23. Annalise
Chapter twenty-three
Annalise
“I’m just saying,” Emily pushes dramatically, walking backward in front of Ian and me as we walk down the stairs from Environmental Studies toward Strategy and stressing me out with every step.
“If the entire point of the exercise was to teach us how to identify an ambush site, perhaps they could have left out the part where we were actually ambushed!”
Ian snorts. “That would have made the lesson far less memorable.”
“It made it traumatic."
“You were hit with paint.”
“High-caliber paintballs! In our real clothes!”
I laugh, and Emily points at me accusingly.
“Oh, shut up! Just because you managed to find the high ground and shoot them instead…”
“You mean like we were supposed to do?”
“You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“I am. And I love you…polka dot outfit and all.”
She mutters “Bitch,” under her breath as we round the corner leading to the Strategy classroom just before I spot Matt.
He’s leaning against the stone railing outside the doors with Sasha beside him, both of them talking over each other.
He catches sight of us and immediately grins. “There they are.”
Emily throws an arm around my shoulders as we approach. “Your brother is obnoxious.”
“True…but endearing,” I say as he passes me a steaming cup of coffee.
Matt smiles down at me. “How was Environmental Tactics? Didn’t I tell you the paintball course was amazing?”
“What? You got a warning and you didn’t tell us?” Emily shrieks.
“You were there!” I laugh, pointing at Emily. “Remember, you were talking about how you grew up shooting paintball guns and the rest of the class better watch out.”
“Well…he failed to mention the part where Clowessian artillery is multi-colored and leaves bruises.”
“That would be because I didn’t get shot,” he says with a wink.
Sasha folds her arms, “Thanks for not bragging or anything,” she deeply sighs, though to be fair, I’m not sure if it’s because I spent over an hour putting a healing salve on her bruises yesterday, or because it was, and I quote, “So easy you could make it, Lee,” and yet she still wasn’t allowed to make her own batch.
“It was supposed to simulate a northern push,” Matt tells us. “They've been adapting their tactics.”
“What do you mean?”
He glances toward the doors. “Inside.”
We follow him, and only once we’re seated does he lean forward, elbows on his knees.
“The simulation wasn't just an ambush exercise,” he says quietly. “It was modeled after what Clowess has been doing along the eastern front.”
I straighten.
“They're pushing farther north?”
Matt nods.
“That's why they had us move through the ravine instead of taking the ridge. The ridge would've been the obvious defensive position, but Clowess has been baiting Thandroanian units into taking elevated ground.”
“How?”
“They've been leaving it lightly defended.”
Ian's brows draw together. “To make us think it's safe.”
“Exactly.” Matt points toward the table between us. “You take the high ground because that's what you're taught. Better visibility. Better defensive advantage. Except if they've already anticipated that, the high ground becomes a trap.”
Sasha nods. “They've been using small infantry units to draw soldiers into position, then hitting them from the flanks.”
“And the east coast?” I ask.
Matt's jaw tightens. “They've started pushing farther inland.”
The words settle over us as I remember the maps from Strategy earlier in the year. The towns along the eastern coast. The supply routes. The narrow stretches of defensible terrain.
“Why?”
“Pressure.” Matt's answer comes immediately. “They're trying to force us to spread our forces thin. If we keep shifting troops to meet them to the East, we weaken the southern defenses.”
Sasha looks at me. “And if we don't?”
“They keep taking towns,” Matt says simply.
Before I can ask anything else, Major Calderon strides into the room and all conversation dies instantly.
“Good. You're all awake.”
Emily whispers, “Debatable,” and Ian coughs to cover a laugh.
Major Calderon sets a stack of maps on the desk.
“Today we're discussing defensive strategy during an advancing-front conflict.”
I glance at Matt—his entire demeanor changes in seconds, shoulders straightening as his attention locks onto Calderon.
The lecture begins with maps, supply lines, troop movements, terrain, and Clowess's recent advancement along the eastern coast. Everything Matt just said and so much more.
Major Calderon puts a map on the board and begins marking locations where Clowess has broken through Thandroanian defenses.
“Why did this unit fail?”
A hand goes up. “Insufficient manpower.”
“Partially.”
Another.
“Poor communication between Vanguard and Dragon units.”
“Correct, but incomplete.”
Major Calderon looks around.
“What else?”
Silence.
Then Matt raises his hand.
“The commander reinforced the breach instead of withdrawing the northern unit.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed the breach was the primary objective.”
“Show us,” Calderon says, extending his marker in wait.
Matt walks toward the map.
“It wasn't the primary objective.”
Calderon gives the faintest smile, the first I can remember seeing. “Explain.”
Matt points toward the map, “They weren't trying to take this position.” He moves his finger farther north, and several recruits lean forward, more attentive now than I’ve seen them all year.
“They wanted us to think they were, because if Clowess takes this town, we always reinforce it. That draws troops away from the supply route here. Then they hit the route.”
He taps the map.
“Once we lose supplies, we have a history of either retreating or diverting another unit to protect the route. Either way, they've achieved their objective without ever needing to hold the original position.”
The room is silent.
Major Calderon studies him.
“And what would you do?”
Matt doesn't hesitate when he says, “Let them take it.”
A few people shift and Calderon raises an eyebrow, shocked or impressed, I’m not sure.
“Explain.”
“Withdraw the northern unit before they can trap it. Keep the supply route defended. Let Clowess occupy the town. We should be focused on cutting off their retreat.”
Calderon folds his arms. “You'd willingly surrender territory?”
“For a position we don't actually need in a town that’s been long abandoned? Absolutely. We aren’t protecting anyone or anything by preventing their entry, but if we can cutoff their return routes, they walk right into our trap.”
Something in me clicks; Mattey hasn’t just been learning strategy theories, he’s learning to read the battlefield differently. Look at what Clowess is doing and why, and then find a way to stop them from doing it again.
Major Calderon gestures to the map, “And what would you call that?”
“Strategic bait.”
Calderon nods approvingly. “Exactly. Go ahead and take your seat...And impressive job.”
He turns toward the class.
“Recruit Reyes has identified the primary principle of today's lesson. A commander who reacts to every movement his enemy makes has already surrendered the initiative.
“There is a difference between winning ground and winning a war. It’s imperative the people we trust to lead us, remember that difference.”
Matt returns to his spot beside me, catching me staring at him almost instantly.
I shake my head. “You’re fucking incredible at this.”
Matt grins, "I had a lot of time to study while you healed. And the books were far better company than the ogre sitting in the living room."
That’s how he passed nearly two weeks of me being unconscious and then unable to train. Hours upon hours lying in the bed beside me with books he'd pulled from Hunter's shelves.
Strategy books, military theory, whatever else Hunter has that he’d let Matt borrow and read them while I slept.
I'd teased him about the giant stack when I’d noticed them, and he'd told me he'd only skimmed them when he was bored. I had no idea he’d learned all of this.
The lecture continues, and Matt answers question after question, not always correctly, but often enough that Major Calderon starts directing questions specifically at him.
And every answer is thoughtful and measured.
Patterns and predictions of movements.
It's crazy to see how far everyone has come in the time I've been gone.
Emily is faster, stronger, and somehow even more terrifying.
Sasha has sharpened her spell work.
Even Ian has become slightly more confident with healing.
But Matt?
Matt blows me away, sitting beside me like he alone will find a way to end this war, and I couldn't be prouder.
By the time we leave for lunch, my brain hurts.
The moment my cell phone buzzes, I pull it from my pocket and open the incoming string of messages.
Susan: Annalise, I'm so sorry. Something urgent came up and we won't be able to make the Track Gala.
Susan: I feel terrible!
Susan: We will absolutely be there for Graduation, though, as long as you still want us. I'm so sorry, sweetheart!
Susan: Love you!!
I stare at it longer than I mean to, a tiny ache settling beneath my ribs.
The Track Gala—I haven’t really had time to think about it since I woke up, but I'd been looking forward to seeing her and Mike so much!
Graduation though—that's what matters.
I stop walking.
“Sasha. Matt. Photo!”
Matt immediately looks suspicious, “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Sasha steps beside me, grinning, and Matt groans but leans in anyway.
"Smile nice Matt or I just might slip a special tonic in your drink tonight," Sasha sings, instantly drawing our eyes away from the phone to find the sweetest smile on her face.
"Uhm, who are you psycho and what have you done with with bubbly fairy who can't hurt a fly?" Matt laughs.
"I think she's been hanging out with us too long, Mattey. We broke her!"
"Would you two shut up and take the picture already? I'm starving!"
My stomach growls at the mention of food, and I quickly snap a picture to send it to Susan, all of our smiles extending ear-to-ear.
Me: Can't wait to see you at graduation! Love you!
Sasha sighs dramatically.
“Antonio isn't going to be there either.”
I glance at her.
“He's not?”