Into the Storm by Larry Correia Page A

transfer?”
    Captain Schafer sat across from him. “Yes, Sergeant. I’ve heard from some of the officers you served with in Corvis that you are an exemplary staffer with a keen eye for organizational detail. You are a man who appreciates order and decorum.”
    “Thank you, Captain. I hate to be a bother, and I will gladly go wherever the kingdom needs me, but I am concerned—”
    The commanding officer of the 47th waved his hand dismissively. “No need to explain yourself. I am aware of the contemptible nature of your Lieutenant Madigan. Any proper soldier would be worried some of this stain might rub off on them, and I’d hate to see such a promising career cut short.”
    “So I’m to be transferred then?” That was a relief.
    Schafer gave him a gentle smile. “Sadly, no. I have need of you at the Sixth.”
    Cleasby tried not to let his disappointment show. “Whatever best serves the needs of Cygnar.”
    “A fine attitude to have, and I am sure your talents are being wasted. Which is why I need you to do something for me. I will look upon it as a personal favor. I have been promised a promotion—after this campaign is concluded and I have proven myself, of course. My uncle is the general of the Tenth Division at Point Bourne, and I have been groomed for a position on his staff. I will need good organizational men there, and I would like to keep you in mind. Do this favor for me and it will be remembered.”
    Some said he was naive, but Cleasby certainly wasn’t stupid. If the request was above board, they wouldn’t be meeting in secret about it. Schafer would just give the order and that would be that. “What do you need?” he asked hesitantly.
    “I need you to keep a detailed record of everything the members of the Sixth Platoon do that is against regulations. Everything. When Laddermore’s folly has totally embarrassed himself, I don’t just want Madigan drummed out of the army. I want him shamed. I want his title revoked. I want him hung. Do you understand?” Schafer’s composure had slipped a bit. “I want his head on a pike in front of the military district. You will record every wrongdoing, violation, and transgression, compile them, and present the report to me at the conclusion of the campaign.”
    Cleasby didn’t like where this was going at all, but he was by nature an honest man. “Uh . . . well . . . I am already doing something like that.”
    “Really? That’s what I like to hear. I knew I could count on you, Sergeant.”
    “I bear no special animosity toward Lieutenant Madigan. I’m just following the regulations. They are rather clear on the matter, sir.”
    Schafer leaned forward in his chair. “My, you really are a stickler, aren’t you? Very well, then. I will remember this favor.” The captain seemed very pleased. “Don’t let Madigan catch you. I hear he’s a crafty one. That will be all.” Schafer picked up some reports from a pile on his desk and began reading them. “Dismissed.”
    Cleasby stood up, adjusted his uniform, and thought it through. He could just walk away and reap the career benefits later, but that wasn’t the proper knightly thing to do. It needed to be said, no matter how awkward it made things. “Sir, I’m afraid Madigan is already aware of my cataloging the transgressions.”
    The captain tilted his head to the side. “What? How?”
    “Uh . . . Well, because I told him.”
    Schafer’s hands clenched, crumpling the report in his hands. “You told him?”
    “Yes, sir. As per regulation fifteen dash two zero five of the handbook, I have alerted my superior as to any inadvertent violations. I have been rather open about it.”
    The captain turned a funny shade of red when he was angry, Cleasby noted. Schafer pointed at the door. “Get out of my sight.”
    Cleasby saluted and then ran for his life.

    “It is the fifth of Cinten. If rumor’s to be believed, Brisbane’s bombardment against the walls of Sul will begin any day, and