Angst alert. Time to put the kids to bed and get out your comfort food...it's about to get real.
Smoke.
Fire.
Burning flesh.
It clogged my nose making me gag, forcing me to breathe uneasily through my mouth. Shouts and screams littered the night in every direction. I was huddled behind a Humvee amid a hail of gunfire. The clicks and pops of bullets whizzing by told me the enemy was close to hitting their mark. I leaned forward attempting to see the other Humvee's in the distance. As soon as my head poked out past the tire gunfire erupted from across the berm forcing me to dive for cover.
Our convoy was on the way to meet an informant with potential information on Ali Hassan al-Majid, a top tier target identified internally as the King of Spades. He was a military commander for the Iraqi Intelligence Service earning the name 'Chemical Ali' for his use of chemical weapons in attacks against the Kurds. As such, he was the fifth most-wanted man in Iraq facing charges of genocide and crimes against humanity. Basically, the guy was bad news.
I had worked a source for weeks who had promised al-Majid was due to attend a leadership meeting tonight in a small rural village. I had lobbied for days with my command, arguing the validity of the intelligence, and convincing them the risk of placing American forces this far outside the wire was well worth the risk. If we could observe al-Majid entering the meeting we would have a chance to take him out. If we missed him my source could still relay what had occurred in the meeting which could potentially lead to vital intelligence we desperately needed. In the end, I was granted permission to set up an observation post in the village the meeting was set to occur in with the intention of identifying al-Majid.
We were a few miles outside the village when an IED detonated near the front of the convoy. It had obliterated the lead Humvee instantly killing the four men inside, and put the second out of commission. The rest of us poured out of the remaining Humvee's as gunfire exploded from behind the berm to our right. We were pinned down, unable to move out from behind our limited cover without exposing ourselves. I ordered the sergeant nearest me to radio for air support and a MEDEVAC helicopter for the wounded.
"Ma'am, air support is incoming. We have to move back. We're popping smoke for the MEDEVAC," Sergeant Gerhart yelled over the chaos.
"I'm not leaving them," I yelled back pointing towards the disabled Humvee about 150 yards ahead of us.
I could see two, maybe three, Soldiers huddled behind the wreckage attempting to return fire. I glanced around the front end of my Humvee straining to see in the dark. I could see tracers firing in the distance lighting up the night temporarily. The relentless suppressive fire of the enemy seemed to have let up fractionally making me worried. They had us pinned down and helpless, why not finish the job?
I turned wide-eyed looking at Sergeant Gerhart, "They're trying to flank us to the left. They'll have a clear shot at them if we don't get them out now."
"Ma'am, there's nothing we can do. We have to fall back."
I grabbed Sergeant Gerhart by his uniform dragging him towards me, "We are not leaving them behind! I'm going to get them. Provide suppressive fire when I say or I'll shoot you myself!"
He nodded reluctantly relaying the plan to the remaining members of the platoon still in the fight. I changed out the magazine on my M4 getting down into a squat looking back at the remaining troops. I nodded once at Sergeant Gerhart, and he called out the command for covering fire over the radio. All at once every weapon we had fired in the direction of the berm.
I sprinted the distance to the Humvee trying to stay as low as possible. Hopefully, the enemy would be too busy keeping their heads down to notice my movement. The three remaining Soldiers saw me coming opening up their own barrage of bullets. I slide to a stop on my knees facing the men. I only recognized Staff Sergeant Hamada by name. He and I had met at the beginning of our tour, and had formed an easy friendship of sorts.
He looked terrible and hurt; a large head wound was pouring blood down his face obscuring his vision. The nasty cut disappeared into his hairline and I instantly worried he'd be unable to remain conscious long enough to get out of here. He was also favoring his right leg, but was still putting up one hell of a fight. The other two were just kids and they looked scared shitless. I smiled encouragingly even though I didn't have a lot of hope in our current predicament.
What I hadn't noticed until now was a fourth Soldier lying flat on his back panting quickly, a huge gaping hole where his stomach should have been. Parts of his stomach and intestines were lying outside his body as he futilely tried to cram his body parts back inside. I crawled to him looking at the wound then to Hamada who just shook his head. I tore my eyes from him looking down at the Private smiling softly.
"What's your name Soldier?" I asked grabbing his hand holding on tight.
"Paige ma'am. Jason Paige," he replied weakly. "Am I going to be ok?"
"You're going to be just fine. You just sit tight. Help is on the way," I lied choking back tears.
"I'm so scared," he cried. "I don't want to let you all down."
I wiped the tears from his face pulling out a vile of morphine from my pack. I stuck him in the leg hoping the medicine would take the edge off. Paige's breathing became increasingly erratic as he coughed, blood dripping out of his mouth running down his chin.
"You didn't. You did good Paige. Real good," I consoled him wiping some of the blood from his face.
He smiled taking one last shuttering breath before falling still, his eyes wide. I dropped my head placing my hands over his eyes closing them. A huge explosion detonated 50 feet from our position and we were all thrown to the ground. They were dialing in their mortars. Time to go.
I used my radio to tell Sergeant Gerhart we were heading back and to get ready with some covering fire. I laid out the basic plan to the remaining men. It wasn't really all that complicated, run like hell towards the MEDEVAC.
"We can't just leave him here," one of the Soldiers implored gesturing to Paige's body.
"We're not going to leave him. Reinforcements are inbound. Everyone will come home. You have my word, but we have to get you all out of here," I told him hearing the helicopter in the distance.
Sergeant Gerhart replied they were ready, and as soon as the gunfire rang out we all shot forward. I had my arm around Hamada half dragging him towards what remained of the platoon. He stumbled, falling in a heap, dragging me down with him.
"Ma'am, you have to leave me. I can't make it," Hamada groaned beside me in obvious pain.
I knelt beside him returning fire, "I'm not leaving you either Hamada. You are getting on that helicopter if it's the last thing I do."
I heard our platoon let loose another round of suppressive fire and stood up grabbing Hamada by his gear, dragging him to his feet. I practically carried Hamada the remaining distance straining against his weight. Sergeant Gerhart ran out supporting Hamada on the other side as we closed the remaining distance to the MEDEVAC.
We hoisted him on the helicopter as the medics attended to him immediately. I stepped back looking back towards the burning remains of our convoy counting the lives that were lost tonight. At least five that I knew about, but who knew what the final body count would be. I had lost eyes on a majority of platoon when the IED hit.
All those men, kids really, dead because of me.
I was vaguely aware of someone calling my name, but it sounded so far away. I was locked in the grips of my nightmare back on that desolate road in Iraq. My eyes shot open and all I could see was a shadowy figure looming over me. I lashed out instantly delivering a harsh jab to their solar plexus. The figure was caught off guard, and let out a groan falling to the side. Instinctively I moved into a dominant position on top of the threat drawing my fist back. I could hear the figure talking, but couldn't make out any of his words. I needed to fight. I needed to take out the threat.
The man caught my fist expertly rolling me so he was on top. I locked my legs around his waist, and attempted to maneuver myself into a more defensible position. It was all in vain, this guy was big and he was skilled.
He pinned my hands above my head yelling, "Come on Jo, snap out of it!"
I froze blinking rapidly. My eyes seem to focus for the first time and I saw Owen's worried face hovering over me.
"Owen?"
He sagged with relief releasing my hands as I let my legs fall to the side. The reality of the situation sank in and I closed my eyes in mortification. Owen rolled off me and I immediately got out of bed grabbing one of his T-shirts throwing it on. I searched around the room before I found a pair of basketball shorts rolling them down four times so they would stay on. I was out of the bedroom before Owen seemed to realize my intentions.
"Where are you going?" he called from behind me throwing on clothes.
"Home." I was at the door when he caught up to me blocking my escape route.
"Hey, don't do this. Talk to me," he begged.
Oh, that was so not happening.
"Get out of my way Owen."
His lips pressed into a thin line, "No. Not until you tell me what's going on."
"You're a pretty smart guy. I'm sure you can figure it out," I snapped at him.
"And so are you, I'm sure you know that's not what I meant. Talk to me."
"I'm sorry Dr. Phil I don't feel like sharing right now."
His eyes narrowed and I attempted to squeeze past him. His hand stretched out blocking my way, and I yelled in frustration.
"Move! Just let me go!" I screamed at him. Tears were streaming down my face, but I was too pissed to be care.
His gaze softened and he reached for me. I backed away from him shaking my head.
"I'm not letting you leave after what happened. If you don't want to talk about it fine, but you're not leaving," he said crossing his arms over his chest.
"You really think you can stop me?" I taunted.
"Don't do that. Don't try to deflect this with violence or sarcasm."
His words were like pouring lighter fluid on a raging fire, "Get out of my fucking way! I swear to god if you don't move I will make you move!"
He breathed deep tilting his head as he watched me snarling before him. He didn't look the least bit concerned by my threats.
"I don't think you will," he replied evenly.
"What? You think we sleep together once and now we have some kind of bond. Well, I hate to break it to you Owen, but it was just sex," I lied. I didn't know why I was saying any of this. Maybe I wanted someone to hurt as bad as I was hurting. Logic wasn't really at the forefront of my mind.
"That's pathetic Jo, really. Don't give me that bullshit," Owen replied his voice rising slightly.
"Is that a problem? Can't take the hit to your ego?" Now, I was just being a bitch, but I couldn't seem to stop. I was vaguely aware I was ruining the best thing in my life, but I there was no stopping this crazy train.
Owen fists were clenched at his sides as he watched me, "Oh, I'll be fine. Thanks for the concern though. You're still not leaving."
I spun around clenching my eyes shut in frustration. I paced his small living room like a caged lion. I felt like if I didn't get out of this bungalow right now I would explode.
"Jo," Owen said softly from behind me. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Please."
How many times in my life had I heard those words only to expose them for what they were, lies. I whirled on him fury in my eyes.
"Why do you care?!" I screamed getting in his face.
"Because I love you dammit!" he yelled back.
I stopped dead in my tracks. It was like being dowsed in a bucket of cold water.
"What?" I whispered stepping back.
He ran a hand through his hair huffing out a breath, "This is not exactly how I pictured having this conversation, but I love you Jo. Since the moment I stepped off that elevator and ran into you you've turned my world upside down and I love it. I didn't realize what I was missing in my life until I met you."
This was wrong. Owen couldn't love someone like me. He was a normal guy from a solid background. I was….not.
I shook my head at him, "You don't know what you're saying."
"I know this is hard for you to understand, but you don't get to tell me how I feel."
This was insanity. Owen had lost his ever-loving mind.
"You can't love me because you don't even know me," I fired back at him.
"And whose fault is that?"
Touché.
"It doesn't matter," I told him defiantly. Owen thought what little we had shared meant he knew the real me. The sad truth was it hardly scratched the surface. If he knew even a fraction of my twisted history he'd run screaming for the hills.
"Oh I think it does," he said stepping towards me. "You are so scared of being discarded you refuse to let anyone get close. You torture yourself with events in your past in the hopes of making amends."
"You don't know shit," I shot at him. He had hit way too close to the mark for my liking.
"Why don't you enlighten me then," he retorted.
Later, I wouldn't be able to pinpoint one thing that swayed my decision to lose my shit. Maybe it was the thought of finally sharing everything with someone. Maybe it was a challenge to see if he could really reconcile what he thought he knew with the real me. Whatever it was he had unleashed I could no longer contain it. It was like a dam in the deepest recesses of my mind broke free, a flood of emotions and memories surged forward I was unable to stop. A hysterical laugh bubbled up as tipped my head back cackling; even to my own ears it sounded a little crazy. This was not going to end well. Choo choo, everyone on board, the crazy train is leaving the station.
"You want to talk Owen? Ok, let's talk. You think you can handle knowing the real me, let's put that theory to the test. I bet you've never met anyone whose own parents couldn't be bothered with them considering you grew up like the Brady Bunch. I bet that kind of upbringing is real comforting. Me on the other hand, I was abandoned on the steps of a firehouse a few hours after I was born. How's that for honest? No big deal really, I was just a baby so I don't remember my parents throwing me out like trash. Besides, I'm sure that happens all the time.
"It only gets better from there, since I had no parents I was taken in by child protective services, and lived most of my childhood at an orphanage. I got to watch all the other kids get adopted day after day while I was passed over like a defective toy. It's probably what dogs at the pound feel like when potential owners come to look at them, but decide pet ownership just isn't for them. Could be worse though because sometimes I had foster parents take me in for short periods of time, and since they only did it for the money it was a bit lacking in the love department, but they more than made up for it in abuse when the mood struck them. And believe me, the mood always strikes them! It wasn't a complete loss though because it helped me develop a really interesting skill set. Hiding, stealing, fighting, all useful skills for a child. The real key is learning how to be invisible, it helps cut down on the beatings, and I was exceptionally good at that.
"Sometimes though it's better to cut your loses and just runaway. No matter how good you are at hiding the really determined one's always find you, and no amount of food or shelter is worth those kinds of beatings. Besides, the street isn't all bad, but when you're 6 years-old it can be a bit overwhelming. If you want to survive you have to find a gang willing to take you in. Without people to watch your back you're as good as dead. Thankfully, I've always been resourceful and that comes in real handy when you're living on the street. You may not always have food or shelter, but you had freedom. I got good at finding what my gang wanted or needed. I learned how to lie, cheat and steal in any situation. That's how I was able to lift the access card to the server room so easily, because I've done it my whole life. I've done anything and everything you can imagine to survive. I've made every mistake you could possibly make and then some. Sure, you lose a little of your humanity, not to mention your childhood, but it beats being dead.
"But hey, you already know me, right? We can move past all that pitiful childhood stuff. Why don't we talk about the Army? That's what my dream was about by the way. Specifically, a mission I planned and executed that resulted in the loss of five lives. To really add insult to injury most of them were kids…the oldest was only 20. I held one of their hands as he died an excruciatingly painful death because there was a gaping hole in his stomach from shrapnel almost ripping him in half. I lied and told him he would be fine, and watched him die in that desert thousands of miles from home. They weren't the only one's either, I can't tell you how many people died because of my failures over there. Guess it's not hard to imagine why I chose to get out, kind of selfish to stay in if all you're doing is harming your own.
"Hey, everyone has down times now and again. No big deal. The F.B.I. was a WAY better. I was taught to use my "special skill set" to study and track down homicidal, sociopathic, serial killers. If that doesn't sound like fun I don't know what does! The best part was having to stand in front of their families when I was too late to save their loved ones. Since I grew up lying for a living it was easy to feed them the bullshit line that their family member didn't suffer or that their death was quick. That's the biggest lie of all because it never was, ever. They all died in the most horrific ways you can imagine. I thought I had seen the worst that humanity could do to each other in war, but boy was I wrong.
"The best parts though were the hostage scenarios. You wouldn't think they happen that often, but you'd be wrong. I was called in to negotiate tons of them in the limited time I was there. Par for the course, the last one I was at resulted in the loss of an entire family. Three of them were kids, the youngest of whom was 3 years-old. They were killed by their father, five feet in front of me, while I was helpless to stop it. Everyone who comes into my life ends up hurting or dead. There is no redemption for someone like me, no happy ending."
I finished in a flurry, suddenly exhausted, falling back against the wall and sinking down to the ground. At some point during my tirade I had started crying, and the waterworks were really flowing now. I pulled my knees to my chest wrapping my hands around them letting my head fall. I was losing it, right here in Owen's bungalow.
I felt Owen sit down next to me, slowly, almost like he was afraid of startling me. To be honest, I had forgotten he was even in the room. He reached out, wrapping his arm around my shoulder pulling me towards him. I sobbed loudly unable to comprehend why he was still here, much less willing to hold me. He pulled me onto his lap, and I buried my head in his chest wrapping my arms around his neck holding on for dear life.
Owen whispered softly in my ear, but I didn't understand anything. I hadn't cried like this since I was a child. I cried until my body hurt and I was physically unable to produce more tears. He held me throughout the whole ordeal rubbing my back soothingly, rocking me in his lap.
I finally quieted down to just the occasional sniffle pulling away from Owen to look at his face. His shirt was drenched with my tears, but his face was filled with nothing but love and compassion. I didn't understand this man. His actions went against everything I had learned throughout my life.
"Why are you still here?" I asked him wiping at my eyes.
Owen smiled softly running his hands through my hair, "I told you, I love you."
I leaned forward kissing him as I felt myself tear up again. I didn't know how to tell him it was the first time anyone had ever said those words to me.
VR Miller: Thanks for the great review! I'm glad you like Jo and the other characters personalities. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Storylover00: I know right...finally :) Hope it was worth the wait.
Desert Vulpes Zerda: LOL!
Korraismygirl: Thanks for the great review! I have had other people ask for Owen POV also and I'm thinking of doing a follow-up story once this is complete from his POV to give insight into what he's thinking while Jo is out being cray cray. I could do that before starting the sequel to this story that will take the characters through the movie...thoughts?
twifan1987: Perfection! Thanks...I think so too.
Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks again for the great review. Hope you liked the follow-up in the chapter. We get to see a little more into Jo's past and I think that's important...plus, Jo and Owen will never be easy or conventional :)
fandomenforcer: I know, me too. I wanted to build it and make them work for it and I think they earned their roll in the sheets...LOL. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
angleicedg: Thanks! Hope you enjoyed the latest installment.