Читать книгу When Dead Shadows Live - Don Boshard - Страница 7

Braydon was lost in the upheaval of his mind. Here, in Heaven knew where, his family dead and he was lost. The unknown pain dulled his senses. Spending two days alone in this hell hole only multiplied the desire to go and straighten out his life. His prison was tolerable but unacceptable. Probing the cell, he was planning his escape from an inescapable vault, but that didn’t inhibit him from planning.

The big man walked into his room, or cell, and beckoned for Braydon to set in the only chair in the apartment. “First let me say, this whole thing is a convoluted cesspool filled with puzzle pieces which we can’t put together, yet. There were three other attacks besides your parents, one and two took down two power towers in the grid going to LA. The city is completely disabled and people are going nuts. Second, which appears to be related to the others, a house in Baker California was blown to bits and the explosives have the same foot prints as did the one on your parents’ home and the same with the power towers. We have no idea what is going on or who is behind this but we will. You will not be involved in this investigation at all. The FBI and Home Land Security are handling it.”

He looked Butch squarely in the eyes, “It’s time for you to know what is going on and where the pieces fit in the puzzle of your life, or should I say your future life. I am offering you the possibility to join us! You will not get all the details now if you decide to. National Interest, you understand, but a bit by bit narration as the parts are instilled. Do you understand? We are a specific group of people trained and set aside for special details for the US Special Operations Command. Do you know what UGESTAPOOCOM is?” Braydon shook his head. “This is a group formed under the DOD (Department of Defense) in 1987 and with the authorization of the President and Secretary of Defense to make certain of the readiness of all Special Forces. My name is Captain Millard the Captain is honorary since I am no long in the service. My given name is Jacob. We’re a clandestine operation funded by the Army Intelligence and the Department of Homeland Security and coordinate with the DOD. In other words, we don’t exist. Our acronym is AIHS. There are 11 of us in AIHS and you would make 12, all retired from the Rangers, Marines and special ops, and you can only be single and retired because we were asked to take many chances. This group would be the end of a family, the strain would be to much. Only the best of the best qualify. Two of our members are under 25 the others, like me, are really old, 25 to 40 years of age, oldies but goodies.”

Astounded by the lead off comments, Braydon was blown back into his chair. He had not expected this, after all, his life was his to live not for others to determine or that’s what it used to be but what direction his future would be was not his any longer, and it didn’t set well with him. His expression of surprise and rock hard feeling about the big man were telling by his expression.

“I can tell by your expression this is more than shocking, its life changing. Of course we can’t force you into the next step but it is for your safety and future. Your decision will be final and there will be no turning around, your future will be cast and the decision will be clouds of unknown until you decide and pass the tests, then it will be explained. For now your decision will be the abyss of lack of understanding and knowledge. Now I’ll give you all of two hours to decide. If you decide against this you will be provide new identity and a future in some other part of the US.” With that he turned and was gone.

Braydon’s brain was a cloud of dust swirling in the desert. How could he make a decision on anything without information, it was inconceivable they would as anyone to do that.

He thought about his parents and that he precipitated their deaths. Sorrowful feelings brought him to thinking that crying may be good for him, but he forced the tears from seeping from the edge of his eyes. His parents had made him what he was. They were the biggest part of him and now they were gone.

Hours past as months and finally the big man came back.

Braydon looked up at Jacob with new understanding and said to the big man, “When I grow up I would like to be just like you.” He was trying to bring some humor to the situation.

“You should know we don’t recruit just anyone, especially outside people. To even be considered is an honor and a trial. There is always too much of a risk with the unknowns, but after seeing what you did and how you did it the whole AIHS voted to give you a go, if you would like to. Understand that we have tried recruiting like this a couple of times and no one has crossed the bar. So you understand, it will be six months of training. Not just training but Seal training, and there is nothing harder. You will be facing a failure rate of 90%. If you survive it, you will be the proverbial lean mean fighting machine. Then you will have three months of training with yours truly at the farm. I will look forward to being sweet, loveable and charming with you.” For the first time since they had met, Jacob showed a crackling smile.

“Understand this, you will never be able to leave this life and be yourself again which ever direction you chose. Whoever these people are, will hunt you down and kill you if we don’t hide you one way or the other. It doesn’t matter about your mountain skills, these are professionals and they want you dead. Right now you are dead, one of the reasons we are offering this arrangement to you. Like the rest of us, you will be a Shadow creeping through the night. I’ll give you time to think.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Braydon responded. “Since I’m already dead I might as well make good use of it and help my country. I’ll take the offer, and then when I have finished and that includes your sweet, lovable training; I will pay those bastards back for my family.”

Jacob’s grim face let Braydon know that was the wrong direction, “Vengeance will get you killed Braydon. The training, I hope, will take that out of you and replace it with solid, swift knowledge and decisive action without the power of anger pulling you into the wrong gutter, kind of like a Jedi warrior, discipline is everything. But the decision has to be yours and revenge will not get you on the team.”

You could have sliced the silence with a knife. Braydon’s confusion was evident in the crevices in his brow. The steely silence of the desert hills stole over him. His breathing became that of the soft desert wind and his mind ran with the wolf and coyote. He blended with nature again and was committed to succeed. Revenge could not be his goal but it would be stowed in the annuals of his mind.

“I still want to do it. Not for vengeance but for what purpose I don’t know since I don’t really know who or what you are, but if it will benefit my country I am for it.

The big man smiled again and said. “Get some sleep; you’re on the road at 0500, remember this is all confidential and can’t be revealed, ever to anyone.” Then he shut the door and left Braydon to his thoughts.

He didn’t have time to sleep or unwind; expectations and sorrow consumed his thoughts and nightmares haunted him. At 0500 there was a knock on the door and waiting was a Corporal with a jeep close by. Braydon was packed and ready to go.

“Are we going to drive to San Diego?”

“No Sir, we have transportation ready.” The Corporal responded.

It was a short helicopter ride from Las Vegas to Coronado Island training facility. His escorts were two hulks of human beef that sat on both sides of him. This still felt like jail, or maybe they were making certain he got there. “I don’t know why I need these Brute’s, I am going to finish this training and find who murdered my parent’s.” his thoughts sank into the quick sand.

It was a picture perfect landing, not even a bounce as they put down at the Naval Training Facility just outside San Diego. The door opened and the two body guards climbed out and held a protective position. Braydon felt like with this special treatment he might be having an honor guards waiting instead of body guards.. A bulldog faced Sergeant was the only greeting party.

“Braydon, this is Sargent Gomez. He will be your personal chaperon. Now we turn your 175 lbs. over to him. Sargent here is your man, and good luck.” The man who appeared to be the leader said and then they all shook hands and body guards climbed back aboard the chopper as Braydon watched them take off into the Eastern sky. Sargent Gomez looked Braydon up and down and just shook his head.

Braydon reached out to shake Gomez’s hand but all he got was a withering glare. “I am not here to be your friend or your mother and you will hate me more than the devil himself. I will be hell frozen over before we’re done. And remember, your best day here will be yesterday!” with that he turned, knowing that Braydon had better follow.

They went to the supply depot where Braydon was turned over to a supply corporal. The outfits were not that bad. He had had worse especially his camping gear.

As soon as his gear was presented a Private took him by the elbow and maneuvered him out the door and to the barracks.

Sargent Gomez was there waiting for him,” You’re in class 762 and your ass is mine for the next six months, if you make it that long.” He lead to the fifth barrack and escorted him in, “This is your home for that time, if you make it.” There was a heavy emphasis on MAKE IT. “We have a dropout rate of close to 90% and that’s the best.” There was no smile, no smirk, just a hostile glare. “The third bunk is yours. You have a foot locker for you gear. A DI will be by to attend to your needs,” he smiled, “if you believe that I’ve got a bridge to sell you. The DI’s are pure evil. The rest of your group is training. That’s something to really look forward to. You’re the first candidate to start four days into the training. This should be a lot of fun for you. Oh, and one more thing, I want your firm commitment that you will try your very best, even though that won’t be good enough, but let’s pretend it will.” There was a hint of a smile but that vanished in a flash. It then looked more like a snarl then a smile. “If your group is still alive they’ll be back in four or five hours and ready to party.” Then he did smile, “Get setup,” and left Braydon to his thoughts.

Braydon looked at his watch, it was four in the afternoon and the rest of the trainees would not be back for four or five hours?

“What have I gotten into?” Then he sunk on his bunk.

At 20:12 ten tired and dirty men stumbled into the barracks and collapsed on their bunks. They had not notice Braydon. “That was worst day of my life” one of the young men uttered.

“Remember what Sargent said, yesterday will have been the best day of your life, if we live.” the remark came across the aisle, something Braydon had already heard.

Then the rookie across the aisle noticed Braydon, “More raw meat,” he uttered and pointed to Braydon. “What did we do to deserve this prune and at this late date?”

Compared to his mates he was a prune. They buffed up fast and the determination was execrating from their expressions.

“Tell us about you.” The one, who seemed to be the leader, chastened him. “What’s your name, where you are from and why did a prune like you get here at this late date.”

Telling them about the reason he was here was impossible. He had to think of something fast. “There is a new program where under privileged men can come here and if they survive the six months we have our college paid and serve in the military for two years more. I’m the first trial member and you are lucky to have me. I may look skinny but I can handle myself. Just give me a chance.”

Skeptics abounded in the group. “I’m from a little town in Arizona call Beaver Dam, a thriving metropolis of 300 people, on the Utah Boarder.”

A cannon ball of a human being walked over to him, reached out his hand. “Shake!” he said. He was a few inches shorter than Braydon and had to look up at him. He wore the normal Marine haircut; his brown hair was visible though shorter than normal. He had mischievous brown eyes and a smile from ear to ear.

That was the first kind gesture Braydon had received since he arrived here. He reached out and took the burly hand. Suddenly he was caught in a vise. He hadn’t felt anything that strong since his car had fallen off the jack onto his hand. Setting his jaw he applied a gorilla grip of his own. The primeval struggle had begun.

Braydon could see the expectation in all their eyes, knowing that Braydon was going to break and they would have a good laugh at his expense. They would have to wait longer because he was not going to give in. They could not understand what a 6 ‘4” bag of bones was doing here in the first place and they all knew that cannon ball was going to make him wish her weren’t

Muscle verses sinew and neither one was going to say enough. After ten minutes of continual jackhammering, the man looked up at Braydon and said. “You’re in. My name is Fredrick but everyone just calls me.”

Braydon interrupted, “I know, Fred.”

“No! That’s what it should have been, but they call me Rick. Don’t ask me why.”

“I’m Braydon. You can call me Butch. Braydon sounds like a donkey braying and in school they would bray rather than use my name. Now you know the terrible truth” they all burst out laughing.

“Ok Butch, you are a few days behind and have a lot of catching up to do. Which means that even tomorrow will be a bad day, you will ache so badly. Let me introduce the rest of this ragged bunch of misfits.”

“This is Zeto Appolo. He thinks he is the “Don” of this group, but he can’t even blow his nose.” Zeto was every bit Italian, dark hair, dark eyes and everyone laughed again. Like Rick, he was well built and looked like a bull. The only thing missing were the horns. His grip was not as strong as Rick’s but strong enough.

“That one on the end bunk is Trevor Torgerson. We haven’t got a nick name for him yet, but something will come to us. Maybe TNT” Trevor waved. Again he looked like a stud,” about average height, green eyes and red hair, he could have been Irish. “He’s from Washington and has webbed feet.”

”That other redhead on the bunk next to Trevor is Paul Cajun. We call his Lucy. Can’t guess way can you why?” Paul was a lot like Trevor, not of excessive build but showing strength. He had been working out. His green eyes were darker that Trevor’s and he just flipped Rick the bird.

“Across from him is Albert Finch. Yes, we do call him Al. He would probably kill us if we use another name.” Albert was bigger than Rick and taller than Braydon.” His broad smile flashed through his dark skin reflecting in his brown eyes and his short black hair looked like cut off bristle brush.

“Howdy” he said. Braydon waved at him.

”If you can’t tell, he’s from Georgia.” His grin permeated the room.

“Teddy,” waved at him from across the room, “he’s our hero, broke the record on the obstacle course. He’s from Hawaii. I can’t say his name.” He had a partial Polynesian build, but trimmer and panther muscles, dark hair what little there was of it. Being a little of six foot tall and another powerful build. Braydon had never seen a bald Polynesian.

“Over here we have Jenkins. That’s his last name cuz he won’t tell us his surname. I think its Alice.” He flipped Rick the bird. “Needless to say he has no couth.” Jenkins was as tall at Braydon but had muscles on top of muscles. Hercules had nothing on him and his short blond hair only lent to his strong features.

“This poor excuse for a human being is Wally. He’s from Green bay and I hate the Parkers.” Wally followed suit with Jenkins. “Another un-couth Bastard. His real name is Wilbur Willingham. Now you see why the Wally.” Average height and a strong build, he and Trevor could have been twins accept Wally was white blond and Trevor was black with no hair.

“A few clues and advice about how we do things here. While you’re training you don’t say a word to any DI or you get us all in trouble. Do exactly what your told and don’t ask questions. If you’re dying just die and get it over with. And finally, if you hear stern words and the DI cusses you out, don’t cry.” Everyone burst out laughing. “We will do what we can to help you but we hardly survive, especially since you’re getting a late start.”

“I really appreciate it. You have been great. Now, just as soon as the bones in my hand meld I will be able to shake hands again.” Another burst of laughter.

“Mess call, “ Wally yelled and they all ran to the mess hall. It was a short line and the food was splashed into their trays. It wasn’t good, but it was feeling.

They finished and headed back to the bunkhouse. “Turn in because bugles are early and you can’t sleep in.” Lights out was thirty minutes later.

Bugles blasted the morning to awaken. Braydon jerked flopped out of bed. As if he had been able to sleep. 0500 is the devils time and no one should have to get up at this hour. The squad was already moving, dressed and ready to be tormented again today. Braydon had to move faster than this hour. His mind did want to cooperate, but all the others were dressed a ready to go.

“Rush it Butch or you’ll miss chow. This is better chow then last night since you get year old eggs and bacon that was dug up the turn of the century. It usually tastes ok if you don’t mind the sandy grit in your mouth and the runs.” They all laughed willingly as Rick led the way.

It was a jog to the mess hall and the lines had already formed. There was little chatter as each rookie filed into their place in line dirt eaters and the babies. He noticed an attractive redhead Sargent standing at the head of the line directing traffic. He could only stare at her. Who would have thought that such a beauty was in the military or where ever it was that they were.

He moved closer and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Wally tapped him, “don’t stare too hard. She’s a DI and mean as hell. If she notices you noticing her, you might as well go now and get a casket, you’ll be dead after chow!”

Before he could turn away the daggers arrived. Braydon knew he was found out, covered his tracks by looking forward to the chow bar. He was only ten men from her and he could feel the approach of death.

Death arrived, “What are you looking at soldier?”

“Well Staff Sargent, I’ve never seen that many strips on a blouse before. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.”

“Well soldier, I wouldn’t stare if I were you, you’ll being seeing more of these stripes and a few stars as you muck though the mud and face the hell of the obstacle course. Now move it!” the name tag showed Mary Taggart.

Braydon couldn’t believe such a harsh, terrifying voice from this petite read head. All he could think of was his world was going the wrong direction and it was straight down.

‘You lucky bastard.” Wally pronounced.

“Lucky. How do you figure that? I now have an angel with horns going to bury me.”

“You’ll probably die or get sent home. Of course it will be in a box but that’s at least a place to rest, but what a way to go.” Wally whispered.

No one laughed because Sargent Angle/Devil was watching.

“The last time that happened, she had the rookie yanked from line and put on the obstacle course with a weighted pack, alone, and Sargent angel was there, attending his death, and prodding him on. You talk about Marine vocabulary, she can be withering. He didn’t make it.” Teddy whispered and hide his face from being noticed.

“Isn’t that against some law or something?” Butch asked.

They just all smiled, not daring to laugh out loud, even though they wanted to. “She is the law and don’t forget it and above all remember to call her Staff Sargent. What she says goes and the guidelines are written off her words.”

The rest of breakfast was devoured silently. There were others talking around them. “Why do we have to be the whispering squad and everyone else gets to talk?”

“Because of you.”

“Me! What have I done and if it’s me, why do the rest of you have to suffer?”

“All the rookie squad’s got to draw straws for you and we lost.”

Braydon looked away from the others as volcanic anger was rising. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Rick reached over and his hand latched onto Braydon. “That was a little harsh and we really want to help you but we’re afraid of what we are in for. Someone is pulling some powerful strings and you have been fed to the tiger, of which you have already had the pleasure to meet. The good thing is Sargent Gomez briefed us on what we were in for and this was not to be a normal training. We know that we are condensing our last eight months of training into six months of hell.”

“Why would you do that?”

“There are three reasons. One, we are stupid. Two, we want out of here as soon as possible and three, we may even like you. The last one is going to be the hardest to accomplish since we don’t like anyone, well maybe ourselves.” Everyone chocked down the blast of laughter that wanted to erupt from them, but there were smiles all around.

“I don’t know what to say. This is the most rewarding and emotional event of my life. It is right up with the day the skunk sprayed me and I bathed in tomato juice for a full day. I smell it still. It just chocks me up.” Teddy added.

“But then again it could be your deodorant.” Rick injected. No one could help it now and they blasted laughter across the room. Everyone turned and looked at them. Braydon couldn’t tell if they were in a pit of rattle snakes and he was the prey or if everyone wanted to laugh with them. Sargent angel turned, got up and walked over to them.

“Is there something funny you want to include me in?”

Braydon started right out, “No Staff Sargent, I was just telling the guys about where I lived. It was kind of a stinky area.” They all burst out laughing again, even though the attempt to restrain brought tears to their eyes.

“This is a silent table. Do you know what silence means?” Her expressive glare set the table in the proper prospective.

“Yes Staff Sargent,” Braydon said. “But it just hit our funny bones and we couldn’t help but laugh. It was my fault and I apologize.”

“That’s nice of you Mister Delany. I’m sure you squad appreciates it. Meet me on the parade ground in fifteen minutes and don’t be late! “She marched back to her table and sat down, not particularly gracefully.

His new found friends just looked at him, “been nice knowing you Butch” Rick responded, but Braydon could see them straining not to smile.

He could only hope that Sargent Mary Taggart had a sense of humor. She didn’t! She was waiting on the obstacle course waiting for him and ready to dig his grave.

If there was a hell Braydon had found it! Sargent Angel grew horns to hold up her halo. Smirk would be a nice call for the face she was wearing.

“Mr., Delany, here is your pack containing fifty lbs. of gear. I am giving you one more gift, you weapon which will become an appendage.” There wasn’t a hint of a smile now. “I know this will be no problem for you, you’re such a stud. Here’s how it goes, you will take one lap through the obstacle course, at a rapid pace, then back over the wall twice and finish with a ten mile run. Do I make myself clear Mr. Delany?”

His friends looked on knowing this was the end of Butch.

“Yes Staff Sargent, I’m ready.”

“Go!”

Braydon didn’t have time to think only to react throwing on the back pack and grabbing the rifle he was cruising through the obstacle course. Then the wall loomed if front of him. He grabbed the rope, moving hand over hand and feet pushing upward, he moved rapidly to the top. He had done harder things when he went rock climbing with all his gear. His pace grew faster and faster. His breath was faltering a bit no more than when he chased the jack rabbits through the desert with its rocks and bushes and hills. Of course he never caught one but he loved to try. Besides that, he didn’t know what he would do if he caught one.

When he came to the part where he had to crawl on his stomach through mud with the rope netting above him, he did slow down. This was something he had not encountered before. Launching forward he felt the mud in his face and slurp down his neck to his belly. Unpleasant was an understatement but determination prodded him along. Things were going fairly smoothly when he heard a machine gun rattle. Of course he had heard about live ammunition fired over trainee’s heads. He raised his head to look and caught his helmet on one of the ropes, just missing ripping off his helmet and his head. He knew that the angel must have thought how stupid he was, raising his head with live fire spiting overhead. It didn’t slow him down; what’s a little strained neck with bullets blazing overhead. It was all in a day’s work, he just kept going.

Running the last ten miles was a breeze. He had run up and down the hills around Beaver Dam all of his life and he wasn’t even breathing that hard when he returned to the Sargent. He pretended to be winded so he wouldn’t look like he was showing off and have to do it again.

“Nice time Mr. Delany. I’m pleased to see you sweating up a storm and breathing heavy. I trust I won’t be hearing any more sounds from the silent table!” It wasn’t a question.

“No Staff Sargent you won’t.” she walked away.

Day one ended with another ten mile run and a lot of exercises. Sargent Angel was not vulturine over him. Sargent Gomez did a fine job of replacing her. Gomez tracked his every action and critiqued it and logged it. He was his personal guardian and why he got such special treatment was unknown to Braydon. It was almost like he had a babysitter only with a DI mentality.

“Ok ladies, you’re done for the day. Now shower down so you don’t drive everyone out of the mess hall then chow down. Butch, you stay here, we need to talk.”

Braydon stood like a drained goat skin. He was tired, sweaty, and ready to eat.

This time the others didn’t reminisce about him they just sprinted for the shower. Braydon could forge for himself.

Braydon exhaled and was ready to head for his bunk. Giving the Sargent Angel another shot at him was not what he needed or wanted, not that he didn’t want to see her again. Well he wanted to see her but not her stripes.

“Well Butch, you survived in good style. I think Staff Sargent Mary Taggart was impressed. In fact we all were. How did you get in such great shape?”

“Well, I told you how I grew up with the wolf and the bear. Of course when I had to defend myself from my cousins, the bear I had to learn to be tough and strong because lifting those eight hundred pound bear is a chore. I figure that had to be it. You can’t believe how hard it is to carry a couple of bear a mile.” He looked at the gloomy expressions on Gomez’s face, he held his breath as long as he could then burst out laughing, not wanting to show frivolity but to no avail.

“Alright, get out of here.” Gomez ordered.

He reached the Bunk as his friends were getting dressed.

“Great job Butch.” Rick said. Grins all around but there was a get even expressions on their faces. As one they all tackled Braydon, hauled him into the latrine and threatened to drown him in one of the toilets. “This is what happens when you get us all in trouble.” They let him fall hard to the floor and then they all collapsed around him unable to control laughter. With sides splitting they carried Braydon to his bunk with the emphasis on laying him gently on the bed. But to his surprise the wood floor greeted him instead of the soft bed. He would have a head ache for a few days but it was even funny to him.

The volcano erupted and they rolled on the ground, unable to control the laughter. Then Gomez walked through the door, “A problem here?” he asked.

“No Sargent, it was just a hazing of our new recruit. He did great today.” Fred said holding his sides.

“That’s right; he did but let’s keep the noise down. The Captain will hear you and you’ll all be worse than hazed.”

“Thank you Sargent.” They said in unison.

“Butch, you have had an eventful day. Pissed off a Staff Sargent, who none of us wants to wake up on the wrong side of the bed with, although sharing the bed might be alright, caught the attention of everyone with your antics. But I must admit, other than being on one person’s shit list you had a great day on the obstacle course, probably setting the best time we have had in years. Then when you got back, you faked being completely done in. You need to remember, your nemesis has been at this for fifteen years, gone through hundreds of recruits. She knows the baby bottle from the wine bottle. So here is some advice. Shut up, go hard and fast, don’t question her and don’t say a thing to her. Oh, you should also know she has the highest reject ratio in the service. You either cut it or you go. No middle of the road. Do you understand?” Gomez emphases.

“Yes Sargent. Shut up, put up; I mean as far as getting the job done. I should also be sweet, lovable and charming. Will that do it Sergent.”

“I think you can leave that part out. Remember, she’ll chew you up and spit you out then stomp on you with her cleated boots. Don’t play around, and don’t be a smart ass. Now hit the shower.”

There was no hesitation. He showered and ran for chow. That’s all he had on his mind right now. It felt like years since he had eaten.

Boot camp was now thirty days old. Braydon had survived this long even with the angel of death looming over him all day every day. She didn’t leave room for Gomez to do much. He had put on five lbs. of pure muscle. Now, and at a Mr. America l75 lbs. he was starting to feel the extra strength. Running was a pleasure, though he told no one, he was over the barricade in record time and no more jumping when he crawled through the netting with the bullets rocketing overhead. One close call was enough and besides that, his mom had raised any dummy.

Braydon actually felt that Sergeant Angel was beginning to like him although she would never admit it and he wasn’t going to push his luck. Once in a while she would come to their table and even talk to them, be it short and to the point, but never the less there were a few kind words. He even felt she smiled at him once. Then again, it was probably a snarl.

Evenings were passed playing cards or telling stories, there were not many things to do. Braydon could only listen to the others when it came to jokes and girls. Beaver Dam was not what you would call girl heaven. For every one girl there were five guys so his chance of getting a date were slim to none and none being the prevalent answer. You could always take a goat to the dance, however. He learned a lot from the stories and jokes but he was ready for the real thing, he wanted romance. At least he thought he did but since he had never experienced, how would he know.

Next weekend was two night leave. There were no exercises, running, getting shot at, just fun and frivolity. San Diego offered all kinds of night life ripe for those ready to go after it.

The bus left at 0:800 and there was no way the team was going to miss it. They were there a half hour early and so got the best seats. Who would have thought that a 48 hour pass would bring so much happiness, at least to his mind it would.

The bus let them off next to Denny’s where they had breakfast and a total bill was $95.00 for the nine of them and that included several extra meals, including the tip to the semi cute waitress. They were not overly stuffed and would make it until lunch.

A walk along the water front would work off a good portion of the breakfast. There was very little open at this time so Balboa Park here they come. It was a little walk but nothing to their daily drudgery. The old shops, museums, and displays were all new to them. It wasn’t like they could buy anything, just look. The excitement didn’t last long, no money no fun. It was lunch time anyway!

They took a longer route back to the wharf but didn’t get there. They couldn’t afford sea food and drink all night. “Ok guys, we don’t have enough dough to eat sea food and drink. So what will it be?”

Braydon went for food the others, without hesitation, went for the drinks. Braydon had never drank before and wasn’t sure what he was in for but he wasn’t going to look like sniveling wimp. There has to be a first time for everything.

You can get a lot at MacDonald’s for $40.00 value meals. That blooded their stomachs to breaking. They got their fill so they took up five tables and sat there. It was only 14:00, now the tough decision, when and where to start the night life.

Zeto was not a slow thinker, “I vote we start on 5^th Ave. There are four or five nice bars there and we could let them have the benefit of our worldly knowledge and our charm.”

“Who cares about knowledge? Volumes what counts.” Trevor was right on, at least as far as the others were concerned.

“It’s decided, we crash 5^th Ave. We should be able to put most of the bars out of business by 0100 and then we can maybe, make it to the park and pass out.” All but one burst out laughing, all but Braydon. “Come on sad sack, it will be fun.” Braydon just nodded nervously.

“Butch, why are you so gloomy? You look like you’ve seen a troll or something. No, wait a minute, that’s what we ate at McDonald’s,” Fred’s grin creased his face from ear to ear.

Braydon was so embarrassed he turned seven shades of red and maybe more. “Guy’s, I’ve never had a drink, only Coke.” Albert responded.

The sunset dissolved into hysteria. “You’ve had nothing to drink but Coke, and how old are you? Did you know that’s un-American?”

Albert and Teddy had to sit on the curb and hold their sides while the others just split a gut leaning again the nearest building.

Finally the frivolity slips to snickers. “Ok big boy, we’ll take good care of you and not let you go past your legal consumption limit for someone the age of twelve. “ Jenkins offered. The silence didn’t last and they all began to laugh again.

“Ok you turds, enough. I can drink as much as you.”

Fred, holding his side took Braydon by the shoulder and said, “You shouldn’t be using those foul five letter words.” then they all broke up again.

Enough was enough, he started to walk away, but they all hurried to their feet and ran after him. “We’re sorry buddy, but it’s rare to find a virgin anymore.” They all wanted to laugh again but somehow they restrained themselves.

They hailed a taxi and all piled in, over the protest of the driver. He had the audacity to try and tell them, Marines, what they could or could not do. The odds were stacked against him literally stack and besides that it was only a short distance to 5^th Ave. They waffled themselves into the taxi and off they went.

It was fully a five minute drive when the cabbie pulled over to the curb and they all piled out. A two dollar tip was enough; after all it was only a few miles. The cabbie said nothing but sped off giving them a Caesar to Brutus look as the dagger pierced his heart.

“Ok, now what?” asked Fred.

“We recon the area and then plan our attack zone.” Zeto jumped in.

“Since this is a Democracy lets vote.” It was unanimous.

After an hour of recon they decided to start with Rockin Baja and work their way up the street to The Merk. That made at least five stops, which didn’t include the side streets. They all the bars were fairly nice and offered military discounts plus Wally had pulled off some discount coupons from the internet.

The Rockin Baja wasn’t the classiest place but it was nice. There was only one table large enough to accommodate the eleven of them and it was secured against the back wall, which was perfect for them.

A petite red head with freckles spotting her face came over, “what’ll it be boys?”

“Ten Buds and a Coke, for our friend from Beaver Dam, Arizona.”

Frivolity was on the explosion list when Braydon interjected, “Staff Sargent, make it all Buds.” He said with Sargent Mary Taggart in mind.

They all just grinned at him. They were going to be fun at Braydon’s expense, you could tell by their smiles.

Two hours and five beers later it was time to move on to La Puerta. Like the Rockin Baja it was nice but nothing out of sight. They again found a table large enough to house them.

“Butch, have you ever tried a Boiler Maker? Of course, you’ve never had a drink until tonight.” The grin seeped from ear to ear. Albert was setting him up.

“What’s a boiler maker?”

“It’s a mug of beer that you gulp down, non-stop and a chaser of whisky it’s a one gulp move it doesn’t give you time to think. Want to try one?”

Braydon knew he was being setup but this was his first party night. “Ok, let’s go for it.”

“Staff Sargent, we would like Boiler Makers around.” She just gave them a surprised look.

The drinks arrived; they raised their mugs and saluted the Marines and chugged down the beer then grabbed the whisky and slammed it down.

Braydon wasn’t sure what he had done but his guts were on fire and he coughed. There was no way he was going to let on that the drink had about killed him.

“Anyone want another?” Braydon was the first to say yes. He was not a pansy.

After that round he was not certain who, what, or where he was. The rest of the night blurred and each bar meshed in with the others. Noisily other Marines joined in and they must have been a brigade of Marines marching up and down 5^th. Some of them looked strangely identical to him, or were his eyes deceiving him. The end of the world was no were to be found. Blackness was his friend because all he could hear was the laughter of the others as they moved away like the tide. The gutter was his friend as he lay face down on the sidewalk.

He felt gentle arms pull him, trying to get him up off the sidewalk. He had never seen anyone so beautiful.” I’m in love,” he slurred.

“Private we better get you up and moving or the next beautiful face will be that of an MP.” The insistent pull finally jolted him into action and into a car.

“You’re gorgeous,” was the last thing he remembered saying as the world went black.