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by Matthew Gilman


  Clive’s body was set upon the sleeping bag in his bunk area. Laying there he looked like he was still alive. Dallas wanted to believe that his friend was still alive, but that was not the case. Clive was gone. Kelly and Ben were already digging a spot for him on the side of the mountain. They picked something nice, overlooking a view that Clive had commented on a few times before.

  Some of the women in the camp offered to wash his body and prepare it for the funeral they would have. Dallas agreed and left the area, taking Clive’s rifle with him. Dallas removed the firing pin and put the rifle back together. Sitting there by himself, holding his friend’s rifle he started to cry. He doubted what he could accomplish, or if he could continue on without anyone else dying under his command.

  “You did nothing wrong,” River said. He was standing next to a tree looking away from Dallas.

  “What do you know?” Dallas replied. “You weren’t there.”

  “No,” River said. “No I wasn’t, but your men were and what they are saying is that it wasn’t your fault. If you didn’t pull them out when you didn’t they might be dead as well.”

  Dallas was now listening.

  “When I was in college I thought about joining the military,” River continued. “Not out of some patriotic sense of duty or wanting to blow shit up. I couldn’t figure out how to pay for college. In the end, I decided not to.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I met some guys that had come back from the wars. All of them regardless of the campaign were a little fucked up in their own way. What I realized was that the military was really good at teaching them how to kill. What they lacked was teaching how to save lives and deal with the war afterwards. Bush was in office so I knew if I joined I was going to war. I could either stay poor, or pay my debt, go into an office, and see a therapist the rest of my life.”

  “You chose being poor,” Dallas pointed out.

  “Indeed.”

  “And you still went to war,” Dallas added.

  “The difference was that it was not my choice. I can look back on my life after this and say those choices were thrown at me. I think the hardest part for a soldier is accepting that they made the choice to be put in situations they would later regret. But what the fuck do I know? Hind sight is always twenty-twenty.”

  “You really aren’t good at helping out,” Dallas replied.

  “Maybe not,” River said. “Your men think you did the right thing. It was the pilot of that jet that killed Clive. Not you. Keep that in mind.”

  The funeral was at sunset. The rays of the sun beamed over the mountain onto the view that Clive enjoyed so much. It was as if the clouds opened up just for him that evening. Stones were rest over the dirt mound and Dallas pressed the bayonet at the end of the M14 into the loose soil as the headstone. The extra set of dog tags were tied around the stock of the rifle and his favorite hat sat on top. One by one the Rangers left the site and went back to the camp.

  Upon reaching the camp, Dallas took out a map and started looking at the city. He marked sites for future attacks with a pencil and plans began that night.

  In the background Dallas could hear the crackle of a radio. He thought all of them were turned off. Walking to the newfound equipment Dallas picked up the radio with the light on and turned up the volume. A voice was talking in Chinese on the other end.

  Dallas pressed the transmission button. “Does anybody here speak English?”

  Ben and Kelly walked back into the camp and saw Dallas on the radio.

  “Yes, I speak English,” a man said. “Who is this?”

  “Who am I talking to?” Dallas replied.

  “Colonel Choi, People’s Army of China,”

  “Choi, I heard your name mentioned before. That’s good to know.”

  “Why is that, American?”

  “Because I’m talking to a dead man.” Dallas turned off the radio and watched Budd walk up to Kelly and Ben.

  “What did I miss?” Budd asked.

  “Dallas just talked to the Colonel of the Chinese forces.” Kelly said.

  “And…?” Budd continued.

  “He’s a dead man,” Ben answered.

  “Hell, I could have told you that.”

  The four men stood there for a second.

  “Who wants to take the war to them?” Dallas said.

  “You don’t have to ask,” Kelly said. “Just give the order.”

  Chapter 26

  The guard shack was slow on this day. Only two trucks had gone through and weren’t expected to come back through until the next day. The two guards, Chow and Fung, had been assigned to the post the week before. They had worked various other positions. Their least favorite was unloading the cargo containers that were coming into port. Chow had made the unfortunate mistake of saying that wasn’t his job and ended up working the docks for the first six months he was in country. After the people in charge forgot why he was working the docks he was finally moved to the guard’s post which was a great change of pace for him. Fung was the son of a lieutenant and was therefore assigned the easiest jobs available. They also happened to the be least likely to get him killed while on duty. With the one child rule affecting entire generations of Chinese citizens, people were more likely to protect their children from harm if they were able.

  The guard post was slow and the two men sat back in their chairs, listening to the birds in the trees.

  “Kind of reminds you of home,” Chow said with his eyes closed.

  “Country bumpkin,” Fung replied.

  “Sorry, I forgot you were from the city.”

  “City life is so much better than the country.”

  “I swear if you make one more comment about country people being stupid I’m going to bust your teeth.” Chow had heard comments before from Fung about his background. The young man was always acting better than Chow because of who his father was.

  “How many of your sisters did your father sell to buy his position?” Chow hit a nerve.

  “My father is an honest man and I am an only child.” Fung was out of the chair towering over Chow.

  “You think you are the result of the only time your parents had sex?” Chow asked. “And you say I’m dumb.”

  “Outside.” Fung was stepping past Chow and exiting the door.

  This was not the first time the two had a rumble outside. It usually ended up in a wrestling match with pinching and slapping.

  “Do we have to do this again?” Chow said, considering himself the victor the last few matches.

  “I am my own man,” Fung said.

  “Your dad put you here, not you.” Chow slapped the hat off Fung’s head.

  “You son of a…” Fung lunged forward and gripped Chow’s shirt. The two wrestled trying to throw each other on the ground.

  In the tree line Dallas watched the two guards fighting outside.

  “Do you believe this shit?” Budd said, seeing the same thing.

  “Fucking amateurs,” Kelly added.

  “I feel bad killing them,” Dallas said.

  “Pity really,” Budd said. “This is the most entertainment I’ve have in months.”

  In the distance the two men fell to the ground and one kneeled on top, slapping the man below.

  “Alright, enough of this already.” Dallas packed his binoculars away.

  On the ground Fung kept his arms in front of his face, blocking the slaps raining down.

  “You had enough rich boy?” Chow continued to taunt him while in power.

  “Stop,” Fung pleaded.

  Something stood out to Chow. He stopped moving and sat up.

  Fung peeked through his arms and saw Chow distracted.

  “What is it?” Fung asked.

  “The birds,” Chow looked around. “Where did the birds go?”

  That moment a man walked up behind Chow and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. Fung kept his arms in front of his face showing he wasn’t armed. He started to plea
with the men who rolled him over on his stomach and searched him. Yelling about his father, he pleaded that he didn’t want to die.

  “Hey,” an American voice said. “Keep your mouth shut. We don’t speak Chinkanese.”

  Fung didn’t know what was said, but he got the point.

  Chow and Fung were dragged away from the guard shack and taken into the woods.

  Chapter 27

  Two men sat in the guard shack up ahead. The men in the Humvee were returning from patrol and couldn’t wait to get back into the city. Chen in the backseat kept talking about a white woman he had in an apartment in the city center. Everyone in the Humvee knew she was a prostitute, but Chen was convinced he was the only one. The men kept their mouths shut, knowing there would be more patrols with Chen. As they pulled up to the gate one of the men exited the shack with a clipboard. It wasn’t Chow or Fung as it was before.

  The driver asked the new guard if he was relieving Chow and Fung. He nodded and said nothing, handing the clipboard to the driver. The driver tried to wave off the board never needing to sign it before. Did this new guy not know how the gate worked? Or did the Army send another illiterate country bumpkin to the frontlines expecting him to do paperwork? The men started to yell at the new guard for being an idiot. The guard stepped back, took the clipboard from the driver and threw it at him.

  “Bitch of a dog!” the driver yelled, stepping out of the Humvee.

  The guard put his hands up for a fist fight.

  “Oh you want to fight?” The two other men stepped out of the Humvee approaching the new guard.

  Chen looked in the guard shack to see the second man with his head down, face covered by his hat.

  “These guys are napping on the job,” Chen said to the others.

  The man in the guard shack stood up and pulled a pistol from his holster. The first shot hit Chen, then a second hit the man from the passenger seat. The driver was in shock at this time not knowing what was happening. It was then the guards threw a kick, landing the boot against the driver’s head knocking him out.

  “I didn’t know you did karate?” Dallas said, stepping out of the guard shack.

  “Tae Kwon do,” Kelly said. “My father made me do it growing up. First time I ever used it.”

  “Well, I guess it works.”

  “I think I pulled my hamstring.” Kelly said, limping away. “Doesn’t help these uniforms are too small.”

  Dallas stood guard over the Humvee while Kelly dragged the driver back to where Budd watched over the guards. The two men were still naked and tied up by a tree when Kelly walked up.

  “Wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get somebody out of a car,” Kelly said dropping the boot of the man he was dragging.

  “I woulda spit in his face,” Budd said. “Nobody likes that shit.”

  “Tie him up.” Kelly looked to see if the driver’s uniform fit better than the one he had. It was the same size. “Dallas will man the gate. You okay watching these three?”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  Kelly felt out of place driving through Seattle. He was Korean by blood, but as white as one could be. From the people looking inside the Humvee he looked just like any other Chinese soldier driving a Humvee. His mission at this point was to drop off the Humvee to a location with other vehicles they could destroy. The C4 in the trunk should be able to create a mess that would take a while to clean up. After driving several city blocks, Kelly found a parking ramp that was being used as a storage area for unused vehicles. The ramp was secure and easy to watch, unlike a parking lot. Guards were posted at the gate and Kelly pulled up with the same look the driver had as he approached. The guard tried to hand the clipboard to Kelly who waved him off. The guard looked puzzled for a second and marked something on the clipboard. Kelly was surprised the trick worked, thinking he would have to pull his pistol and book it out of the city.

  Driving the Humvee into the parking ramp, Kelly found a spot in the basement with other Humvees next to a support beam. It was at this point Kelly was to set the timer and walk out. Piece of cake, right?

  Opening the trunk Kelly took out one of the C4 packs with a timer and placed it on the support beam. After that he set the timer in the trunk then closed the lid. While walking out, Kelly passed three men walking away from the elevator. They were in officer’s uniforms. Kelly stopped and saluted while they walked by. The men thought of him as odd, bad posture and not sticking to protocol. They joked and laughed as they walked by. Kelly continued out of the ramp and walked down the street. His mission now was the escape capture. The ramp would blow in two minutes and he had to put distance between himself and the building.

  Chapter 28

  Choi was receiving the count from the last attack, with no bodies discovered of the Americans who were at the logging site. Choi tried to explain it by saying the Americans take the bodies of their dead. The theory was sound but that didn’t make up for the twenty soldiers killed on the mountain, some of them from friendly fire. The only saving grace he had was the radio transmission from the Americans.

  “You’re a dead man,” ran through Choi’s memory. He couldn’t get the tone of voice out of his head. The person on the other end was angry. Choi had hurt them, it was obvious. That was his only saving grace. If that transmission had not come through he would be down at the pier being handed a pistol with one bullet.

  The two men he was with had finished their report. Choi promised them the chance to enjoy the more pleasant parts of the city. One of the apartment complexes had been converted into a brothel for the officers coming into the city. American women, mostly blonde and tall, were set up there to work for their freedom. Many women agreed and the Chinese were not surprised. Women growing up in a capitalistic society were eager to trade what they had.

  In the parking garage an older soldier in his thirties was walking past and saluted. Choi thought it was funny, but told the others it must be from the number of officers in their group. Odd numbers were bad luck in Chinese culture so maybe he was saluting them goodbye.

  The men laughed and they stepped in a Humvee with a driver waiting for them. The vehicle pulled out of the parking spot and drove to the gate. The guards waved them through and the Humvee drove down the street. A few seconds later a rumble could be heard behind them. Choi turned around out of curiosity to see dust and concrete flying out of the parking ramp. A split second later another explosion. To his amazement, the entire structure started to implode on itself as the guards manning the gate ran to get out of the way. They disappeared in the dust cloud following them and never reappeared.

  “What do you want me to do?” the driver asked.

  “Go to the palace of heaven,” Choi ordered. If he was going to die he was going to at least have one last hurrah.

  The more Kelly walked the easier his leg moved. He did in fact pull his hamstring and now limped away from the parking ramp. He tried to keep in mind that soldiers are injured all the time. He fought to walk normal and knew if he was going to get out of here he needed a vehicle. Kelly looked around and it was at this time he noticed the streets were clear. Cars were no longer parked on the side of the road. He suspected the inoperable vehicles were being shipped across the ocean for scrap metal. Seattle was becoming New Orleans after Katrina hit. A massive recycling program was started for free scrap and the Chinese were having a ball cleaning up. Behind an alley Kelly spotted a dirt bike that might still be in use. A helmet was dangling from the handlebars.

  Kelly walked up to the bike. Years ago a friend of his had let him ride a dirt bike around the yard before taking it back and cruising down the street. Thinking back, Kelly wondered if he could get the bike started.

  The crash and rumble of the C4 detonating forced Kelly on the dirt bike, and he kicked the starter like his friend had showed him. The motor fought to come to life and eventually the motor started with a violent hum with the third kick.

  Kelly slid the helmet on his head and rode the bike down the
alley. As he reached the end of the alley the door to the back of a store opened and a man yelled at him for stealing the bike. Kelly never heard a thing. Turning onto the road, Kelly cruised down the street and drove to the entrance ramp for the highway. The checkpoint was busy allowing military personal through, but checking papers for civilians. On the dirt bike, Kelly cruised through wearing his stolen uniform and opened up the bike on the highway. Even while speeding at thirty miles per hour the bike felt too fast like he was going to die at any time. When the world has revolved around walking, being on a bike felt like being in a science fiction movie.

  Kelly took the exit where he had stolen the Humvee and rolled up to the gate. Dallas stood with a smile.

  “Mission accomplished,” Kelly said after removing the helmet.

  Budd ran up, hearing the bike.

  “Is that a dirt bike?” the excitement on Budd’s face had not been seen since they found a porn magazine at one of the logging sites.

  “Keep it,” Dallas said. “We’ll need fuel, but it helps with contacting the Canadians.”

  “Too loud for recon,” Kelly pointed out.

  “Can we get out of here?” Budd said.

  Dallas nodded.

  “Take the bike back to camp,” Dallas said. “We’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter 29

  Winter was coming and the Rangers had to thin the herd with the supplies they had. With the dirt bike, bringing back food from Canada might not be an issue. The amount would be limited, but they were more concerned about the Chinese monitoring the border. The former prisoners they housed were trained in basic military practice, but they had little experience in action. Dallas knew they had to step up their offensive in the city and thought about what could be done.

 

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