Captured: Dreaming of home
© Copyright 2008 – 2009
Written by Banzai Ben
ben@banzaiben.com
Chapter 7 – Sniper School
Thursday 06 September 2007
Khudabah, Pakistan – Day
eight
I made it through another night
without the fucking rats eating me alive. I’ve gotten better at killing the
bastards – got fifteen of them last night. Too bad I can't add them to my
kills.
I’ve lost track of the days
I’ve been here. It must be over a week now. Since it’s morning, they will start
the tortures again soon. At least they’ll take me down from the ceiling and tie
me to the chair.
After the morning guard beat
the shit out of me for kicking him and left me hanging all day, I decided that
I have to pick my battles better, save my strength and watch for a chance to
escape.
I’m not sure what they’re
planning on doing with me. At first when they tortured me, they’d ask me
questions, but I didn't answer any of them. Now they just torture me during the
day just for the joy of it, when they don't have some other amusement like the
girl they raped and killed. I know they get off on hanging me up at night to
let the rats continue trying to eat me alive.
I hear the guards coming, and
their laughter sends a current of apprehension through me. What sort of evil
have they planned now? Uh-oh. I don't think this is good; they have a big box
with them. Even knowing they’re doing it so that they can apply some new
torture, I’m relieved when they take me down and over to the bed to tie me up.
My shoulders hurt in a way I didn’t think was possible, and now that I’m on the
ground, I find I’m getting weak and can't walk very well.
Son-of-a-bitch! Those bastard
towelheads just dumped three or four pissed off scorpions on me. They're big
and brownish-black, and they’re stinging the hell out of me. Shit! It makes
them more pissed when I move. I make myself stay still.
Ah, that's better. Now
they’re just crawling on me without stinging. Listen to those fucking camel
jockeys laughing at me. The venom is taking effect. I feel sick, and my heart
is racing.
I wonder if this will kill me
. . .
No. I will not die today. I
can’t escape in body, but I can in mind.
Kaneohe Bay Hawaii –
Thursday Day Five
Jens and I woke up at the same
time in the morning, still holding each other. I remembered the previous night
and wondered for a moment whether it had really happened, but there we were,
still holding each other.
I looked into Jens' eyes,
“Good morning, my beautiful fiancée.”
“Good morning, my handsome
fiancé,” she replied, and continued, “Can't you hold me for just a little while
longer?” and batted her eyes.
“I could hold you all
day.” I gave her an extra squeeze. “But we have to get ready for the sniper
contest. Today, we will start with PT – it’s shoulders, chest, and triceps
again – and then we’re going to practice our concealment and stealth
techniques. DI Anderson and his platoon are going to be our targets. They’ll
have full weapons and we’ll have knives only.” I petted her back while I spoke.
“Mmmm,” she sighed. “I like
this style of morning briefing.” She gave me a smoldering kiss.
I returned the kiss with heat
of my own, swatted her on her butt, and said, “Up and at em:
'The woods are lovely, dark
and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And people to kill before I sleep',” paraphrasing a Robert Frost poem.
Jens laughed. “You know, I
thought gung-ho Marine Recon snipers weren't supposed to read poetry. But you just
quoted Robert Frost to me, and earlier it was Shakespeare. Are you sure you
aren't a poser?”
That earned her another swat,
this one a little harder. “You know I spent a lot of time alone and I read a
lot. I have a few favorite poems that I’ve memorized.”
“Well, I guess you still have
some surprises for me,” Jens answered. “How about another poem – one of your
favorites?”
“Just part of it because we
don't have the time.” I started reciting:
“'Half a league, Half a
league, Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!' he said:
Into the valley of Death Rode
the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:'”
Jens purred, “Oh, I love
Tennyson.” And she continued:
“Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why, Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death Rode
the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them, Cannon
to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and
shell, Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death, Into
the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres
bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while All
the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian Reel'd
from the sabre-stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and
shell, While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade ?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!'”
I smiled. “Yet another thing
we have in common.
“Well, my love, let's get
moving. If you're really good I might recite some more poetry for you tonight.”
I said.
We jumped up and headed to
our separate bathrooms. I beat Jens out, so I started coffee and breakfast. We were
having oatmeal again that morning with fresh blackberries and raspberries, and
of course the toast with butter and honey. Jens came out with a different
t-shirt, another one of my favorites: “Kill them all, let God sort them
out.”
“Thanks for making breakfast,
my fiancé,” Jens remarked. “Tell me, am I your honey?”
“You’re my honey and you’re
my fiancée,” I replied.
“So, if I sit on this toast .
. . will you eat me?” She laughed.
I was taking a drink of
coffee when she said that and it made me choke. I thought, “I’m going to fix
her this time.”
I pretended to keep coughing
and acted like I was choking.
Jens came over and started
whacking me on my back trying to make me better, so I decided to keep up the charade
and I fell to the floor. She knelt down over me, didn't know what to do, and
then decided to give me mouth to mouth.
Once she got her mouth on
mine, I hugged her tight and gave her a huge kiss with lots of tongue. At first
she protested and tried to pull away, but then she was making moaning noises
and was kissing back enthusiastically.
Finally we broke for air,
“You big faker, you. You really had me worried,” Jens chided.
“Turnabout is fair play,” I
answered. “Besides, I know how hard it is to get you to give me a good kiss.”
She answered by lying on top
of me and giving me one that curled my toes, “Well, Marine, was that good
enough for you?”
After I caught my breath I
answered, “Just barely,” and smiled.
Jens whacked my arm. “See if
I give you another one then.” She pretended to act all huffy.
I pulled her down and gave
her my best kiss, and after we both caught our breath, I said, “Unfortunately,
we can't do this all day. We need to get moving.”
I let go of her, and she sat
up on my chest and grabbed my hands as I pulled them off her back. She forced
them over my head, pinning them to the floor, and announced, “I have you now,
and I'm not going to let you go!”
I easily slipped her grip and
flipped her over so that I was on top, and pinned her arms the same way. “Now I
have you!”
She wrapped her legs around
me and pulled me close. “I wondered what you’d feel like on top,” and batted
her violet eyes at me.
I switched both of her hands
into my left hand and started tickling her with my right hand. She started
squirming, trying to get loose. She was very ticklish. I filed that away for
later use.
“Hey, no fair. You’re
fighting dirty,” she complained.
“Everything is fair in love
and war,” I said before I stopped tickling her, gave her another small kiss,
and got up.
“Well, it looks like your
little Marine liked that,” she said as she eyed the bulge in my crotch.
My cheeks burned. She looked
at me and exulted, “You’re blushing. I won!” I helped her up and we finally
headed off to the gym for PT.
As we were jogging to the
gym, I looked over and noticed that her finger was bare. “So you're tired of me
already? I see you aren't wearing our ring,” I cajoled.
“I'll never grow tired of you,
my love. You’re the most wonderful and exciting man in the world. The ring is
right here, next to my heart.” She reached into her t-shirt and pulled out the
ring on a very stout gold chain she wore around her neck. “I wanted to keep it
with me always, but I didn't want it to get damaged. So when we’re in the
field, I’ll wear it here. Otherwise you can bet it will be on my finger. I want
everyone to know that I’m taken.”
That's my woman – smart and
practical.
Today may have been shoulder,
chest and triceps again, but we used a different workout from Monday. We
switched the routine so we worked the muscles differently, boosting growth.
Seated Arnold presses, standing multi-shoulders, incline hammer presses, and
decline dumbbell presses worked for strength, but there’s nothing better
functionally for the shoulder than hand stand pushups, so we did those just
like Monday. We finished off the functional exercises with rotation wing
pushups. Then, going back to strength workouts for the triceps, we did close-grip
bent barbell presses and single-arm dumbbell skull-crushers.
Since Jens was with me, we
sparred for awhile. Jens bugged me until I finally started showing her some
Brazilian Capoeira, but we needed to get back to the house and get our ghillie
suits1 for the fun we were going to have with DI Anderson's platoon,
so pretty soon, we called it quits.
We stopped by the motor pool
and picked up a Humvee to haul all our gear for the training this afternoon. When
we got back to our house, Jens took my hand, led me into our bedroom, and
pulled me down beside her on the bed.
“Jens,” I said, “We don't
have time for this.”
“Oh, yes we do. This is our strategy
and briefing session,” She punctuated her reply with a kiss and continued.
“Today's rules of engagement are that DI Anderson's platoon will be using M4's
with the new USMC Sniper Simulation2 on them. They'll look, feel and
sound just like the real M4 but will fire a laser beam. If it hits our vests
it's counted as a kill. We will have our ghillie suits and kabars. It
will take two touches with the knife to count as a kill. The platoon will be
using normal platoon and searching techniques. That’s their weakness. We're
allowed total freedom in tactics. We're seriously out-manned and out–gunned,
and DI Anderson has a bet with all the other DIs that his platoon is going to
kill us easily.
I looked at her and kissed
her. “So where did you learn to be such a tactician?”
“I studied military tactics
in college and spent all my spare time playing paintball. After I got really
good at paintball, I had a standing bet, anyone that shot me, got me. No one
ever won that bet, but they sure tried.” She continued. “Actually, the bet
worked to my advantage because it got the guys all hot and bothered. You should
know that in a tactical situation I’m always looking for the advantage. Let’s
get back to this training exercise.”
Well, I was flabbergasted.
Not only was she incredibly beautiful, she was incredibly intelligent. I gave
her a kiss on the nose.
“Ben, if you were to go
running in there like you normally would do, you would be dead in about thirty
minutes with odds like this. I’ve run the scenario through my computer and
using your normal tactics, that’s what happens every time.
“Marine, that is not
acceptable odds to me. I want to grow old with you and have our children, so if
you don't want to sleep in the barracks tonight, you’d better listen to me and
follow the tactics that I’ve come up with. And get this macho Indian bullshit
out of your head: that, 'today is a good day to die'. If I hear you say that
ever again I'm going to kick your butt!
“DI Anderson and the platoon
will be looking for us in our ghillie suits, that's their tactical advantage.
But we won't be in our ghillie suits for the entire exercise. We'll have them
out there as a decoy. We’ll be wearing . . . she jumped up and opened her
closet – the exact same gear as the platoon, even down to the M4's, but our
M4's will not be functional. Follow me into the extra bedroom, my love.”
She led me into the extra
bedroom. Damn, it was nice walking behind her. She walked over to a small
corner table, started it up (It was running Ubuntu Linux), and logged in. A
couple of clicks later she had an overhead map view of the training area
showing all the trails and footpaths. She went to the menu and executed a
command called Banzai. I could see representations of Marines moving through
the training area.
“You're the sexy red heart;
the ghosts are DI Anderson's platoon. She explained. This is running at ten
times normal speed. Watch what happens.”
Son of a bitch if 'Banzai'
didn't do exactly what I would've done and in three minutes “Banzai” was dead.
As he died, I heard the Pac Man death song. She ran it three more times. Each
one was different than before other than Banzai doing what I would have thought
was the best, and each time Banzai died. Damn, I was beginning to hate that
music.
“Tell me, Marine, do I have
your attention?” she asked, and I nodded my head affirmative. “Okay, watch
this.”
She executed a different
command, Jens's BP1, and the screen reset. There were two red hearts sitting at
the entrance to the training area. The ghosts walked right past the red hearts.
As the last ghost passed, the red hearts moved out, and the last ghost
disappeared. The red hearts moved up, and the next ghost disappeared, then the
red hearts moved off to the side and crossed over to another trail. The ghosts
passed the hearts on this trail, and again after the last ghost passed, the red
hearts moved and took out that ghost and moved up and took out the next one.
They moved again. The red hearts looked like they were standing in the middle
of a different trail, but they were now flashing.
She looked at me and paused
the scenario. “According to the rules of engagement, we could just take the
rifles off the dead men and use them, but that would be too easy. By now the
ghosts are going to be wise to this tactic, so we have to change. The hearts
have moved into the trees over the trail and we're in our ghillie suits.”
She continued the scenario.
The rest of the ghosts finally walked under the trees and something that looked
like a net dropped on them. The hearts stop flashing, and four of the ghosts
disappeared. The hearts moved away to a lake and started flashing again.
She paused the simulation,
looked at me, and smiled. “How many times have you ever attacked anyone from
the water?”
“None,” I replied.
“Most people don't even think
they can be attacked from the water. That's a huge tactical advantage. The lake
here is only waist deep, and sooner or later, DI Anderson's platoon will cross
it. When they do, we're going to take the last seven.
“We will have masks, fins,
and snorkels, so we won't even have to come out of the water. Two touches on
the ghosts' legs and they will be dead.” She had an evil gleam in her eyes.
She continued the scenario.
It took a bit, but the last seven of the platoon spread out and started across
the lake. The hearts continued to flash and move to each ghost and then the
ghost would disappear. Finally, the last ghost was gone and the computer
started playing the wedding march.
I looked at Jens, one brow
arched.
She gave a little giggle. “I
like that song, so I thought it would be the best for when we win. Because
we’ll really win when I walk down the aisle to that song.” she smiled at me.
She ran the simulation three more times, and each ended with the wedding march.
“Unfortunately, this plan
isn't totally foolproof. It is successful only ninety-eight percent of the
time. This pisses me off, but I haven't been able to figure out anything else
to make it one hundred percent,” she said.
I had a million questions. I
had just started to speak when she cut me off.
“My love, I know you have a
bunch of questions, but we don't have the time for them right now. We need to
get to the training area. We’ll have a thirty-minute head start to get everything
set up. I think DI Anderson going to be buying a lot of beer tonight.”
She stood up and I hugged her
and kissed her. “My love, I don't know what to say. I'm speechless.”
“Wait until tonight when I
show you the analysis of your past missions, there’s one mission that only has
a ten percent survival rate. I was so pissed at you when I ran the simulation
and saw that. You were damn lucky.” she returned the kiss again.
“I guess it’s better being
lucky than good.” I quipped.
She slapped my face, hard.
“That's an unacceptable answer for my fiancé to make. You’re too good to rely
on luck. This is not a joke; this is life or death for both of us. We won’t go
on a mission unless we have at least a ninety percent success rate.” She looked
at me with fire in her eyes.
“Yes, ma'am,” was all I could
think of to say as I put my hand to my cheek.
We hauled the gear out to the
Humvee and threw it into the back. I tossed her the keys. “I need to get my mind
around all that I’ve just seen. You drive today.”
I leaned back and closed my
eyes, seeing the red hearts and ghosts again and running through her scenario.
I couldn't find anything wrong with it, and found a whole bunch of things
right. I opened my eyes as we pulled into the training area, looked over and
smiled at her, “This is going to be like–”
She cut in, “–shooting fish
in a barrel.” We smiled at each other.
DI Anderson was already
there, strutting around. “Well here comes the dead meat, ready to die, you
two?”
Jens walked over and got
right in his face. “DI Anderson, we’re going to kick your ass. When we’re done
with you, you won't know what hit you. In less than two hours you and your
whole platoon will be in body bags and you won't even have touched us.”
DI almost smiled. “Pretty big
damn words for such a small lady. Put up or shut up,” he answered. If anyone
but DI Anderson had said that, I would’ve kicked their butt. No one talks to my
fiancée like that. But I could tell this was part of her plan, so I kept my
mouth shut and just smiled.
Jens pulled out a thong and
waved it around, “Okay, big boy. You win, you get these and a picture of me
wearing only them to hang on your wall. I win, I get your new Smoky Bear hat.”
The whole platoon started whooping and hollering.
“Damn, those are going to
look good on my wall. It's a deal.” DI answered.
She just smiled at him.
“Sergeant Donaldson, let's
move out,” I said. We beat feet and set up the nets and extra ghillie suits in
the trees and the water gear at the lake, and then slipped back over to the
entrance to wait.
Within ninety minutes, the
whole platoon was dead. Jens’s plan worked even better than expected because
the platoon got nervous as we started killing them. In the parking lot, DI
Anderson handed Jens his new Smoky Bear hat.
He looked over at me and
said, “Son of a bitch, Ben. That was one hell of a tactical plan you came up
with. I never expected the water attack. I’ll always be ready for that from now
on.”
“Shit, DI.” I grinned. “I
wish I was the one who came up with that plan, but I was just along for the
ride. Jens came up with the whole thing. She has some sort of computer program
that simulated the whole exercise. When she ran it with the way I would’ve
fought the platoon, I died in thirty minutes every time. She deserves all the
credit for our victory.” I looked at her with pride.
“Damn, I would like to see
that sometime. I’m going to be buying so much beer tonight for the other DI's.”
DI Anderson looked pretty glum.
“And you don't get these,”
Jens waved the thong around, “Or the picture.” Jens and I both laughed.
We headed over to the BCO to
turn in our report, and were sent right in. Brigadier General Thompson started,
“Damn, I just got off the phone with Major Lapworth. Not only did you kill the
whole platoon, it was almost a disgrace to them. DI Anderson is so pissed at
them that he not only made them run back to the base, he ran back with them.
I’ve never heard of tactics like that, and I was told that we need to thank
Sergeant Donaldson for coming up with the plan.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said. “All the
credit goes to Jens; she came up with the entire tactical plan without any help
from me. She has some sort of computer program that she used to analyze the
whole training mission. If we would have gone with my plan, the simulation had
us dying in thirty minutes.”
The Brigadier General looked
at Jens. “Jens I’ve never heard of a program like this. Please tell me more about
it.”
“Brigadier General Thompson,
I wrote the program for my doctoral thesis as a way to predict the outcome of
battles if parameters are changed. I rewrote and modified the program for
smaller and more accurate results. It’s still a work in progress. I own the
copyright for it and I’m not ready to hand it over to the Marine Corps yet.”
She gave him a look that let him know he better not argue about it; after all
her daddy was the General. “I’ve been refining it and our strategies for use
during the upcoming sniper contest. So far we have an eighty percent chance of
winning the final snipe-off, but I won't be happy until we have at least a
ninety and preferably ninety-five percent chance of winning it.”
The Brigadier General nodded.
“I see. Well, good work, Sergeant Donaldson. Keep it up. Dismissed.”
I drove us home in the Humvee
and we unloaded the gear. “Jens, I guess I don't know what to say. You have a
doctorate. With that degree, why aren't you an officer?”
“You never finished my
service record or you would have seen that,” she replied. “But I knew you would
stop within the first few pages.
“Because I didn't have the
distractions of boys in my life – since I knew you would be my husband – I
concentrated on school, shooting, and physical fitness. I knew I’d need to be
very strong in all three of these areas if I was going to be your wife. I
graduated advanced placement high school when I was sixteen. That counted for
two years of college.
“I finished my bachelor's
degree in one more year, when I was seventeen. My master’s took a year, and I
was a little over eighteen when I finished it. It pissed me off because my PhD
took two years, I had planned on one, but the computer program was harder to
write than I thought it would be.
“I was offered jobs in all
the Washington think tanks, but turned them all down and joined the National
Guard when I was nineteen. My analysis showed me that it was the only branch of
the service that would let me go to sniper school. They offered to enlist me as
a Second Lieutenant because of my education, but I knew if I did that they
would never let me go to the sniper school. They were happy to take me in as a
PFC. It was hell, and I had to be better than everyone else to even get in.
Finally, I made it, passed at the top of my class, and even talked them into
one tour of duty in Iraq.
“Dad was so pissed at me
after I joined the National Guard, he didn't even see me off to basic training.
After my first tour of duty, I heard rumors that the National Guard was going
to move me to Washington to do analysis for them, so I went to daddy and I
offered him a deal. I would enlist in the Marines for ten years if I had a
chance to be your spotter. If I couldn't convince you that I would be the best
damned spotter you’ve ever had, then I would do whatever job daddy gave me for
the ten years.
“Daddy looked over your
service record and gladly took the deal, thinking that he would finally be able
to control me. Once he accepted it I knew that he’d lost. He wanted to let me
come in as a captain, and I told him no way in hell would I ever join the Corps
if I outranked you, and asked that he make me a sergeant. He didn't understand
it, but agreed. I knew that if I ever outranked you that we would never be able
to have a relationship. I like you outranking me, and I like you being in
control.” Jens finished her long history, looked at me, and gave me one of her
huge smiles as my mouth hung open.
“Close your mouth, or
flies might get in it.” She giggled. “You’re so cute when you don't know what
to say.” She gave me a huge hug and kiss. “I'm going to the kitchen to start
dinner. While it's cooking I'll clean up. You need to do the same.” She
scampered off to her bathroom.
I wandered into my bathroom
in a daze and sat on the side of the tub. I shook my head. What the hell had I
gotten myself into? I mean, it didn't bother me that Jens was smarter than me
and that she had her PhD. I’ve always known that she’s exceptional; I just
didn't know how exceptional. All of a sudden I felt very unworthy of her love;
she had accomplished so much in her twenty-four years. I was still sitting
there ten minutes later when Jens knocked on the bathroom door.
“Are you decent? Can I
come in?”
“Come on in, it's open,” I
mumbled.
“Hey honey, don't be so glum.
I know that you’re feeling bad right now and I know why; after all, I’m a
'witch.' You don't feel like you're good enough for me and I’m here to tell you
that you're the only man in the whole world who is good enough for me. Actually,
I don't feel like I’m good enough for you.”
Is she fricken crazy?
“I’m very good at many
things, but you’re the best at what you do. There’s not another sniper in the
world that’s better than you. When I found out about you when I was twelve, I
decided that I would become the female version of you. I analyzed you to find
your strengths and weaknesses and starting on Christmas Day of my twelfth year,
I started training. I don’t know how I knew I wanted to be your wife, but I
did, so everything I did from then on was toward that goal. I made your
weaknesses my strengths so that we would be the perfect team and the perfect
couple.
“Daddy and Mom thought that I
was just going through some weird teenage thing; I never told them I had a plan
to marry you until much later. I studied some of your missions, and I knew
enough to know that you made some mistakes, but that you got lucky. I realized
I wasn’t sure exactly why the missions were so close, and that’s when I decided
to study military tactics so I could help you and so that I could keep you
safe. I worked my hardest and became one of the best tacticians in the world.
“I knew there was a chance
that you would find someone and marry before we could meet, so I balanced my
education to create an alternative life as a military tactician. I want you to
know that so you know that I can take care of myself if I need to. But I have
my heart set on you.” She paused.
“I was so upset when you were
with 'Jugs'; I thought you might marry her. But then she dumped you, and that
made me happy. I was even going to get bigger breasts for you because I knew
that you liked them, but they would bother my shooting so I didn't do that.
“I prayed every night that
God would keep you safe until I could help Him, He answered my prayers and now
we’re together. I may have missed out on a lot of the “normal” teenage events
because of my single-mindedness, but I’m so glad I did. You make me the
happiest woman in the world. I’ll love you and I’ll serve you forever, if you’ll
love me for who I am.” She started to cry.
I stood up, realizing then
why I found Jens so attractive. She was everything I was plus more; shit, she
even talked like me part of the time. I could finally see myself living a real
life, with a house and a white picket fence, two cars, a dog and two-point-five
children. The many long years of being a lonely sniper would be gone. Jens
understood me, Jens cared for me; Jens loved me.
I pulled her into my arms and
held her close. “My fiancée, please forgive me. I’ve been very foolish. Instead
of enjoying what we have, I let my insecurities mess with my head and get me
upset. Of course I love you. You’re the one and only perfect woman for me.
We're perfect for each other and only for each other.
“You make me better at
everything I do, and I make you better at almost everything that you do. We’re
the definition of a symbiosis. I can’t live without you. Thank you for all the
sacrifices that you made for us, I promise you that I’ll always honor those in
my heart and that I’ll find a way to pay you back.” I kissed away every last
tear.
About that time, the smoke
alarm went off in the kitchen. “Shit,” she said, “Dinner’s burning.” She ran
out of the bathroom into the kitchen with me close behind. “Shit, shit, shit,”
she cursed, stamping her foot in anger. Dinner was ruined, and so was the pan
that she had cooked it in.
I started laughing. “I guess
that means I need to take you to the NCO club for dinner.” That was the right
thing to say.
“Whooo hooo! My man's
taking me out for dinner. Is this our second date?”
“You bet it’s our second
date. Let me get cleaned up and changed. Besides, I think we can get DI
Anderson to buy us at least one beer.” I answered.
I finally got a shower, and when
I came into the living room dressed in my service uniform, Jens was waiting and
was in hers, too. She’d amazed me yet again.
She saw the look on my face
and shrugged. “I knew that was what you would wear.”
We made quite the couple as
we walked into the NCO club. The party was in full swing, with DI Anderson
paying for the beers. Jens walked up to the bar and produced DI Anderson's
Smoky Bear hat with her thong pulled over the top of it.
She gave him her sweetest
smile as she made her request. “Will you please hang this over the bar?”
He thought it was a great
joke, and hung it up right away, bringing cheers from everyone in the club.
DI Anderson walked up and
gave us both a big hug and a beer. “Damn, this is some fine party, even if I
have to pay for it. But I won't fall for that water trick ever again;
especially not tomorrow when we do it again. Tomorrow we'll kick your butt.”
Jens looked at him, took a
big drink of her beer, and smiled. “You wouldn't want to bet on that would
you?”
“Uhhh, maybe I’d better not.
I couldn't afford another party like this if I lost,” the DI mumbled and walked
away.
As soon as he’d disappeared
in the crowd, I reached in my pocket and pulled out five hundred dollars and
handed it to bartender. “This is to help out DI Anderson. He has a family to
support, and I don't want him hurting for money. But don't tell him that I did
this.”
Jens reached in her purse and
did the same. “Great minds think alike.” She gave me a hug and a kiss on the
cheek.
Jens walked over to the juke
box and selected a song and walked back to the bar to finish her beer. She
looked at me when the juke box finally started playing and, “Dance with your
fiancée in the pale moonlight?” holding out her hands to me.
The song she had picked was
'Desperado' by The Eagles. As we started dancing, she sang along:
“Banzai Ben, why don't you
come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you
Can hurt you somehow
Don't you marry the queen of boobies, boy
She'll beat you if she's able
You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get
Banzai Ben, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the night time from the day
You're losin' all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?
Banzai Ben, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it's too late.”
“Damn,” I said. “You have a
really nice voice. Is there anything you can't do?”
She shook her head, her eyes shining,
and then laid her head on my shoulder.
I held her against me as I
said, “Now that I’ve, 'let somebody love me,' I guess I’ll have to change my
anthem.” I kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for the dance.”
Our table was finally ready,
so I held her chair as she sat down. We looked over the menu and made our
choices and settled back, drinking a nice glass of wine and talking about the
day. DI Anderson came over to say good night and finally noticed the engagement
ring on Jens's finger.
“Damn. That's one beautiful
ring. Who’s the lucky devil that caught you?”
“It's more like I caught
him,” Jens said, pointing at me.
“Son of a bitch.” DI
Anderson’s jaw dropped. “So Banzai has finally been roped and tied! Damn. I
didn't think it would ever happen.” He continued in his loudest voice,
“Marines, I hate to interrupt your dinner, but I have an announcement of huge
proportions that I can't even believe myself. It seems that our longtime
friend, Sergeant Major Bennie Blaine – known to most of you as Banzai Ben – has
finally, after all these years, been caught by no other than Sergeant Jennifer
Donaldson. Yes, it’s official. She even has the rock on her finger to prove
it.”
Jens held her hand up high
and wiggled her fingers as DI raised his glass.
“Please join me in a toast to
the newly engaged couple.” Everyone raised their glasses and the DI Anderson
continued:
“May your life be long and
happy,
Your cares and sorrows few;
And the many friends around thee
Prove faithful, fond and true.
May your voyage through life be as happy and as free
As the dancing waves on the deep blue sea.”
The whole NCO club shouted,
“Orraaahhh!”
DI Anderson pulled up a chair
and sat down. “So, how’s this going to work. You two can't still be a team can
you?”
I replied, “We’ve talked to
the General about it, assuring him that there will be no inappropriate
behavior, and he doesn't have a problem with it.”
Jens added, “Besides, I’d
kick his butt if he tried to separate us.” She laughed.
Most everyone came over to
congratulate Jens and, of course, tease me.
Finally, Jens said, “We need
to get back to the house and come up with a new tactical plan for tomorrow.
None of the stuff we did today will work again.”
We said our goodbyes and drove
back to our house in the Humvee. “Let's change and get working on the new
tactical plan. Meet you in the extra bedroom in five minutes,” Jen said. I sat
at the computer with Jens on my lap, and we worked a couple of hours, coming up
with a new plan that looked good.
Then, as if I hadn’t yet had
enough surprises that day, she selected the menu and started bringing up all my
missions in Iraq and other places.
I stared at her. “You do
know, most of these missions are classified?”
She nodded, all business.
“Yes. It was hard getting the clearance so I could get the files for these
missions – especially the ones that you did for the three-letter branches of
the government. There were several they wouldn't give me, so I hacked into
their computer systems and took them.” Her tone never changed as she revealed
this, as if it didn’t matter that she’d risked her career and, perhaps,
imprisonment.
“Let's look at a few of them.
This one in Baghdad right at the start of the war was one of the worst.” She ran
it ten times at high speed, and I died eight times. “That one had a fifteen
percent rate of success. You were very lucky. But it's not as bad as this one.”
She pulled up one of my missions in a South American country and ran it ten
times. I died every time. I shook my head and counted my blessings for being so
lucky.
“There's between a five and
ten percent success rate for this mission. You and Jack just happened to catch
everything just right. I was so pissed off when I first ran this mission; not
just at you, but also at the Agency, that I wanted to kick all your butts.” She
made some changes as she spoke and ran the two missions again. “Let's see what
happens on both those missions with a change in tactics.” They were successful
nine out of ten times.
She continued, “The good news
is, if we throw out those two missions, you had a predicted success rate of
about eighty percent. But with as many missions as you’ve had, that means
you’re now statistically cheating death. That's why it’s so important for us to
be together now. If we run all our missions through the simulator and refine
the tactics, I figure it will give us another eight to ten years of missions
before things become too dangerous. At that point we’ll retire and make babies.
So, my love, do I have your attention?”
I nodded, still a little bit
dumbfounded.
She covered my hand with
hers. “I know there might be an occasional time when you have to go on a
mission without me, but don't ever go on a mission without first running it
through the simulator and refining the tactics.”
Then she switched gears,
yawning and stretching. “I don't know about you, but I’m tired and ready for
bed.”
I picked her up, carried her
into the bedroom, put her on the bed, and crawled in beside her.
She looked into my eyes.
“Goodnight, my fiancé. Thank you for another wonderful evening. I wasn't
planning on having our engagement announced in such a public manner, but I’m
happy that it was. I’m sure by now the whole base knows about it. It’ll be nice
not to have to hide it anymore.”
I played with her hair.
“Goodnight to you, my fiancée. It looks like I was worried about nothing.
Everyone accepts our engagement without a problem. And I think I’m even more
glad about it being out in the open than you are.” I replied.
We kissed several times and
drifted off to sleep holding each other, and I dreamt of red hearts fighting
ghosts all night.
1A ghillie suit, or yowie suit, is a type of camouflage
clothing designed to resemble heavy foliage. Typically, it is a net or cloth
garment covered in loose strips of cloth or twine, sometimes even made to look
like leaves and twigs.
2Sort of like a very upgraded laser tag system –
totally fictional unfortunately