08-21-2015, 03:16 PM
When Jay stepped outside and the sunlight hit his face, he closed his eyes and let the rays settle on his skin. After probably the hardest sleep of his life, which was saying a lot given the kind of training he was used to, there was a brief moment of actual contentment and he needed to bask in the moment just a few seconds longer. Good thing too. It wasn't to last.
Shredder had wandered off by then, but as Jay crossed the courtyard, he kept an eye about for a dart of yellow fur should it go weaving between feet. One of the refugees, strange to think of Olabode as a refugee given he was born in the city, caught his eye and came over. Jay's wave went along with a smile for the guy who'd been coming to check up on the mending of his leg these past few days. Medics and doctors were in short supply, and it was a waste of their time to let one spend precious minutes checking stitches and bruising when an abundance of refugees begging to be trained were around to for that kind of thing.
Olabode had a sharp eye, not only for spotting Jay out of half a dozen other Legionnaires that probably all looked alike to him, but because by the look on his face - a mixture of horror and confusion - he'd noticed Jay's lack of cast, perfectly tucked pant leg, and easy stride.
Jay thought long and hard that morning how he was going to present himself today. Strutting around never felt better. But suddenly mended of a jaw-grinding wound and excruciating surgery was bound to draw a few questions. Well. There was nothing to do about it. He couldn't pretend to limp around. Well maybe he could pretend, but like hell if he was going to keep wearing that cast while doing so.
"Mornin'"
he greeted the Sierra Leoneon as the man came up. He'd lost contact with the rest of his family in the fighting, but a few pulled strings on part of the Red Cross told him they were huddled down with family and he'd decided to stay and volunteer so others may know his peace.
Olabode's thick accent responded promptly. "Legionnaire Jay. You are walking up right today. How is this?" Jay's smile was lost in a shrug. The guy was always formal despite having twenty years on him.
"Let's call it a miracle and leave it at that."
He figured it'd make no sense, and Olabode wouldn't be satisfied until he'd checked things over himself. "Don't tell the doc though. He won't believe you, or me, and want to come check me out himself. Dumb when there's plenty of people that actually need his help."
Olabode gawked but Jay clapped on him the shoulder and peered over the heads of those around them. "Looks like the CEO's about to get started. Gotta go."
Jay stood with a few other Hellcats for the announcement. Since one of them actually had a cat now, he'd become something of their personal mascot. Or Shredder had at least. Solid greetings all around. Morning and sweat was already dripping down more than one neck. Packed in with other Legionnaires, and the likes of Olabode out of sight, reality was quickly darkening the mood. None of them knew what to expect, but rumors were always in abundance. Some said he'd led the convoy to the refinery knowing they would fail to save lives there. Others suggested he was working with General Wallace-Johnson himself, willing to trade a Legion blind eye for personal gain. Usually money came up with those rumors. Jacques was known for being something of a gambler, reckless with money, sports-cars, women. He wasn't a general. He was their boss. Given the Legion was basically a mercenary army, nobody really cared. The better the Legion's finances and everyone got a raise. But Jay thought there was more to the story. He hoped for more.
Jacques climbed on top of one of the SUV's and the crowds slowly quieted.
He waited for something. Jay felt his eyes graze across him and those alongside. Strange to see eyes, the man was somewhat soulless always hidden behind land warriors. Jay could say the same about himself, given he was always in Legion-issued glasses, but a former Marine knew all about the technology provided by expensive LW's. He only imagined what Jacques saw when he overlaid the view upon the real world. At least Jay's were just for shade.
Whatever he waited for, he found it. And jumped right into hot water. He went to the refinery knowing they would lose that battle. Knowing there wouldn't be a battle at all. Would have been better they hadn't even shown up. What the hell? Why go at all! They didn't even save the damn kids according to Lawrence. Worse, they were all gunned down running for their lives in the woods. Been better to line everyone up on a wall and execute them quickly. Jay felt his jaw clench, and the other hellcats weren't hiding their disgust either. There would be men taking up his offer today. A grunt in a standing army was not what they were recruited into. It wasn't what Jay was recruited into. At least in the states enlistment stood for something. He was a fucking American Marine. What would he be here? Jacques Danjou's soldier? The Legion stands. That damn oath issued in his mind, even the french version he had to memorize. They stand against what?
Jacques spoke of resistance and government. He had a plan to make Sierra Leone whole again. Did Jay even care about Sierra Leone? Really? There was always another tyrant, lord, cartel, whatever ready to step in and stir shit up once the last bad guy was out of the way. Jacques wanted to clear the field in this country, but then what? Set up a joke of a democracy and haul ass to the next field of battle? Or was he going to rule it himself? Africa's very own Nikolai Brandon sweeping country after country under his throne?
Hard eyes met mirrors of those around him. They were all thinking the same thing, but nobody had the balls to step up and say it.
This was probably a really bad idea.
He made his way out of formation and approached the SUV. Carefully. Those officers were wary of unexpected movement around their new .. what? General?
Jay felt the silence stinging the back of his neck like wasps. He just stared up at Jacques, looking into their leader's determined eyes, begging to see a glimmer of what the back of his mind hoped he would find. Just for good measure, Jay pulled his own sunglasses from his face and saluted what he thought was appropriate for the deference in their ranks. Whatever that was.
"You have a plan for Wallace-Johnson. 'The Legion stands'. We didn't stand against anything yesterday."
Jay's voice carried across the courtyard. He was willing to die for a cause when he believed in it. He wanted desperately to put his faith in Jacques. But Jacques admitted his own guilt in yesterday's slaughter. Hard to put faith in a man like that.
Shredder had wandered off by then, but as Jay crossed the courtyard, he kept an eye about for a dart of yellow fur should it go weaving between feet. One of the refugees, strange to think of Olabode as a refugee given he was born in the city, caught his eye and came over. Jay's wave went along with a smile for the guy who'd been coming to check up on the mending of his leg these past few days. Medics and doctors were in short supply, and it was a waste of their time to let one spend precious minutes checking stitches and bruising when an abundance of refugees begging to be trained were around to for that kind of thing.
Olabode had a sharp eye, not only for spotting Jay out of half a dozen other Legionnaires that probably all looked alike to him, but because by the look on his face - a mixture of horror and confusion - he'd noticed Jay's lack of cast, perfectly tucked pant leg, and easy stride.
Jay thought long and hard that morning how he was going to present himself today. Strutting around never felt better. But suddenly mended of a jaw-grinding wound and excruciating surgery was bound to draw a few questions. Well. There was nothing to do about it. He couldn't pretend to limp around. Well maybe he could pretend, but like hell if he was going to keep wearing that cast while doing so.
"Mornin'"
he greeted the Sierra Leoneon as the man came up. He'd lost contact with the rest of his family in the fighting, but a few pulled strings on part of the Red Cross told him they were huddled down with family and he'd decided to stay and volunteer so others may know his peace.
Olabode's thick accent responded promptly. "Legionnaire Jay. You are walking up right today. How is this?" Jay's smile was lost in a shrug. The guy was always formal despite having twenty years on him.
"Let's call it a miracle and leave it at that."
He figured it'd make no sense, and Olabode wouldn't be satisfied until he'd checked things over himself. "Don't tell the doc though. He won't believe you, or me, and want to come check me out himself. Dumb when there's plenty of people that actually need his help."
Olabode gawked but Jay clapped on him the shoulder and peered over the heads of those around them. "Looks like the CEO's about to get started. Gotta go."
Jay stood with a few other Hellcats for the announcement. Since one of them actually had a cat now, he'd become something of their personal mascot. Or Shredder had at least. Solid greetings all around. Morning and sweat was already dripping down more than one neck. Packed in with other Legionnaires, and the likes of Olabode out of sight, reality was quickly darkening the mood. None of them knew what to expect, but rumors were always in abundance. Some said he'd led the convoy to the refinery knowing they would fail to save lives there. Others suggested he was working with General Wallace-Johnson himself, willing to trade a Legion blind eye for personal gain. Usually money came up with those rumors. Jacques was known for being something of a gambler, reckless with money, sports-cars, women. He wasn't a general. He was their boss. Given the Legion was basically a mercenary army, nobody really cared. The better the Legion's finances and everyone got a raise. But Jay thought there was more to the story. He hoped for more.
Jacques climbed on top of one of the SUV's and the crowds slowly quieted.
He waited for something. Jay felt his eyes graze across him and those alongside. Strange to see eyes, the man was somewhat soulless always hidden behind land warriors. Jay could say the same about himself, given he was always in Legion-issued glasses, but a former Marine knew all about the technology provided by expensive LW's. He only imagined what Jacques saw when he overlaid the view upon the real world. At least Jay's were just for shade.
Whatever he waited for, he found it. And jumped right into hot water. He went to the refinery knowing they would lose that battle. Knowing there wouldn't be a battle at all. Would have been better they hadn't even shown up. What the hell? Why go at all! They didn't even save the damn kids according to Lawrence. Worse, they were all gunned down running for their lives in the woods. Been better to line everyone up on a wall and execute them quickly. Jay felt his jaw clench, and the other hellcats weren't hiding their disgust either. There would be men taking up his offer today. A grunt in a standing army was not what they were recruited into. It wasn't what Jay was recruited into. At least in the states enlistment stood for something. He was a fucking American Marine. What would he be here? Jacques Danjou's soldier? The Legion stands. That damn oath issued in his mind, even the french version he had to memorize. They stand against what?
Jacques spoke of resistance and government. He had a plan to make Sierra Leone whole again. Did Jay even care about Sierra Leone? Really? There was always another tyrant, lord, cartel, whatever ready to step in and stir shit up once the last bad guy was out of the way. Jacques wanted to clear the field in this country, but then what? Set up a joke of a democracy and haul ass to the next field of battle? Or was he going to rule it himself? Africa's very own Nikolai Brandon sweeping country after country under his throne?
Hard eyes met mirrors of those around him. They were all thinking the same thing, but nobody had the balls to step up and say it.
This was probably a really bad idea.
He made his way out of formation and approached the SUV. Carefully. Those officers were wary of unexpected movement around their new .. what? General?
Jay felt the silence stinging the back of his neck like wasps. He just stared up at Jacques, looking into their leader's determined eyes, begging to see a glimmer of what the back of his mind hoped he would find. Just for good measure, Jay pulled his own sunglasses from his face and saluted what he thought was appropriate for the deference in their ranks. Whatever that was.
"You have a plan for Wallace-Johnson. 'The Legion stands'. We didn't stand against anything yesterday."
Jay's voice carried across the courtyard. He was willing to die for a cause when he believed in it. He wanted desperately to put his faith in Jacques. But Jacques admitted his own guilt in yesterday's slaughter. Hard to put faith in a man like that.
Only darkness shows you the light.