[Ok, don't hate me for this, but I pulled a Clavell. From now on, please consider the previous entry a prologue of sorts, to establish date and location. I'll be getting back to it, so don't worry; I intend to keep this up. Read and Review.]
The rotors spun quickly, doing their very best impression of a Samurai at training. The UH-1 Iroquois was moving swiftly through the late morning sky.
"This whole damn country is a waste of our time…" The pilot said to his copilot, who nodded. The helicopters only other passenger let out a poorly surpassed chuckle.
"What was that, Lieutenant?" The man inquired, bringing his eyes up from the documents he had been studying.
"I said I'm damn proud to be serving in this just and totally necessary war, sir!" The pilot cracked.
"I bet." The man said, knocking some dust of his uniform, which was far dressier than the two pilots who were clad in Olive green jumpsuits, topped off with their white flight helmets. The lead pilot, despite his feigned formalness, showed his true colors with a message written in large black block letters on the back of his helmet.
THIS WAR SUCKS.
The passenger, a young Captain, finally broke the resurgent silence. "So, Jake. Told you should have gone to Law School." He said. In the cockpit, Jake Marshall laughed.
"Ah, been waitin' for you to bring that up." He said, mentally dismissing all that formality the army had drilled into him. His copilot seemed to notice this and cast a quick look at the two. He appeared slightly aghast at the change in protocol. The Captain noted this.
"Don't worry, Lieutenant, been friends for a while." He explained, sticking a hand out. "Diego Armando, Judge Advocate General." He introduced. The young copilot slowly shook the Officer's hand.
"Wesley Stickler, Nice to meet you, Captain." He said, still a little skeptical of any Officer who was so quick to dispense with required procedure. And, of course, there was… "Pardon me, Sir. But… your hair doesn't seem regulation length. Even for a lawyer." He noted. Both Diego and Jake burst into laughter at once.
"Ah, it's all about morale." Diego explained. "My bosses don't think they can keep us happy with crew cuts. Besides, I fed them some BS about hair length being a part of my culture. They folded." He chuckled, removing his dress hat and running a hand through his thick black locks. "Whereas First Lieutenant Marshall is simply in defiance of proper military conduct."
"Yes, sir." Jake affirmed, fully aware his hair was starting to poke out and curl from under his helmet. Truthfully, his commanding officer didn't care, so naturally, Jake was quick to return to his beloved long length, the same length that had won him all those hearts back when he was a hotshot, stud quarterback in college. Besides, he was the best chopper pilot in his division, so who cared? "What brings you to Vietnam, Di?" Jake finally asked.
"Investigation assignment." Diego answered, as he returned to reading documents clad in their normal looking manila folders. "Hey, I just made Captain, what do you expect?" He joked, his grin immediately causing Jake to flashback to their younger days at the University of Texas.
"Oh? Doin' what?" Jake inquired, flaunting military confidentiality and further horrifying copilot Stickler.
"Some… special forces guy." The Prosecutor said, flipping through thin white pages. "Here we go. Lt. Colonel Matt Engarde." He read allowed. The chopper suddenly pitched down, moving Diego from his seat. "The Hell was that?!" He cried.
"Nothin', nothin'. " Jake excused. "Probably an air pocket or somethin' like that." He said, nodding. "We'll be landin' soon. Buckle up." He said, laughing. Diego nodded. With an ease that bordered on bragging, Jake maneuvered the helicopter to a perfect landing at large base that had suddenly come into vision. He touched down with cat like grace. Jake finally spoke again as the rotors slowed. "I'll drive the Captain, you stay and make sure this hunk is still in one piece." He ordered. Stickler nodded, ever obedient.
As the two pilots discussed, Captain Armando shoved his files into his briefcase and carefully stepped from the chopper, donning his peaked Officers hat, the black brim almost as shiny as his shoes. Aside from the hair, he looked the part of a Captain. He finally strolled over to the two pilots. "How hard is it to get a cabbie around here?" He inquired, causing Jake to roll his eyes and make for the nearest Jeep. Diego again cast his glance at Second Lieutenant Stickler. "So… do you know anything about this Engarde gentleman?" He inquired as the wind kicked up a little.
"Just rumors, Captain." He said, not breaking from his inspection duties. "Not the kind you hear in the mess hall either." He added; Diego's eyebrows slowly rose.
"What kind then, Lieutenant?" He asked,
"The kind you only talk about in the dark, Sir." He explained, eyes showing some sort of dread that Diego had never seen in his quaint little office back in the States. Before he could continue, Jake pulled up and the two quickly exchanged proper salutes. As he spun on his heels and made his way down the gentle slope, he couldn't erase that look he had seen in the eyes of Second Lieutenant Stickler. He placed his briefcase in the rear of the Jeep and finally placed himself in the passenger seat, sighing slightly.
"Long flight?" Jake asked, as he started the Jeep forwards.
"Yeah, started in Georgia. I've been through…actually, I don't know how many time zones I've passed through." Diego confessed as he rubbed his eyes. "Even better, I'm chasing a damn ghost." At this, Jake's hands tightened on the steering wheel. The Captain took notice, but said nothing.
"Well, least you ain't stuck fightin' over here." Jake said. "Though, I'm sure prosecuting enlisted men who break curfew presents its own set of challenges. Not to beat ya down, but how'd you wind up with this?" He inquired.
"General Von Karma ordered me. Not like I can argue. Besides, that man has been in the JAG corps since… well, since it started." Armando joked; visualizing his Commanding Officer's large nose and near psychotic personality. "Besides, I have no desire to feel a 17th century cane up the side of my head. So… how's Neil?"
"Ah, he's fine. In Saigon with Kris. UPI or somethin'. He's taken some good shots, I got some in my office." Jake said. Diego did a double take.
"You… have an office?" He asked, incredulous.
"Sure do." Jake affirmed. Not much, but I at least have my own room. And, don't worry. I got room for you. Our guest quarters smell like donkey piss. Can't put Mr. JAG through all that." He explained, openly teasing a superior Officer. Though, through the light hearted banter that only old friends such as they could share, Jake's hands never loosened on the steering wheel.
Clearing his throat, Diego finally used a command tone. "Alright, Lieutenant Marshall. What do you know?" He requested, not leaving much room for anything but a straight answer. Blinking, Jake answered.
"Not a lot, Sir. Rumors passed along from the other pilots and the field Hospitals. Nothing direct." The pilot explained. The lawyer nodded. "Supposedly Central Command rounded up the crazies, ya know, the kind who do excel at combat but fail every part of the Psych test, made them an 'elite unit' and just turned 'em loose."
Diego suddenly understood why Stickler had seemed like a poltergeist was about.
"And Engarde?" Diego asked, cracking his knuckles. Jake rolled his neck.
"He's in charge. Rumor has it he's the craziest thing in Asia since Genghis Khan. He and his platoon are just a rolling snuff film." Jake drawled, his choice of comparison eerie.
"Right then, what's the hard evidence?" Diego asked, looking straight ahead.
"What do ya mean, Sir?" Jake responded, slowing down a little.
"I mean, I wouldn't be here unless someone had found something." Armando explained, for the first time wondering how much was being withheld from him.
Jake pushed his tongue around his mouth. "I've…umm… been ordered not to explain too much until we get there."
"Get where?" Diego asked, sitting up.
"To the meeting." Jake answered. "Trust me, Diego. I am as clueless as you. I've just been assigned to be your shadow on this." He explained. Diego, despite his reservations, nodded and leaned back into his seat, content to simply wait and see.
As the Jeep continued to wind around the various dirt roads, the two finally accepted the disturbing atmosphere in which they had been reluctantly dropped. As they came upon the base's version of a traffic jam, Diego pushed his hat over his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
"Wake me when we get there." He mumbled, suddenly realizing that civilian life must never again be taken for granted. Jake chuckled.
"When was the last time you fell asleep next to me?" The pilot asked.
"………This really isn't the place for that, Jakey." Diego replied Jake chuckled as Diego drifted off to some much needed sleep.
