Part II: 2009

 

Part II: 2009 

Samson 

“Anything else, Samson?” Stec asks me. 

“Nah, Jim, I don’t think- tequila!” 

“I’ll try.” 

“If not, rum is fine.” 

“Come on, Harry.” Harry follows him and they and a few others, head into town to get supplies. 

“You sure we can just go into town and get stuff? Especially after what happened last week?” Leo asks. 

“Yeah, man. They’re just civilians. We wiped out that cell, remember?” I assure him. 

“Yeah, but there could still be leftover remnants.” 

“They’ll be fine, you worry too much.” 

“I just want-” 

“Yeah, I know, you just want to kill them all.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“It wouldn’t be, if you were just talking about the bad guys.” 

“But we’d be preventing future bad guys.” I roll my eyes. “No, listen. Hear me out. Ok, so little Mohammed is being held hostage by some jihads or whatever and we take them out, ok?” 

“We just saved a kid’s life.” 

“Yeah, don’t interrupt. So, turns out one of the guys who held him hostage was like, his uncle or something and he only found out after the fact. Then he grows up, becomes a terrorist to avenge his family with all the other little a******s we saved that day. Then we have another 9/11 and it’s all our fault because we could have prevented it by wiping them all out now.” 

“That’s sick. What are even the chances of that happening anyway?” 

“1,000 to 1”. Seth, a nerdy computer geek answers. 

“See? Do you really want to take that chance?” Leo asks. 

“Those seem like pretty good odds to me.” I answer. 

“Just you watch, it’ll be a mistake.” 

“I hope you’re wrong, I really do.” 

“Watch, in another 20 years, it’s going to happen again, but with another country.” 

“So what’s the point of killing all of these people if it’ll just be another country doing it?” 

“That’s what I’m saying. Over time, we’ll kill all of the terrorists by country or area or whatever. Wipe out the middle east now, and when the Chinese or Korean or maybe African government attacks us, we wipe them out too. Before you know it, America will be the only country left, and we’ll take over every country and every continent will just be America. United States worldwide.” He gets a gleam in his eye and smiles. 

“Dude, you have some pretty fucked up ideas.” 

“One day I’ll be right, what then? You’re going to tell me sorry and I’ll laugh. F**k it, I don’t care how old I’ll be, I’ll reenlist just to kill more of these b******s.” 

“I think you just like killing.” 

“So what if I do? At least it’s for a good cause.” 

“War is never a good cause.” 

“We’re defending our country, I think it’s a good enough cause.” 

“Yeah, well, I wish we didn’t have to die to do it.” 

“Somebody has to.” 

“But that’s the thing, nobody has to. Not us, not the people who died in the attack, not the people who attacked us, nobody. Death isn’t the way to solve things.” 

“Listen to you, you sound like a goddamn hippie. P***y.” 

“What’s wrong with having value for human life?” 

“You’re too soft, that’s why you ran, you’re f*****g soft, Samson.” 

“Bullshit, I killed five people last week!” 

“I lost count after 15.” 

“Now I know you’re lying.” 

“You’re right, because I have been keeping count. I’ve killed 117 people total since I’ve been here. Hope to have at least 5000 by the time I’m done.” 

“5000? Doesn’t that seem a little unrealistic?” 

“Not if I kill them in clumps.” 

“How many people do you think you’ll kill at a time?” 

“Hopefully, like 50. Trucks, bases, anything I can blow the f**k up with a rocket.” 

“You enjoy it way too much.” 

“Or maybe you enjoy it too little. Come on, man. How often are you allowed to legally kill? Here and if you’re a pig. That’s it, and I hate pigs so I’d never be one. Here I can kill who I want, and it’s alright, cause it’s in the name of freedom.” 

“How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“Turn something so heinous and make it sound justifiable?” 

“Because I’m right, always have been.” 

“Leesten, I loff to kill too.” Francios says. “I agree zat it has to be for ze right reasons. Let me ask you some questions, Leo.” 

“Sure.” 

“Ok, so we are in town and terrorists hold a child ‘ostazch. What do you do?” 

“Spray. Hit all of em.” 

“Ok, we are een America, and a white child is ‘eld ‘ostazch. What do you do?” 

“Spray the terrorists, save the kid.” 

“What if eet was Fronce?” 

“Same deal.” 

“Black child een same zituation.” 

“In America?” 

“Oui.” 

“Same deal.” 

“Afreeca?” 

“Oh, you mean like those Somalia pirates?” 

“Oui.” 

“Spray ‘em all.” 

“An Arab child een America. Born in America, raised, wealthy parents with no terrorist ties.” 

“F**k ‘em, I’ll spray em all too, I’ll even throw in the parents as a bonus.” 

“Zo you are racist then, eh?” 

“No! Well, maybe. I f*****g hate sand n*****s.” 

“’Ave you always ‘ated Arabs?” 

“No, I don’t think so, I started hating them once September 11 happened. Remember that day, Samson?” 

“Yeah, I remember it was a pretty good day, we didn’t have to do any schoolwork that day, all we did was bullshit while everyone else watched the news.” 

“Isn’t it funny how you said you weren’t going to be here cause it wasn’t your problem?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Just saying, man. Acting all heartless like you don’t care and here you are.” 

“I don’t want to be.” 

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You’re here out of obligation. Surprised you haven’t ‘accidentally gotten injured’ and gone home. Or, you could be like Tyler and end it now.” 

“Are you f*****g insane?” 

“Possibly, I haven’t ruled it out. But seriously, you’re a joke.” 

“Can we not fight? Why do you always have to start a fight?” 

“Sorry man, the heat’s getting to me, I’m getting a headache.” Kate pokes her head into the tent.  

“Paulus, Matusick, Stec, and Lutz are back. Help unload.” She tells us. Me, Leo, and Francios leave the tent and start grabbing supplies. We finish and all head back into the tent. 

“Gotta piss.” Harry says. 

“Me too, it was a long ride.” Chuck agrees. They leave the tent, and I’m looking for my booze but can’t find it. I don’t know where Jim Stec went, probably in the medical tent with Lisa. So, I go to the medical tent and find Stec talking to Lisa. 

“Yo, Stec.” I say. 

“Hey Alpha.” Jim replies. 

“What did you happen to get for me?” 

“Well, they didn’t have your first two choices, so I’m hoping bourbon will do.” 

“As long as it gets me drunk.” 

“Remember, you can buzzed, but not trashed.” Lisa says. 

“I know, I know.” 

“No, you don’t every time you drink you tend to overdo it.” 

“That’s cause I always feel like I need to top off my buzz just a little more, just a little more, ya know?” 

“Then you shouldn’t drink if you can’t drink responsibly.” 

“Fine, how about I leave my booze with you and you give me an amount that I can have for the night?” 

“Fine. Gimme the bottle.” I hand her the bourbon that Stec had just given me. She takes an extra thermos, fills it halfway, then gives it to me. 

“That’s it?” 

“Make it last.” She says with a smile as she puts my bottle in a cabinet. I take a reasonable swig to jumpstart my buzz, and head outside. I see something small heading towards us, and as it got closer, I noticed it was a child running. As Harry is leaving the porta-john, the child jumps up, hugs his neck, and explodes. His head landed next to me. Tiffany and Kait run out of the tent to see what had happened. I ran inside and grabbed my gun. 

“What the f**k happened?” Kait yells. I run back out. 

“Suicide bomb kid jumped and hugged his head off.” 

“Hugged his head off?” 

“He jumped up, hugged his neck, and exploded.” 

“Which direction?” 

“What?” 

“Which direction did he come from?” 

“East.” 

“Let’s go!” Me and the squad charged east into the desert where there was a very small group of terrorists running in the direction of town. I spray and prayed but I only hit one guy. Leo, being faster than me blew away three in one spray. Kait got two down, and Francios picked off the last one. “Almedia to base, come pick us up, I’m out of breath.” 

“Why- why didn’t we- why didn’t we just jump into a rover and chase ‘em that way?” I ask between breaths. 

“Cause I knew- I knew they had to be close, one of them had a detonator. He had to have seen what was happening to know when to activate it.” She responds. 

“How did they even find us?” My buzz was gone, and I dropped my thermos in the confusion.  

“They probably followed us when we left town. We’re going to have to relocate immediately, we’ve been compromised.” So, when we finally got back to base, we cleaned up, and set out to new coordinates. As we’re riding in the Humvee, I feel a tap on my shoulder and see Lisa passing me my bottle of bourbon. 

“I thought you said-” 

“Yeah, well, considering what happened today, you could use it.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

“No problem. You mind sharing?” 

“Nah, go ahead.” I take a swig and pass it to her. “To Harry.” 

“To Harry.” We reach and set up our new base and send the coordinates to our superiors. Me, Leo, and Francios couldn’t sleep, so we volunteered to stand guard. I put my bourbon away, I needed to be responsible. I wasn’t that wasted, my buzz was just a little stronger than it was before I had to go charging into the desert. Leo starts laughing. 

“Dude, what’s so funny? I ask him. 

“I was right, dude. I was so right. Take out the kids too. I was f*****g right.” He laughs even harder. 

“Dude, it’s not funny! Harry died today.” 

“What’s that saying? It’s funny cause it’s true? I was right, and that’s why it’s funny to me. If I had been out there, and I saw that kid running, I would have capped him right there. Speaking of which, where were you two when that happened? Francios, you’re our sniper, you should have had that handled.” 

“’E was not in my line of sight, I was facing west at ze time.” 

“How about you, Samson? You said you saw him running towards us. Why didn’t you shoot him?” 

“I- he was just a kid, I didn’t think-” 

“Exactly, you didn’t think. Your mistake cost Harry his life.” 

“I- I- uh...” 

“Well? It's like I said, take them all out.” 

“NO! Just because that kid was possibly brainwashed, or forced to do that, doesn’t mean he deserved to die too.” 

“YES IT F*****G DOES! They killed our people, Samson! If kids can bomb us too, then that’s it. All bets are off.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“I don’t care if it’s a kid, a naked woman, a towel head, if they’re not f*****g American, they’re dead before they reach us. Just tell me someone’s coming and I’ll blow them away so you don’t piss yourself thinking about what you should do while the next guy is getting blown up.” 

“F**k you.” I go back inside, down the rest of my bourbon, and pass out. 

Luxor 

I really enjoy my job, now. This was the challenge I was looking for. Not only can I figure out how they did it, but I can tell you who and why as well. I outwit all of the suspects during interrogation and have a one hundred percent closure rate. Do not be fooled, it is not every day I have a murder or suicide, so when I get bored, I solve cold cases. They are a little more challenging, I will admit. But that is part of the fun, I look forward to the challenge since I was not the one that originally did the investigation. Got a call today, an apparent suicide. Man, I hate the easy ones, like I said, I like figuring out. Me and Stanley get in the car and head towards the house of the suicide. “I hate suicides.” I say to Stanley. 

“Yeah, it’s sad when someone kills themselves.” 

“No, not that, I could not care less, actually. Not being able to figure it out is what upsets me.” 

“You mean you like doing all that work?” 

“I live for it, it enthralls me.” 

“You’re out of your f****n’ mind.” 

“No, I am being serious.” 

“See, that’s what makes you the perfect partner, you do all the leg work.” 

“You have done enough in your lifetime, let me take the wheel, so to speak.” 

“If you wanna drive too, by all means.” 

“No, I possibly cannot, my vision is too poor.” 

“Eh, you’ll be fine, you’ve got those crazy thick glasses, you should be able to see everything.” 

“And I can, but super magnified, so it is easy to misjudge distance.” 

“You’d always better have a partner, then.” 

“I understand that as much as I would like to work by myself, it is only logical that I work with a partner, as I have a few disadvantages that would hinder my progress.” 

“Know what? I ain’t complainin’. We’re here.” We get out of the car, and walk over to the house. “10 bucks says it’s a hanger.” 

“You must stop gambling, Stanley, it is getting worse.” 

“S**t, is it that obvious?” He knocks. 

“Most obvious, Jones.” A short, stocky woman with round glasses opens the door. 

“He’s upstairs.” she says. 

“What happened here?” I ask her. 

“I dunno, I was down here.” 

“Thank you, Miss...” 

“Zoob.” 

“Zoob.” Stanley and I went upstairs and walked into a bloody scene: on the bed was a young man lying on his back with a hole in the side of his head and a gun in his hand. Two other women, a tall, overweight woman with long, curly hair and glasses, and a short, skinny woman with long, straight blonde hair and glasses walk into the room, covered in blood. “Stop betting, Stanley. So, can someone tell us what happened? First of all, I’d like to know his name.” I ask the women. The taller one, who was apparently crying, spoke up first. 

“His- his name is- is- Jack Walker. He- he just- he shot himself.” She says in between sobs. 

“And your name is...?” 

“Sandra. Sandra Zircon.” 

“What is your relationship to the deceased?” 

“He was my boy- my boyfriend.” 

“Why did he shoot himself in the head?” 

“He- he wanted to one up me.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“We, um, had a competition to um, be the ‘bigger man’ so to speak.” 

“That is just bizarre.” 

“How did that lead to him shooting himself?” Stanley asks. 

“He knew I’d ever agree to play Russian Roulette and he wanted to show he was better than me by playing and winning. He just couldn’t accept that I wasn’t his slave, someone he could mind control. I even forfeited as soon as he brought it up but he just had to have his way.” She says. She stares at the body. “His last words were, ‘I won’. Then he smiled and pulled the trigger. 

“How bout you, lady?” Stanley says to the blonde. “How do you fit in to all this?” 

“I- I just watched, I didn’t play. My boyfriend did, but I didn’t.” 

“Boyfriend? Where is he?” 

“I’m assuming you mean the one that ran. Yeah, he left the minute this guy blew his brains out.” 

“How do you know the deceased.” 

“He was my boyfriend.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Turns out he was with both of us at the same time.” 

“What a lucky b*****d, and he just throws it all away.”   

“Pig.” 

“And you are...?” 

“Janis Walker.” 

“Ok, thank you Ms. Walker.”   

“And you’re positive it was a suicide?” I ask the women, with a stern look in my eye. 

“Yes! We didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking!” Sandra says. 

“You both have motive.” 

“Check our hands and his hands. He did it.” So, I break out my travel kit, swab everything and collect all of the evidence I need, and clear the medics to take the body. 

“Where did he get the gun?” I ask. 

“Some guy gave it to him.” 

“What is some guy’s name?” 

“I don’t remember, do you?” She asks Janis. 

“Yeah, Zakk. He’s a drug dealer that my boyfriend Sydd buys from.” Janis says. 

“Interesting.” I remark. “And where is he?” 

“I don’t know where he lives.” 

“Do you know his last name?” 

“Nope, just Zakk.” 

“Ok, I will look into it. Here is the number of a therapist you two can talk to, and here is my card if you remember something else.” Me and Stanley hand the girls cards, and we depart the house. “I want to check out this Zakk fellow.” I tell Stanley as we get into the car. 

“Of course ya do.” He says. 

“We just have to figure out who he is first.” We get to the station and I immediately get on the computer and do a search and come up with 1,247 hits. Then, I checked who had gun permits, who had records, known drug dealers, and in the area of the suicide house. I printed out a list, and Stanley and I went house to house, until one in particular really seemed to bother me, I knew he was lying, but I could not prove it because the gun in question isn’t registered to him, but other guns are. I knocked on his door, and a tall, skinny guy with a thick beard and long, dark brown hair answers. 

“Sup?” He asks. 

“Zakk Philips?” I ask. 

“Who’s asking?” He answers. 

“Homicide.” We flash our badges. “Do you own a .44 magnum?” 

“Nah, man.” 

“Well, your fingerprints were also found on one that was used in a suicide, know anything about that?” 

“Nah, man, just been here all day, chilling with my homies.” I take a whiff. 

“Smoking marijuana? That could give us probable cause.” 

“Look man, we’re not hurting anyone. Besides, if you look me up, you’ll see that I don’t have a .44 magnum registered to me at all.” 

“So how did your fingerprints end up on it?” 

“How do you have my fingerprints?” 

“Your failed attempt at the military.” 

“F**k! I forgot about that.” 

“So, how did your fingerprints end up on the gun?” 

“Alright, so I was at this tattoo party earlier and the dude let me hold it. Alright, I swear I didn’t know he was gonna kill himself.” 

“So you admit you were there at the party.” 

“Got some sweet ink though.” He lifts up his pant leg, showing off a new tattoo. 

“That is interesting, because witnesses say you gave HIM the gun. 

“Look, everyone was wasted, people probably saw something different cause they were so fucked up.” 

“So, you claim he just... let you hold it?” I say skeptically. 

“Yeah, dude. I admire guns, I think they’re cool, of course I wanted to check out a magnum, those things are sweet.” 

“If you say so.” 

“Anything else, fellas?” 

“No, no, that will be all.” 

“Have a nice day.” He closes the door. 

“He is lying.” 

“Ya think?” Stanley asks. 

“I do, but I need to prove it.” 

“How are ya gonna do that?” 

“Find out who the gun is registered to, and hopefully they can shed some light as to what happened.” We go back to the station, and I go to the evidence locker, and look up the serial number for the gun. “Damn.” 

“What’s the matter?” Stanley asks. 

“It’s completely unregistered.” 

“Look, you can’t nail him, just let it go, it’s a suicide.” 

“Fine.” I hate admitting defeat, but legally, I cannot take this any further. I cannot prove that Zakk is the owner or if Jack was the owner. I do not like it, but I will have to accept it.  Another case closed, I suppose. 

“Watcha doin’ after work?” Stanley asks me. 

“Going home, why?” 

“Come to the bar with me.” 

“I do not wish to imbibe alcohol.” 

“You don’t hafta drink, I’d just like the company. Come on, I’ll even pay for your soda. There’s someone I’d like ya to meet.” 

“Fine.” We leave the station and head to a local bar. 

“Hold on a sec.” Stanley says as he heads off into the crowd. Ugh, this place is so unsanitary. I did not even want to sit on the stool next to me. It was dark, it smelled like urine and alcohol, and I am pretty sure the bartender does not bathe. I took a tissue out of my pocket and used it as a filter to breathe through. I hope I do not have to stay very long. Stanley comes back with a short, skinny woman with large glasses and black hair. “This here, is Emily.” He gestures to the woman. 

“Hello, Emily, I am Luxor.” 

“Hello, Luxor, I am Emily.” She says, almost like how I said it. 

“Are you imitating me?” 

“Come on, loosen up, don’t be so stiff.” 

“I am sorry, I am completely disinterested.” 

“I- what? Why?” 

“You use contractions other than possessive nouns, it is an immediate turn off. Now if you will excuse me, I will be taking my leave.” I turn right around, head out the bar and go home. I simply do not have the energy or the time for a woman. Maybe when I am retired, but not now.