Chapter 3: Monday 24 September 2007

Kaneohe Bay Hawaii — Brig — Monday Day Twenty-Five

It was hard to sleep last night; I'd adapted to sleeping with Jens. I couldn't get comfortable without her next to me, so I tossed and turned all night long. Worse, some drunk in the other cell snored all night long, and they weren't cute little snores like Jens's. To top it off, he smelled like ass.

At least I didn't have to wake up early for PT. I'd be taken there later in the day when the gym was empty. It sucked being locked up, but there was no way in hell that I was going to sleep in the same house with Jens again after the way she insulted me.

At least, not until she crawled here on her hands and knees and begged for my forgiveness.

Good, I smelled bacon — breakfast was coming. I was damn hungry.

"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep last night?" Jens said cheerfully, walking in with my breakfast.

"Shit. What are you doing here?" I grumped.

"Hey, jarhead. What sort of welcome is that?" Jens shot back.

"That's not jarhead. It's Sergeant Major Blaine to you, Sergeant Donaldson," I ordered.

Her face reddened. "I thought perhaps you'd cooled off last night and gotten your head out of your ass. But I can see that you're just as stupid as you were yesterday."

"You should know about stupidity. You're the queen of stupidity for pulling that fucking stunt on me yesterday. I was so embarrassed," I retorted.

"Well la-di-fucking-da! Poor Sergeant Major Bennie Blaine got his precious feelings hurt. I thought you were man enough to take a joke. Here's your fucking breakfast. I hope you choke on it, you bastard." Jens threw the breakfast tray at me.

"And don't think this is over," she snapped as she turned and walked out of the room.

All the noise brought in the MPs. They looked at the mess on the floor and snickered.

"Fuck you assholes, too." I yelled at them.

Shit, this was FUBAR. Jens still didn't understand or feel sorry about what she'd done, and now she had the audacity to be angry with me. This was all her fucking fault.

I left the mess on the floor for the MPs to pick up and rolled over to sleep until PT.

I'd just about gotten back to sleep when I heard someone else coming. I groaned. So much for my nap.

I rolled over and faced the door and opened one eye...

Shit, shit, shit. It was Evelyn Donaldson, and she looked pissed. The guards let her in the room, unlocked my cell door, and left.

I stayed on the bunk and stared at her, feeling like an animal in a trap. My guts clenched and my heart pounded. I was one nervous Marine.

"Sergeant Major Bennie Blaine, don't you dare lie there in my presence. Get your ass off that bunk, get out here, and stand at attention," she barked.

She may not have been a Marine, but she was the wife of the general, and the mother of the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I jumped up.

Mrs. Donaldson walked back and forth in front of me. "You sorry sack of shit! Just who do you think you are, treating my daughter that way? She was up crying all last night about how she offended you. She came here this morning to make up with you, and you were an asshole to her. Now she's crying again because of the way you treated her. Did you forget what I said I would do to you if you ever hurt her?"

I gulped, remembering that she said she would turn me from a rooster into a hen. I started to open my mouth.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" she snapped. "You're lucky that I think you will come to your senses and get your head out of your ass; otherwise, I'd keep my promise.

"I feel sorry for you now, because you've got her pissed off. And now you're going to have to pay the price to her for that. But you still have a price to pay to me." With that, she hauled off and punched me in the nose.

It seemed as if I was watching the punch come in slow motion. I felt the punch connect and saw stars, and I knew from experience that she'd broken my nose. Blood started running down my face and the back of my throat.

She whirled and left, warning, "You're lucky this time. Next time I'll castrate you."

The MPs came in, and they were laughing this time.

"Shut the fuck up and call the doctor. I slipped and broke my nose," I lied in a vain attempt to save my pride.

Doctor Linus came in and set my nose and stopped the bleeding. He looked at me and said, "Slipped, my ass. I can tell when someone's been punched in the nose. Who did you piss off this time?"

I stuck to my lie.

"Ben, I'm your doctor, so let me give you some advice. You've blown this whole situation way out of proportion, and you're hurting people who love you. You need to get your head out of your ass and grow up," Doctor Linus counseled. "Keep this ice pack on your face. But it looks like you're going to end up with a couple of black eyes, just like your fiancée."

Shit. Way to rub salt in the wound. I swore that if I got told one more time to get my head out of my ass, I'd ram my foot up the ass of the person who said it.

Doctor Linus left, and the MPs brought me a new bright orange jumpsuit, standard prison uniform for the brig. I hated looking like a criminal. The MPs locked me in my cell and told me they'd be back in an hour to take me to the gym.

I sank down onto the bunk and hung my head. Fuck. My life had gone to hell in a hand basket in the last day, ever since I got pissed off at Jens. Was I in the wrong?

I was still sitting that way when the MPs came in to take me to the gym.

"Damn, do you have a great set of black eyes," One of them chuckled.

I looked in the mirror. He was right. Son of a bitch, I'd forgotten to use the ice pack.

They walked me to the gym with everyone looking at me like I was a criminal. It was more embarrassing than what Jens did to me, and it was worse because most of it I did to myself.

I was so deep in self-recrimination that I didn't notice that the MPs let me walk into the gym and locked the door behind me until it was too late.

One of the MPs yelled through the door, "Good luck, Banzai. You're going to need it."

Uh oh. Suddenly, I felt very nervous.

Someone coughed, and I turned and looked. Jens stood at the other end of the gym. She wore her Gi and was leaning on a bamboo practice katana.

She saw my black eyes, and for a second a smile crept across her rigid face. "What the hell happened to you? You look like a raccoon," she taunted me.

"It's nothing. I just slipped and fell and broke my nose," I lied again.

"You're getting pretty damn good at lying. But I can still sense your feelings. It looks more like you ran into my mom's fist. At least, that's what the whole base is saying," she jibed.

"They're full of shit," I shot back.

"Oh, really? I guess my mom just accidentally broke her hand."

"I wouldn't know. Perhaps she's taken lessons in acting from her daughter. You know, acting like you care for someone and then embarrassing the hell out of them," I retorted.

"You're the bastard who acted like you loved me and then threw me out of your life. What I did to you was minor compared to what you've done to yourself since then. The whole base is laughing at the fool you're making of yourself," she pressed.

"Well, fuck all of them," I snapped.

"Isn't that so typical. A man fucks up and can't admit it.

"I'm tired of talking with you. I came in this morning to make up with you, and you acted like an asshole. I was going to apologize to your sorry ass because I'm really sorry I went too far, but now you've offended me in front of the whole base. I demand the right to defend my honor. And I'm hoping in the process to beat some sense into that hard head of yours. Defend yourself," Jens said, raising her katana.

I stared at her, unbelieving. "I won't fight you."

"Then I'm going to beat the hell out of you and sense back into you." She answered, and flew across the mat towards me.

I stood there unmoving.

She advanced. "You." Whack! "Son." Whack! "Of a bitch!" Whack! Each blow connected with my head. Then she stepped back, menacing me with the katana.

"Shit. That hurt! Quit screwing around," I barked, rubbing my head.

"Are you sorry for what you did?"

"Me, sorry? What do I have to be sorry for? This is all your fault," I replied.

"That was the wrong fucking answer, jarhead," Jens yelled, renewing the attack with the katana.

She wasn't pulling her blows, and every one raised a welt on me. Instinctively, I moved my right arm and blocked a flurry of her attacks. Yes! I'd forgotten I still had the fucking cast, and for once, it was useful.

I dropped back into a defensive stance and used my cast to block her attacks.

The katana rattled of my cast as swear words rattled off her tongue. I looked at her and smiled.

"What the fuck are you smiling about? You asshole," Jens spat, and stepped back.

"For once, I've found a good use for this fucking cast. And you're so cute when you're angry," I said.

"I'll show you angry!" She hit the cast so hard she shattered the katana. Unfazed, she threw the katana on the floor and attacked me with her hands. She punched the cast several times, and I could see that she was damaging her hands and I needed to do something about it.

I surprised her with a leg sweep that took her to the floor, and jumped on her, straddling her torso. Before she could move, I pinned her arms over her head.

"Get off of me, you bastard. I'm not done with you yet." She yelled and thrashed, trying to unseat me. I felt like I was trying to break an angry wild horse, but she couldn't unseat me and couldn't reach me. Finally, she stopped struggling but there was still fire in her eyes.

I switched hands, holding her hands down with the cast, and then took my free hand and held her hair down with it. I moved my face over hers to give her a kiss, and she tried to head-butt me, but couldn't because of her hair. I finally covered her lips with mine and, son of a bitch! She bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

It surprised the hell out of me, and I lost my grip on her. She flipped me over onto my back, straddled me, and held my arms down. I knew I could get free, but I wanted to see what she would do. I knew that I was leaving myself vulnerable to her and that she was still damn mad at me.

"Now, you bastard. I want you to tell me you're sorry," Jens glared at me.

Perhaps she had beaten some sense into me; I started thinking that maybe I'd overreacted to her stunt. I also knew that if this fight kept going, she was going to get hurt. I still loved her, and I couldn't let that happen.

I swallowed my pride and said, "I'm sorry."

She was still glaring at me, and answered in a venomous tone."You're sorry? What exactly are you sorry for?"

Shit. She wasn't making this easy. I knew I'd better come up with the right answer. The seconds it took to figure the words I needed seemed like an eternity, and her face flushed. I decided to use the shotgun approach and apologize for everything, hoping I'd hit the target.

"I'm sorry for overreacting to your stunt, even though it embarrassed me. I'm sorry that I embarrassed you in front of the whole base. I'm sorry for acting like an asshole when you came to see me this morning. But most of all, I'm sorry that I caused us to have this fight."

I had said my piece, and now my fate rested in her hands.

She looked at me and blinked a couple times. I could tell she was thinking. As the seconds ticked away, I wondered if I had said the right thing. My worries were answered when she hugged me and kissed me with all her strength and I heard applause.

Now her tongue was the weapon; she used it in a duel to show me her love. It was a damned sight better than being hit over the head with a katana.

When she stopped kissing me and I looked towards the applause, there were our friends, the general and Evelyn, with a cast on her hand. Even Dr. Linus, Matt, and Jim were there. They were all smiling and giving me thumbs up.

My loving Jens looked at me and said, "And I apologize to you, my love. I'm sorry that my stunt bothered you so much. I will be more careful next time I tease you." She blushed. "And I'm sorry for all those names I called you. I didn't mean any of them."

I rolled over with her, and it was my turn to hold her down and kiss her into submission. I think we would have spent the rest of the day on the floor.

But Matt and Jim yelled, "Hey you two. Get a room."

I pulled away, and Jens looked at me. I could sense her feeling, and we both said at the same time, "I love and live to serve you."

I jumped up and helped her to stand. We walked over to our audience. "Dr. Linus, please take a look at Jens's hands. I think she hurt them hitting my cast." I asked.

He examined her hands and told her that the wounds were just abrasions and bruises and would be sore for several days.

Suddenly, I remembered the sniper competition. I looked at Jens and asked, "Hey what happened to the competition?"

The general said, "Jens won it with you as her spotter. After she carried you back to the entrance and everyone knew there was live fire in the training area, I cancelled the snipe-off, and you two had the highest score so you won. Then it became a hunt for the Russian bastard that shot you."

Jens said with venom creeping back into her voice, "I was so pissed that I wasn't able to kill the son of a bitch for shooting you. I would have made him suffer for that."

I looked at Evelyn and said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, that you broke your hand hitting me in the nose."

Evelyn laughed. "When did I become Ma'am again to you and not Mom? It was worth it to get you two back together again. Besides, now Glen will have to take me out to eat every night."

"I wasn't sure that it was still okay to call you Mom and Dad," I answered, looking from Evelyn to the general.

"Hell, if you think every time we have a disagreement, you're going to lose our permission to call us Mom and Dad, then we need to have another disagreement right now," the general answered.

Dr. Linus interrupted. "I need to get back to the hospital. Ben, would you like to get that cast off and let me look at your new bruises?"

"That depends," I answered, and looked at Jens. "Are you done beating sense into me?"

She grinned and winked. "For right now."

We laughed and started walking hand-in-hand to the hospital. Jens looked at my face and laughed, "With those black eyes, I guess we are twins again."

Somewhere North of Khudabah, Pakistan — Day Three

My last thoughts prove right. Fifteen klicks later, there is a road block ahead. It's just one car and two men.

"Zarika, let's get ready to rumble." I reach for an AK.

"Ben, I do not understand what you mean. Why would we want to mumble to these men? Will it confuse them?" She looks at me, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

Shit. I forgot she doesn't understand American colloquialisms. And my Russian isn't always perfect.

"Sorry, my little sister. I mean that we are going to drive right through the road block and kill the guards. I want you to get in the back of the truck with your AK and some grenades and try to take care of them if I miss," I explain.

I'm trying to protect her from watching me kill two more men. She has seen too much death and suffered enough nightmares as it is without me adding to them.

Slowing the truck I pull up to the road block. At about twenty-five meters, I swing the truck hard to the right, pull up the AK, and fire twice. I rejoice to see that I still have it — two shots, two kills.

I stop close to the car and jump out, yelling, "Zarika, stay in the back and watch behind us to make sure no one is following."

I walk to the bodies take their AKs and add them to our stash in the cab of the truck. Recognizing one as the bastard guard with the scorpions, I start kicking the shit out of his body. Even kicking his dead body brings some satisfaction.

I find more supplies in the car and load them in the back of our truck. Zarika looks at me and asks, "Why did you make me get in the back of the truck? Am I not good enough to fight with you?"

"No, Zarika, you're a brave little warrior. Soon your time will come to fight with me, but I knew that I could handle this by myself, and I wanted to spare you the sight of more death," I reply.

She looks at me, incredulous. "Ben, I hate those men even more than you do. They tortured me much longer and in worse ways than they tortured you. Each one that we kill helps me feel better."

To illustrate her point, she hops out of the back of the truck and looks at the bodies. She kicks and spits on the first one, and then shocks me by squatting and peeing on the one that I've already kicked.

"That animal used to hurt me on purpose when he raped me. I would kill him again if I could," she explains.

I sit the men in the front of the car, being careful of the one she'd peed on, and hook up a detonator and block of C4 to the ignition.

Zarika surmises, "When they start the car, it makes boom?"

"That's right," I answer.

She giggles. Then alarm washes away her smile.

"Ben, I see dust in the sky behind us." She points in the direction.

"It looks like someone is coming. Let's head 'em up and move 'em out."

She looks at me like I am crazy.

I explain with a sigh, "Zarika, let's go before they show up."

We hop into the truck and speed off watching the dust cloud behind us. I know that they will see our dust cloud and follow us if I drive too far. A couple of klicks later, I take the truck into a small depression beside the road.

Grabbing the binoculars from behind the seat, I climb on top of the truck with Zarika following close behind me. I hold my breath as I watch a car and troop truck pull up to the road block. "Zarika, do you recognize either vehicle?" I ask, handing her the binoculars.

At first, she holds them up to her eyes backwards, so I stifle a laugh and show her how to use them.

"Ben, it is Hussein's truck that he uses to carry men, and men are getting out of it. And another car I've never seen," she answers.

Taking the binoculars back, I watch as fifteen men get out of the truck and three get out of the car. The ones in the car seem to be telling the men in the truck what to do.

"Tell me if you recognize any of the men by the car."

She takes the binoculars and looks, "Yes, the ones from the car are some of Hussein's top men." She keeps the binoculars and narrates what happens. "They are pulling the dead men out of the car. Hehehe! They figured out I peed on one of them. Now one man is..."

She can't finish her sentence because the car explodes in a huge whump and a cloud of dust. I take the binoculars, waiting for the cloud to clear. The blast has destroyed the second car, but the truck has survived. Men are scattered everywhere, but some are still moving.

I tell Zarika, "The blast didn't destroy the truck or kill all the men. We need to go back and finish the job. It looks like you're going to get to fight now."

We slide off the top of the truck and hop into the cab. Without being asked, Zarika checks the mags in each AK, makes sure we have spares, and also puts some more grenades on the seat between us.

I whip the truck around and floor it, wanting to get to the towelheads before they can regroup. They are still dazed as we barrel into the first group, running over two of them. Zarika is firing out of her window and I have an AK in my left arm. I'm trying to drive and shoot at the same time; doing a piss-poor job of both.

"Ben, stop trying to drive and shoot at the same time; you will kill us," Zarika orders.

She is right. I swing the truck around so she is facing the towelheads and start circling them. It feels like we're Indians attacking a circled wagon train. She's hitting them with about every third shot.

When they finally figure out what is going on and start returning fire, I grab a couple of grenades off the seat, pull the pins, and throw the grenades into the back of their truck as we pass. Then, I spin the truck back to the north and floor it, watching their truck explode in the side mirrors.

All the explosions and fires have created a huge column of smoke that's visible for miles. We need to get away from here before it attracts more attention.

"Ben. We left some of those chewchemeks¹ alive. Should we go back and kill them?" Zarika asks.

"Unless someone gets to them soon, the desert will take care of them. They were getting too close to hitting you," I answer.

She reaches over and touches my arm. "Thank you for caring for me and rescuing me from those chewchemeks. You are my hero."

I smile at her, but right at that moment, I'm not feeling much like a hero. I'm feeling sick, more than anything else.

Well this is SNAFU — Because we couldn't kill all the bastards at the checkpoint, they know we're heading north. And if they are rescued before they die, everyone would know.

We can't go south; that will take us back to Khudabah. We can't go west because the Taliban is there, and we can't go north because that's where they think we're headed. That only leaves east — China.

I had hoped to avoid China; they have a real military with all the real problems that came with it — things like tanks, helicopters and airplanes, plus the largest army in the world. I can only hope that in this frontier they don't have border patrols.

First, we need to find a route. We continue driving north for an hour and then stop to look at the maps. I put them on the hood of the truck, pull out the compass, align the maps, and then figure out where we are. Zarika comes over and studies the maps with me.

"We're right here." I point on the map to Zarika. "We can't continue going north because the chewchemeks know we're headed that way."

"Then we must go this way" she says, pointing towards China.

"That's the problem. That's China," I explain.

"My papa and brother used to travel through China all the time," she replies, giving me hope.

"Tell me more about this,"

"I don't know much, they never let me go with them; I am just a girl. But I remember they would travel by night and hide during the day," Zarika answers

"Did they take a car or truck?" I ask, hoping.

"Yes, they took Papa's truck," She says.

"Do you know how they hid?"

"Sorry, Ben; I don't know any more." She says, her gaze dropping.

I study the maps some more, and figure our route — north for about another hour, and then east. From the map it looks to be a better road. Perhaps we can make better time.

Zarika wanders away and gets into the back of the truck. She comes out a few minutes later with her cooking supplies. I guess it's time to eat. Damn I hadn't realized I was so hungry until I started smelling the food.

"Zarika, please keep watch while you're cooking. I'm going to work on the truck," I request.

Well, since there's some down time, I might as well do something productive. I check the oil level in the truck. It's just a little low. Then I take out the air cleaner and beat all the dust out of it. We sure stole a good truck.

I take the time to fill up the truck. We're still doing okay for fuel, but we'll need to liberate some, now that the trip is going to be longer.

Finally, I decide to take a really good look at everything in the back of the truck. I hop inside and start a mental inventory of our supplies. We have enough weapons, ammo and explosives to fight a small war, but then, that's what we we're doing.

I wonder what's in these four crates that I've never checked. They're damn heavy, and hard to move to the tail of the truck. I open one and look inside, and can't believe my eyes. It now makes sense to me why Hussein is still chasing use.

I reach inside the box and pull out a glittering bar of gold. Looking closer, I notice that it still has the Kuwaiti seal on it. Shit. This is part of the gold that fucking Saddam stole during his failed invasion of Kuwait.

I count the bars and suddenly realize that we're very rich. I keep two bars out — they could be useful later — close up the box, and slide it back beside the others at the front of the truck.

"Ben, come and eat."

That's music to my ears. It seems like no matter how much I eat, I'm always hungry. I jump out of the back of the truck and head over to the makeshift kitchen.

Zarika smiles as she hands me a big bowl of food. It reminds me of how Jens used to take care of me, and my heart lifts a little as I feel like someday I might see her again.

I hand a bar of gold to Zarika. She takes it, almost dropping it because it's so heavy.

"A cook as good as you are needs to be paid," I smile at her and start eating.

She turns the bar over and looks at it, finally realizing what it is, and her eyes gleam. The only thing I've ever seen that makes a woman's eyes gleam more than gold is diamonds. Even in the desert, some things are the same.

"Ben where did you get this?" she asks. "This is more gold than I've ever seen."

"There're four big boxes in the back full of more bars like this." I hold up the bar I still have.

I can see the light dawn in her eyes.

"Now I know why Hussein is still chasing us. Ben, he will never stop until he catches us," Zarika worries.

"Then I guess we have to make sure that he doesn't catch us." I finish my bowl of stew, wipe up the dregs in the bottom with our stale bread, and let out a big burp.

Zarika giggles and admonishes me, "Ben, mind your manners. You are not a chewchemek!"

I give her an evil grin and let go with a huge fart. It's not silent, but it sure is deadly.

That is the wrong thing to do. I find out that Zarika may be young, but she has already learned how to scold. I finally have to promise to never ever do that again at Zarika's table, or she won't feed me. When she is appeased, she hands me a tangerine, and then starts cleaning up and tearing down the cooking supplies, putting them in the back of the truck.

She jumps into the back, and I hear her moving things around. A few minutes later she emerges with her arms full of supplies — primarily ammo. These, she puts in the cab of the truck, then comes back to stand over me.

"Ben, do not mess up the back of the truck again. I have everything arranged the way I like."

Damn, I thought I'd done a good job of making it more functional.

"I would like to learn how to use some of the other weapons that we have," she asked.

I scan the horizon in all directions and don't see any dust clouds. Now is as good a time as any. She follows me to the back of the truck and watches as I jump up into it. I can tell she's watching to make sure that I don't make a mess. I pull an RPG rocket out of one box and grab the launcher, then jump back to the ground, and we walk a short distance away from the truck.

I take time to explain to her about being careful of whom or what is behind you when you launch the RPG. I then show her how easy the trigger and safety are to use and how to sight the RPG. After she's comfortable with all that, I show her how to slide the rocket onto the launcher and twist and lock it in place, and show her the opposite — how to take the rocket off.

She practices several times until she is proficient.

"See the big rock over there." I point.

She nods her head.

"Load the RPG and fire it at the rock," I order.

She loads the rocket on the launcher, takes aim, and fires. We watch the rocket streak towards the rock and hit it with a satisfying explosion. She jumps up, all excited.

"Ben, this is a great weapon. Can we use it all the time?"

I turn and look behind her, and she follows my gaze. The bush behind her is on fire.

"We can only use it when we're outside of the truck. Otherwise, that would happen to the truck." I admonish her. She nods in wide-eyed understanding.

"We need to keep some of these in the cab with us." She jumps into the back of the truck and comes out with three rockets, takes them and the launcher, and puts them in the cab. She crawls through into the back of the truck, and I hear her messing around with more stuff. She comes out with another weapon.

"Ben, what is this weapon, and can I learn how to use it?"

"Zarika, that is an American stinger missile. It's used to shoot down airplanes or helicopters. We don't have enough of those for you to practice firing one, but I can show you how they work."

I spend the next ten minutes showing her how the missile works and explaining to her again about the exhaust gas coming out of the back of the launch tube.

"Just to let you know — these are very old and might not work."

"We will keep one of these in the truck cab, too," she announces, and starts putting it in the cab.

Damn. I hope she leaves me enough room in the cab to drive.