Tango

By
Wrath of Magneto

“Tango in the courtyard,” Captain McKinley said as we approached from the southeast. We stuck to the shadows, moving only when we were sure no one was looking, making as little sound as possible. Everything was riding on us, if we failed, the entire operation would collapse. This was the biggest operation that I, Darren Ford Jr., had ever been a part of, and it was an honor to work with Captain McKinley.

I took aim, looking down the scope mounted on the top of my M40 sniper rifle. The target was actually pretty far away, but through the scope it was as if he was right in front of the barrel.

“I’ve got a shot,” I said, waiting for confirmation.

“Wait, there’s another on the rooftop,” he said. “Don’t fire until I get into position.”

I didn’t need to look at the rooftop, I trusted Captain McKinley. He’d been going on these kinds of missions since I was in high school.

“I’m in position, take the shot when you’re ready,” he said.

I kept the target in my sight and held my breath. My finger tightened on the trigger, gently increasing pressure. Didn’t want to jerk the trigger back and cause the shot to go wide.

The rifle jumped in my hands, and then I lowered it. There was hardly any sound, the suppressor muffled most of it. Almost immediately after the bullet left the barrel I heard another soft sound from Captain McKinley’s position.

I saw the spray of red as the Tango I’d been targeting crumpled to the ground. I heard the faint clatter of his machine gun as it hit the pavement alongside his body.

A few seconds later the body of the second Tango landed in the grass in front of the building he’d been posted on.

“Good night,” Captain McKinley said as the Tango hit the ground.

Tango is a code word, Like Charlie. It basically means terrorist, but it’s been adapted to mean any kind of enemy.

Captain McKinley gave the signal to move forward, and we headed toward the courtyard.

Days earlier, command had received word that a high profile terrorist was holed up somewhere in the area. The Intel they’d intercepted said that the terrorist, who had been coordinating several attacks using suicide bombing was spotted when attempting to sell weapons to a local warlord. He’d brought with him a small force, most of whom were trained bodyguards. Command didn’t want to risk a large operation on such a small chance of getting the terrorist, so they sent in Captain McKinley and I. I just couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could relax for a few days back at base.

My thoughts drifted to Nelson. Nelson Wyatt, another member of our unit. He was everything to me. We’d been together for years, since before joining the service. We signed up together. I knew I had to get through this, if only to see his smiling face once more. To feel his soft lips brushing against mine, to feel the love I have for him, returned like a dazzling ray of light.

“Get a move on, Sergeant! You daydreaming?” he said, shaking me from my thoughts.

I looked up, and saw that the captain was nearing the courtyard, almost a full three yards ahead of me. I moved forward to catch up.

I don’t know what was wrong with me. I’d been doing this kind of work for a few years now. I was far from green. It wasn’t like me to just space out like that, especially in the middle of an operation.

We reached the building, what at one time might have been a hotel or apartment building, but was now nothing more than a shell of its former self. Most of the windows had been broken out and the wall in the southeast corner had collapsed, probably from a small explosive. This area obviously had seen a lot of action.

I shouldered my rifle and pulled out my M9 Beretta pistol as Captain McKinley carefully opened the door to the building.

It was deserted, but there were signs of a recent firefight. Dust hung in the air, making translucent columns of light where the sun peeked into the windows. Broken glass crunched underfoot as I followed Captain McKinley to the backdoor. There were bullet holes spattered all over the door, a sure sign that someone had used the door for cover.

He gently nudged the door open, making as little sound as possible. The field beyond was clear, no signs of anyone in the premises. I holstered my pistol, which I had found to be of better use in small enclosed areas, but for outside combat, nothing comes close to my rifle. The weight of it felt good to be back in my hands.

“Alright, on my mark we make for the bushes,” McKinley said. “There’s no cover between us and them, so haul ass.”

“Got it,” I said, preparing for what was little more than a mad dash across a field with the possibility of having our faces blown off. My muscles tightened, as if they were springs ready to launch me as fast as I could go. Cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach, but that was nothing new. It was so ingrained in me by now that it would have been strange not to have felt the fear and tension settle inside me.

“Three…” he said, holding up three gloved fingers. My knees bent slightly, and I raised up onto the balls of my feet.

“Two…” he said, lowering a finger. I tightened my grip on my rifle.

“One…” he said, holding up the last finger for a second, then returning his hand to his own rifle.

“Now!” he exclaimed, and took off ahead of me. He exited through the door, then pressed up against the building. I left the building and spun around to check the rooftop above us.

“Clear!” I said, and he took point position, running for the bushes off in the distance. Just beyond them was another small building, like a shed or some type of storage building. Beyond that was the building the terrorist was spotted in.

We stayed low, almost crouching as we hurried for the only cover available. It’s moments like these that really get your adrenaline pumping. Knowing that at any moment we could both be killed, that with a stroke of bad luck it would all be over. Another statistic. Another soldier killed in action.

We’d cleared half the distance now, and it looked as if we were going to make it unharmed. My overworked muscles were groaning, but my training let me ignore the pain, to use it as fuel. Nearly there now. Just a few more meters.

I saw the spray of red from Captain McKinley’s shoulder before I heard the report of the shot. I spun and crouched low to the ground, scanning around the general area where the shot was fired from.

A glint of light gave his position away. Without so much as a second thought I brought the barrel of my rifle around, looked through the scope, and dropped him like a sack of potatoes. He appeared to be alone, but I knew that he wasn’t, and I’d have to move quickly to get myself and Captain McKinley to safety.

I rushed to Captain McKinley’s side, and rolled him over onto his back.

“How bad is it?” I asked, still scanning the area.

“Bad,” he said, his voice sounding choked. I looked back down at him, and saw that the bullet had hit him right below his shoulder muscle on the back of his right arm, and exited through the front. It had damn near torn his arm clean off. He was bleeding profusely.

I pulled him up by his left arm and put it around my neck. I made for the bushes as fast as I could, and when I finally got there, I saw at the bottom of the hill there was a small abandoned storage shed. I hauled ass to get there before we were spotted, and rushed inside, slamming the door behind us.

The shack wouldn’t make for good cover for very long. Through the cracks and holes in the walls, I had a pretty good view all around us. There didn’t seem to be anyone back the way we’d come, but ahead of us, in the area where Intel said the terrorist was supposed to be, I saw not much more than ruins of buildings, and a unit of Tangos, tightly grouped and sweeping out in a search pattern. We were the prey.

I grabbed the radio off of Captain McKinley’s back.

“Big Bird, this is Echo-Two, need extraction ASAP,” I said into it. There was a pause on the other end.

“I read you, Echo-Two, has the mission been compromised?” a gruff voice answered.

“Affirmative,” I said. “We’re pinned down. Echo-One is injured, and if he doesn’t get attention soon he isn’t going to make it.”

“Ten-four,” he said. “Sending bird in for extraction in five.”

“Copy,” I said.

“Basically he says sit with our thumbs up our asses and hope we don’t get killed before they get here,” Captain McKinley said, chuckling. “How many of them?”

“I count seven,” I told him. They were still pretty far away, but were getting closer. They were walking slowly, and scanning everything thoroughly. They were highly trained. I crossed the little shack, and looked through a bullet hole toward where we came from.

“Shit,” I said. “Five more.”

“Wonderful,” Captain McKinley said.

I stepped away from the hole and looked down at him.

“If we don’t make it, it’s been an honor, sir,” I said, meaning every word.

“The honor was mine,” he said, smiling. “You’re the best sniper I've seen in ten years, even if you are a Nancy-boy.”

My mouth dropped open and I stared at him in shock. “Huh?” I said, dumbfounded.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “You ain’t the first one I've seen, you know.”

“Big Bird to Echo-Two,” came the voice over the radio. “Mark the extraction zone with green smoke.”

“Copy,” I said. My stomach dropped. If I opened the door, we’d be spotted for sure.

Captain McKinley pulled out his pistol with his left hand, and checked the magazine.

“This is it then,” he said. “Open the door and throw it, I’ll give you cover fire.”

I pulled the smoke grenade off my pack, and took hold of the handle of the door. I knew I was going to die. Absolutely knew it with every fiber of my being, but also knew I had to try.

“One…” I counted, calming myself for the massacre I knew was imminent.

“Two…” I said, tightening my grip on the handle. I crouched down low so that Captain McKinley had a clear shot over my head.

“THREE!” I yelled as I threw the door open and lobbed the grenade. I heard the report of Captain McKinley’s pistol as he took out three of them. Then the smoke was too thick to follow them as they dove for cover.

I went to the other side of the shack and used the butt of my rifle to make a hole big enough to see through in the thin wooden wall. They looked confused, getting up from where they’d dived for cover. I took out two before they’d had a chance to regroup.

Finally, mercifully, I heard the sound of the helicopter. It was close, and I thought to myself that we actually might have a chance. I had another of them in my sights, ready to fire, as he caught sight of the helicopter. He ran. I looked up, out of the scope and saw the rest of them were following his lead. They didn’t make it far.

The mini-gun tore them apart in a matter of seconds.

The helicopter touched down, and I helped Captain McKinley make the run to safety. Two soldiers exited the chopper, providing cover fire for us. As I got close, I saw that one of them was Nelson, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Damn am I glad to see you, Nelson!” I shouted over the roar of the engine. I rushed inside and strapped Captain McKinley in.

* * * * * * * * * *

The operation was doomed from the get-go, as I found out later. The source that provided the Intel was working with the terrorist, who was never actually there. The arms deal went down in another location while we were focused on the wrong spot.

It happens sometimes. We nearly get slaughtered, and the higher ups say, “oh well.” At least I’d gotten a medal and a promotion out of the deal. Apparently they like it when a soldier protects his injured Captain and gets him to safety, fighting off hordes of vicious bloodthirsty terrorists. The way they made it sound, I’d singlehandedly fought my way through legions of enemies while carrying the Captain on my back.

Truth was, if it weren't for him, my face likely would have been blown off. But he wasn’t saying anything to correct anyone. He found it hilarious watching me squirm.

It was a week before Nelson and I had a chance to be alone again, even if it was only for a few minutes in an empty bathroom. But we’d learned to take what we could get.

I’d just left the briefing room where I’d learned that in the next few days our unit was likely to be sent in, in force this time, not a recon mission. We needed to neutralize this threat before it had a chance to escalate any further. Nelson was waiting for me just down the hall, by the bathroom. As I approached, he smiled at me. He held out his hand, as if to give me a handshake. Confused, I went along with it, shaking his hand. He’d put a note in my hand.

Releasing my hand, he winked at me, turned, and strode away. He walked down the hall, to the stairs, and descended, occasionally looking back over his shoulder and smiling. When he was out of sight, I opened up the folded piece of paper and read the note.

“Meet me in room 113 down on the first floor. I know the guy on watch, so he’s made sure it’ll be vacant for the next few hours.”

Room 113 was in the medical wing, so it would definitely have a bed inside. I knew it was risky, but after the ordeal I just went through, and was surely going to be going through in the next few days, I needed some time to relax. There wouldn’t be an opportunity like this again before the next mission, so regardless of the danger, I decided to take it.

I walked down the hall, tracing Nelson’s steps until I reached the stairs. I looked over the railing, but didn’t see anyone below me. I walked around to the top of the stairs, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then descended them to the first floor.

I found Nelson, after a bit of searching, in front of the door labeled “113”. When I got to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

He pushed me against the door, aggressively attacking my mouth with his, forcing me to submit to the will of his tongue.

After an eternity I pulled away.

“God, I’ve missed this,” I whispered. He smiled, and moved in for another round. I grabbed him by the shoulders and moved him over to the bed, where I laid down on top of him, kissing all the way. I couldn’t tell you how long we remained that way, our lips, tongues, passions locked together in a fervent embrace.

The door opened and Nelson kicked me away from him. About a second too late.

“What in the hell is going on here?” roared Captain Stevens, who would be taking Captain McKinley’s place in the coming engagement. “It seems Private Gordon was right to come to me about this.”

“I can explain!” I hurriedly said, knowing full well there was absolutely no way I would be getting out of this one.

“He forced himself on me!” Nelson shouted, turning my blood cold. “Caught me by surprise and threw me on the bed!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Nelson, my lover since long before we went off to war, had just turned on me to save himself. I looked into his eyes and saw a wild pleading in them. He was always terrified to be outed. His family were highly religious, and would never accept him. He also knew that if he was dishonorably discharged, he’d never be able to get a good job again. Getting kicked out of the military doesn’t look good on any job application.

“Is this true?” Stevens asked me.

I looked back in Nelson’s eyes. I know he was sorry. But that didn’t change what he’d done. There was no going back now.

I didn’t say a word. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Stevens had me convicted already and there’s no way I’d be able to convince him otherwise.

“You make me sick,” he snarled at me.

* * * * * * * * * *

The trial came and went without much fanfare. No one came to speak as a witness in my behalf at the trial, and with the huge lack of evidence in my favor, I was stripped of the medal they gave me for saving Captain McKinley’s life and dishonorably discharged.

I fought as hard as I could to at least keep the medal I’d won, but in the end, there was nothing I could do. They argued that since Captain McKinley was so injured, he might have been delusional, and my deception threw my recounting of the events into doubt. It was bullshit, and they all knew it, but it didn’t matter much in the end as no one on the jury was sympathetic to me. I found out later that Captain McKinley tried to be there, to show his support of me at the trial, but his doctors had refused to let him leave the infirmary.

I returned home in shame, and the majority of my family wouldn’t talk to me, much less take me in. I’d gone to my parent’s house first, but the truth of what had happened had reached them already, and after a long screaming match that I wont recount here, they slammed the door in my face. I ended up sleeping on my uncle’s couch, looking through the want ads every day, trying to find a place that wanted to hire a college dropout who had no discernable skills except killing terrorists. After the third straight week of this, flipping burgers was starting to look good.

It’s funny to me, the way this world works. In the military, if you kill some men, you become a hero and get a medal. If you love a man, you become a pariah and have your medals stripped away. My reward for what was essentially murder was to be hailed as a hero, and my reward for loving someone was to be treated like the enemy.

I would later find out that Private Gordon, the man who alerted Captain Stephens that Nelson and I were in that room was the man who was on watch in the area, and therefore the man who Nelson had placed his faith into. Nelson hadn't told him what he’d planned to use the room for, so all he got in trouble for was unauthorized use of a medical room. A slap on the hand, and he returned to service.

It’s now been five years since I returned home, and I’ve basically settled into my life. I’m going to school part-time while working full-time at a corner pharmacy to pay for it. Look at me. From war hero to stock boy. Who would have thought?

I’d just finished stocking the adult diapers and maxi-pads when I heard the little “ding” that signals when someone has entered the store.

“Lieutenant Wyatt! So good to see you! Are you on leave?” my manager, Mr. Dempsey asked the new arrival. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Lieutenant? From my position at the back of the store I couldn’t see the front door at all, but surely it must be a different Wyatt.

“Yeah, I’m on leave for the holiday,” Nelson’s unmistakable voice said. Anger I hadn't felt in five years flared up in the pit of my stomach, and it took everything I had not to run up there and start screaming at him.

“Who’s the lovely young lady?” Mr. Dempsey asked, and my anger boiled over into fury. I started moving. I couldn’t help myself.

“This is my fiancée, Alyssa Porter, and I love her more than life itself.”

“Funny, I remember hearing that somewhere before,” I said as I came into view. Nelson’s head snapped around and looked me in the eyes. His face went ghostly white.

“Darren…”

“Oh yes, that’s right, how silly of me! You used to tell me that all the time!”

His fiancée looked simply aghast. Obviously he’d neglected to mention a few things when he conned her into dating him.

“Darren! How dare you speak to such a high profile customer like that! Lieutenant Wyatt is a war hero!” Mr. Dempsey scolded me with a look that said I’d offended him in a major way.

“Hero?” I shouted. “What’s he ever done that was so heroic? Aside from stab his friend, teammate, and boyfriend in the back?”

“I won’t stand here and listen to these accusations!” Mr. Dempsey shouted. “This man once saved my cousin Jack McKinley’s life!”

I stared hard into Nelson’s eyes. In them I saw nothing but a scared, quivering child, and I just simply didn’t have any pity left for him. I glanced over at his fiancée.

“I’m telling the truth. Look at him, you know it’s true.”

She looked at Nelson and knew by the look on his face that it was true.

I unclipped my nametag and threw it at Mr. Dempsey. “Call your cousin and ask him what really happened that day. Ask him who really saved his life.”

I walked out of the store, turning my back on Nelson the way he’d turned his back on me. As I walked away, a tightness in my chest that seemed to have been with me since that day we’d gotten caught felt as though it’d loosened. Like there were a few less chains restricting my movements.

As I fled into the warm spring afternoon, I knew this little triumph wouldn’t mean a whole lot in the grand scheme of things. Maybe I’d changed one person’s mind, maybe two. To the rest of the town I was still that military reject who couldn’t hold down a job, and I would never forgive Nelson for that. There are some betrayals of trust, some deep and terrible pains that I knew I would never be able to fully escape.

© 2008 Wrath of Magneto

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