Badal

Disclaimer: Same as before.

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17 March 2002

Dear Rusty,

Your letter actually arrived two days ago. I understand about the hectic conditions. The news seems to be indicating you guys are busy. I just want you to know I hope your safe.

I'm flattered about the picture, really, I am. Now I wonder do you have any pictures of yourself lying around? I would like a copy so I see what you look like. I thought it was funny how your bunkmates reacted.

You won't believe this, but those two officers I told you about, Harm and Mac, finally acted on their feelings. Interestingly enough it was my birthday when this happened. I walked outside for some fresh air, because I was so wrapped up in work that I forgot it was my birthday, then when I walked outside I saw them kissing each other underneath a street lamp. Everyone said, "It's about time." Or words to that effect. Even my CO was happy for them.

About Tiner, he and I are just friends. We tried dating but felt too weird. He's going to OCS soon and coming back a lawyer. We're more like brother and sister now. I'm not really seeing anybody right now. What about you? Is there a special lady in your life? If there is I hope she doesn't mind my letters.

Sincerely,

Jennifer

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Afghanistan

Rusty smiled as he handed a couple crackers from his MRE to a one legged youth, about eight years old, he seemed to have lost a limb from the profusion of landmines the Soviets and other parties had been throwing around Afghanistan for decades.

"You are a doctor?" a woman in the village, presumably the boy's mother asked.

"No." Rusty replied, "I'm just a regular soldier. What happened to him?"

"My son lost his leg because of Badal." The woman replied.

"Badal?" Rusty asked.

"Badal is vengeance against one's foes at all costs." The Afghani woman replied, "Our village supported a revolt against the Taliban months ago. Because of that they bombarded our village with artillery. My son's leg was crushed by a stone block and it had to be removed."

'What kind of bastards...' Rusty thought as he got back into the truck with the bag of fresh fruit he had been ordered to purchase.

"Hey Rusty, are you alright?" Sid asked.

"Yeah Sid, I'm fine." Rusty replied.

"You don't seem fine." Sid observed.

"What kind of bastards bombard a village with artillery?" Rusty said.

"Rusty, your people did the same things and worst against the Indian tribes." Sid replied, "Anyway, that's the nature of the beast. That's why we're here, to try and put an end to these Taliban bastards."

"Yeah, I guess your right." Rusty replied, "I believe in the reasons we're here. But I never realize how vicious the Taliban are until I saw that poor kid."

Rusty and Sid got out of the truck with bags of fresh fruit to supplement their rations in the base. Both of them had telescope sighted M-16s with Rusty armed with a 9mm sidearm as well and Sid having an M-203 grenade launcher bolted under his rifle.

"What did Jennifer say today, Rusty?" Sid replied.

"She was flattered about the picture I keep hanging off my belt kit." Rusty replied.

"She's stationed in Falls Church you say?" Sid replied, at Rusty's nod, he said, "Hey you go down with me to my Grandma's almost every break, why don't you go pay her a visit as soon as we're out of this Godforsaken land."

Rusty sat under his favorite shade tree and started composing his letter, his M-16 in his lap.

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Falls Church, Va.

"You read my mind, Harm." Mac replied, warmly as Harm handed her a cup of coffee.

"If I could then I wouldn't have to ask where that tattoo of yours is located and where it is." Harm replied.

Jennifer Coates smiled as she approached them, then ever the dutiful Petty Officer she said, "Sir, Ma'am, the Jorgenson case you asked for."

"Thank you Jen." Mac replied, and noticing the letter in Jennifer's arms she said, "He wrote you again?"

"Yes ma'am." Jennifer replied. She walked out of the break room and headed back into the bullpen where Tiner fell into step beside her.

"So he wrote you again?" Tiner asked.

"He did." Jennifer replied, "So have you and Lucy decided whether she's gonna move into your place yet?"

"No, not really." Tiner replied, "What about you, have you been on any dates since Chris..."

At Jennifer's sad expression Tiner said, "Hey, I'm sorry I brought that up. I know you love him but he was such a jerk to you. You were right to ditch him."

"I've been on dates," Jennifer replied, with a small grin, "With my text books and term paper for my class."

"If you need to talk..." Tiner replied.

"I know, thank you Jason." Jennifer replied as she opened the letter. She saw a picture of a couple of men wearing British desert camouflage (only the Canadian snipers had desert cammies in Afghanistan). One of them was of Native American origins, wearing sunglasses and a floppy bush hat carrying a scope sighted M-16. The other was a Caucasian wearing a peaked German Army field cap with his British cammies and carrying an M-16 with a scope.

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21 March 2002

Dear Jennifer,

Your letter arrived today. I hope that the picture I put in made it in one piece. It's the only one I have on me. I'm the guy on the right. The red skin in the picture is none other than Sid. I'm the guy with the German Army field cap atop my head. I got it two years ago when I spent some time at the Alpine Guide's course in Germany. I learned mountaineering, climbing on snow and ice, and mountain rescue work.

Afghanistan is a land torn apart by strife, as you can see. But nothing can prepare you for the effects. When we went to a nearby village to buy fruit to supplement our rations I saw a ten-year-old boy missing a leg. It happened when the Taliban bombarded his village with artillery for supporting the Northern Alliance. That's why we're here I guess, to stop them from doing that again. What kind of bastards would do that sort of thing? Sorry, I needed to get that off my chest.

To answer your question, no I'm not seeing anyone currently. So no one really minds that I'm writing you. Three years ago I was seeing someone. Her name was Melissa, and she seemed, on the surface, to be a sweet and caring young woman. I was wrong, though, she had a tendency to be wishy washy, never knowing what she wanted. She played me like a fiddle for half of the six years I've been in the Army before I said to hell with it and left. What about you? I refuse to believe a woman like you could remain single for long?

Sincerely,

Rusty

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TBC