Hey guys so I know it's been a long time but I'm back for short story. This is mostly for all of you who have been so supportive of me. I've been working on my novel and it's going really, really well, so I'm really excited about that!
So no extremely funny opening authors notes today but you know I can only be so fabulous so many days of the year!;-) Anyway I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you thought in the comments if you get the time. Thanks to Churchlady63 and Sarge you guys are awesome!
On to the story! I apologize for how short it may be and also for any grammatical errors: autocorrect…. you know the deal.
Disclaimer: what do you think? If I owned them, you wouldn't be reading this cheap stuff. You'd be watching the reboot movie!
(Typing in bold because I'm on a touchscreen, and it's confusing I'm lazy, soooooo…. Yeah.)
….. (story starts here)
Tully touched the top of his head, feeling the heat seep through his fingers. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to have dark hair like Sergeant Troy's or Moffitt's. It must be unbearable. He donned his helmet again.
Tully flicked at a fly that was just begging to be murdered brutally- by his unforgiving hand, of course.
"Hitch," he gave the fly another wrathful smack. It landed at his feet, stunned, and he buried it under the sand with the toe of his boot. "Just how long this is going take us, do you think? Troy better have a good excuse for dawdling because I'm gettin' hungry, and rations just won't cut it! I want some of that dried-out macaroni back at base."
Hitch hopped out of the jeep., And scanned he horizon. He knew Tully was joking, but he wondered himself how long they would be waiting. Since the two Sargent's had left that morning on a mission to investigate a sighting of some Arabs holding a German officer prisoner by another soldier on patrol, the two had been on standby at Ras Tanura. They'd been left behind because of Tully's healing trigger finger, which had been shattered a few days ago on a mission, and Hitch's bruised and cracked ribs from the same mission. But they were called in about seven hours after the Sergeants had left, and given coordinates at which to meet them to discuss a plan.
Hitchcock grinned twisting to stare at the sun. He squinted, "but you don't have to wait long Tully. Here come our stray Sargents now!" he glanced at Tully,"ya know, you should talk more buddy. I think that's the most words I've ever gotten out of you at one time!"
"And it's he most you'll ever get again," the matchstick in his teeth nodded lazily. Tully would have been grinning except that he begin to see the worried looks on the faces of his commanding officers as they approached, "What's up, Sarge?"
"You two are, that's what's up."
Hitch lit a cigarette, "how do you mean?"
Moffitt jumped out of the Jeep and made his way over to the other two. Troy followed. The Brit began to draw three small circles, tents. The layout of he Arab camp.
"Here's how it figures. Akheb is holding a man called Emmerich Fuhrmann- he's a Lieutenant, and he knows things, things that could be vital to the turning the war. We need to break him out, but we've got a problem."
"what?" Tully asked.
"Well, Fuhrmann's blind. Has been since he was a kid, but he's brilliant, and the German army couldn't turn down that kind of mind. The Arabs lead him around and he stumbles a lot, so escape is going to be interesting." Troy explained, "That's where you guys come in. Tully, you can't use a gun, and your aim isn't ideal with your other hand, so you'll be the one guiding. Hitch, I want you to go in with him and cover him. Moffitt and I are going to use the jeep as a distraction."
"But why me? I can drive jeep faster and straighter than any of us."
Tully was going to defend his chauffeuring talent but decided against it.
"Because if you two are caught…" Troy faded off, knowing that man to man they were equally important…. but the army didn't think so, "orders, guys. Let's shake it."
….
The jeep tread the sand gently, slowly. Night seeped it's shadows and dyed the Rat Patrol inky darkness.
Hitch and Tully crept within the confines of the camp. Three tents. Tully had memorized Moffitt's words. The last one. That was where there enemy\kidnapping target was.
Tully motioned to Hitch, and they sucked up against the back of the middle tent. Hitch moved forward and took the guard down with his knife, easing him gently to the ground with a hand over his mouth to silence any gasps. Hitch heard Tully ghost by, but all he caught was a flash of black. Inside the tent, Tully leaned over the Sleeping figure. The man had fair hair, and a young face. Because he knew the man was blind, the Private was only slightly disturbed when he noticed that Fuhrmann's eyes were only half lidded. Except for his slow, even breaths, he looked dead.
The Rat mentally shrugged, and slipped a hand over Emmerich's mouth. "Sprichst du Englishche?" he whispered, like Moffitt had taught him.
A nod came in reply, stiff and terrifyingly strong for a man just asleep.T
"Good. Come willingly, and we won't have to spill blood. Got it?" another nod. Tully hauled Fuhrmann to his feet and pushed him out he door, holding a knife to his back with his good hand. Once he made it outside, Hitch followed, Thomson held at the ready.
They got to the jeep just in time to hear a gagging sounds behind them and the rustling of feet. As the sand parted under their tires, Tully yelled to Hitch, "was that guard dead for sure?"
"Apparently not!" shouts in Arabic impaled the night followed by the rapid thudding of gunfire.
A spray of bullets hit their tails, and Tully jerked forward, swerving of course and almost crashing into Hitch and Troy. Their passenger cried out, slamming against the door hard enough to break bone when the other rats swerved out of the way.
"Guter Gott im Himmel!" a voice rang out, "have you no control?"
Tully grimaced and slid forward off the seat, ad Moffitt jumped in to take the wheel. The rest of the night saw him baring Tully's limp form and praying for Godspeed.
…..
At medical, Tully was rushed into surgery to remove two bullets from his lower back and chest cavity. Troy had his arm, which had been grazed and only acknowledged after the adrenaline wore off, stitched and bandaged, and Emmerich Fuhrmann's bruised arm was given all the attention it deserved. He was sent to be questioned, and at last the team could rest easy.
….
Tully woke up floating. Laying on his back in what felt like dry water might, he moved his fingers and arms carefully, assessing their agility. He couldn't even twitch them. Numb. A sharp gasp filled his ears when he breathed, and he realized that the sound was his raspy breath caught in an oxygen mask, which he stubbornly clawed off.
"Did we get 'em?" He asked without turning to look. Troy whistled next to him, closer than Tully had thought.
"So he lives." Troy set a month-old newspaper down, "yeah, we got him. And you got some illegal metal in your back."
"What?" Tully croaked.
"Yup," Troy was grinning now, "we have to go out there and reclaim our stolen weapons. Didn't figure they'd have guns, or at least good guns."
"Make a deal with you Sarge." Tully's eyes drifted shut, and he let the drugs take over. "Next time we do the scouting, you do the rescuing."
Tully was asleep then, so he didn't hear Troy laugh softly or say, "Right-O, buddy. We'll do that."
….
Hope you guys liked it! I know it's random and has inaccuracies and plot holes, but I don't care! I hope you guys don't either!
This is that last story I'll be posting at this age (for safety reasons I don't want to say how old I am) because tomorrow is my birthday! I have to work tomorrow (polo practice, yikes! I need to get to bed!) But I'll be around horses, so I couldn't ask for a better gift than that!
