I steadied myself with one good expellation of air and walked through, rifle up, platform tested and true. I found the first of them in a dingy room drinking what must have been tea. They sat sluggish and unperplexed until the rounds found their skin and bodies beneath. They didn’t have time to scream, but their falling made enough noise in this somber place. I continued on, addressing the next two that came shuffling out of a room with a cloth draped hatch.
The first had a weapon in hand, possibly an AK-47, but was unable to use it, as I presented him with a view he would have only enjoyed had I been on his side.
It was without equal, this real life first shooter game where no one would regain their life, no button to reset, no switch to pause. I was functioning as a machine would, if that machine had been programmed to kill everything in its path not resembling a US Soldier.
Pupils dilated, working heart rate a cacophony of white noise reverberating in every cell, I searched on. Gunfire erupted as I knew it eventually had to. My weapon was the only one silenced in this dungeon. The rounds impacted the ground and walls around me. I felt my body recoil as at least one of them punched my upper back. I fell with its weight, moved right, rolling tightly into a fighting ball, brought my rifle back around to bear and pressed diligently. Rounds left at an uncountable rate, the sound of clink, clink, clink, and brass littering my surroundings. The enemy gunfire ceased, and the voice of a screaming man filled the dirty smoke filled space we occupied.
My rifle was empty and I was still clearly in the fight. I transitioned from M-4 to pistol without ever consciously thinking of doing so. I was up and moving and in that time which feels like swimming in quicksand, however actually resembles light speed, I found him and killed him with a single gunshot to the frontal lobe. His suffering was over along with his sickening howls. I didn’t linger near him, I was moving again. Never be in the last place they saw you, isn’t that what Will had preached. I hastily did the math. I had killed six men, perhaps more with that barrage of fire I’d sent down the hall. As far as I could tell, there was only two rooms left. I didn’t hear a thing until I was right upon them.
Will was bound and gagged. He was set upon his knees, probably in the last few seconds by one man, the last man. His aggressor was holding a large curved blade, his face was unmasked and unshaven. He wore his hate like a ceremonial mask, so complete his eyes seared with distaste and fury. He was the one capable of English, the one from the video.
“You will do what you will do. I do not fear you. I only waited so you could see this swine die before your eyes. He means something to you?”
He sounded educated and composed. Will must have been surprised by all of this, perhaps not. I wouldn’t allow myself to glance away from this last tiny detail. I didn’t hear anything the man was saying, to focused on the moment to care. He crouched at an impossible angle. Will was a big man, this one behind him was not. There was no way to shoot him without shooting Will as well. Will would have urged me to do it had he been capable of speech. He would have told me to kill them both, happy in the knowledge his captor and torturer had died as well.
I waited, and could have waited forever. I trained the front sight just to the right of Will’s head, just brushing the outline of the other’s face. He had Will by a handful of the rag that seized Will’s mouth. How many hours had I held this position in training? Sights clear and on target, target blurred slightly, but always present. This wasn’t training, however, and in my hands for not the first time was life and death. It didn’t matter. The life I held was of a man who had trained me to do this very thing. Mind no Mind, no past no future, only what revealed itself in the moment, the outcome would be whatever it was meant to be.
He was still talking, had been the entire time I was standing here. He had made a choice, as all men do. He decided killing this man under his control more important than saving his own life. It was difficult to fight an enemy who thought little for their own safety.
He would have to move, maybe just a minute gesture, conceivably no more than a minor twitch and pull and he could slide the ominous looking blade across Will’s throat, or plunge it into his back.
His speech had halted. I watched him prepare himself to end Will’s life, and trade his own in the exact same moment. There was nothing subtle about it -- a closing of the eyes, a tilt of the head, and what began and ended in his throat was the inevitable “Allah Akbar.”
Will felt it as well, and trusting his pupil would act without thought, lunged forward with all of the strength and resolve he had left. The blade traveled upward and through, the face of hatred transcended its conscious hold folding into a smear of astonishment as his prey eluded him, leaving the armed man free to eliminate one final obstacle.
There was no need for a second or third round to be fired. The man, along with his beliefs and desires, lay dead at Will’s side.
I holstered my weapon and kneeled down to assist Will. I cut the trappings of this place from him and helped him to his feet. He asked me if there were others detained here. I thought that was just like Will, seven seconds from the end of his life and still working out a rescue strategy for others. I told him there weren’t and insisted we should probably get a move on. Will didn’t argue, and followed where I led.
The way out was slow going. Will had been bound for the duration of his time there. Simmons was up and moving our way at first sight. Together we mustered Will back to the rally point, where Simmons had set coordinates for a speedy evac out. It was amusing in that instant. I was sure Simmons hadn’t even planned for this outcome.
On the flight out of darkness I was both relieved and overcome as I looked upon the man I had learned so much from. He slept, as the medication he’d been furnished with coursed through him, serving to heal and free him from the death that was so closely pressed atop him. Simmons was asleep as well, his face serene as the mission closed. I was where I always seemed to be, somewhere between life and death, wakefulness and sleep, light and dark.
THE END
Acknowledgments
After three years, several computer malfunctions (thanks, Ben), and a couple of stops and starts, the words, “The End” finally appeared before me. It happened late one night, and the feeling of pride and joy are something I can still conjure up if I really try. I’ve tried my hand at this a few times before. OBLIGATION is my first work to reach its end.
This project begins and ends with the story of Kevin. A flawed creature, attempting to make sense of the decisions he makes, and the consequences that follow. In writing Kevin, I knew I wanted to make him strong, both physically, and mentally, however in addition to this, I wanted him to carry the burden of those choices, and the almost unimaginable pain and suffering that would manifest itself in the heart and soul of any reasonable human being, who endured, or engaged, in his lifestyle.
For the few who really know me, you know this story is a big mixed bag of my own internal noise. Much of what is written is personal experience, lessons learned in many different places, and the treasured memories of a childhood that passed far too quickly. The rest is what I hoped you found to be an entertaining story.
For those of you familiar with Autism, I’m sure Matty’s untitled affliction was not to trying a mystery. In 2004, my only child was diagnosed with Autism. As I write this, he is asleep in his bed, dreaming dreams he can never share. It is the saddest thing in this world, and I will not trouble you further with our burden. Know only that I miss him, even as he stands before me.
A special thanks to my wife’s cousin, Gina. An English teacher of boundless skill and commitment I have no doubt. Without her tireless efforts, this book would read more like a madman’s dreamscape, than the grammatically correct novel I present to you now. The cover art I owe to Danny, a teammate and partner for many years, who I both appreciate, and am proud to call friend. His technical knowledge and desire to help produced the perfect symbol to adorn my book. The Kindle version was created by John Potter who went the distanc
e in taking this book from Word to a professional layout.
A special thanks to all of those who have sworn an oath and carry a gun for their paycheck. God bless you for all that you do, and the sacrifices you make every day.
To my partners, both past and present, it is my privilege to serve by your side. Honor, Courage, Sacrifice…
To Tommy and Alex, you two are like sons to me, and I am honored to have played some small part in your lives.
To John, without you, this story couldn’t have been told. You will always be the brother I never had.
And finally to my wife, Alicia. You are the one thing that truly matters and the only thing I could not do without.
D-
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Hero
Matty
Grandfather
Peter
Golf
Coping
Goodbye
Marine
The Test
Will
Becoming Something Else
Sanity
Obligation
Keeping a Promise
Light
Returning a Favour
Something Else Comes To Call
Acknowledgements
Copyright
OBLIGATION Page 30