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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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=====
Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
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<1st attachment, "Desert 03.txt" begin>
Oscar Meyers
Part 1: Foo Fighter
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004
Chapter 3
Oscar had hidden the Hummer that morning about three hundred
meters into a ravine and went to scout the area around it. When he
had come around a boulder, he had spotted a guard on the
mountain across from him. Squatting on a boulder, the guard
watched the pass below and, fortunately, had not seen him.
It had taken him the entire day to scout the area without the guard
spotting him. With a smile, he knew that he had found the camp
that represented his final destination. It was a small camp and
appeared like it would be relatively easy to take out. Appearances
could be deceiving. The men in the camp had that hard look that
suggested they were battle hardened and wouldn't panic.
It was approaching sunset and he was sitting twenty meters away
from the guard. He had stayed still and close to the ground, looking
like a boulder amongst the rough terrain, for the past several hours.
His ability to hide himself in the open was confirmed when the
previous guard had walked within five feet of him when he had
been relieved. Over the past three weeks, he had gained a lot of
patience and could wait for hours without moving. Now, he waited
for the sky to darken even more.
The sky slowly darkened, but the moon rose a quarter full. It was
brighter than he wanted for tonight's operation, so he waited for the
time to come when it would start to set before creeping up on the
guard. He took him out with his usual efficiency before he moved
to the location of the second guard. The muscles in his legs
threatened to cramp from the long period of inactivity. It took him
an hour to get close enough to take the second guard out.
He moved into camp with his normal stealth. The tents from which
snoring sounds were emitted were not of interest while tents that
showed activity were too dangerous to explore. He went into a
quiet tent and was surprised to find two men sleeping on cots. He
quietly slipped out and went on his way. He finally found a supply
tent, only to discover that it was very poorly stocked. He realized
that meant these terrorists had seen action lately and would have to
re-supply from one of the weapons caches soon. Perhaps they had
already tried and died in the process.
There were no explosives here for him to use and he was at a loss
for a moment at what he should do. Making a quick decision, he
picked up four RPG launchers and carried them to one of the guard
positions. He returned for two boxes grenades and took a moment
to fill his pockets with several clips of ammunition. Returning to
the guard position, he set his rifle on the ground next to him and
prepared the four RPG launchers with grenades.
He waited for dawn so that he would be able to see his targets. It
wasn't easy to remain alert because of the number of hours that he
had been awake. This was a very dangerous time. If a relief guard
discovered the other body, then he would have to act immediately.
When there was finally enough light to see, he aimed an RPG at
the command tent. He fired and dropped the launcher only to pick
up another RPG and fire at the supply tent. He watched as the
grenade hit it and shook his head, as the explosion was
disappointingly small. He fired another RPG at one of the tents
where he was sure that men were sleeping and none had emerged.
He picked up the rifle and began shooting everything that moved.
He would fire three shots and then switch to another target. He
kept it up until there was no more movement in the camp below.
He stopped and changed his position moving carefully so that he
could not be seen from the camp below. He found a position that
had good cover and watched the camp. One of the terrorists
crawled out of a tent. Oscar fired three shots at the man, stopping
him with his body half out of the tent.
He waited several hours more, watching for movement. He ate one
of the Russian rations while waiting, amazed that he was able to
swallow the horrible food. The camp below was still and lifeless
while above, the vultures circled ever lower. He froze when he
heard sounds approaching the camp. For a minute, he wondered if
he had attacked a secondary camp rather than the main camp. He
readied his gun for action. He still had one RPG left and could use
that if necessary.
Ever since his encounter with the God, he had heard nothing
except Arabic. The men coming were whispering commands in
English and this presented him with an interesting dilemma that he
had not considered. He wondered how he could establish his
identity to soldiers walking nervously into the site of a destroyed
terrorist camp without getting shot. They approached the camp,
moving carefully, while he waited. He removed the cloak making
his American uniform, such as it was, visible.
Thirty men slowly crept into the camp observing the damage
wrought by Oscar's attack. The man in charge had the men spread
out to look for the possible causes. Quiet, Oscar watched as a man
headed in his direction and was disappointed when he didn't
recognize him. He set his gun down quietly and then called out,
"Private First Class Oscar Meyers reporting for duty."
Every man in the camp turned in his direction with rifles pointed at
him. He slowly stood up without his rifle. One of the men in camp
shouted, "Oscar Meyers, what do we call you?"
Believing that he recognized the voice, Oscar frowned as he called
back, "Foo!"
The man in the camp shouted up, "Get down here, Private Foo!"
Oscar climbed down from his position. He walked through the
camp looking at the damage he had caused, he glanced at the man
that had shouted. There was no doubt, he had been correct in
identifying whom it had been. He walked up to the Sergeant and
saluted. "Reporting for duty sir."
"We had you listed as MIA," barked the Sergeant. He looked over
Oscar, taking note of the short pants, ripped shirt, and dirty
appearance. He asked, "Do you know what happened here?"
"Yes, Sergeant," replied Oscar. He relaxed a little as he looked
around taking in the damage that he had caused. He said, "I took
out the camp."
"Single-handedly?"
"Yes, Sergeant." Oscar, in a flash of insight, realized that he was
no longer scared of the Sergeant. He relaxed and said, "I took four
RPG launchers and some ammo. I sat up there and shot the
command tent and the supply tent. I must say that I was rather
disappointed at the results of hitting the supply tent. Usually, there
is a much bigger explosion than that."
The Sergeant stared fixedly at Oscar for a minute. He barked,
"Everyone, form up and let's get back to camp."
Oscar asked, "Do you mind if I get my Hummer?"
The Sergeant ordered, "Come with me and we'll pick it up later."
Oscar nodded and headed up the hill to where he had been. The
Sergeant shouted, "Get back here, Foo."
Oscar ignored him as he went to where he had dropped his cloak.
Bending down and picking up his cloak, he put it on before
heading down the hill. He reached the Sergeant and said, "That's
Private Oscar Meyers, Sergeant."
The Sergeant stared at Oscar and shook his head. He could see that
the man had changed in some significant way. It was hard to
believe that Oscar had gone up the hill and back without tripping.
There had been none of his normal accidents, he spoke with
assurance, and looked him in the eye. He ordered, "Come with us,
Private."
Oscar shrugged and replied, "Yes, Sergeant. I might add that I
have video tapes of the people killed in about six terrorist camps
and the laptop computers from those same camps. The only one
that I didn't get any data on was the site where some poison gas
was stored."
The Sergeant froze in mid-step at the news that Oscar was
claiming that he had destroyed the camp where the WMD had been
stored. He turned in slow motion and asked, "You were the one
that blew up the WMD site in Iran?"
"I have no idea where it was located. There weren't any national
boundaries on my map. I just followed the directions there and
took it out."
The Sergeant called to one of the other men in the squad,
"Peterson, take the squad back to camp."
Peterson replied, "yes, Sergeant."
"Take me to your Hummer."
The Sergeant followed Oscar as he moved across the rugged
terrain. Much to his surprise, he was having a hard time keeping up
with the sure-footed private. Oscar had to stop several times to
wait for him to catch up. They had just reached a spot overlooking
the Hummer when Oscar said, "Hold on. We need to get down."
The Sergeant lowered himself to the ground. The rocks pressed
unpleasantly against his buttocks. He looked around and didn't see
anything. He looked over at Oscar who was staring at the horizon.
Even as close as they were, he realized that Oscar was almost
invisible among the rocks. Oscar said, "There are three trucks over
there coming from a terrorist camp that's located about twenty
klicks to the east. They are either heading here, in which case we
need to get ready for a fight or they are heading to a weapons
cache."
As the Sergeant reached for his radio he said, "I'll call in
supporting aircraft."
Oscar, holding up a hand, interrupted, "We only need to do that if
they head this way."
"Why?" asked the Sergeant. He was finding the new Oscar rather
difficult. The man was on top of the situation like a real veteran. It
appeared to him that Oscar knew more about desert warfare than
any of the other men in the unit knew. He observed things and
acted immediately on those observations. The dust plumes were
still very small specks on the horizon. He found himself talking to
Oscar like a peer rather than as a Sergeant to a Private.
"They'll all die if they go to the weapons cache." Oliver watched
the dust plumes with total focus. He smiled when he realized that
they were heading to the weapons cache. He sat back and said,
"Watch what happens now."
The Sergeant looked at Oscar in disbelief. He turned to watch the
dust plumes. They slowly dissipated. About a minute later, a huge
plume of dust rose in the air. He could hear the distant explosion as
a very small pop. Oscar turned to him and said, "Very nice. I
booby trapped it two days ago. Looks like I did a good job."
The Sergeant nodded as he watched the dust rise higher in the air.
It had been a major explosion and he was impressed as he said,
"Yes, it does."
Oscar stood and headed to the Hummer. When he reached it, he
opened the passenger side door to remove the stuff on the seat and
put it in the back seat. The Sergeant watched as Oscar pulled out
an RPG launcher with a grenade and another rifle. When the
Sergeant came over, Oscar explained, "Sorry, I didn't expect to
have any passengers."
The Sergeant examined the back of the Hummer and whistled. He
said, "You've got an arsenal in there."
Oscar shrugged and replied, "I've been borrowing weapons from
the enemy. Can't ever have too much except when it is more than
you can carry. Funny how excited they get when I return them."
The Sergeant nodded at the black humor and then caught his first
full whiff of Oscar. The man stunk to high heaven and he said,
"You need to take a shower man."
Oscar laughed and said, "I know, I smell like those guys laying on
the ground back there. I need to change out of this uniform. I've
been living it ever since I was separated from my unit. I also need
to eat something. I've been living off Russian rations and they
really suck."
The Sergeant thought about what Oscar must have been through
over the past month. "When we get back to camp, we can arrange
all of that."
Oscar replied, "Thank you, Sergeant."
Oscar drove to camp following the directions provided by the
Sergeant. It wasn't that long of a trip since he was able to drive
directly there. He did think that the Sergeant was about to get sick
because of his odor. All of the windows that hadn't been shot out
were down to get fresh air into the truck.
He pulled into camp and exited from the Hummer, stretching as he
looked around at all of the people in his unit. He looked at each
person and realized that they didn't intimidate him any more. The
camp was huge with a mess tent and a supply tent. His eyes
automatically searched out ways that the camp could be attacked.
The Sergeant looked around and pointed out a tent. He said,
"There's a spare bed in there."
Oscar nodded and said, "I'm afraid that all of my gear was lost. It
was blown up in my first engagement."
The Sergeant said, "Get to supply tent and get what you need from
the Sergeant there. Then get washed and fed. I'll be in the Colonel's
office briefing him."
Oscar opened a door of the Hummer and reached in. He pulled out
a stack of laptops and the video camera. He handed them to the
Sergeant and said, "Here's the intelligence that I've gathered."
Oscar headed off to the supply tent to get a fresh uniform and other
supplies. He entered and strode up to the Supply Sergeant. The
man took one whiff of him and handed him a clean uniform. He
said, "Get clean, then come back here."
Oscar turned and left the supply tent with a clean uniform. He
walked around looking for the showers. He finally stopped
someone and asked, "Where are the showers?"
The other private pointed to a tent and said, "On the other side of
that tent."
Oscar walked to the other side of the tent; smelling the water in the
air he was able to go directly to the tent with the showers. Walking
in, he smiled at the thought of being clean for the first time in a
long time. He stripped and turned on the water making sure that it
was hot. In minutes, the floor beneath him was running with mud.
He looked down at the floor, surprised that all of that dirt had come
off him. He also noticed his cock for the first time, staring at it for
a second shocked by the size of it. He told the wall, "The women
are going to love that."
He lathered up and washed his hair. He had a thick growth of
beard, but didn't have a razor on hand. The fact that the water ran
gray when he rinsed forced him to wash a second time checking to
make sure the water ran clear when he was done. Finished with his
shower, he took a few minutes to stand under the hot water
enjoying the feeling of it running over his body. Finally, shutting
the water off and stepping out of the stall, he dried himself with a
towel and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look any
different other than the beard and unruly hair, but he felt different.
Dressing in the new uniform, he put on the cloak and picked up the
old uniform. He went to the tent the Sergeant had pointed out and
put the uniform at the foot of the bed. He'd find out what to do
with it later. He searched the pockets of the old uniform and put
the items in his new uniform. It was only when he pulled out the
map that he realized he had forgotten to give it to the Sergeant.
It was lunchtime by the time he exited his tent. He went into the
mess hall and joined the end of the line. Most people didn't even
take notice of him; he was just another private waiting for lunch.
The line progressed fairly quickly and he eyed the food
ravenously. Too long of a time spent living off Russian rations was
about to end with a feast.
Oscar was still pretty far back in the line when two men in Special
Forces uniforms came into the mess hall. They pushed their way
into the middle of the line, intimidating the regular forces.
Infuriated, Oscar stepped out of line and went to them. Despite the
fact that they outranked him, he ordered, "Apologize to everyone
here and then get in the back of the line."
The two men looked down at him and laughed. One of them asked,
"What are you going to do about it?"
Oscar looked up at the man and stared him straight in the eye. In
an even tone of voice that showed no fear, he answered, "I'll cut
your balls off and fry them for my lunch."
The other people in line started backing away. Both men towered
over Oscar and tried to look intimidating, but with no luck. The
one he had answered looked down at him with anger flashing in his
eyes. He said, "I'd like to see you do that."
Oscar turned and headed towards the door. A number of people
breathed a sigh of relief until he called out, "Come on, mister
tough guy. Let's see if you can push me around."
The two men followed him out of the mess tent. Oscar turned and
faced them. He was calm and relaxed. One of the big guys said,
"Come on. You don't expect us to fight you. You're a shrimp."
The other taunted, "Why don't you run home to mother now?"
Voice even and filled with steel, Oscar replied, "The strong are
supposed to protect the weak, not push them around. If you
apologize to everyone in the tent, I'll let you go."
"I'm not apologizing to anyone!"
Oscar spun and kicked him across the face. He returned to his
original stance looking at the two men. They charged and the fight
heated up. A large crowd gathered around to watch as the fight
continued long beyond what anyone believed possible considering
the difference in size of the combatants and that the smaller man
was out numbered.
The commotion was enough to bring Oscar's Sergeant and the
Colonel from the command tent. The Colonel stopped the Sergeant
from breaking up the fight as he watched Oscar dance around and
strike the special services guys at will. He took a few hits, but they
didn't slow him down. The Colonel turned to the Sergeant and
asked, "Isn't that Foo?"
The Sergeant watched open mouthed as Oscar took down one of
the special service guys with a leg sweep. He answered, "Yes, sir.
That is Foo. We found him at the camp that I was telling you
about."
"He's become quite a fighter."
"Yes, sir," replied the Sergeant. He looked at Oscar and said,
"Something happened to him out there. He's not the same Private
Meyers that got separated from his unit."
The Colonel said, "I once saw an exhibition with that fighting
style. He's using a form of Brazilian Martial Arts. Those two guys
he's fighting have never experienced anything like it."
They watched the fight progress. It suddenly ended when Oscar
got both men on the ground. He pulled their own knives and held
them to their throats. In a very calm voice he stated, "Apologize to
everyone."
The two men swallowed and said, "I'm sorry for cutting in line."
Oscar smoothly stood up and threw the knives to the ground. The
points of both knives were buried in the dirt. Taking a deep breath
and turning to the crowd, he said, "The excitement is over."
As crowd of people broke up, Oscar reached down and helped the
two men up. Nodding at them, he turned and went into the mess
hall. A line had already formed and he returned to the end of the
line where he waited patiently despite the stares he received from
others. The person in front of him, nervously offered, "Would you
like to go ahead of me?"
Oscar smiled and shook his head, as he answered, "No. Thank you
for offering though."
The two men he had fought returned to the mess hall and went to
the end of the line. He nodded at them and returned to waiting his
turn. The guy in front said, "That was pretty amazing what you did.
I was sure that you were going to get clobbered."
Relaxed now that the fight was over, Oscar laughed and answered,
"So did I."
He went through the line looking at the hot food with delight.
More than a month without a hot meal was too long of a time. He
told them to load up his plate. They either took note of the events
outside or they could see how hungry he was, but the result was
that they piled the food on his plate. At the beverage station, he
grabbed a cup of coffee and a glass of iced tea.
He carried his tray over to an empty table and set it down. Hardly
able to refrain from thrusting his head into the food, he sat down
and looked over the meal. He picked up the iced tea and drank half
of it down. The cold liquid did more to make him feel like he had
rejoined civilization than the shower. He hardly knew where to
begin eating. Closing his eyes, he set the fork onto the plate. It was
over the green beans, so he started there. When the two special
service guys came over to the table, one of them asked, "Do you
mind if we join you?"
"Please, have a seat," replied Oscar. He moved his left hand out of
the pocket of his cloak where it had been resting on his pistol.
They sat down across from him, looking at his plate and seeing his
obvious enjoyment of the food. They took in his beard and shaggy
hair. One of them said, "You eat like you've been out in the field
for a while. Have you been out long?"
Oscar thought about it, not knowing if almost a month in the field
constituted a long time, but he answered, "Yes, I have."
The other asked, "Seen any action?"
"Some," replied Oscar. He was sure that what he had done would
be considered a lot, but didn't want to boast.
The first one who had spoken said, "I'm Tom Greelley and this is
George Rocha."
Oscar extended a hand saying, "I'm Oscar Meyers."
The two men looked at each other for a second and then shook his
head. The men in their unit wouldn't believe they had been beat by
someone named Oscar Meyers. There was only one thing for them
to do. Tom asked, "You ever consider joining the special forces?"
Oscar laughed and answered, "Until a month ago, you guys
wouldn't have been interested in having me."
The two men looked at each other in confusion by his answer. This
guy had beaten two highly trained fighters and had not worked up
a sweat. They shrugged and started to eat their food. When they
were nearly done eating, George looked at Oscar and said, "I've
never seen that fighting style you used on us. What is it?"
Oscar thought about it for a moment and then answered, "I don't
know exactly."
Tom asked, "Where did you learn it?"
Oscar looked at both of them seriously for a second. He answered,
"It's just how I fight. I didn't learn it anywhere."
Tom said, "Well, I guess we'll have to believe you. Anyway, you
may want to look into joining us. We can use people that can fight
like you."
Taking their offer with the seriousness that it deserved, Oscar
nodded and said, "I'll think about it."
The two men left while he was enjoying his coffee. The hot
beverage tasted great after a long bout of drinking tepid water.
Three members of his unit sat down at the table. One of them
asked, "Foo, what happened to you?'
With eyes narrowed, Oscar looked up at him and replied, "Don't
call me Foo, call me Oscar."
The guy was about to make a comment, but a nudge in his side
reminded him of what he had seen outside. He definitely did not
want Oscar to force the issue. He said, "Okay, Oscar. What
happened to you?"
Oscar frowned and thought about what had happened. He wasn't
sure if he was supposed to talk about it until after he was debriefed.
He answered, "I can't talk about it now."
"You aren't the same guy that was here earlier."
"I can't talk about it."
The men in his unit stared at Oscar, shocked at the change in him.
They slowly stood and moved away from the table. He watched
them go, sad that he couldn't explain what had happened. He didn't
want to talk about meeting the God and didn't feel like he could tell
them about his actions in the field.
He picked up his tray looking at the empty plate on it. He couldn't
believe how much he had eaten. He carried his tray to the proper
place to drop it off and looked around the room. As his gaze swept
the room, people looked away with embarrassment at having been
caught staring. Somehow, he had changed from being a figure of
disdain to one that was feared.
He headed to the command tent to meet with the Sergeant and the
Colonel, intending to get the rest of his gear after meeting with
them. After entering the tent and waiting to be acknowledged, the
Colonel turned and looked at him for a full minute. Oscar came to
attention. After a minute the Colonel said, "Come with me Private
Meyers."
"Yes, sir." He followed the Colonel into a private part of the tent.
He stood at attention while the Colonel sat at a table.
The Colonel pointed to a chair and said, "Sit."
Oscar sat in the chair that had been offered to him. Uneasy at being
there alone, he looked at the Colonel as he said, "Sir, I thought that
Sergeant Wilson was to be here."
"Oscar, this is over his head. I need you to tell me exactly what
happened."
Oscar sat back and wondered how to start. He cleared his throat
and said, "I don't know where to start."
The Colonel sat back and suggested, "Start with the morning
before you left camp with the caravan. There are some details that
need to be cleared up about that morning."
Oscar blushed in embarrassment and then said, "well, that morning
I had taken two doses of laxative thinking it was something to calm
my stomach. By the time we left camp, I couldn't go for more than
twenty minutes without have to go. Oh, it was miserable. After the
third or fourth stop, the rest of the unit went on without me."
"Why were you alone in the Hummer?"
"The rest of the guys in the unit were afraid to be around me with a
loaded gun."
The Colonel laughed and said, "I remember the very first day you
joined my command. You spilled your tray all over me. If I
remember correctly, you did that several times after that, too. I
guess I can understand why the fellows in your unit wouldn't want
to be around you with a loaded gun."
"Yes, sir."
The Colonel said, "I just want to make sure that we are in
agreement about the kind of soldier you were up to that morning."
"I guess you might say that I was a Fuck Up. That's how I got the
nickname Foo," Oscar looked at the Colonel directly when he said
that.
The Colonel replied, "I think the operative expression is that you
were a Fuck Up. There is no might about it."
"Yes sir."
"So you are left behind as you are suffering from the consequences
of your accident with the laxatives. What happened next?"
Oscar took a deep breath and answered, "While I was there I saw
some white trucks moving across the desert and get onto the road
behind the convoy. I finished my business among the rocks and got
into my Hummer. I was racing along hoping to catch up. Suddenly
I find all those white trucks coming at me. Bullet holes started
showing up in my windshield."
The Colonel made a gesture for him to continue. Oscar licked his
lips and said, "Well, I turned around and tried to put some distance
between them and me. They were shooting at me and I couldn't
return fire. I finally stopped the Hummer and went for cover. After
a very short firefight, I was out of ammunition."
The Colonel leaned forward putting his elbows on the table. He put
the fist on one hand in the palm of the other and rested his chin on
his hands, watching Oscar very intently. The story, in an odd way,
was fascinating. Oscar continued, "I was quickly becoming
surrounded and was without ammunition. Behind me was the
desert and there was no place to hide. About that time I noticed
that there was a huge dust devil coming towards me. I don't know
why, but I ran into it."
The Colonel sat back in amazement. He said, "You escaped by
running into a dust devil?"
"Yes sir."
Astounded, the Colonel returned to his original position. He asked,
"What happened next?"
Oscar thought about how to answer that question for a long time.
Finally, he said, "I renewed my vows to the Gods and Goddesses
of my religion that I would serve them to the best of my abilities.
The God answered me."
The Colonel sat back for a moment and opened the folder on the
table. He looked it over and then looked up in surprise. Just to
confirm what he had read, he asked, "You are pagan?"
"Yes, sir."
The Colonel nodded his head as he started to realize where the
story might lead. He stated, "That explains much. Did they give
you anything?"
Oscar hesitated, unwilling to discuss the medallion, and then
answered, "Yes sir."
"Continue telling me your experiences."
Oscar took a deep breath and stated, "I have no idea how much
time passed between entering the dust devil and waking outside a
hut. The man inside the hut gave me this cloak. He said that it
would help hide me in the desert."
"He spoke to you in English?"
"No. He spoke Arabic. I now can speak Arabic and Farzi."
The Colonel returned to his forward position as Oscar continued,
"Well, I left there with nothing except the cloak and the items in
my pocket. I walked across the desert for a day until I found a well.
I spent the night in the rocks above the well. The next day some
men came to the well. I overheard them talking about the attack on
the caravan and this lowly dog they chased into a dust devil. Of
course, they were referring to me."
"Rather than kill them there, I followed them back to their camp.
That night I raided their supply tent and used their own explosives
against them. In five minutes it was all over. I went through the
camp and retrieved the Hummer and stocked up on supplies. I
found a video camera and taped the people that I killed in that
raid."
The Colonel had watched the tape. It was shocking the number of
high level terrorists that Oscar had killed. He said, "I watched the
video tape."
Oscar reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the map. He
handed it to the Colonel. He said, "I also found this map. Once I
figured out what it meant, I knew that it gave the positions of the
camps, wells, and weapons caches. I had no idea where I was, but I
did figure out that if I worked my way to a terrorist camp in the
area where my unit had been dispatched, that I could rejoin it."
"Good thinking."
Oscar smiled and continued, "I didn't think it wise for me to go
directly to the camp. I wanted it to look like I was moving around
randomly. I booby trapped the weapons caches as I went. I
attacked every camp along the route that I had selected. I did take
one detour to a camp that was the southernmost one on the map."
Sitting up straight, the Colonel focused all of his attention on
Oscar. His gaze was piercing as he commanded, "Tell me about
that camp."
Oscar nodded, understanding why the Colonel would want to know
more about the raid on that camp. He said, "It was the biggest
camp I encountered. There weren't tents; they actually had
buildings. There must have been two hundred or more men there.
There was no way that I was going to be able to take it out in my
normal procedure. I set up about five locations with RPGs and
rifles with extra ammunition. I watched until I was sure I knew
where the command building and the supply building were located.
I fired RPGs at those locations first. All hell broke loose. I shot the
rest of the RPGs at clusters of men and barrels of gasoline. Then I
picked up the gun and fired every round that I had. I moved over to
the next place and fired an RPG in a building that no one had left. I
figured it stored more ammunition. Well, instead of a big bang,
there was this huge white cloud that came boiling out of it."
The Colonel nodded at the confirmation of the intelligence reports
that he had heard. Gesturing with his hand, he said, "Go on."
"The men in the camp started dropping like flies. I saw that and
ran. I ran to my Hummer and drove away like mad. I was scared to
death that it was poison. That was basically it."
The Colonel said, "You then went on to make several more attacks
on camps."
"Yes sir. The one this morning is the one that I had been heading
for the entire time."
The Colonel sat back and held up a hand. He considered the
situation very carefully. He finally said, "The only raid that you
performed that was in Afghanistan was the one this morning. It is
only just inside Afghanistan. The rest of them took place inside
northern Iran and Southern Pakistan."
Oscar thought about it for a minute and then asked, "Am I in
trouble?"
"No, we denied all involvement. We will continue to deny that by
stating that some unknown party has declared a private war on the
terrorists and that the US Government had no role in the actions."
Oscar smiled and said, "Might as well give that same unknown
party credit for the camp this morning."
The Colonel laughed and said, "Of course we will. In the mean
time, you are to be sent to Germany for debriefing by army
intelligence."
"When do I leave?" asked Oscar wondering if he would get a
chance to sleep. It had been a long day and it was only mid-
morning.
The Colonel stood and handed the map back to Oscar. He said,
"you leave now. Your tapes and computers are on a helicopter
that's waiting for you. Take this map with you."
<1st attachment end>
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