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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-06.txt" begin>
Oscar Meyers
Part 1: Foo Fighter
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004
Chapter 6
A naked Oscar stepped out of the bedroom and stopped as he
stretched feeling the muscles tighten and then relax. He was
feeling exceptionally good that morning. Last night Jennifer had
been a wild woman, claiming that it was a goodbye fling. She had
worn him out with her sexual energy and he had slept very well.
Georgia, seated on the couch, watched him with a feral intensity as
he stepped into the living room. Her eyes drank in his body and her
body tingled in its desire for him.
He sat down on a chair across from her. His eyes flicked across her
naked body, appreciating the view. She was a smaller version of
her sister. Her breasts looked bigger, even though they were
smaller than her sister's breasts. The smaller frame of her body
gave that impression. Her nipples were erect, despite the fact that it
didn't seem that cold in the room to him. He wondered if she was
sexually excited. His cock started to respond, but he pushed away
the thought. He said, "I would like it if you could join me at the
training facility."
Thoughts that she had not entertained for a long time went through
her head. She had noticed the beginning of his erection. Her eyes
flew from his cock to his face in surprise at his suggestion. She
asked, "What do you mean?"
His eyes rested on her face and answered, "You fight like I do and
you know as much about the training program as I do. You helped
create it and I need you to help me. I hope you can join me."
She looked at the floor for several minutes before softly answering,
"I would like that, but...."
He waited for her to continue as she stared off into space for a
moment. It had been a slim hope that she would join him, but her
hesitancy suggested that she wouldn't. Disappointed at her lack of
enthusiasm, he said, "I understand. You have other
responsibilities."
She looked up at him, her lower lip quivering, as she said, "I want
more from you than that."
She looked upset. Wanting to comfort her, he gracefully rose from
his chair and moved to the couch settling down beside her. Putting
an arm around her, he pulled her close to him. It was incredible
how good it felt to hold her like that. Tenderly, he looked into her
eyes and said, "Tell me what you want and it is yours."
Her eyes searched his, seeking any guile or deception. She felt that
if he truly liked her then his body would be responding to her
presence. Yet, he sat there flaccid and apparently physically
uninterested in her. She wondered if he couldn't see her need. She
feared that if he was to see it, that he would take advantage of her.
Years of pursuit by mindless males had built huge walls of distrust
of masculine sexual drives. She hesitantly said, "I don't know if I
can tell you."
He was about to respond when Jennifer came out of the bedroom.
She smiled as she saw the couple sitting together on the couch with
his arm around her sister in a clearly protective gesture while her
sister was looking at him with desire. She didn't realize that she
was interrupting a private moment that had only begun to blossom.
Looking at them with a smile, she said, "It's about time you two
lovebirds connected. I've been waiting all week for this to happen."
Oscar looked at her with surprise written on his face. He felt a
significant emotional attachment to Georgia, but hadn't realized
that it was obvious to anyone. He didn't know if it was love, but he
did know that he enjoyed being around her tremendously and the
house seemed empty when she was not there. They had spent
almost every free minute together. She had helped him flesh out
his training program.
Georgia looked at him out of the corner of her eye, afraid of what
she might see. She feared that he didn't really care about her. She
finally blurted out, "He's asked me to go with him to Afghanistan."
Jennifer, still not picking up on the underlying tension, assumed
that they had already been to bed together. She replied, "I was
getting worried that he was going to leave without you making a
move on him. So now that you know how he is in bed, you can go
with him. Clearly he isn't a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy."
Blushing brightly, Oscar said, "I'm afraid that we haven't been to
bed. I'm waiting for her to be ready for it. I asked her to come with
me because ..."
Jennifer covered her mouth with her hand in dismay. For the past
week, she had watched them work, play, and talk with each other.
They complemented each other. If she was asked, she would have
to say that she was jealous of her sister. Not because of Oscar, but
because her sister had found such pleasure with him. She said,
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize."
Georgia could hardly believe her ears. He wanted her and was
waiting for her to act. No one had ever displayed such self control
on her behalf. She couldn't believe it and asked for confirmation,
"You've been waiting for me to ask you?"
Oscar looked into her eyes and said, "Of course, I want to you be
ready and willing to accept me into your life."
"You want me in your life?" She looked into his eyes, hoping
against hope that he meant what he had just said. He wanted her in
his life; his words echoed in her mind.
Oscar took her hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed it gently
and then answered, "Very much."
She looked at her sister and realized that she suddenly wanted to be
alone with Oscar more than anything. She stood, holding his hand,
and said, "Come with me."
Oscar followed her to her bedroom. Jennifer watched them leave
the room. Oscar's cock reacted to the promise that the moment
held, swelling with each step. Aloud, to no one in particular, she
said, "Thank the Gods and Goddesses. It's taken them long
enough."
Georgia settled onto the bed and lay back pulling Oscar down to
her. He moved beside her and started kissing her. He could tell that
she had different needs than her sister. She needed to submit, but
only to a certain point at which she would then need to take charge.
He kissed her, trailing kisses along her neck, behind her ears, and
moving slowly to her breasts. Taking his time, he enjoyed the
flavor of this woman. Her skin, speckled here and there with
freckles and imperfections that all bodies have, was unexplored
territory. He enjoyed his explorations as much as she enjoyed the
sensations it provided her.
As her excitement grew, so did her aggression. She would move
under him trying to get him to pay attention to one place more than
another. Excited, she forced his head between her legs, spreading
them to make access to her womanhood easier. The rich aroma of
her juices excited him. The smell differed significantly from her
sister's. He licked her juices amazed at the quantity that she
produced. He knew that she was ready to take charge when she
started directing his head from place to place by pulling on his
hair.
He moved up her body so that he was laying on her. Grabbing her,
he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She was now above
him and in control. She didn't waste a minute before she had
mounted his cock. She worked herself up and down his cock,
hoping that it would drive her to a release. History argued against
it since she had never had release from sex with a partner, usually
having to settle for her own hand to bring her off.
She changed her movements to small circular rolls of her hips.
That hit the right spot and her climax rushed over her, surprising
them both. For her, she had been frustrated as she tried to push
herself over the edge. Then, in space of two seconds, it seemed that
all frustration evaporated and her mind and body exploded with
pleasure. For him, she was just moving fluidly and then her entire
body went rigid. The blush that spread across her entire body was
enough to send him over the edge.
She fell across his body, hugging him and weeping gently. He
didn't understand the tears, but understood her need to be held. He
put his arms around her and held her closer while she remained
impaled on his cock. The lack of movement didn't create the kind
of pain that he was used to experiencing after orgasm. The warm
envelopment of her cunt around his cock, kept him erect. His need
for her grew as they held each other. For the first time, the act of
coupling stopped being sex and became loving. The transition was
subtle, but both felt it.
His hips rose off the bed in little movements that excited them
both. Her clit was pressed against him and each little motion
seemed to cause a jolt of electricity to flow from her clit to her
breasts and finally to her brain. The tightness of her cunt rubbed
the ridge of the head of his cock. The sensation was extremely
satisfying. He flexed his cock inside her and they both jumped at
the sensation. Her breath became ragged. She was building to
another orgasm as was he. She pushed against his hips as they rose
off the bed.
They lay like that, slowly working up to a release. The first five
minutes were pleasant. The second five minutes was phenomenal.
At thirty minutes, the feelings they shared were so intense that
neither of them would ever be able to describe it. The orgasm,
when it finally came, was shattering. A spiritual bond was forged
between them. They both wept like babies as they recovered from
the effects of the orgasm.
Oscar stood at the door looking at Georgia. It was clear to anyone
that saw him that he didn't want to leave. She would be joining him
in a month, but even stepping out of the house seemed impossible.
Jennifer watched the lovers as they looked into each other's eyes
and she shook her head at the sight. Oscar looked like a lovesick
puppy and she didn't even want to think what her sister looked like.
Finally, she had enough and said, "It is time for you to get to the
plane. They aren't going to hold it for you."
Oscar, wearing his red robe, followed her to the car. People
stopped to look at the pair as they walked with cat-like grace to the
car. They got into the car and left for the airport, unconcerned
about the effect they had on the people around them.
It was only a twenty-minute drive across the base to the airfield
and they made good time in getting there. The security gate at the
airfield took less than two minutes to get through. The guard had
snapped to attention when they had pulled up in her car. Jennifer
laughed as she said, "It never ceases to amaze me at how quickly
they can snap to attention when they see the red robes."
Although Druids had been in the public eye for almost a decade,
their influence on public policy was only now becoming clear.
Oscar asked, "Why do they do that?"
She answered, "The word has gotten out on this base that we are to
be treated like Colonels or better. Many of the upper ranking
officers think that we are super soldiers. Can't tell them otherwise,
so we have to put up with it. Personally, I can't wait for one of
them to drop the bullshit and treat me like a normal person."
They had just gotten out of her car when a soldier came up to them
and asked, "Oscar Meyers?"
Oscar turned and nodded in acknowledgement. He replied, "Yes?"
"Your plane is ready. I'll take you to it," he said. The soldier
looked very uncomfortable at dealing with the Druid.
After looking back in the direction of the house, Oscar turned to
Jennifer and said, "I love your sister very much. I hope that isn't a
problem for you."
Jennifer laughed and answered, "The only problem it presents is
that I'm going to have a very lovelorn sister moping around the
house for the next month."
Oscar looked very serious and said, "I'm sorry."
Jennifer laughed as she replied, "Don't be sorry. I've been hoping
she'll find someone for years. Now get on your plane."
Oscar hugged Jennifer and then turned to the soldier. With far
more sharpness in his voice than he had intended, he commanded,
"Lead the way."
He followed the soldier to a large transport plane and entered
through the loading ramp. He stopped to look at all of the crates on
the plane, surprised by the tremendous amount of material loaded
within it. All of it was to be used in the construction of the training
facility. He looked around and asked, "Is this it?"
The soldier shook his head and answered, "There's another plane
that has material and the engineers are on it."
Oscar looked around and asked, "Why aren't there any men on this
plane?"
"We thought you would be more comfortable alone."
Oscar looked at the soldier for a moment and then asked, "Are you
going on the other plane?"
"Yes, sir."
He smiled and said, "Good. Let's get over there and I'll fly with
you guys."
The soldier looked uncomfortable for a second. There was a long
pause before he replied, "Yes, sir."
The two men left the transport and went to another plane. As they
walked, Oscar asked, "So what do you like to be called, Private
Whitman?"
Recognizing that Oscar was trying to make him feel a little more
comfortable in his presence, the man answered, "Most of the guys
call me Whitey."
Oscar knew from first hand experience about how some folks were
given nicknames that they didn't necessarily like, but answered to
anyway. As if it was a fact, he said, "You don't like that."
"Not really," replied the private surprised that Oscar had picked up
on that.
"So what do you like to be called?"
Private Whitman answered, "Jim."
Oscar looked at the private and stated, "Okay Jim. Call me Oscar."
"Yes sir."
Tired of being addressed so formally by everyone, Oscar looked at
the private and replied, "Oscar!"
"Yes, Oscar," replied Jim as he started to relax in light of the
informal manner of the man.
Oscar walked along for a moment towards another airplane. He
said, "Well, let's see how many Oscar Meyer jokes you guys have
come up with."
The private nearly stumbled. He had laughed as hard as the rest of
the men about the hot dog they were taking over to Afghanistan.
He looked over at Oscar and noticed the smile plastered on his
face. He asked, "You don't mind?"
It wasn't that he didn't mind, but he understood why they did it. It
allowed them a chance to feel superior to someone, hiding their
own insecurity. Oscar said, "They don't know me enough to
respect me yet. That will come with time. Until then, they'll make
their jokes."
Jim glanced at Oscar out of the corner of his eyes as he considered
what the Druid had said. To hear someone talk about earning
respect was something that was relatively new to him. Respect was
given to rank with the understanding that it had been earned.
They entered the other transport plane to see more crates and boxes
on board. There were a number of bored soldiers seated on the
hard chairs along each side of the transport. Oscar went to one of
the seats and sat down as the men in the plane stared at him. He
smiled back and said, "Now that the big wiener is here, let's get
this show in the air."
A ripple of laughter ran through the plane as the loading ramp
lifted, closing the rear of the plane. Oscar watched the rest of the
world disappear and turned to look at the traveling companions.
They would be with him until the camp was established and then
half would leave.
He waited until the plane had taken off before standing up. This
was his chance to meet the men and women that would be working
with him. He went from individual to individual, asking their
names and their interests. He spent almost half the trip in this
fashion, spending at least ten minutes with each person.
The last soldier, Brett Nolan, he met had watched Oscar go from
person to person. He felt that Oscar was attempting to suck up to
the men and his respect for the man had dropped through the whole
flight. When he was given a chance to talk to Oscar, he asked,
"You are a Druid, aren't you?"
Oscar looked over at the man and answered, "Yes, I am. I serve the
Gods and Goddesses, although my service supports primarily the
God."
Another soldier asked, "So what does that mean?"
Oscar looked off into the distance and answered, "It means I live
my life according to certain rules. I strive to protect the weak from
the strong. I work to defeat evil in the world. I advise others on
how to serve the greater interests of mankind. It is an awesome
responsibility and one that I take very seriously. Lives hang in the
balance based on decisions that I make. The God has blessed me
with special abilities to aide me, but I am still a man and prone to
err."
Brett was skeptical of the claim and unwilling to risk his life
around a religious fanatic. It was easy for them to say they had met
their Gods and Goddesses, but he was a realist. Things like that
didn't happen. He looked over at Oscar and asked, "So what special
abilities did your God give to you? Walking through walls, the
ability to fly, invisibility, or x-ray vision?"
Recognizing sarcastic disbelief when he heard it, Oscar looked at
him in the eye with an unflinching gaze. With steel in his voice, he
answered, "He gifted me with the knowledge and ability to fight
terrorists."
"Yeah, right."
"You are talking to a superior, Private. Show him respect,"
commented the Sergeant assigned to the unit. The tension in the
plane returned with a vengeance. He looked up at Oscar with
curiosity, wondering about the man's experience in fighting
terrorists. So far, much of their activities had been in the form of
intense firefights with small pockets of terrorists holed up inside
caves. He asked, "So have you seen action?"
Oscar answered in a flat tone of voice, "Yes."
The Sergeant believed him based solely on the tone of voice in
which he had answered. He had been in several campaigns himself
and understood that tone. It was the tone that a man uses when he
has seen too much death and destruction. There was that lack of
boasting that marked an experienced soldier. He asked, "What was
it like?"
With a long sigh, Oscar answered, "It was the longest and loneliest
month of my life."
The Sergeant realized with whom he was talking. He had heard a
story about a guy that had been lost in the desert and taken out a
number of terrorist camps single-handedly. The news for a month
had covered nothing other than how many terrorists were
reportedly being killed by the Renegade Warrior. Like many other
soldiers, he had watched the news reports every chance that he
had. He asked, "You were known as Foo, weren't you?"
Knowing that the Sergeant would put the pieces to together, Oscar
nodded at the reminder of his past. Impressed, the Sergeant replied,
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
One of the soldiers asked, "What's this about Foo?"
Oscar turned to him and smiled as he answered, "It was short for
Fuck Up."
Brett was about to make a big deal out of it, but he glanced in the
direction of his Sergeant and saw awe on the face of the man. That
stopped all comment faster than when the Sergeant simply said,
"Drop it, soldier. You have no need to know. Let me say that he's a
far better fighter than any man in the army."
A silence descended upon the plane as Oscar returned to his seat.
They were about half way to the landing field in Afghanistan.
After the result of the exchange with the Sergeant, the men looked
at him like he was some sort of freak of nature. He leaned back and
rested, thinking about Georgia. It was less than half a day and he
already missed her. He didn't even have a picture of her, yet that
didn't matter. He could close his eyes and see her in his mind. The
image of her beautiful face, flushed with the effects of her orgasm,
looking at him with her love was burned into his memory.
He dropped off to sleep dreaming of her, waking when the plane
began its descent and his ears popped with the change in pressure.
He looked around and noticed other soldiers waking from their
naps. The Sergeant walked around the plane, waking those that
were still asleep. He told them to get their gear together as they
would be landing soon.
Oscar watched the man work; impressed with the straight, no
nonsense attitude the man displayed. Oscar remembered his
Sergeant and realized that he had that same directness. He had
been terrified of the guy until after he had met the God. Now he
recognized and appreciated the expertise the Sergeants brought to
the army.
After the plane had landed and come to a complete stop, he waited
until the loading ramp was lowered to stand. He walked out into
the desert heat, reminded of the blast of hot air experienced when
opening an oven. It was odd, but he appreciated the return to the
hot climate as he looked around at the area. The Sergeant lined the
men up and led them away to their temporary quarters.
Oscar watched a group of men come over and start to unload the
plane. Using forklifts, they removed the cargo from the plane and
loaded them onto trucks. Once a truck was loaded, they threw a
canvas tarp over the load and tied it down. Even as the men
worked on the plane, the other transport landed and taxied over to
a spot next to it.
He stayed there watching as the gear was loaded onto trucks. The
material filled seven trucks. He did some mental math and added
ten Hummers for the troops. He didn't like the numbers. It would
make a great target for terrorists and an easy one at that. The base
commander, having been told to expect a Druid, strode over to
Oscar and looked at the small red robed man. The gray cloak
obscured much of the robe. He asked, "You are the Druid Oscar
Meyers?"
Oscar, without facing the base commander, answered, "I am and
you are..."
Taken aback by the fact that Oscar hadn't looked at him yet, the
man answered, "I'm Colonel Peterson. We've made arrangements
for a hundred square miles. Ten miles by ten miles as you've
requested."
"Nice to meet you, Colonel," replied Oscar as he turned to look at
the base commander. In a voice that conveyed real concern, He
said, "This is not good."
The Colonel asked, "What's the problem?"
"Too big of a convoy. We'll get attacked as sure as I'm standing
here."
The Colonel replied, "This area has been pretty quiet lately. We'll
send out patrols before you leave. I wouldn't worry about it."
Oscar stood there for a moment as his eyes scanned the horizon.
He reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a very small
pair of binoculars. He scanned the horizon with them and then
said, "I'll make a bet with you. If I can take out the guy that is
watching this base from here, then you'll listen to my advice."
Colonel Peterson looked at Oscar, not quite believing that anyone
was watching the base, and replied, "Be my guest."
Oscar walked over to one of the boxes that had been unloaded. He
opened the box and removed a very long rifle with the largest
scope that the Colonel had ever seen. After moving a couple of
boxes, he pulled out a box of ammunition. Oscar walked over to a
stack of boxes and rested the gun on the box. He set up the front
support on the gun and opened the chamber. With deliberate
movements, he put in a single bullet and closed the chamber.
The Colonel watched him at work rather surprised at the
seriousness with which the man went about his business. This long
distance assassination violated the rules of engagement.
Concerned, he said, "You can't just shoot a man like this. You have
to make sure that they are the enemy."
"He's the enemy. I'm sure of that," replied Oscar as he looked
through the sight and adjusted the gun. At this range, the barest
fraction of a degree off would mean a total miss. He lined the
target up in the scope and took several deep breaths. He released
half of his last breath and held the rest. He squeezed the trigger
with a smooth gentle motion. A moment later the target fell to the
ground. Oscar looked up and said, "Let's go get him."
The Colonel, afraid that he was going to be stuck explaining why
someone killed a civilian, said, "I didn't see anything."
Irritated at the Colonel's stubborn refusal to do what had to be
done, Oscar retorted, "Come with me. It was a good shot, more
than a mile."
"Oh, come on now." The Colonel knew that it was virtually
impossible to hit a target over a mile away. This guy was getting
on his nerves.
Oscar walked over to one of the trucks carrying the rifle and got in
the drivers seat. The key was in the ignition. The Colonel, realizing
that Oscar would leave him behind, ran over to get in the passenger
side. Oscar drove the truck straight to the spot where his target had
been hiding.
As the truck chewed up the distance to the target, the Colonel sat
beside him staring in disbelief with how far Oscar drove. His eyes
grew big when he spotted the body lying on the ground. Oscar
stopped the truck and walked over to the body as a pistol appeared
in his hand as he moved. The Colonel had no idea where the pistol
had come from and stared in shock as Oscar fired a shot into the
body as he approached.
The Colonel looked back at the base, surprised that anyone had
been that close without getting spotted by the helicopter patrols.
Oscar flipped the body over uncovering a radio and said, "He's got
a radio that he's been using to report on troop movements. Let's
find his camp and see how long he's been out here."
As Oscar stood up, he picked up the rifle dropped by the terrorist.
He checked it out and then put the pistol in his pocket. He headed
into the rocks. About a hundred meters in, he found a small area
covered by camouflage netting. There were supplies for about a
month stay. He turned to the Colonel and commented, "He's living
off the food we dropped when we entered Afghanistan."
The Colonel explained, "There's still a lot of it around. They
confiscated it from the civilians when it was dropped."
Oscar looked up at the Colonel and said, "They are pretty well
stocked. Many of the caches that I found had Russian Rations.
They tasted like shit."
The Colonel asserted, "We're lucky you found this guy."
Oscar laughed as he answered, "Lucky nothing, there are at least
ten of them around here. I just had to find the closest one. They are
probably spaced out a half mile apart all around the base."
The Colonel stared at Oscar as he asked, "How do you know that?"
Oscar looked up from the stack of supplies. He took a grenade and
rigged it to explode as soon as one of the ammo boxes was moved.
He joined the Colonel as the man looked at his surroundings. Oscar
answered, "That's what I would do if I were one of them."
"What else would you do?"
Oscar looked around and pointed along the two roads leaving the
base. He said, "About five miles down each of those roads, I'd have
a small camp of five to ten people. As soon as one of these guys
says that a convoy is moving out, I'd have them set up bobby traps
along the expected route. Then I'd disband the camp after the
attack."
Surprised by the accuracy, with which Oscar had described the
activities around the base, the Colonel said, "That's exactly the
kind of ambushes we've been faced with in the past."
Oscar nodded at the news. He replied, "Now they've quit attacking
those convoys. However, they still get one occasionally and
usually the most significant one. Am I right?"
The Colonel swore, "Hell yes. How did you know?"
Oscar said, "You are fighting the masters of distributed warfare."
"What in the hell is that?"
"Loose groups that function on their own. Each group co-operates
with a few others. Imagine an army made of small groups of ten to
twenty men all under the command of a Sergeant. A thousand men
can create anywhere from fifty to one hundred such groups. No
middle ranks until you reach the top and the top only gives general
guidelines. It is a very powerful concept and one that is very tough
to fight. You have to hunt them down, one at a time. By the time
you take out one, they produce another unit to take their place."
Oscar stopped and looked around as a bird flew over head. He said,
"We had better get out of here."
He went to the truck and drove it back to where he had gotten it
from. He parked the truck and went to watch the location where
they had been. The Colonel joined him and asked, "So how do you
win?"
Oscar smiled and said, "Watch over there. It should happen any
time now."
The Colonel looked over at the area where they had been. He was
quiet for a couple of minutes and then asked, "What am I supposed
to see?"
Oscar didn't answer. A minute later there was a very large
explosion. Oscar smiled and said, "That."
"Oh."
Oscar continued, "You have to hunt them with an even smaller
force. As soon as you gather a large group together to go after
them, they scatter. One or two men can move within striking range
and take out a whole group. Take a hundred or so men working
alone and you can do tremendous damage to them that a thousand
men in a unit can't."
The Colonel said, "So what is your advice that you want me to
take?"
Oscar answered, "Don't move the material out until I tell you that
it's okay. Hide the trucks deep within the camp, where no one can
get to them. Guard them well and don't allow any locals near them.
Divide the material amongst all of the trucks. A few guns on each,
a few walls on each, and so forth. No truck should contain all that
we have of something."
The Colonel replied, "That's not very efficient. Makes it tougher to
load and unload."
"We won't end up at our destination short of some critical item this
way. I'd rather spend the time loading and unloading than waiting
for it to be replaced."
They walked to the Colonel's office. Along the way, they
encountered several locals that worked around the base. All of
them took one look at Oscar and spat on the ground, turning their
backs on him. Oscar noticed the action and thought about it a
moment. He realized that they recognized that he was a servant of
the Gods and Goddesses. The words of Omar, the man who had
given him his cloak, returned to him. The people would kill him on
sight of the medallion. He told the Colonel, "Everyone of the locals
will kill me the first chance that they get."
The Colonel had noticed the looks that had been sent in his
direction. He looked around, very nervous at the sudden tension in
the air. He had never seen the locals act in this fashion. He
answered, "I think you're right. I've never seen anything like this."
Calmly, Oscar looked around and said, "Don't worry. Why don't
you go ahead, I'll be right with you in a minute."
The Colonel was about to respond and then realized that he was
alone. He went on to his office. Reaching it, he stepped over to one
of the windows and looked outside at the locals. They were
looking around as though seeking something. Stepping over to his
desk, he picked up the phone and called the MPs to come over and
break up the activity in front of his office. He went back to the
window and watched for another five minutes. The MPs had
shown up and there was a major discussion. He shook his head as
he muttered, "All I need is for the Druid to get killed his first day
here."
From behind him, Oscar cheerfully said, "Oh, I wouldn't worry
about that, Colonel."
The Colonel spun around, surprised to hear the man behind him.
He stared as he asked, "How in the hell did you get in here?"
"I used my cloak to hide myself and then followed you in." Oscar
took off his cloak and then his robe. He stood there in desert
fatigues. He put his cloak back on, taking a moment to adjust it
correctly. He carefully rolled up the robe and placed it in a pocket
of the cloak. He said, "I don't want to walk around with a target
painted on me. Muslims will shoot me on sight. I'm viewed as an
enemy of Islam by them."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a Druid."
The Colonel looked at Oscar, surprised by the stated reason. He
asked, "Doesn't it bother you?"
Oscar thought about it for a minute and then answered, "Not really.
They serve their God and it is his law that they follow. Perhaps one
day that will change."
The Colonel decided that this guy was just beyond his ability to
fathom. He asked, "What now?"
Oscar gave the Colonel a chilling smile. He answered, "I go out
there and take care of my problems. I'll call in on the radio in two
days and let you know what time to send out the trucks."
<1st attachment end>
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