Blood Lily Company - Afghanistan, year 1

LXXXVIII

And the next day, our recruits arrived.

Alright... I guess I need to elaborate a bit, because... Let's see, where do I start? Well, at the beginning, I guess.

So the helicopter, an E-assault of the French Army, from Abu Dhabi, landed on our makeshift heliport. It was sunny, warm and calm. Not a whiff of wind.

First we picked up our weekly supplies net, then the helicopter landed.

We saw seven people get off. Weird, Lin had spoken of six recruits.

Lin and the brothers were waiting in the courtyard, so Dio and I picked up the recruits, while Curly, Jude, Clem and Alma took care of hanging up the net and the old pallet to the helicopter which took off again, then arranging for the moving of supplies to the store or mess hall.

On the sly, I stole a look at our future comrades. But I will introduce them later. Dio walked off and they followed, I brought up the rear. They all walked in step, although there were subtle differences. They aligned on Dio's pace fairly quickly, except for one, who looked at his neighbor's feet, hopped once or twice and then aligned too. Interesting. Especially since two of the recruits did not need to align on Dio, they were immediately at the same pace. But we only had one Frenchman on the list...

Bizarre.

And then they were in front of Lin and the brothers. And I saw, on the faces of the three Icelanders, an expression of discreet joy, quickly hidden under the soldier's mask. But in the Viking's eyes, a spark was shining. He said a few words to Lin in Icelandic, who replied in the same language.

Well, well.

Well, the first recruit was not one. Lin approached the woman, who had her bush hat tucked tightly over her lowered head and she inhaled deeply. Then:

- Welcome back, Ketchup.
- Thank you Lin, said the pretty redhead looking up with a big smile.
- Come on, go see your husband, and no nonsense.

A peal of laughter later, Ketchup sped off to the mess hall to find Cook. Mustard came out right after, closing the door behind her.

A tall guy with brown hair and almond-shaped gray eyes came forward, followed by an equally brown-haired but shorter guy with golden brown eyes and, behind him, a third guy, the one who had been hopping, dark blond with eyes almost as light as mine, not really thinner than the other two, but a little less sure of himself, with a different posture. A civilian, no doubt.

- Corporal Mikhail Baliakov!
- Private Nikolai Voronov!

The two had introduced themselves in French, rolling the R's. Erk stepped forward, arms wide open.

- Mischa! Kolia! Welcome, guys!

And he engulfed the grey-eyed dude in a polar bear hug. Same for the other. Kris followed, a big smile on his face, which withered a little, but only slightly, when the gaze of the brunette with golden eyes shifted to the blonde.

- Kris, this is my husband, Alexei Voronov.
- Kolia, I'm happy for you! Hello Alexei. Welcome. We already know Kolia and Mischa...
- Yes, they told me about you... and the tigers.

Oh. Siberia.

- Oh. And they told... everything?
- Yes, said Alexei with a knowing little smile.

Kris blushed slightly. The Russian continued.

- I was almost jealous of you, Kris, because Kolia speaks of you with great affection.

Kris was blushing hard enough to seem painful. There was a story between Kolia and Kris, that was for sure. I looked away for a moment, to give Kris time to compose himself, and my eyes fell on Erk and Mischa, then. The giant was leaning forward, and the Russian was touching his throat. Weird.