Read Online Blood Mate: The Project Rebellion, Book 2 by Mina Carter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mina Carter
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the room. They were all injured—either that or field dressings over combats had just become the new fashion and no one had seen fit to tell her. The scent of blood and death hung in the room so thick she wanted to roll in it like a cat in catnip.
“You mean to tell me that one squad did all this? Took you all out?”
The demand came from the front of the room. The Colonel sat slouched in his chair like some kind of sulky teenager as he click-click-clicked his pen against the table. The flush on his skin a good indicator of his mood. From the color, red deepening into purple, an explosion of epic proportions wasn’t far off. God, she hoped so—one less asshole in the world to deal with—but not until he’d given her the cure he’d promised.
“W-well, not all of us,” a soldier near the front of the room stammered, holding a field book and trying to flip the pages with his left hand in an awkward motion.
His right arm was bandaged up close to his body, the white dressing already starting to darken with blood. Toni’s mood took a nose dive. Half these men should be in the infirmary, not forced in here to perform like monkeys for a jumped-up fucktard like Fitzgerald.
“We’ve recovered all personal weaponry, and the two stolen vehicles. Both are in the motor pool for repair now. The g…” The man paused for a second, his dry swallow like the rasp of sandpaper in the silent room, before he forged on at breakneck speed. It was as if he were trying to get the words out before he was interrupted or his nerve failed him. “The gunships are a total loss and we lost seventy percent of the personnel we sent out. Of the remainder, we have twenty men in critical condition. Infirmary isn’t sure that they’ll survive the night and most of the rest are walking wounded.”
All eyes turned to Fitzgerald. He nodded, his expression thoughtful as the speed of the pen slowed. Toni held her breath. Those were some huge losses and casualties. Perhaps this would be the catalyst to kick Fitz’s humanity into gear. Surely no man could be that hardhearted? Could be unmoved when told so many of his men had lost their lives?
“So, I send the cream of our forces out…for what? So you can get your asses kicked by a bunch of fucking animals?
Hope died a swift death.
The Colonel surged to his feet, thickset body straining the buttons on his pressed and clean uniform. No blood and sweat for him. She doubted he’d even had so much as a fucking paper cut, sitting in his pretty office or armored car while good men and women went to their deaths.
“Got your fucking asses kicked good and proper. Loss of equipment… Do you idiots have any idea how much it costs to train you? Feed you? And for fucking what? So you can make a goddamn fool of me when you get out in the field?” he ranted, his voice rising and skin flushing deeper with each sentence. “I sent you out to put eight dogs down, now you tell me that fucking Fido and his pals handed it to you?”
He shook his head, pausing his tirade to run his hands through his short hair. The room still, the soldiers caught like rabbits in a headlight. No one dared move, or breathe, in case they brought down the Colonel’s ire on themselves. Toni didn’t blame them. Half looked dead on their feet, the other half bled into heavy dressings. This wasn’t fair on them in any way, shape or form.
Fitzgerald dropped his hands. “At least tell me some of the bodies can be used for the RA program.”
The sergeant who’d given the loss report flinched, looking away and refusing to meet the Colonel’s eyes. “No sir. The techs say they’re all too damaged.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Fitzgerald lost it, slamming his hand into the nearest table, his yell reverberating off the walls. “That at least would have recovered some of the losses of this clusterfuck. Who do you think is going to pay for those fucking gunships? Yeah, that’s right…my fucking budget. Next year you’ll be
“You mean to tell me that one squad did all this? Took you all out?”
The demand came from the front of the room. The Colonel sat slouched in his chair like some kind of sulky teenager as he click-click-clicked his pen against the table. The flush on his skin a good indicator of his mood. From the color, red deepening into purple, an explosion of epic proportions wasn’t far off. God, she hoped so—one less asshole in the world to deal with—but not until he’d given her the cure he’d promised.
“W-well, not all of us,” a soldier near the front of the room stammered, holding a field book and trying to flip the pages with his left hand in an awkward motion.
His right arm was bandaged up close to his body, the white dressing already starting to darken with blood. Toni’s mood took a nose dive. Half these men should be in the infirmary, not forced in here to perform like monkeys for a jumped-up fucktard like Fitzgerald.
“We’ve recovered all personal weaponry, and the two stolen vehicles. Both are in the motor pool for repair now. The g…” The man paused for a second, his dry swallow like the rasp of sandpaper in the silent room, before he forged on at breakneck speed. It was as if he were trying to get the words out before he was interrupted or his nerve failed him. “The gunships are a total loss and we lost seventy percent of the personnel we sent out. Of the remainder, we have twenty men in critical condition. Infirmary isn’t sure that they’ll survive the night and most of the rest are walking wounded.”
All eyes turned to Fitzgerald. He nodded, his expression thoughtful as the speed of the pen slowed. Toni held her breath. Those were some huge losses and casualties. Perhaps this would be the catalyst to kick Fitz’s humanity into gear. Surely no man could be that hardhearted? Could be unmoved when told so many of his men had lost their lives?
“So, I send the cream of our forces out…for what? So you can get your asses kicked by a bunch of fucking animals?
Hope died a swift death.
The Colonel surged to his feet, thickset body straining the buttons on his pressed and clean uniform. No blood and sweat for him. She doubted he’d even had so much as a fucking paper cut, sitting in his pretty office or armored car while good men and women went to their deaths.
“Got your fucking asses kicked good and proper. Loss of equipment… Do you idiots have any idea how much it costs to train you? Feed you? And for fucking what? So you can make a goddamn fool of me when you get out in the field?” he ranted, his voice rising and skin flushing deeper with each sentence. “I sent you out to put eight dogs down, now you tell me that fucking Fido and his pals handed it to you?”
He shook his head, pausing his tirade to run his hands through his short hair. The room still, the soldiers caught like rabbits in a headlight. No one dared move, or breathe, in case they brought down the Colonel’s ire on themselves. Toni didn’t blame them. Half looked dead on their feet, the other half bled into heavy dressings. This wasn’t fair on them in any way, shape or form.
Fitzgerald dropped his hands. “At least tell me some of the bodies can be used for the RA program.”
The sergeant who’d given the loss report flinched, looking away and refusing to meet the Colonel’s eyes. “No sir. The techs say they’re all too damaged.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Fitzgerald lost it, slamming his hand into the nearest table, his yell reverberating off the walls. “That at least would have recovered some of the losses of this clusterfuck. Who do you think is going to pay for those fucking gunships? Yeah, that’s right…my fucking budget. Next year you’ll be
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