Copyright © 2019 James Russell Stoakes. All rights reserved.
https://JamesStoakes.com
Staff Sergeant Williams woke everyone with a shout. “Wake up my sleeping beauties!” he screamed from his wide-open mouth.
Dickson laughed to himself as he unassed from his bed, “It’s got to be a staff sergeant thing, his mouth is unnaturally large,” he thought to himself. He did it in a way that would not be noticed by the staff sergeant because the last thing Dickson wanted was to draw Staff Sergeant Williams’ wrath.
Staff Sergeant Williams always talked loudly, almost as if he was extremely hard of hearing, but it was just part of his act. Today, however, he was pissed off. “Has anyone seen corporal Unger!?” sergeant Williams asked in his annoyingly loud, yet clear baritone. He marched up and down between the two rows of cots in the tent before asking again. “Has anyone seen Corporal Unger since evening mess?”
Private Holden stood straight, “Sir! I did, Sir,” he said loudly.
Staff sergeant Williams marched right up to Holden, “And?” he said, “Where and when was that?”
“Sir, after mess, I saw him congregating with the specialists as they prepared for insertion, Sir,” Holden responded.
A cloud of anger washed across the staff sergeant’s face. “At ease, men,” he said and stormed from the room.
“I saw him,” one of the other men mimicked Holden. “You’re going to get your ass beat if Unger didn’t want anyone to know,” he said. “Don’t cross him.”
“Good advice,” Dickson agreed. “Do not cross Unger.”
The flap of the tent opened again, and the staff sergeant stuck his head in. “The specialists report the area is clear. We are a go for insertion at Oh-Seven hundred,” he announced. “Suit up, chow down, and meet up on the north side of the COP. Do not make me wait, ladies!”
A helo could be heard passing over the tent as they dressed. It was standard procedure to letterbomb the populace before moving in. The fact that a COP had been set up was all the proof Dickson needed that martial law was about to be declared. Nothing official had been said to the grunts yet, but they all knew or feared it was coming. Civilians could, understandably, be a handful when they felt their rights were being trampled. He knew this was going to be a long day, so he hurried to the chow hall to tank up and resupply his snacks.
Dickson arrived early at the rendezvous position, two others had arrived before him. Staff Sergeant Williams was standing at attention, waiting for everyone to arrive, and he gave a silent nod of approval to Dickson. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he expected. A line of civilian tow trucks was parked along the side of the road with anxious drivers inside. Two were already hooking up to vehicles in the road beyond Williams, and a couple military pay-loaders were waiting to move debris.
The two helos that had passed over the city were returning to their designated landing areas and idling down. Observation teams could be seen loading aboard and strapping in. More soldiers arrived and took a position in front of Staff Sergeant Williams.
“Our job today,” Staff Sergeant Willams began, “is to clear the main roadways and maintain law and order until the civilian authorities can manage on their own. Anyone hindering our progress is to be detained. Anyone who engages us with force is to be removed from the battlefield as quickly and efficiently as possible.” He could tell that not everyone understood. The blank stares he received were not comforting. “You are to return fire if fired upon,” he stated clearly. “Eliminate all deadly threats. Martial law is being declared as we speak, so move out!” he finished with a wave of his arm. The pay-loader fired up as soon as the staff sergeant began to move forward, and the soldiers spread out, forming a line.
Once they were past the tow trucks that were hooked to vehicles, they moved forward until the next obstacle was reached where they waited until either a tow truck or the pay-loader did their job. They watched the surrounding area for threats while the equipment workers did their jobs.
The two helos had revved up and passed by overhead. The speakers under them began repeating a recorded message over and over again, blaring it down upon the populace. “Martial law has been declared in this area. Constitutional rights have been suspended, and you are under military authority until peace and order are restored. A curfew has been ordered from sunset to sunrise. Violators will be detained indefinitely, without exception.”
Dickson was a soldier, and he knew how he felt about the message; it didn’t belong in America. He was actually surprised how well the public was taking it. They stayed out of the way and did as they were directed for the most part. Only a few people spoke up, but they backed down when they were gently warned that they would be detained if they interfered.
There were a few bodies on the street. The first one surprised the soldiers on point. “Body,” the man up front called. Before anyone could react, he called again. “Multiples!” he said. There were eight in a very small area, and they had been brutally beaten and or cut with knives. Some still held clubs in their hands where they died. The loader moved up close, and the bodies were thrown in the bucket for identification and disposal later.
Later in the day, Dickson came across the craziest display yet. He waved his commander over, and his commander, upon seeing his concern, reported it up the chain to Staff Sergeant Williams. Dickson and his commander, Sergeant Duffy, waited until the staff sergeant arrived in a Humvee.
“What the hell do we have here?” he yelled as he approached the display on the stairs to the townhouse in front of them.
Jarred could hear the military men approaching. There had not been a moving vehicle in the street for two days, and the quiet, after the explosions stopped, had been welcome. You could literally hear a woman’s scream from several blocks away.
Standing there naked, Jarred looked out the peephole, he could see two men admiring Jenny’s scarecrows. “Jenny, you got some splaining to do!” Jarred playfully yelled into the rooms behind him as he grabbed a bathrobe. He heard another vehicle screech to a halt in front of the home as he opened the door.
“What the hell do we have here?” a very loud uniformed man yelled up the stairway at Jarred.
Jarred pulled his bathrobe more tightly closed and tied the ropes before answering. “It looks like a couple of scarecrows, doesn’t it,” he said with a grin.
“I can see that, fucktard! How the blazing hell did they get there?” Staff Sergeant Williams bellowed louder than usual.
Jarred stuck a pinky finger in his ear and rubbed like it hurt. Flicking some wax off of the end of his finger, he returned his attention to the staff sergeant and stared at him for a moment before answering. Jenny, Tina, and Wendy took that moment to exit the building. There were a few hoots and hollers from the soldiers nearby. Jarred looked back and laughed; the girls were wearing bikini bottoms and short shirts that barely covered their breasts. “She did it,” Jarred said, pointing at Jenny. Jenny did a sexy finger wave to the boys in the street. One waved back.
“You’re telling me that a whisp of a woman like her, mounted these two assholes to posts in front of your home by herself?” Williams shouted. “What kind of an asshole do you think I am?”
Jarred pretended to be deep in thought.
“Don’t you dare answer that, retard,” Williams shouted. By the color of his face, Jarred was clearly pissing him off.
“You don’t think it was me, do you?” Jared said indicating his small physique. “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” he said and pointed at the ladies.
A few more hoots came from the street. Staff Sergeant Williams quickly turned his head to see who it was. Not finding anyone, he returned his gaze to Jarred. “Do you have any information as to who killed these men?” the staff sergeant asked in a more reasonable tone.
“I already told you, she did,” Jarred repeated. He wasn’t used to telling the truth. It really was liberating.
“That’s it!” Williams screamed. “Take him in for questioning!” Staff Sergeant Williams turned to leave.
“That doesn’t work for me,” Jarred said menacingly.
The staff sergeant turned around, not recognizing the voice, and not believing what the boy just said.
Jarred possessed him at that moment. “Cancel that order! Let this asshole stay and fuck the rest of his brains out with his girlfriends.” Jarred walked him back to his Humvee and sat him inside.
Jenny, Tina, and Wendy all waved as they went inside. Jarred released Williams once he was at the end of the street. The soldiers were already attending to the gruesome task of removing the two-day-old corpses from his fence. Jarred continued to watch until the bodies were free and deposited in the bucket loader. He quietly slipped inside and closed the door.
A smile spread across his face. In all the chaos, several hundred people had died. Yeah, some of them , almost a third, had been collateral damage and counted against him, but he was making progress. It just felt right, though, to create so much strife regardless of the cost to his personal goal. Besides, he thought as he slipped into the bed full of naked, demonic women, what was the hurry to return?
A small party had erupted in the back of the barracks. Several soldiers were laughing and drinking the night away when Dickson returned from his patrol. “What’s going on back here?” he asked when he could no longer contain his curiosity.
One of the privates looked up with wide eyes, “You haven’t heard?!” he slurred his words badly. “Fuck’n Unger is dead!” he announced loudly. Several cheers sounded at once.
“How?” Dickson asked in surprise.
“The story is, he went into the hot zone with the specialists last night but separated from them. Officially he got in a fight and somehow got his kneck broke,” the drunken soldier tried to explain between nips. “I only wish I could have watched that evil bastard die,” he said and took another deep drink. Tears welled up in the soldier’s eyes, and he quickly wiped them away with his sleeve.
Another soldier stood and raised a glass, “Here’s to Corporal Punishment, may he rot in hell where he belongs, and God bless the son of a bitch who took the initiative of killing him.”
Dickson was astonished by the hatred these men had for Unger. He knew there was something odd about the corporal, but there had to be more to the story. He wondered if it had anything to do with Unger’s trial and subsequent loss of rank. There were all kinds of rumors about his trial and the abnormal outcome. The crime he was accused of was kept silent, which caused speculation that he was protected somehow. No one dared ask publicly, it was all whispers and innuendo.
“Must have been one tough bastard to take out Unger,” Holden said from the next bunk.
Dickson nodded, “Must have been,” he agreed.