Her chest heaving, her lips curling in a disgusted sneer, she growled, "He's drunk."
Korderas, who was Mahoney's squad leader, knelt on the man's back, keeping him pinned on the pavement. "What do you want to do about it, Sergeant? It's a clear case of assault from what I saw."
Linda fought back her first response, which was to beat the man senseless. She knew that wasn't the right answer, no matter how temporarily satisfying it might have been. Her stomach was tight and queasy as she quickly considered her options. Korderas was right, it was an assault. In fact it was sexual assault.
But Linda knew that regardless of how deserved a call to the Military Police and a court martial might be, there'd be blow back on her own career.
"I think we can handle this without official paperwork, don't you Sergeant Korderas?"
Korderas looked up, his eyebrow lifting. "You sure, Castellanos? I saw what I saw."
"I'm sure. Let's not bring a headache to the whole damn company because of this knucklehead," she said, even as she clenched and unclenched her fists to try and calm down. "Actually, you might want to let him up, he looks like he's about to puke."
Korderas got up, 'assisting' Mahoney to his knees while keeping his right arm twisted behind his back.
"Get it out of your system, Mahoney," he growled, holding the man by his shirt collar as he emptied his guts onto the pavement. "How much did you fucking drink tonight anyway?"
"I… blurch," Mahoney replied emptying some more. He retched twice before sagging. "Urgh."
"Goddammit," Korderas growled, hauling Mahoney to his feet. "You better be glad it's Saturday now, numbnuts. Because now I've got to stay up the rest of the night babysitting your ass to make sure you don't go into convulsions or choke on your own puke. And I don't enjoy the idea of fucking up my entire weekend because of you."
"Thank you Saaaarge," Mahoney slurred.
Korderas nearly threw the man to the ground again. Mahoney whimpered, his strength gone and the alcohol taking its toll. He started weeping, mumbling incoherently.
"Fuck," Korderas said, sighing. He looked at Linda, nodding. "Thanks. For keeping me clean too."
Linda nodded in understanding. If she called the MPs and Mahoney got arrested, it would reflect negatively on his entire chain of command, starting with his team leader and squad leader.
Korderas was a good NCO, he didn't need that sort of trouble on his record.
"You need any assistance, I'm at the desk."
"Might want to get into the company offices, get one of the combat lifesaver bags from supply," Korderas admitted. "This idiot might need a saline drip if he keeps puking his fucking guts out."
"Not a problem. We'll keep this amongst the enlisted, no need to get the officers involved," Linda said. "I just… fuck."
"If it helps, I know," Korderas said. "Not the details, but there's been whispers about your past, back home. That shit… I'm sorry you had to deal with this sack of shit."
"You didn't cause it, Kordy," Linda said, wanting to wipe her eyes to make sure there were no tears. "But thanks."
"No thanks needed until numbnuts here puts in his transfer paperwork to rotate out to the ass end of Alaska or maybe go bake his fucking ass off at Fort Bliss or somewhere else nice and vacationy," Korderas confirmed. "I'll handle that. Either way, if he ain't sorry for what he did now… he's going to be very, very, very sorry by the end of the week."
Linda helped Korderas get Mahoney back into the barracks, waving a couple of people back into their rooms when they came out to see what was going on. She was proud to see that Dawkins and Satomura from her own fire team looked ready to step in if need be, but she waved them back with a single look in her eyes.
"You okay, Sarge?" Dawkins asked after she went to sit back down at the desk. His room was on the far side of the barracks from the incident, and she knew that if he'd seen it go down, he'd have been there before Korderas.
"He's Kordy's problem now, you just go try and grab some rack," Linda said, touched.
Soldiers gossiped, yeah. But apparently her people cared about her, and that meant a lot. She wiped her hands on her uniform again, although this time because they were wet from having just washed them.
"Don't worry, if I need help, I'll holler for you."
"Good deal, Sarge. Goodnight." Dawkins went back to his room.
Linda nodded, drying her hands before picking up her book again. It was hard to focus, though. Her nerves were all over the place, and her stomach felt queasy even a half hour later.
What was the problem? She wasn't sure. It wasn't like it was the first time she'd had to handle herself, and in the overall scheme of threats she'd faced in her life, it was minor business. Even the similarity to her past assault incident didn't warrant this sort of reaction.
