“Wagner?”
I opened my eyes.
“Hey, Action Jackson,” I said, “What are you doing here?”
“Wagner, reveille reveille let’s go,” said Gunny. Jackson vanished. Gunny peeked his head into my
tent. “Eight minutes there, sleeping beauty. That’s more than generous. I need you now, devil dog,
move!”
I followed him. The sky turned shades of purple.
A row of Humvees with roof-mounted 50 caliber machine guns idled in front of the command post.
Billy Joe stood beside one of them at parade rest. My stomach sank. She was standing at parade rest
beside the taxicab in Kinville that night. It was monsoon season.
“Wagner!” said Gunny, “Get to your vehicle, sergeant. Let’s go!” He climbed into the passenger’s
seat of Billy Joe’s Humvee. I walked over to mine. Corporal Fahrad was driving. He had a properly
fitting helmet, sunglasses and a shotgun beside him.
“Where’d you get all that?” I said.
“Gunny gave it to me,” said corporal Fahrad.
“Move out!” said Gunny. Vehicles roared to life. We sped through the gates and into the streets of
Mogadishu. I put my earpiece on.
Gunny led us down side streets and alleyways, keeping to the outskirts of the city. The dirt roads
kept us away from the danger of the Bermuda Triangle and the warring clans. We traveled off-road
most of the way to the airport. I looked at the city through our dust trail. The sun rose. Two C-130
aircraft banked over the Indian Ocean. A helicopter prepared to land up ahead. A group UN
peacekeepers opened the gates.
****
“Gene, what did you tell N.I.S.?” said Gunny.
We walked along a column of Trucks and Humvees idling on the flight deck of the Mogadishu
airport. The islamic call to prayer echoed over the city.
“Gunny, I would never betray you,” I said, “You know that.”
“That’s not an answer, devil dog,” said Gunny.
“I told them I had nothing to say.”
“Gene, do not fuck with me!” said Gunny in a whisper, “You know the truth, damnit. I swear I will
kill every last one of-”
“Aten-tion,” I said. Gunny and I stopped. We saluted Colonel Reap.
“Freddy, walk with me for a moment,” said the colonel. He led Gunny away by the shoulder. The
helocopter idled on the tarmak behind them. Billy Joe and Fahrad walked towards me.
“What’s going on?” said Fahrad.
“It doesn’t concern us,” I said. I looked into Billy Joe’s eyes. They questioned me. “We better just
focus on making it back to the compound, devil dogs.”
“Gene,” said Billy Joe, “he’s acting strange.”
“Just focus,” I said, “we’ve gotta keep-”
“I can’t.”
“You’re gonna have to,” I said.
“I can’t do this anymore!” said Billy Joe. I looked towards Gunny and the colonel.
“I’ll ride with you,” said Fahrad, “It’ll be better if Gunny has a translator in the vehicle anyway,”
“Thank you, Fahrad” I said.
“Mohammed,” said corporal Fahrad. Billy Joe and I looked at him.
“Thank you, Mohammed,” I said.
“Alright, ladies, let’s do this!” said Gunny. The colonel’s helocopter took off. “All bullshit aside,
hard-chargers, we now have only one mission in this life - to get everyone safely back to the depot.”
“Ooh-rah,” said Billy Joe.
“Let’s move out,” said Gunny.
Gunny marched to Billy Joe’s Vehicle then climbed into the passenger’s seat. I adjusted my goggles. Fahrad checked the safetey on his weapon. I patted him on the helmet. We walked towards the convoy.
“Be careful,” I said near Billy Joe’s ear.
We passed behind her Humvee. I grabbed her hand. She looked back. Her hand slipped through my fingertips. Billy Joe climbed into the driver’s seat of the
Hummer. I slapped the body of her vehicle twice then walked over to mine. Lcpl. Bermúdez sat
behind the wheel. Pfc. Thompson stood in the Gun turret.
“Stay on Gunny,” I said.
The column of trucks pulled out of the airport, heading into the city. It was nearly noon. Groups of
people gathered in front ruined buildings, chewing khat. Khat contains an alkaloid called cathinone,
an amphetamine-like stimulant that causes excitement, loss of appetite and euphoria - the perfect
high for a starving nation.
“We’re gonna have a whole city-full of gunnies on our hands,” said Lcpl. Bermúdez.
We rounded a corner. People’s cheeks bulged, exaggerated by the wads of khat leaves. Almost
everyone on the street had glazed over eyes. Bermúdez stepped on the gas.
“I doubt anyone sleeps in this country anymore,” I said. I watched the zombies blur by
outside,“Who would want to anyway?”
“I do,” said Bermúdez.
We passed a Roman Triumphal Arch with latin engravings. It must have been such a beautiful city
once. The road narrowed, funneling into a smaller street. Buildings walled each side of the convoy.
“Why are people so self-destructive?” I said.
“Human nature, Baby,” said Bermúdez.
We slowed. A crowd formed, growing all around us. A brick hit the body of our vehicle.
“Son of a bitch!” said Thompson. Urine dripped from his helmet and cammies. It poured into the
vehicle. “They’re dumping piss on us from the roof of the buildings!”
“We’re getting out of here!” said Gunny’s voice in my earpiece, “Make a hole!”
“Shit, follow them!” I said. Gunny’s vehicle lurched forward. They hit a woman then drove up onto
the sidewalk. The crowd roared. The Humvee ploughed its way to the intersection then peeled-out
up the next street. We followed.
We hit a pedestrian at the corner then fishtailed. Bermúdez corrected. We turned onto the same road
as Gunny. We raced up an adjacent street two blocks over, pushing to get in front of the convoy.
Glimpses of the trucks flashed between the intersections. The crowd on the street had doubled in
size around them. Shots rang out.
“Gunny!” I said. There was a bright light.
****
No comments:
Post a Comment