Latakia

by J. F. Smith

  The captain turned more serious. “I wanted to personally thank you, Matt. You killed one of those bastards last night, and then brought the worst one to us.”

  Captain McHaffie looked across his ship. “This is a big ship, Matt. There are 1,800 in the Marine Expeditionary Unit on board this vessel, plus a complement of about another thousand in Navy crew. Since the war in Iraq started, IED’s have killed more US service people than are on this entire ship right now. And IED’s have wounded many times over the number on board. It’s not easy for me to see the men and women of the USS Iwo Jima and think about what could happen to them every time they leave this ship. I don’t like thinking about it, but I do think about it. Quite a bit. Thank you for getting that bastard out of the game he’s been playing. You and I both know it won’t stop it, but you’ve helped put a fine fucking dent in it.”

  Matt was having a hard time knowing how to respond to this. He fumbled around and said, “I mostly kind of screwed it all up, I think. If it weren’t for Mope, I mean, Travis, and the other SEALs, none of this would have…”

  “Bullshit!” said Captain McHaffie. He smiled a genuine smile and his gray eyes danced. “With all due respect, Matt Goodend, that is twenty-four karat gold-plated bullshit, and I get plenty enough of that each and every day already.”

  Matt had to laugh and the Captain did, too. “What you did took a lot of courage, Matt. In fact, I was going to invite you to dinner with me, my XO and a few other officers tonight. But, I was told in no uncertain terms by the SEALs to back off, that your ass was theirs the rest of the day until you left! And I know when I’ve been outranked, Matt. Believe me when I say it’s no small feat to earn the respect of the Navy SEALs. Think about that. So instead, I’ll just say thanks. From me, personally, thank you for making me rest a little easier at night. Matthew Goodend, you are welcome on board my ship any time!”

  Chapter 22 – Slut

  Matt twisted and fought frantically to get free, but the arms that had grabbed him from behind were way too strong to break free from. He thought about biting, but that seemed like maybe going too far. So instead he thrashed as hard as he could. He really didn’t hold back, but it was still useless against the iron-clad hold he was in.

  Matt snarled, “You son of a bitch! You’re going to regret whatever it is you think you’re about to do! I swear to God!” He could see Mope off to the side, in his usual crouch, unmoved by Matt’s plight and letting it happen.

  Petey’s voice huffed through the effort of keeping Matt in his hold while moving him forward, “Christ, Cornhole! You’re harder to hold onto than a greased up Japanese prostitute!”

  In a move that they were obviously trained for and had practiced quite a bit, Baya grabbed Matt from the front in a tight bear hug long enough for Petey to let go. This way, they could force him down into the folding chair they had and Desantos resumed the hold on Matt from behind.

  Matt was grinning, but still not willing to give up so easily. He fought against Desantos, but was now firmly held down in the chair in their staging area of the hangar deck. Several of the crew were pausing to see whatever the SEALs were about to do to Matt.

  As soon as Matt had finished talking to the captain of the ship, he made his way down to the hangar as Randall had suggested. The staging area they had used there over the last few days was empty except for the chair and he didn’t see the team anywhere. But then he was suddenly ambushed from behind. Whatever it was they had in mind, Matt was sure he wasn’t going to like it.

  He decided to try and turn the team against itself. He yelled at Mope, “Mope, dammit, you can act like you’re not a part of this, but if you don’t help me, so help me God, I’ll hold you responsible for whatever these guys are about to do!”

  Mope swaggered over to Matt slowly and said, “Well, if I’m going to be held responsible, I might as well go ahead and help them.”

  Matt redoubled his fighting in the chair and shouted, “Shit! That’s not how you’re supposed to respond to that! You asshole!” Petey, Baya and Desantos all laughed at Matt’s efforts to get loose and to turn themselves against one another.

  Petey moved to plant himself directly in front of Matt, and the grin on his face couldn’t possibly bode anything good for him. He said, “Calm down, Tinkerbell, or it’ll turn out much worse!” He pulled out from a cargo pocket on the thigh of his pants a battery powered set of hair clippers.

  Matt realized what they were about to do. He yelled, “Uh uh! Hell no!” He started fighting back harder than ever, but still couldn’t shake free of the steel grip Desantos had him in.

  Petey looked thoughtful for a moment while Matt tried to pull free. He said, “You know what? Mope, I think you should take the honors.”

  Desantos put Matt in a headlock so Matt could no longer move his head. Mope took the clippers from Petey and turned them on.

  Matt said, “You’ll regret this, Mope!”

  Even though Matt had been fighting them, he knew it was inevitable. But just because it was inevitable didn’t mean he couldn’t make them work for it some. Mope stepped forward with a broad smile on his face and used the clippers to shave one big clear swath across Matt’s exposed head. If getting his head shaved was the cost of seeing a smile like this on Mope’s face, it was well worth it. Once the first cut had been made, Matt stopped fighting entirely. He said, pretending to sulk, “You guys are such douchebags.”

  Petey, Baya, and Desantos all took turns shaving Matt’s head, leaving probably only an eighth of an inch behind, just like a new recruit. To make it all the more humiliating, they took pictures of the entire ordeal.

  Matt told Petey as he was trimming off the last bits of Matt’s hair, “Colorado, if you want a lock of my hair for under your pillow while you sleep, you could just fucking ask for it!”

  When done, they released Matt, who just shook his head at them and felt his head where he used to have hair. Matt had never in his life had a haircut this short. He felt naked and exposed and bald.

  The SEAL team all stood in front of Matt, finished laughing at him and letting Matt laugh at himself some, too.

  Baya said, “We took a vote this morning, Matt. And with the haircut formality out of the way, you are now an honorary member of this SEAL team. Congratulations, uh… Cornhole.”

  Matt suddenly stopped laughing and treating this like it was all a joke. It was all in good fun, but at its heart was something much more. It was their way of celebrating the results of the night before, and it was their way of letting Matt know that he had earned their faith and trust, just as they had so easily earned his. His mind once again turned to Mope and how he had guided Matt to this point. To make him see honor and courage and trust and faith as far more important than he had ever understood.

  Matt nodded and said, “Thanks. You guys are… are… great. And I just want to say… and I mean this from the bottom of my heart… you’d all better sleep with one damn eye open after this.” He ran his hand over his head to emphasize what he meant, which got the team all laughing again.

  They all came up to Matt, each one rubbing on his freshly shaved head.

  Baya said, “Yeah, we’re not done, though,” which made Matt groan.

  “But this next bit is just for you,” said Mope.

  They took Matt over in front of one of the helicopters in the hangar for some photos.

  They had one of the Marines nearby in the hangar deck take a few pictures of Matt with the team in front of the helicopter. Matt liked this very much. Everything they were doing made him feel much better after what he had been through.

  Petey said, “Okay, it’s gonna be a stretch, but we’re gonna let you pretend you’re a man for a few pics. Take the shirt off.”

  Matt looked at him like he was crazy.

  “Take the goddamn t-shirt off, Cornhole, or I’ll take it off you!”

  While Matt was taking his t-shirt off so he was wearing only his cammies and boots, Mope told Desantos, “Hey, Desantos, grab those bandolier
s out of that bag and hand me my M4 in that bag there.”

  Desantos grabbed a few runs of machine gun ammo and Mope’s rifle out of the bag. They crossed the bandoliers across Matt’s bare chest, put Mope’s rifle in his hands and posed him for a few ridiculously macho shots in front of the helo. Baya took several shots with Matt looking ready to take on the Taliban single-handedly.

  Petey shook his head and said to Matt, “Don’t get your hopes up. You still look like a fruit. Maybe we should try the M203 instead.”

  While Desantos was looking for the grenade launcher, and Petey and Baya were laughing and reviewing the pictures they had already taken on the camera, Matt glanced down at Mope’s rifle and noticed something. On the stock of the rifle were scratches. But not scratches from heavy use and abuse. These were orderly and intentionally placed, in groups of five. It took Matt a second before he realized what he was looking at. He swallowed kind of hard – there were twenty-seven scratches on it. Twenty-seven.

  Matt gave Mope a stunned look. Mope saw what he was looking at and saw the look on Matt’s face, but all he could offer back to Matt was a gentle, apologetic expression. Desantos came up to Matt and said, “Here, try this grenade launcher.” He had Matt swap out the M4 rifle for the grenade launcher instead.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t know what Mope, or any of them, sometimes had to do in the line of duty. He had even seen Mope do it in front of his face. It just came as a shock to Matt to see it quantified this way. Twenty-seven. Matt didn’t want to spoil the good time, and he put it out of his mind before any of the other guys saw what was going on. Instead, he tried to figure out how to best hold the grenade launcher for a few photos with it, and prayed it wasn’t loaded.

  After a few photos with the grenade launcher, Matt decided that, if he was going to be bare-chested, then fair was fair. He made them all take their shirts off for a few photos.

  Matt watched as they shucked their shirts off. He had a hard time believing they were letting him do this to them. Petey stood there, his lean body, and abs so sharp you cut grate cheese on them. Baya, thin and lithe, his caramel colored skin corded with muscles. Desantos, stocky and thick, like his wide face and white smile was sitting on top of set concrete covered in soft leather. And then there was Mope, his body as strong and finely tuned as a racehorse, a fine layer of gunpowder hair covering his chest and stomach.

  Petey sneered, “I guess you undressing us with your eyes wasn’t good enough anymore, huh?”

  Matt flipped him off and said, “Petey, when I undress you with my eyes, I get blinded by that fluorescent orange crab-trap you call your bush and immediately dress you again. And where the hell does anyone get hair that color anyway? What exactly did your mom screw to have you, anyway? Carrots? Or pumpkins? Maybe a traffic cone? Is your dad a traffic cone, Petey?”

  Baya handed the camera to a maintenance crewman and cackled, “Heh! Fluorescent orange crab-trap!”

  Petey shot him a dirty look, “Shut it, camel jockey!”

  Once they had taken a few photos like that, Matt decided to go ahead and push just a little bit farther. He grabbed the camera from the maintenance crewman and told the team, “Now grab your dicks through your cammies for me!”

  They groaned and Matt commanded, “Do it! Petey, I’ll give you a few extra seconds to find that puny thing of yours.” They all obliged Matt and let him take a photo of them with their hands in their crotches grabbing their dicks.

  Petey said, “Hey Desantos, this is practically beating off for you! The Pope’s gonna come kick you in the nuts for this!!”

  They wound down with taking the photos just as Randall showed up to give Matt details on his ride home later that evening. Matt wanted to get home, but he didn’t want to leave the team, either. It was going to be harder than he thought for all of this to end now that the hard part was over.

  Mope, Petey, Baya and Desantos needed to get back to the ready room to finish packing their gear up and told Matt to come along. Matt said he’d be there in a few minutes, but that there was something he needed to go do first.

  As they walked out, Petey grabbed Matt’s arm and slowed him down for a second. Petey had been in a very good mood all day, but Matt saw a very serious look on his face now.

  “You’re going to call him, aren’t you?” asked Petey.

  “Yeah,” said Matt, nodding. “Now that I know exactly when I’ll get home, I need to let Brian know. Well, Brian, Bret and Jim.”

  Petey looked like he had just swallowed a shot of cheap tequila, and like he had something else he wanted to say, but was struggling with whether or not to say it.

  He finally couldn’t stand it. Petey pushed Matt up against the wall, pinning him there with his forearm across Matt’s chest, his breath coming in huffs like a bull about to charge. He said to Matt, “You know what, Matt? You’re a slut!”

  Matt said, “I am not a slut! I’ve never…”

  “You’re a fucking slut! But not like with sex. It’s worse than that. It doesn’t take anything to see what’s going on here. You’ve given this guy all of you, and you’ve gotten nothing back. You gave your heart away. You gave it away to some asshole that doesn’t even deserve it! And for nothing. You’re giving it away to some chump that hasn’t earned jack shit from you.”

  If it had been anybody else saying this, Matt would have gotten seriously pissed and told them to fuck off. But this was Petey. And he really cared. Matt remembered Mope saying that once Petey was on your side, he was really on your side.

  Petey let go of Matt. “C’mon, man,” he said, “You’re a good guy. You deserve more than what you’re getting from this guy. I’m no damn expert on solid relationships, and maybe I’m just a manwhore who just wants to get laid by any bitch that comes along with a tight enough pussy. But, Cornhole, I think you’re giving it up for nothing here.”

  Matt knew if he wasn’t careful, Petey was going to turn into one of the best friends he could ever have. Hell, he was probably already past that point. But Petey just didn’t understand Brian and what Matt had in him.

  Matt ran his hand across his almost-bald head and tried to figure out what to say. He put his hand on Petey’s shoulder and said, “Petey, despite you being the most offensive person I’ve ever met, you’re going to settle down one day with some really lucky woman, and you’re going to drive her bat-shit insane. And… make her very happy.”

  Chapter 23 – A Million Miles Away

  After having helped the team get their duffel bags and equipment loaded on the Chinook helicopter on the flight deck, Matt stood with them in the evening sun to say goodbye. They couldn’t tell Matt where they were going, but they did assure him it was an easy mission, and then they’d be back in the US for a round of survival training with the rest of their platoon. Matt didn’t like not knowing, but he knew it wasn’t their decision. It just made him feel like a mother hen and worry about them.

  The large rotors in the front and back of the helo spun idly, waiting for them to finish their goodbyes.

  Matt had spent all afternoon with them, and now that he was down to his last few moments with the team, he didn’t want to let go. These men had become like close family in an incredibly short period of time and he didn’t want to say goodbye.

  He stood looking at the four of them, in their battle dress uniforms, and threw caution to the wind.

  Matt grabbed Petey and hugged him hard. To his surprise, Petey let him do it, and even put one arm around Matt, half-hugging him back. But the words out of his mouth were, “Awww, Jesus! You and your fucking asswipe Hallmark moments! Will you knock it off?” He pushed Matt away and messed with his shaved head one last time.

  Baya and Desantos both came up to Matt for their turn. Baya said, “We’ll get you your photos soon, Matt. It’s going to suck only having Petey to play video games against.”

  Baya looked thoughtful for a minute and added, “It’s going to feel different, not having you around.” Matt nodded in complete agreement with that.
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  Desantos said, “Yeah, it is.” He paused a minute, then added, “I’m glad I got to know you, Matt. You’ve made me think a lot about things. No matter what any religion says, you’re a good guy and I’m glad to have you as a friend. The fact that you’re gay… it completely doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t matter compared to the things that do. We’ll be in touch, man.”

  He studied Matt a moment more. They weren’t making it easy on Matt to let go of them.

  Desantos nodded at Matt and added, “I’d be willing to put my life in your hands, Matt, and I don’t think I’d regret it one bit.”

  And to Matt’s surprise, Desantos came up to him and gave him a rough bear hug, followed by a rub on his head. Baya came over, too, and followed Desantos with a hug. He rubbed Matt’s head, as was somehow becoming the accepted thing to do. Matt was starting to choke up, and he still had one person left to say goodbye to. The one it would be hardest to say goodbye to of all of them. Matt wasn’t sure he’d be able to hug Mope, though. Not without making a serious emotional idiot of himself.

  Mope stepped up and grabbed Matt roughly, holding him tightly and leaving Matt no choice in the matter. Mope started to whisper in his ear, “I… I… uh…”

  Before going any further, though, he pushed Matt away, his hands holding onto Matt’s shoulders. He was squinting, but looked directly in Matt’s eyes and finally said, “I’m really proud of you, Matt.” And he placed his hand on Matt’s head for only a moment before turning to get into the helicopter, without looking back.

  The flight ops guy nearby made Matt back up to a safe distance and he watched as the helo lifted off the deck of the Iwo Jima and into the early evening. If Matt had been able to get on the helicopter and go with them, he probably would have.

  ~~~~~

  An hour later, Matt was seated in the helicopter that was going to take him to a nearby aircraft carrier. From there, he was on a Navy plane to a US base in Turkey, where someone from the embassy was going to meet him with his replacement passport and tickets for his commercial airline flight back home. Home. Once and for all.