The Military Boy - At War

Chapter 3 | Under-Cover

~Flashback~

She's pointing the gun right at me. She's aiming for my head from where she stands six feet away. "Don't move a muscle!" She warns.

I couldn't move even if I wanted to. She was the most beautiful girl I had seen. Her striking blue-grey eyes seemed to look right into my soul and gave me an immense sense of calm in the midst of the madness around us. One second, I was sitting with a convoy of ground soldiers travelling to my airbase and the next, a group of Iraqi militiamen attacked us. The girl in plain western clothing, dark jeans and olive green t-shirt, combat boots and long blonde hair, a thick fringe of eyelashes, high cheekbones and wide pink lips with the most mesmerizing eyes I had ever seen... she came out of nowhere.

A shot rang out. I fell forward. The entire time I was falling, my thoughts seemed to process my movement in slow motion. Like an out-of-body experience, I thought if she just shot me, why am I falling forward? Behind me, someone cried out and when I turned my head to see who had just called for help. Another shot rang out, and the man's cries were silenced. 

She killed him. She wasn't aiming at me... she was aiming at him.

"You just killed the head of the Saudi ground forces. He was a prince." I tell her. This will definitely call for the death penalty if she's caught. "I know who he was. Prince Bandar, the sixth son of King Faisal Ibn Abdul Aziz." This was a calculated move. She intended to kill him. He was her target. Just as I'm about to ask her why she was targeting Prince Bandar, a militiaman carrying an M60 machine gun sneaks behind her, aiming for the back of her head. In a flash, I grabbed her gun and shot him, using her shoulder to steady my shot. The man dropped like lead to the ground while I felt a sharp point pressing into the base of my neck. She held a knife to my throat. "Hand me my gun, and I'll let you live." She hisses in my ear. Sweat was trickling down the side of her neck and dripping into the dark valley I could see just below the neckline of her t-shirt. 

I should be afraid of her - maybe I am.

 Is it natural to have the hardest cockstand in a situation like this? I'm afraid of her, and I'm fucken turned on by her. She should just put me out of my misery now.

"I was trying to save you, not kill you," I say and hand her the gun. Something intrinsic is telling me I can trust her. "You're welcome, by the way." She removes the knife from my throat and examines the guy on the ground that I just shot. "Shit! This is Fedayeen Saddam. Son of Saddam Hussein and head of the light infantry, previously the presidential guard and most recently head of the guerilla insurgents."

"Fuck! How was I supposed to know who he was! He was going to shoot you in the back of the head! Wait ... how do you know who he is...umm was? You're a hitman -hitwoman -hitperson -fuck, you're an assassin!" I run my hand through my hair and try to remain calm if that's even possible.

"Maybe I am. You certainly aren't part of ground forces. Why were you with this convoy?" She's perceptive. I'll give her that.

"I was travelling with them to the airbase 45 km from here. My fighter jet and next assignment are waiting for me there." I look around to see that some of the members of my convoy are lying face down in the sand, unmoving and limbs askew.

We need to get out of here before anyone sees us with these two bodies. Just then, we hear a click and look up to see a man recording us on his cell phone. He's recorded the fucken conversation. He turns to run, and instinctively we chase after him. I grab a rock from the ground and hurl it at his feet, causing him to fall face first. Just as we approach him and I grab his phone, we hear voices behind us yelling 'awqaf hadhyn' (Stop those two)!

"Come on!" I pull her along with me and duck behind the crumbling wall of a recently bombed home. "In here." I pull her into a crawl space under the broken staircase, pulling rubble to block us from view -Then we wait for the voices to subside. We are lying side by side, but there is just enough room, so we aren't touching. I can smell whiffs of coconut and vanilla from her hair, along with a stale yet piquant smell of our sweat. She points the gun to my crotch, keeping me frozen in the position I'm lying in. "You try anything with me, and I'll make sure no part of you is able to stand again."