asked.
"Not really, no," Sophia said. "I sort of know what it is."
"More like was," Steve said. "Formed by Louis the Fourteenth to build up his forces. It only takes non-French volunteers as enlisted men. All the officers are French. The 'enlisted' over the years have included generals from other armies, usually ones that were on the run for some reason. They're given new names and new identities and as long as they do their full term of service, with honor, they can live under them for the rest of their lives as full French citizens. After World War Two it was filled with former SS, many of them under death sentences for their actions in World War Two. You practically had to speak German to be in a French unit."
"That's screwy," Sophia said.
"It worked for centuries with one notable exception," Steve said. "A mutiny in the 1960s that was an attempted coup. Point being, I'm sure there are all sorts of people in the squadron who have taken the opportunity to become someone else. To forget what they were. As long as they don't screw up, badly, I'll take that. The problem being, leopards don't usually change their spots."
"I'd say his spots are red, white and blue," Sophia said.
"I'll take that."
"You missed me mum and da," Sophia said as Walker came up from the cabins. He was showered, shaved and his iron gray hair neatly styled. Not bad for four hour's sleep after a nearly twenty-four-hour run.
"Heard them, could tell they were friends, went back to sleep," Walker said. "Any food left?"
"We made more," Sophia said. "When I heard you getting up I made fish tacos."
"You, Skipper, are a drunkard's dream," Walker said, uncovering the dish and spooning some of the meat onto a pita.
"Da was curious about you," Sophia said. "And a touch paranoid."
"Why?" Walker asked.
"Because I know a fraud when I see one," Sophia said. "Which isn't quite right. You're not a fraud in the classic sense. You're just not saying everything."
"True," Walker said, shrugging. "If that's an issue I will, reluctantly, ask for a transfer."
"I told him you were former military," Sophia said. "Certainly more than four years. Probably a retired senior NCO although you've been an officer. Probably an instructor in something technical with combat experience. From the languages and combat experience, that says Special Forces. And you're not really like a gunny or a sergeant major. And that I didn't consider you a threat or I wouldn't have given you a weapon. Also that I'd pitch a tantrum if he tried to pull you off my boat being a 'good da.'"
"You, young lady, live up to your name," Walker said, smiling. "Correct on virtually all particulars. Is it an issue?"
"Nope," Sophia said. "As long as it's not an issue. Da said most people who change their background can't change their spots. I said yours were red, white and blue. If that's not the case, then there's probably an issue."
"I wouldn't put it quite so patriotically," Walker said, shrugging. "I've never been one to wrap myself in the flag. Probably because many who do didn't really accept all that it represented, good and bad, and others did so for personal gain rather than true patriotism. But what I do wrap myself in is what this squadron represents. Soldiers do not, by and large, create. They destroy. The question always is whether what they are destroying promotes the value of civilization and the advancement of man and specifically Western concepts and philosophies or degrades them. If it degrades them, valid target. If it promotes them, invalid target. Terrorists? Valid targets. Infected? Valid targets."
"That makes sense," Sophia said. "One question, pure curiosity between the skipper and her crewman. Senior NCO or senior officer?"
"If it's truly between you and me," Walker said. "Both. Serially. NCO then officer then senior officer. And this may be a trust issue for you. I've been in contact with General Brice. I knew her before the Plague. On a purely personal note, I was pleased to
Krystal Shannan, Camryn Rhys