Furious Misfortune: Overture: Crucible of Change, #1.5

By Noelle Alladania Meade

When the oddballs of Zeta Company are assigned to guard a top secret research facility they assume it's just another in a long line of crappy punishment details. This time they're wrong. Someone needs to salvage the situation and prevent an imminent global apocalypse. Unfortunately, they were brought to the assignment about a month too late. Now they have to win the hearts and minds of both hostile and amorous scientists. They are the only men for the job.

A chimpanzee who throws exploding poo. Tunnels filled with flying rats. A nymphomaniac Troll. And nobody wants to milk the Chupa. Zeta Company has finally found a home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beasthold Books
• Release date: Dec 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393330561

Noelle Alladania Meade

Noelle usually has several irons in the fire at any given time. She likes to spend her time reading, writing, crafting, running two online shops to sell her crafts, and gaming. Life took a turn for the quirky in 2000 when she had her daughter, who turned out to have autism. As a child, her ambition was to be the first woman President of the United States. When she got older and learned more about politics, she recovered from that particular insanity. Her teens were spent on historical romances, science fiction, fantasy, and writing angsty poetry. In middle school, she had her first introduction to tabletop gaming in the form of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. As she explained to her dad, with all seriousness, it gave her the chance—as a terminally shy person—to try on different personalities and experiment with being a stronger person. From the time her daughter was born until mid-2014, Noelle worked out of her home providing IT support for a small local software company. She’s finally working in an office again as an administrator, and rather likes it. It’s nice to spend the day around adults who are mostly grown-ups.

Book preview

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Steve, Danny , and Don for their valuable information as military veterans and the quirks of those in Special Forces. All mistakes and embellishments are my own.

Crucible of Change Series

Forging Day

Furious Misfortune: Overture (Companion Book 1.5)

Family Values

Furious Misfortune: Stolen Treasure (Companion Book 2.5)

California Dreaming

Dungeon Raiders

Dancing with Dinosaurs

Chapter One

New Assignment

It was only nineteen hundred hours local, but it felt much later when Zeta Company arrived at their newest assignment. The windows of the transport had all been covered, and they emerged into a windowless hangar.

Casanova wrinkled his nose at the stale air. Damn! Who’d you piss off this time, Skippy? They finally trying to sink us for good?

I’m mortally offended, was the response. Just because no one else wants this gig is no reason to assume I did something wrong. I truly believed the general’s wife would enjoy the inflatable companion. Skippy grabbed his duffle. This way, you dumb fucks.

The other six men grabbed their duffle bags and followed him down the wide metal staircase spiraling into the earth. A slight breeze blew up through the metal stairs, and the air was cool and smelled faintly of damp concrete. The staircase emerged onto a landing next to an open-top electric tram. Skippy gestured at the waiting tram. This is the STET—the Subterranean Electric Train. It will be our primary means of transportation around the facility. I have also been instructed by the general to inform all of you that the STET is not to be used for joy rides or ridden while intoxicated.

Casanova grinned. Come on! I bet I could surf this fucker drunk and blindfolded.

Skippy got that certain wicked look in his blue eyes. Bet you can’t.

Oh, it’s on, Skippy. They fist bumped and dropped into their seats.

The STET had six rows of plain metal bench seats. Two men could sit on each bench as long as they were friendly. Their duffle bags went into either of the open trailers attached to both ends of the car. The whole thing was painted olive drab, and the paint on the seats was worn with use, dull metal showing through the edges.

You going to tell us why all the secrecy, Skippy? Deadeye asked.

We’ve been invited to a meet and greet with the men we’re replacing, and they’re to fill us in on the particulars of this detail. The general felt our location and mission should remain classified until after our arrival. You’ll just have to be patient.

We’re in Colorado, Bo said. Some place called Underhill. Don’t you have family in these parts, Casanova?

Casanova glanced at Skippy with narrowed his eyes, looking less golden-haired boy next door and more dangerous military man, while Skippy gave a long suffering sigh.

Sorry, Skippy, Bo continued. I had to pass the time somehow. Flying bores me and there’s never enough room for my legs. Decided to research our new gig. We’re babysitting a bunch of crazy scientists under an old military facility.

Next time, skip the blow up doll and get her a quality vibrator, Casanova said. Maybe we’ll get Hawaii for a rotation.

Glory grinned happily. Hawaii...I love me some island girls. Remember that one chick? I had her singing the glory hallelujah. She could have sucked a golf ball through a garden hose.

How’d the date go, Tiny? Casanova asked. That blonde looked like she was ready to take you right on the pool table.

The usual. Tiny blushed nearly as bright as his red hair. "All signs were good. We got to her place. We had tone. And when I opened the pod bay doors, suddenly she’s all shy and talking about too beaucoup. I’ll be lucky if I ever get laid again."

Casanova patted his shoulder. Damn. Sorry to hear that, dude.

Skeeter shook his head. "You have to take it slow. There’s no such thing as too beaucoup."

You’re doing it all wrong, Tiny, Glory said. First you worship her until she screams. Then you rock her world.

Tiny looked glum. That may work with you, Glory. It doesn’t work with me.

Glory smiled knowingly. Practice makes perfect, Tiny, and the ladies are more than happy to let you log that kind of flight time. If you love what you’re doing, they’ll know it. The STET coasted to a stop as Glory described his favored oral techniques in exhaustive detail and made obscene gestures with his tongue for emphasis.

Skippy stood up, grabbing his duffle bag. All right, ladies. We’re here. Follow me upstairs. We’re going to the conference room on the right. We’re supposed to get maps and our bunk assignments during the briefing.

The men ambled up the stairs. The walls of the hallway probably used to be white. It was difficult to tell. Closed doors lined the hallway as far as they could see.

The first door on the right opened into a large conference room with beige walls. The ten men already inside stood. Their uniforms and grooming marked them all as regular army. Zeta Company, laughing and joking, jostled their way in. Other than Glory they were mostly scruffy—all dressed in jeans paired with a variety of wildly offensive T-shirts. One of the regular army men hesitated, looking from person to person. I’m Staff Sergeant Royce. Which one of you is Major Parker?

Skippy raised his hand. Guilty as charged.

Staff Sergeant Royce visibly stiffened before snapping off a salute. Skippy made him wait just a beat too long before finally returning it with a sigh.

We’ve prepared a full presentation on the scientists you’ll be working with, as well as a review of the procedures the facility personnel are expected to follow, Royce said. We can begin as soon as your men take their seats.

The men of Zeta Company slouched around the perimeter of the room. Deadeye drew a wicked looking stiletto and proceeded to clean under his fingernails.

Skippy waved him off. That’s okay. Just leave us the packets and we’ll be fine. I’m sure you and your men would be just as happy to get on your way.

Royce stiffened. The general insisted we deliver the presentation.

Skippy casually scratched his nose with his middle finger. We won’t tell if you don’t. Consider your presentation delivered, Sergeant.

Royce clenched his jaw and turned back to his group. All right. You heard them. They don’t need anyone’s help. We’re moving out. He looked back over at Skippy. Shouldn’t a major be doing something besides babysitting Zeta Company?

Skippy smile blandly. Nope.

I told you they were the biggest fuck-ups in the service, was heard as the last man departed the room.

Chapter Two

Lay of the Land

E verybody grab a packet , said Skippy. Read ’em later. Let’s learn the lay of the land. Get us a proper map of this place and impressions of any of the denizens you encounter. We’ll meet back here in an hour. Be friendly. And keep the pod bay doors zipped.

The men fanned out. They’d know what was worth knowing about the base soon enough. Skippy settled into one of the conference room chairs, feet up on the table. He was surfing the Internet when the door swung open and a uniformed man came in. Skippy started to get to his feet and the new arrival waved him down.

At ease. So what did you do to get Staff Sergeant Royce’s panties in a twist? General Delancy asked as he took a seat.

Nothing much, sir. I saw no point in listening to his dog and pony show. If he hadn’t pissed off Doctor Fowler in the first place we wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d rather gather my own intel. I trust my men over any yardbirds, Major Parker said. Anything Royce’s group has to say about the scientists is bound to be biased.

General Delancy sighed heavily. "You’re right about that. I knew relations were strained, but I hadn’t realized to what extent until