Lewis sat in the chair and listened with the Orderly Room clerks at the heated argument taking place in the Company Commander's office. She heard Stillwater threaten to not only hand over his E-5 rank, but threaten to turn in the paperwork so he'd go to someplace called Blackbriar Ridge for a year. SFC Battle threatened to "slap the slant out of [Major Tran's] eyes" if he called her another racial slur. There'd been the sounds of exertion and a crashing thud that had shaken the frames on the wall, followed by Henley snapping out and order to Stillwater not to break the MP's leg. There had been more arguing, ending with Colonel Henry.

"Sergeant Stillwater, while this delicate situation around a small child, beloved by a mother who undoubtedly feels the separation most keenly, is sorted out, you will leave my office, sign for the mission packet from Specialist Shaft, and follow the orders inside," The big Colonel stated.

"Yes, sir," Stillwater growled.

Shaft reached out and pressed her finger on one of the buttons of the intercom, shutting off the sound. She reached into the top drawer of her desk, pulling out a sealed courier packet and then a notebook stamped "SERIAL NUMBERS" on it. She opened it up and picked up a pen, looking up with that smile that made Lewis instantly self-conscious about her own teeth.

Stillwater opened the door to the CO's office, his face grim, and he closed it behind him before he thumped up to Shaft.

"Check the serial number," Shaft said, tapping the courier envelope.

Stillwater sighed, and Lewis watched as he checked the round lead tag's serial number against the number listed in the log book. He initialed it and looked at Shaft.

"Open immediately?" He asked.

Shaft nodded solemnly.

Stillwater sat down clumsily, his left leg straight out. He pulled out a multi-tool from the case on his belt and used it to cut the thin twisted cable. He pulled it off, then tossed it into the trashcan.

Lewis found it kind of silly since the thick envelope was paper and could be easily torn into. Like some elaborate dance where all the participants pretended that the costumes were real.

Stillwater pulled out two thick manila folders, both taped.

"Ugh," Stillwater said.

Shaft held out her hand, accepting the folders from Stillwater. She dutifully recorded the serial number on the red tape, initialled it, then had Stillwater initial it. Once that was done, she handed the folders back.

Lewis was intrigued despite the silliness of the whole thing.

Lewis sat there, watching as Stillwater scanned the contents of the two folders, setting one to the side and going over the other a second time. He sighed and looked at Lewis.

"Get the crew together. All of them. Tell them to load up for full extended roll-out," He growled. He handed her a  sheet of typewritten paper. Lewis glanced at it and saw it was a packing list.

"Repack everything according to that list," Stillwater said. He pulled out another sheet. "Foster should be in the Mag Area, give him that sheet. Tell him to have Groom, Gilly, and Sawmoth help him repack Growler, the Gypsy Wagon, and Banshee according to that list once they've repacked for an extended war-time roll-out."

"Yes, Sergeant," Lewis said, getting up.

"Want me to let everyone know you're pulling war-stocks?" PFC Raleigh asked.

"Please?" Stillwater said.

Lewis realized that the Asian woman's smile was a bit warmer than Lewis had seen her smile.

"No problem, you big thug," She said, standing up. "You should probably stay off that leg anyway."

"Thanks," Stillwater said, smiling back. Once again, Lewis was struck by how young he looked for a split second. "Use the photocopier, run about 30 copies off of that individual list."

The big copier was intimidating. You would pull the staples from a TM or FM, put it in the feed slot, and run off copies that would be stapled and dropped into the outgoing bin. She managed to run off thirty copies without catching anything on fire or piss anyone off, even though Shaft looked around the corner and stared at her for a second.

Grabbing the warm stack of paper, Lewis walked out, heading to the Near Stairwell. Despite the hot day, the stairwell was cold and Lewis felt goosebumps raise on her skin at the low moan of agony she could hear far above her.

Help me...

Lewis jumped at the whisper, hurrying up the stairs to the second floor, pushing into the Mag Area. Foster was playing spades with Gilly, Groom, and Baker. All three of them turned to look at Lewis, same with others that looked bored.

"Stillwater said to load up with a... uh..." Lewis looked at the paper. "Full extended warfare field packing list."

Lewis looked at the other paper, then held it out to Foster, who took it. "Stillwater wants you to repack the vehicles according to this list."

Foster just nodded, his face blank. He stood up and once again the sense of wrongness Lewis felt when Foster moved made Lewis shiver. Foster shambled past her, heading into the Near Stairwell.

"I'm already packed," Groom shrugged. "I'll help some of the newbies."

"Stokes and Cromwell are probably still in your room," Gilly said. She stood up and stretched. "Fucking warfare pack. Christ. Guess I better go down and help Stillwater pull all that bullshit out of the Ready Rooms."

Lewis dug out her notebook, looking up the list of rooms that people hung out in when nobody was allowed to go home in case something happened.

Lewis started in the Day Room, then went through Titty Territory, through Queer Country, then up the Far Stairwell to Hammerhead Hall and walking down, knocking on doors.

Lewis had gotten more than bored, her eyes slightly glazed, so she wasn't really paying attention when she stopped at the next door and hammered on it.

After a moment the door opened, and Lewis stared in shock.

Roberts stood inside, wearing his uniform.

"Lewis," Roberts smiled.

Without saying a word, Lewis stepped forward and hugged him. Roberts stiffened for a second, then his arms went around her and hugged back. After a second the hug broke and Lewis stared at him.

"When did you get back?" Lewis asked.

"Last night. Stillwater picked me up. I went to sick call this morning, they cleared me for light duty," He smiled, and Lewis noticed it was missing the sneering superiority that had always been present in Roberts's eyes during AIT. He slapped his pocket. "I'm on profile for a month or so."

Lewis nodded. "Um, I don't know if it counts for you, but Stillwater said that everyone needs to pack for a full extended warfare field pack," She said. She held out the piece of paper. "This is the packing list."

"Thank you," Roberts smiled again.

"Um, are you going to need help packing?" Lewis asked. She could remember him biting a belt and screaming while Cromwell worked on him. She could remember all the blood, watching Groom mopping Cromwell's forehead and face while Cromwell worked.

To be honest, Lewis was surprised that Roberts had survived.

Roberts shook his head, still smiling. "No. I can do it. If I can't, Ant will help me out."

Lewis nodded. "Glad to see you're back."

Roberts surprised her by stepping forward and hugging her again. "I'm glad to be back. I'm really really glad," He let her go, stepping back. "See ya in a little bit, Lewis."

As he closed the door, Lewis realized that he really meant it, that his eyes had been full of unshed tears.

She shook her head and kept heading down the hallway, stopping at doors, until she'd accounted for and informed everyone on the Atlas Crew of what was expected. Smiling, she headed back to her room.

The light was on and Stokes and Cromwell were busy packing their gear, alternating between shoving things into their rucksack or duffle bags and checking the typed up list. Lewis noticed that Cromwell had her Class-A uniform hanging in a dry cleaning bag at the end of the bed.

Packing was frantic. Not as bad for Lewis, who was an Ammunition Specialist rather than a Special Weapons troop. When she was done, she helped Cromwell, who was slightly behind since Cromwell had to pack three aid bags and two surgical kits. Stokes left to start helping everyone load up the equipment into the vehicles.

"REFORGER isn't for another week even for Advance Party, what the hell is making Henry send us out early like this?" Cromwell asked.

"Stillwater got in a huge fight with Major Tran and a bunch of other NCO's in the CO's office. Colonel Henry ordered Stillwater out to the site, I guess," Lewis guessed. "They were fighting over me."

Cromwell shook her head. "No. The packing lists are already typed up, and I noticed on Wednesday that Motorpool was doing full inspections on our vehicles," Cromwell dropped her finished cigarette into the empty soda can. "He's been planning this. What happened with you he just used as an excuse."

Cromwell stood up, slapping her hands together in a dusting off motion.

"No, whatever this is, he's been planning it," Cromwell shook her head, reaching down and grabbing two of the dufflebags in each hand. "My money's on some kind of SOG op."

"Really?" Lewis perked up, thinking of meeting Rangers and Special Forces.

Cromwell looked at Lewis, then chuckled. "I keep forgetting what a sweet summer child you are. Help me carry this out to the vehicles."

Lewis kept smiling as she helped load the vehicles. Everyone's gear. Two GP Medium tents, camo nets, two 1.5 KW generators, chemical sheeting, radiation shielding panels, gear that Lewis didn't even know the name of.

Lewis was surprised at the amount of people who came out and helped load the vehicles without even being ordered to or asked. People even delayed going to dinner to help load the equipment into the vehicles. Growler left early, Groom behind the wheel. Lewis had heard that Groom was supposed to take Growler up to ASP #3 and grab a triple basic combat load. Lewis waved at Roberts as the vehicle and the trailer behind it pulled out in a cloud of bluish diesel smoke.

Finally the Gypsy Wagon, Banshee, and the trailers behind each vehicle were fully loaded.

"Good luck, suckers," One of the guys yelled as Lewis was pulled into the truck by Creeley, the black Marine yanking her up in one smooth motion.

"Try not to choke on any dicks while we're gone!" Gilly yelled out, sticking her finger out at the three men walking toward the chow hall.

Banshee, the deuce and half cargo truck, fired up, a bearing somewhere in the engine howling with an ear piercing shriek. Once the truck started moving, at least two more bearings joined in the screaming. Lewis winced, reaching up onto the small container on her LBE suspender, popping it open, and putting in the rubber earplugs. It cut the noise down to a bearable level.

Despite the racket, despite the shrieking of the damaged bearings, Lewis dozed off.

"Wake up, Berserker," Lewis heard, feeling the thump of Creeley's fist against her thigh.

"We're here," Creely said as Lewis yawned and stretched as best as she could with all of her gear weighing her down.

"DISMOUNT DISMOUNT DISMOUNT!" She could hear Stillwater yelling. "Take the tents over there where the engineer tape is. Stokes, Cromwell, take the Meeps over there!"

Lewis climbed out, getting hung up for a second on the hooks on the tailgate but managing to get loose just before Creeley almost kicked her in the face. She jumped down and turned around to see Stillwater standing there.

"You two, start carrying the camo nets over there," He snapped, pointing. Lewis looked over to where there were two big circles marked with the white cloth strip that everyone called "Engineer Tape" for some reason. There were two light sets already set up, the big halogen lights lighting up the field that was usually called the "Back 40".

The sound of rotors made Lewis look up. Three Blackhawk helicopters roared in, hovering over the field. Lewis could see Gilly run over and start waving a flashlight over her head.

Lewis helped wrestle several of the camo nets out of the back, grabbing the smaller one. She was surprised at how light it felt. When she first got there, when she'd helped bring in the new camo nets, they were heavy. She was staggering, carrying one of the heavier camo nets.

"Heeeey, Berserker, what's up?" Newsome said, running up and grabbing the other end. "Lemme help you."

"When did you get back from Air Assault?" Lewis asked.

"Tonight," Newsome grinned.

Lewis looked around.

"What the hell is going on?"