Camp chaos, p.21
Camp Chaos, page 21
part #1 of The Unit Series
She had her hands clasped between her knees, bent over slightly, staring vacantly at the coffee table. “I could see it pissed you off, too.”
“That’s really what set you off? I don’t think so. What’s bothering you, Hank?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Are we going to talk about this now? No time like the present, I guess. “I have a decision I have to make.”
“Some sort of shit sliding down from above?”
“No, a personal decision.”
“It has to be some kind of heavy decision from the way you were acting last night.”
I might as well tell her. “It is. I have to decide if I should retire from the unit.”
The news hit her like a sledge hammer. Her little voices started to scream. NO! NO, THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!
She started to shake. “Spud, you can’t do this. You love the unit. It’s your life!”
“For the good of the unit, I might have to.”
“But why? Are you sick? Do you think you just can’t keep up with the rest of us anymore?”
“No. I think I might end up in Leavenworth if I don’t.”
No! No, no, no! I’m responsible for this! I’m going to take his life away! And when his is gone, mine will be gone as well! I can’t let this happen, I can’t!
She started to sob. “This is all because of me. This is all my fault. I’m taking away everything you love!”
He felt his heart being crushed. “No, Hank. Don’t say that. You aren’t responsible for my feelings. Only I can control that.”
She jumped up. Whirling and facing him, she said, “But I’m responsible for my feelings!” Pounding on her chest, she said again, “I’m responsible for my feelings!” She started to pound her fist against her thigh while saying, “Damn it! Damn it!”
He got up and grabbed her. “Stop. Stop, Hank.”
She put her arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably. “I can’t let you do this! I can’t let you just walk out.”
Spud felt helpless. Should I comfort her? Should I ask her to leave? What the hell should I do? His heart was aching.
“I can’t do this without you, Spud. I can’t. If you quit, I’ll quit as well. If it takes me the rest of our lives, I’ll search for you. I can’t help it, Spud. Fuck it to hell and back. Fuck the whole thing! I tried not to love you, but I do.” She sat back down, burying her face in her hands, sobbing.
He wanted to touch her, to soothe her. He wanted to kiss her and tell her everything would be alright, that somehow, they could do something to be together. He felt anger toward the doctors, anger toward the fraternization rule, anger toward the unit that he’d never felt before.
“We’ve got to figure something out,” she said, wiping her face on her sleeve. “This is the best job I’ve ever had and ever will have. I can’t leave the unit, and I can’t leave you.”
He took her chin in his hand and raised her face so he could look at her directly. “I can’t leave the unit, and I can’t leave you, either. But I just can’t see how we can continue to be together and stay apart.”
She felt anger bubble up inside her. “We are not fucking leaving the unit, Spud. And we aren’t fucking leaving each other, either. I’d rather love you from a distance than not ever see you again. If that’s what I have to do, then I’ll do it. Voice figured out how to shut the damned comm link up – maybe he can think about how to help us be together. But in the meantime, we just go on. We just do the mission. Maybe if we just think about the mission, we can get through until we can figure out what to do about us.”
17
Spud walked into Doc Andy’s office.
“Things still troubling you?” Doc Andy asked, placing a glass of water on the table by the couch in his office. He indicated Spud should sit.
“I don’t think this is going to take long,” Spud said, remaining standing. “I’ve made a decision.”
Doc Andy picked up on the tinge of anger in Spud’s voice.
“I’m not leaving the unit.”
That’s a relief. “Can I ask why you changed your mind?”
“Hank and I had a talk last night.”
If she jilted him, this could be worse. “What did you talk about?”
“We talked about how we felt. And she got more upset than I ever thought I’d see her. She was hitting herself in the leg with her fist, hurting herself. She was doing it because she thought the man she loves was leaving.” He leaned down and put his face right in front of Doc Andy’s. “And I don’t ever want to see the woman I love go through that again. I don’t even want to be sitting somewhere up there,” pointing upward to the outside world, “thinking that she might be going through that again. I’m going to stay right here and make sure it doesn’t happen, even if I can’t touch her.”
He turned and started to walk back out the door. Turning back to Doc Andy, he said, “But I think you docs better reevaluate one of the rules around here. Because right now, the only reason I’m staying is because I care about Hank. Right now, I couldn’t give a shit about this unit.” He turned and left.
Doc Andy sat at his desk, his chin resting on his fist. Houston, we’ve got a problem here.
Next door, Doc Rich watched on the security feed as Hank made her way to the cafeteria. Hank was limping slightly. “That doesn’t look good,” Doc Rich muttered. “Hank, report to Medical 2.”
Hank sighed. First day of the rest of my fucking rotten life, and Doc Rich just has to ice it with a cow shit for me. She walked into the office. “What is it, Doc Rich?”
“I noticed you’re limping. Are you injured?”
“Not really.”
Doc Rich got up. Patting on the examining table, she said, “Drop your shorts and let me examine your leg.”
Oh, fuck.
“Hank, you’ve got a heckuva bruise here.”
“Yeah, I slipped on the bathroom floor and whacked my leg on the edge of the toilet. I feel like an idiot. Should have put down a bath mat.”
“You look like you didn’t sleep last night, either.”
“For fuck’s sake! I’ve got a bruise the size of a grapefruit on my leg. Of course I didn’t sleep well!”
Doc Rich looked at her face. The expression told her that she shouldn’t believe what Hank was saying. But having no real evidence to think the story was anything other than true, she said, “Better make sure to put down a mat next time. We don’t want you down due to an injury. And it might not be a bad idea to skip a couple of PT sessions.”
“It’ll be ok. I’ve got to work on upper body strength anyway, so it won’t put a lot of stress on the leg.”
“If it gives you any grief, come back and see me. In the meantime, hit the whirlpool and take some acetaminophen for any pain you might be having.”
“Sure thing, Doc Rich.”
As Hank left her office, Doc Rich thought, Something’s not right here.
Spud joined the rest of the team at the team table. Hank was already seated, her tablet with the daily duty roster in front of her. An empty seat was next to her.
Spud grabbed some coffee and made for the nearest seat to him at the opposite end of the table. “Guys, mind scooting down one?”
The rest of the team all looked up at him, then over to Hank, then back. The two sitting on the side of the table with the empty chair got up and moved one seat closer to Hank.
Hank stood up. “I see PT in the gym is first up. “Think I’ll go change. I want to see if I can’t get a few more of these overhand pull-ups in.”
As she walked off toward her quarters, the rest of the team all looked at Spud, who was head down concentrating on his coffee.
“Something wrong between you and Hank?” Cloud asked.
“No,” Spud replied, tersely.
“’Cuz you guys usually chat a bit.”
“So? We’re not chatting this morning. So what?” Spud was looking at him with an ‘it’s none of your fucking business’ look.
“Excuuuuse us,” Crow said.
“You know, sometimes a guy can’t get a stinking cup of coffee around here without someone making a dumbass remark,” Spud said. “I think I’ll go finish this in the library.” He grabbed his coffee and left.
“Anyone else notice something?” Turtle said.
“Like what?”
“Like he didn’t eat anything, and she didn’t eat much. She even left half of her coffee sitting here on the table. Plus, we know what he does in the library, and why.”
“Might have something to do with the chat Hank and Spud had last night,” Voice said.
“They got together last night?”
“Yeah, for a private chat,” Voice said, pantomiming removing an earpiece and dropping it into a box.
“Think maybe she pissed him off or vice versa?” Edge asked.
“No idea. I just loaned her the box, I wasn’t part of the conversation.”
“I’ve never heard of someone getting pissed off with their recruiter,” Turtle said. “Usually, the recruiter and the recruited end up being the best of friends.”
“That’s not written in stone,” Voice said.
“But you all heard them on the plane. It seemed like they hit it off right from the start,” Cloud said. “Nothing about this makes sense.”
“Ok, Hank,” Mike began. “Your real weakness, at least as far as being up to Marine standards, is upper body. We need to get you so you can do a few more than the minimum pull-ups.”
“It’s doing them over-handed that’s kicking me in the ass. In the Bureau, they let us do them palm facing us.”
“That’s actually a flexed-arm hang,” Mike said. “They let the women in the Marines do them, but not the men. And you’re supposed to be a man, so guess what you have to do?”
She nodded. “No problem. I welcome the challenge, Drill Instructor.”
“Good thing. You can already do the minimum of three, but let’s see if we can’t get you up quite a bit higher. We’re going to multiply that by two, and that’s going to be your first improvement goal. Six pull-ups. I’ll get your training program updated, and you’ll have it on your tablet. You’re going to want to do six pull-ups every other day. If you can’t get them done in one session, then let your muscles rest a bit and get back here to the gym when you have a chance and do some more. Keep doing that until you’ve got six done all at one sitting each day you do your PT. Don’t push so hard that you get really sore, or you won’t make your goal the next time you do your pull-ups. Try to get just one more pull-up in at your initial set when you come in to do PT in the morning. When you get so you can do four, then try for five. We’ll give that two weeks, then see how many you can do at the end of that time. Then revise the goal – hopefully upward, of course.” Mike thought a bit. “You know, I might have to alter the dress after this, too. If you buff up your upper body muscles, it’s going to give your ladies there some extra umf.”
I might never want to wear that dress again. “First goal has to be to make myself into a male Marine, Mike.”
Hearing her tone, Mike thought, But I thought you loved that dress?
“Everyone ready for range time this afternoon?” Turtle asked over lunch.
“You mean, everyone ready to be embarrassed by Hank this afternoon?” Voice clarified. The team members all laughed a bit until they noticed that Hank wasn’t joining in.
“Not going to be there,” she said, playing with her food.
“Why not?” Spud asked.
“None of the Marine units were scheduled for the long-distance rifle range, so Luigi and I are going above deck to get the final tweaks done on the Sako.” She got up, took her plate of food and scraped it into the trash, put her dirty plate in the dish bin, and saying, “I’d better get ready,” walked out of the cafeteria.
The team watched her leave. The silence in the cafeteria was oppressive.
“Spud, do you have any idea what’s bothering Hank?” Cloud asked. “She never smiles anymore. She’s not eating. She’s not even cussing her usual blue streak.”
“Why would you think I’d know what’s eating her?” Spud demanded.
“Because you’re her recruiter, and because we’re thinking maybe it’s the same thing that’s eating you.”
“I haven’t got anything eating me,” he said, trying not to allow any sign of emotion enter into his tone. “I’m the grand old man of this unit, remember? I get tired from time to time.”
Cloud raised an eyebrow. Never heard him make an excuse based on his age before.
“I think I should get ready, too,” he said, and made his way out of the cafeteria.
Once he’d left, Cloud said, “I think we need to have a little meeting to discuss this business with Spud and Hank, guys. Just the five of us. We’ve got a little free time this afternoon, so I’m going to suggest 1500 in the library. Be there.”
“Ok, Sweetheart. You gotcher target down there at two hunderd yards. Take a shot, an’ let’s see where she goes.”
Hank lay prone on the ground, poised with the Sako. Her sight picture through the scope seemed to waver back and forth. Her little voices made the analysis and whispered, heartbeat.
She took a deep breath, in… out..., and tried to settle on the rifle again. This time she could see it clearly herself: the movement of the rifle with every heartbeat. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, took another. Settled onto the rifle stock. Too rapid. Need to get more settled. Too rapid.
“What’s yer problem, Sweetheart? Two hunderd yards, I would think you could-a made three shots in that time.”
“I can’t seem to settle, Luigi. It’s like my heart is pounding. Maybe something I ate at lunch is giving me the heebie jeebies.”
“From what I heard, you didn’t eat any lunch.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s it.”
Luigi gave her a long, knowing look. “I know it’s got nothin’ to do with lunch.”
She lifted her head from the rifle stock and looked at him.
“You’ve been breakin’ my heart this whole week,” Luigi said. “’Cuz I see you’ve got another guy took your heart away from me. An’ you’ve got a rule says you can’t even kiss him.”
She crossed her arms on the ground and buried her face in them. Luigi could see her shoulders heave as she tried not to cry out loud.
“Hank, just let it out,” Luigi said. “You’re gettin’ a shitty deal, so just let it out.”
She sobbed. “I don’t know if I can do this, Luigi. Maybe I’m the one who should leave.”
“Who said anything about leavin’?” Luigi asked.
“Spud. He said he might leave for the good of the unit. But if he leaves, I don’t think I’ll want to shoot anymore.”
“Well, then we’ve gotta figure somethin’ out, Sweetheart. Because he leaves, then your heart breaks. An’ your heart breaks, then you can’t shoot. Then they’ll say, ‘Why don’t you resign, Hank?’ Then my heart breaks. Then I don’t wanna work on guns no more.”
“This whole thing is a big, fucking mess.”
“Yeah, you’re right ‘bout that. Somethin’s gotta give for sure. For right now, let me help you with this.” He sat down next to her cross-legged and put his hand on her shoulder. “Now you imagine this hand is his hand, and you send one down there to two hunderd yards for me.”
She settled back onto the rifle. Closing her eyes, she could see Spud sitting next to her, hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch that told her he was with her. She opened her eyes and peered through the rifle scope. Slowly moving her finger from alongside the receiver of the rifle to the trigger so that the crosshairs of the scope never moved from her target, she gently squeezed, sending the round downrange.
“That’s a good shot,” Luigi said. “You put that one right through the middle of the bullseye. You wanna put another one there, or you wanna go to three hunderd yards?”
“Too easy,” she said. “Let’s take it out to five.”
“Five hunderd yard target. You got it.” He adjusted the spotting scope he was looking through, then put his hand back on her shoulder. “Send it on down there to five hunderd yards, Hank.”
She closed her eyes and saw Spud with his hand on her shoulder again, smiling, and heard him say, You can do this, Hank. She settled on the rifle, saw the motion of the rifle slow and then stop. Her little voice said, Send it.
“Right on the money again, Sweetheart,” Luigi said. “Now, down there at a thousand yards, there’s a two foot by four foot steel gong.” He put his hand back on her shoulder. “Hit it for me.”
She adjusted the scope and settled on the rifle, this time seeing just a hint of motion. She waited until the motion dampened and the only thing apparent when her heart took a rest between beats was the barest of jitters. Send it. The round sizzled as it flew down range, then hit the gong with a clang! that didn’t come back to her firing spot until a few seconds after the shot rang out. “Too easy, Spud.”
And it will be too easy as long as there’s a Spud for her here, Luigi thought.
“Ok, everyone knows why we’re here,” Cloud said. “Apparently we’ve got something going on between Spud and Hank that we’ve got to put a stop to before it gets nastier.”
“Seems like it’s pretty nasty already,” Turtle remarked.
“She didn’t seem particularly angry when she borrowed my little box,” Voice said. “But things sure seem to have gone downhill really quickly.”
“So how do we handle it?” Crow asked. “It’s not like you can just tell two people who want to beat the shit out of each other to shake hands and play nice.”
“Maybe we get together with them and see if we can’t help them hash it out,” Voice suggested.
“That’s not something we want Med A listening in on. Can your little box hold seven earpieces?”
“Not sure about that.”
“You know,” Edge said, “sometimes you guys are as thick as the bullshit between your ears.”
