FIGHTING THE MOB
Max M. Power
Published by: Max M. Power at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Max M. Power
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Writing With Power
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* * * *
For Veronica and Gabrielle.
Thank you for believing I could become a writer.
* * * *
I would like to say a special thank you to all women in the world. You have a stronger influence in the world, more than you will ever know. Even if we do not show it at times, men would be lost without the women in our lives.
I have had the good fortune to have been influenced by very strong women. From my grandmother who taught me that a lack of funds did not mean I could not live a rich and fulfilling life, to my many aunts who would slap me around, reminding me how good I had it while their own children did not.
From my mother who always rode my ass, remaining tough and strict, despite her feelings of wanting to give in, making sure I walked a path of light instead of slipping into an abyss of darkness forever, to my sisters who would pick fights with me for no other reason than they could because they are my sisters and it's their job to torment me as such. To my dying day I know one of my sisters will still make me scream in frustration and smile, that's what siblings do.
From the many teachers who put up with the headache that was me as a student, desperately trying to teach me something to the one teacher who planted the seed that grew into my path that is writing. Thank you Mrs. Williams.
From my wife who gave me the greatest gift of all, our daughter, another strong woman that will drive me crazy because that is her role as a daughter. Everything I do I do for my family, to provide a better life than I have.
From my many friends who read what I write and demand I give them more, to those that threaten I would regret it if I ever stopped writing.
To Tyra Banks, whom I have never met, but with one single general question to the world, unlocked the flood gates that allows me to write so freely.
To the many future women I will meet in my life and in one way, shape, or form will inspire me to write something.
Even the bible acknowledges women as a great army. They certainly are the backbone of my life and for that I wish to say, "THANK YOU!!!"
I would like to thank the members of my fan club. For pushing me to be a better writer than I thought I could be. For always demanding more of me and never accepting NO for answer, this book is for you. As always:
"Submitted for your approval…"
* * * *
Chapter 1
The Corps
Your life can change in an instant and you will never see it coming. The same was true with Jonathan McGregor. He was staring at a soldier. The soldier stood tall, proud. Like nothing on this earth could knock him down.
Every line on his uniform was sharp and crisp. He stood alone but when you looked into his eyes you knew he wasn't. This soldier belonged to a family; a family that cared and loved him, a family who would protect him.
Jonathan never knew what a family was. He had been on his own since he was eight. He had to learn everything on his own. Learn how to depend and trust no one but himself. In the streets that is all you have to survive.
Jonathan looked at the poster again and read the words surrounding the soldier. He read them over and over in his mind.
The Few.
The Proud.
The Marines.
"Hey! Hey you! Hey soldier boy!"
Staff Sergeant Royal sat at his desk ignoring Jonathan. He was on hold with the police department. Friday night before War Games and he was going to be late. Royal had come in to get his lucky knife he kept in his desk. That's when he found Jonathan.
Royal was wearing his green camouflage uniform. He was ready to leave just as soon as someone picked up the phone. He looked at his watch as an Officer answered the phone. Two minutes later Royal hung up and the police were on their way.
"Come on soldier boy, untie me! This wire hurts man. Let me go, I didn't do nothing!"
"You didn't do nothing," Royal asked back to him, "Boy do I look stupid to you?"
Jonathan did not answer. Royal looked him over once before walking over to Jonathan's chair. He pulled out a standard issue Marine Corps K-Bar knife. It was his lucky knife, issued to his grandfather in WWII. His grandfather passed it on to his father who passed it on to Royal.
He reached behind Jonathan and cut the telephone wire that held Jonathan to the chair.
"Try anything stupid and that ass whipping I gave you outside will be nothing." He held up the K-Bar to show he was serious."You have no idea how much trouble you're in, do ya?"
Jonathan just looked at his feet, not saying a word. This was not the first time he had stolen a car or even gone to jail. This is, however, the first time he has done it as an adult. Today was his eighteenth birthday.
"Listen boy, do you know where you're heading?"
"You can't scare me soldier boy," Jonathan responded, trying to act tough."I've been to jail before. I know what goes on. I know how to beat the system."
"Maybe before, but not now, this is way different."
"Just 'cause I'm eighteen don't make it different. Jail is jail man."
"You aint going to County boy," Royal snapped back, "you're heading to Federal prison. You just tried to boost a Government car and broke the window. That adds on destruction of government property. That's TWO strikes on the felony list."
The words hit Jonathan hard. This was not a minor misdemeanor. This was serious. Jonathan knew he was in deep shit now.
"Come on," Jonathan yelled, "let me go. I swear you'll never hear from me again."
"Sorry pal, I can't. The police are on their way here now."
"What," Jonathan shouted, shock filling his entire body.
Jonathan jumped up toward the door and fell to the floor. Royal had put one foot in front of Jonathan, tripping him. He stepped on Jonathan's back and grabbed both his arms. He pulled the arms toward him, causing a jolt of pain through Jonathan's upper body.
"Boy, if I have to break a few bones till the cops get here I will. The door is locked and I have the key. You aint going anywhere."
"Get off me you asshole!"
Royal stepped off Jonathan's back. He picked Jonathan up by his waistband and threw him into a chair. Jonathan was in shock by what had just happened and how quickly it had happened. He caught his breath and made a tackling run toward Royal.
Royal saw it coming and stepped out of the way. Jonathan ran right into the front of a desk. He hit the desk so hard it knocked the wind out of him. Royal pulled his K-Bar out and hit Jonathan in the back of his head with the butt of the knife. Royal then jammed the blade of the K-Bar into the desk next to Jonathan's right ear.
"Listen you little punk, don't fuck with me or I'll make you sorry."
"Yea, why don't you fight me face to face instead of jumping on my back like a girl?"
"Alright," Royal got off of Jonathan's back and stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off and said, "Come on tough guy. Let's see what ya got."
Jonathan turned around and faced Royal. He put his fist up and started swinging. For Royal, he thought it was like fighting a baby. After Jonathan missed for the sixth time Royal hit Jonathan hard, knocking Jonathan flat on his ass.
Jonathan had left himself wide open when Royal hit him square in the nose. Jonathan felt the warm blood running down his face. He touched his nose and felt a jolt of pain.
His nose was broken.
Anger and adrenaline ran through Jonathan as he jumped to his feet and rushed Royal, this time, taking Royal by surprise. Royal fell to the ground and Jonathan climbed on top of him, pinning his arms down. Jonathan started pounding away at Royal's face. Royal managed to get his legs around Jonathan's neck and pulled Jonathan off.
Jonathan kicked and connected with Royal's gut. Royal threw a punch back and hit Jonathan on the back of his inner thigh, close to his groin. They both laid flat on the floor, hurting. Neither one of them wanted to move because the pain was so bad.
Royal, however, got a second wind and mustered up enough strength to grab Jonathan by the front of his shirt. As he did, Jonathan threw his fist straight up and hit Royal with an uppercut on his chin. Royal fell back and Jonathan tried crawling away.
Royal crawled over to a desk, pulling himself up slowly. Jonathan did the same. Jonathan's face and legs were throbbing. His broken nose kept bleeding and his leg hurt from where Royal had hit him.
Royal's face hurt as well. Jonathan had broken Royal's nose as well. His lip was split open and bled a little. His left eye was half way closed with a cut over his eye. Royal ran a hand over his stomach and felt a cracked rib.
Both Royal and Jonathan were in great pain. That pain created adrenaline, which seemed to kick them both in the ass. Royal and Jonathan went after each other. Royal grabbed Jonathan by his shirt but Jonathan managed to throw his weight forward and fall on top of Royal.
Jonathan punched Royal in the rib cage, cracking another rib. Royal punched Jonathan in the face, making his nose bleed more. Each punch came slower than the last. Both men were beaten but neither one would admit to it.
They were now lying on the floor, side by side. Jonathan pulled himself on top of Royal again and punched him in the face. The pain hurt so badly from punching Royal in the face that he could not lift his fist up again. There was a knock on the door. Jonathan knew it was the police.
Jonathan made a desperate attempt to crawl away. The police, after seeing the results of the fight, shot the glass door, shattering the glass so they could step through it. They saw Royal on the floor and Jonathan crawling away.
"Marquez, you get the boy. I'll tend to this guy."
Officer Marquez walked over to Jonathan, who was still trying to crawl away, and seen that his nose was broken. Officer Marquez laughed to himself as he pulled out his handcuffs. He knelt down and cuffed Jonathan's hands behind his back. Jonathan wanted to fight back but he was too weak to resist.
"Looks like someone got their ass kicked," Marquez said.
"Looks like they both did," Officer Ramirez said as he helped Royal into a chair. Royal hurt all over as he sat down.
"Ramirez, this guy's nose is broken. He looks busted up pretty bad. Better call an ambulance."
"Yea, same thing here," Ramirez said before calling dispatch."This is five five Adam; I need an ambulance at the Marine recruiting office in Miller Plaza. Two men with broken noses. They both look pretty beat up."
Ramirez walked over to Marquez. Jonathan was sitting in a chair.
"Mind telling me what happened here kid," Ramirez asked.
Jonathan sat in silence. He leaned his head back and instantly realized what a mistake that was. The blood rushed from his nose down in his throat. That caused him to start coughing violently as he threw his body forward between his legs.
"Hey kid, sit back," Ramirez shouted at him.
Jonathan just coughed up more blood and spit it on the floor. The ambulance pulled up and the medics came inside. One medic went to Royal and the other went to Jonathan.
"Jesus! Looks like a war zone in here," one of the medics said.
"Just patch that one up so we can hall his ass to jail," Ramirez said pointing to Jonathan. "You can take the other one to the hospital."
The medic looked at Jonathan and asked him how he felt. Jonathan responded by spitting out more blood on the floor. The medic put his hands on Jonathan's ribs. Jonathan nearly jumped out of his chair as the pain shot through his body like a bolt of lighting.
"Ramirez," the medic called out, "this guy needs to go to the hospital too. He's beyond a mere patch up job. He could have internal bleeding."
"So does this guy," the other medic said.
Ramirez looked at both medics and turned his attention to the senior medic."Fred, come here a sec, let me talk to you."
The medic got up from in front of Jonathan and walked over to Ramirez. They walked to the front so no one else could hear.
"Fred," Ramirez whispered, "this guy is going to be brought up on felony charges. All I need from you is to patch him up enough so I can take him to jail. Once he gets there I will put him in the jailhouse hospital."
"What about the other guy?"
"Take him to the ER. Let them patch him up. I'm going to have Marquez go with you to be able to take his statement."
"Okay."
Fred went back to Jonathan. He took a neck brace out of his bag and put it around Jonathan's neck. He fixed it so that Jonathan could not tilt his head back anymore.
"Listen kid, this will keep you from moving your head back and choking on your own blood. There's nothing I can do about your cracked ribs. Because you are going to jail I'm not allowed to give you anything for the pain either. Do you understand?"
"Yea," Jonathan groaned."What about seeing a doc?"
"Sorry but you're going to the jailhouse hospital. The nurse there will look you over and decide if you need a doctor right away."
Fred stood up and went back to Ramirez and told him Jonathan could be taken away. Ramirez walked outside to talk with the two Officers who just pulled up. Fred walked over to Royal and started looking him over. Within fifteen minutes Jonathan was heading to jail and Royal was on his way to the ER.
* * * *
"Jonathan as your lawyer I advise you that we do not have to be here. You have nothing to say to them."
Staff Sergeant Royal and a JAG lawyer, Lieutenant Jaime Corrin, were sitting at a table when Jonathan and his court appointed lawyer walked in. They sat down and Jonathan looked at Royal's face.
Seeing how badly his face looked, Jonathan took a little pride in the fact that he had been the cause of the damage and Royal would never forget it.
"Jonathan we have a proposition for you. It'll change your life one way or another," Lieutenant Corrin said.
"Do you have anything in writing," Lance, Jonathan's lawyer butted in, "cause if you don't then we are leaving."
Lieutenant Corrin may have looked like a fragile pushover but she was far from it. She came from a long line of lawyers who loved to fight. Lieutenant Corrin was one of those fighters.
"Unless you are the ONE who committed the crime you have nothing to say."
"Excuse me, but you can't…"
"I can't what," Corrin cut him off. "Your client has committed a few felonies and will be charged if we so choose. He is looking at twenty years total with everything I am prepared to throw at him. However, the Staff Sergeant here has convinced me to put an offer on the table."
"The time for a deal is over," Lance said with a touch of venom in his tone."So unless the Judge has agreed to something I don't know about then there is nothing you can offer."
"Oh we can do a lot more than you think Mr. Lance. We are the United States Marine Corps." Lieutenant Corrin smiled to let what she just said sink in."Now, Jonathan," she stressed his name and looked over to Lance, daring him to interrupt her again, "as I said before, you are looking at twenty years in Federal prison. The Staff Sergeant here believes you have the heart of a good Marine. While the Marines no longer take in people with records the Staff Sergeant has convinced me into giving you a chance."
"Here is the deal, you can join the Marines for an eight-year term or you can go to prison. I can tell you that parole is not an option for at least ten years. You will have no freedoms whatsoever."
"Jonathan, you don't have to listen to those threats and lies. We can…"
"Dude, shut up," Jonathan said, raising his voice at Lance."Let the woman speak. This is my life not yours." Thinking of the poster he stared at in Royal's office Jonathan faced Lieutenant Corrin again, "Now what happens if I join the Marines?"
"I can see you are a smart man. Okay, if you DID join the Corps then you have to serve an eight-year term. If you attempt to run away, you will be caught and given a lot more jail time to serve. You will serve that time in a military prison as well."
"However, by being in the Marines you will still be able to keep all the freedoms that any other Marine has. You will be given a home. You will be fed and clothed. You will have money to spend and you will have the same benefits of vacation as the rest of us."
"Most importantly you will have a family who will look after you. I can tell you, in the Corps we take care of our own."
"Sounds good, but what will I do in the Marines?"
"Jonathan, you can't seriously be listening to this," Lance blurted out.
"I told you, it's my life not yours," Jonathan snapped back.
"As far as what you'll be doing," Royal said as he sat up, "that's up to you. You have to take the ASVAB, same as everyone else. I personally believe you'll be good in Reconnaissance."
"Recon," Lieutenant Corrin said with surprise, "You never said anything about Recon Staff Sergeant. Are you serious?"
"Yes Mam' I am. I looked into his record and seen that he has been on his own for the past four years. Living in the streets for four years without getting caught takes skill, knowing the land, knowing how to blend in and hide. Let's face it," Royal paused and rubbed his jaw, "the kid is good in a fight, doesn't know when to quit. That's the heart of a Marine."
Jonathan smiled to himself at the complement Royal had just given him.
"Well Jonathan, that's the deal on the table. It's no good the moment you walk out that door. As you said, it's your life. Jail and no freedoms whatsoever or the Corps and some freedoms," Lieutenant Corrin said, holding her hands up like scales.
Jonathan sat there and looked at Royal. Deep down he was really sorry for what he did. Jonathan did not want to go to jail. He was just playing the hand life dealt him.
"If I choose the Marines, do I get to leave with you now?"
"We have a guard waiting outside now," Lieutenant Corrin answered.
Jonathan stood up and looked over to Lance, "Dude, you are so fired." Jonathan looked back to Royal and gave him a partial salute since his wrists were chained to his hips.
"I don't know if it means anything Sergeant, but I am sorry for what I did to you. I hope you can forgive me."
Royal stood up and looked Jonathan in the eyes."Son, one thing the Marine Corps has taught me is that it takes real guts to do all sorts of things, especially to apologize. Your actions at my office and just now show me that you have real guts. I'm sorry for my behavior as well."
"Well Lance," Lieutenant Corrin said mockingly, "looks like you have no more business here. Jonathan let me be the first to welcome you to the Marine Corps."
"Thank you Mam'," Jonathan said."So where do we start?"
"We start by leaving here." Lieutenant Corrin walked around the table and knocked on the huge metal door. That was the signal that they were done. A Deputy and a Corporal walked into the room."Deputy you may remove Mr. McGregor's chains. The Corporal here will take Mr. McGregor into custody. He now belongs to the Marine Corps."
"I'm going to need an authorization to release him," the Deputy said as he grabbed Jonathan's elbow to escort him out.
"Good thing I got that right here," Lieutenant Corrin said as she reached into her briefcase and handed the Deputy a sheet of paper."Judge Malloy signed his release this morning. As you can see gentlemen, I don't like to waste time. If you would please Deputy, the chains and cuffs."
"Yes Mam'."
The Deputy took the chains and cuffs off of Jonathan and walked out of the room, very angry. The Corporal put his own handcuffs on Jonathan. Now Jonathan belonged to the Marines.
* * * *
Standing in a straight line, facing forward, eyes fixed on an invisible spot in front of him, a very white, very strong, and very loud Drill Instructor (DI) yelling in his face, Jonathan wanted to bust out laughing again over what had just occurred.
"Recruit, you better answer me! Do I look funny to you!"
'As pale as you are and as many freckles you have on your face, yea you look funny to me,' Jonathan thought to himself.
"No Drill Sergeant," Jonathan shouted his answer. So far Jonathan had learned that shouting is the only way to answer any question in basic training.
"What did you just say Recruit," the DI shouted.
"I mean, Drill Sergeant, No Drill Sergeant! This Recruit does not find you funny Drill Sergeant!"
"Then what the hell is so damn funny boy! When I say stand at attention that means no moving whatsoever! I don't care if Jennifer Lopez herself was standing in front of you naked and playing with your dick, YOU… DO… NOT… MOVE!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant! Sorry Drill Sergeant!"
"Sorry! Did you just say you were sorry! The only sorry Marine is a washed out Marine! Is that what you want to be!"
"Drill Sergeant, No Drill Sergeant!"
"Do you enjoy other people's misery!" the DI's nose was touching Jonathan's face, he was so close.
"Drill Sergeant, No Drill Sergeant!"
"Oh, so you don't think it's funny that Recruit Johnson pissed his pants! You don't think it's funny that Johnson's Johnson got him in trouble!"
That did it. Jonathan could not hold his laughter anymore. He busted out laughing but quickly stopped himself.
"I see now," the DI whispered before stepping back a few feet. Still facing Jonathan the Di shouted, "Recruit Johnson, front and center!"
Johnson, being a skinny nerdy looking kid, slowly walked over to the DI, keeping his head down. Johnson was ashamed, a grown man pissing his pants because someone yelled in his face. "Re... Re... Recruit Johnson…"
"Strip your pack!" the DI yelled, cutting Johnson off.
Johnson dropped the pack off his back and instantly felt lighter. The DI bent down and started opening the pack, dumping everything out. The DI found what he was looking for.
"Mr. McGregor, stand next to Mr. Johnson!"
Jonathan stepped forward and stood side by side next to Johnson. The DI walked over to Johnson and wrapped a rope around Johnson's waist. He tied a knot and wrapped the other end around Jonathan's waist. The DI made sure there was three feet of rope between the two Recruits before tying off Jonathan's end.
"You will learn this lesson, if nothing else: YOU NEVER LEAVE A MAN BEHIND! His pain is your pain. If this rope is cut before I untie you both, you WILL BE CRYIN' FOR YOUR MOMMA! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!" Jonathan and Johnson both shouted in unison.
"Now you got exactly fifteen minutes to get back inside and change! That rope better not come off! NOW MOVE!"
Jonathan and Johnson ran into the barracks and Johnson began to strip. They both made it back right at the fifteen-minute mark. For the rest of the day they wore the rope.
During the morning run Jonathan was getting frustrated. Living in the streets, Jonathan was use to running and being active. Johnson, on the other hand, was a bookworm that barely passed PE in high school. It was almost like carrying deadweight to Jonathan.
Jonathan did not want any extra punishment so he helped Johnson as much as possible. Everything they did had to be done together. Everywhere they went they were laughed at but Jonathan ignored it. Since they did not know exactly how long they would be tied together, Johnson decided to make good use of the time.
At first, Jonathan was hesitant to answering any questions about himself. Finally, he gave in. All day both men got to know each other better. Jonathan was starting to feel he could trust Johnson. Johnson did most of the talking. Jonathan listened and gave short answers to anything he was asked.
At the end of the day Jonathan was sure they would be cut free to shower. No such luck. Showering was the hardest thing to do. All the other Recruits laughed at Jonathan and Johnson in the locker room. As much as Jonathan wanted to hit someone, he managed to control his temper.
Sleep proved to be another challenge, however. After giving it considerable thought, Johnson came up with a solution. They both slept on the floor. The floor was hard and very cold. Johnson began to complain but Jonathan told Johnson how he use to sleep on the floor all the time in the streets.
In the morning Jonathan and Johnson got dressed slowly then lined up in formation. Everyone was standing at attention as the Drill Instructors walked around, circling, like a pack of wolves circling a herd, looking for a weak spot.
Drill Instructor Leon was in charge this morning."Recruits McGregor and Johnson, front and center!" he shouted.
Jonathan and Johnson trotted to the front of the group. It has been almost twenty-four hours since they were tied together. They had learned quickly how to run without pulling the other with the rope. DI Leon was impressed on how quickly they had learned to work together. It truly was amazing considering how different they were.
"Recruit McGregor, have you learned anything from this exercise!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes, Drill Sergeant!"
"And what have you learned Recruit?"
"Drill Sergeant, that the Corps is a team, Drill Sergeant! That every man depends on each other to make it through the day! That whatever this Recruit does, it affects everyone, not just this Recruit, Drill Sergeant!"
"And Recruit Johnson, what have you learned!"
"Drill Sergeant, never to piss my pants again, Drill Sergeant!"
"I sure in hell hope so!" Leon shouted as he approached Johnson."Let's test that theory shall we," Leon whispered into Johnson's ear. He stood nose to nose and shouted, "Recruit Johnson! Would you say the Corps is a brotherhood!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!"
"Would you lay your life down for your fellow Marines, your brothers!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!"
"Would you trust your life to any of your fellow Marines!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!"
"Glad to hear it Recruit!" Leon stayed in front of Johnson but turned his head to look at Jonathan, "What about you McGregor! Would you trust your life to this sorry bag of bones!"
"Drill Sergeant, without a doubt Drill Sergeant! This Recruit would trust Recruit Johnson with this Recruit's life, Drill Sergeant!"
"Well since you ladies trust each other so much I am making you two partners!" Leon looked back to Johnson, "What this MEANS Recruit Johnson is that you are now responsible for Recruit McGregor and he is responsible for you! Unless you are seeing the Doc, you two are not to be separated, period!"
"To see how well you trust each other, your scores will be reversed also! No matter what we do, Recruit McGregor's scores will count for Recruit Johnson! Whatever sorry weak ass score Recruit Johnson makes, it will count for Recruit McGregor! Is this understood!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant," Jonathan and Johnson shouted in unison.
"Good! Now Recruit Johnson would you like me to remove that rope," Leon asked, his nose once again touching Johnson's nose.
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!"
"And you trust me Recruit!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!"
Without looking DI Leon pulled out his K-Bar and cut the rope at Johnson's stomach. Johnson did not even have time to blink.
"Recruit Johnson, I'm not even going to look, are you still dry!"
"Drill Sergeant, Yes Drill Sergeant!"
"Good! We're going to make a man out of you yet Recruit Johnson! Now go untie your partner and fall in!"
Quickly Johnson went to Jonathan and untied the rope from around his waist. The only thing going through Jonathan's mind was that it was going to be a long twelve weeks.
* * * *
Chapter 2
Last Mission
"So when did you two first meet?"
"I'm sorry Torres," Jonathan said startled out of his daydream, "I was somewhere else. What did you say?"
"When did you two first meet," Torres asked again.
"Three and a half years ago. Johnson and I were on leave in Atlanta. We decided to go out and find some girls to party with. Joni was our waitress."
"Yea, till she poured a beer on your head," Johnson said, laughing.
"Hey, that's how I knew she liked me," Jonathan said with a huge grin on his face."You were just jealous she paid attention to me and not you."
"The hell I was," Johnson snapped back."I had all the girls that night pal!"
"Not all of them. I had my sights set on Joni and you know me, once you're in my sights you're mine."
Johnson rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He sat forward again and said, "Why don't you tell Torres why she poured that beer on you?"
"Yea, why did she pour that beer on you? This ought to be good."
Jonathan took a deep breath as he stirred the fire the three of them were sitting around. A couple of Army Sergeants walked by and gave them dirty looks.
"You know if the Army would just pull out and let us come in; the Corps will clean this place up in no time."
"Bosnia is a NATO problem not a U.S. problem," Johnson answered without thinking."Don't try and change the subject either, SPILL IT!"
"Okay, okay," Jonathan answered laughing."See Torres, lover boy here wanted to get laid. For some reason I let him talk me into hitting the bars early. Sixteen hundred hours early to be exact. We went to this bar where a lot of girls from Georgia Tech went to after class."
"Joni was there waitressing to earn extra money while she got her degree. In walks two cocky Marines in uniform and she's the only waitress for the next hour. Well, you've seen how hot Joni is, so I started hitting on her."
"I'm getting nowhere with her and fast. I mean ice cold. Meanwhile, Johnson is hitting on every piece of ass walking by. I do mean every piece of ass."
"Now you're lying," Johnson protested.
"Who's telling the story here?"
"Well just get it right," Johnson snapped back."You're going to make poor Torres here think I'm a fuckin' fag."
"Well, you did hit on that one chick who turned out to be a guy so I'm not wrong."
"That bitch was also dressed like a woman so that doesn't count," Johnson snapped as he sat up, defending himself.
"Long hair does not count for dressing like a woman. Now, may I finish my story please?"
"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir," Johnson said sarcastically.
"Thank you. Now where was I? Oh yea, Johnson," Jonathan stressed Johnson's name and gave Johnson a look to ensure no more interruptions, "was hitting on every piece of ass. He even got a few takers. He wanted to leave and I said sure because I couldn't take anymore of Miss Ice Queen Bitch's attitude."
"I didn't know Joni was walking behind me when I said that. She heard me over the loud music too. Joni walked around to stand in front of me, smiled, and poured an entire pitcher of beer all over me slowly."
"Damn, that is cold," Torres laughed."But how did you get her to go out with you after that?"
"Well one of the girls Johnson took back to the hotel was in class with Joni and told me where to find her. I got her address and by lunchtime the next day I had sent her ten dozen roses. I sent a note stating I would continue to send a dozen roses every hour until she agreed to have dinner with me and let me apologize to her."
"It took another eight dozen before she called me and agreed to dinner. It was a late dinner but I took what I could get. At dinner I explained why I acted like a jerk and how sorry I was. I told her we were on leave for two weeks and where I was stationed. I turned the charm on to Warp nine speed."
"Before I knew it she was laughing and started to open up. I was very polite and acted like a gentleman the rest of the night. We went for a walk and talked for hours. She asked questions and I answered them honestly. When I took her back to her dorm I asked for another date. She said yes."
"I waited for her outside her classes and walked her to her next class everyday that we were in town. Johnson was pretty much on his own."
"Yea Torres," Johnson interrupted, "he forgot what it meant to never leave a man behind."
"Fuck you Bubba," Jonathan snapped back."You didn't need me to pick up chicks either. Don't let him fool you Torres; Johnson here was making up for lost time being overseas. He was in the hotel room most of the time, and not always with the same woman."
Johnson leaned back and smiled as he placed his hands behind his head, proud of what Jonathan had just stated.
"Anyway," Jonathan continued, "after two years of calls, letter writing, and brief visits when on leave, she agreed to marry me."
"Does she know exactly what you do in the Corps?"
Jonathan and Johnson looked at each other and laughed.
"You mean does she know I'm a cold blooded killer in the Sniper division? Yes she knows, I told her that on the first date. I didn't want to start off by lying to her."
"And she's okay with that?"
"No! She wants me to finish and then get out. She says eight years is a long time. I mean these past seven and a half years have been great but I think I want out too."
"What," Johnson blurted out shocked."Are you serious? After all we've been through you want to leave."
"Look buddy, I have a family to look after. I don't want my child growing up without a father. I have six months left and then I'm out."
"Yea but that's a long way off, you two aren't having kids for a few years," Johnson protested.
"Not any more," Jonathan said smiling.
"Bullshit!"
"Nope. Dead serious. I just found out this morning when I called home."
"Wow man," Torres said."Congratulations! So how far is she?"
"Just happened before we left for here," Jonathan said with an even bigger grin on his face than before.
"But you can have a kid and still be in the Corps, why do you have to leave," Torres asked, his mood changing from a playful one to a sad one."What about us? We're your family too. We got your back. You trust us don't you?"
"Torres, you have been with our unit now for what, six months?"
"Yea."
"There has never been a question of my trusting you guys. Until I got married the Corps was the only family I had. I know I have a home here but we both know I'm not going to get an office job in the Corps."
"As long as I'm in the Corps they are going to keep assigning me missions like this one. I'm always going to be put into combat situations. That means I could die out here."
"But you can easily die in the streets too," Johnson said.
"I know, I know. Look, nothing is set in stone yet. Just I promised Joni after this mission is over we'll talk about our options when I get home."
"Damn Johnny, you sure know how to kill a mood," Torres said.
"What do you expect from a Sniper, dumb ass? All he does is kill. Shit! I can't take anymore of this, I'm hitting the sack," Johnson said as he stood up."I hope you come to your senses in the morning."
* * * *
Morning came too soon. It was still very dark when Jonathan, Torres, and Johnson were ready to leave. There was a NATO light armor convoy coming through the camp in fifteen minutes. The convoy was delivering supplies to all the units spread out in Bosnia.
Jonathan, Torres, and Johnson, or the DEATH TRIO, as they called themselves, are going to stow away on the convoy and disappear into the woods closer to the heavy fighting. A Chechen General was taunting the Americans into fighting. His men had been taking pop shots at soldiers and then running away.
The General claimed to have a large storage of SAM's and Stingers and was not afraid to use them. Some Admiral somewhere decided to call the General's bluff and sent a pair of F/A-18 Hornets to try and get some aerial photographs of the base. The General decided to show he meant business. He fired on the Hornets. One got away and one was shot down.
The pilot, Captain Barnett of the Marine Corps, was taken prisoner. A week later NATO received a video tape of the pilot being tortured. One by one he was being passed around in a circle, with a hood over his face, as soldiers beat him. They tied him to a striped spring mattress and hooked it to a battery charger. They shocked him repeatedly until he soiled himself.
Then the General came on the screen."This is what will happen to every American that comes into my hands. You have been told to leave this country. This is not your fight. Your pilot will stay alive as long as he can hold out to the torture. You will not come near us again. Next time I release tape to the world."
The Trio's job was to gather enough intelligence so that the Navy SEALS could retrieve the Captain.
"Torres, did you take care of the 'last rights' box?"
"Yea, I did Johnny. Locked her up and gave it to the Colonel."
"Good."
The 'Last Rights' box was a box where each man put in everything that identified him, wallets, rings, and dog tags. They each wrote a letter to someone back home as a good-bye letter. They locked it inside a .50 cal ammo box and had the highest ranking Officer on the base holds onto the box until they got back.
"Yo, Johnny," Johnson came jogging toward Jonathan and Torres."Convoy is coming. Got everything ready to go. Your rifle's secure and no one knows about where we're going."
"Good. Let's do this. Look out General, here comes Death."
"Here comes Death," Torres repeated.
"Fuckin' A, here comes Death," Johnson chimed in.
The three of them walked over to the supply tent and watched as the soldiers unloaded the supplies. They just stood there watching, with hard looks on their faces. They were watching everything and everyone around them, looking for the slightest thing that might be out of place.
An Army Sergeant Major saw the three just standing there, not willing to help. He walked over to the trio and said, "Why don't you three get in gear and help unload those supplies."
"Excuse me Sergeant Major, but that's close enough," Johnson said as he raised his M-16 slightly, "Please don't come any closer."
Jonathan looked straight, his back to the Sergeant Major. Without being distracted from his scanning he answered the Sergeant Major's unasked question.
"Sorry about this Sergeant Major but who we are is none of your concern. And you're not cleared to speak with us. As dumb as that may sound, it's our orders. Now if you will go about your business we will be gone when the convoy leaves. For your sake, that's all that needs to be said."
The Sergeant Major just stood there dumbfounded; he did not know what to say. When the Sergeant Major saw Johnson raise his M-16 to his shoulder the Sergeant Major took the hint to leave. He could not challenge their rank because they wore no insignia whatsoever. The Sergeant Major turned on his heels and walked away.
* * * *
The ride to the insertion point took longer than expected. The insertion was simple. At the largest NATO field base two thirds of the remaining supplies was to be unloaded. During the unloading the trio was to make their way to the edge of the base and disappear into the woods.
Once gone, they were to head to the base where the F/A-18 was shot down. Their first and foremost mission was to gather as much intelligence on the base as possible. Captain Barnett was believed to be dead by now so going in to retrieve the body was a very distant second.
In Jonathan's mind, however, it was the exact opposite. Dead or alive, his first mission was to bring Captain Barnett home. Everything they needed was carried on them. Just like a SEAL team, once they ran out of ammo it was over.
When night fell it was so dark in the woods you could barley see one foot in front of you. That's just how Jonathan liked it. They walked very slowly and carefully. The bad thing was that fighting had been going on in this land for well over twenty years. That means, over the years, so many land mines and booby traps had been set that they were everywhere.
As the three walked they walked in a straight line. Jonathan is very strict and not many people want to work with him because of it. He made Torres and Johnson wear the exact same shoes as him. Same size, same style, same tread. He always walked out first and the other two stepped in his tracks. This way a tracker could not know exactly how many soldiers they were tracking. It may be a crude point but it always kept them alive.
Navigating in the dark was no easy task either. It took a lot of patience and by daybreak the trio was at the compound. They set up their lookout post and surveillance equipment. Torres was taking as many photos for intelligence as he could and uploaded them on a satellite signal back to the Army base.
Jonathan sat at the base of a tree and laid his rifle in his lap. He pulled a few large branches over himself, hiding from anyone not looking closely. He leaned his head back and before he could count to ten he was asleep.
"You know Johnson, I don't see how he could fall asleep that fast," Torres said pointing toward Jonathan.
"Guess it's all those years sleeping in the streets. You'd be surprised at most of the stuff he can do," Johnson paused, "or eat."
"Why don't you two girls talk a little louder. I want to have a shoot out early morning instead of tonight."
"Sorry Johnny," Johnson apologized.
"Just give me three hours of sleep then you can have a turn Johnson. Torres you can go last. Now zip it and let me know if anything changes."
Neither one of them said a word. They went back to setting things up. As Torres was taking pictures, Johnson was setting up trip wires. If they had to make a quick escape they were going to make sure no one could follow.
With everyone doing what needed to be done the time went pretty quickly. Night was approaching and as soon as it got dark they would move.
"Johnson, the traps set," Jonathan asked as he was double checking his gear.
"Yup. Got every possible chase route covered."
"Good. Torres, any change on where Captain Barnett is being held?"
"No, but we've been given orders not to go in. Unless, of course, we are taking heavy fire," Torres answered with a smile.
"As far as I'm concerned, we are taking fire in thirty minutes. I want to make this as quick and painless as possible. In and out. I want you two to do a double check on everything. We're only gonna get one shot at this."
Silence filled the air as everyone knew what they had to do. Night goggles on their faces to silencers on the weapons were checked over and over again. When it was time Jonathan got high into a tree while Johnson and Torres went down to the compound.
There was a patch on Johnson's and Torres's uniforms that can only be seen by a Starlight Scope. This allowed Jonathan to know exactly where they were inside the compound. The tree Jonathan picked made a great sniper perch. And with the silencer on his rifle there was no flash to trace.
Jonathan laid there watching as Johnson and Torres made it into the compound, setting remote explosives as they made their way to Captain Barnett.
"Death, Sickle One is in position," Johnson said as he crouched against a wall across from where Captain Barnett was being held.
"Roger that Sickle One. Sickle Two give me status."
"Stand-by one," Torres whispered.
Jonathan moved his rifle to where Torres should have been. As he scanned the area he could see Torres crouched down about two buildings away from where he should be. He could also see two soldiers standing around the corner smoking. This was going to turn into a serious situation.
"Sickle Two, Death. I got two bad guys on the other side of your position smoking. Backs are to you. Looks as if threat will leave as soon as they are finished. If THIS does go down we do it quiet. Draw your blade in response."
Torres drew his knife from the side of his right boot. He held it ready to gut anyone who came around the corner. Jonathan would have to make the call. He kept his sights on the two men. They finished their cigarettes and lit up another. The longer they stayed there the better the chances of them getting caught.
"Sickle Two, Death. Need you to cause a distraction. Throw a rock away from you. I'll take out the lead, you gut the tail."
Torres picked up a rock and tossed it into a shadow, making the two soldiers turn around quickly. They both dropped their cigarettes and raised their AK-47s. They walked slowly toward where Torres tossed the rock.
Just as they passed Torres, Jonathan fired a shot, hitting the lead soldier between the eyes, and quickly loaded the next round before the soldier fell dead to the ground. Torres had the other soldier lying dead on the ground with his body slit across his stomach.
Torres stood up and pulled the bodies into the shadows where no one could see them. He picked both soldiers of any value, along with their AKs.
"Death, Sickle Two is good to go. Now I have an AK for the package."
"Roger that Sickle Two. Let's get the package and get the HELL out of Dodge."
As quickly and quietly as possible Johnson and Torres broke into the building where Captain Barnett was held. The silencers allowed them to kill everyone in the building without being detected.
The trio made their way out of the complex, slowly. Captain Barnett was beaten very badly but still wanted to fight his way out, after all, he is a Marine. Jonathan kept watching the complex to see if anyone knew what was going on. So far so good.
"Death, Sickle One and Two are on the yellow brick road, heading toward Oz."
"Roger that. Blowing the compound in ten."
"Copy Death," Johnson answered."See you at the extract."
Jonathan counted to ten slowly then activated the remote detonator. He pushed the little red button that made the bombs explode. One by one the bombs went off in five seconds intervals.
Jonathan smiled as he watched the soldiers scurry around like ants. Everything was in total chaos. No one seemed to know what to do first or where to go. The final bomb went off at the armory. The secondary explosions proved that the mission was well worth the risk.
Stinger missiles and grenades exploded causing everyone to drop to the ground. As Jonathan took one last look around through his scope he could not believe what appeared before him, the main man himself, General Bazda.
This is the opportunity of a lifetime. General Bazda had been on an unofficial assassination list now for over a year. There was no way Jonathan could pass up this golden opportunity. He took careful aim.
"Steady," he said to himself as he slowed his breathing down.
When he got the sight he wanted Jonathan squeezed the trigger. The bullet left the rifle without a sound.
* * * *
"Do you realize I can have you court marshaled for what you've done Gunny! No matter what you THINK, you did exceed your orders! A SEAL team was working out a plan based on the surveillance intel you were sending. Those were your orders. SURVEILLANCE INTEL ONLY! What in the hell were you thinking?"
"Sir," Jonathan responded, "I thought about what was best for the Corps. I saw the opportunity to bring home a Marine from behind enemy lines and I took it. The Corps has taught me to fight and I DO love the work, Sir."
"Don't you fuckin' get cute with me son! And General Bazda, why did you shoot at him?"
"Colonel, you know as well as I do that General Bazda was on the "LIST." We both know that it is my duty as a Sniper to take out anyone on that list that comes into my crosshairs."
"Well, sorry to inform you Gunny but you DO NOT get credit for that kill. In fact, the Checs get credit for everything you did, since we weren't suppose to be there. Because of that I can not recommend you for a medal. All I can do is hope your actions cancels out a court marshal. You have, what, six months left?"
"Yes Sir."
"If you're lucky you'll spend the remainder of that time behind a desk. Your transport leaves in one hour. You better be on it. Dismissed."
Jonathan saluted, "Aye aye Sir," and spun on his heels to leave.
"One more thing Gunny."
Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks and turned back around."Sir?"
"That was one hell of a shot. The world is better off without that bastard BUT you didn't hear that from me."
"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."
* * * *
Chapter 3
First Introduction
"And thirty cents is your change," Jonathan said as he handed the lady facing him her change. "Thank you Mam' and have a great day."
"Thank you young man," she replied. "You know I'm real glad the store was able to stay open. How is Mr. Hernandez doing these days?"
"He's doing good," Jonathan replied softly. "He's moved down to Miami and loves it."
"Good. I hope you like New York," she said as she walked toward the door."You tell Joni hello for me."
"Yes Mam' I will."
Jonathan laughed as the door closed. In a city where everyone is suppose to be so rude, so far everyone he'd met had been friendly. When he was discharged from the Marines four months ago he was not sure what he was going to do. Jillian, his daughter, was born three months later.
His buddies from the Corps threw Jonathan and Joni a huge party to celebrate. During the party he noticed that Joni looked saddened. After the party he went to talk with her.
"Jonathan, I feel alone here. You have your friends that come by all the time but I have no one."
"What do you propose we do about that," Jonathan asked longingly. "I mean, this is where I'm stationed."
"Were stationed," Joni corrected. "You aren't in the Corps anymore."
Those words hit Jonathan hard. He really did not want to leave the Corps. He loved what he did, he was good at. Jonathan was the best the Corps ever trained but he loved Joni more.
"You're right. I'm no longer in the Corps." Jonathan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "So what would make you happy Joni?"
Joni looked Jonathan in the eyes. Her answer was on the tip of her tongue but she was afraid of what her husband would say. She looked over at Jillian lying in her crib.
"Jillian needs to be around family, real family. I need to be around family Jonathan. I can't handle raising Jillian alone."
"But you're not alone."
"Yes I am," Joni snapped. "If you're not at the base with the boys then you're out having drinks with them. I doubt that will change. You haven't even found a job yet. Money is going to get tight, fast."
Jonathan knew where this was going.
"You want to go home to New York don't you," Jonathan asked, his head hung low, the answer hanging in the air.
"Yes," Joni responded with tears in her eyes.
Jonathan pulled Joni to him, hugging her close. How could he say no to her? Jonathan thought that since he had nothing to tie him down anymore then why not take Joni home.
Joni's uncle, George Hernandez owned a corner store in the neighborhood where Joni grew up. The corner store has been in the family for twenty-five years. George was ready to retire and no one in the family wanted it. George did not want to sell it unless he had to. Jonathan was his last chance to keep it in the family.
On the first night in their new apartment, Joni invited her uncle over for dinner. She was going to try and help convince Jonathan into taking over the store.
"You don't have to worry about having a boss. And everyone is so friendly around here."
"Uncle George always closes the store around seven. Nothing has to change once you take over. You can be home for dinner and spend quality time with Jillian. It's never really busy. You won't be overwhelmed."
"That's IF I take it over. We don't have the money to start a business," Jonathan said, unsure of taking over the store.
"That's okay. You don't need money. I'm not selling the store to you; I'm giving it to you."
"But wouldn't you get more money if you sell it?"
"Look Johnny, the store is a good business. People around here depend on the store. They are honest people who need a break and I've always given them one."
"If I sell the store, how do I know the new owner won't run it into the ground? How will I know that what I've built with my own two hands won't be torn apart?"
"How do you know I won't do those things?"
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