Title: Don't Drink The Water, Chapter Seven
Archive: Not without Permission of the Author
Disclaimer: "Over There" and all its characters belong to FX Networks and other entities that may have been involved with its production. No infringement of copyright is intended. This story was written for personal enjoyment and to share with other "Over There" fans.
Summary: Suspicions confirm that there's a traitor in their midst; Scream and His Squad fight to save a friends life.
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
O400 That Same Morning.
Sergeant Christopher Silas was doing something he very rarely did since his arrival in Iraq; he was dreaming.
Doctor Jerusalem Harms had given him pills to help him sleep, suggesting it was probably stress, but had she had more time to talk with him, counsel him, it was more likely she would have told him he was suffering from some degree of Post Traumatic Stress, the Iraqi wars signature disorder. A recent study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found that one in five servicemen and women returning from Iraq actually suffering from psychological conditions
But Silas was dreaming and it was a good dream. He was sitting in a chaise lounge
by a pool of the bluest water he had even seen, sipping a margarita. The sun was shining down, warming his olive skin which was covered with a light sheen of sweat on his chest, arms and legs. He wore a Speedo; this made him frown slightly in the midst of his dreaming because it was not something he would usually don for the pool, but he didn't look bad. At least the beautiful blonde in the bikini beside him, seemed to think he looked pretty good. She turned to him, smiling and spoke, but he couldn't hear what she'd said. He leaned in, asking her to repeat when-
"Pop! Pop, pop, pop! Pop!"
Silas sat bolt upright in his bunk. Several other men in his tent were sitting up as well, equally confused-
"Pop! Pop pop! POP! "There it was again, this time followed by the sound of feet pounding on hard earth.
"Get down! "Silas screamed, rolling himself out of the bunk and hitting the floor with a loud "UMPH!" He grabbed his vest and BDU jacket and wiggled his way into them in the dark, shrugging into the jacket and grabbing his pants. All around him the rest of his tent mates were doing the same thing.
"Get him!" came the unmistakable voice of Lieutenant Hunter, as he ran by. By then Silas was fully dressed and ran out of the tent nearly doing his eye damage as he put on his NVG and immediately went to check on his men.
"Rawhide one! Sound off! "Behind him Lapus was doing the same.
"Nisseri and Dumphy here Sergeant!" Tariq yelled as Silas ran towards the sandbag bunker.
"You two okay? What the Hell was that! "
"We're not sure Sergeant! The shots came from back that way." Dim called back pointing towards Barons tent.
"You stay there! You stay at your post and stay alert! "Silas yelled at them turning and running back towards the command tent, his weapon out and at the ready.
When he reached the command tent he heard the unmistakable thudding sound of someone being punched quite hard. He pressed thru the opening to see a man on his knees; he was being held down by two MP's and a third one was in front of him delivering a punch directly to his solar plexus. Hunter was standing to one side, his arms crossed over his chest. Silas felt movement behind him. A quick glance confirmed it was Lapus.
"Alright, that's enough." Hunter shouted, realizing he had witnesses. He walked over and leaned down, staring into the man's face. "Now. Who in the hell are you and what do you think you're doing with these!" He yelled, holding a handful of crumpled papers under the man's nose.
Another MP came forward. "He had this on him, Lieutenant." He quickly handed Hunter a small booklet, about the size of a passport.
"Fazul Al –sha- shak….whatever. Well, Fazul. What are you doing with my papers? Are you stealing them?"
Fazul shook his head.
"Hmm. Somehow I just don't believe you Fazul. I guess we'll just have to hold onto you until you tell us why you're here. That's of course until we send you on to Abu Ghraib." He turned to one of the MPs. "How did he get in here?"
"We don't know sir. He works in the laundry. I've seen him here before. He must have not left this evening and hid out there."
Fazul lowered his head to the ground. "Allah Akbar," he whispered.
"Yeah, yeah, right, let's see Allah help you now." To the MPs: "I want this man put in the lockup and watched carefully. Has anyone checked the laundry for signs of this other man?"
"No sir, we were too busy chasing him."
"I want ever inch of that laundry checked out! Sergeant Silas," he said turning to the younger man. "I think you're squad will do that. Get your men up and get moving." Hunter snapped.
"Yes sir" Silas responded clearly annoyed, but holding it in, refusing to give Hunter any satisfaction. He turned and left, making a beeline for his squad. So much for dreaming.
Camp Freedom
Motor Pool
0600 Two hours Later
Corporal Hicks had been in charge of the motorpool for about two years now, despite the fact that his tour in Iraq had originally been for twelve months; he wasn't the only soldier in this war who'd found himself in this position.
He walked in to the small building that housed his 'office' and placed his third cup of coffee down on his desk, then stretched and yawned quite loudly. He'd been awakened earlier by all the noise that had followed the capture of the intruder, just like everyone else in the camp. They'd all be tired today. He heard voices and raised his head, as the rest of his crew began to arrive, and called out, "Johnson! You got '56' working yet? I need that vehicle, soldier!"
"Be done in an hour! I'm right on it!"
"Good." He said nodding and consulting his list." Mac?"
PFC McCauley looked up from his copy of Stars and Stripes.
"I got the parts for 'Thirty-one'. Damn; I still say light a match under it, but no can do."
"Yes, sir," McCauley responded, folding his paper and walking over to a set of shelves with boxes on them; each box had a number taped to the front of it, and held the paperwork and or/parts needed to complete the repairs.
"Ah, look who it is. It's Mitchell and Del Rio; so nice you could join us this fine morning, ladies." Hicks called out in an imitation of Mrs. B's lazy southern drawl.
She gave him a scornful look as she passed by him, hand out to collect the days' assignment, and kept walking.
Del Rio stopped in front of him and took the proffered paper. "You need to give up already. You're just pissing her off."
"Well, thank you for your concern, Ma'am." Hicks said. Maybe on you could persuade her to think of me a bit more kindly. It's a long ride up to Balad."
"What?"
"Yep. You two. Going up to Balad Air Base to pick up Captain Baron and bring back here. Oh don't' worry," he assured her, seeing the look on her face. "Got a whole detail going on up there with you. You'll be just fine." He said with a smile, as Del Rio shook her head.
Mrs. B, who'd finally looked at her papers, stalked back to Hicks. "You gotta be kidding me! Why can't someone else go up to Balad and get him?"
Hicks looked shocked." I thought you ladies would enjoy the ride, a little freedom-"
"A little getting my ass shot off……"Brenda retorted.
"Why doncha take number eight. Best we've got. And hurry along, Sweet Pea! Captain hates to be kept waiting. Get an early start'd be best."
A sound somewhere between a growl and a contained shriek came out of Brenda's mouth. Del Rio looked at her, and shook her head resignedly. "Come on. Not worth it
Girlfriend, "gently pulling her towards, 'Number Eight'; a M998 Humvee with a bolt-on armor kit. She grabbed the clipboard and began to run down the checklist.
Brenda climbed in to check that the vehicle had been refueled, and did an interior inspection. She leaned down to ensure that the first aid kit was under the seat, saw that it was and straightened up, turning her head. She leaned over the front seat and startled, yelled loudly as she saw two dark eyes staring back at her. She quickly recovered and pulled her weapon. Aiming it at the man's head she yelled, "Get your hands up! Get them up now! I said now! "
Del Rio, who had grabbed her weapon upon hearing Brenda scream, just as quickly had her own weapon thru the open back window, trained on the man lying on the floor of the Humvee.
The scream carried thru the motorpool area and several men came running, but the ladies were clearly in control. "Mac!" Del Rio screamed. "Get over on the other side and cover this piece of shit! "Marsh? Come open this back door for me!"
"Don't you even move! " Mitchell yelled at the man on the floor. "Don't even twitch!"
The man turned his head and Del Rio yelled. "You move again and I'll shoot your.."
"Jesus! Go get Hunter!" Hicks yelled over them, giving Johnson a shove.
Once the man in the Humvee was well-covered by several weapons, Marsh began to gently open the door. It was at that moment that the unknown man quickly sat up and reached for the bun at the back of Brenda's head. She recoiled at his touch; it reviled her. Angrily she brought her head down and butted the man in his head, knocking him out cold.
"I said don't move goddamnit!" She yelled and shook her head. She'd have a bitch of a headache all day for sure.
They'd pulled the man out of the Humvee and had him in flex ties by the time Hunter arrived. They searched his person, finding several items, including a large eight by eleven envelope filled with papers, which Hunter confiscated. He turned to Corporal St. Claire "Get me Silas and Lieutenant Lapus, tell them to meet me in the command tent. Get Private Nisseri also; we may need a translator. Then come back there as well."
"Yes, sir!" St. Claire responded, quickly leaving to perform his duties.
"Hicks! Outstanding job catching this mook!"
"Uh, it wasn't me sir…uh…"
"Well which man was it?" Hunter asked looking around at those assembled there.
"Uh, it was Privates Del Rio and Mitchell, Sir. They found him, covered him and Private Mitchell rendered him unconscious." Hicks replied with not just a little sense of awe.
Hunter swung around and looked at the two women, stunned. "Well. I see." He nodded, not fully believing what he'd been told. "And how did you do that Private Mitchell?"
"I head-butted him sir! Don't expect him to wake up for quite awhile. Sir!"
He looked towards Del Rio.
"I told him if he moved I'd shoot his cajones off. Seems cojones is universally understood, uh, sir."
"Well…."Hunter said, stunned. " I see. Outstanding, soldiers! I'll see to it that the Captain is made aware and that your records reflect your exemplary actions."
"Thank You, Sir"
"Yes, sir. Thank You, sir."
Hunter nodded and looked at the assembled group. "As you were," and with that he left the building for the command tent.
Once he left, several of the men applauded. "Holy shit, Del Rio!" Marsh laughed. "That was friggin' priceless!"
"Hey Mitchell? How's your head?"
"Friggin hurts!" Brenda said sitting down heavily on a crate, and taking the folded cloth Johnson handed her and placing it on her forehead. She accepted the aspirin
McCaully handed her. "Shit, we better get moving if we're driving up to Balad," she said to Del Rio.
Hicks perked up immediately. "Uh, look, maybe I should send two-"
"Men?" Brenda asked, clearly perturbed. "I think Del Rio and I got this covered."With that she got up and stretched and hopped into the driver's seat.
"We can trade off driving if you need to." Del Rio said, climbing into the passenger seat.
"Yeah. We make a pretty good team," Brenda drawled with a smile pulling out of the motorpool area. She saw Hicks at the window of the first vehicle of a six vehicle convoy; he spoke to the driver for several minutes, before walking towards them and stopped at her window.
"Okay; that's for you two. You'll be behind those first two vehicles. The truck's empty, it's just so it looks like an everyday detail. You got plenty of firepower and assistance should you need it, although…..after seeing you in action Sweet Pea? I think they're the ones who'll need help." He smiled winningly at Mitchell. "So. Anything to say?"
Brenda turned her head and gave him a full view of her beautiful face. "Yes," She said slowly, in a breathless voice."
Hicks was ecstatic. "What's that, Brenda?"
"Don't ever call me 'Sweet Pea' again!"
Hitting the accelerator, she peeled out, leaving Hicks in the dirt.
This information is not fiction; It's the results found in a study done just this year (2006).