Title: Don't Drink The Water, Chapter Two
Warning: This story is rated NC-17 for coarse language and sexual situations. Be warned that this story does include depictions of war; and while not over graphic, they may cause some readers discomfort. Please read at your own risk.
Camp Freedom
Fire Team Death Street Barracks
0100
Frank 'Dim' Dumphy's sat on his bunk, his face hidden behind the latest edition of Star & Stripes, and judging from the frequent rustling of pages, combined with several punctuated grunts and an occasional rant about a contributor's intelligence,
it was apparent that he was not happy. The other inhabitants of the tent braced themselves for Dim's next diatribe.
It came quickly enough as Dim tossed the newspaper down on his bunk with a growl. "I just don't believe this!" he snapped, then glanced upward at the rest of his squad sitting together on the other side of the tent.
"What's the matter, Dim?" Tariq replied with a grin. "They stop making the Chili Con Carne M.R.E?"
"And not a moment to soon," Angel quipped, making Smoke and Tariq laugh. They well remembered the last time their friend had eaten said M.R.E and felt the need to share the experience with the entire squad.
"No." Dim said with a pained expression. "Listen to this! 'A report obtained by the Associated Press says that K.B.R failed to protect the water supply it is paid to purify for U.S. soldiers throughout Iraq, and in one instance, missed contamination that could have caused mass sickness or death. This occurred because KBR failed to assemble and use its own water purification equipment, thus allowing contaminated water directly from the Euphrates River to be used for washing and laundry at Camp Ar Ramadi, where contaminated water was found in several commodes."
"Can you believe that?" Dim continued. "How do you neglect to ensure your people have fresh water? "He waved the paper at the other men who simply carried on with what ever activities they were engaged in. "Doesn't this bother any of you? He asked.
"No! "Smoke retorted."
"Well I should know better then to ask an intelligent question of you of all people, but why the hell doesn't it?"
Smoke gave Dim a withering look. "Coz' I don't drink out the toilet." He rolled his eyes, then rolled over on his bunk, putting his back to everyone.
Dim looked at Angel, who was chuckling at Smoke's comment and shook his head.
"This really bothers me. We sit in the dirt day after day fighting for our country, and our own government, isn't looking out for us."
Tariq placed the weapon he was cleaning on the deck and stretched. "You just figure that out, Dim? Look at who's in charge of making sure the water was purified. You don't have to be a genius to figure out why K.B.R got the contract, or why the hell Halliburton is the chief contractor for everything in this war."
"Its political bureaucratic bullshit and priorities-" Dim began.
"Hell, no, man, "Tariq commented softly. "You're confusing politics with greed; it's greed that feeds all of these things, plain and simple; corporate and personal greed."
"That's not what this is supposed to be about, it's supposed to be about protecting our country, protecting our way of life. " Dim replied.
"Well, we all came here with visions of doing something noble especially after 9-11." Tariq said. "But I know back home on the top floor of some fancy office building, someone in power is thinking about how much money they're making or losing on us. "
Angel nodded. "Its not the first time some government contractor got paid for not doing their job and that soldiers suffered for it. And it does bother me, Dim. I'm just not getting all upset about it, because it's not going to change anything thing and personally I think worrying about protecting ourselves is on the top of the list."
"See? Now there's something that bothers me! "Tariq spoke angrily. "It bothers me that there isn't enough money to make sure every single American soldier fighting here, has full body armor. Or that they threaten to take away our combat pay, when we're here sacrificing ourselves."
Dim shook his head. "It pisses me off that I came all the way here to fight for my country when back home in the States there are people who couldn't give a shit about us and think its wrong that we're here." Dim was silent for several minutes. "Maybe they're right. I mean, sometimes I wonder if I belong here and if what we're doing is right……" he trailed off.
Angel drew in a deep breath. "Dim? I got family who don't understand why I'm here, how I can shoot at other people, or how I can be a part of all the death and destruction that happens here. But I believe in what I'm doing. I believe there's a reason why I'm here. And I'm not talking about faith and being a believer either". He grinned. "I'm talking about having the strength of your convictions and letting that carry you. If you still believe in that noble thought that brought you here, Bro, then you don't let anyone take that away from you."
"Right," Tariq said softly. "I love my country as much as you do and I believe in fighting against terrorism, about keeping our country safe. But for now I have to worry about myself and our squad, do my job and don't let that shit get to me. It's not wrong to be angry about it, it's just…."
"A waste of time, "Dim said. He sighed and picked up his newspaper, folding it gently, and slipped it under his arm before reaching down for his gas mask. "See you guys in a bit," he said. "Lunch just kicked in."
He was almost out the doorway when Smoke called out "Hey Dim-wit!"
"What!" Dim asked, as he turned around.
"Don't drink the water."
"Asshole!" Dim snapped as he turned and exited the tent, the sound of laughter ringing in his ears.
Silas slid his mess tray along the waist high metal track, watching as the Malaysian attendant slid her ungloved hand beneath her worn hairnet and vigorously scratched her scalp before reaching down to grab a roll which she in turn plopped onto Silas's tray. The hand disappeared behind her back for several moments, and then traveled up to her face where it moved back and forth beneath her nose for a count of six before grabbing an over-done burger and placing that on his tray, as well. He continued to push the tray along until he reached the end of the line and tossed the entire tray of food into the trash can, while considering the current M.R.E menu.
"You wasting good food Sergeant? For shame! " A voice boomed in his ear. Silas turned to see Lieutenant Lapus standing behind him, smiling and nodding toward the other mans discarded lunch. Reaching out his arm over the trash can he turned his tray over as well and then smiled. "I don't know about you Sergeant, but watching someone serve me food with a hand that's just scratched their god-knows-what, turns me off. Come on. We'll go grab a couple of m.r.e's." he said clapping Silas on the shoulder and pushing him towards the exit.
Sitting in back of the supply tent on hard sandbags, using their folded BDU jackets for cushions, they proceeded to eat their lunch under the shade of a makeshift awning which had been constructed by the contracted workers in the camp laundry, which was right next to the supply tent. The smell of laundry detergent and bleach wafted on the air, but it wasn't unpleasant and it did nothing to taint the taste of the Grilled Beefsteak with mushroom gravy MRE they were both digging into.
"So…." Lapus drawled. "The Duke mention anything to you about a possible spy in our midst?"
Staff Sergeant Silas's nose had been buried in his chow, but his head immediately, jerked upward. "I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that, sir?" he said responding respectfully and cautiously.
"Yeah, yeah, don't give me any of that 'sir' shit, Chris. I know you, and you know me; I was stuck in the shit and you pulled my ass out, so if I trust anyone, it's gonna be you."
"Is this off the record, sir?"
Lapus groaned loudly and smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Holyshh- Yeah! It's off the record, sergeant! Jeez-us!"
"I find it very hard to believe that one of our own guys could be giving information to the enemy, okay? I know it's not one of mine." Silas said in a gruff voice. "I don't know about anyone else, but I don't believe one of our people could be involved in something that could get the rest of us killed!"
"We're talking about treason here."
"Yeah.
"Chris? Off the record? Watch your back. Tell your team to watch their backs, but only once you're certain none of them are involved."
Silas peered closely at the other man. "John, what the fuck are you trying to say? You goddamned think-"
"No! No, no, no way man, absolutely not, I'm just saying….Oh Fucking hell, I will kill you if you repeat this! "
"Okay."
"They put Hunter on this. Fucking Hunter of all people, you know?"
Silas nodded.
"He's got his eye on your squad."
"My squad?" Silas growled.
"Yeah….give you two guesses who."
Silas shook his head and said " Gotta be Smoke, guaran-godamn-tee it! He's been looking to bust Smoke's ass anyway he can, but I have no idea who else- "
"S'not Smoke, man. "
"Then who-"
"You got an Iraqi in your squad." Lapus replied.
"Tariq! No fucking-way! No. Not Tariq, okay? He came all the way here to fight for his country, his country being the United States of America!" Silas stood up and began to pace. "That sonofabitch!"
"Apparently Hunter has an axe to grind with him, or something. Made a comment like how the hell are we supposed to know what these "foreigners' are saying, could be talking subversive, could be telling us they're saying one thing when they're saying another? Hell! He's got a problem with Howell for Christ's sake! Howell only knows two phrases! Yes, sir and No, Sir. If the guy shit hard enough his brains would end up swirling down the damned bowl! But, his mother's Iranian."
"So its gonna be Hunters personal witch hunt."
Lapus nodded and began wadding up the bits of left over packaging from his MRE and stuffed them into the large pouch, then stopped and faced Silas. "Chris? Its not just Hunter. Baron assigned me, too."
Silas stared at the other men for several minutes, then nodded. "S'O.K, You'll be fair, I know that. And I appreciate you giving me the heads up."
Lapus nodded. "I told you. I owe you, "he said, then told a deep breath."Well, back to the grind. We got a big night ahead of us." Lapus said grabbing his BDU jacket. Silas grabbed his own and the two men began to walk back into the center of Camp.
Lapus turned toward the command tent, but stopped after a few steps and turned around to face the sergeant, "Remember what I said."
"Yes, sir."
Lapus shook his head. "Fuckin' wise-ass! You watch your ass tonight. Don't get dead. That's a fucking order. "