Page 3 of Tracking the Alpha
Their entire section, under Captain Barrett Wilson’s command, had received the order to present themselves to General Davidson, but they’d not been told why, which led to the soldiers throwing out theories.
“Think we’re finally going to get deployed?” asked Slater, breaking the silence permeating the room where they’d been told to wait.
“I already told you, I have no idea,” growled Barrett for the umpteenth time. He’d not known the first time he’d been asked as he barked at them all to tuck in their shirts and be ready to move out. Nor had he known the fourth time when jogging up the stairs. Nor the seventh as they’d been told to wait until the general was ready to see them. A clueless Barrett really wished he had an answer because this kind of summons didn’t usually occur without a hint. Were they in trouble? About to be commended? Getting bad news?
“Think this meeting has to do with the intense medical screening they put us through?” questioned Freya. The most petite member of their section had been the only one to cheerfully submit to the battery of tests. Bloodwork, tissue samples, measurements of every kind known to medical science that went beyond, height, weight, and blood pressure.
“Must be for something special,” drawled Radley. “I mean, why else make us fill out that questionnaire that wanted to know everything about our personal lives?”
Another oddity. It wanted them to indicate every medical ailment and procedure they’d ever undergone. Had them list every member of their immediate and extended family, whether dead or alive, and then also asked their medical history. Barrett’s didn’t take long. Orphaned at a young age by drug-addicted parents who died of overdoses. No family to take him in. As for his own history, the only time he ever ended up in the hospital had been for a broken arm skateboarding. He'd always been healthy.
“As if anyone can remember every single time they got sick,” Slater remarked.
“I just put from age six to twelve,” Gage added with a laugh. He joked about his heart issue as if it were nothing, and yet Barrett knew it had been a tense time, as he’d almost died several times until the operation that fixed his irregular heartbeat. Gage had only barely managed to get accepted into the military. Blame the loosening of certain regulations given the low sign-up numbers.
“At least you guys didn’t have to do the entire section on periods,” complained Zendaya, her full lips pursing in annoyance.
“I ran out of room when it asked me to list sexual encounters,” bragged Phoenix, the section’s Casanova and lieutenant.
“Bet you needed an extra page to list treated diseases too,” muttered Idris, the most serious member of their section, who rarely engaged in banter but when he did...
“Hey, I’ll have you know I always wear a rubber!” exclaimed Phoenix.
“Says the guy who panicked just last month when that chick you hooked up with claimed she was pregnant,” retorted Slater.
“Which turned out to be a scam,” Phoenix reminded. “She was already prego when we did the tango. She was just looking for someone to pay for the kid.”
Barrett pinched the bridge of his nose as the discussion devolved. “Enough. We’re supposed to be patiently waiting. Next person to speak is gonna drop and give me fifty.”
And what did those assholes do?
Everyone but Idris hit the floor and began pumping them out so they could continue to rag on each other. Barrett really needed to find a more effective discipline measure.
The thick wooden door opened, and Major Stevens poked his head out, sending the section scrambling to their feet to stand at attention. There was rustling as everyone saluted, including Barrett.
The major’s lips pursed. “The general will see you now.”
Barrett marched first into the room, set up boardroom style with a long table flanked by chairs on one side only. He stopped a few feet from it and snapped a salute. His section fell into line behind him, and the click of heels let him know they followed formal military protocol even though most of the people in the room appeared civilian.
Not that it mattered, seeing as how the stony-faced general sat amidst the men and women wearing white coats.
Major Stevens shut the door and took up a position to the left of it. Silence fell as those seated eyed Barrett and his section.
General Davidson—with a reputation for being a hardass and a bit of an asshole—barked, “At ease.”
As his feet spread shoulder width, Barrett dropped his hands behind his back, adopting a more relaxed pose, which belied the tension he couldn’t shake. Why did the general want to meet with them? And why were so many doctors present? Had they picked up a bug on their last mission? It seemed unlikely, seeing as how they’d been at the Petawawa base now for more than a month.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been summoned,” General Davidson said. “And I will get to that in a moment. First off, it goes without saying that nothing we speak of today leaves this room. To ensure that isn’t an issue there will be no outside communication at all.”
“None?” blurted Takhi, the shyest in their group. “But my mother?—”
“Will be notified that you are currently unavailable, which I will remind is normal given your line of work,” the general snapped, interrupting Takhi.
Barrett didn’t need to see her face to know it would be stiff and fighting tears. Takhi had learned her mother was in hospice with stage-four cancer, and she’d just submitted her compassionate leave request so she could be with her mother for her final days.
The general drummed his fingers on the table. “I will graciously forgive the outburst, but understand right now, I will brook no other interruption. As it is, count yourself lucky that amongst all the sections tested, yours proved the most promising. A blend of the sexes as well as racial backgrounds that will give us just the right amount of variety.”
At the strange choice of words, Barrett fought to keep his brow from creasing in a frown. Since when did variety matter on a mission?
