ARISEN, Book Eleven - Deathmatch by Michael Stephen Fuchs Read Free Book Online Page A

militia.”
    “No chance,” Henno said. “That’ll take too long. But more importantly, we need them. Is Britain more or less likely to stand with those Marines alive and operating? And the shore patrolmen and sailors? No, we use the assets we can spare.”
    Handon bristled at Henno’s casual euphemism. “They’re not assets, they’re children,” he said.
    Henno put his hands on the table, biceps flexing, and pinned Handon with his flinty eyes. “Yeah, mate, and it’s a cold hard fucking world. But here we are.”
    Handon worked to control his temper – to be the grown-up, and not escalate this into another showdown between the two of them. But Henno went ahead and escalated it anyway. He looked at the others around the tent, then raised his voice.
    “There are ten million tots back in Britain – and all of them are gonna snuff it, if we don’t get back there with this vaccine. You think I give a shite about a few jarheads or swabbies? No – I care about my whole nation. And those Marines can help save them. The villagers can’t – except by doing this one job for us. So they’re fucking well going to do it.”
    Handon moved slow and thought fast, trying to master his anger and keep the lid on. And he honestly tried to figure out whether he disagreed with Henno’s reasoning and conclusions – not to mention his morality, or lack thereof. Or whether it was just his ego rebelling, threatened by Henno’s pre-empting a decision that, as commander, it was his job to make.
    And on top of all of that, Handon also needed to figure out which was more dangerous – getting this decision wrong, or the team falling apart completely, and descending into full-blown civil war. A war for dominance between him and Henno.
    He could feel the eyes of everyone on him, as he steamed, considered – and agonized. Because underlying all of that was probably the worst moral dilemma he’d ever faced. He genuinely wasn’t sure he could send a whole village full of children to their deaths – to be eaten alive, in fact – whatever the stakes were, however much was on the line.
    Even to save the whole world.
    He was afraid this was a line he couldn’t cross. But he was equally terrified it was one he had to – a terrible moral decision he had to somehow find the strength to make.
    Henno pushed back from the table. “End of,” he said. As far as he was concerned, that settled it.
    Handon exhaled heavily and stood up. “Henno. On me.”
    And he walked out of the tent, not looking back.
    * * *
    In the little sangar, Kate and Pred watched Handon and Henno exit the camp, their body language broadcasting bloody murder.
    Pred shook his head. “Aw, hell, there they go again.” Like everyone else in Alpha, it had been impossible for him to pretend he didn’t see the simmering conflict between those two. Hell, he’d had to pull them apart when they came to blows in the last guard tower. Now it looked like they might be going at it again.
    Kate said, “This a regular thing with them?”
    Pred just shook his head and looked away. “I’ll give you ten bucks to stab me in the face right now.” Clearly, he didn’t want to watch this, or have any part of it.
    Luckily, Handon and Henno kept walking, until the forest swallowed them up. But they left a bad disturbance in the air they passed through.
    They were on a collision course.
    * * *
    “There are rules about bitching,” Handon said, stepping into the clearing, then turning to watch Henno stalk in after him. “Everyone has the right to bitch about a mission for five minutes. After those five minutes are up, you shut the fuck up and get to work.”
    Handon was giving Henno a lot of credit by suggesting he’d been complaining about the decision – rather than making a different one on his own, essentially wresting control of the mission. But Handon wanted to give him a chance to climb down from this.
    The two of them circled the edge of the clearing, keeping their distance.