Chapter 8: 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.