For MamaBirdCat. A story challenge featuring Low Light.
The usual disclaimer: don't own not making a profit
The Road Goes on Forever: The Highwaymen
Chapter Twenty One
Drive
1700
Wayne R. Sneeden Sr. was nineteen years old when the official government letter arrived at his father's house in Auburn Alabama. It was 1969 and the height of the Vietnam War. Already a lot of his friend's were drafted almost immediately after graduation. It was only a matter of time before it was his turn. It was a year post the Tet Offensive and Washington DC was running out of options. Robert McNamara's strategy was failing. Traditionally rural America was one of the most patriotic areas for the military. That was where they focused. Any man not in college was drafted or recruited to serve in a country half a world away. This meant the sons of the poor that were unable to afford college or lawyers to defer their enlistment. Movies in later years would show young white men carrying machine guns with helmets on their heads. The truth was Vietnam was a poor man's war. And the poor men were illiterate sons of share farmers from the South and inner city blacks that had to drop out of high school.
He was a too tall skinny white kid used to living hand to mouth. His large hands were calloused from years of farm labor. They could hold a gun as well as any other bullet holder. He read at a fifth grade level. He owned two pairs of overalls and one ill fitting suit his mother bought him from a Sears and Roebuck catalog. On Saturdays the family would take a weekly bath and join the other farmers on the dirt road to the local church. It was their only means of socialization. Until he joined the service Sneeden Sr. never owned a new pair of boots. That Saturday his mother cut his hair with a sharpened pair of sheep shears and a straight razor. When he showed up in his new Army suit and shined shoes the older men shook his hand while their wives cried and blew their noses on handkerchiefs that were grey from too many washings.
He didn't know that in the cities the young people of the time were protesting and demonstrating against the government. He didn't understand it. His country called on him to fulfill his duty. It was his responsibility to serve. He never considered the alternative. He was raised in an area where duty and honor were as much of a staple as God and country. He continued to believe in an America where commitment and hard work were its own reward. His life perhaps wouldn't account for anything but he could still imagine a better life for his children. He swore those words under the palms of a banana tree next to a bleeding Lieutenant Robert Stern while bullets flew over his head that if he ever made it out of this War alive he would find himself a good woman and settle down in a peaceful town where he would wake up every morning to a smile and fall asleep every night with a kiss. And when he touched down at San Francisco International Airport with young people protesting and spitting at him Wayne R. Sneeden Sr. didn't care. He was only happy to be home to the United States of America. He kissed the ground. He found his good woman and married her a year later where they found a peaceful piece of land. No one understood what the prettiest girl in town wanted to do with the son of a share cropper but every morning she greeted him with a smile and every night she left him with a kiss. Wayne Jr. was born within the year. It was 1975 and his life was the best it would ever be.
They had electricity and running water now but every Sunday Wayne Sr. walked the same dirt road to the local church. He still wore overalls and hand-me-down shoes but his son had new boots at the beginning of the year. His wife sewed him a new suit. He wore it to the bank the day he got a loan to buy his father's share crop. It was 1977 and Jimmy Carter was giving out loans to any peanut farmer in the South. Wayne R. Sneeden Sr. had his own land and a brand new tractor. His son sat in his lap pretending to drive down the rows of dirt. It was the same one his son took to school. He hated it. The older kids bullied him and the smaller ones laughed at him. His father chased him too many times up to the doors themselves to get him to go to school. He didn't understand why. His father seemed to do fine with only a sixth grade education. Wayne Sr. wanted more for his son. He worked hard so his son didn't have to. His hands were still calloused and worn. His face had more wrinkles from time in the sun. He had a perpetual farmer tan. But at night he would go home where his good woman would kiss him goodnight. His life was everything he imagined it to be.
He lived long enough to see his son graduate as valedictorian of his high school. He thought that was as proud as he would be of his son. When he graduated from Ranger Training School he drove the entire way to be there. He was older now and wore glasses but he had never been so proud. Five years later he had the chance to shake General Hawk's hand himself when his son was accepted into GI Joe. His son handed him the official letter. He couldn't read it but he always kept it with him. When he died three years ago in 2009 the entire town of Auburn Alabama turned out. His good woman succumbed to the new word Breast Cancer two years before. She gave him a kiss the night she died. He was never the same. The day he died the banks closed and the local restaurants opened for the funeral procession. They served collard greens and pan fried chicken where the older men shook his son's hand and their wives cried in new white handkerchiefs. Wayne R. Sneeden Sr. wasn't the most educated man but he was the most honorable and hard working man people met. He hoped he instilled those values in his son. He was buried next to a good woman on a peaceful piece of land.
Cover Girl had her eyes open before he did. She had a smile on her face. It was unusual that she was awake before him. It just proved how tired Beachhead was. The fight with God was wearing on him. It was turning into a daily occurrence. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only one fighting. Even Low Light gave up on himself. He was sliding into a point of no return taking everyone he knew with him. The man managed to alienate himself from the teammates he knew for years and an apprentice that looked up to him. Beachhead knew why and it worried him. Barrel Roll was jealous. Janack was upset. Trick Shot was disillusioned by the image he held of the famous night sniper. He yawned and put his arm around Cover Girl. Her hands were curled under the blankets. Her body was warm. No one understood what the super model saw in him. He wasn't the best looking like Duke. Nor was he the best educated like Flint. He looked over at the clock. It was six AM. They had to be on the road in a little less than two hours. He did a quick calculation. They still had time. He rolled over until Cover Girl was underneath him. If he had known it was their last time he would have taken his time.
Low Light met him in the parking lot next to the Hum Vee's. For the first time this week he was cleaned and alert. He had his knit cap on and his sniping rifle in hand. His goggles were on his forehead. He was standing next to his Road King. Barrel Roll, Janack, Ehrenstein, Lifeline, and Trick Shot waited at the trucks. No one wanted to stand next to the sniper. Beachhead and Cover Girl were the last ones to arrive. They walked hand in hand. They were late for all the right reasons. Lifeline and Ehrenstein took one while Barrel Roll and Janack sat in the other. Beachhead and Cover Girl pulled out. He let her drive. She always did. With her in the lead they would make it before General Rey. Trick Shot looked at his phone. Firewall was already there. She messaged him. It was just what General Hawk wanted.
Low Light straddled his bike until he could walk it in reverse. The motor hummed loudly in the way it wanted to take off and leave everything behind. He was at the back of the pack. He took one look at the standing RV where God and Mary were and put it in first. He followed the caravan until they left the front gate. The soldiers of Kirtland Air Force Base saluted as they passed. With any luck they would be at Fort Hood by nightfall. He didn't know what would be waiting for him when they got there. The only thing he thought of was the turns and curves of the road. It was a beautiful day. His Harley hugged the pavement like it was made for it. When he made the highway he straightened out and followed Cover Girl. She was clipping along at close to eighty miles per hour. Beachhead sat in the passenger seat. Unlike his father's time when the civilian cars and eighteen wheelers saw the camouflaged military vehicles behind them they pulled over into the left hand lane and let them pass. It was a sign of respect. A few waved their hands out of open windows. Cover Girl honked her horn.
At Fort Hood General Stern and General Hawk took a tour of the base. Flint stood close to the General's side. Lady Jaye and Firewall walked ahead with the General's wife. The aid was pointing out the history of the Fort. They nodded as if they were interested. Gloria Stern had heard the words before. For her part Lady Jaye feigned interest as if it were the most fascinating information she had ever heard. Firewall stood behind with her cell phone. General Hawk didn't reprimand her. He knew she was telling Trick Shot everything. And if she was telling Trick Shot then that meant he was telling the rest of his team. General Hawk smiled. It was only a matter of hours before his Joe's pulled in. By then General Rey would be on base. They waited. He looked at the photographs. Now that he knew where General Stern allied himself he was cautiously optimistic. It was now up to General Rey. PJ Knight was playing a game with the Jugglers to which they sent their General to take care of. They didn't know that General Hawk and General Stern still had a few moves of their own. He looked over at the Commander of Fort Hood.
General Rey flew in on an ostentatious white military private plane. It afforded him the luxury of a Juggler paid by a corporation known as Knight Armament. General Stern's men hurried to the doorway where they set up a carpeted staircase. On the tarmac General Hawk and General Stern saluted with Flint and Lady Jaye. The General passed them by on his way to shake hands. He had photographs in his hands. He handed them to General Hawk. His face was grim. He looked the manner of a man that didn't want to be there. He was eye to eye with General Hawk with a close cropped grey haircut. His uniform had the same four gold stars as General Stern and General Hawk. The only thing that set him aside was the bearing and funding of Washington DC. He shook their hands instead of saluting. He waited by the gates. The Joe's would be arriving at any time. It was eight PM. The light was fading. The American Flag flickered in the dusk to dawn lights. The military men stood around it as they waited for nightfall.
Beachhead and Cover Girl were the first to enter the gates. They were wide open. He pulled into a designated parking space a greenshirt waved him towards with neon glow sticks. He wore a green balaclava. The rest of the caravan followed. Cover Girl followed him at his side. The soldiers had the same matching green balaclava. He walked past a line of three hundred soldiers wearing three hundred matching green masks sectioned in a line to greet him. General Stern was there at the end. He looked at General Hawk with a question. He saluted.
General Stern saluted back. He held out his hand.
"It's good to meet the son of a man I owe my life to. Your father was a good man Staff Sergeant Wayne R. Sneeden Jr." General Stern said. He shook his hand. "I think you'll find a warm welcome at Fort Hood."
Beachhead nodded. General Stern turned around. It was General Hawk that handed him the photographs. He took them in an automatic way before he saw what was on the inside. He pulled the pictures out of the manila envelope one at a time. In them was Cover Girl in compromising positions he never expected anyone to see. It was private. He didn't expect it. They were the times he was with her no one should see. They were brutally honest and face to face. He looked again. Once he did he looked up at General Hawk. He didn't have words. He felt a chill run down his spine. The General didn't look back.
"Burn those." General Hawk said.
He walked away with General Stern and General Rey. They were talking about the newest budget cuts from Washington DC.
They didn't look back.
End Chapter Twenty One
Drive