Shadow Wrought's Journal: [Serial Writing] Everywhere, Is the War (Part IV)

Start from Part I or Back to Part III

Walker looked around his seedy apartment. The floor was littered with fast food wrappers, an occasional pizza box, and empty bottles evenly distributed between Mountain Dew knockoffs and cheap Vodka. He was living the life of a ne'er do in a bad TV movie and knew it. Even though the debriefing had been four years before, its ramifications still haunted his waking hours. His sleeping hours were still the providence of his failure as opposed to the Army's.

Colonel Gunther, if that was even his real name, and the Army had found themselves in the bureaucratic equivilant of a Hobson's choice. The Air Force not only denied that an Ac-130 was flying that night, they had the documentation to show that the entire C-130 family had been grounded for 48 hours during that time for a wingspar inspection. (A Brit C-130K had broken up in flight over Sussex the earlier week causing the fleetwide inspection.) That left the Army with either acknowledging Walker as a bone fide Rambo- in which case he single handedly slaughtered a village of women and children, or one of their Spec/Ops teams had been destroyed by that same village of women and children while one of its members stood by, frozen. In the attempt to white-wash either embarrassment, Walker was dihonorably discharged but his file and the events were given the highest level of security classification. After all traces of a US presence in the valley were systematically destroyed, the village was simply forgotten about. NPR might might find it someday, but the Army made sure that they wouldn't find much.

What that meant for Walker was being dumped into civilian life with a huge blackmark, serious depression, and a family he struggled in relating to. The car accident had happened when he had just started turning the corner. Even though his wife's support had started to slack, two years of depression even wears down Saints, that rich asshole and his BMW had taken her and the kids from him in one fell swoop. He had been selling insurance for the same company that turned around hand screwed him after the accident. Now he was in food service and regretted turning turtle in the settlement fights. He hadn't even really put up a fight in the least, even though he could still remember when he had owned the world; when he made it answer to him, and not the other way around. But he could no longer remember how to do it. So he existed. Burying himself in a fog of booze, TV, and vain attempts at a good night's sleep. Existing, but only just.

The doorbell rang twice before he even recognized it for what it was- the pizza guys had stopped delivering to his building long before he had moved in. In his boxers and torn t-shirt he walked to the door and looked through the peephole. What the Hell?

"Clarke?" he asked, opening the door for a dusty blond women.

"Indeed, Lieutenant. You're a hard man to track down. May I come in?" She asked while professional eyes swept his cluttered room from one side to the other.

"Um yeah, c'mon in... uh, Captain."

As she walked in Walker couldn't help but stare. She was wearing tight jeans, a crisp white blouse, and an athletic figure that hadn't changed a whit since he last saw it. She was the only person he had ever seen who actually made an officer's BDU look good, back when she was an adjunt to their Ops Group. It had been five years and a lifetime ago now since he had looked into those dark eyes which now bore into him. She brushed away a single strand of murky red hair before answering, "Major now. Retired."

"Retired? But, you made Major that fast and then retired?"

"Yes. And you're right in thinking that there's a story there, but... you're not ready to know that yet. I'm here with an offer. I work for someone different now, and we're recruiting. Its work that you're good at- or at least used to be. We'll have to do some refresher training, but we'll get rid of that," she slapped his gut, "soon enough.

"Its not like you have anything else anymore," she added before he could answer.

He felt his hands ball into fists involuntarily, felt his spine harden to a degree he hadn't felt in years. "I'm not in anymore, Major, and I don't need to stand here and listen to anyone belittle my loss. Get out."

Not only did she not move, but a faint smile flciked across her lips, "You still have the steel in you Walker. I'll bring it out, and a whole lot more. You joined the Army to change the world, do you remember that? 'To build Peace the hard way, so my sons won't have to.' That's what you told me at the O-Club in Rihad," she chuckled before continuing, "Every other guy in that place was trying to get in my pants, but you just seemed to want to talk. And stare. But your words then are why I'm here now. We are going to change the world, and you can help. Honor their memory as you feel best. Your way... or come with me and make a difference."

She hadn't made it to Major that fast by being stupid. She had suckered him in and he knew it. He also knew that everything else she had said was true. Maybe she was the Devil incarnate, maybe she was legit. Either way he knew he'd follow her wherever she led. Hell, probably he thought to himself, but as long as I'm already here...

"I'm in," he heard himself say as he began sifting for his clothes. Within ten minutes he had gathered everything of value still left in his life and they were out the door. Twelve hours later and God knows how many miles from city lights, his life began anew. In earnest this time.

Continue to Part V ©2006, All Rights Reserved

[Author's Note- One of the best lessons this serial project is teaching me is the importance of pace. In retrospect the first three parts should have really happened as two. This single part was intially going to be three seperate ones; the debreifing, his civilian difficulties and collapse, and the entrance of Major Clarke (and yes, her name is an homage to Tom Clancy's John Clark) to change his path. But after re-reading the first three and seeing how slowly things were happening I realized that this story needed to be told in fewer episodes. So If and when I do do a full re-writing, the events at the Village will likely be compressed- or spread out over flashbacks.]