I'm sitting in a seedy bar on the opposite side of town from where I live, mainly so that no one recognizes me or my two friends. We are plotting the revenge of some guys who have ruined my life. Well not my whole life, just the last few weeks of it. Why are we plotting the destruction of these men and their lives? That's easy; it has to do with a woman. Of course don't all of men's problems stem from a woman? Didn't Adam get kicked out of the garden due to a woman? Well, we've been kicked out of every Eden ever since then.
This time my Eden was Barbara, Barbara Price. I met Barb during my senior year of college down in San Marcos, Texas. Oh yeah my name is Darrell Briggs; I'm 26, 5'-11" and 190 pounds. I'm as fit now as I was when I was in the Marines. I spent three years with them and would have maybe gone for more, but an incident over in the sand killed that prospect. And yeah, that was caused by a woman too. Let me get that part out of the way first before I get to our plotting.
I had been in the Corps for a little over a year when this happened. We had been getting a lot of children with bombs strapped to them approaching a bunch of military guys and gals and then blowing themselves up along with as many of us as possible. Our Colonel had warned us about watching out for children doing this, so we were now wary of any kids coming up to us, especially if we were in a bunch.
Anyway, one cloudy day, yes it gets overcast over there. It don't rain but once every blue moon, but it does get cloudy. Okay so there are about ten of us walking along this street and talking about home when I notice a kid about three or four walking toward us with his hands out. Now we see a lot of that, they mostly want candy, but then I saw this string or wire behind him moving. I look closer and I can see a wire following him, and I traced the wire back to another kid of about ten, holding something in his hand and I see a wire attached to it too. I think the older kid sees what is happening and shouts something to the first kid, and he starts running toward us. I raise my rifle and ping, right between the eyes of the big kid, and before he can fall Steve Pender, my best friend pings the little kid. Sure enough the tot has a bomb strapped to his back that would have taken all ten of us out along with maybe half the wall near us. He had probably over two pounds of C-4 strapped back there.
Well, since a kid was involved the politically-correct police were right there Johnny on the spot. So both Steve and I are brought up on charges of voluntary manslaughter for the killing of civilians. Civilians my ass, there isn't a single fucking civilian in that whole damn country, but there it is. The charge was voluntary manslaughter because the kid did actually have a bomb strapped to his back, otherwise it was murder. Our lawyer got it moved from murder to manslaughter. However, whatever it was; it was BS piled higher than my eyes.
During our court martial, the lead judge was some Army Provost Marshal Do gooder bitch by the name of Agnes Bristolmyer that is trying to railroad us into a dishonorable, with brig time until we get stateside and then off to Fort Leavenworth for a good long stretch. Our JAG lawyer is trying to get across to the judges, that have never even seen combat, what it is like on the streets over in the sandbox. He is getting nowhere; in spite of bringing up the fact that we took well almost two pounds of C-4 off the little bastard's back, and the other kid had the detonator in his hand, and they don't even flinch. Our JAG Lawyer called our commander in as a witness. He read the panel the riot act once he heard what is happening. He said that we were briefed on the new way that kids are being utilized to kill more military personnel than the snipers, or insurgents, or IEDs. After all is said and done, we each get an Article 15 and time served until the trial, demoted, and sent back to the states. The ball-busting bitch was called on the carpet from the scuttlebutt we heard while still awaiting sentencing. Hell of a lot of good that did us, getting us busted down, and an Article 15 in our records to boot for saving nearly ten people.
I had been a Corporal (E-4) and was busted down to Lance Corporal (LCpl - E-3), and Steve was a LCpl, and went back to private. Needless to say we were pissed. We saved at least ten guys plus the three we were approaching, and we get shit on because of a fucking ball bustin' bitch. Well, Steve and I decided that the way the military was going it was not the most intelligent thing in the world to continue. Yeah the retirement would have been nice, but pussy footing around the PC police was not worth the hassle.
We got sent back stateside to NAS Pensacola, Florida for the rest of our hitch. Steve had always wanted to be a cop, so he started school at the University of West Florida (UWF) working toward a criminal-justice degree. I decided I didn't want to be a laborer for the rest of my life, so I enrolled too. Currently, I had been pretty good with computers, so I worked toward a degree in computer engineering. We had about eighteen months left on our hitch now and Steve and I were both from central Texas, Steve from the Waco area and me from Pflugerville, just outside Austin. So anyway with all our military training we had enough credits to be through our sophomore year, so we continued. We wangled night shifts, and went to school during the day, just like any other student and kept a full load of classes. That is where we met up with Dave Herbert, another central Texas boy. He was from San Antonio. We became fast friends and buddies. Steve is 6'-1" and 205 and Dave is 6 even and 195. All three of us have kept up our working out and training with some martial arts classes and working out in the base gym.
We had finished out our junior year and about to start our senior year when our time was up, and we got out and went to San Marcos to finish up at Texas State. All our courses transferred so we were good for that. Dave followed us six months later when he got out too. We planned on being close friends and maybe be close like when we were in.
The comradery in the Corps or about any service really, is something that you never expected, but once you had it, it stayed with you the rest of your life. Suddenly, people who you barely knew became fast friends, someone you would stay in touch with forever. Each of you watched the other's back in the Corps or out. It's like the BFF thing only there is almost no way to break this BFF lock. It has to do with Semper Fidelis, always faithful. That oath we take is more important than anything, especially if you have combat experience with someone. Who you are, is now something greater than who you ever were before.
So now that we are kind of caught up with who we are, we can proceed with the why we are here. So we are back to plan the demise of three ass holes that are fucking up my life. Well actually it is four ass holes, but one of them is the woman who is fucking up my life.
Okay here is what has made this planning necessary. I met Barbara Price at Texas Sate during my senior year. Barbara is from Brownwood, about 140 miles north-northwest as the crow flies but closer to 175 if you drive. Barbara was a junior and a real party girl. She loved to drink and loved to partake of a little weed. Me, I tried it and all I got was a headache. I understand that the THC affects some people like that, but for Barbara, its pure party. I guess you've heard of that song, "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off" by Joe Nichols, well pot makes Barbara's clothes get flung off, and she will fuck anything with a stiff dick. I found that out when we were dating and boy what a party. But then too we were just dating, and nothing was looking permanent at the time, so it didn't bother me overly much. But now yeah, hell yeah, I mind.
So after ten or twelve dates I sat Barbara down and said that I wanted to see about us being more of a couple like maybe getting married. She was ecstatic and said of course she wanted to marry me. "But Barbara: no more wild parties, no more booze, and no more pot. That is the only way I will marry you. If you give up those three things, then we are good, if not, it's good-bye. I'll not marry a woman who gets high and fucks everyone in the room."
"Darrell I love you too, and I can give all that up for you; I promise."
Well, that is how our life together started. Fast forward about three years and I am working in the IT department of a big insurance firm in Austin, and Barbara is working at a marketing and advertising company in Austin as well. On an occasional Friday night, Barbara has come home kind of high, probably from alcohol. I mean she's not drunk-drunk, but feeling very good. She was also horny as hell and so was I.
But then last Friday night she didn't get home until about two, and she didn't drive home; she was dropped off. I heard a commotion in the drive; and since I was up anyway and about to tear into her for being so late; I looked out the window and saw a car with two women in it. Barbara about fell out of the car she was so impaired. She weaved a path to the house and staggered in. God I could smell her from ten feet away; she had either smoked pot or been around it, and she was out of it. I helped her to the bedroom and started taking her clothes off for bed when I noticed, no panties and white stuff running down her legs.
.... There is more of this story ...