True, he was paying for this out of his own pocket, at least until he could con Fuller into putting it on expenses, but even then it was nice to have a little splurge on how the ‘other half’ lived. It was all too easy to get into the endless rounds of combat and drinking, with nothing in between but partying hard in celebration of survival and hours of preparation for the next fight. The money in your personal account racked up because the clan paid for most things but sometimes you just needed to remember to live a little.
Even if it was only a brief interlude between company business.
His eyes strayed from the shapely behind of one of the female cabin attendants who was bending over to serve drinks to another traveler a little further down the aisle. The big screen at the front of the passenger lounge was showing a recap of the Clan War action, and it was always nice to see an article on the lower divisions rather than spending all their time on the big clans. Even better was the fact that it was the first round match up of his old clan Heroes II that had gone into overtime against Illuminati in division ten. The action shots and explosions ended and cut away to some of the participants being interviewed.
There was Pitstop, the new commander after Jay Dubya had been promoted. Word was he had gotten that slot not for his skill in the cockpit since he was reasonably far down the kill ranking, but rather for his cool head. He had shown it during the previous clan war when Jay Dubya’s comms unit had gone down in the final twenty and they were under pressure from a late counter attack. Pitstop had stepped forward and steadied the line, and they had held their nerve and a single victory lead to take the battle. That had probably held him in good stead because having to force a draw and win in overtime on your first battle as C.O. was a hell of a way to prove you had earned your command pips. He still had to learn some of the other intricacies of command however because he certainly didn’t look comfortable in front of the camera.
Not that it really mattered, because the lens seemed to want to spend more time on his team member and new ‘Top Dog’, Spike. Baby faced and with a groupie hanging off either elbow, he was joking with the interviewer. No doubt the girls would go wild over the boyish looks and his haircut which although apparently trendy, Mac reckoned looked more like a hedgehog was attempting to mate with his head. He grinned at the image and picked up his glass to toast the screen.
His mood was interrupted by an unexpected beeping from his wrist communicator. Frowning at the fact the caller I.D. was being blocked, he accepted the call and answered, “Yello?”
“Fuller here, is that you Mac?” came the tinny response.
Macs eyebrows raised before he responded. “I’m just going to pop you on hold while I get somewhere a little more private.”
He didn’t wait for a response before keying the hold facility on the comm unit. He glanced around and decided that the restrooms were about the only place he could talk without being overheard. Swiveling out from his chair, he made his way up the cramped aisle, resisting the temptation to brush a little too closely to the cabin attendant and excused his way past instead.
Only once he was safely inside the cubicle with the door locked and the indicator showing red for occupied did he hit the key again to resume the call. “Are you there General? I’m free to talk now,” then as an afterthought turned the basin tap on so there was just that little more background noise to drown out any possible snooping.
“Where the hell are you Mac? You sound like you’re in the john,” came the voice from the speaker.
Mac raised his eyebrows and smirked as he sat on the closed toilet. “Bearing in mind your first name, answering that question could be taken the wrong way on so many levels. However if my understanding of the intent of your question is correct, yes, I am indeed in the lavatory. It was the closest place I could get some privacy. How can I help you?”
The responding voice was curious. “Where exactly are you pilot?”
Mac considered for a moment before saying, “Bearing in mind that by now Jay Dubya will have informed you that I am currently examining our security protocols, answering that question could prove to be counterproductive, hmm?”
“Hmph… OK, I’m not happy but I’ll let it pass. Anyway, the reason for calling you is that Dave Linton of the Light Brigade has come in out of the cold to help with flushing Drake out of his latest hidey-hole. He’s less than impressed.”
Mac was honestly nonplussed and considered his own frown in the mirror as he spoke. “He’s alive isn’t he? What’s his problem?” he demanded.
“He’s not impressed with the security arrangements you left him with,” Fuller replied.
Mac sucked his teeth and gave a considered answer that he had already prepared for just such an eventuality. “I’m going to point out something here boss,” he stated carefully. “I’ve been over my contract with a very fine tooth comb and at no point did I come across ‘keeping people happy’ as any part of my job description. So bearing that in mind, and the fact that he is alive and well and not in Drake’s hands, what exactly are the issues?”
The voice from the speaker was more than a little testy. “Don’t be smart Mac. What instructions exactly did you give this... Karen? What did you tell her to do?”
Mac shrugged even though Fuller couldn’t see it. “Combat Momma? I told her to keep an eye on him and make sure he was safe... that’s about it. She seems more than clued up, she certainly looked like she understood what I meant so I left all the details to her.”
“Combat Momma? What the hell is all that about Mac?”
“Uh, look, that was probably my fault. She pulled me up on it as well. I used that on the comm channels one time and it sort of stuck,” Mac explained.
“OK, look, that’s not important,” Fuller dismissed. “It’s her conduct that bothers me, and it seems like it’s come from your orders, so I want some answers.”
Mac shrugged again and asked, “OK, what happened?”
Fullers voice became more business-like. “Linton’s made an official report. It started off fine, then he started getting uncomfortable with the way she was just staring at him, so he decided to step out for some fresh air.”
Mac thought about this for a second in light of the potential consequences of a target being seen out in the open. “Seems reasonable if a bit sloppy,” he said finally, “but OK, it’s not like he was under arrest.”
“Yeah, you’d think so, but she said he wasn’t to leave her sight. He tried getting her to stand down and she responded by chaining him to the wall in the basement.”
Mac glanced back up at his reflection and winced at himself. “Ouch. What did she do then?” he queried.
There was a pause from the speaker and Mac wondered if the connection had been dropped, but before he could check, Fuller responded. “She just got a chair and sat there watching him. Didn’t say a word, no matter what Linton said to her. She had an apple and used her combat knife to cut slices off it that she ate. After about an hour, Linton gave up trying to talk to her. Then nature took its course.”
Mac’s eyes when wide. “They didn’t….”
“Hell no!” Fuller blustered, realizing what he had possibly implied. “I mean Linton needed… a comfort break, so asked her… begged her to let him go.” There was another pause. “She made him stand in a bucket.”
If curiosity killed the cat, it was reported that Mac could commit genocide on the feline species. He just couldn’t help himself as he asked, “That sort of begs the question… what about when she needed…” and trailed off awkwardly.
There was a correspondingly awkward pause form the comm unit. “A comfort break? Oh, she left the room and sorted that out. She used her dog to watch him.” There was another minute pause, and Mac imagined Fuller was having to check his notes. “Said it was her familiar, and she could see whatever it saw.”
Mac was justifiably concerned at this news. People could be predicted, but animals always added an element of uncertainty into the mix. “Uh-oh… Look, I’m really sorry, I honestly didn’t know. I never saw her with a dog. What kind was it? Some big thing with fangs and red eyes?”
Again it sounded like Fuller was checking his notes. “It was in her handbag. Maybe fifteen centimeters tall, white and fluffy. She called it Mistress Foofkins.”
Mac looked at himself in the mirror with an extremely neutral face as he repeated, “Mistress… Foofkins.”
Fuller was starting to sound like he was justifying his junior commander’s report. “Linton said it just stared at him like it wanted to swallow his soul.”
“And she keeps it in her handbag…”
“Mac, just shut up… the guys traumatized…”
“By Mistress Foofkins…”
Fuller had raised his voice by now. “I said shut up Mac! Now what do you propose we do about her?” he demanded.
Mac was genuinely surprised and it showed in his voice. “Me?” he said incredulously. “I’m still failing to see where I come into this problem.”
“Yes you,” shot back Fuller. “You were the catalyst, you sent her there.”
Its right what they say about stuff rolling down hills Mac though sourly, but aloud he said, “Alright then boss, I have three options. First, Linton can just grow a pair. At the end of the day there are a certain type of people around who will pay top money to get the kind of treatment he did, so he can consider it an eye opening freebie on the company.”
Fuller’s voice had a deep tone of warning to it. “Don’t go there Mac… just don’t.”
Mac snorted in mild annoyance. “Ok, second suggestion. It’s an internal disciplinary matter between Linton and one of his Light Brigade pilots.”
There was a silence before Fuller responded in a somewhat embarrassed voice, “He doesn’t want to do that…”
“Why not?” demanded Mac hotly.
Fuller’s voice was so quiet that Mac was starting to strain to hear it. “Um… because he says she scares him,” was the eventual explanation.
“Oh for crying out loud,” Mac exclaimed in exasperation. “Fine then, third option. Buy him a pair of white fluffy slippers to help him get over his fear of her dog and then put it down to a case of ‘self-inflicted injury’, because he’s the one that hired the psycho!”
Again there was a pause from the other end of the conversation but when Fuller came back online his voice was remarkably chipper. “Never thought of it like that. Sounds like a very reasonable resolution. Hey, thanks for the help there Mac… Fuller singing off.” And with that, the comm connection closed down.
Mac sat there for a moment longer, staring in bemusement at the wrist unit, before regarding himself in the mirror. “I really need to review the company I keep,” he told himself. His reflection nodded in agreement.
Mac left the cubicle and returned to his seat for the remainder of the flight. Idly he wondered if the flight attendant kept a dog in her handbag…
Submitted by David McCallum # 701548