Page 17 of Signed, SEALed, Delivered

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zach

“Hey, LT, you awake in there?”

Chief stood in the frame of my door, his hair still wet from his shower. I’d been staring at my laptop, half expecting a new email from Kennedy and knowing I needed to respond to my sister, Savannah.

“Hey, Chief, come on in.” I close the lid of my computer as he sits on the edge of my rack.

“Captain Brown asked if we would be willing to tag along with a patrol this afternoon, get a good look at some of the new guys and how they’re doing.”

“What time do we leave?” The last thing I wanted was to drag my ass back into the heat of the desert with a hundred pound pack on my back. Listening as these boys, pretending to be men, talked shit about what they did back home.

“Sixteen hundred, according to Ghost, it's been quiet for far too long.” I hated when the chatter over the radio dropped off, it meant they were waiting for us to do something, or had something planned. Either way, we would need to be on alert.

“Oh, one more thing.” Chief had risen to his feet and was halfway to the door, turning to look over his shoulder, his eyes apologetic. “Captain gave Ramsey the green light to come along.” Any hope of this being a quiet and uneventful patrol just rolled out the window.

Equipment had been checked, water supplies verified and all relevant questions answered. Ghost had chosen three guys to show them how to communicate without using the radio. Havoc wanted to walk in the lead position, needing to get this over with as soon as possible. Doc and I took the rear; he preferred to monitor the guys, watching for heat exhaustion and anyone being reckless. I liked to watch the locals as we passed, watch them as they waited for us to leave, seeing if they tried to contact anyone.

We hadn’t gone half way when one of the guys asked to stop and take a break. Reaper looked to me for direction. I nodded my approval for him to rain hell fire down on the piss ant.

“What the fuck you mean, take a goddamn break? We ain't reached the halfway mark and your poor tootsies already hurting.” Reaper had a way of getting your mind off stuff, while making you the butt of his jokes.

“Well too fucking bad, you pussy! Should have read the fine motherfucking print before you signed your life away to Uncle Sam.” The young man kept his eyes on his boots, trying to avoid the much larger man's taunting.

“Bet you're regretting all those hours you spent in your momma’s basement playing fucking Nintendo, instead of finding a pretty girl with a tight ass. You wasted too much time pretending you were shooting zombies, when you should have been bending some girl over the back of your couch and pounding her from behind, building up some stamina. Now all you got is your left hand and sweat running down you fucking butt crack.” A few snickers can be heard deep in the ranks, followed by the young man telling his friend to shut up.

“I bet your dick is too tiny, huh? Afraid to let the girls know you're working with something shorter than a tampon? That's all right, kid. A few months in this desert, you’ll be a walking, talking, fucking machine who can do back flips while wearing full gear.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two things. First, Ghost building up his momentum, doing a front flip beside Reaper. Second, a local woman stood beside an animal pen, a rifle in her hand, raising the barrel in our general direction.

“Three o’clock!” I shout as the first shot sounded from the woman's gun. Organized chaos spread among the men, who get as low to the ground as humanly possible, returning fire to sources unknown. Ramsey has his face in the dirt, hands glued to the backside of his neck, curled into the fetal position.

The sounds of gunfire were like dueling banjos between the men surrounding me, and the enemy in the rocks and shadows. Echoes of pinging of shells as they bounce off gear, boots and sides of helmets, surrounds us. A cloud of dust, created by the quick movements of the moment, dissipates revealing several bodies slumped over where the insurgents emerged from their hiding places.

A building, behind where the woman with the gun stood, muffles the sound of several men, yelling something sounding like, “move” or “mortar”, it's hard to tell over the noise surrounding me.

“Motherfucker.” Havoc swears from my left, a bullet having grazed his right shoulder.

“You hurt?”

“Fuck no, but the asshole tore my shirt.”

Havoc tucked himself behind a cluster of rocks, a wide rip in his sleeve and a pissed off look on his face. I know how he feels, having to replace a uniform once you get it broken in, trouble with a new uniform is the material is stiff as a fucking board and not warn in the right places.

“You gonna pick up that fucking gun or cuddle with it?” Reaper kicks at Ramsey, who has yet to open his eyes to the action he so desperately wanted to see. “Put a tampon in that fucking pussy of yours and get in this!” Another bullet buzzes past me as the voices in the shack become more frantic.

“Cock suckers!” Havoc yells as he tosses several grenades into the open doorway of the mud structure. Clanging and more shouted chaos rings out as the tiny balls of destruction bounce around inside. Less than a second later, the first of them detonates; creating a domino effect as whatever they had inside explodes, taking the mud and inhabitants with it. Dust and rocks rain down around us as Ramsey once again finds the ground to be his best friend.

“Everyone okay?” I hear Doc inquire as he jumps to his feet, ready to treat any wounded. I’d had him on nearly every mission, so I know his routine and how to read him. Havoc and Reaper have their guns raised, walking cautiously toward the smoking remnants of the building. Ramsey, finally decided to join the land of the living, watches the backs of the two men inch closer. As he stands, he stumbles and I look to see what had gotten in his way. Nothing catches my eye at first, until he turns around to face me and I notice the area at the top of his thighs. For all the shit Ramsey talks, the reality of real bullets flying at you has hit him square in the face, his fear evident in his wet crotch. Ramsey had pissed himself.

“Viper.” Havoc calls into my ear through the radio. I glance up in the direction I last saw him walking, noticing several pieces of wood smoldering with the last ounce of life they have. He and Reaper stand over what looks like a singed wooden crate. But it’s the piece of wood Havoc holds in his hand, which makes my blood boil. In block lettering, stenciled in perfectly clear English: C-4.

***

Every inch of my body aches as I climb into my bed. The hike back to base had been several degrees more somber, with the exception of Ramsey and the diaper jokes projected at him. Once back behind the barbed wire and illusion of safety, I woke the Captain up with news of the explosives we found. Aarash had managed to get his hands in the pocket of some bottom feeding, pieces of shit, who sold him stolen artillery.

Once upon a time I believed by training as hard as I did, I could help put an end to mad men like Aarash, making the world a safer place for my family and good people like Kennedy. Thinking her name gave me a surge of energy, a desire to know she was okay. Flipping open my laptop, my heart races as I waited for the Internet to connect.

To: Michaels, Zach. LT

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