Newcomer

Wendy reached into the bag of sweets. ‘Tell me about the proposal. I want all the juicy details.’ Callie’s voice turned tender as she recounted the memory. ‘Under a maple tree, the leaves painted in shades of autumn. He got down on one knee and asked me to be his forever.’ Wendy’s mouth formed a perfect letter ‘O’. ‘That’s so romantic! I’m excited and envious all at once.’ Callie’s curiosity shifted to her friend. ‘What about you?’ ‘What about me what?’ ‘You know, you and the dashing Captain Santana.’ Wendy shrugged. ‘We’ve had a date or two. Lemuel’s a cautious one, takes things slow. We’ll see where it goes. No hurry.’ Without Angelia there to rain on their parade, the two friends continued chatting well into the night after lights out. *** At the crack of dawn, the sound of the army reveille sliced through the air, rousing Callie and Wendy from their slumber. Callie’s eyes snapped open, embracing the familiar rhythm of the academy’s routine. She rose from her bed, ready to greet the day’s challenges head-on. With swift movements, Callie washed up. Turning to Wendy, she suggested, ‘Morning jog before breakfast?’ Wendy emitted a groan that echoed through the room. ‘Ugh, seriously? It’s like the universe wants us to suffer.’ Callie shot her a wry grin. ‘Come on, Wendy. It’s good for you.’ Wendy dragged herself out of bed, grumbling all the way. ‘Fine, fine. But you owe me big time for this.’ They changed into their jogging gear and made their way to the track. But as they arrived, they found the training ground already alive with the rhythmic movements of soldiers. Wendy’s eyes widened as she took in the view. ‘Well, well, looks like the show’s already started.’ Callie’s lips twitched as she slowed her pace. ‘Taking in the scenery, Wendy?’ Wendy’s gaze lingered on the well-built figures before her. ‘You know it. People-watching has become my new favourite hobby.’ ‘Won’t Lemuel be jealous to see you ogling other men?’ ‘As long as he doesn’t find out. Besides, it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything.’ Their attention shifted to the woman standing before the soldiers, a commanding presence impossible to ignore. Standing with her hands clasped behind her back and her posture erect, she exuded both stunning beauty and an air of authority. Wendy stopped jogging. ‘You know who that is?’ Callie shook her head. ‘No idea.’ Wendy speculated, ‘New cadet, maybe? But she’s got a high rank, for sure.’ Callie nodded in agreement. ‘Seems likely.’ As they observed the scene before them, Callie and Wendy couldn’t help but admire the woman’s confidence and allure. Her military uniform, cinched tightly at the waist, accentuated her tall, lithe figure. ‘She’s something else, isn’t she?’ Wendy mused. ‘Definitely.’ Meanwhile, the woman stepped forward. ‘Lieutenant Colonel Harriet Daniels from the Air Force,’ she introduced herself, her words carrying the weight of her rank. ‘I’m here for the week, and I’m looking for some healthy competition.’ A murmur swept through the crowd of soldiers, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. Callie and Wendy exchanged intrigued glances, sensing a challenge in the air. Harriet’s eyes swept over the gathering. ‘Any takers?’ The soldiers stirred. Then, from amidst the crowd, a slim figure in the second row raised his hand. ‘I’ll give it a shot.’ Harriet’s attention zeroed in on the soldier, and she noted the determined glint in his eyes. ‘Name and rank?’ ‘Private First Class Hoover, ma’am.’ ‘That’s the guy who picked us up from Sandsville on the first day.’ Wendy nudged Callie, who nodded. Harriet’s lips curved into a challenge-accepted smile. ‘You’ve got guts, Private Hoover. But are you sure you’re up for this?’ Jonas Hoover hesitated. Elias and Lemuel stood at the sidelines, observing the scene with keen interest. Lemuel guessed, ‘I bet she can take him down in ten moves.’ ‘Twenty,’ Elias said. ‘Oh, come on, sir! She took me out with twelve moves. There’s no way this guy can last longer than me.’ ‘Bet?’ ‘How much?’ ‘Ten bucks.’ ‘You are on.’ They shook hands on it. The soldiers had moved back to make space for the combatants. The air hummed with anticipation as Lieutenant Colonel Daniels squared off against Private First Class Jonas Hoover. Harriet’s stance was poised and focused. Across from her, Hoover’s expression held a mixture of determination and nerves. Harriet moved first and launched into a series of lightning-quick strikes, her limbs moving with the precision and grace of a dancer. Hoover’s reflexes kicked in. He dodged and weaved, guided by both instincts and training. But Harriet was a force to be reckoned with, her attacks unrelenting. A swift jab to the ribs, a spinning kick aimed at his torso—Harriet moved with the ferocity of a predator, her strikes fast and furious. Hoover countered, his own skills on display as he blocked and parried. Harriet’s speed was matched only by her accuracy, each move designed to exploit Hoover’s weaknesses. She weaved through his defences, her strikes hitting their mark with precision. Her nonstop onslaught of strikes, kicks, and punches left Hoover struggling to keep up. Harriet’s mastery of martial arts was evident in every move she made, her body a weapon honed to perfection. Hoover’s breath came in ragged bursts as he fought to regain his footing. Harriet moved with a fluidity that defied gravity, her speed a blur as she closed the distance between them. And then, in a final flurry of movement, Harriet executed a swift and powerful front leg sweep. Hoover hit the ground with a thud, his breath knocked from his lungs. Harriet stood victorious, her chest heaving with exertion, her face impassive. As the dust settled, the onlookers erupted into applause. ‘Eighteen moves.’ Elias extended a hand. ‘Pay up.’ Lemuel sighed. ‘You know I don’t carry cash, sir. I’ll give it to you tomorrow.’ Elias wasn’t surprised that Lemuel would lose the bet. People often made certain assumptions about Harriet, whose rapid rise through the ranks drew plenty of raised eyebrows. Many mistakenly thought her relationship with General Hershel was what got her promoted, but quickly discarded that opinion once they saw her on the battlefield. But sometimes, they’d need a bit more evidence. Another man in the crowd raised his hand. ‘Elden Beard, Sergeant. I’d like a match, ma’am.’