Week 14

Day 95 (01/09)

Clark listened with one ear to another to Barry's anecdotes about his vacation. His mind was elsewhere. He was lost. Five days earlier, Clark had fallen asleep under Bruce's touch. It had done him so much good. Too much good, and deep down inside, it was something he was having a hard time accepting. He was having a hard time accepting this change that was going on in his head, this different perception he had of Bruce.

It was something that was making him more and more uncomfortable. Because he couldn't stop thinking about it, it was affecting him at work. And everybody had noticed that. He had to deal with it quickly. He had to get all these parasitic thoughts out of his head.

"Clark? What do you think? "

He turned his attention to Barry, Oliver and Hal.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening. "

Hal patted him on the shoulder.

"You really don't seem to be there. "

Clark nodded his head as Barry turned to see which way the Man of Steel was looking.

"Is there a problem between you and the Bat?" Barry asked.

"What?! No there isn't! "

He was so embarrassed that the red went up to his cheeks. He looked for an excuse as quickly as possible.

"It's just that I thought he'd quit smoking. "

Oliver turned around to see that their Major was indeed sitting in a corner smoking quietly. As for the other two, they had the same reaction: they raised an eyebrow.

"But he was seen smoking yesterday. "

"I hadn't been paying attention. "

Oliver laughed.

"You're so much on the moon !"

Barry crossed his arms, suspicious.

"Yeah, well, he's your roommate. You should know that! "

Clark shook his head negatively.

"Bruce doesn't smoke in our quarters anymore. Not since that chemical burn. "

There was silence. Clark wasn't the only one who didn't want to talk about what had happened. They didn't stay silent for long. Barry came back:

"He's awfully considerate of you, isn't he? "

Barry never lost his way. Clark had to be more careful. He was trying to figure out what to say when Ollie replied:

"That's the way he is. Stop bothering Clark! "

The de-miner was touched by Oliver's defensive stance. Barry was about to retaliate when Bruce whistled in the distance: it was the order to get ready. Barry didn't give up when they got up:

"Still, it raises questions! "

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Kent thought that everything that was happening to him right now must have been karma. That whatever he did, he probably deserved it. But he couldn't really see what he'd done to get back at such an asshole. He was going to get it in the end.

They had been sent to secure a convoy and had had to find themselves under the command of Colonel Don Hall. Of all the groups in the Green Zone they could have helped, he had to come across this guy's group. And he was under his command. Lucky for him, this time there were no bombs, or fake bombs. He was just at the head of the convoy, with his metal detector.

"You'd better hurry up and get moving or we're going to run you over, Sergeant! "

Kent looked up and continued to probe the ground at the same speed. Hall was looking for him on purpose. He knew it. It wasn't the first time he'd done this on their journey and it wouldn't be the last. Hall was having fun mocking him with his classmates, leaving the radio on so he could hear it.

No one answered him. Not Kent, not Wayne, not the others. He took it upon himself not to answer, listening to Wayne's advice while he was hundreds of yards away, ambushed as a sniper. Jordan and Allen had hesitated, but Kent had made it clear to them in one move that they shouldn't react. So, for once, the escort of this convoy was silent with each other.

"Well, except for the snail in front, nothing to report? "

Kent sighed. I can't wait for them to reach the Green Zone. Their patrol was long and he just had to be careful that the vehicles didn't get anything. The detector did everything in its place.

"Nothing to report. "

"Same."

"All Clear."

"O-K. "

Their snipers were stationed all over the heights of the city. They were well covered.

Stupid comments from Colonel Hall did not stop during the rest of the trip. It ended up severely attacking Kent's patience. He swore. In every language he spoke. That was a lot of languages. He then heard Jordan laughing further away, having obviously heard him in the distance. The last time Kent had sworn in this way, he had lost for the umpteenth time in a drinking game.

But Jordan refrained from commenting. They couldn't afford to be on their own channel for too long. So to pass the time... he sighed. I can't wait for them all to get back to camp. At least they wouldn't have to put up with that stupid Colonel anymore...

"Grenade ! "

Kent dropped his detector and turned towards the voice, just as there were several detonations. Grabbing his M4, he ran for cover.

"Where the hell did that come from?! " shouted Colonel Hall over the radio.

They were all looking for eyes. No one had seen anything.

"In the back! In the back! "

He looked for eyes Jordan and Allen. They were the furthest away from the exchange of fire that took place at the back of the convoy.

"I don't have a visual. "

"Me neither, I'm moving! "

Kent closed his eyes for a moment. Their snipers were blind. He signed Allen and Jordan to go. They regrouped and advanced in line, Kent forward. He was the highest ranking of the three. They ran to the right and saw a man running out of a building shooting at a soldier. He fired as he continued to advance. A second man broke through to attack him and was shot down by Allen. They continued on their way.

Their assailants came from the buildings and from two vehicles in the rear. Theirs were destroyed and while they were surrounded, the soldiers struggled to push them back. Kent and Allen fired one wounded soldier for cover and continued on.

"Back! "

They turned to face three other soldiers. Jordan fired and was hit, wounding a man in front. Allen killed the second while the third had his head blown off. A sniper shot. Kent ducked towards Jordan.

"Lantern! Are you all right? "

Jordan coughed and shook his head.

"The vest! "

He and Allen lifted it up to get him back on his feet.

When Kent turned around again, a soldier ran out from between the cars. On reflex, Kent almost shot him before he saw that he was wounded and a guy jumped out with a knife next to him.

"Watch out ! "

He pushed the soldier and parried the knife attack. Kent was quick. He grabbed his fighting dagger from his thigh and stabbed the man several times with his knife. It was so automatic that he didn't pay attention at the time. Neither the gurgling the man made nor the feeling of his knife in the flesh. He quickly took it out and put it back in his holster before taking his M4 over his shoulder and pulling the guy down to a place of cover.

"Stay there! "

He raised his M4 in front of him when he heard the soldier answer:

"Goddamn it, the deminer. "

Kent turned around to see that it was Colonel Hall, whom he had just saved. Damn karma. He motioned to Allen and Jordan to continue. They were careful. They shot four more men, the snipers were doing their incredible job. There was no one left. He took his radio:

"Nothing in sight. Confirmation? "

"Clear."

He turned to the other soldiers still standing:

"Gather the wounded. "

"Reinforcements are already on their way. "

Kent took care of the rest. They were really lucky on that one. They gathered all the soldiers in the entrance of a building. There had been deaths. A sad toll. Two dead and eight wounded. Including Colonel Hall, whose leg was wounded by a grenade explosion.

Reinforcements arrived almost at the same time as the snipers. Kent was helping a soldier get on board when Queen and Wayne returned.

"Are you all right?" Queen asked at once, looking at them.

Allen closed the door on a soldier and nodded his head.

"We'll get over it. Jordan was shot at close range. "

He raised his hand right beside it.

"I'm still alive, but it hurts like hell! "

Jordan smiled as everyone around him remained serious.

"Most of them had machine guns. You're lucky this one had a handgun, Hal! "

Otherwise the bullet would have gone through the vest. Jordan probably would have died.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad I was lucky! "

"You're not the only one," Wayne replied in a harsh tone. "Let's go now. "

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Clark had waited for Hal to be examined before leaving for his quarters. Now that the tension had subsided, all he wanted to do was take off his bloodstained uniform and vest. He took off all his equipment, the top of his uniform and went to wash his hands. The dried blood was really taking a long time to leave and the last time he had any on his hands...

"It was necessary. "

He didn't turn around when Bruce told him that. He knew he was right. He had done it to save a soldier, to protect his men. He frenetically rubbed his hands together, even wishing the marks from his burns would disappear.

"And to think I saved Hall by doing that... "

He rubbed, rubbed, but his hands would remain eternally dirty.

"You would have done it for anyone. That's the way you are. "

Bruce turned off the water and forced Clark to look at him. He had beautiful eyes. His eyes were so piercing that it disturbed him.

"You're a good person, Clark. Don't ever forget that. "

His tone was solemn. He turned to leave Clark when Clark held him down.

"You too, Bruce. You try hard not to show it, but you're a good person too. "

He admired him for that. By living with Bruce, he had learned to decode him a little, and with that, to get to know him a little better, even though his behavioral changes were baffling him. Bruce was very protective of his men and when he felt guilty or powerless in a situation, he would automatically shut down. Bruce was like that. To shut himself up in his guilt.

"There was nothing you could do, Bruce. What happened was not your fault, not Ollie's fault, not the snipers' fault. They were well-placed, even if they were less well trained. It's not your fault. "

Bruce smiled slightly and moved closer. He was so handsome when he smiled.

"I'm too transparent with you. You've got me all figured out. "

Clark smiled back, a little embarrassed.

"I think it's you who surrounds me too well! "

Bruce widens his smile. His gaze seemed so benevolent. And that color... It was probably the most beautiful look he had ever seen. A look on a face so well drawn, with a particular symmetry between his eyes, his cheekbones, this oval face, his lips... He was still thinking about his lips. To the feeling it would feel to touch them, to their firmness under his teeth, to the taste that Bruce's flesh would have. Jesus Christ, he wasn't gay!

And yet nothing to do, he was fantasizing about Bruce. About his superior. At that point, he couldn't deny the attraction he had for him. He had to shut it up as deeply as possible, think about other women in the country and everything would be fine.

Feeling the panic mounting, Clark broke free from Bruce's proximity. But as he passed his level, Bruce reacted. He stopped him in his tracks and, grabbing his face in his hands, he kissed him.

Clark thought he was going to die on the spot. The moaning from his lips caught him first, and with all his desires, he grabbed Bruce by the waist and actively participated in the kiss. To that strong, longing, burning kiss. This simple touch was enough to fully awaken Clark's buried libido and his need for contact became urgent. He pulled on Bruce's hips and stuck his bare chest against his uniform.

That's when it all stopped. In a flash of lucidity, Bruce let go of Clark and withdrew.

"Shit! "

It was the only thing that came out of the Major's mouth before he left their quarters. Clark remained alone for a moment, totally confused: had he turned gay?!

Day 96 (01/10)

He had slept badly. He hadn't stopped thinking about their discussion from the day before. He kept thinking about what had happened when he and Bruce kissed. Bruce had left immediately, leaving him in a state of doubt. But when the Major came back, he had made it clear that their kiss was a mistake, a slip-up on his part, and that as military personnel and his superior, such a relationship between them was impossible.

Clark could only agree with him, having defended himself by saying that he was not attracted to men. Now that he was thinking coldly, it was perhaps the biggest lie he had ever told. It had never happened to him before, to kiss a man, let alone feel desire. But ... with what had happened the day before ... he really couldn't deny what he felt at that moment. He would never know what would have happened if Bruce hadn't broken off contact, but for sure they would have made a huge mistake.

Two soldiers working and sleeping together was frowned upon in the military. But now, two men on top of that... Besides being forbidden, it was very frowned upon. It was a blow to alienate everyone and get beaten up again in their own quarters, or even worse. And then... Bruce was his superior. It couldn't work properly. He would be too impartial in decision making.

This situation heralded the arrival of a nameless quagmire. Bruce was right, they couldn't afford to let this thing get any bigger and risk having their military life ruined and getting into even more trouble. It was a passing attraction, a behavioural lapse they had made that would never happen again. They were clear about that.

And yet there was this tension in the air ever since. This heavy silence, this distance they put between them. Maybe it would go away after a few days. That's what he said to himself, and that's what he hoped for, too. That things would go back to normal, like they used to.

Day 98 (01/12)

It was rather cold that day. The wind blew the sand up and many of them put on their protective masks. This made Kent's vision worse, but it was still better than being blind because of the sand.

"I say it smells like a sandstorm to me. This wind can only indicate that! "

Kent shook his head.

"Shut up, Lantern. Last time you said that we got washed out by the rain! "

Sounding the ground with his detector, he walked again at the head of a convoy, several meters in front of an armoured vehicle.

"Yeah, Steel is right. Shut up or you'll jinx us! "

Kent widens his smile when he sees Allen signaling Jordan to shut up. He quickly lost it when a voice they weren't used to hearing came up: Colonel Jones' voice.

"Stay tuned. "

There was a few seconds of silence before Jordan responded, to the dismay of his two other comrades.

"We're paying attention, Colonel! It's just that talking helps to relax our deminer! "

The man concerned cast an angry glance at the other soldier, who just laughed in his corner. Kent tried to rectify the situation before Jordan was really taken seriously, but it was too late.

"Are you tense, Sergeant Kent? "

Kent's dark look at Jordan was significant. He replied:

"Jordan is imagining things, Sir. He is looking for excuses to argue. "

Jordan made a falsely offended face when the Colonel replied:

"You should have called him Pipe, not Lantern. "

Kent and Allen burst out laughing as Jordan flipped them off. The Flash replied:

"You're absolutely right, Colonel! We're really glad you're on the mission with us today! "

They then heard Jones answer:

"This time I won by the short straw: Colonel Hendricksen is in charge of receiving the newcomers. "

They had heard about it: as quite a few soldiers had finished their service, the new ones arrived in waves. The first one always arrived just after the holiday season, and after that there were on average three or four times a year. This was the largest deployment/retraction of troops in a year; the rest of the movements had fewer soldiers.

"Are you that unmotivated? "said Allen.

While Kent imagined Jones would answer curtly, Kent chose instead to be sincere:

"You have no idea! "

He allowed himself to laugh with his comrades. But he stopped clearly when his detector rang and he stopped immediately, signaling the convoy to stop.

"I've got something. "

Kent stooped down and gently cleared the sand. He dug up the wires and the various charges connected to them.

"IED. I've got several loads spread out on the road. "

He examined each connection before assessing the risk area.

"Safety perimeter at 75 meters from my position. "

"Roger that. Everybody stand back. " replied the Colonel.

Kent looked at the first IED, this time made of TATP. It was going to make it easier for him that the device had only one detonator for the rest, it would be quicker to defuse.

"Tell the explosives disposal team that it's TATP. "

"Roger, Kent. "

He was almost relieved to see that this time the device was classic. There was no mess, no useless wires, no old bomb from decades ago. He liked the classic bombs. It was a change from his last adventures.

"We've got movement in the Northeast building. "

Kent raised his head for two seconds, but he saw nothing. Then he turned his attention back to his IED. All he had to do was cut a few wires and then cut the connection to the other piles of explosives.

"We have a civilian coming out of the building. A woman wearing a niqab. Her hands are hidden."

The full dress the woman was wearing made it impossible to know if she had weapons or not. Kent knew that everyone would consider her dangerous. He looked up to see that this time he could not deny her suspicious behavior. And that with all this wind... the fabric didn't seem to float much.

He got up on his knees and took his M4 in his hands and shouted in Arabic :

"Stop! "

But the woman kept walking towards him. Kent was covered, he knew it. He had wanted to be disuasive but it didn't work. He knowingly dropped his M4 and quickly cut the last wires. He then heard from behind him the Colonel's voice speaking into a megaphone, in Arabic :

"Stop or we'll have to fire! "

Kent finished defusing the trigger and raised his head to the woman, who walked towards him. He saw that something was wrong. His instincts were screaming for him to run away. He then heard the shot from the sniper's rifle and saw the woman fall. In less than a second, his legs were more responsive than his brain. He ran.

The blast of the explosion propelled him several meters and he rolled hard on the ground. At the moment, he was disoriented for a few seconds, his vision blurred by the shock and his ears whistling because of the blast. He straightened up, just in time to see another man come out of a building with a machine gun in his hand and get shot by another sniper shot.

Through the cloud of dust from the blast, Kent could not see much despite his mask, which had protected his eyes well.

"I got nothing, thanks guys! "

Kent walked towards the IED and saw the remains of what appeared to be a vest explosion. The woman was a suicide bomber. Kent had told himself to run before the device, probably triggered by a press button, went off.

"A few more meters and I would jump with the rest of the IED. "

He looked away from the remains of the woman's body and returned to deal with the other charges. There wasn't much he could do. The rest would be the work of another team.

"All clear for the moment. "

"Confirmed. "

Kent returned to the convoy and was relayed by the other team. As soon as they had finished, they resumed their journey.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Clark had come out of the infirmary with peace of mind. When the tinnitus he had had didn't pass quickly, it had worried their Colonel a bit, who finally ordered him to go to the infirmary. Luckily, there was nothing serious. It had passed after a few hours and he was quiet, his hearing had not been affected. However, Hamilton had advised him to see a specialist when he got home.

His hearing was one of his keenest senses and even if he had never taken the test, it was likely that he had an absolute passive ear: he was able to recognize musical notes but unable to sing them in the right tones. And this, without ever having taken a music or solfeggio lesson.

It was one of those hidden talents that he never talked about, because he had thought that one day he would probably lose that talent, and he still thought so: it was common for the eardrums of mine clearers to end up suffering the repercussions of their profession. It was a choice he had made and one he did not regret.

The deminer went to join his comrades, who were posted at one of the refectory tables during their break. He joined them as they all seemed to be immersed in a certain contemplation of the new arrivals.

"I missed something ?" he asked.

Diana was the only one among Arthur, Hal, Ollie and Barry to answer him.

"Nothing yet. We're making bets on the newcomers, will you join us? "

Clark frowned.

"What kind of bets? "

Ollie replied:

"How many of the guys in this little group are going to get lost and ask us directions in the next three days? "

Clark watched them. It was a group of young recruits. Many of them must have been around twenty-five years old. So they had little experience for the most part. It reminded him of his early days.

"You're bad, though. "

Hal shrugged.

"I bet 50 dollars that more than half would be lost, Barry 75 dollars on the same thing, Arthur abstained, and Diana bet 40 dollars on exactly 12 of them! "

Clark turned to the woman:

"You're a hell of a gambler! "

The latter addressed him with a smirk on her face.

"I like the taste of risk! "

Clark then looked at the soldiers, observed them for a while, then answered, before getting up:

"Good goin', 20 bucks says they'll be less than half lost! "

"You're chickening out, Clark," Diana commented as he walked away from them.

He laughed and offered coffee, but everyone was served. He turned around, smiling slightly. The newcomers were really going to bring new fresh air into the camp.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The rest of their day went quietly. Apart from the heavy agitation in the camp because of the new arrivals, there had been little to do for them: no one needed an escort, their guard had already been on duty for the first part of the day, and there had been no bomb threat for them.

So, they had taken the opportunity to get some exercise playing basketball and he had finally gotten out of the current game to settle down and clean his weapons. Weapon maintenance was something very important and now that he had more free time than other days, he could apply himself.

Clark had already disassembled and cleaned his handgun and was finishing the cleaning on his M4. Verifying that all parts were flawless and that it was still properly functional, he paid no attention to Bruce's arrival as he put the firing pin back in place.

"Coffee ?" asked the Major, placing a cup next to him.

Clark nodded.

"Gladly, thank you. "

He finished assembling his weapon and placed it against the table, accepting the cup that was handed to him. Still as nasty as ever, but it still felt good. That, and the fact that Bruce came to talk to him outside of work, and outside of their quarters. Maybe that tension would go away. In any case, Bruce had to make an effort for that.

"Your old quarters were reassigned to another Sergeant. No surprise if we no longer have access to them. "

Clark nodded his head. He had suspected it, Jones had warned him. They remained silent for a moment, until a thought crossed his mind. He looked around them and, hesitating to mention the subject when it might be within earshot, he changed his language at the last moment, speaking softly:

"Perhaps we should consider changing neighborhoods. "

He had chosen to speak Russian. It was a very different language from theirs, and he would be certain that no transparent word would betray them. Bruce pianied nervously on the table. It was the first time he had seen him do this. Bruce chose to answer in French.

"I thought about it, but Jones refused to make any changes for the moment. "

Clark realized that it had been a while since he had heard that language. Bruce's accent made him smile in spite of himself. He nodded his head as Bruce resumed:

"That's how I found out that you also applied three weeks ago. "

He stiffened. Now Bruce had caught him red-handed. He folded his arms as Bruce asked:

"Can I know the reason for this? "

Clark swallowed. He was totally caught off guard.

"You'll admit that it's tricky for me to answer, right? "

Bruce didn't flinch more than that.

"Without a doubt. That doesn't answer my question. "

The bomb squad is thinking. He had the impression that he was playing a game of chess with Bruce and that the move he was about to answer would be decisive. What a pity that he is not very good at chess.

"I made this request for personal reasons. Why are you so interested in it? "

The sniper took out his pack of cigarettes, took one out by reflex but he refrained from lighting it.

"To find out if we have any other problems to deal with so that our teamwork is not impacted. "

Clark squinted, as if trying to probe Bruce deep inside. As if it would help him to make a face. He stopped speaking low when he replied:

"I know how to stay professional. I think if I can put up with Hall's sarcasm and jokes, I can handle a disagreement with you very well. "

What were they saying to each other? They were finally angry with each other? Bruce replied in the same tone, still impassive.

"Really? That wasn't the case three weeks ago. "

The conversation was taking a turn that escaped him. Clark felt attacked by Bruce's remarks and automatically became defensive. Bruce played with his cigarette with disconcerting tranquility.

"What are you playing at, Bruce? What are you trying to prove by telling me all this? That you're the best of us at guessing?! That your expert eye can see and interpret everything?! "

The deminer's tone was threatening.

"You are too often on the defensive. If you had talked about the problem sooner, we could have solved it. "

Clark felt his anger rise and stood up:

"Am I too often on the defensive?! Okay, Bruce. What problem are you talking to me about now? Because either way, I think you have your share of responsibility in it! And light the fucking cigarette or I swear to God I'll make you eat it! "

Clark had screamed. Bruce then took out his lighter and lit his cigarette before answering, giving the deminer time to imagine himself strangling him a dozen times.

"Clark. "

Bruce was always in the same tone. But when he saw the Major directing his gaze around them, Clark realized that he had drawn everyone's attention to them, including his brothers in arms and the new ones. It was like a cold shower for him. He sat down to calm down and looked Bruce straight in his ice-blue eyes. Blue, not gray. Bruce had been able to keep his cool, but not him, the jerk that he was. He took a deep breath, passively inhaling the cigarette smoke.

"I wanted to change neighborhoods because I couldn't stand you ignoring me anymore, pretending I didn't exist. "

He paused voluntarily, looking for any reaction from Bruce. Obviously, it didn't come. He resumed, smiling to keep up appearances, while the soldiers around them could only rely on the intonation of their voices, failing to understand what they were saying to each other.

"But in hindsight, I'm beginning to understand that this was the best solution. "

He put his handgun on his belt, threw his cold coffee on the floor and stood up to retrieve his M4 with a smile on his face.

"We're really not meant to be friends, let alone colleagues in the field. You're right, I couldn't stay calm and professional with a guy like you. On that note, Major. "

He greeted him solemnly, finishing in English and then he retired. He didn't know why Bruce had come looking for lice, but whatever his reason, Clark cursed him.