Red Horse

Transmissions Scout Stokes listened attentively as the call of a distant-sounding voice rose just above the roar of static on the net.

"Charlie-6, this is Red Horse. Break. We are not alone. Over."

Stokes pushed his headset into his ear with one hand and feverishly scribbled the message down with the other.

"Copy, Red Horse. What is your grid?"

Stokes waited a few seconds for a reply, but heard nothing more.

"Red Horse, I say again, what is your grid? Over."

Silence. Static.

This was his first night on watch, and Stokes was already on edge. Had he done something wrong? He checked his notes. He had done everything correctly. Why didn't Red Horse respond?

Stokes looked over at Sergeant Riley's tent. The words, "Don't wake me up unless it's life or death," ran through his mind. Sergeant Riley was a stickler for the rules, and that was rule number one.

After a few seconds of contemplating the severity of the situation, Stokes decided it could indeed be life or death, and went over to wake Sergeant Riley.

"I don't hear anyone dying. This better be good."

"That's precisely it, Sergeant," Stokes stammered. "I don't hear anything."

"Of course you don't hear anything, you dumb sh*t. We're here to maintain the post. This net is only used for training exercises. There aren't any exercises scheduled for at least the next two months."

Stokes' eyes opened wide. Then who was on the net?

"I have you monitoring the net just for sh*ts and giggles. Captain O and I thought it would be good for you to get in the habit of standing a watch, but clearly you can't even handle that without a hand to hold. You're never going to-"

Stokes started to look pale.

"Ok. That's it. You're off the watch. We'll have to tell Captain O. He's gonna be pissed, and I won't be able to save you."

Sergeant Riley snatched Stokes up by the collar and marched him over to Captain Ortega's tent.

"What in God's name were you two yelling about over there?" Captain O growled as he stood up.

"This piece of sh*t can't even stand watch right, Sir. Now he's looking all sick like he's gonna just die on us."

Captain O looked at Stokes, then at Riley.

"Stokes, why are we awake right now?"

"Sir, I received a transmission. From Red Horse." Stokes whispered shakily. "They said 'we're not alone', but they never gave me a grid, and they never came back on the net. So, it was probably nothing. I'm sorry."

Captain Ortega stared at Stokes and Riley in disbelief. After several seconds of silence, the older man's expression hardened, and he addressed the young men in a somber tone.

"Well, boys. Do you want the good news or the bad news? Honestly, you probably won't believe me either way, but here's the short version: 'Red Horse' was the call sign for a platoon that went out on patrol from this post and never came back."

Stokes and Riley exchanged glances.

"No bodies, and no engagements reported. A lot of people lost their careers over the whole thing because nobody could figure out what the hell happened. That call sign was retired years ago. The good news is that they're still out there. The bad news is that if they're not alone, we're not alone either. Boys, we're all on watch tonight. I'll call it in to headquarters and see if we can get some backup. I'm afraid this is just the beginning."