Free Hero by Joel Rosenberg Page B

over in a while. For a while. It's true what they try to teach you in school: relax while you can." He beckoned Ari over to the side of a road and leaned against a tree, loosening his own pack straps. Benyamin had had the squad reclaim their gear from the wreckage of the bus; their bus hadn't burned, so while the packs had been scattered, it was all intact.
    Benyamin muttered something into his mike, then dug into his buttpack, coming out with a dull black canteen. He took a short drink, then passed it to Ari. "Take a swig."
    The water was warm and brackish, but it was good.
    "Look," Benyamin said, his face grim as death. "There's no point in pretending. You're in deep shit. You and Slepak. You both froze, first time out. I'll see what I can do, but this isn't good. Just remember that you caught the fringe of a blast. You don't remember much after that."
    "Benyamin, I—"
    "You shut up." Benyamin's grip on his sleeve was numbing. "You just shut up, shithead. Your way didn't work out, so you do it my way. There's no other options. The big three don't count. You can't claim battle shock," he said, extending a finger, "not on your first time out. You can't claim that you weren't ready—" another finger "—because Kelev was operational. You can't claim a gross physical injury, because you don't have one. You don't have a defense, so you just do it my way. Understood?"
    "Yes."
    "Very good." Benyamin smiled. It was a report. "So, I'll fix it, best as I can. Zucker owes me—he'll remember that you had a dilated pupil when he examined you. You don't remember much—just that you're a bit confused about what happened. Tetsuo'll be down later today, and I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow, have him square things with Galil."
    "I didn't know they were friends."
    "They're not. But Galil knows that Shimon respects him. So does Peled." Benyamin looked like he was about to say more on the subject, but he shook his head. There was a lot about Tetsuo that nobody spoke of.
    Benyamin pulled a foodstick from his pack, unwrapped the end, and bit in. "Shit, I wish we had the Sergeant here—Uncle Tzvi's better at handling things than anybody else I know. You're stuck with me—but I think I can pull it off. Shimon may or may not buy the story, but there won't be a lot of time to think about that, not right now. He's not going to overrule Galil, Peled and Tetsuo, not unless he's damn sure—which he won't be. Not with me, Laskov and Lavon vouching for you.
    "So you just keep low and stay in the middle of the pack—you don't come in first or last in the morning run, you don't go to the head or the foot of the mess line. You turn invisible and blend in. My guess is that you'll have another chance to prove yourself within a few days. Figure we settle in at Camp Ramorino tonight, the rest of the regiment gets in tomorrow or the day after, and—"
    "Eh?"
    Benyamin shrugged. "Think about it. We got hit by some deep-cover Freiheimer saboteurs, folks who've probably been making life miserable behind the lines. Interesting that we never got a briefing on that, eh?
    "Now, granted, they didn't have enough men, didn't have enough equipment, didn't have enough warning to do the job: a dozen more Freiheimers, half a dozen rocketeers and ten minutes more of getting ready, and we'd all be dead.
    "I'll bet that there's another couple of squads of sabs within a couple hours of here. Probably in hiding now. For now. Ready to hit the whole regiment, which they would have if we'd waited for the other two groups to get down before moving out of the port."
    Benyamin nodded toward the forest. "They're out there somewhere, and somebody's leaking information. Shimon doesn't like stabs in the back. Like Uncle Tzvi says: Lesson time. What do you think he's going to do—what would you do, General?"
    Ari thought it over for a moment. "I'd commandeer helo transport for the other training detachments—I mean, the battalions—and not have them take a direct route. If we