Page 28 of Semper Fi


  “Next: there’s been an increase in Taliban radio chatter in the Now Zad area that has all the brass very unhappy, and that makes me very unhappy, which will make you very, very careful. They’re concerned that word of the op has leaked out, but it’s just a hunch at the moment. Hunter, I want you to go through the radio transcripts and see if you can find anything that they’ve missed. Do not go through your terps. Clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I hated going through transcripts. They were usually translated by semi-literate idiots. It was bound to be a waste of my time if the spooks had already reviewed them. But it was an order, not a request. Didn’t look like I’d get much sleep tonight either. Whatever, I was used to that.

  Grant pulled out a map of the area and penciled in the position of known local Taliban that we needed to be aware of, then started going into detail about the Afghan elder we wanted to get on our side and the village where he lived.

  “Erik, you’ll be in charge of BGAN satcomms.”

  Grant nodded his head at a Lieutenant sitting next to me. I thought his name was Jankowski but I wasn’t sure. As far as I knew, he’d be the guy leading the op.

  We’d almost finished the briefing when I looked up and saw Caro escorted by a female PFC. I grinned at her before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to.

  Fuck, that was so hard to remember—it just didn’t feel right.

  Grant still hadn’t seen her.

  “If a guy sticks his head around the corner he could very easily have a gun. If you can’t see his hands, he could have something, a hand grenade, say. Pulling a trigger is easy—we need to bring him in. It’s not about that one person, it’s about the team. I’ll need you to go in first and…”

  I coughed discreetly, unwilling for him to say anymore in front of Caro—something that might compromise her safety. Grant threw her an irritated look, but Caro stood her ground.

  “I can come back,” she offered calmly.

  “No, that’s fine, Ms. Venzi,” Grant clipped out. “We’re done here.”

  Grant jerked his head at me in dismissal. I saluted and threw Caro a quick smile as I left. I had 10 minutes before the designated mealtime. I’d rather have eaten with the guys, but maybe Grant wanted me under close supervision. It was going to be hell having Caro so close and not be able to talk to her or touch her.

  I showered quickly, shook the dust out of my uniform and pulled on a clean t-shirt. That was as good as it was going to get. Another two days and we’d all stink. Now Zad didn’t have showers, just basic strip and wash facilities, and there weren’t exactly going to be washing machines to clean your clothes. After three days, you couldn’t even smell your own stench anymore.

  I was starving by the time we ate our long-delayed evening meal. It was the last fresh food we’d have for a while. You could live off of MRE’s, but that was about all. It amazed me how many different ways they could fuck up meat with gravy. The MRE gum wasn’t too bad.

  I was seated with Lieutenant Sanders, the executive officer, and four second lieutenants including Jankowski, at the opposite end of the table from Caro.

  I’d been told not to talk to her, but I also knew that if I looked at her I’d give myself away, so I spent most of the meal staring at the food, or gazing into the distance. Even that seemed to piss off Grant, but since I was following orders, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  Eventually, Caro went to leave, and we all stood up politely. I risked a quick glance at her.

  “Sleep well, gentlemen,” she said quietly.

  The others sat down again, but Caro was looking straight at me when she ran her fingers along the chain around her neck. She was telling me that she was wearing my ring. Yeah, that was a good moment.

  As soon as she left, Grant repeated his orders not to give her any information, not even whether it was hot in summer. What an asshole. He had no idea how good of a journalist Caro was if he thought that was going to stop her from getting a story. Hadn’t he read her articles? Although I liked the idea that Grant was trying to keep her out of the loop and safe.

  After that, we were dismissed.

  I spent three tedious hours going through the transcripts, learning not one single useful new fact.

  With my eyes burning, I rolled into my bedding and passed out.

  Reveille was at oh-four-hundred. I was washed, shaved and fed 30 minutes later, and we were waiting for Caro. And waiting. And waiting.

  Grant looked like he was about to stroke-out when he sent the same female PFC that I’d seen the night before to shake her awake.

  Caro emerged five minutes later, red-faced and embarrassed.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, sounding flustered. “I overslept. It won’t happen again.”

  Grant was too irritated to reply, merely nodding and getting ready for our small convoy to leave Leatherneck.

  I noticed that Caro was moving stiffly. I longed to walk over and rub her shoulders and do a bunch of other stuff that isn’t in the Marine Corps Manual.

  She pulled on her body armor, tugged her hair up into a rough ponytail, and slapped on her helmet. Damn, she looked cute.

  Grant was so pissed, he did the one thing he could to show he was mad at her—told her to sit by me. I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole damn world. And yeah, my mom really was a bitch.

  “Good morning, Ms. Venzi,” I said in my best panty-dropping voice. “I trust you slept well?”

  “Too well, thank you,” she replied politely, raising one eyebrow.

  As we sat side-by-side in the APC, I was aware of the pressure of her thigh in the next seat. I slid my backpack closer and took her hand in mine. She didn’t look at me, but her lips turned upward in a private smile. Yep, that look went straight to my dick. It was going to be a long ride.

  We headed north, the scenery the same dusty, barren landscape, bumping along a broken road, heading up into the foothills. The heat was already building and we were all sweating.

  Our road followed the side of a riverbed, and for a hundred yards in each direction, a strip of green vegetation broke the bleakness of the lunar landscape.

  Scattered in the stony fields were the typical fortified farms with high walls, built from a mixture of mud and straw so they blended into the dirt. Some were collected into loose hamlets for protection, but most had been abandoned after heavy fighting in the area. They were a complete fucking nightmare to search, and often booby-trapped after the families had been kicked out. The area seemed deserted but I could see herds of skinny goats, which meant that the owners were around, watching us. I scanned the high ground, looking for anything out of place, but there was nothing. I knew they were there, hidden. At least they weren’t firing at us.

  It took us five hours to travel the 60 miles to our next stop, thanks to roads that had the shit bombed out of them, and there were some that had been washed away in Spring floods. Our destination was the town of Now Zad.

  What a shithole.

  It had been an important market town once, but now it was torn to pieces, buildings destroyed by mortar fire, bullet holes across every wall, empty shops were open to the sky, shutters drooping. But there were still people living here, God knows why. Nowhere else to go, I guess.

  An elderly man was selling a few potatoes and eggs from a rug outside a vacant lot. He waved his hands wildly as we drove past, cursing the Infidel invaders and hoping that our balls rotted to dung and fed the crows, Allah be praised.

  Caro glanced at me.

  “What did he say?”

  I saw Grant’s head turn toward us, also waiting for the answer.

  “Nothing I’d like to repeat, ma’am,” I said, running my thumb over the back of her hand. She got the message.

  Our compound had been a police station at some point in its life, but used many times over by ISAF soldiers from both British and US forces. There was no fresh water, no electricity, and the sleep area was in the old cells, up to a dozen men per room.

  I l
istened carefully as the quarters were allocated and I was glad to hear that Caro was given a separate room.

  I was sent to talk to the squad of Marines we were relieving, all who were happy as fuck to be getting back to Leatherneck.

  But it wasn’t good news: the Taliban had been sending in reinforcements over the last week, even though the number of RPG attacks had decreased. I got a cold feeling in my gut—the bastards were waiting for us. I couldn’t help thinking that they knew why we were here.

  Not good.

  I hadn’t even had time to find out where I was sleeping when chow was called. But then Grant ordered me to go talk to a bunch of locals who were hanging around the observation post at the entrance.

  It turned out that they wanted to invite the boss to meet the town elder; they even promised to kill a goat for him. I’d bet my ass that Grant would be thrilled. It was polite to let them invite you three times and they would say ‘stay for tea’ the way we’d say ‘how are you?’ but not expect a real answer. But when they kept on inviting you, that was serious.

  I passed the message on and Grant agreed that he’d come soon, but was unwilling to commit to a date in advance. I tried to tell him that this would be considered an insult, but he didn’t care. So much for hearts and minds. I relayed his answer, then spent 45 minutes dealing with the fall-out.

  I was on his shit list but at least he didn’t give me punishment duty of doing a burn from the shit pits—no flushing toilets or refuse collection here. Setting fire to the latrine waste was seriously gross. Necessary, but gross.

  I finally got some food three hours after everyone else had turned in and the first watch were on duty.

  I wanted to make sure that Caro was okay before I headed back to the comms room to listen to the radio chatter about our arrival. What the fuck had I been given five terps for if I had to do all the grunt work? Okay, I knew the answer to that, but I was tired and pissed and really wanted to make sure Caro was safe. So I waited until I was sure no one would notice, then made my way to her side of the compound.

  I crouched down outside her room, then opened the creaky door, whispering her name as I crawled inside.

  She was sitting on a narrow air mattress, and I could just make out in the dim light that she had a huge smile on her face. My heart thumped painfully just looking at her.

  “It’s like a dream having you here,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find I’ve imagined you.”

  I pulled her into my arms and she clutched me tightly.

  “My dreams aren’t usually this good,” she sighed against my chest.

  “Mine are,” I said, a smile in my voice. “Or they used to be. When you first left, I dreamed about you all the time.”

  “What was I doing?” she asked, stroking my cheek as the memories flooded back.

  “Mostly, we were just walking on the beach.”

  “Mostly?”

  I grinned. “Sometimes we did other stuff.”

  Triple R X-rated.

  “Stuff? I’m not sure I know what you mean by ‘stuff’,” she laughed, then she rubbed the front of my pants, palming my hardening dick.

  “Caro!” I groaned loudly. “Fuck, I just came to make sure you were okay in here. I have to get back to the comms room.”

  “Right away? You can’t take a few minutes?”

  I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “I really can’t, baby,” I said, kissing her hungrily. “Grant’s waiting for me.”

  “You’re such a tease,” she snorted, slapping my ass. “You come in here, raising my expectations…”

  “That’s not the only thing that got raised,” I admitted as I adjusted my junk.

  But she just laughed at me. “Well, I’d have been happy to meet those expectations, but apparently you have to go be a warrior.”

  “Actually, I have to go be an interpreter … I could try and come back later, Caro.”

  Her smile dropped away and she held my face as she looked into my eyes.

  “Sebastian, seriously: do what you need to do. You know where I am, and I trust you to know whether or not it’s safe to take that risk. It worries me that I’m a distraction here for you. The most important thing is that you focus on your job. We’ve got the rest of our lives after that.”

  The rest of our lives.

  I kissed her again, then rested my forehead against hers.

  “I’m a lucky bastard—thank God for you, Caro.”

  “I’ll see you at breakfast, Marine,” she said, running her hand over my short hair.

  “One other thing,” I said, needing her to know that this was important, “there’s been some radio chatter and the Taliban definitely know we’re here. I don’t think they’ll do anything tonight—they’re not in position, from what I can work out, but if you hear someone yell ‘incoming’, get your body armor on, keep your head down, and stay in here away from the windows. Whatever happens, Caro, stay in here. Everyone out there knows what they’re doing: we don’t need your help. You know what I’m saying, baby?”

  She nodded then wrapped her arms around me more tightly. “I promise. I don’t want you thinking about me when you have more important things to concentrate on.”

  I had to smile at that. “There isn’t anything more important than you.”

  But I did have a job to do—and if I did it right, it would keep everyone safe. I kissed her again, then tore myself out of her arms and made my way back to the comms room.

  Jankowski was hunched over a coffee when I walked in, talking to another guy who had his back to me.

  The Lieutenant frowned when he saw me. “Where’ve you been, Hunter? You know we can’t use the local terps on this.”

  “Taking a dump, sir,” I said, slouching into the empty seat and picking up the headphones.

  The other guy turned around and grinned at me. “Well, well, well, if it ain’t the Hollywood Marine!”

  I turned and stared. “Fuck me! Sergeant Chivers! How you doin’, man?”

  Mark Chivers was a guy I’d met on my first tour in Iraq. We’d hung out a bit before I’d gotten picked for interpreting work. He’d gone to boot camp at Parris Island, NC, and called everyone who’d trained in Cali a ‘Hollywood Marine’. We called them ‘Swamp Doggies’.

  He grinned at me. “Lookin’ good, Seb. Who’d y’all fuck off to get sent to this shithole?”

  “Much as I’m enjoying this touching reunion,” grunted Jankowski, “I’d really like to know what the fuck the enemy is saying about us, or is that too much to ask, Hunter?”

  “On it, sir,” I said, as Chiv winked at me and turned back to the radio operations.

  I spent the next four hours listening to comms traffic. The Taliban definitely knew we were here, but so far it sounded like only a few of them were on the ground—more were being summoned. It was clear that someone knew something; what that was remained unclear. But the coincidence of them sending reinforcements at the exact time of this new mission, well, I’d have to be a fucking moron not to make the connection.

  Eventually, as the comms chatter died down, Jankowski let me go off duty. My head was pounding from being immersed in heavily-accented Pashto and Dari for the first time in three years. The intense concentration left me feeling drained. I needed to sleep; but first I was going to check on Caro.

  Her door opened quietly, and I watched for half a minute as the slow, even rise of her chest showed that she was asleep. I could only see a dim silhouette, but being near her, that was enough. All thoughts of heading to my own cot died. Instead, I curled up awkwardly at the foot of her air mattress and was asleep in seconds.

  I wasn’t sure how long I slept—not long enough—when Caro’s alarm woke us before dawn. The right side of my body ached from where I’d been lying on the concrete floor. I stretched out cautiously.

  “Sebastian!” she gasped, obviously surprised to see me. “What are you doing?”

  “Hey, baby.”
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  “How long have you been there? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “Couple of hours,” I yawned. “I didn’t want to wake you—you looked so peaceful.”

  She crawled across the narrow mattress and wrapped her arms around my neck, burrowing herself against me.

  “You didn’t even take your boots off,” she murmured into my neck, her lips tickling my skin.

  I laughed quietly and kissed her hair. “Didn’t see much point.” I climbed to my feet reluctantly. “Gotta go, baby.”

  “Already?” she said, disappointment shading her voice.

  “Yeah, need to get a wash and shave before dawn patrol.”

  “You’re lucky,” she said with a wry smile. “I’m relying on baby-wipes while I’m here. You’ll get to know me in a whole new way, Sebastian.”

  I winked at her. “Looking forward to it, baby. See ya later.”

  The sun was just beginning to appear behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the compound. I took a turn in the shitter, then lined up at the outside water butts to take a cold shave.

  After I’d stowed my shaving kit, I booked it back to the comms room.

  A different radio operator was in Mark’s seat, but Jankowski was there again. I didn’t have time to do more than salute.

  “Hunter, you’ll be out on foot patrol this morning. Grant wants some hearts and minds work, and he’s hoping that you’ll pick up on any vibes from the locals. Go get some chow before the briefing in 20 minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I decided that my two Shiite terps should stay at the compound today. I didn’t want any trouble with the locals.

  They didn’t seem to care when I gave them the news—it would be an easy day for them where they could sit on their asses, drink sweet tea, and still get paid by Uncle Sam.

  I left them as they started their morning prayers, then walked over to the line for breakfast. I could see a bunch of bootnecks flirting with Caro. She was laughing at them, a huge smile on her face as she snapped some photographs. I couldn’t help my hands balling into fists, and I had to concentrate really hard not to say or do something that was going to piss her off. But it really went against the grain to see her surrounded by horny guys and not do anything. This relationship stuff sucked balls.