Author's Note: Thanks for the views and reviews so far. Even if it's small it keeps me wanting to write more. When it comes to review's I'd like to take what a YouTube guy said in a video a few years ago on the Screwattack Channel. "Intellectual and introspective with the ever present openness to the idea that any opinion may prove to have merit." I'll be releasing chapters at a slower pace now. Since I'll be expanding greatly after the "main" story ends, I'll need to create new adventures.

Chapter 8: Old Scars

June 4th, 2010 2100 Hours

Gulf of Oman, Pakistani Territorial Waters

Business had gone back to usual after we were done with our vacation in Dubai. I was out on the roof of the bridge on my last beer for the night before I was gonna head off to bed, some Belgian stuff we bought before we left. Naturally during our time off Koko had a bunch of orders come in. After we had the Fruition refueled and restocked we headed to our next client, a representative from the Pakistani government in Karachi. The product was new targeting systems and navigation computers for their fighter jets. I didn't need to figure out that they were just trying to keep their guard up with their neighbor, India. But what was nerve racking was that both nations were two of the worlds militaries that had the capability to launch a nuclear strike on each other within spitting distance.

Pakistan and India had never really had a stable relationship once India declared its independence from Great Britain in 1947. With three full scale wars and a lot of skirmishes both sides were constantly butting heads over the rights to specific territories that they claimed was their own. The last full scale one in 1971 was a disaster for Pakistan causing it to lose over half its entire population in, at the time, East Pakistan and recognize that new nation as Bangladesh. The possibility of full scale destruction to both sides almost came in December of 2001. While we in the US were busy focusing on Afghanistan fighting the Taliban and Al-Queda. There was an attack on the Indian parliament by Pakistani extremists that India claimed were backed by Pakistan's ISI, The Inter-Services Intelligence. The standoff with 800,000 troops combined on both sides with nuclear capability were at a standstill all the way till June. And just two years ago more Pakistani extremists conducted a four day rampage in Mumbai, India. Effectively killing the peace talks both nations were trying to put together.

I then started to think back to the conversation Koko and I had about the Development Goals the UN was planning. India and Pakistan were part of all those countries that were participating in it but they've been totally concerned with their rivalry. The US was no different, with a federal debt that was now that was now over ten trillion dollars and still in Iraq and Afghanistan there was no way that debt could ever be paid off. Short of an act of God. Koko was starting to seem like a real life Nostradamus, the world was spending more of its time and resources on either crap or killing each other rather than a future. That Development Goals plan was gonna crash and burn.

"Hmph. And here I am riding with people that are only a fraction of the problem and are gonna be in the group most likely to survive the inevitable tidal wave of shit that's gonna hit everything."

"I don't think that would be a good way to survive if you were never able to get rid of that big a smell."

I turned around and saw Lehm, unlit cigarette in his mouth as usual.

Looks like he's done waiting. I'd hoped he forgot but it looks like now I got no choice.

"If you're looking for a drinking buddy you're out of luck. This was my last one."

"Not thirsty. It's been over a week and we still got four days till we reach Karachi." He then lit it. "You promised me you'd tell me. I'm a little sad you haven't yet."

He let out a rather long blow.

"And were also going to the same country you fled to after you deserted your unit."

It will never get any easier no matter how many times I tell it.

"I hope you got a full pack of cigarettes old man." I finished my beer and set the box with the other empty bottles. "This story ain't gonna be short."

Two and a half years earlier:

October 28th 2007 0900 Hours

Fort Bragg, United States, 3rd Special Forces Group 2nd Battalion HQ

First impressions are usually everything, just gotta hope this guy isn't one of those "by the book" types,

The battalion executive officer, Major Harmon Freeburn, began to read over my file. He had the features of a classic garrison officer. Crew cut with a conservative style, my father told me that unlike deployments garrison life was a little more strict. The Army did have a public appearance that had to be maintained. But he put an emphasis on public, meaning that if you weren't in uniform and on duty you could do almost damn near anything. Assuming you were gonna pay the consequences for it later. It was my first day on the job and only four months after I got my green beret. I was glad I finished in the summer cause the cold came rather fast this year for North Carolina.

"1st Lieutenant Damien Hannibal Andrushko. Graduated two years ahead of your peers due to exceptional academic marks and just shy of your twentieth birthday. After signing multiple waivers they allowed you to become Ranger School, Airborne, Air Assault, and Pathfinder qualified you were selected to participate SFAS. Notable exceptions in marksmanship, close quarter combat, languages, and intelligence gathering."

I continued to stand at attention and not respond because he did not ask for any questions. He also didn't seem to care the fact that a man right out of the academy that was only twenty three had achieved more in two years in which most officers and enlisted take near a decade to accomplish. Physical presence not included, although I had slimmed down from all the training, I needed to put size back on me again.

"I'm going to be frank Lieutenant, and I also follow the battalion commander's notion on this. All of this just means you've completed what you are required to know to become an Operator. How you implement that knowledge in the field will decide whether or not to make or break you. Afghanistan and Iraq and continuing to heat up and we're needed the most because the insurgency's in both countries aren't letting up."

I'd been keeping track of the reports too, things were bad. After Saddam was no longer in charge the chains he kept on the ethnic groups from tearing each other apart exploded. Bombings were going off monthly. Not to mention that we were losing support from the people and it didn't help in the fact that that Blackwater group shot eleven civilians last month in which they "claimed" was lawful. Afghanistan was fairing no better, with the massive amount of kidnappings and the Kandahar Provence being especially hot.

"With that being said we need all the help we can get. You know we're fast responders so your gonna need to respond quicker than usual. I know you still just completed all your training and it's your first day but you now have orders to deploy to Afghanistan once December rolls around."

I knew this was gonna happen sooner rather than later. At least I don't have a whole lot of shit to worry about. Just me, myself and I.

"I'll get right on it prepping myself ready to go sir. Who am I gonna be attached to?"

"I'm not authorized to give you all the details but you're gonna be in charge of a team that's partially working with the CIA out in northern Kandahar."

Central Intelligence Agency? Don't know what the hell I just jumped into but fuck it! It's another step closer to my ultimate goal.

"Understood, sir. Will that be all?"

"No it's not, I still have to welcome you to the team!"

I turned around. It was the battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Justin Pegorino. A native of Chicago's South Side, he was a stocky Italian man with deep bronze skin with slick back pitch black hair. His accent was almost comical as he must have really loved his heritage. I almost recognized him immediately cause he used to be a platoon leader in my father's former unit in the 1st SFG.

"Welcome to 3-2. Very recognizable name, you're Marcus Andrushko's son aren't you?"

He held out his hand and I took it.

"I am but I'm not here to try and reclaim his throne or anything sir."

"You done with him Harm? I wanna show him around and help him get acclimated."

"Yeah he's good for now. He'll have more things to get to later in the week but today is just the introductions."

We made for the Lieutenant Colonel's office and both sat down.

"Hope you didn't see the Major as a by the book type. I'm sure I don't need to tell you we bend the rules a little bit, but above all we never break them."

"Affirmative sir."

"And don't use that damn terminator talk when you speak to others around here you're not part of the regular army anymore."

Hmm…let's see how this next line goes and I can stick to how I always act. I just hope he won't give me the nickname "jackass."

I deeply sighed and said. "Amen, hallelujah, and peanut butter."

I scored a rise out of Pegorino. "Ha! Ha! I like your conception on how you express relief! I think you'll fit in with the rest of the teams well."

"The one thing they couldn't change me on no matter how hard they tried was who I was as a person sir."

"And why's that?"

"I know for a fact that I am a free man."

"Uhh…care to elaborate on that Damien?"

I had explained this reasoning over and over again to my friends, family, and guys I was getting along with so many times it had gotten boring and somewhat cheesy in my head. But it was true none the less.

"The short version, I know for a fact that everything I can do involves a choice. So I chose to find a way to influence the world, the black ops world seems like a good place to be to accomplish that."

He raised an eyebrow with a smile that clearly explained, Really?

"I'll fight in the way a Green Beret should but in the end I wanna try and make a way I can influence the world and let people know there is more in the world than just what they see. It's what they can't see or have never researched about."

"Hmm. Wanna change the future?"

"I don't believe in fate sir. If everything was predetermined then what's even the point of doing ANYTHING?"

That part I said with solid conviction and belief. If Pegorino knew my dad, then he knew once we held on to a belief or an idea we stuck to it. We were stubborn like that.

"You know you look like you're a solid individual with conviction in your heart. But I'm sure you know that in our line of work, not everything is black and white."

If there was one person dad trusted more than anyone other than mom it was me. He told us everything, he said he wanted a little insurance if anything bad every happened to him but mom and I both knew he wanted to let a few things off of his chest to ease his conscience. Sometimes in the world of black ops you had to be the bad guy in order to accomplish the mission or save lives. But he often said he would be the worse guy to people who truly deserved their fate. I would use that exact same tactic.

"Well let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

"Hope for the best and plan for the worst. It's what all of us were taught. Now here's where you need to know something rather critical, just because we have a presence in Afghanistan doesn't mean we all go at the same time. We function as small units attached to larger ones all over the world. Normally the Pentagon sends us into hot spots where we need to execute a task and then get out before the enemy knows your even there but for this deployment it won't be the case. You will be in charge of men in an area where you will not have any superiors to report to. It will depend entirely on you one whether or not you will succeed or not. Can you handle that level of responsibility?"

Jesus Christ. First fucking deployment and I'm totally on my own waging war my own way on behalf of The United States. One screw up and it's gonna fall entirely on me. Hell of a way to see how I can handle myself.

"If I didn't then I wouldn't be here sir. Just let me pack and then give me my orders."

"Excellent. Then get ready for a bit of a surprise."

One month later:

December 1st 2007 1830 Hours

Home of Major General Marcus Leon Andrushko, Virginia, 5 days until deployment

Independence was sort of a genetic requirement in our family. My father being the youngest of three brothers did not mean he was the one that was always enthusiastic and got along with everyone. He took his time and worked his way up by enlisting first right out of high school against grandads wishes then hooked up with and married a girl named Lauren, my mother. Naturally after I was born when he was only nineteen my grandad threatened he'd permanently cut him off from the family. But after he was accepted into Officer Candidate School after the Gulf War and passed it cooled the family tension. Sometimes a parent doesn't always know best for their child, guess it was my turn to uphold the lineage.

"God why did you spend more money on that damn ink? You could have at least waited till you were done."

Dad did allow me to live my own life once I got out of the house but I hated that he always get on my case every time I spent money on something he thought I could have invested in better. It was the last day I had to have my arm covered in plastic from the new tattoo. I'd figure he'd be a little more excited since my recent promotion to Captain, I did have money I could spend.

"Hey dad your hypocrite is showing." I said sarcastically.

I pointed at dad's own tattoo on his left forearm, a memorial tattoo to my mother, an angel looking up to the heavens. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer when I was ten and when she died dad had to make it a quick funeral because at the time the Bosnian Civil War was reaching its climax. He and his team had to go in under the guise of UN Peacekeepers and get evidence of the Serbs killing off innocent Croats and Muslims. He decided to make his honor to her permanent. Same why I decided to make an honor of him with my own cleaver representation of the 1st Special Forces Group.

"Well unlike me I never once told you not to join up, you did that yourself. And not to mention go far in places I never even dreamed of. It looks like your mom's intelligence rubbed off on you a little too much."

"She did make you into a sucker sometimes. Like when we lived in Fort Benning, she tricked you into buying tickets to a Buccaneers HOME game?" Mom always got him to do stuff he needed to do whether he wanted to or not. And I always smiled at him mischievously whenever he got played. And then came the phrase in which we expressed our love as father and son.

"You're a piece of shit boy."

"Yeah, but I'm your piece of shit."

We continued dinner in silence. Dad didn't bother explaining what I didn't already know but he'd be lying he if wasn't concerned. As the senior tactical operations officer in the US SOCOM he knew how dangerous the missions could be and what would happen to me if I was caught. There were nasty stories about what the Taliban did to civilians who helped the American's, God knows what they'd do to us.

"I know you will hold on to your convictions but in this line of work you need to be flexible. That means you WILL need to fall into the gray area. But only if you must."

I remember the stories dad. You don't need to remind me.

"I'll only say this once dad. If I ever did something that seemed reckless or dangerous or even stupid. I would think it out far before I executed, and I would have had a damned good reason for doing it. If I screwed up I'll stand tall and face the consequences like a man."

He stood up and placed his hand on my head. Like a noble king transferring the command of his army to his son a born and bred hero.

"Just come home alive and safe my son."

"I will dad."

Present time:

June 5th 2010 0001 Hours

"Five uneventful days later I got onboard a plane to Kabul. It was the last time I would ever see home."

I looked up from the railing to Lehm. I wondered if he actually ever breathed air.

"That's about half the story. You wanna hear the rest? It's getting late."

"You said the whole thing, and I'm not that sleepy."

"Fuck."

Here we go into where it all went wrong.

June 9th 2010 1632 Hours

Karachi, Pakistan, aboard the Fruition

Lehm's reaction wasn't the one of shock and hatred like I had expected, more like of understanding. I was looking down at him on the docks like he was carrying on with business as usual as he was flanking Koko. This deal managed to go over without a hitch. Payment was confirmed and they were offloading the last container of the product. I didn't know how he managed to take what I told him. Maybe he saw pity in me or maybe I was the first one he ever heard that actually hated himself for what he'd done. Whatever his reason, his answer was still the same after that shootout with Orchestra.

"Whoever that person was, he's no longer the one in front of me."

I prayed to God that he didn't just say that because he wanted to. Last thing I wanna have is everyone ready to kill me to prevent a time bomb going off. But at least I had a little less stress on me that one other person other than Koko knew how I fell out of the "sane" world and into theirs.

"What's goin on big guy?"

I turned to my left and it was Wiley. Smooth and charismatic just like Lehm, except he had a few more healthy habits and from what Lehm told me even though I hadn't seen it yet was our resident explosives expert.

"Nothing much. Sky's blue, water's wet, Koko sells guns."

"Very funny but in all things serious you haven't left the ship since we made port. Something amiss?"

I'd be lying if I said no.

"I asked Koko not to leave. This place gives me too many bad memories. That and this is where I made some of my first contracts, I don't wanna risk running into anyone I know. The unofficial CIA bounty on my head is so big that even my former employer's wouldn't hesitate to sell me out."

"Doesn't surprise me. Considering who you've worked for you've never had a consistent string of employer's."

I had to be picky on who would be my employer would be considering the CIA had placed me on a terrorist watch list but when I first started off I didn't have much of a choice considering the entire US military was trying to find me after I had set a CIA black site on fire. I had to fall into the gray areas and earn the trust of some not too pleasant Pakistani opium runners and even gun dealers that I knew were supplying the Taliban with AK's to be used against US Troops. Only after I made enough money I set up a Swiss Account and then I fled to hide out in Istanbul for three months to let the heat die down on the US tracking me.

"I had to. There's still the official and unofficial channels that get the CIA or any of the other alphabet agencies to designate you as a serious threat. Naturally everyone else that was above me was non US or was already a part of a major criminal syndicate. Depends on how well you behave and whether or not the US thought it was worth their time. Naturally I always kept my head on a swivel."

"I honestly know the feeling. It's why I've been with Koko's company for the longest time. Since you came on board it was only she and I that were on the FBI's blacklist."

I knew that Wiley had been gifted with explosives but I wondered what made him so special from other would be bombers with fertilizer and some copper wire.

"Is being who you were as a Delta Operator part of that?"

"Somewhat. When I graduated from the University of Virginia I had a masters in Architecture. When I joined up and got my commission I chose combat engineer."

"Ahh…I can put the math together now. With that kind of knowledge providing you get all the materials you need. You could destroy pretty much anything. Working for an arms dealer helps but also hurt's at the same time."

"And unlike you I've stuck with Koko for a long time so as far as the US is concerned I'm just one of her employers." He looked down and saw her signal. "Looks like the deals done. We'll be departing soon."

June 15th 2010 1000 Hours

The Arabian Sea

When I asked that why we were moving slower than usual somebody from the Asia branch of HCLI wanted to do a cargo transfer. Seems that Koko had something they needed and were gonna do a trade. I had fallen into the habit of paying attention to stuff that wasn't really interesting but like everyone else we were trying to relieve our boredom. I'd figure now would be a good time to challenge Lutz to a marksmanship duel. The moment I heard that he used to be a part of GSG-9 I didn't bother asking anything else. After the massacre of the Israeli athletes in Munich, the German government formed this unit with the sole purpose of counter terrorism. There was no better group in the world and Lutz was one of their prime snipers. Like me he saw quality in a preferred weapon as opposed to durability. His choice was a Sig Sauer .338 Lapua Magnum and mine was a modified Remington .375 Ultra Mag. Lutz didn't say anything but the look on his face was telling me why the hell I would I use a round that was used for big game hunting be used for sniping. While both rifle's had a similar muzzle velocity the kinetic energy from a .375 was far superior and the target will feel the impact. Since most insurgents and guerilla's don't wear body armor the .338 made more sense to use but since I was going up against a more diverse enemy that was never the same it was gonna be more than likely I'd go up against enemies with body armor. I needed something with the reach of a .308 but not use the overkill of a .50 and I chose that caliber.

We hooked up our floating target's on ropes and set them adrift at the stern and set up.

"So what's the prize when I beat you?"

Arrogant blonde jackass.

"You can pick what everyone eats for dinner tonight."

"That's not much of a prize considering everyone scarfs down everything you make."

"Well then let's make this quick and easy and then we just practice until we run outta bullets."

"What's that?"

"Not to sound cliché but, one shot one kill. We'll let the targets drift out another two hundred meters and see who got the closer bullseye."

He looked at me like I just killed his morning but he knew I wanted to get more practice and some of his expertise on sniping. He was the pro I was the amateur.

"Alright. Boring, but alright."

After we let the target's out further he went first. He didn't wait very long, since he did this all the time it was second nature. "You're up man."

I laid down and set up my bipod, loaded one round, and adjusted the scope cause the breeze was rather strong today. I remembered from what my dad said after I beat him in a shooting match that anyone could be a great shot. The only difference between them and snipers is that they placed a much greater emphasis on not being seen but that didn't matter in this little duel. I waited for about a minute breathing slowly while keeping the crosshairs on the bullseye. Hold breath, trigger squeeze, recoil.

"Ok let's see who's better."

After we brought the targets up it was clear who won.

"You may have hit the bullseye but mine is closer to the center. I want fried fish for tonight!"

"Alright whatever. Lets get back to practicing."

June 16th 2010 1400 Hours

Quality firearms were one thing, finding a buyer that wanted to spend the money was another. That was the story of the XM8 weapons system. It completely fell out of interest with the US military five years ago but that didn't stop it's production and it found homes with other armies around the world, PMC's especially. Lutz, R, and Wiley were playing around with one at the stern, we were waiting on the other HCLI ship to get here so we could continue our trip south back to Africa.

"Wow bad ass! I can barely feel the recoil."

"Lutz let me try." R got in front of Wiley.

I was just watching, being my usual anti-social self.

"Damien!"

I turned around and saw Koko, she wasn't in her normal preference for all white. The large hat was definitely off for her and it struck me as weird.

"What the hell are you wearing? You out for an afternoon drive or a day at the beach?"

She laughed. "Unlike you who normally runs around on deck half-dressed I prefer keeping my complexion safe from the sun."

"Koko, the captain's on the radio." Valmet spoke up and I turned away.

It was strange, but I found it rather comforting in the fact a ghost like and sometimes ice cold woman with a band of very efficient mercenaries made me forget the memories that were still haunting me. It looked like I'd finally found some stability in the last two years. I also found it funny that when their human side came out, it was well expressed.

"FUCK MY LIFE!"

I turned around and Koko was gripping her Iridium phone like she just bombed on a deal.

Now what?