Chapter 25
" ...till Birnam wood do come to Dunsinane"
Most people quickly forgot that Dolf was thirteen years old in his presence. His language felt young, but he projected an older presence. He was nearly full grown at thirteen and muscular, and although he would never be huge- he was large enough. He was sitting cross-legged on top of the desk he had claimed from the former commander while the regular officers of the camp stared at him with a mixture of anger and discomfort. Ogre stood at the door- leaning against it and holding it closed. Ogre was ostensibly there to prevent interruptions, but the fact that he stood on their side of the door made the officers think he was there to intimidate.
"Al right my baboochkas let's talk freely here. A small banda led by my bratties- my half brothers- are dancing around us and shiving us every place we turn. The troops are creeped and workers are going missing- maybe kidnapped, maybe escaped. I want to blame somebody, and somebody wants to blame me. But when you cut this problem open and look at the keeshkas, you see that none of us get out of this clean. And worse, we all take the blame."
"Me, and my droogs are top notch hunters and raiders and everyone knows it. But this is our first command, and everyone is watching. You guys got to pick up the pieces either way when I'm gone. All of us have our asses out waiting to be shived, unless we turn this grazhny pile of crap into a victory."
Colonel Springbok was the former commanding officer of the base and now answered directly to Dolf. The Colonel was forty-five years old and wore a short moustache and a salt and pepper crew cut. He cleared his throat and began speaking.
"Everything you say is true. This simple question is how. The troops are as afraid of your men as the are of the raiders- and they are very afraid of the raiders. Not everyone gets trained at Fort Winterheart. These men are simple line soldiers. They are not up to the same standards, what do you want them to do?"
Ogre spoke, "They survived the pits. The tribes have no pits. Do they wish to bow to cowards and weaklings? Remind them who they are, make them angry, and then we may win."
The officers were silent at that. All of them had survived the combat pits of the Winter Wolves, it was a mark of superiority in the mind of any Winter Wolf. Other tribes allowed everyone to reach adulthood just by letting the years pass. The Winter Wolves had to fight for the right to reach adulthood.
"Your droogs aren't trained like my banda is trained. But my banda was weak when I found them. I shaped them from baboochkas with nothing, into killers who would shiv the devil himself. You baboochkas and your droogs can be made better, you've been through the pits, its just a matter of putting you all back in the pits to keep you motivated." Dolf was smiling now.
Colonel Springbok cleared his throat, "What does that mean precisely?"
"It means that I sent out a letter this morning. My father will receive it in about five days. It tells him to send a cleaner squad out in another five days if a secret signal isn't sent before then. Do you pony what I'm saying? If we do not solve this in less than ten days, this fort will not just be shived, it will be leveled and everyone on the duty roster will by hunted down and killed. My dad didn't want to send big troops here for a number of reasons. He won't be happy if he has to send them. He'll see see to it we all die- you, me, Ogre, these bratchnies we're fighting. He'll send napalm launchers and flame throwers and purify this place with fire."
The Colonel stared in horror, "That's insane!"
"Welcome back to the pits Colonel. Tell everyone what a crazy bratchny the commander is and what he's done to everyone if they don't kill these raiders. Tell the workers, their names and faces are on record too you know- the cleaners will find them too. Forget having them continue working, they scout for us now. We're all one big banda now, 'cause otherwise we all die. A viking funeral, you know."
No comments:
Post a Comment