Mark opened the door and poked his head inside the barracks. There was a row of empty bunks along either wall. Each bed was fresh and unslept in. There was no gear on any of them.
“Bagsies,” Mark said out loud to himself, tossing his gear onto the bunk in front of the door.
He’d thought of nothing but Tabitha’s bombshell all the way to Fort Bragg. Pregnant. How could this have happened? He was a Special Forces soldier. Sometimes he had to leave at the drop of a hat, for months at a time. He couldn’t have any responsibilities right now. At the age of twenty-six he still had a good number of serving years left in him, and then onto the ranks of upper command, should he cut the mustard.
Mark sat on the end of the bed and focused on the problem. He’d found through hard experience that often the midst of a crisis offered the best chance for opportunity. Some of the greatest wartime successes had developed from moments that appeared, on the face of it, to be out and out losers. It forced you to think creatively, to think outside the box. So long as he could outwit his opponent there was no need for concern. A mistake was sometimes an avenue the enemy had dismissed and hadn’t prepared for.
He was third-generation Special Forces. He had grown up listening to the stories of his father and grandfather going on adventures all over the world. He hadn’t seen them often, but they’d made an impression. From a young age all he ever wanted to do was follow in their footsteps. Now, he might lose that part of himself, the part he was most comfortable with. What would he be without the Special Forces?
The word ‘tenacious’ had been written on his school report cards more often than any other, even when it was meant as an insult. He wasn’t the smartest student or even the strongest, but where everyone else eventually gave up, he stuck it out, no matter what. He couldn’t bring himself to fail.
The only way to fail is to give up,
his father had told him.
But remember you don’t always have to succeed.
Where was the road to military success with having a baby? As hard as he tried, he couldn’t find one.
There was a knock on the door. It creaked open and a familiar face poked inside. The face smiled, and then grinned.
“Jacob,” Mark said. “I wondered when you were going to show your ugly mug.”
“Hey up, Skipper,” Jacob said. “No sign of apeman John, yet? That’s good news.”
They hugged, a manly gesture followed by a hearty slap on the back.
“Can you believe they called us back already?” Jacob said.
“A few free hours,” Mark said. “About the best we can hope for these days.”
“Do you know what it’s all in aid of?” Jacob said.
Mark shook his head.
“I’m in the dark too on this one,” he said. “Must be pretty urgent if they felt the need to call us now, so soon after we left on leave.”
“How’s Tabby?” Jacob said.
“She’s fine,” Mark said. “She asked how the baby soldier was.”
“Good as roses,” Jacob said.
“How’s your mom?” Mark said.
“She’s fine,” Jacob said. “She wore her favorite cardigan to see me.”
“That’s cute,” Mark said.
“Ain’t it though?” Jacob said.
Jacob had a slight frown that told Mark that wasn’t the whole story, but he didn’t pry.
A thud on the door from a meaty fist. The door opened again, this time admitting John’s large face. His beard was scraggly and long, unkempt from when they’d last seen one another just a few hours earlier.
“Evening all,” John said.
“John,” Jacob said. “Long time no see.”
“I can barely remember the last time all of us were together in one place,” John said.
“I believe that, grandfather,” Jacob said with a grin.
“Hey!” Mark said, waving a finger at Jacob. “Respect your elders.”
John glared at Mark.
“Thanks for that,” he said. “Always good to know you’ve got the support of your comrades.”
“You don’t need comrade support,” Jacob said. “You need surgical support.”
John glared at him, nostrils flared. Their eyes met. Jacob was blasé. They turned to look at the bunk beside the door – opposite Mark’s. John and Jacob dived for it.
“Get out of it, you gobshite,” John said.
“I’m the baby of the team,” Jacob said.
“So you get the cot,” John said. “We elderly need to be close to the restroom facilities.”
“I always get the cot!” Jacob said.
“All right, don’t cry,” John said. “Shall I call the nurse?”
“Wasn’t your mom a nurse?” Jacob said.
“That’s below the belt,” John said.
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Jacob said.
“You dirty sod,” John said.
Whatever troubles they might have outside, they were brothers here, playing, fighting, arguing. A true dysfunctional family.
“I see I’m just in time for the orgy,” a voice said.
They all turned to see a new face appear around the door. Their smiles fell. This face was long and thin, a tall figure with gaunt eyes. It wasn’t Roach. His name was Daoud.
“I’ll be top,” he said. “I don’t do well at submission.”
John sat on the edge of his bed, all mirth gone. He sucked his teeth. Jacob dropped his bag on his bunk.
An uncomfortable pause.
“Nice to see you all too,” Daoud said.
“I’m starving,” John said, ignoring Daoud. “Any of you boys fancy a bland meal courtesy of the military’s skill-less cooks?”
“When you put it like that how can I refuse?” Jacob said.
“Mark?” John said.
“I’ll go see the CO,” Mark said. “See what we’re doing here.”
“Suit yourself,” John said.
He and Jacob left, tossing a dirty glance at Daoud.
“I can see making friends is going to be a tall order,” Daoud said.
“Can you blame them?” Mark said icily. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable.”
He pushed the door open. It banged closed.
“Come.”
Mark took a breath to steady himself and opened the door. A man about Mark’s height sat behind a large desk. He looked solid, immovable. Command oozed from his every movement, a man used to being in charge.
“Ah, Mark,” Major Edwards said. “I needed to speak to you about-”
“Is this some kind of joke?” Mark said.
“Excuse me?” Major Edwards said.
“Having
him
on our team,” Mark said.
“I’ll have to look over our training system,” Major Edwards said. “It appears it was a mistake to remove manners from the itinerary.”
“Major-” Mark said.
“The last time I checked, and I check rather often, I was your senior officer,” Major Edwards said. “By several ranks, I might add.”
Mark gritted his teeth. He knew he was wrong, but his anger made him hasty.
“Sir-” he said.
“You’ll speak when spoken to,” Major Edwards said. “Shut the door.”
Mark turned, his movements stiff. It took every ounce of his self-control not to slam it. The major kept Mark waiting while he read his document. Mark turned his head to the side. Now that his anger was sated, he was annoyed with himself. Getting angry – particularly at Major Edwards – was never a viable road to success.
Taking Mark’s calm attitude as a starting pistol, the major finished reading, put the folder down on the desk, and interwove his fingers.
“Now,” he said. “Let’s have a grown-up conversation without forgetting proper protocol shall we? How can I help you, soldier?”
“Sir, forgive my earlier outburst,” Mark said. “I was just pulled in from leave and my temper was a little short. I meant no offense.”
“Accepted,” Major Edwards said. “In response to your earlier comment, no, this is not a joke.”
The comment stoked Mark’s temper.
“It’s bad enough you pull us back after just a few hours on leave, but teaming us up with Daoud?” Mark said. “Why didn’t you recruit Roach?”
“Take a seat,” Major Edwards said.
“I’d prefer to stand,” Mark said.
The major drummed his fingers on his desk. Mark took a deep breath to calm himself and then sat down.
“My first choice for sniper was naturally Roach,” Major Edwards said. “You know each other inside out, work well together, but unfortunately… he’s not available.”
“Not available?” Mark said.
That didn’t sound like the Roach he knew. He was the first to volunteer for a mission, the first to leap into danger.
The major opened his mouth, before closing it and shifting in his chair. Major Edwards was not a man to reconsider his words often. Mark’s stomach plummeted.
“I’ve been debating about how much to tell you,” Major Edwards said. “I wanted you to keep your mind completely on your task. But now you’re here, I can see it’s wrong to keep the truth from you.”
Major Edwards hesitated.
“Your friend, Roach, is dead,” he said. “He died an hour ago at Vertigo Ravine.”
The ground shifted beneath Mark’s feet. The world paused in its revolutions. Mark just stared. He blinked. Then he shook his head.
“No,” he said.
He felt the chords in his throat vibrate, but he was certain it couldn’t have been his voice that came out. It was too calm.
“He was with us this morning,” he said. “You must have him mixed up with someone else.”
“I’m afraid not,” Major Edwards said. “It was his truck that was involved in the accident. He was seen getting into it at the bar. The driver of the lorry he swerved to avoid positively identified him. I’m sorry.”
Operating in the theater of war, Mark was used to seeing death, but never so far from the battlefield. Never on home soil.
“I realize this must come as quite a shock,” Major Edwards said.
Mark let out a deep lungful of air, his hands clasped over the top of his head. With no other outlet, Mark directed his anger inward, at himself. It was his fault. He was responsible for his team. There must have been something he did wrong.
“How?” Mark said, his voice tight.
“Car accident,” Major Edwards said. “He was going too fast and spun the wheel to avoid a truck driver changing a spare.”
Mark shook his head. It was nonsensical.
“It’s always tough, losing a comrade,” Major Edwards said.
“He should have died in the field,” Mark said.
“Everywhere is the field now,” Major Edwards said. “Every day a fight for survival. You never know when your number is going to be called. That’s why it’s important to live every moment like it’s your last.”
“Was it fast?” Mark said.
“Instantaneous,” Major Edwards said. “He was a good soldier.”
“He was a great soldier,” Mark said. “Everything a soldier should be. Loyal, hardworking, fierce. Everything Daoud isn't.”
Daoud. Yes. He could be the scapegoat for Mark’s anger and pain. He funneled it all at the lanky streak of piss.
“Have you spent the time to get to know him?” Major Edwards said. “The way you have the rest of your team?”
“No,” Mark said.
“Then you can't know him the way you say you do,” Major Edwards said. “That wasn't the way you were raised and it certainly wasn't the way you were trained.”
He was right, as usual. The bonds formed during war were different to those formed under any other kind of experience. Going through it together formed connections that couldn’t be matched, even with a lifelong partner. Under pressure, with your life on the line, you learnt what kind of person you were.
“You can’t replace him,” Mark said.
“Replace whom?” Major Edwards said.
“Roach,” Mark said.
“Of course not,” Major Edwards said. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“We can’t have Daoud on our team,” Mark said.
“No one else is available,” Major Edwards said.
“Then we won’t go,” Mark said.
“You will,” Major Edwards said, his voice cold and hard as steel. “You’re under orders. Besides, he’s a good sniper. You don’t waste talent like that.”
“You do when it puts the rest of us in danger,” Mark said.
The major pursed his lips.
“I’m aware of Daoud’s history,” he said. “I’ll have a word with him. Remind him what his priority should be.”
“If he needs reminding, he shouldn’t be here,” Mark said.
“Sometimes things aren’t as simple on the ground,” Major Edwards said. “Sometimes we need to make the unpopular decision.”
Mark shook his head. A soldier’s responsibility was to the rest of his unit. It was drilled into them from the moment they arrived at training school. It was not something you needed to choose. It was automatic. You just did it.
“Roach was… different on the last tour,” Mark said.
“We all change,” Major Edwards said. “Service ages you. Look at me. I’m really twenty-five.”
The major’s attempt at humor fell flat. Mark was numb.
“You need to learn to smile,” Major Edwards said. “Death is a part of life. It’s hardest for those of us left behind, but your friend lived a good life. It was short, but he achieved a lot. More than most people do during a long life.”
“Think I’d prefer to do nothing and live a longer life,” Mark grumbled.
“Would you?” Major Edwards said. It was an open challenge. “Sometimes we tell ourselves that, but I’m not sure we would.”
“Depends if you’ve got something to live for, I suppose,” Mark said.
“You have something to live for,” Major Edwards said. “You have your country. Your honor. Your duty.”
The major sighed. He stood up and took off his beret.
The major had dual personalities, like a superhero. That was probably why Mark idolized him as a kid. When the major took his beret off, the stresses and strains of command were lifted from his shoulders. He became Clark Kent, and kept his superhero alter ego for the battlefield. He allowed himself to feel the equally difficult, but rewarding, emotions associated with fatherhood. He stood behind Mark and placed a thick hand on his shoulder.
“You have me,” Major Edwards said. “Roach couldn’t deal with all the death he’d faced over the years.”
“Don’t we all struggle?” Mark said.
“We do what we do for our loved ones,” Major Edwards said. “Roach had no one to fight for, save you and your team.”
“That’s fine for the cameras,” Mark said. “But we also do what we do for a paycheck. There’s little separating us from mercenaries save a long term contract.”
“You don’t believe that,” Major Edwards said. “If you did, you wouldn’t still be here. The key is knowing you have something to live for, to die for, before it all comes to an end.”
“You believe that?” Mark said.
“I do,” Major Edwards said. “I have you, your mother, when she was alive. You have Tabitha. Play your cards right, and you’ll have a family with her and you’ll understand what I’m telling you.”
I already do
, Mark thought.
And it doesn’t make things easier, only harder.
“She isn't going to wait forever,” Mark said.
“Your mother was the same,” Major Edwards said. “She waited for me. There’s no reason to think Tabitha won’t wait for you.”
“Tell me why I’m making her wait this time,” Mark said. “A super-important mission with the fate of the rest of world on its shoulders?”
Major Edwards smiled. He put his beret back on and assumed his responsibilities.
“Something along those lines,” he said.
Mark’s eyebrows drew into a frown.