Atlas Reloaded - Book Five of the Damned of the 2/19th

Another Easy Atlas Morning

The mechanic looked up from where he'd been examining the engine of the 4K forklift, shaking his head at what he'd found.

"It's deadlined. Looks like a blown valve cover gasket," he told me.

"How long to get it running?" I asked. I waved my hand at the twenty-four forklifts in the shed. Twelve 4K's, six 6K's, four rough terrain 4K's, and a pair of rough terrain 6K's. All but the two 6K's me and Red had used yesterday had red and/or yellow grease paint on the windshields marking deadlines and the date they were taken out of service.

"This one? Hour, maybe two, if there's no other defects, working by myself," he said. "You got parts?"

I nodded, pointing at the shelves at the back of the shed and the tool benches. "Got everything you'd need, a fabrication set up, and all the tools you'd need."

"Why haven't they been fixed before now?" he asked me.

"Priority was getting some of the big boys up and running," I told him, jerking my thumb toward where Dinosaur Row was. "We've got six 10K rough terrains, four 50K rough terrains, and a pair of 100K rough terrain lifts out there, along with the cranes and four CONEX lifters, all of which had priority."

"How many of them are running?" he asked.

"Two 10K and one of the 100K, one 10K crane, and a single CONEX lifter," I told him. "I've got two mechanics out here, that's it, and prior to this operation, their permissions to do Third Shop level repairs had been revoked."

"Well, permissions are back to pull Third Shop, so I'll start on these," he said. "I got ten of my men with me, so we'll start after breakfast."

I just nodded.

"That Captain wants me to submit work orders on all of them," He said, shaking his head. "I liked your way better, Corporal, if I'm going to be honest."

I just shrugged.

"Hate it when they change shit up just to dick polish some officer," the mechanic grunted. "Hang all lawyers, politicians, and officers."

I just grinned.

"All right. After breakfast we'll get started on fixing the forklifts first, then I'll prioritize either by your list you gave me yesterday or by whatever the Captain tells me," he said. He looked at me. "What about that piece of shit pickup truck of yours?"

"The Gypsy Wagon? What about it?" I asked.

"You've got a damaged timing gear, cracked manifold, and God knows what else wrong with that wreck," he told me. I just shrugged and he shook his head. "Well, it runs, and your radioman seems to be content with it."

"Gypsy Wagon always starts, always gets us where we're going," I said.

"Then unless the LT directly orders otherwise, I'll hit it up last since it looks like one of the few running CUC-V's in this shit hole," He told me. He sighed. "Well, I'm gonna go to breakfast."

"Have fun," I told him, climbing in the forklift I'd used yesterday.

He just grunted and walked out, not bothering to close the engine cover on the fork he'd been examining. Red came in, hands in his pockets and softcap on backwards, his helmet hanging from his LBE.

"Sup?" He asked, digging his cigarettes out.

"That faggy LT came in and lisped at me to get my shit and go downrange and start loading trailers," I said. "Should broke off some of his ribs at the spine for him."

Red snorted. "Henley ripped him a new asshole. Notice he didn't ask for your pistol."

I nodded. "What bunker you working in?" I asked.