The Recruit
By; Gerald A. Polley

 Chapter 4

    They ate for a while in silence, just smiling at each other.  Then Imal asked "What's a happening?"
    The commander looked up, startled, then smiled.  "Oh!" she laughed, "It's a miraculous event, something beyond the norm.  The Spir believe it's a sign The Lords are with someone, that they have special power.  I'm supposed to be credited with three of them!"
   Imal's eyes widened.  "Really?  Tell me about them!"
    "Well, if I have to!" the commander sighed, "I suppose I'd rather you hear about them than anybody else.  My very first mission was to advise the people defending a village against a rather nasty warlord.  Things were quite quiet until he decided to raid the village one night and reestablish his power.  The two of us ended up in hand to hand combat in the brush.  He just about had the best of me when suddenly a lion came out of the darkness, took ahold of him, and proceeded to rid the world of his nastiness!  It seems the commander had a passion for lion meat and had wiped out the whole pride except for this one old male.  I thought he was going to come after me next, but just came over to me and started rubbing me with his head.  When the others arrived he just trotted off into the night when he knew I was safe.  After that, any time we had a village council and I was seated in a chair the lion would come out of the brush and sit beside me!  Nobody argued with anything I said!  We imported six female lions and reestablished the pride.  The natives were all for it!  It simply wouldn't be their land if there wasn't any lions around.  He died the year before I left.  We buried him and put up a concrete lion marking his grave.  
    I wasn't in my new command a week when we were attacked one night.  A lightning bolt came out of  nowhere, struck one of the attacker's vehicles, sat it on fire, lit up  the whole field!  They didn't have a chance!  But their egos were too much for them to withdraw, and they were wiped out.  Just a couple of adults, the rest were children, 11, 12, 13 years old, that had been made to join the gang.  They called it a miracle.  I didn't sleep well for weeks.  
    Then, things got really bad.  The tribal rivalry got intense.  The stronger tribe was determined to wipe out the weaker one.  We retreated to a major village.  There were 2,000 of us defending the women and children,  the old men and women. There were 10,000 of them!  They came at us frontal assault.  But they did absolutely everything wrong!  They massed the heavy artillery where we could see it.  We deliberately took some shells as we fired our heat seeking missiles so the previous hits would cool down. We had just enough to take out all of their big guns.  Not one missile missed!  They went right down the barrels!  With their artillery taken out, our artillery could concentrate on their heavy armor.  We destroyed it all before any of it reached us, or got any effective fire on us!  Then with our shoulder held missiles to take out their light armor, it became hand to hand.  Our machine guns, our artillery until we ran out of ammunition cut them to pieces!  Our mortars and rocket propelled grenades kept up the carnage.  When it was over I had 160 people left out of 2,000, and we had 60 prisoners out of 10,000.  They called it a miracle!  I called it a slaughter.  I'm afraid I wasn't capable of handling a field command for awhile. Though everybody blessed me all I could think about was dear friends dying.  I got a letter from The First Speaker. He reminded me how many more would've died if the attackers had reached the village.  Everything he said made sense.  But still some of those men were in their 90s and they had believed in me, they had trusted me.  And they're all dead."
   Imal smiled. "I think they still trust you!" he sighed.  "How old are you?"
    "Just a little over 16," the commander answered.  
    "16?" Imal gasped, "You're only two years older than me?  Good Lords!"
    The commander smiled.  "In an army that's desperate for personnel those that show leadership ability are quickly advanced.  You'll find that out.  I'm recommending you for officer candidate school, as soon as you've finished your regular training.  I'd very much appreciate it if from time to time, you'd be my companion, spend the night.  I'll have to put another officer in charge of your affairs because of our relationship.  But if you don't mind, I like your style!"
    Imal looked at her, wide eyed.  "Well!" he managed, "I'm flattered!  But I would prefer not.  I'm  afraid I'm rather old fashioned.  I think I would much enjoy being your husband, but just a companion? No."
    "Husband?" the commander gasped.  "Well, I hadn't intended to be that formal.  There's something we'll have to discuss, something you have to know.  Give me a couple of days.  This is something I've got to think about.  There's only two years' difference in our ages, I don't think that's a problem.  It's not unheard of.  I'll have to get the base adjutant's advice.  Thank you!  Thank you very much!  I'm deeply honored!"
    Imal only smiled.  The cook brought out dessert when the commander rang a bell.  She looked at her curiously, and the commander remarked "He wants to marry me! We're going to have to work on it. There may be a problem."  
    The cook looked at Imal, smiled, and shook her head, returning to the kitchen.  After dessert Imal excused himself.  "I hate to admit it," he said "the company is very pleasant, but I am exhausted!  I really need to get some sleep and get things arranged tomorrow.  I would like to get the surgery as soon as possible so I can begin training.  I'd like to take advantage of that time to be a little bit better prepared for this officer candidate school."
    The commander smiled.  "I'll help set it up," she answered.  She summoned her aide.  "Escort this gentleman back to his quarters," she instructed.  
    "Yes, ma'am!" the aide snapped.  She led Imal outside and they started down the street.  Then Imal glanced towards the side of the house.  A shadow was going in a side window.  There was a startled cry.  
    "What the hell?" Imal cried, and started running towards the window, screaming to the aide behind him "Get help!"  In moments he was flying through the window.  In the dim light he saw a figure sprawled out on a bed.  A large man was kneeling over another bed saying "Now, my little treasure, we play!"  Imal took him by the throat and heaved him up.  They thrashed about the room for several minutes.  Then the man broke his grip and got free.  He turned around holding a large knife.  
   Glancing behind him Imal noticed he'd blocked the door with a chair.  He kept edging around the man trying to get to the chair, but the man kept coming at him.  Finally, he had ahold of the knife and they struggled violently.  Imal managed to kick the chair, freeing the door, but in doing so both him and the assailant went down.  Somehow the assailant landed on top of him and gave out a loud moan.  The man's weight was horrendous!  Imal could barely breathe!  Then hands were pulling the man off him.  Lights came on.  Imal found the commander pulling at his clothes.  "Is any of that blood yours?" she screamed "Is any of it yours?"
    "No," Imal answered, "no!  It's all his."
    A little girl's voice cried out "Mommy!  Mommy!"  The commander quickly rose and rushed to the small bed as Imal gained his feet.  The aide was kneeling by the bigger bed, crying.  Imal went over.  There was an older colored woman in it.  Her throat had been cut.  Imal looked back to the man on the floor.  "Son of a bitch!" he moaned.  Soldiers  ran in.  The commander was weeping holding the little girl.  For the first time Imal saw her face.  Her nose was dark and there was fur all over her face.  Imal blinked for a minute, the commander looked at him in distress and he simply smiled.  "Get that out of here!" Imal snapped, pointing to the man's body, "Get it out of my sight!  Get the lady to a proper place where she may lie in repose.  And somebody get me a clean uniform!"
   Several different voices snapped "Yes sir!" In moments the man's body was gone.  Imal went over and looked down at the child staring at him.  
    "Hello!" he sighed.  "I'm Muhammed.  I'm a friend of your mother. May I sit down?"
    "Yes, sir!" the girl answered.  
    Imal sat down, looked at the girl and then at the commander. "Lupine Syndrome?" he asked.  
    The commander nodded.  "Well, I must say I'm going to have the prettiest daughter around!  I'm gonna have a hard time keeping the boys away!"
     The little girl giggled. "Daughter?" she asked her mother.   
     "We're talking about it," her mother answered.
    "Oh!" the little girl cried, "Will I have brothers and sisters?"  
    Both Imal and her mother laughed.  "We'll work on it!" her mother answered.  "We gotta make sure it's acceptable first."
    "It better be!" the little girl grunted.  Everybody in the room laughed.  The aide came in carrying a pair of pajamas.
    "Come, sir!" she remarked.  "The doctor is here.  She wants you to shower and then she'll examine you.  Then we're gonna put you to bed."
    Imal got up and winced in pain.  "Good idea!" he managed.  "Still don't know how I did that!"
    He was showered, the doctor examined him, and said "Get a good night's sleep!  We're going to operate tomorrow morning.  Don't bother gettin' all dressed.  Just come over to the hospital in a robe.  Well  done, soldier!"
    Imal was put into bed.  A moment later the door opened and the commander and her daughter came in.  
    "It's a big bed!" the commander remarked. "May we join you?"  
     "I don't see why not!" Imal answered.  
    The little girl got in the middle.  The light was turned out and almost immediately Imal was asleep.  He woke in the morning to the aide whispering to him.  "Come on!" she instructed.  "Let them sleep a little longer."
    Imal was put in a robe, given a pair of slippers and taken out to a vehicle.  A  few minutes later he was being undressed in the hospital, an I.V. being put in his arm.  "Something's already been put in this," the nurse explained, "that will make you drowsy.  You'll get the main anesthesia in the operating room.  Don't worry. You're in good hands."  
    Imal found himself more than drowsy.  In a very few moments he was unconscious.


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