Before you read this story, I will tell you a little bit of a background. My brother and cousin are both over in Afghanistan. My cousin is a private and my brother is a Master Corporal. At the moment they are both in the same chain of command.
I did grow up in a military family, my father being an engineer for the Canadian military. I decided to write this to give a bit of an insight into what the coalition forces are going through, so if you have any political views against the actions in Afghanistan, I would rather not hear them.
-Ti-girl
"Sir?"
Two star Admiral AJ Chegwidden shook his head. "Mac, I'm sorry. Those are the orders. Afghanistan. The coalition forces need another translator and someone with a legal background. Things are getting hairy over there. The Brits lost their equivalent to two JAG officers and a translator late yesterday, and the Canadians don't have anyone fluent in Farsi. Actually, the Canadians are having a bit of an…unique situation." He folded his hands on his desk and looked at his chief of staff with a soft and apologetic smile. She had come into her own at JAG, she had relaxed…somewhat. And now he saw the hard headed jarhead that he had noticed when they were first introduced.
"Unique situation?"
Sighing, AJ continued. "Their top JAG lawyer was injured…and the only person that seems to be able to speak more than English or French…is a Master Corporal…who JUST got promoted. And is 22 years old." A small smiled played on his lips. "He has offered to 'deal with the language crap' when needed. He apparently speaks Dari, Uzbek, Pashto, Turkmen and most of the coalition languages. But, he's not an interpreter or a lawyer. He's a front line soldier who's already earned himself a bronze star and the star of military valour, but, according to the powers that be over there, he's all they've got."
"I'm going to be dealing with a grunt, sir?" Mac spat out.
A chuckle escaped from AJ. "Apparently he said the same thing about you Mac, except it was more along the lines of 'I'm going to be working with a legal weenie?'" His smile faded. "Mac. Right now Afghanistan is more dangerous than Iraq. Insurgents are popping up left, right and centre. I'm not happy about it…"
Mac finished his sentence. "But when the Corps call, I respond. Sir, I understand." Her face was hard with what AJ could only decipher as determination with a fleck of fear. "Sir, do you know anything about this Master Corporal?"
The Admiral pulled a file off the top of his desk and opened it. "Master Corporal Sean Christopher. Age 22. Grew up in a Military family. His father is retired Lieutenant General Thom Christopher, who was one of the leading officers in Bosnia, he won the star of courage and the cross of valour. Master Corporal Christopher is on his second tour of duty in Afghanistan. He saved his coalition troop from an insurgent attack. They were on a night watch and were ambushed by 40 or 50 insurgents. Master Corporal Christopher, though under intense rocket-propelled grenade, machine gun and small arms fire, exited a light armoured vehicle and manned the pintle-mounted machine gun. In spite of being completely exposed to enemy fire, Master Corporal Christopher laid down such a volume of suppressive fire that he forced the enemy to withdraw." He put the file down and rubbed his temples.
The face of his officer never changed or flinched. She makes the corps proud. He thought to himself. "Your flight leaves tomorrow at 0700 out of Andrews." He passed her the file. "Here. In case you want to read up on Master Corporal Christopher." His face softened. He really did think of the young Marine Colonel as a daughter and it tore him apart to have to send her on another dangerous mission.
"Thank you sir." She stood up and grabbed the file off the desk.
"And Mac?"
"Yes sir?"
"Be damned sure you're careful out there. I don't want Rabb resigning...again." He said with a small and tired smile.
"Aye-aye sir." Her heels echoed out of the room, down the short hallway, a soft clicking against the tiled floor. She shut her office door and threw the file on the pile already on her desk. All the memories from her previous tours in Afghanistan and Iraq flooded back, not to mention the always present nightmares of Paraguay.
A soft knock on her door brought her out of her daze. Harm stuck his head in the door and gave her a soft smile. "So, where are you off to now?" He asked, motioning to the file
"Afghanistan." She shrugged. "They need a translator and a lawyer for the coalition troops. Right now they're down to a 22 year old Canadian Master Corporal who is doing all the translating."
He closed the door and sat down across from her. "A grunt? Sure he's bilingual. English and profanity." A forced smile was plastered on his face. "When do you leave?"
"At 0700 tomorrow. I need to finish up my files here...and then..." Her voice trailed off.
"Let me make you supper tonight Mac." Harm said softly, reaching out and placing his hand on hers. "You can pack and I'll cook." He smiled. "And if you don't accept, I'm making it an order."
Mac placed her head in her hand and looked up at Harm who was still smiling. "You're going to do it anyway. So okay. 1800? My place?"
"It's a date " He flashed her a grin.
"Not it's not." She replied looking down at Christopher's file. "But I'll see you at 1800."
"It smells great." Mac looked down at the plate of pasta in front of her and smiled at Harm. "Thanks for this, you know you didn't have to."
"But I wanted to." He replied giving her a shy half smile. "So, tell me about this Master Corporal you're working with."
The high-pitched squeak of her fork against the black china was the only sound in the room. "From what I hear, he's young, brash, impulsive and cocky." She pushed a piece of pasta across the plate and frowned.
"Mac?"
She kept pushing the piece of pasta across her plate, leaving tomato streaks. "Harm, promise me one thing." Meeting his eyes she waited until he nodded. "Don't do anything stupid. No matter what happens over there...promise me. You won't do anything stupid."
Harm nodded. "I won't do anything stupid. As long as you make sure you come back…"
"H-aaaaaaaa-rm."
His blue eyes met her brown ones. "I promise. As long as you stay safe out there Marine." He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. The air was thick and heavy with electricity and tension.
The copper taste of blood was thick in Mac's mouth when she realised that she had bitten her lip so hard it was bleeding. "Harm, I can't. Not now…I've got to get to packing."
Pain was hidden behind his stoic face. "Yeah, you get to packing. I'll do the dishes."
"You don't have to."
Harm just smiled. He could have easily told her the truth, that the reason why he was going to stay wasn't that he didn't want to leave her with all of the dishes, but because he didn't want to leave. At all.
Mac was a horrible flyer. You would think that after all of her travels she would be better at it. But she wasn't. The chopper set down on the hot tarmac at the Kandahar airfield. A young coalition soldier stood at attention as she exited.
"Colonel Mackenzie? I'm Sub-Lieutenant Marc-Antoine Deslauriers." A young man stood at attention before giving her a small smile. "Come follow me please." His English was thickly accented and she nodded and followed the young Lieutenant. Once they were clear of the tarmac, Mac took off her helmet and shook her hair.
"I'm supposed to meet with Major-General Stuart."
The lieutenant nodded. "Yes Ma'am. Right this way Ma'am. S'il vous plait, I'll take your bag." He reached out and grabbed her bag and briefcase. "Major-Géneral Stuart is just over this way Ma'am." They walked swiftly to a few makeshift town. Plywood walls and roofs as far as the eye could see.
"We are here Ma'am." Lieutenant Deslauriers said with a curt nod and a knock on the door. He waited for the appropriate response before opening the door.
Major-General Stuart was a small man, his face tanned and hard from his months of service in Afghanistan. He was barely eye-to-eye with Mac, short and stocky, his hair cropped close to his head, his dark eyes wrinkled and worn.
"Colonel Mackenzie." He gave her a firm handshake, one that let her know that he was all business. "It's nice to meet you Colonel. You have come with the highest praise from Admiral Chegwidden and the SecNav."
"Thank you sir. I look forward to working with you and the coalition troops." Her posture was stiff, her eyes straight-ahead and hard. General Stuart liked the female marine, which was saying something. Coming from the Canadian Armed forces he grew up with a strong dislike of the American forces. They were arrogant, loud and usually more poorly trained than the Canadian forces. But this Marine, she held herself with a confidence that made it be known that she was to be respected.
"We look forward to working with you as well Colonel Mackenzie. I will introduce you to…well…I shouldn't say your partner…but…your partner." A smile crossed his lips and a deep laugh rose from his chest. "I'm sure he's…different than your other partner. He's a good kid…but a brash, arrogant, impulsive kid."
Mac gave a short laugh. "Sounds exactly like my partner sir, except my partner is pushing 40."
"Then you'll get along great with Master Corporal Christopher." He looked at the Lieutenant who was standing at attention in the corner. "Lieutenant…if Master Corporal Christopher is on the rink, get his sorry tail into the barracks, ASAP. And you know he is at the rink."
"Aye sir."
The lieutenant nodded and took off at a quick trot outside.
"Rink sir?"
"We have a street hockey rink. Whenever Master Corporal Christopher isn't out on patrol or 'speaking Afghani' as he likes to put it, he's on the rink. We have to shut off the lights to get his tail off of it." He held the door open for Mac and waited for her to exit. "I apologize in advance Colonel, we're short on female housing at the moment, but we do have an opening with the Master Corporal."
"Pardon sir?"
"It's a semi private room Colonel." They stopped in front of one of the makeshift barracks. "Here comes the Master Corporal now."
Master Corporal Christopher came walking quickly towards them, his jacket around his waist, his tan tshirt soaked in sweat. He towered over both Mac and the General. There was something intimidating about the Master Corporal. Maybe it was his size, he probably had 2 or 3 inches on Harm and probably 50 lbs. Maybe it was the way he stood, stiffer and straighter than any Marine or Naval officer she had ever seen. Maybe it was everything combined. His dark hair was cut short, not shaved, but still short enough to be within regulations. There was something about his dark eyes, the way they stared straight ahead, young and naive, yet there was something that screamed I have seen death. He extended his hand and gave her small smile.
"Welcome to Afghanistan, Ma'am." His voice was soft, and quiet, especially for a man of that size. Dirt and sweat caked his baby face, freckles hiding underneath. "I look forward to working with you."
Her eyes searched the surroundings. "So do I Master Corporal."