The whine of helicopter blades spinning up made Baines rise from the large desk and go out onto the balcony.  Sarge and four of his men were piling into the Pavehawk while the others were coiling up the hoses they had used to manually pump gas from the barrels into the tanks.  The Chinook was already lifting off.

"Hey Dan!" he called to Connors, who was waiting for the men to finish with the hoses.

He turned and ran to a spot under the balcony, "What's up?" he yelled.

"Any news?"

Connors shook his head, "I started getting something, but the choppers were starting and got too loud!" he replied, tapping at the wireless headset he was wearing.

"Get those guys going on their tasks, then come on up!"

"Right!"

Baines watched as the choppers lifted off, pivoted, and shot off toward the thin column of smoke they had seen while coming in.  He then returned to the pile of papers he had pulled out of one of Von Richter's six filing cabinets.
------------------------
"Well, let's get this over with!" Private Kyle Haldane said to Private Jeff Weller as they walked into the barracks area, "Where do you think we should start?"

"Let's try that one.  Building Seven." Jeff pointed.

Haldane nodded.  He went to the door, pushed it open, and went inside to a large lobby.  Two sets of stairs were on either side of the room, and three hallways radiated out from it.  He picked one hallway and went down to the first door to the right, opened it, and went inside,

Jeff followed him in and gasped when he saw the small bodies in the cots, still covered with thin green blankets.  Haldane was yanking the blankets off onto the center of the floor, "Ten cots." he grunted, not sounding pleased, "Ten bodies accounted for."

Jeff looked down at the dark haired child in the cot to the left.  "So young!" he thought guiltily.  The child's face looked peaceful, even happy, as if he or she had died while having a pleasant dream.

"You gonna keep track?"

Haldane's rough voice startled Jeff, "Umm, yeah." he said, pulling out the pen and notebook that the guy named Connors had given him.  On the first page, he wrote "Building 7", and a "10" under it.

He wanted to look at the expressions on the other faces, but Haldane was already leaving the room and going to the next one.
------------------------
"Now THIS is gonna be fun!" Private Rod Martingale said, grinning, as he shifted the backpack full of high explosives, "I hope they've got a LOT of shit to blow up!!"

"Well, don't blow it up until we've counted it!" his companion, Private Ben Shriver retorted cheerfully as they entered the firing range, "You know, the more shit they've got to blow up, the more shit we have to dodge when it comes down!"

"Yeah!" Martingale nodded, "as if we don't dodge enough shit already!"  He glanced at the targets and flinched, "Do you see what I see?"

"Holeee-" Shriver gasped, "That must be at least 75 meters!"

"Not just that!  Those are BB gun targets!"

"Hey, you think that Baines guy was scared of getting his hide shot full of BBs?" Shriver tried lamely.

But Martingale was already trotting across the field.  Shriver sighed and followed him to the targets.  When he had caught up, Martingale was looking at the target, "Yep, BB-gun targets.  Bullseye no bigger than your eyeball.  What were they expecting from these guys??"

"Maybe this might tell us?"  Shriver noticed a trash barrel next to the targets.  There was something funny about it that he couldn't place.  However, paper targets filled it three quarters full, and it was these that had attracted his attention.

"Good idea!  If they're anything like us, they'd keep the best for the records and toss the losers.  Hey!  Are you okay?"

Shriver was NOT okay as he pulled one target after another out of the barrel, and saw the same thing, "Holy Mother of God will you LOOK at these?" he croaked.

Martingale paled too, "Those look like holes from standard AK ammo!"

Shriver rummaged through the barrel, "I don't see anything with a hole outside of the second ring!  Jeezus Rod!  Their rejects were the ones who put two bullets into the second ring!  I don't see a target with a scatter bigger than a quarter!"

"Let's, uhhh, get on with our job, okay?" Martingale said shakliy, turning around.

Shriver was dropping the targets he had been holding into the barrel when he realized why the barrel looked so queer.

It didn't have any bulletholes.  Unlike the trash barrels at THEIR firing range.

Shaking as badly as his companion, Shriver followed, silently but fervently thanking the unnamed person who had decided to drop VX gas on people who didn't even shoot wild when they were rank beginners....
------------------------
"I'm not sure I'm going to like this job." Sarge thought as he glanced over the small village as the Chinook buzzed it, "Let's try landing over there!" he pointed.

The pilot nodded and the machine leaned into that direction.

"Get ready ya dogs!" Sarge yelled, privately deciding to disobey orders and leave the women and children behind, "Not enough room in the Chinook anyhow." he rationalized.
------------------------
"Getting something!" Connors said, sitting up stiffly and putting his hand over the earphone of his mobile headset to listen better.

Baines stopped looking through the sheaf of ammunition requisitions and concentrated on Connors.

"General info broadcast." Connors said, eyes focussed distantly, "Most targets found and eliminated.  Glow tubes confiscated.  Many more problems than anticipated accounting for highly prominent individuals-"

Baines nodded.  The outside infiltrators, called "Technos", were certainly highly skilled and intelligent, and tended to work their way into very visible and sensitive positions.

"Uh oh."

"What?"

"Heavy resistance and some casualties in Meridiana.  Not sure how long they can hold out while faking being the local police.  Reinforcements being rushed to them."

"DAMMIT!" Baines gritted his teeth, "I TOLD them Trodden would be a problem if he wasn't eliminated separately!"

"That's it." Connors shook his head, "Other than the situation in Meridiana, everything's going like clockwork."

"I dunno." Baines sighed, slapping the pile of papers on the desk in front of him, "WE'RE not getting anywhere!"
-----------------------
"WOOOWHEE!" Martingale exulted the moment the lights came on in the bunker-like armory.  Ammunition and explosives lay stacked around them neatly in tall, orderly piles, as far as they could see, "Whew!  This could stock a division for weeks!"

"Yeah!  Umm, where are the weapons?" Shriver asked, glancing around.

"You're right.  I don't see an-Hey!  There's a staircase over there." he pointed.

They went to the staircase that led down to a second level, even more spacious than the first, also filled with ammunition and barrels of chemicals, "Hmm, looks like they mixed and made their own ammo." Shriver observed, noticing the rows of benches with various tools used in hand-assembling ammuntion along one wall.

"Makes sense.  Probably had a lot of idle hands and that would save money.  Hey!  There's another set of stairs!"  Martingale indicated.  He went to it and pushed the sealed button to light up the next floor, "Ah!  The weapons are all down there!"

"Finally!"

"Whew!  These guys knew what they were doing!"

"Why?"

"The put the stuff that goes boom on top of the weapons.  If it was the other way, an explosion would have thrown the stuff into the air.  As it is, an explosion would just drive the junk into the ground.  With all the stuff they've got on the first two floors, we'll just be dodging pebbles!"

Both men ran down the stairs.
----------------------
"OKAY!  Lets get them loaded in!" Sarge said, waving the group of 22 natives toward the waiting Chinook.

"I ask you again, what do you want with us?"  One of them asked him.

"Mr. Elio, my boss just wants to ask you some questions.  You'll be fine.  And your families are not in danger from any wild animals."

"I know." Elio nodded, "Thanks to you and your planes."

Sarge did not feel very good about being a member of his nation's armed forces at that moment.
----------------------
"ALL RIGHT!" Haldane grinned, "Shoulda came here FIRST!"

"Okay, so how would we know they numbered all the buildings in birth order?" Jeff said, "Hey!  Ten cots, but that one's missing a body."

"That's the gal you croaked, buddy."  Haldane was pulling the blankets off the cots.

"Kyle, you just have to check for a head on a-"

"YESSS!" Haldane kicked the blankets into a pile, then tipped the cot with the girl so that the body fell onto the pile.

"What the hell-" Jeff gasped as Haldane got down and began to rip the shirt off the girl, "SHE'S DEAD, you pervert!"

"Ahh, go check the other rooms if ya don't wanna watch!"

"I'll do that," Jeff muttered, leaving the room, "Sick bastard," he thought.
----------------------
"Got anything yet?" Baines sighed, leaning back in the thick padded chair behind the large desk.

"Nah." Connors said, "Boy, Von Richter was a fanatic on their diet.  Worried about it all the time."

"Here's something!" Travis came in, waving a clipboard, "E-mail message from the head instructor, Dansk.  Found it on the nightstand in the master bedroom."

"DANSK??" Baines paled, "Colonel Friedrich Dansk?"

Travis glanced at the clipboard, "Yeah.  Who was he?"

"Oh, just the best damn trainer of soldiers the Fourth Reich ever had.  Youngest of the Old Guard, so never really got into being a Nazi.  He was in charge of several training camps."

"Was he any good?"

"We did an analysis a while back.  He trained about 20% of the German soldiers in the first three years of the Reich during their buildup phase, but they accounted for 43% of all the kills in combat.  We traced the last of his boys to Stalingrad, where they accounted for 35% of the Russian casualties."

Connors whistled, "What happened to him?"

"Too outspoken.  Eventually vanished without a trace.  So, the legendary 'Drill Instructor OF Hell' ended up here," Baines shook his head and glanced at the clipboard.

"Look at the last page first." Travis advised.

Baines read it, "Uh oh!  They were picking the first members of their officer and training corps!  Getting ready to transition to self-sufficiency," He read carefully, "Now, the one they call Seven looks good with a half dozen wins.  The next best only had two."

"Better keep reading." Travis advised again.

"Hmm.  Von Richter: What about Six?  I heard from Seven at the dinner table that she was in the finals in almost all the categories", Baines flipped the page, "Dansk: Herr Doktor, Yes, Six is exceptional, failing only to complete the 80 kilometer run when she collapsed from lack of sustenance.  Von Richter: So, why isn't she on the list?  Dansk: Herr Doktor, she would be in first place if we awarded points for position, but we did not, and it is not advisable to change the rules after the games are played.  Besides, she endangered her life by failing to watch her sustenance levels.  Her presence alone in command scenarios doubles morale among her subordinates, almost cancelling out Seven's superior tactical skills.  Being so popular, her death on the field would have devastated everyone.  I do not advise that such reckless disregard of her health and influence be rewarded.  Von Richter: We'll award points for position from now on.  In the meantime, I want her in.  What do you advise?"

"He never replied.  Look at the dates." Travis said.

"Yesterday.  We got them just in time." Baines said, feeling relieved.

"What's that 'sustenance' he was talking about?" Connors asked, frowning.

"Hmm," Baines wheeled around to look at the filing cabinets, "Let's skip to the 'S's, shall we?"

All three men went to the third filing cabinet.

A huge explosion suddenly shook the house.  All the glass in the windows shattered into thousands of fragments and flew into the room,  All three ran to the window as secondary explosions continued to shake the building, glass crunching under their boots.  Looking out, they saw an immense column of smoke boiling into the sky.  Flames shot so high, they were visible above the tree tops.

"Whew! I hope those guys got far enough away from THAT!" Travis said.

"Ahhh!" Baines waved a hand, "Two less loose ends to worry about!"
--------------------------
"WOW!  Do you see that Sarge?"

"Yeah, I do, soldier!" Sarge replied, "Keep your eyes on the prisoners!"

"Boy, I hope Rod and Ben got far enough away before that went up!" Another one commented.

"Martingale knows what he's doing." Sarge replied wisely, "Hell, the guy's probably having an orgasm right about now."
--------------------------
Jeff was glad he was in the hall when the explosion blew all the windows out of the rooms.  He continued up the third hall on the first floor, counting ten bodies in each room, "Done here," he thought, making his way back to the lobby "I saw the choppers coming back, Kyle!" He yelled, "Ya owe me two mess duties now, or I'm squealing, ya pervert!"

No answer, "Probably still occupied.  I ought to report him," Jeff thought irritably, glancing into the room and noting that the blankets were back on the cots, along with the body of the girl he was violating, "Hmm.  Smart.  Covering his sick ass by putting the body back in the cot.  Probably counting the rest of the bodies upstairs and looking for one closer to his taste." he thought, "HEY KYLE!  I'M DONE DOWN HERE!  YOU DONE?" he yelled back toward the lobby, hoping he wouldn't have to look for him:  Despite being a soldier, walking through a building full of dead bodies gave one the creeps.

He heard footsteps out in the lobby, so he picked up his pace and trotted toward the sounds.
--------------------------
"We're warm!" Baines said excitedly, scanning the notes, "Those glow tubes contain what he called sustenance.  A high energy liquid that seems to interact with their muscular systems."

"From the name, and from Dansk's e-mail, I would figure it was necessary to keep them alive." Connors was looking at a separate sheaf of papers, "Sustenance was what Trodden's company was shipping out to everyone, which is how we got our list in the first place."

"Was this the only place they were getting it from?" Baines asked.

"Looks like it." Connors said, "The equipment looks a bit involved."

"Then we're in the clear." Baines said, satisfied, "Even if we didn't get everyone, they'll die from lack of it if given enough time.  Even those hotshot Cybers they were raving about."

"Hmm.  Do you think sustenance was what he used in Oaken Fist?" Travis asked.

"Maybe.  That author, Greta Von Groven, didn't know much about the project itself."

"Well, what she did know got us here.  So, do you think anyone else knows how to-" Connors started, then jerked his head at the approaching beat of chopper blades.

"Finally!" Baines got up, "Things may get a bit sticky.  Got the Haskins?"

Travis nodded and went to the long cylindrical case he had brought upstairs.  Baines jerked his head to Connors and left the room.

"You think these guys know anything?" Connors asked Baines as they went down the staircase.

Baines grinned and nodded, "You'd be surprised at how much a house servant really knows.  Especially all the dirty laundry."

They walked out of the house and watched as the soldiers supervised the unloading of the natives from the Chinook,  Baines took out his Beretta and put in a fresh clip, "Yes!  Now we'll get some answers!"

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