The Companion: The Companion

By Roger L. Perkins

Former special operator, Dale Parker, did not expect his life would change from one of comfortable retirement to being back in the harness and fighting a tyrannical and fanatical enemy from another planet just... like... that. But it did after just one snow storm in the mountains of Utah. Soon he found himself knee-deep in old secrets, high tech, and an implacable foe.  Add in an empire with deep ties to Earth, a beautiful Imperial Marine with a secret, her brother, and a dog and you have a story of action, adventure, and romance. Plus some humor! Can Dale and his comrades save the Empire and Earth? Or will they fall to a dedicated enemy bent on slavery and ruin? It kinda depends on alot...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roger
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393158646

Roger L. Perkins

The author is retired Army with 21 years as a noncommissioned and commissioned officer working in Special Forces and conventional assignments world-wide. After retirement he worked in higher education as an educator and administrator. He has earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Social Science, a Master of Arts degree in International Relations/Strategic Studies (much to everyone’s surprise) and is a graduate of the US Army Command and General Staff College. He is currently living the good life with his wife and dog in North Carolina, having heartlessly abandoned his adult son and daughter in Utah for life as a Southern Gentleman. The Companion is his first novel.

Book preview

Chapter One

The snow was coming fast and thick in Sardine Canyon in northern Utah as Dale Parker drove home. He’d been to Hill Air Force Base in Layton, Utah for groceries and thought he’d beat the storm and get back to Logan before it broke. He was wrong. The weather didn’t bother him. As a soldier he’d driven in worse conditions in the past.

His truck was handling the wind and snow just fine as he made the turn into Logan at the bottom of the canyon with the snow picking up as he entered the valley. The storm was blowing south into Cache Valley, out of Idaho, as usual. This was starting to look like it would be a lot bigger than forecasted. But Hell! That’s Utah during the winter—you just never know. Sometimes they hit hard, sometimes they don’t. He’d just have to see how it played out. It had been that kind of December.

Sade played on the CD and the heater was cranking out the BTUs. His large mixed breed dog, Kita, sat in front of the vent and sucked in as much warmth as she could. I swear, for being part Malamute you hate being cold! But open the door and you’re all over the snow. He scratched the dog’s ears and got no response. Some retired war dog you are! Dale had adopted her from the Army when he’d gotten out. She’d done a tour in Afghanistan with his team and they’d bonded after her handler had been killed on a prolonged mission, his last one before retiring. They became a team so he bought her out when he retired. She was seven years old but still a pup in some ways.

Maybe forty minutes until he pulled into the drive and took shelter from the storm in the cabin. Longer if it got worse. He turned his music up louder. Smooooth operator...

The cabin was up a small canyon East of town that he’d inherited from his grandmother. He wasn’t from Utah or a Mormon, two important things in this small town, but his grandma did love him! He had done 20 years in the Army, mostly in Special Forces and mostly as an officer, retiring just a year earlier at 38 years old, a major with a good retirement that let him shop in the military commissary, provided cheap healthcare and a good sized nest egg to augment that monthly government check. That helped him remodel an old shack into his dream cabin up Grandma’s canyon. She’d bought the property when her and grandpa were young, and they’d developed it over the years. Dale had been there a lot growing up, so he knew the woods and the surrounding area like the back of his hand. They were long gone but Dale inherited the place and had slowly improved it over the years. Completely new cabin, a deep well, septic tank (hated 2-holers!) and other enhancements. Now it was a pretty nice, if kind of secluded, up-scale-ish log cabin in the woods.

Eventually he negotiated the narrow, snow covered dirt road up the canyon and pressed the remote on the visor to open the garage and turn off the security system. Kita woke when she heard the click. She knew she was home. Snow was already piling up against the walls as he eased in and closed the heavy-duty garage door. The lights came on as he pulled all the way in. He’d built it deep so he could unload with the door closed and, on nights like this, he was glad he did.

After he unpacked and started a fire in the hearth he fed Kita, who ate and promptly curled up in front of the fire. He nuked himself some chicken fettuccini, poured a glass of nice chianti and ate dinner. The wind howled outside as the storm settled in for a long, hard blow. He ate and watched the fire with the lights off. The large window to the front showed the snow piling up on the porch and he just loved it. When it rained you just got wet. When it snowed everything ended up beautiful! Tomorrow, if it cleared up, he’d slap on the cross-country skis and do a little touring. But right then it didn’t look like it was going to get any easier. He loved storms like this.

He cleaned up his dinner mess then poured two fingers of 10-year old Bushmills whisky with exactly one ice cube into a glass, put on some music, and settled in to watch the storm and do a little reading. Then he remembered that there was something going on in the news before he put Sade on driving home. Good thing about cable is it doesn’t go out with bad weather. Usually. He turned on his TV and watched the national news. A very pretty, long legged, blonde newscaster with too much eye make-up was just finishing up a piece about the economy but the ticker on the bottom was talking about some ‘sightings’. The blonde transitioned to that story next.

In national news, social media was on fire today talking about the sightings in the air late this afternoon outside of Boise, Idaho. Several – I have to say it – UFOs were seen to be flying over the city just at dawn. Reports say there were two large objects and one appeared to be attacking the other! Honest folks, I didn’t make this up! The one allegedly being attacked flew on towards the East and the other one reportedly shot straight up and disappeared in the upper atmosphere. An Air Force representative out of Mountain Home Air Force Base in Idaho issued the following statement... ‘This week elements of the 127th Fighter Squadron were conducting exercises across the Washington-Oregon-Idaho area and... Click to the Guide.

Nothing there. Dale thought. I swear some people will build a crisis out of anything. Just an air exercise and some flares probably. He quickly looked at what else was on but wound up shutting it off and went back to his book, his Bushmills, and the fire. Around 11:00 Kita got up and moved into the bedroom to her place next to his bed and Dale got up to follow. He checked the house alarm again to make sure it was on before turning in. He had re-armed it when he first got in the house but checked it anyway. He wasn’t paranoid, he was just careful. That’s why he also kept several firearms around the house. Some old team guys acted like they were personally under threat from every terrorist organization in the world and kept an armory handy. Dale kept a Colt 1911 .45 in his nightstand, had a nine mm Sig as a concealed he kept in the truck, and an old M-4 over the fireplace. That was more of a memento but it did work. He kept a couple mags on the mantle with hollow points and was a frequent visitor to the range to keep his shooting up. Taxpayers spent a lot of money to give him those skills—only seemed fair to keep them sharp. There may also be a shotgun in the kitchen broom closet as well. OK, maybe a little paranoid. But not a lot and he did live three miles into the woods up a canyon. And he was a former Special Forces officer. He LIKED guns!

He turned off the lights and he and Kita went to bed. Outside the storm continued to drop snow at a steady rate. There was already two plus feet down and it didn’t look like it was letting up. The wind and the creaking of the pines lulled both of them to sleep. The dog snored. Dale did not. Or so he thought.

At 0600 Dale woke up, as was his habit. ‘Stand-to’ (waking up early to stand to guard) had been ingrained too well during his time in the Army and apparently it was sticking around into retirement. He got up and felt the chill that had crept into the cabin during the night. He put on some sweats, slipped into his boots, and moved into the front room. He stoked the fire up into a pretty good blaze while Kita jumped into the warm spot on the bed Dale had left and dug into the blankets like a tick. Dale threw a Kona into the Keurig and looked out the kitchen window to the meadow behind the cabin. It looked like it had finally stop snowing at about three feet. There was still a full moon lighting the ground, but the sun would be up in a couple hours. He wouldn’t get direct sunlight until well into the day. He stared out the window for a time, just enjoying the quiet. Kita eventually schlumped into the kitchen, squinty-eyed, to get her breakfast which, of course, came first. After that Dale went to clean up himself.

Showered, shaved, and dressed in a V-neck sweater, jeans, and warm socks Dale came into the kitchen to cook his own breakfast. It was brighter and everything still looked beautiful. There was enough light to see the tree line behind the cabin. He kept it clear for fire safety and so he could get some kind of view from the kitchen. Deer and even the occasional moose had been known to amble through from time to time.

He liked a big breakfast and usually skipped lunch, so he scrambled a half dozen eggs, threw some bacon and hash browns on, whipped up some white gravy, some toast, poured a second cup of coffee and settled down to eat. Everything was covered with gravy, as God intended it to be. He could always run it off later, though that was getting harder as he edged up to forty. Kita laid under the table and dozed off again, but Dale knew that if anything came within a half mile of the cabin she’d alert. She was just that kind of dog.

He finished with breakfast and the dishes went into the washer while another cup of coffee got cooked. Dale sat at the table taking in the beauty of the forest after a good snowstorm. Life was good.

Then Kita alerted.

Now, Kita was a smart girl and a good soldier. With deer she was playful. Ears forward, stupid smile on her face, tongue hanging out. Deer were her playmates and she’d play tag with them all day long on the meadow behind the cabin. With a coyote or bear she was a little more business-like. She’d growl a little and move to the door or to the opening of the deck and stand guard. If she saw them, she’d bark. These were intruders. With a person she’s like she is with deer but still on guard. And they usually came by way of the front door, not the back. If Dale didn’t act worried, she was fine and everyone’s a friend.

This time was different. Her hackles went up and she went into a crouch, ears flat against her head. She slowly moved to Dale’s right side, observing the snow-covered deck and growling in what Dale called her ‘work voice’. A deep, threatening, malignant rumble from deep in her chest that passed the message that she was not fucking around, and Dale should not either. This was trouble. She’d only done that once when a tweaker had tried to break into the house about six months ago, but it was memorable watching the doper run down the road when he first heard the ‘work voice’. She was doing that again and had her laser eyes on the tree line across the meadow where early morning fog was still hanging low. Like any soldier, she can never really put the instincts away. Dale trusted her so he did a quick visual scan then, also slipping into ‘work mode’, quickly moved into the living room, took the M-four off the mantle, slapped a 30-round mag in, and racked the charging handle back, chambering a round. He put the rifle on Safe. He also picked up the spare mag, slipped back into his boots, and returned to the kitchen where he could observe. He had some binos on the window ledge over the sink to watch wildlife and he picked those up, stepped back into the kitchen, away from the window, to be less visible, and watched. Using the binos he scanned the tree line while Kita rumbled at the door. They waited and he didn’t feel paranoid at all. Just really, really careful.

After about three minutes, Kita focused on one spot in the trees and went silent. Dale knew what that meant so he followed the dog’s gaze and could not believe what stepped into the meadow.

Chapter Two

It looked like something out of Star Wars. Round, dull-black, and walking on two mechanical legs. Clearly a machine, there was a small but dense tendril of smoke coming from the back. As it smoothly walked toward the cabin Dale quickly accepted what he saw and looked for weapons. He couldn’t see any but then who knew? In the back of his mind, where he multitasked, he figured it was a military project that had gotten lost from... somewhere. Looking at Kita, however, was a different story. The dog, still at her alert position by the sliding door, had laid down and went to sleep!

COME ON! A friggin’ robot is coming up to the house and you’re SLEEPING?! Dale whispered in outrage. But the dog did not look alarmed and, with Kita, that was important. But Dale still stayed alert and armed. And more than a bit apprehensive as he tried to not succumb to his imagination but stay focused on the here and now.

Taking the dog at her word – a little—Dale moved to open the sliding door and move out onto the snow-covered deck. He also made sure he had a round in the chamber, though he doubted it’d do much good. Keeping the rifle low and aimed at the walking bowling ball he moved to the rail as the machine stopped in front of him, about three feet out from the edge of the deck, and sort of wheezed. Dale took the rifle off Safe.

And damned if a hatch didn’t open on the top and two very human hands appeared and pulled a blonde young man in a rumpled grey coverall out. OK, yeah, he’d been thinking ‘alien invaders’ in a corner of his mind. Tentacles and stuff. Get over it. Nonetheless he kept the weapon loosely pointed at the machine and the obvious crewman.

The stranger pulled off some sort of head cover, ran his fingers through his longish hair, and spoke to Dale. But not in English. Special Forces operators are all language trained and Dale was no exception. He spoke Farsi, Azari, German, and Spanish as a survival thing. (He did eat fast food and wanted no confusion over his order.) He also spoke Hebrew. Damned if this wasn’t pretty much like Hebrew.

‘Morning friend! Sorry to bother you but this thing is broken and you’re the only person around. Please don’t shoot me!" He smiled and raised his hands.

Morning, Dale said in Hebrew. The man was speaking an off dialect, but it was close enough to what Dale was speaking to cause his eyes to round out and his mouth to drop open. Want to tell me what you’re doing here? Then I’ll decide if I shoot you or not. Dale smiled a little, but the threat was still there.

Chara! You speak the language! Are you Jewish? The surprise was genuine, and the dialect was an old one for Jews. One not in use today, near as Dale remembered. He’d learned it at DLI (US Army Defense Language Institute) for fun while learning modern Hebrew.

Nope. Just know the language. You from Israel? What the Hell are you doing in Utah and what the Hell is that thing? Looks broken. The rifle stayed pointed at the man.

Wow. This I didn’t expect. No. I’m not from The Land but I am of the Tribe. Can I put my hands down? Believe me, if I intended you harm it would be done by now. The young man’s smile was starting to slip as he noticed the muzzle of the weapon still pointed at him.

This made sense so Dale nodded and let the man put his hands down but kept the rifle aimed at center mass. His mind was churning about what exactly was going on and he wasn’t quite ready to relax his guard. The man climbed out of the hatch and dropped to the ground. As he dropped, he sank up to his hips in the snow that had banked against the deck at about four feet.

HA! THIS IS FANTASTIC! he exclaimed as he slowly moved to the stairs on the deck, swinging his arms and laughing. We don’t get this back home! Home. Where was that, Dale wondered? But he tracked the man as he made his way up the steps and kept his distance in case of trouble. That’s good right there, bud. Dale said, cautious enough to not let the man approach within five or six feet.

The man immediately froze and looked at the weapon, surprised that it was still pointing his way. His eyes traveled from the muzzle up to Dale’s eyes and back. Are you going to shoot me? he asked in a quiet, controlled voice but with an expression that showed he understood the situation.

Only if you do something stupid. Dale answered in an even tone.

Then I’m doomed because I always do stupid things. According to Riva anyway. What do I have to do to go indoors? I’m freezing. All I can say is I pose you no threat in any way. He looked hopeful.

Kita was standing at the glass door wagging her tail and smiling. Good enough. He nodded to the dog and said My enemy detector says your probably OK. Let’s go in. He dropped the muzzle but kept his hand on the weapon. Just in case. The man then noticed Kita.

OHMYGOD! Is that a DOG? He froze where he stood and just stared, open mouthed.

That took Dale by surprise as the man was obviously astonished by Kita. Well yeah. You like dogs? he answered as they moved to the door. The man hung back and let Dale enter first. Will it bite? he asked.

She. And not unless you do something stupid. Dale smiled as he said that. You act like you’ve never seen a dog before.

I haven’t. They’re extinct! His voice was high which indicated a level of stress or surprise.

Silence. Dale brought the weapon back up. OK. You’d better come in and do some explaining. First, what’s your name?

The man edged into the house as Kita shook hands dog style by sniffing his crotch and around his legs. Dale had pulled a chair out with his foot and moved to a place opposite the table to just observe, outside the man’s potential reach. He didn’t sit. The man stood stock still, looking not so much afraid as unsure. When Kita was done, she went into the living room and laid down in front of the fire to doze off. He seemed OK to her.

Dale made a decision. He pulled out a chair for himself, Safed and propped the M-four against the wall but close at hand. So. Name?

The man slowly sat down and stared at Kita for a bit before answering Asher. Segen Mishne Asher ben Aral. That’s a fucking DOG! The man had a fixation.

Yes, that’s a dog and her name is Kita. What did you mean...? Wait. Segen Mishne? Second Lieutenant? You ARE Israeli military then? Segen Mishne was the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) equivalent of second lieutenant, the most junior officer rank.

Asher pulled his eyes away from Kita and seemed to make an effort to bring himself back into the conversation. Yes. I mean, no. I’m Jewish and my people are all Jewish but we’re not from your Yisrael. I actually can’t tell you more than that and probably shouldn’t have said that much. I probably shouldn’t even have come up to your abode but things were getting pretty tense in the Walker and I had to shut it down someplace open to bleed off the heat or bad things happen. The AI is making repairs now.

Well, that just created a whole lot more questions. First what ‘bad things’ are you talking about? And what AI? This kept moving the needle on Dale’s ‘weird meter’ up the scale. He was trying to keep the idea of what this looked like tamped down but it wasn’t working really well. He was also moving on from questions he’d wanted to ask, like why he thought dogs were extinct. Larger priorities kept coming up. It was what was referred to as a ‘fluid situation’.

’Bad’ would be a crater about 100 meters across. But now that I’ve stopped, the AI will take care of it. AI means ‘artificial intelligence’ and...

I know what it means. How do you have one? Dale was really getting worked up about this and couldn’t get his hands on the scenario with his usually logical work mind. His outward demeanor, however, was still calm. It’s like when the village elder says something odd and you realize nobody in the room is remotely friendly and you don’t want to set them off.

Asher seemed to come to a decision. Major Parker, do you mind if I check in? This is getting beyond what I can manage, and I don’t want to get into trouble. He had a somewhat worried, yet intense, expression on his face that Dale had seen in second lieutenants before.

How do you know my name? he asked in a low voice. He angled his body to be able to grab the M-4 quickly and briefly lamented his lack of a handgun in his waistband.

We know about you and your service. Where you live. I was actually watching your place. Really, I’m no threat but if you feel better with the rifle, go ahead. But it’s far better if Riva explained it. She was going to come get you later anyway. The young man sat perfectly still, indicating that he understood the volatility of the situation he was in.

Yeah. That made him feel a lot better. What would your ‘checking in’ entail?

I’ll call Riva and tell her where I am. That I’m OK and that I’m with you. Then I’m sure she’ll be angry with me and tell me to do something but I’m not sure what. May I? My communicator is in the Walker, just outside.

Dale nodded his head. But don’t pick up anything else without letting me know or do anything suspicious or, no kidding, I will shoot you as dead as you’ll ever be. He picked up the M-4 again and, by the look on Asher’s face as he slowly stood up, he believed him. Ooookkkkk... he said.

Asher and Dale moved to the deck and over to what Asher had called a Walker. It was humming softly. Asher kept eye contact with Dale, reached into the still open hatch, keeping his eyes on Dale’s and making an ‘OK?’ face as he pulled out a round object. A mic? He spoke into it – Chaf Sofit 5 this is Chaf Sofit 2-1  – and did a pretty routine report while a typical radio operators voice answered. Hebrew alphanumeric call signs and all. After a short pause a woman’s voice came on and, without a doubt, did what Asher said would happen. Dale couldn’t make out the words but he’d heard the tone several times during his career. Asher was getting his ass chewed by his boss and he was taking it seriously. All he said was Yes Seren. Yes Seren." Hebrew for Captain. He also thought he heard the word for ‘phone’ but assumed that meant the communication system.

After several more ‘Yes, Seren’s’ he put the mic down and leaned against the Walker, visibly shaken.

I swear that woman can sear battle armor. Hopefully I have a career when this is over. His discomfort looked genuine since Dale had had the exact look several times in the past. Subconsciously he reverted to the Army’s SALUTE format for crossing t’s and dotting i’s. (SALUTE -Size, Activity, Location, Unit, Time, Equipment. A report format.)

How many of you are here and what exactly are you doing? Dale had not asked the basic questions he should have, being pretty much in a form of shock himself. Clearly this guy could (just ‘could’) be an alien. Like a not of this Earth alien. But then that was pretty farfetched. Damn, he hated ambiguity!

His cell started ringing at that point and Asher said, You should probably answer that, with a small smile on his face.

Dale moved carefully into the house, motioning Asher to follow, to where his phone was on the charger. As he got to the phone it stopped ringing. Then it rang again, Unknown Caller, and Dale answered it.

Parker. He answered in his usual way.

Hey Parker! Hear you have a pretty unusual house guest! said the familiar voice on the other end of the call.

Dale finally succumbed to complete shock. General John Johnson, the Chief of Staff of the US Army was on his cell phone. Shit. On a number of levels. Multi-level shit.

Morning, sir! To what do I owe the honor and how do you know who the Hell is in my house? It dawned on him that the comment made by the Chief opened yet another world of questions. The fact that Dale and he went back several years and two wars made it easier to ask. Damn ambiguity!

Sounding not at all amused General Johnson replied "Because I spoke with his higher a couple hours ago and again a minute ago. There’s a lot more going on here than you know. He’s going to invite you to go someplace with him and I strongly recommend you go. As of about five mike’s (Minutes) ago you were reactivated and assigned to a project we’ve had going for about twenty years. And that’s it on an open line. Go with the man and you’ll learn more later. The guy is not... local... but don’t worry about it yet. Clear? He was using his commanders voice so Dale understood he was screwed. He was back ‘in’. But damned if this didn’t sound interesting (Not ‘local’?) and it’s not like he wasn’t curious as Hell. He automatically replied with a skeptical Yes sir. and the phone clicked in his ear. JJ was always abrupt when he was stressed so he’d hung up when he was done, fully expecting Dale to do what he had been ordered to do. What? Reactivated"? Oh HELL no!

Asher looked at him with his eyebrows raised in question. So, are you coming? still with the smile.

I guess I am. It doesn’t...  HEYWAIT! How’d you know that? Were you listening in? How?

Asher pointed to behind his ear and said Comm implant. I only used the machines communicator so you wouldn’t get spooked. Riva thinks I’m stupid but I’m not that bad. This is an approach that was planned late yesterday in conjunction with your military. It just wasn’t supposed to be done by me. Sorry. He shrugged and seemed to relax some.

There were a lot of moving pieces here but, apparently having been recalled back to active duty, Dale had his orders. But he wasn’t all THAT trusting. Hell, he hadn’t been all that trusting when he had been on active duty before! But this was just so damned interesting!

He nodded once, told Asher to have some more coffee while he got ready, and dialed his cell. He called Rita, a friend with a German Shepherd, and told her he would be out of town for a week and asked if she would mind taking care of Kita. She and Kita were friends, so she agreed readily without a lot of questions. She and Dale were also friends, so she had the cabin security code. Next, he went to the bedroom and pulled an old ruck and some web gear out of his closet, put in a change of underwear, shaving kit, several boxes of .45 ammunition, and a couple of other things. He filled his canteens on his webbing from the sink in the bathroom (NEVER go to the field without water.) Then he changed into a set of ACUs (Army Combat Uniform) he had in the back of his closet, put on his boots, picked up the ruck, put on a field jacket and walked back into the kitchen. He stuck his Colt in the small of his back with a Bianchi holster to keep it in place. The M-4 didn’t seem to project quite the right image to carry to a meeting with aliens so it went back over the mantle.

Kita had her head in Asher’s lap while she got her ears scratched by a very attentive maybe space alien guy with a big smile on his face. Asher looked up and said, in a tone of wonder, We used to have dogs back home, but a virus killed all them off a long time ago. I see what the legends are all about now! She seems to sense what I’m thinking! He stood up but kept his hand on Kita’s head. Basic rule: Anyone Kita likes, Dale likes, so he relaxed some.

Yup. Just like women. You have those where you come from by what I heard, and they sound pretty much like the local ones. He made sure there was food and water for Kita, just in case Rita couldn’t get up for a while, and the two men moved out to the deck. She didn’t like being left behind and let Dale know it. Asher re-entered the Walker and did a quick check on something inside.

"AI’s done. I see you’re in a uniform now, but you probably won’t need that coat for the trip. My Walker has a field that keeps everything within a couple of ‘zeret’ (Approximately four feet) fairly comfortable without putting out a thermal signature. We carry troops frequently. See the foot holes in the back and this handle? He pointed out the features as he slipped back into the Walker. Just hold on here and don’t let go. There’s usually a strap but mine got lost somehow on the way here. We are ready to go. Oh! We won’t be able to talk since you don’t have a comm implant so just hang on. If you need me pound on the hatch. OK? Good!" With that, he pulled the hatch closed with a solid ‘thunk’.

Dale mounted the Walker, pounded on the top, hung on, and off they went at a smooth pace, the cabin rapidly falling behind. The ‘field’ also kept Dale from being hit in the face by limbs; they sort of moved around him. He found that if he slightly bent his knees and stayed close to the hull it wasn’t hard to stay on. Much like riding a horse, which he’d done before. And it was indeed fairly warm. He figured they were moving at maybe ten or fifteen miles an hour through the woods but it was hard to gauge. They went uphill, downhill, and around obstacles for about an hour before stopping. He tried to keep track of where they were and figured they were about seven kilometers from his cabin, on the other side of a ridgeline that ran parallel to the main mountains. He always measured distance in kilometers because that’s what Army maps used. He wasn’t familiar with the area but he knew where it was.

Chapter Three

As the Walker stopped in a clearing down in a small canyon and crouched, Dale stepped off and stretched to get the kinks out. Asher popped his head out and told him to wait where he was and someone would come to get him. He then moved off a short distance to an area that had other Walkers camouflaged into a hillside. Dale initially hadn’t noticed that when they came in so he took a long, careful look around in case he’d missed something else.

There were several camouflaged tent-like structures, not unlike the old DRASH tent (Deployable Rapid Assembly Shelter) the Army used to have for temporary shelters, about 30 meters away under some trees. About a dozen people, some armed, were moving around doing various things dressed in a grey one-piece coverall type uniform. Some were in a blue version. This was obviously a CP (Command Post) of some sort. Men and women moving with that efficiency only a combat Infantryman had. Walking at an even pace, weapon held easy, head on a swivel. And the weapon. It looked like a boxy rifle, about the size of an old M-16, dull grey in color. Easily recognizable as what it was. He noticed there was what he recognized as a bayonet attachment on the front. A work tool. Nobody wore any headgear.

A flap flew back on one of the tents and a tall, well-built woman with a ponytail strode towards Dale and she didn’t look happy. She was wearing a grey jumpsuit with green marking on the shoulders, three stripes denoting, more than likely, a Captain. Dale made a wild guess that this was the infamous Riva. He waited for her to approach and then said, wanting to control the meeting, Seren. I’m Major Parker, United States Army. He used his rank to set the tone until he knew what was going on. I was told to...

Yes, yes, yes. I know you were told to come here and I know you’re a major and a commando and retired and a lot of other stuff I don’t care about. Come with me to get briefed. She turned on her heel and walked back to the tent. Pretty much like Israeli women he’d met in the past.

Dale stood still. He wasn’t sure about the protocol but he wasn’t going to be bossed around regardless. It sets a bad example for future negotiations if you show weakness or a willingness to accept disrespect early from a counterpart. She went into the tent and turned to hold the door open for his absent body. Looking a little surprised she stuck her head out and said, You coming or not?

Sir, Dale said, in a conversational but firm voice.

Pardon me? She actually looked even more surprised than previously.

We address a superior officer, even from another military, as ‘Sir’. Just simple military courtesy, you know. Give it a try. He crossed his arms and moved into ‘asshole’ mode since that’s where she wanted to go with the follow me and do as your told routine.

She gave him a blank look then came back out, walked up to him, stopped and saluted with a clenched right fist to her left chest. Sir. I am Seren Riva ben Aral. If the Major would please accompany the Seren into the command post, we will begin your briefing. Sir! Third person! Oh, she was really pissed but also very correct. And, apparently, Asher’s sister. Or the name was very common. Dale now understood Asher’s previous apprehension. He also knew he had properly set the tone, which she did not like one bit. Maybe, like Israelis, they were somewhat casual about that sort of stuff. Dale usually was but he was meeting a foreign officer for the first time and it was important to have her understand that he was not her subordinate. Start hard and ease up later always worked. The opposite never did.

Thank you, he said, returning the salute American style and moved out in front of her, stopping at the flap for her to open it. He thought he could actually feel the heat of her anger as he passed close to her. "So — ’hearts and minds’ might be a little difficult at first," Dale thought as he ducked into the tent.

Inside was another shock in a day of shocks.

It looked a lot like any other TOC (Tactical Operations Center) he’d ever been in. Except WAY more modern. And