Ben was in good spirits and was eager to get into rehab. The bullet had just missed his shin bone and landed in the fleshy part of his calf. Hurt like hell he thought, but it missed his bone which was Gold with him.
His attitude was buoyed by the fact that his buddy, Lt. Chris Stiles was coming to visit him. Chris happened to be a Lt. since he graduated from Brown.
Ben did not graduate from Brown as he was too eager too take on the terrorist who brought down the Towers. He vowed to go back and finish school someday but that day would have to wait.
Ben had no regrets. His father was the head of a major Paper company, his mother was a beautiful former model who had the brains of Einstein.
He took both his mothers looks and brains, but his sheer brute strength came from his 2 pack a day father who could still probably kick Ben's ass. How his father even found time to smoke that much perplexed Ben.
Ben was a self reliant type who as a boy in the summertime would spend weeks in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, trekking the same paths the Algonquin and others had before.
His first taste of freedom was when he was eleven and he woke up from a camping trip with his father all alone. Just a note in the dirt telling Ben 'school starts in three weeks.'
At first Ben panicked, then he sat down and took a bearing on his surroundings. It did not take long for him to realize he was free. Using his new found freedom he hunted and fished along with the wildlife around him.
He even had a Peregrine Falcon that came to his fire every night, dropping the entrails of a rodent it just killed. He named him Alf, after his favorite show at the time. 'Alf' would look at Ben as to say " cook this will ya?"
For four summers Alf and Ben would keep watch on their respective site on Mt. Chocatura. Then Ben found out he liked the girls who went to a nearby all girls academy not to far from his all boys school. Alf faded into memory soon after.
***********************************
The wildlife lessons of yesteryear saved Ben's ass in the scorching heat of Baluchistan. When his squad was ambushed he immediately turned to the Afghan Commando Unit that was serving alongside his recce squad.
The Afghan leaders eyes squared onto the coming directions of the bullets and shrapnel. He knew where they were coming from! Ben shot him through the eyes.
The other men in the squad threw their flash bangs and smoke grenades and dispersed to pre-coordinated sites. Never trust an Afghan on your side or the other side in battle, was their first outline in the mission plan.
With two teammates down and surrounded by hostiles Ben called for a Sea Hawk to no avail. The FMF AmbphibGru ( fleet marine force, amphibious assault group ) would not confirm the recce squad's deployment and thus denied men were in Baluchistan. When shit hit the fan in the papers back home the higher ups just played dumb and passed this dumbness on like a virus.
That was three long weeks ago and Ben was looking forward to seeing Chris and having a look at Chris's thesis. It had been awhile but he sure as hell missed his best friend.
****************************
Part 3 Soon
|
Submitted by:
unreal
view profile
|