Briefing Hall, Rooivalk Military Bunker,

African Continent

Jinx stared straight ahead with her hands clasped behind her back. Soldiers waited in patient lines around her — each perfect replicas in posture, attitude and buzz cuts. Well, except for her, of course. She wouldn't let anyone come near her with a razor.

"What's this about, then?" Sergeant Jules demanded.

She glanced down at him with a frown. "How would I know?"

"Just thought you might have some inside info."

Jinx rolled her eyes to the ceiling, her lips compressing. So Pearce hadn't been kidding about the rumours. When had that started? And why?

"No, Jules. I know as much as you do."

She scanned the crowd again. Where was Pearce? Vanbuuren had summoned him hours ago.

Jules interrupted her train of thought. "Hey, what you doing tonight?"

"What?"

"Tonight. What you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Before that."

"Eating."

"Between eating and sleeping."

She glared at him. "Why?"

"Thought you might be up for a little... you know... rough and tumble." Jules glanced up at her, eyebrows hopping suggestively. She tightened the grip on her wrist and inhaled through her nose.

"Jules. The only action you're ever going to get from me is when I take you to the surface and kick the living shit—"

"Do you have something to share, Sergeant Jinx?"

Her head snapped forward. A sea of faces turned back to look at her. General Standers had arrived. He was paused halfway up the stairs to the dais, eyebrows lifted in enquiry. A blush raced up her neck. She shook her head and he nodded, resuming his journey.

Beside her, Jules snickered.

General Standers turned to face the neat rows of soldiers, his green eyes narrowing as he studied them. Rooivalk's two majors stood to either side, Vanbuuren on his left, staring fixedly into the crowd and Matthews on his right, eyes on the ceiling.

"These past few months have been difficult," General Standers said, his sonorous baritone pitched to reach every ear in the room. The general paced as he spoke.

"It is our duty to protect and serve not just the civilians of Rooivalk, but ourselves, too. But at least once a week, if not more, we meet with Wildebeest or Hyena in skirmishes up top. So far our losses have been minimal, but they've been consistent. The fact that the entirety of Rooivalk's military barely fills this room is a testament to the extent our troops have been depleted. And without these soldiers, without these men, how could we possibly fulfill our duty? How could we be expected to protect anyone?"

Jinx shook her head in commiseration.

The general wasn't a tall man, and not nearly the broadest in the army, but he walked with such confidence that he drew every eye to him. For a second his sweeping gaze touched her. Her breath caught, releasing when he looked away.

"To those recruits who haven't been to the surface yet, skirmishes with the Wildebeest colony constitute eighty percent of rival encounters up top."

Jinx shifted. Weren't they taught this stuff during induction anymore?

"The main reason for this being their close proximity to Rooivalk—" the general continued "—with their colony only three hundred kilometers northwest."

She glanced around. Still no Pearce. Where was he?

"That's why we were so—" Standers paused and glanced up at the two majors "—surprised to receive a communication from Wildebeest this morning."

Jinx's attention snapped back to the general, her throat tightening. The man paused. His hands slid behind his back, emulating the pose of the soldiers facing him. Jinx ground her teeth.

"It appears Wildebeest have had a change in regime."

A whisper chased through the crowd. Standers tipped his head, eyes fixing on the ceiling. A hush cloaked the room and the general began pacing again.

"Their Leider Petrus was deposed a fortnight ago by a man named Leo."

Being an avid supporter of Rooivalk's democracy, the twist on the general's mouth spoke volumes about his opinion of Wildebeest's strong-arm social structure.

"While this would normally not interest us in the least, the communication further suggested the negotiation of a peace treaty."

A chorus of exclamations rose from the gathered soldiers. Men held whispered debates with each other. General Standers shook his head, pitching his voice over the murmur.

"A peace treaty would give us time to recoup our losses. We would be able to hold more extensive training exercises on the surface to strengthen new troops. And it would give us the opportunity to increase the size and frequency of our scouting parties."

The voices died down. Standers stopped in the middle of the dais, glancing over his shoulder at the two majors. Pins and needles surged in Jinx's fingers. She massaged her wrist, her eyes fixed on the general.

"As with all things, the negotiation comes at a price." Again the voices chorused. Standers raised his hands. "From both sides."

"What the hell is he on about?" Jules muttered.

She glanced down at the man and rolled her shoulders. Jules glowered at Standers, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Sure he's going to tell us," she said as quietly as possible. She'd never gotten the hang of whispering.

"The new Leider suggested a temporary soldier exchange as a sign of good faith." The general paused, but no one spoke out against the announcement. "And also to aid in the transference of ideas. If the peace treaty is deemed a success, then our two colonies would consider forging an alliance."

Shock resonated in the air. A vein in Jinx's neck began throbbing. A soldier exchange. Rooivalk soldiers in Wildebeest.

"He means spies," Jules said.

"Shut up."

"Transference of ideas?" He snorted. "They want to spy on us."

"We'll have men there, too." She smiled. And Jinx would be one of them.

"Think they'll let that happen? Whoever they send will be killed off first chance they get."

"Us or them?"

"Both."

She opened her mouth to argue. But he was right. Her shoulders slumped. The crowd had quietened enough for the general to proceed.

"A team of twelve men will form the Rooivalk contingent. Major Matthews and Major Vanbuuren have agreed to each select two sergeants from their squad. The sergeants will then appoint four privates to make up the remainder of the contingent. Major Matthews?"

The general stepped back and Matthews nodded to him before taking his place.

"Sergeant Hodges," Matthews barked. The crowd murmured as Hodges entered the briefing hall, his bulk rising head and shoulders above the crowd.

"Sergeant Quinn."

Quinn walked in and stood beside Hodges. They made a strange pair — Quinn as tall as Hodges was wide, Hodges as pale as Quinn was dark.

Major Matthews glanced at Vanbuuren and retreated. Vanbuuren stepped forward. Jinx's heart kicked her ribcage.

"Sergeant Pearce," Vanbuuren said.

Jinx's eyebrows shot up.

Pearce walked into the room and took his place on the other side of the dais. He turned a blank face to the crowd. Jinx stretched her neck, trying to catch his eye, but he was either ignoring her or he'd gone blind. She was next.

Her fingertips tingled in anticipation.

"Sergeant Nieman."

Jinx's mouth twitched as she stared at them, her eyes wide. What had just happened? Why hadn't Vanbuuren—

Jules let out a sigh. "Shit, that was close," he said.

"Shut up," Jinx snapped, scowling at a soldier that turned back at the sound of her raised voice.

"I thought they were going to ask us to volunteer," Jules continued.

Jinx tensed as she processed the man's words.

She stabbed her hand into the air. "I volunteer!" she yelled.

Every face turned to stare at her.

General Standers gazed at her hand and then back at her face. "What?"

"I'd like to—" she lowered her voice "—volunteer?"

"We have enough men, Sergeant."

"But I'd really like to go, sir." She snapped closed her jaw. Too late. Her palms were sweating, warmed by the hundreds of eyes on her.

"I didn't request volunteers." The general exited the room.

Jinx sank back on her heels as her stomach slid to her feet. Her eyes flicked to Vanbuuren, but his face was solidified by apathy. When she shifted her gaze to Pearce he frowned at her and gave his head a small shake. Then he executed a perfect about-turn and strode out after Vanbuuren.

The rows of men began clearing the room. A few glanced back at her with either frowns or smirks on their faces. Jinx slumped. For once she despised her height. It was impossible to fade into the background. A familiar pressure built behind her eyes; a preface to hot, embarrassing tears. She bit down on her lip — a tried and tested method of keeping the bastards at bay. The more the tears wanted to come, the harder she bit.

"What's wrong with you?" Jules asked.

Her voice warbled. "Nothing."

"Why the hell would you want to go with them? They're all going to die."

"Just forget it."

"You're a fucking psycho." The man turned, waiting to file out of the room.

Jinx's gaze stuck to the floor as they began to move, her fingers curling into a fist.

She could taste blood in her mouth — and the door was still a long way off. 

. . .