En Media Res
His skin was raw, his beard was thick and his body ached. Painkillers helped, but not all that much. There were just some pains that not even aspirin could fix. Alcohol maybe, but now was not the time for a few shots of whiskey. The best he could do now was try and ignore the pain and concentrate on the good things.
At least the recovery went as planned. In fact, it was that and more. No weapons were discharged and every participating soldier lived to see another day. If only Lieutenant Kevin Oneida could have said the same of his mission. His team had toiled for two months, fighting a lengthy campaign. Their efforts eventually culminated in victory. But that victory came with a heavy price.
Ten of his men were lost while five survived. But considering whom they were up against, such an outcome was nothing short of miraculous. Oneida should have counted his blessings, but instead, he cursed himself. There were things he could have done differently; more variables he should have considered. Unfortunately, he had not and as a result several men were dead.
Blame was not going to bring back his men and it certainly wasn't going to make him feel better. He would have to put the sorrows behind him and look to the future. It was a hard sell, but Oneida was a warrior. There would be more men to lead and more battles to fight. Dwelling on the past would only make the completion of such tasks unnecessarily difficult.
Oneida looked out the back of the Chinook, briefly regarding the sheets of rain blanketing the open sky. A single soldier sat on the edge of the open ramp, legs dangling over the edge. He sat manning a machine gun gazing down at the lush green forest rushing beneath him. Further back, several brave warriors waited out the flight back to Paraguay. Most passed the time sleeping while others smoked cigarettes. But the card sharks stood out the most managing a decent game of spades amidst the limited space.
Out of a desire to be prepared for the debriefing, Oneida pulled out a small book of notes. The pages were lined top to bottom with diagrams and barely legible handwriting. Never the matter, those intelligence officers would be happy to have information of any kind. Shrugging off the concern, he began to skim over the frayed pages, carefully noting important details.
"Nice book you got there, Lieutenant." Someone said.
Oneida glanced up to find a grease paint face staring at him, "Thanks, Major. But it sure as hell's seen better days."
"I can imagine." The Ranger replied. "So you mind telling me what you squids found?"
"A lot of cool shit." Oneida briefly glanced towards the cockpit. "Everything from Quad Tilt Rotor aircraft to mind controlled soldiers."
"Sounds like one of those bad sci-fi movies if you ask me." Taking a sip from a canteen.
"Yeah, that's what I said, until I saw these things for myself."
"Well, glad to hear that some of the stuff from the rumor mill is true."
"Rumor mill?" Oneida looked up.
"Yeah." The major lit a cigarette before handing one to Oneida. "Every one of the soldiers here have been speculating as to what our friends in Brazil have. Shit, I've heard everything from new guns to reverse engineered alien technology."
"Sorry to disappoint Major, but I don't think we'll be seeing little green men anytime soon." Oneida chuckled lighting his cigarette. "So aside from the rumors, what you grunts been up to recently?"
"Standard training procedures, day in and day out. Patrol drills, fast rope insertions, you name it. But due to limited information we have on the contractors, the equipment they have, their troop strength, their C and C breakdown; we've sort of been at a loss. Simply put, Lieutenant, I'm not so sure we're ready for these guys."
"Hate to be an optimist here, but you're not. No offense."
"None taken. But since you boys know a little more, enlighten me a bit."
"Only advice I can give you right now is to pray." Both men laughed. "However, if you wanna have a fighting chance I suggest you get a little more creative with your training and by creative I mean learning how to fight like guerillas." Oneida offered, "But other than that, some mixed blessings may be working in your favor."
"Whadaya mean?"
"Insurrection."
"Hasn't Brazil seen enough fratricide over the years?!"
"One would have thought so, but apparently that's what's going on with the contractors."
"How'd that happen?"
"A long story."
"I'll take the short version."
"Well, there were a couple of hardcore believers who didn't think Melencampe was being tough enough on the free world. To make a long story short, two sides ended up facing off against each other. Those who were loyal to Melencampe and those who were loyal to this nut named Turner Hall."
"Looks like we'll be exploiting that." The major grinned.
"I would. But don't think these guys will simply lay down their arms. Even though they're fighting one another, both sides are still a threat. Despite their differences, they share one similarity in their hatred for us."
"War's not over yet." The major muttered.
"Never is."
"How your men?"
"Alive, which is a good thing. This guy." Nodding to a man sitting next to him "is fast asleep while another is still in Brazil acting as a liaison with resistance forces. Those two," nodding towards some stretchers further away, "were wounded pretty heavily, but according to my corpsman, who's right over their with them, they should make it."
"Glad to hear it."
"Yeah, Major." Oneida sighed. "So am I."
Sensing that the conversation was over, Oneida turned his attention back to the book of notes. Skimming each page he briefly noted the key details, before turning to the next. Every so often he would come across certain words or phrases associated with past events. His memories of those events invoked a wide spectrum of emotions, ranging from anger to joy. Though the emotions were powerful, Oneida dismissed them. He would just have to express his feelings at another time.
Oneida felt his body lunge slightly forward as the helicopter banked towards one side. Apparently, the change in movement had awakened one of his men. As the aircraft leveled out the bearded sailor gave a quick yawn and nodded towards the back.
"So this our new home?" The young petty officer asked, rousing him self from sleep.
Oneida wondering what his comrade was speaking of looked out the helicopter.
"I guess so." He replied as the various buildings came into view. "Seems like staying in Paraguay won't be that bad after all."
The base was pretty modest in comparison to those bases owned and operated by the United States. There were a few buildings here and there, a smattering of tents, some helicopters, trucks, and various other armored vehicles. It was not large in any sense of the word, but at least it was a place to stay.
Oneida watched as the helicopter began its descent. Around him the other passengers began gathering their equipment as others finally started to wake up. When the aircraft finally touched down everyone remained where they sat, as Oneida's wounded were carried off by stretchers. One of the men carrying the stretcher, the team corpsman, gave Oneida a confident thumbs up as he passed by. That meant they were going to be okay.
"Glad to see they pulled through." Oneida's teammate said.
Oneida replied with a heavy sigh of relief. "You and me both. Ontiveros did one hell'uva job."
"Sure did." The fellow sailor replied. "But I'm about to find out where the hell we crash around here. Sleep for days." He smiled.
"Well don't get too comfortable." Oneida said, hoisting a bag over his back. "Because those intel folks are gonna want to hear about all the neat stuff we learned." Grinning.
"Never a minute to relax in this business LT."
"Unfortunately so Kaufman." Patting the sailor on the back. "But they don't pay us to complain."
"That they don't." Kaufman said as he moved down the ramp.
Stepping off the ramp, Oneida suddenly felt heavy. The realization that he survived that hellish ordeal was just starting to sink in. He remembered how close he came to dying and how close he had come to failing. But victory prevailed and for that he was thankful. He only wished that his deceased teammates were here to celebrate with him. Turning towards Brazil he muttered quietly, "wish you were here fellas, wish you were here."