of my wrist, reaching up to grab the shower curtain rod as we masturbated each other while staring each other in the eyes. We stood like that for a moment before I managed to get my emotions and need under control and I stepped back.

She looked hurt, confused for a moment.

"I want to, Miranda, I really really do," I admitted.

"Nancy?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "No. You were bit, you were out of control, I can't be sure that you're thinking clearly, and if we keep going I won't be able to stop."

She nodded, smiling, and reached out playfully as if she was going to grab me again, chuckling when I jumped back.

"You wouldn't, would you?" She chuckled again and stepped out of the shower, following me as I backed up against the wall next to the toilet. She smiled, licking her lips, and staring down at me.

"You get your answer?" I asked.

"Get dressed," she told me, grabbing her bra and looping it behind her to secure it across her stomach before tugging the cupside around. Silently I went over to where my uniform was dropped on the floor and got dressed. When I was done I waited while she finished lacing up her boots and blousing her pantsleg.

"You know, that was fun," she admitted. "I've always wanted to do that. Are you OK?"

I stepped forward and hugged her. She kissed the top of my head and then increased the pressure of her hug, driving my breath from my lungs. She chuckled and let me go, stepping back.

"Nancy's going to beat the shit out of me, isn't she?" she said. She laughed and took my hand. I squeezed and she squeezed back.

"No, not if we tell her about it," I answered.

"You didn't mind it?"

"Nope."

"You OK?" she asked.

"Yeah. Come on, let's head down to the mag area," I told her. She nodded and followed me out the door. We walked quietly down the dark hallway of Hammerhead Hall, holding hands. She didn't let go until we'd reached the Mag Office doors. When I looked at her curiously after she pulled her hand away, she shrugged.

"Nancy," was all she said. I knew what she meant and nodded. She gave me a smile. "Maybe I'll see if she wants to join in. That might be fun."

I laughed and opened the door. The rest of the squad was sitting around the medical supply locker, the contents spread out as they went through it. They all looked up, and John smiled at me.

"Feeling better, Stillwater?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I told her. "I took a nap and feel a lot better."

"Come on over here and sit next to me while we inventory the locker," Nancy told me, patting the floor next to her. She smiled wider. "Sit on the other side of me, Stokes."

Stokes nodded, sitting down next to Nancy and grabbing one of the open boxes of IV needles. Nancy smiled at her, took her hand, and squeezed it.

"Thanks for watching my boy," she said. Stokes nodded, then blushed when Bomber repeated it. "Let's knock this shit out so we can all get drunk," Nancy finished.

It took almost no time at all for all of us to start laughing as we inspected the locker and swapped out past shelf life and damaged parts for replacements. One of the things that LT James had brought up to the unit had been replacements for the medical supplies we'd gone through during the repairs or earlier, as well as the stuff that had been used or destroyed during the incident with the nutcase with the axe.

At seventeen thirty hundred, we hurriedly packed everything away and marked the boxes to remind us which ones had been gone through and which ones hadn't. We'd kind of bullshitted around the last few hours, getting about half the work done that we should have, but it made us feel better and made us forget that were stuck in Hell.

Not that it mattered, it wasn't like we had anything better to do.

We tromped down to the CQ Area, arriving before almost everyone else. LT James hadn't shown up by the time most of us were gathered together and I noticed that unless more people showed up we were now down three people.

Studson and Barker were missing.

The LT arrived at precisely ten minutes before eighteen hundreds hours, standing off to the side of our little formation and looking everyone over. I noticed that the purple under his eyes had deepened and his eyes were bloodshot as he looked at everyone. I noticed his hands shaking as he called us to attention and asked for our report.

Despite the fact I counted three people missing from our formation, their squad leaders called out that everyone was present or accounted for. The LT passed his hand wearily over his eyes and let it go, seemingly unwilling to ask about the missing men.

I would have been paranoid about them missing (hell, I was paranoid) but I could understand why maybe the LT wasn't worried; after all it wasn't that uncommon to give people the rest of the day off and tell them not to worry about the last formation once work was done. Lord knew that the Magazine Platoons attended close of business formations infrequently at best. Usually by the time we'd returned from the sites it was past eighteen hundred, and if we'd arrived back early usually the crews were too tired to do anything but collapse.

Once he called for attention, the LT rubbed his face for a moment before starting to speak. "The military is not in the habit of requiring your approval of orders that you are given," he said, and I could hear the exhaustion in his voice, which made me wonder if he'd even gotten any sleep during the day as he continued. "After this formation all of you who currently have no roommates will be moving into a room with another soldier. Those of you who have space in your rooms for another soldier please line up in front of the trophy case. Those of you who are in a room by yourselves at this time but do not have space in your rooms please line up in front of the bathrooms. Those who have two or more in your room and no space go stand next to the stairwell door." He shook his head. "I would prefer that you all remain segregated by sex, however I realize that for some of you that option would be considered sub-optimal." I'll give him credit that he didn't stare and Nancy, Bomber and me.

"I will be staying with Sergeant Butcher in Room 261 if there are any problems." He stared at us for a moment, then shook his head. "Fall out, get something to eat. Morning formation is at zero-nine hundred unless you have worked the last two days straight."

Bomber, Nagle and I went over to stand by the stairwell door. Aine stood next to Nancy, her lower lip held by her sharp little teeth and eyes wide as she watched the rest of Rear-D split into groups. The LT was mixing people together, writing down room numbers in his green notebook and letting people get something to eat when he was done.

Finally he moved up to those of us gathered up at the stairwell, looking down at Aine who barely came up to his sternum. "Private McCullen, how many people are in your room?"

"Specialist Lanks and myself, but she has a room-mate who has personal effects in the room so there's no room to move anyone else in," she said shyly, looking up at the LT through her too-long eyelashes. "I feel safe with Specialist Lanks, the only other people I'd feel safe with would be Corporal Stillwater and his room-mates." She gave us a slow wicked smile, glancing at us out of the corner of her eyes. "But I'm sure that there's no room."

"We only have three beds in our room," I said, shooting Aine a glare. "And they're all taken." Someone snickered and I saw Nancy give whoever it was a threatening look.

"Very well, Private McCullen. Go have some dinner. Dismissed," the LT told the petite woman. Aine smiled at him and went over to where the A-Rats had been opened up and people were slapping food onto the trays. Aine's walk drew the eyes of most of the Rear-D who were present, and I deliberately looked away, noticing that the LT hadn't even glanced at Aine.

"Corporal Stillwater, after we eat I would like you to accompany me to the Commander's Office so that I can give you the list of names and room numbers in case of an emergency," he told me. He looked at Bomber and Nagle and made a motion to include them. "I wish to speak to the two of you also at that time."

Bomber and Nancy nodded and he smiled. "Go get some chow, soldiers. Dismissed."

Dinner was a simple affair, one of the A-Rats had been mislabeled as a turkey and gravy dinner when it was actually scrambled eggs with ham chunks and hashbrowns. Aine talked to Meeks, snuggled up close to him and giggling at his jokes. Meeks shot me a grin and I just rolled my eyes, going back to talking to my cousins and my friends. Stokes was sitting with us while we ate, putting up with Nancy ribbing her constantly. We all ignored the crashing of boots from above us as well as the shouts in German.

That was just the barracks.

Bomber and I finished shoveling down our food a few minutes before Nancy did, and when Nancy finished she asked Stokes to take our trays down to the War Stocks Room where they'd set up the equipment to wash the trays and silverware. Stokes tried to tell us to take them ourselves, but Bomber pointed out that the LT wanted to talk to us after dinner, so she agreed with a shrug. When Nancy invited her up to our room to have a couple beers she smiled brightly.

When the LT finished eating, I kicked the bottom of Bomber's boot and nodded, and he nudged Nancy, who'd just managed to make Stokes blush with a particular rude comment about whether or not Stokes was into a certain sexual act. Nancy laughed and got up, following us Bomber and I moved over to where the LT was standing by the stairwell door.

The LT nodded to me as we headed down to the office, the wind screaming around us when we entered the stairwell. When I pulled the door at the bottom of the stairs open for the LT to go first it became obvious why the wind was so bad. The window next to the exterior door was broken, snow blowing in the window and sweeping across the floor, building up in the edges and corners. Above us, in the dark stairwell, there was a long drawn-out shriek and a crashing noise that sounded like one of the doors had come loose. It kept crashing up there and the wind buffeted around us, making the LT reach out and grab the doorway to balance himself.

"Go check that," I told Bomber and Nancy, motioning above us. "If it's the door make sure it's secure. See if we just lost the window. If it's just the window, see if there's any pre-cut plywood we can put over it." They both nodded, turning around and heading up the stairwell. As soon as I let go of the door, the wind slammed it shut with a boom that shook the air and rattled my teeth.

Together we headed into the hallway and toward the Orderly Room.

The little lizard in the back of my skull hissed and I paid attention to him. He knew his shit, and he'd kept me alive more than once.

"Sir, you said you don't believe we're alone in in here?" I asked, taking a longer step to put myself in front of him. The little lizard took a count on the knives I was carrying. One at the hip, one in the boot, and one at the small of my back under the shirt. The lizard brought up how the knives looked, how they felt in my hand, how I'd have to move to draw them, and the different ways they'd have to be used. The lizard heated up my muscles, I could feel the way the cold was moving and I was aware of my balance, the tingling in my limbs.

...the ants go marching one by one...

"No, Corporal, we aren't," he said as I rounded the corner and could see into the Orderly Room. The Orderly Room was dimly lit, a single bulb in the overhead lights vainly struggling to push back the darkness.

From behind me, back by the closet there was a noise, like something slithering along the frozen tile, and the sound made my blood run cold.

"Steady, Corporal," the LT told me.

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"Back me up," He snapped. His voice sounded different, but I missed why, staring at the dark Orderly Room. There were places to hide, behind the desks or beside some of the filing cabinets, but no major blind shots.

"I got you," I answered. The knife whispered as it came out of the sheathe at my waist. The LT didn't even glance back, just brought his keys out of his pockets and unlocked the CO's Office. He pushed the door open, stepping back and to my left, giving me a clear shot at the door as it swung open.

LT James motioned at me to enter and I hit the light switches as I went in fast.

The unit guidon and the V Corps guidon hung limply from the poles at the far side. Dick Cheney, George Bush, and Ronald Reagan stared at me with cold dead eyes, our chain of command reduced to shadows. The room looked clear and I moved in fast at an angle, checking my left and right as I moved to the center of the room and pivoted. I knew I looked stupid, crouched in the middle of the room with my knife pointing down and my off hand brought up to right in front of my sternum. The room was empty, with the windows behind the bookcases that sat behind the desk completely white in the dim light.

The lizard hissed and muttered, agitated back there at the base of my skull. Adrenaline slickened down my spine with wet electricity, my breathing slow and steady from the diaphragm to charge my blood with the most oxygen, my muscles tensing to provide armor that would protect the bones, and the hairs on my skin standing up to give me a split second warning that I'd need to move out of the way of a blow.

"Corporal?" the LT asked me. Unlike most people he didn't whisper, he said it softly, and it barely carried through the frozen air to my ears. The lizard tossed that little fact into the bin marked "Teflon James" and went back to looking at the room through my eyes.

"There's something wrong in here, but I can't see it," I answered softly.

"Coming in," the LT said. I could feel him behind me without even looking, and once again the lizard hissed at his presence. It was a weird singing blankness, this cracked stillness that moved into the surroundings. I could sense him just as sure as if I was looking straight at him, and it bugged the lizard to no end.

He stopped slightly behind me and I kept looking at the dimly lit room. Out of ten fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling only three worked, and there was two others where only one of the tubes glowed spitefully dim.

"Everything OK?" Nagle voice reached us. The LT's sense of presence moved away as I stared at the room. Everything looked right, but I still had this odd feeling, and the lizard was grumbling to himself. I let my eyes unfocus as Nagle told the LT that there wasn't a board to put over it, and the small space between the counter and the door meant that the only way to cover it up meant blocking the door. The door on the other side of the counter was damaged and couldn't be opened, which is why the LT told her that blocking the door was unacceptable and that the broken window would just have to be put up with.

The CO's desk still had the empty nameplate, reminding me that Group hadn't had a CO that had lasted longer than thirty days in over six months. The blotter was spotless, the phone was at the corner at a 45 degree angle, the cup with pens in it was a perfect six inches from the corner. The chair was exactly where it should have been, the bookcases looked fine, and the safe was still...

The safe. When my eyes passed over the safe the lizard hissed.

The LT had come back in, standing about a pace to my left and rear, out of my way in case something happened.

"Sir, do you have the combination to the safe?" I asked, still staring at the windows.

Shapes were moving in the snow. The light from the dim fluorescents were turned the windows into mirrors every time the dimmer ones brightened slightly, but the snow was still white as it swept against the windows. I could see dark shapes moving in the snow, which made the lizard watch them, but his hissing was all reserved for the safe, not the shapes in the snow.

"I have it memorized, Corporal," he answered. I nodded and moved toward the safe, keeping an eye out on everything around me. I could hear and sense Nagle and Bomber moving into the Orderly Room.

"However, it is kept within the Commander's notes in the desk, so the combination is not as secure as I believe it should be," the LT continued. I nodded and knelt down in front of the safe, looking at it closely.

It was a heavy one, about three inch thick sides, one inch bolts securing it to the concrete under the tile, a dial as wide as my palm with glow in the dark numbers on it, and an opening lever that I knew you'd have to push down and then pull up to open it. A manila folder corner was sticking out of the bottom seam of the safe, something I hadn't consciously noticed until I'd knelt down, but the lizard had picked up on instantly. There was no way in hell that LT James would have let that stand, the man was far too precise for that.

Which meant we weren't alone in the barracks.

"You might want to check the contents, sir," I told him. "I think someone's been in it."

"Trade places with me, will you, Corporal? Keep watch on the windows while I open the safe to determine if the contents have been accessed." He told me. I stood up and took two steps backwards, while the LT moved smoothly around me and squatted down in front of the heavy duty safe. I kept one eye on the window while I paid attention to what LT James was doing with the dial.

Twenty-eight, eleven, nineteen was the combination. The lizard scratched the numbers into the brushed steel wall beside him so I'd never forget them.

He cracked the safe open while I watched the windows. The snow was getting thicker. Where before I'd been able to see individual flakes, now it was just a surging white mass that tried to turn the windows into mirrors. I kept watch as he went through the files inside. I knew some of what was in the safe, having seen the CO reach in and pull my own file from the safe. There were the Group Commander's observations on each soldier, a copy of their training records, the unit TO&E with notes, the unit METL, data sheets on the hot and cold sites, and probably a lot more. I know I'd seen LT James reading my "Smith File" to familiarize himself with me.

He pulled his Leatherman tool out, opening it to one of the smallest flat-head screwdrivers, and inserted it into something at the backside of the door. He spun the lock, pressed the Leatherman again so it clicked, and then repeated the action two more times.

"Take this down, Corporal," he told me. I dug out my green notebook while he spun the lock and check the lever action.

"Ready, sir," I told him.

"Sixteen, four, twenty-one," he told me. I jotted the numbers down, and the lizard crossed out the number on the steel wall and wrote the new numbers over them.

"I have reset the lock to prevent anyone from getting into it again," he said, closing the safe and locking it before standing up. "I have determined what was accessed and what is missing." His voice sounded grim as he turned and looked at me. He moved past me. "I will check the wall lockers, as I made sure they were secured. Check the unsecure drawers in the desk, Corporal."

"Yes, sir," I told him, turning as he went past me. I took a step backwards as he moved into the room.

"We will see if anything else has been disturbed," he told me. He paused and turned toward me as I backed up against the safe. "Do you have any suggestions to... Down!" His voice was a whip-crack that spoke to reflexes hammered into me, a tone of complete command that I'd been raised to obey.

I didn't pause, didn't bother turning to look behind me, didn't bother with anything but lunging forward toward him, turning in mid-air to land on my left shoulder, keeping the blade away from myself. Something bounced off my back and skittered under the CO's desk.

The window shattered inward, snow and wind whipping into the room, and all of the lights but two widely separated single bulbs popped, showering sparks and thin glass down onto the tile.

The LT drew his pistol in a smooth motion, going down on one knee and bringing up his pistol in a training perfect supported grip. Without pause he fired three times, the retort punishingly loud in the office, the muzzle flare lighting up the room, dazzling me and throwing me off as my ears rang and my vision went sparkly.

I heard boots thumping and knew either Bomber or Nagle had moved into the room.

"Orderly Room clear!" Bomber shouted as I rolled over and stared at the window.

"Secure our egress, fall back to the CQ Area," the LT snapped. "Corporal, are you all right?"

"Good to go, sir," I answered. I was covered in glass, and a glance under the desk showed a claw hammer laying there. My stomach clenched when I saw that "2/19 Motorpool" was burned into the handle. I used one hand and my boots to scoot backwards, staring at the window as I moved. The lizard was replaying exactly what happened. My ribs ached where the claw hammer had caught me, but the pain wasn't right for a cracked or broken rib.

"Come on, Corporal, I will cover you," the LT told me. I nodded and scrambled up to my feet, the knife still in my hand. "Fall back to the CQ Area."

I moved past him, into the Orderly Room, where Bomber was standing just as Nagle called out "Clear." from the hallway. Bomber gave me a tight-lipped grin, keeping his eye on the windows.

"Something out there," he said. "I feel fucking naked."

"Lower back," I told him, turning slightly. I felt him lift up the back of my BDU top and pull the bayonet out of the sheathe.

"Thanks, brother," he answered. The door squealed open from the stairwell and I heard Lancer's voice.

"What's going on? Was that weapon's fire I heard?" he asked.

"Watch the door, Lancer, make sure we can fall back," Nancy snapped.

"Roger that," came back Lancer's voice. "Clearing stairwell. Cover me, Private." He was obviously talking to the ACQ.

The LT came into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He looked grim as his eyes swept over the Orderly Room.

"Hold here," the LT told us.

Lancer came in, holding his XM-16 at port arms, and stopped when he saw the LT standing there with his pistol unholstered and Bomber and I holding bare knives in our fists.

"What do you think, Corporal?" the LT asked me. "Are we secure here?"

"Yes, sir," I told him honestly. The little lizard threw up the recollection of the maniac with the mask throwing a hammer through the window of the room we were hiding in a few weeks back.

"What happened?" Lancer asked. He surprised me by speaking softly, not whispering.

"Someone accessed the Commanding Officer's secure records, and while we were checking the room, person or persons unknown threw a claw-hammer at the back of Corporal Stillwater's head," the LT said.

"You all right, Stillwater?" Lancer asked me.

"Caught me in the ribs," I admitted. "Twinges a bit."

"Form up," the LT called out. "Specialist Nagle, come in here."

Nagle came in, her bayonet tight in her fist and her face grim. The scar was almost invisible and I could tell that the cold had started getting to her. She looked at LT James and raised one eyebrow.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Someone came out of the snow and threw a claw hammer at Corporal Stillwater's head," LT James said. "I returned fire with my sidearm but am unsure if it had any effect on our aggressor."

"Shit," Nagle said.

"Do you think that was a prelude to an attack, Corporal?" the LT asked me, rephrasing his earlier question.

I shook my head. "No, that was just the mountain fucking with us. If it had been an attack they would have followed up. I don't think it was aimed at my head, I grabbed the floor and it still hit me in the back. If it had been at my head it would have gone over me."

LT James nodded. "We need to check the Commanding Officer's office again, gentlemen." He looked at Lancer. "Is that the CQ weapon, or your issue weapon?"

"CQ weapon, sir," Lancer answered.

"Hand the weapon off to Specialist Nagle, then fall back to the CQ Area. Send the Assistant CQ and the Assistant Duty Driver to ensure that everyone is in their rooms, get a headcount, and let everyone know that the barracks are locked down until further notice. Everyone in the rooms they are found in, unless they are there by themselves. In that case, they are to immediately move to another room or the Day Room until further notice."

Lancer handed the weapon to Nagle, and went to salute Lt James, who waved it off, before executing an about-face and heading out.

"Specialist Nagle, secure the Orderly Room. Do not fire at shadows and make sure to identify your targets. Let us not suffer any friendly fire casualties. Specialist Bomber, stand fast at the stairwell door. Make sure to keep the entrance to the Ready Room in your awareness in case we are aggressed from that direction," the LT told them. Bomber turned around and headed into the hallway without a word. He turned and waved at me. "Let us go and check the Commanding Officer's office, Corporal."

I nodded, heading back in once he unlocked the door. The wind was whipping around us, and it was cold as hell. He dug out his keys when I moved up to the first standalone wall locker. The lights were barely on, but I could see well enough to see exactly what I was expecting on the brass lock.

Scratches on the hasp and the main lock.

"Let me unlock that, Corporal, and then we can check for anything missing," the LT said.

"Don't bother," I said. I grabbed the lock and pulled sharply, the inside just giving a wet snap as the lock popped open in my hand.

The LT moved up and looked at the lock when I held it up. "Someone used a prybar effect upon it," he said as I moved to the next locker. He dropped the lock and then opened the wall locker. "I will check this one."

Two pulls and the other two lockers were pulled open. Two were mostly empty, the third only held the CO's Class-A's and Dress Blue uniforms.

"This locker held blueprints to the barracks as well as the layout of this part of post and a listing of which soldier is in which room," LT James told me, waving at one empty locker. "Along with other sensitive information." He made a noise of disgust that surprised me. "Information that should have been properly secured under the auspices of S-2, but Colonel Grant, when he was in charge of this Group, felt that the information should be quickly at his fingertips rather than have to draw the information from S-2."

He turned and moved back over to the CO's desk while I snapped the locks back into place to secure the lockers again. I had just finished the last one and turned around when he spoke again. "Do you recall this piece of equipment here on the desk, Corporal?"

I moved over and looked on the desk.

Sitting on the desk, on the blotter, directly in front of the chair, was an extreme cold weather mask, flattened down and turned so that the chin pointed directly at me. It was lightly dusted with snow that had blown in from the shattered window, but it didn't obscure any details as I stared at it in horror.

Everything tunneled down as I stared at the green mask, the plastic over the compressed cotton featureless. There were brown spots on the mask, and streaks where dried blood had spilled from the mouth slit and below the nose.