Message in a Bottle
Disclaimer: Same as before.
RD – Thanks for the technical notes, I should've researched a little more thoroughly. The magazine where I read about the Canadian snipers in Afghanistan, Soldier of Fortune, didn't mention JTF2 so I figured they were from an ordinary infantry unit. I'm a student with an ROTC unit myself in the US military.
Lady Patriot – I've read your Coates fic, it's what planted the idea in my head that I should write one.
Tracy – Thanks for the Intel.
~ ~ ~ ~
Kandahar, Afghanistan
25 February 2002
Dear Rusty,
Your letter arrived yesterday but unfortunately it was a busy day and I didn't have time to finish my reply. I'm sorry to hear that you had such a terrible childhood, but you seem to have turned out alright. One of the officers I really look up to, Colonel Mackenzie (she's a Marine), had a rough time growing up too. She's as tough as they come, she's like Wonder Woman, but her main weakness is a certain Commander Harmon Rabb. He's a lawyer who's also a qualified Navy pilot. An odd combination, but he and 'Mac' as she insists I call her outside the office, are very much in love with each other. I can't figure out why they haven't gotten together yet.
I also had class last night too. I go to night school and am working on a degree in psychology. I had to go to the library too, to research on my term paper on neurotic disorders. Have you thought about education beyond secondary level?
Sincerely,
Jennifer
Rusty smiled to himself as he sat under the shade of a gnarled sapling, one of the few trees growing in the Afghan mountains. His sunglasses were propped smoothly atop his head as he read the latest letter from Jennifer. He imagined what she looked like, and for some reason he imagined her to be around his age, maybe younger by a year or so. He couldn't imagine a face, but seeing she was an admin clerk a certain image started to form. He could just picture a dour, humorless, bespectacled typist but for some reason he had a hard time equating the image to Jennifer.
"Wouldn't it be nice if she were as beautiful as her penmanship." Rusty mused aloud.
"Then ask her to send a picture." Martin Shapiro, USMC, the Master Sergeant sharing tent facilities with the Canadians, said.
"Sorry Top, I didn't see you." Rusty replied.
"So Petty Officer Coates wrote you again?" Shapiro replied.
"Yes Top, she did." Rusty replied.
"If you wonder what the girl looks like, ask her to send you a snapshot." Shapiro replied, and ambled off, his M40A1 tucked under his arm.
"She's probably some older lady with really pale skin from not seeing the sun at all." Sid teased as he walked by, his M-16 slung over his shoulder.
"Very funny." Rusty replied as he shifted his own M-16 and began to write his reply.
~ ~ ~ ~
JAG HQ, Fall's Church, Va.
'It's Tuesday, but why does it feel like Monday right now.' Petty Officer Coates thought as she carried a stack of files from both Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb.
Tiner fell into step beside her, "Jen, let me carry that for you."
"It's OK, Jason, really." Coates smiled. Tiner was like the brother she never had growing up, they'd become friends recently but what with Tiner being due to going to OCS they decided not to go any further.
"So Rusty wrote you again." Tiner replied, "What did he say?"
"I didn't read his letter yet, Jason, but yes he did write me. Funny, you'd never expect this sort of thing to result from a postal mishap." Coates replied, "But I'm glad whoever screwed up and sent the letter Rusty's way did what he or she did."
"He sounds like a nice guy." Tiner remarked, "If a little spooky, I mean it's kinda unnerving knowing that the guy can blow someone's head off at distances of up to a mile away."
"Tiner." Coates scolded, smiling, despite the weight of the files in her arms.
"Am I interrupting anything?" a gruff male voice sounded behind the two petty officers.
"No sir." Both Coates and Tiner said.
"It's always fun to have personal chats, but remember my maxim, on your own time." Admiral Chegwidden began. He gave Coates a two millimeter smile, "I see your Canadian friend wrote again. Be sure to tell him that I hope the Toronto Raptors have a bad season."
"Yes sir." Coates replied. Chegwidden walked back into his office as Coates and Tiner went about their business.
Twenty minutes later Tiner walked by Coates' desk when she motioned him aside, "Jason can you help me with something?"
"Certainly Jen, anything." Tiner replied. He always regarded Coates as the little sister he never had growing up, and he was willing to do almost anything for her.
"Could you help me decide what picture to send?" Coates asked. It was a decision between an official uniform portrait and another portrait picture of Jen that was about a couple years old.
"The one in uniform." Tiner replied, after a brief hesitation.
"Don't you think that's a bit severe?" Jen asked.
"It brings out your eyes." Tiner replied.
"Won't Lucy be upset with you for talking to me like that?" Coates teased. Tiner was dating a law student from Georgetown he'd met in class a few months ago.
"She knows we're just friends." Tiner replied, suddenly feeling like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar, "Well I've got to get the Baxter case file to Commander Rabb."
"OK, see you later Jason." Coates replied as she reread the letter and again blushed.
27 February 2002
Dear Jennifer,
Well, in answering your question I do have a few credits in a degree in literature. I actually happen to read at a college senior level. So you see, I'm not just some dumb grunt. I've actually been wondering what you look like. So could you please send me a picture? You don't have to if you don't want to, I mean you could just send me a card that says piss off on it.
For some reason the guys in my unit have been kidding me about me writing some, 'old, pale, bespectacled typist.' The most notorious are the Marines that share our billet. Particularly Gus. Don't get me wrong, he's a good guy, I like working with him, but he can get on my nerves about this. On a personal note I happen to think you're around my age at the oldest, maybe a year younger and quite attractive.
If there's a boot print on this letter it's because we had a mortar attack when I wrote this. Sid, my spotter, stepped on the letter as we ran outside to man the wire. He dived into the trench only run headfirst into the butt of an M240G light machinegun that the Marines put out to defend the compound. He's sporting a bruise under his left eye and a very sour expression right now.
Regards,
Rusty
~ ~ ~ ~
TBC (Any ideas on how they should first meet, face to face?)
Disclaimer: Same as before.
RD – Thanks for the technical notes, I should've researched a little more thoroughly. The magazine where I read about the Canadian snipers in Afghanistan, Soldier of Fortune, didn't mention JTF2 so I figured they were from an ordinary infantry unit. I'm a student with an ROTC unit myself in the US military.
Lady Patriot – I've read your Coates fic, it's what planted the idea in my head that I should write one.
Tracy – Thanks for the Intel.
~ ~ ~ ~
Kandahar, Afghanistan
25 February 2002
Dear Rusty,
Your letter arrived yesterday but unfortunately it was a busy day and I didn't have time to finish my reply. I'm sorry to hear that you had such a terrible childhood, but you seem to have turned out alright. One of the officers I really look up to, Colonel Mackenzie (she's a Marine), had a rough time growing up too. She's as tough as they come, she's like Wonder Woman, but her main weakness is a certain Commander Harmon Rabb. He's a lawyer who's also a qualified Navy pilot. An odd combination, but he and 'Mac' as she insists I call her outside the office, are very much in love with each other. I can't figure out why they haven't gotten together yet.
I also had class last night too. I go to night school and am working on a degree in psychology. I had to go to the library too, to research on my term paper on neurotic disorders. Have you thought about education beyond secondary level?
Sincerely,
Jennifer
Rusty smiled to himself as he sat under the shade of a gnarled sapling, one of the few trees growing in the Afghan mountains. His sunglasses were propped smoothly atop his head as he read the latest letter from Jennifer. He imagined what she looked like, and for some reason he imagined her to be around his age, maybe younger by a year or so. He couldn't imagine a face, but seeing she was an admin clerk a certain image started to form. He could just picture a dour, humorless, bespectacled typist but for some reason he had a hard time equating the image to Jennifer.
"Wouldn't it be nice if she were as beautiful as her penmanship." Rusty mused aloud.
"Then ask her to send a picture." Martin Shapiro, USMC, the Master Sergeant sharing tent facilities with the Canadians, said.
"Sorry Top, I didn't see you." Rusty replied.
"So Petty Officer Coates wrote you again?" Shapiro replied.
"Yes Top, she did." Rusty replied.
"If you wonder what the girl looks like, ask her to send you a snapshot." Shapiro replied, and ambled off, his M40A1 tucked under his arm.
"She's probably some older lady with really pale skin from not seeing the sun at all." Sid teased as he walked by, his M-16 slung over his shoulder.
"Very funny." Rusty replied as he shifted his own M-16 and began to write his reply.
~ ~ ~ ~
JAG HQ, Fall's Church, Va.
'It's Tuesday, but why does it feel like Monday right now.' Petty Officer Coates thought as she carried a stack of files from both Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb.
Tiner fell into step beside her, "Jen, let me carry that for you."
"It's OK, Jason, really." Coates smiled. Tiner was like the brother she never had growing up, they'd become friends recently but what with Tiner being due to going to OCS they decided not to go any further.
"So Rusty wrote you again." Tiner replied, "What did he say?"
"I didn't read his letter yet, Jason, but yes he did write me. Funny, you'd never expect this sort of thing to result from a postal mishap." Coates replied, "But I'm glad whoever screwed up and sent the letter Rusty's way did what he or she did."
"He sounds like a nice guy." Tiner remarked, "If a little spooky, I mean it's kinda unnerving knowing that the guy can blow someone's head off at distances of up to a mile away."
"Tiner." Coates scolded, smiling, despite the weight of the files in her arms.
"Am I interrupting anything?" a gruff male voice sounded behind the two petty officers.
"No sir." Both Coates and Tiner said.
"It's always fun to have personal chats, but remember my maxim, on your own time." Admiral Chegwidden began. He gave Coates a two millimeter smile, "I see your Canadian friend wrote again. Be sure to tell him that I hope the Toronto Raptors have a bad season."
"Yes sir." Coates replied. Chegwidden walked back into his office as Coates and Tiner went about their business.
Twenty minutes later Tiner walked by Coates' desk when she motioned him aside, "Jason can you help me with something?"
"Certainly Jen, anything." Tiner replied. He always regarded Coates as the little sister he never had growing up, and he was willing to do almost anything for her.
"Could you help me decide what picture to send?" Coates asked. It was a decision between an official uniform portrait and another portrait picture of Jen that was about a couple years old.
"The one in uniform." Tiner replied, after a brief hesitation.
"Don't you think that's a bit severe?" Jen asked.
"It brings out your eyes." Tiner replied.
"Won't Lucy be upset with you for talking to me like that?" Coates teased. Tiner was dating a law student from Georgetown he'd met in class a few months ago.
"She knows we're just friends." Tiner replied, suddenly feeling like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar, "Well I've got to get the Baxter case file to Commander Rabb."
"OK, see you later Jason." Coates replied as she reread the letter and again blushed.
27 February 2002
Dear Jennifer,
Well, in answering your question I do have a few credits in a degree in literature. I actually happen to read at a college senior level. So you see, I'm not just some dumb grunt. I've actually been wondering what you look like. So could you please send me a picture? You don't have to if you don't want to, I mean you could just send me a card that says piss off on it.
For some reason the guys in my unit have been kidding me about me writing some, 'old, pale, bespectacled typist.' The most notorious are the Marines that share our billet. Particularly Gus. Don't get me wrong, he's a good guy, I like working with him, but he can get on my nerves about this. On a personal note I happen to think you're around my age at the oldest, maybe a year younger and quite attractive.
If there's a boot print on this letter it's because we had a mortar attack when I wrote this. Sid, my spotter, stepped on the letter as we ran outside to man the wire. He dived into the trench only run headfirst into the butt of an M240G light machinegun that the Marines put out to defend the compound. He's sporting a bruise under his left eye and a very sour expression right now.
Regards,
Rusty
~ ~ ~ ~
TBC (Any ideas on how they should first meet, face to face?)
