Nick Jones’s fellow soldiers were lying to him. They’d never done it before, and Nick knew that for one simple reason: because he wasn’t dead. He could rely on one thing out there in the desert in Afghanistan, and that was the word of his team- mates. Without that trust, without a team behind him, promising to protect him, Nick was alone. And a soldier alone was just waiting to catch a bullet in the brain.
On a dark roadside somewhere between Bagram City, the US Army outpost, and the distant ceiling of a billion stars, Nick stood and watched Staff Sergeant Roger Dorrich draw a map on the dusty hood of the tactical vehicle with his stubby finger. As he spoke, the older soldier shattered Nick’s trust one word at a time.
“We’re abandoning tonight’s routine quadrant patrol for a quick mission into a village just ten clicks past that hill,” Dorrich said as he drew vast, confident lines in the dust of the JLTV.
Three large boxes, a smaller box, a snaking boundary. “We’re going for the third house on the right, here, after the goat pen.”
It was around the time Dorrich took out his cigarette that Nick realized what he was hearing was deception. Just like when he was trying to bluff a good hand at poker, Dorrich put the cigarette between his lips and bit down on the tip, chewing it flat, so it was impossible to draw through.
Nick had started to feel uneasy the second Dorrich said
“Change of plans, team,” and pulled off the side of the road.
Now he was downright scared. That useless cigarette jutting from between Dorrich’s lips bobbed up and down as he lied.
“We got two entry points,” Dorrich continued. “Front and back. Two expected hostiles inside the dwelling. This is not a grab-up, ladies and gentlemen. We neutralize the targets and exit immediately. Back on patrol by 2300.”
Nick waited for his two other teammates to ask one of the dozens of questions that immediately rose in his mind. Neither did.
“Sir, who’s got eyes on the site right now?” Nick ventured.
“Nobody. It’ll be just us out there,” Dorrich said.
“But…” Nick shook his head, tried to comprehend. “Sir, how do we know…I mean, what’s the situation? Are they hot?”
“We’re going into this blind, Jones.” Dorrich narrowed his eyes at Nick, challenging. “You got a problem with that?”
“Sir. No, sir. But—”
Leave a Reply