The dust trail in the distance grows closer and closer…rapidly. As Khalid's men take up rudimentary defensive positions around the village, I run over to a sand dune to get a better view of our attackers. Squinting as hard as I can against the bright sun, I'm able to make out a dingy white truck about five hundred yards away. The back is loaded with about six fighters and one more militiaman stands in the center of the bed manning a heavy machine gun.
Looking around the village, I see that Khalid's fighters are brave, but foolish. Each of the men stands boldly next to his own tent, ready to face down the enemy with assault rifle blazing. However, any real soldier looking at their tactics can instantly tell that they will be cut to pieces by the militia's machine gunner before they even have a chance to fight back.
"No, wonder these guys are losing this war," I think to myself angrily. "There's no reason for them to die. They outnumber the enemy almost four to one!"
I run down from the sand dune and try desperately to organize Khalid's men into some kind of effective group defense.
"You!" I say shouting at the man nearest to me. "Get over behind this sand dune!" He looks back with a mix of annoyance and confusion. I try acting out what I want him to do to get over the language barrier. "You, get down…put your rifle on the dune…" The exercise feels desperate and ridiculous at the same time. I get no response from him and the enemy grows ever closer.
Another burst of heavy machine gun fire slices through a tent on the outskirts of the encampment. I hear screams of terror from inside, but the bullets impact too high up on the walls to have hurt anyone standing inside. Still, the truck is now less than three hundred yards away. I run over to another one of Khalid's men and try to repeat my instructions, but his hand waves me away like a I'm a troublesome child.
"What is wrong with you people!" I start screaming. "Do you want to die?" Suddenly, I feel a firm hand grip my arm. I turn around to see Khalid's exasperated face.
"Please, Khalid," I try to reason with him. "Tell your men to listen to me."
"You must go back into the women's tent," he says half shouting and half begging. "We will fight off these bandits."
"I can help you," I say frustrated beyond all recognition. "Give me a rifle!"
"That's not possible," he says. I look out to see the truck has screeched to a halt a hundred yards from the edge of the tents. The machine gunner in the back continues to fire sporadic bursts while the fighters in the back dismount and begin running toward the village. They spread out to cause the maximum amount of chaos. Khalid's men open fire, but to no effect. "Go into the women's tent. You are under our protection which means you must honor our customs. A woman must never partake in bloodshed. It is against our code."
"Bullsh.t!" I scream out as I wrench my arm out of his grasp. "I'm a soldier which means I'm gonna fight!"
"Your people may consider you a soldier, but we do not. My men will not fight alongside a female, which means both you and many more will die unnecessarily. Go into the tent. If you must protect someone, protect the women." One of Khalid's men screams as a militia bullet tears through his leg. As two others drag him back to the safety of the tents, the others put up a desperate but hopeless defense. I can tell arguing with Khalid will only serve to delay his response to this attack even further. Without any more resistance, I do as he says.
"Fine, watch your tribe die then!" I say as I sprint towards the women's tent. As I reach the flap, I'm sickened that I will not be able to repay these people for saving my life by saving theirs in kind. When I'm safely inside, Khalid finally starts to rally his troops, but I can see they are still badly outmatched by the enemy firepower.
Inside, the dozen women who cared for me are huddled in a corner. Khalid's mother does what she can to calm them, but they still scream and shout in panic.
"Get away from the walls!" I shout to them. They all look to me, but I can tell they don't understand. "Get away from the walls, bullets can come through them and hit you. Lay down on the ground." I beckon them to come closer to me and start acting out what I want them to do. Thankfully, they finally understand and press themselves flat against the sand.
Once, I'm sure they're all safe, I turn my attention back to the battle outside. I stick my head out of the door and try to get a feel for what's going on. The dismounted militia members have fanned out through the tents and have started to engage Khalid's men in hand to hand combat. Thankfully, my new friends seem to be proficient enough to hold their own man to man, but the machine gunner and the truck still prevent them from gaining any real initiative. Every time they start to rally to push the fighters out, the machine gunner drives them back with targeted bursts. Throughout the entire village, I hear nothing but screams of pain and agony as good man after good man is injured or killed.
I grit my teeth with rage and grip the hickory handle of my hatchet so hard my knuckles turn white. I still cannot believe I'm letting this happen. It isn't right…it isn't right.
Suddenly, one of Khalid's men appears from around the corner of the nearest tent. He is locked in a struggle with a militia fighter a full head taller than him. They're less than ten yards away from the entrance to the women's tent. I hear an engine rev and see the truck with the machine gun zoom around behind them. The machine gunner takes a perfect bead on the pair.
From the bed of the truck, he yells something to his dismount who immediately knocks Khalid's man to the ground with his giant fist before backing away to give the automatic weapon the chance to deliver the death strike. The blow has knocked Khalid's man senseless. He is an easy target as he slowly picks himself to his feet, and I can tell that in just a second, the machine gun will slice him to pieces.
" this. It's time to get some!" My feet are running forward before my brain can tell them to move. After years of training, my body knows what to do without me having to ask. I slam into Khalid's man, knocking him safely to the sand just as a burst of heavy machine gun bullets cuts through the air right where he was standing. I push him towards a gap between two tents, spin around, and charge straight for the dismounted militiaman. He is so shocked at the sight of a blonde, fair-skinned woman appearing from nowhere, that he freezes just long enough for me to close the distance between us. By the time he begins to raise his rifle, it's already too late.
My left hand knocks his weapon to the dirt while the hatchet in my right slices it's razor sharp edge across his belly, instantly spilling his intestines onto the sand at his feet. He looks down in horror, but doesn't have long to consider his plight. I slash back around, planting the axe-head into his right temple. As the newly minted corpse collapses to the ground, I rip my hatchet out of its skull and tuck forward just a burst machine gun fire slices the air around me. I reach out and grab the fallen man's assault rifle and keep rolling back to my feet. I dash towards the truck, weaving left and right so the gunner can't get a good shot.
When I'm only about ten yards away, I let my favorite weapon fly. The hatchet spins end over end through the air before finding its target. It buries itself between the machine gunner's eyes with the sickening crunch of smashing bone.
The driver of the truck is in too much shock to move as I leap into the air and land in a crouch on the hood. He tenses and grips the steering wheel as I kneel down and point the muzzle of my assault rifle straight at him. Even though I can't see most of his face behind his head scarf, I can tell from his expression that he is frozen with fear. I lean forward, squeeze the trigger, and fire a burst straight through the windshield, dispatching the driver in a hail of merciless lead.
When he's dead, I jump to my feet, run over the roof of the cab, and leap into the bed. I throw the assault rifle to the ground because I don't need it anymore….I have the machine gun.
"This is for my men on the hovercraft, you sons of ," I say as my hand racks the charging handle and finds the trigger. I spin the barrel of the heavy weapon around on its stand and take aim at the militia member nearest to me. He's just turned a corner and still doesn't realize that his friends in the truck are no longer breathing. By the time he realizes that I now have the superior firepower, I'm already well on my way to turning him into a cloud of pink mist and a few chunks of meat with a deafening volley.
With the machine gun in my hands, Khalid's men rapidly take the advantage.. The militiamen are driven out of the interior of the encampment where one by one I terminate them with extreme prejudice. I feel my pulse quicken as the metal frame of the truck shakes with each slow thud of a firing round.
Finally, there is only one enemy left. He runs out directly in front of me and I aim right at his head. He and I both hear Khalid's fighters maneuvering closer and closer. I pause, wanting him to take a good look at my face. Just yesterday, this pirate was trying to make me a slave, but now, I will have the last laugh.
Just as Khalid and the rest of his forces round the corner of tents, I open fire, spewing a hot stream of slugs directly into the militiaman. By the time I release the trigger, there's not enough left of the pirate for a decent burial.
Khalid and the other tribesmen look on in total shock at the carnage I have wrought as I casually pull my hatchet from the cranium of the dead machine gunner and hop down from the back of the truck. I flick the blood from the weapon with a quick turn of my wrist and begin to walk towards them.
"What?" I say defiantly as I reach down to my right pants pocket. I sigh with relief as I feel my leather pouch is still there. I immediately pull it out and look inside.
"Dammit! I'm down to my last pinch." I think as I gather up the last bundle of tobacco leaves between my fingers and shove them into my cheek. Then I casually march straight up to Khalid and put my index finger right in his chest. His men literally gasp at the audacity. "That is why you should have had your men listen to me," I say moving my finger to the scattered remains of the vaporized militiaman. I then spit on the sand right next to him. The group standing behind the sheik all jump backwards but Khalid stands perfectly still.
I then push straight past him and walk through the middle of the stunned crowd of twenty men. They scatter like leaves in the wind as I head back towards the women's tent.
"They must make women different in your country," Khalid finally calls after me when his senses return, but I do not turn around to face him. Instead, I just keep walking, return my hatchet to its rightful place on my belt, and tersely reply
"No, they just don't stand in our way."