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"We want you to put together a formation of company strength. You'll recruit them out of a pool of refugees at Camp Liberty. You know about Liberty?"
Valentine had heard of it. He'd even seen horse-drawn wagons full of people leaving for it.
Just like Camp Freedom in the South, or Independence in the Northwest. What was the new one in north Texas called? Reliance. "That's where the rabbits picked up by Rally Base were sent."
"Rabbits" was Southern Command slang for people who made the run out of the Kurian Zone.
"Been there?"
"No."
"The commander's a good egg. He'll help you out," Lambert said. "He'll be ordered to assist, as a matter of fact."
"What has he been told?" Valentine asked.
"The bare minimum," Lambert said. "Keep using the Argent ID for now. 'Southern Command indulges war criminals' is one of the more popular Kurian propaganda points. They talked up your escape in Kansas, to show what Southern Command does with murders. Even the Clarion still mentions you now and then, when they're picking at old scabs. 'Sham justice for real murder.' That sort of thing."
The Clarion was an antiwar paper. Most of the soldiers called it the Clarinet, because of the high, squealing tune its editorial page frequently played.
"What's the purpose of this company?" Valentine asked, though he was already guessing.
"We want a few locals who can speak to the folks in their own language," Lambert said.
"Facilitation with trade, scouting, scavenging. Ideally, your men will later get promoted to lead squads and platoons of their own, once we're set up properly in the triangle. So think about that: One day your company could swell into a regiment."
"Officers?"
"We'll give you a lieutenant to take your place if something happens to you," Lambert said.
Lambert was chilly little calculator at times. "Happy thought. NCOs?"
"Take your pick, though we'd rather you did it from the ready reserve. We'd hate to disturb frontline units too much. We've got some names if you feel like you're out of touch."
"I'd like to be able to offer a sergeant major star, sir."
"For a company?" Seng asked.
"You said it might grow."
"I don't see a problem with that," Lambert said. "I'll speak to the general."
"Where will we train?" Valentine asked.
"Haven't worked that out yet. It might be Rally Base, unless they decide that's too far forward. Highbeam will establish a separate depot, wherever they end up."
"I don't suppose you can tell me when we're going."
Lambert smiled. "You must be joking. But it won't be before next year. So if you want to take some time off to disappear into northern Missouri again, you can have a couple weeks once you've got your men assembled and they're training. Clear it with Seng and myself and we'll square things with the general. Just don't get yourself caught."
"Be terrible if they found out New Orleans was about to be hit," Valentine said.
"So, how does it sound?" Seng asked. "I know you've wanted a mission to aid the guerrillas in the coal country. Suit you?"
"It's back to the Kurian Zone. I like it there. I can shoot at my enemies."
"You'd like to take a shot at Sime, I bet," Lambert said.
Valentine shrugged. How did she know that? Well, not worth thinking about that. Lambert had taken an unusual interest in him. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd read the old letters from Molly Carlson, resting in some warehouse with his Cat claws and other souvenirs.
