Chapter 7: Holly
LIFE ON THE SHIP changed for Holly after her theatrical escape. She was no longer confined to her room, though Jesse still followed her everywhere. After besting him once, he rarely let her out of his site and even slept in the room with her from then on. In some ways, it felt even more like a prison but she enjoyed her new views, at least, and was even allowed to spend time on the top deck. She knew they were in the Elizabeth River, in what was Norfolk, VA. She knew they were on a battle cruiser and that it was in no way as big as the actual carriers, which was truly hard to believe. She also knew that there was a faction of rebels in the area causing trouble that they wanted Holly to try to talk with. She could tell Griffon was torn on the decision. The men felt she’d be fine with the small team now assigned to her, but he still didn’t like her going out into danger. He wanted to go in and grab their leader and bring him to the cruiser to talk on his terms, but they had never been able to actually locate him. Holly pointed out the need to do it on the guy’s territory. She assured Griffon that she was capable of her first mission.
She was finally briefed on what they wanted from the rebel leader. This faction was made up of ex-military that supposedly had highly classified intel the AMAN were trying to get their hands on. They weren’t entirely sure what, but suspected it involved the truth of what happened during the war. Despite all their resources, the AMAN still had no real idea. There was also no word on anything in the world beyond their territory and their known enemies, which was composed of most of the East Coast almost to the Mississippi River. Beyond that, they were blind in all directions. There were rumors of ships just offshore, and any information the rebel faction could provide was crucial to all of their survival.
Their rebel’s leader was a ruthless old black man named John “Gunny” Jackson. He ran a tight ship and was said to be extremely paranoid. His men were so loyal that, regardless of the interrogation, even to the death, Griffon’s boys had gotten very little information on him. So they were largely going in blind, with faith that Holly could get through to him. It was a long shot and potentially a suicide mission, which was why Griffon was adamant they capture Gunny and bring him back to the cruiser for interrogation and discussion.
“Sir, no offense, but if we could have gotten to him, we’d have done that already. The girl’s our best bet here. You even said so yourself. Isn’t that why she’s here, sir?”
Griffon hated that he was right, but knew there was no denying it. He nodded, swallowing hard the fear and pain the decision was causing him.
“Ready her and your team. You depart for shore first thing tomorrow.”
“Yes Sir!”
Holly couldn’t believe he was actually going through with it and approved the mission with her a part of it. She was equally nervous and excited and struggled to sleep that night. Once she’d gotten out of the room, she had a better idea of how much time had passed and was shocked to find she had been gone from home more than a month already. It was mid-February. She fought back the depression the thought conjured in her mind. Mostly, thinking about it seemed to make her sick to her stomach. These days, everything made her sick to her stomach. They kept telling her it was normal motion sickness from the ship, even though it was big enough for her to not really feel the ship’s movements. She did find some consolation in hearing that others had taken months to adjust to it. She preferred to insist that the terrible crap they called food was really poisoning everyone.
She didn’t have anything to call her own, so when they moved to depart she was issued everything she would need. Her clothes were standard AMAN. She pulled her hair back in their classic ponytail and wore a camo hat. They thought it best if she tried to blend in with the men. Chances were no one would give her a second look.
“Hey Red, you ready?” asked a large man she hadn’t met yet.
She nodded, picking up the pack. They watched her with a smirk. It was weighted down with enough supplies for two weeks, but she didn’t waiver as she hoisted it onto her back and walked towards them. Victory flared in her heart at the look of shock on their faces. She was used to dealing with men and knew she still had a long way to go before gaining their respect and acceptance, but she was confident they’d get there. This wasn’t exactly her first time in such a situation.
They didn’t go to the top deck this time. Instead, she was led to a section of the ship she had never been in before. She saw a door at the end of a long hallway that opened to the outside and realized they were at sea level. A small boat was waiting to take them to shore.
She boarded the small boat, took her seat, and watched as man after man joined her. There were eight of them in all. She knew now that AMAN ran in eight-man teams, or units, as they called them. That immediately made her an outsider, the odd man out. Each person within the unit was assigned one other person to pair off with. Buddy first, unit second, self last. That was how they operated. So where did that leave her?
As she was pondering that thought, Jesse boarded the dinghy, untying the rope grounding them to the ship, and pushed off.
Guess that answers that, she thought as Jesse settled in next to her. She rolled her eyes at him.
“What?” He tried to hide a grin.
“I guess I’m still stuck with you?”
“Yes ma’am. I’m your buddy for this mission.”
“Great; just great,” she said sarcastically. She looked at the other eight men around her and realized she didn’t know any of their names. “Hey,” she said in a ‘listen up, I’m in control here’ voice, “you guys got names? I’d like to know who it is I’m working with. And, I didn’t see a gun in my supplies,” she added, noting that each of them were carrying multiple handguns strapped to their waist and legs, and a few even had machine guns and rifles.
The big guy that spoke to her earlier laughed and shook his head. “Listen Red, you’re here only because the Major demanded it. We’ll protect you because it’s our job to do so. We get to shore, you stay with us. We break up, you’ll have Jesse to watch over you. No need for some dame to go off half-whacked with a gun. We got our own backs to watch out for, too.”
“And you are?” Holly asked in a dry tone.
“Lucas Branson, and this here is my unit. You are nothing more than a guest.”
She smiled sweetly. “Jesse”—she turned towards him because he was maneuvering the boat they were in—“please turn the boat around. I wish to return to the ship.”
Several smirked and nodded like they had been expecting her to fold and go running back to safety. She ignored them and stared Jesse down. He sighed and shrugged and slowly turned the boat back.
“Now, Lucas Branson, being the leader of this unit, I assume you have a radio or something to communicate back to the ship?”
“Yes, course I do.”
“Good, radio Major Maynor and tell him to meet us where we dock.”
“Listen, missy, I don’t exactly know how things are run where you come from, but around here, we don’t demand shit from our Major. He demands of us.”
She held her hand out and he passed the radio to her.
“What channel is he on?”
They all laughed, “We don’t get a direct line to the Major, Red.”
She hated the nickname they gave her but tried not to flinch at it knowing it would only make it worse. She clicked the button, took a deep breath, and tried to sound as panicked as possible. “This is Holly Jenkins. I need to speak with Major Maynor immediately.”
The men snickered until not thirty seconds later, Griffon was on the radio.
“Holly, what’s the matter?”
“We had to turn the boat around, please meet us at the docks. I’ll explain everything when we’re safely back to the ship.”
“On my way.”
Their mouths dropped open in shock.
“Never underestimate the power of a woman.”
“What the hell is this all about anyway?” a scrawny freckle faced boy asked.
“Name?” she replied to him.
“They call me Lucky.”
“What’s going on here, Lucky, is that we have two major issues that are about to be addressed before we continue on this little outing of ours.” The tone in her voice had them all snapping their mouths shut.
As Jesse angled the boat towards the opened door, Griffon poked his head out and grabbed for the rope.
“What’s wrong?” he said breathlessly.
“There were apparently a few things that we needed to clarify before departure. One, I understand that they don’t know me and anything they do know about me has been strictly rumors, but I also do not know them. I am not and will not be some maiden in distress hoping these big strong men will come to my rescue. And I sure as hell am not going out there without being able to properly defend myself. Issue me at least one handgun with ammo and a knife or this deal is off.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Look, Holly, it’s just not necessary. The guys will protect you.”
She stared him down and the tension between them caused the other men to squirm in their seats. “Need I remind you, of all people, how capable I am with a weapon?”
Griffon instinctively rubbed the scar on his forehead she had given him the first time they met.
“I’m telling you now. I defend myself or I’m off this mission until you boneheaded, thick-skulled men, can understand that there is a lot I will put up with, but this is not negotiable.”
“Dammit Holly, it’s actually not about you for once. The unit feels safer without a weapon in your capable hands,” he tried to placate her.
“I will not demand their trust, but neither will I trust them. In my world, that is something that must be earned, and until said time that trust is earned, I will not rely on them to cover my back out there. This is not my first mission, Griffon, and you damn well know it.”
He sighed and conceded. He handed her two of his own personal weapons as aggravated whispers surrounded them. Holly checked and cleared the first before strapping it onto her side. Griffon hesitated to give her the second, handing it out in offering then quickly snatching it back.
“Dammit Holly, this one’s my favorite, and you better make damn sure I get it back.”
“Knife,” she said in response as he reluctantly handed his favorite gun over, along with a holster that she strapped to her thigh. The knife he produced, she unsheathed before nodding satisfactorily and stuffing into the side of her boot.
“Grab me six boxes of 9mm,” he told someone inside the ship. Within a few minutes, he handed over the ammo. “Anything else?”
“The remainder of my concerns I will take up with Branson’s unit directly and am confident we will come to terms on them. My apologies for dragging you into this, but it was a resolvable and nonnegotiable issue.”
She was cold and all business. Griffon didn’t like it, and he worried about her mental stability after the trauma she just went through, but his hands were tied. He needed the information and knew she was the best option they had.
“Major?” Branson started, but Griffon cut him off with the raise his hand.
“I know we discussed this, Lucas. I told you where she would stand on the situation. We tried. Trust me when I say she’s more capable than you realize.”
The big man nodded at his superior officer and signaled Jesse to take off.
“So, princess,” he said using a different tactic, and Holly cringed knowing that she had overstepped some invisible male ego boundary, “is there anything else we can do for your royal highness, or can we get back to our mission.”
Holly opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. These were not her men. They were his. She would earn their trust and respect in time, but caving to the baiting cattiness of this guy wasn’t going to help her on that path.
They were silent for what felt like an eternity. No one spoke, and the tension was high. Lucky finally broke the silence.
“You said the other stuff you’d address directly with us. What did you mean by that?”
She snorted in response, “It means that when I have an issue, you’ll know about it. Look, I don’t want to come across as some diva or spoiled brat here who ran to the Major to get what she wanted.”
“Yet that’s exactly what happened, isn’t it?” Branson said coolly.
Changing tactics, she asked them, “I don’t know this area. I don’t know any of you. I have no clue what we’re walking into, but it’s been alluded to be a bad situation. Would any one of you step foot on that shore without a weapon at your disposal?”
They all shook their heads while Branson glared her down.
“Then why would you ask me to do that? I just want the safety of being able to protect myself.”
“But you’re a girl. You have no business toting a gun. Can you even shoot the thing?”
Holly took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing. Being defensive wasn’t going to help her situation any. “Tell you what. If Branson allows,” she said trying to acknowledge his seniority in the group, “we are still far enough from shore for a trial. There is a buoy just over there,” she pointed to it about twenty yards off to their left bobbing in the water. “It’s not entirely a stationary target and we are moving, but since I don’t see anything else out here, that’ll have to do. Any of you concerned with my ability to use this weapon,” she patted the gun strapped to her side, “challenge me now. That target,” she said pointing back at the buoy, “one round only, to conserve ammo.”
“And when we beat you?”
“If you beat me,” she corrected, “if any one of you can beat me in a shoot off I’ll relinquish these weapons to Branson, if requested.”
Lucky was the first to jump up, rocking the boat in the process. “Let’s see what you got, Princess.”
Lucky waited until the boat was steadied and took his shot hitting the buoy barely, low and to the right just above the water line. He grinned and bowed to Holly. She grinned and stood to ready herself. The boat was rocking and as she predicted the men purposefully kept it rocking. She lined up her site waited for the boat to dip to the left and as it came up to level she shot. **DING** was loudly heard as the bullet nailed the top of the buoy, dead center.
“No way,” one of the guys whose name she didn’t know said. He jumped up and readied to take his shot. He hit the broadest section of the buoy just to the right of center. Cheers and high fives greeted him.
Holly stood again waited for her moment, took it, duplicating her earlier shot.
“Woah!” they sounded off in unison.
A dark-haired man with hot, rippling muscles rose to the chants and cheers of the others.
“Jax!”
“Go man, you got this.”
“Show the princess how it’s done.”
“Best shot in the Militia.”
Holly smirked. Best in the Militia? She thought to herself. We’ll see.
Jax didn’t waste any time. He lined up and shot. **DING** sounded loud and clear center mass just below Holly’s shots. She took her turn. **DING** equally as good.
“Moving target,” Jax said, clearly a man of few words.
“Jesse, speed up the boat,” Holly offered and Jax nodded in acceptance.
After two rounds each at increasingly faster pace and a longer distance as the boat pulled away from the buoy, Branson finally spoke up.
“Enough, I think you’ve made your point, Holly. I will not confiscate your weapons.”
Jax reached out and offered his hand. “That’s some badass skills you got there, Red.”
“Thanks,” she said trying desperately not to blush.
The other men couldn’t stop talking about it as they made their way to shore. It wasn’t until they hit dry land that they all sobered and quieted.
* * * * *