Chapter 2 — The Misfits Go to War
Chapter 2 — The Misfits Go to War
The morning had started badly.
By lunchtime, it had become ridiculous.
By three o'clock, Stg. Salty was sitting inside a Leopard 2 tank wondering how his life had come to this.
Outside, the Misfits were preparing for their first major training exercise.
Salty looked through the hatch.
McFinleyyy was arguing with Govna.
Quags was eating.
Quagmire was also eating.
Sarah and Susan were standing beside the tank, wearing their combat gear and looking considerably more organised than everybody else.
Finholio was polishing the Leopard 2 with the concentration of a man restoring a priceless piece of art.
And then there was Ye Olde Large Lad.
He was lifting weights.
Again.
Salty shook his head.
“Why is he lifting weights?”
McFinleyyy looked up.
“Apparently we're going on an adventure.”
“And?”
“He wants to be prepared.”
“For what?”
McFinleyyy shrugged.
“Apparently the tank might break down and he'll have to carry it.”
Salty stared at him.
“That is not how tanks work.”
From outside came a deep voice.
“I know.”
Salty looked out.
Ye Olde Large Lad continued lifting.
“Just in case.”
Salty closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
---
Above the training area, WhizzAir's DJI drone was already in the sky.
He had given himself a very important title:
Airborne Reconnaissance Commander.
Nobody had appointed him.
He'd simply written it on his jacket.
WhizzAir looked down at his controller.
“I've got visual.”
Salty's radio crackled.
“Identify.”
“Training targets ahead.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
Salty glanced at McFinleyyy.
“Distance?”
WhizzAir paused.
“Far enough.”
McFinleyyy nodded.
“Very professional.”
WhizzAir continued.
“Targets are clearly marked.”
Salty smiled.
“Good. Then let's see if this old girl still has it.”
The Leopard 2 rumbled forward.
The sound rolled across the training ground.
Everyone stopped talking.
Even Quags stopped eating.
For approximately six seconds.
Then he started again.
---
Sarah watched the tank move.
“Everyone knows the plan?”
Susan nodded.
“Stay together. Follow instructions. Keep it controlled.”
Sarah looked at Finholio.
“And don't improvise.”
Finholio looked offended.
“I never improvise.”
Susan stared at him.
“You joined the Misfits without being invited.”
“That was strategic initiative.”
Sarah sighed.
“Close enough.”
---
Inside the Leopard, Salty checked his crew.
McFinleyyy looked serious.
For once.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
Salty nodded.
The tank moved forward.
Ahead, the first large training target stood against the landscape.
WhizzAir's voice came through the radio.
“Target one marked.”
Salty looked through the optics.
There it was.
A large, clearly marked training target.
“Confirmed.”
The Leopard halted.
For a moment, everything went quiet.
Then—
BOOM!
The sound rolled across the countryside.
The Misfits outside jumped.
Finholio nearly dropped his polishing cloth.
Ye Olde Large Lad stopped lifting weights.
Even Quagmire looked impressed.
The first target disappeared behind a cloud of dust.
WhizzAir's voice crackled over the radio.
“Direct hit.”
McFinleyyy grinned.
Salty smiled.
“Next.”
---
WhizzAir moved the drone.
“Target two marked.”
The Leopard rolled forward.
This time Finholio had somehow climbed onto the rear of the tank.
Sarah spotted him.
“Finholio!”
“Yeah?”
“Get down!”
“Why?”
“Because you're not a tank commander!”
Finholio looked around.
“I'm already up here.”
“That isn't an argument!”
He climbed down.
Unfortunately, he landed directly beside Quags.
Quags looked at him.
“Watch yourself.”
Finholio looked at the enormous man beside him.
“Sorry.”
Quags nodded.
“Accepted.”
Then he went back to eating.
---
Inside the tank, Salty received the next mark.
He looked at McFinleyyy.
“Ready?”
McFinleyyy nodded.
The Leopard stopped.
Another controlled training shot thundered across the range.
BOOM!
The second target was hit.
WhizzAir came over the radio.
“Another direct hit.”
Salty leaned back.
“Still got it.”
McFinleyyy grinned.
“Never lost it.”
From outside, Govna shouted:
“WHO'S MAKING THE TEA?”
Salty closed his eyes.
“Apparently nobody told Govna this is a military exercise.”
McFinleyyy laughed.
“Give him time.”
---
Then WhizzAir's voice changed.
“Hang on.”
Salty immediately became serious.
“What?”
“Drone's picked up something.”
Sarah looked towards the sky.
Susan moved beside her.
“What sort of something?”
WhizzAir stared at his screen.
“A fourth target.”
Salty frowned.
“That wasn't on the briefing.”
“Exactly.”
The atmosphere changed.
For the first time that day, nobody laughed.
Salty looked through the hatch.
“Can you confirm it's part of the exercise?”
WhizzAir checked again.
“Stand by.”
A few seconds passed.
Then—
“Confirmed. Training target. Someone forgot to put it on the briefing sheet.”
Salty exhaled.
“McFinleyyy.”
“Yeah?”
“Remind me to have words with whoever organised this.”
McFinleyyy nodded.
“Who organised it?”
Salty paused.
“I did.”
McFinleyyy smiled.
“Awkward.”
---
The fourth target was marked.
The Leopard moved into position.
Sarah and Susan watched from behind the safety line.
Ye Olde Large Lad had stopped lifting weights.
Finholio had stopped polishing.
Quags had even stopped eating.
For once, the entire Misfits crew was watching.
Salty looked through the optics.
“Target confirmed.”
He waited.
Then the tank fired.
BOOOOOOM!
The sound echoed across the training ground.
Dust rose into the air.
Everyone stared.
WhizzAir checked the drone feed.
Then he smiled.
“Direct hit.”
The Misfits erupted.
Finholio raised both arms.
“WE ARE ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!”
Sarah looked at Susan.
Susan looked at Sarah.
Neither of them said anything.
They both knew the truth.
They weren't brilliant.
They were just extraordinarily lucky.
---
The Leopard rolled back towards the group.
Salty climbed out.
Finholio approached him.
“Boss.”
“Yeah?”
“I've learned something today.”
Salty waited.
“War is loud.”
Salty nodded.
“Very insightful.”
“And expensive.”
“Also true.”
“And I'm hungry.”
Salty stared at him.
“There's the Finholio we know.”
Sarah walked over.
“Good exercise.”
Susan nodded.
“Everyone worked well together.”
McFinleyyy smiled.
“Mostly.”
Govna appeared from behind the tank carrying a kettle.
“Tea?”
Salty looked at him.
“Where did you get that?”
Govna smiled.
“Strategic logistics.”
Salty laughed.
“Fair enough.”
The Misfits gathered around.
The Leopard 2 sat behind them, covered in dust.
WhizzAir's drone hovered overhead.
Ye Olde Large Lad went back to lifting weights.
And Finholio picked up his polishing cloth.
Then he looked at the tank.
“Do you reckon I could polish the big gun?”
Salty nearly choked on his tea.
“No.”
Finholio nodded.
“Worth asking.”
The Misfits laughed.
For the moment, the world was quiet.
The training exercise was over.
But Salty knew something the others didn't.
Tomorrow, they were going somewhere new.
And this time...
they wouldn't be training.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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