99 Voicemails

(99 - 99) = ?

I dedicate this chapter to the wonderful RaghaddMurad who made the above cover for 99 Voicemails. He makes amazing covers and check his cool books :)

#0

"Sire! Please be quick. I don't think I can cover up for long. If the major or colonel arrives here, I'm really sorry sire but I can't lie to them." The newly appointed sergeant says nervously.

"I will be quick and you don't have to lie. Just tell them I went down for a bowl of cabbage stew." I say, donning a thick black leather Jerkin over the other two, those failed miserably to do their job.

"Sire... But you know the rules cl-" He starts rather nervously and that gives me the cue to shamelessly flaunt my rank to terrorize him and break the ground rules.

"Yes. I know the rules more clearly than you do Wilkins. And that's why I'm a higher grade official than you are. I hope you got that right." I say with more force than necessary and grit my teeth, fixing him with my steady unnerving and malignant gaze.

Proving my assumptions right, he withdraws his rather small form into his cabin, compared to which he is bigger in size. The government must be going crazy to appoint people with such short or no experience like him. Then again, who would have known they would live to see the great Civil war that was terrorizing the country? Or die after seeing much of it?

There hasn't passed a day I haven't been proud of my skills and abilities and the best of my efficiency. But now, there isn't a day that passes without cursing myself for having been the best in my field. Because the best were put out in the boundary to behead and root out the terrorism right at the entrance, so that it wouldn't penetrate the motherland and defile her with widow's wailings, children screamings and pollute her with the bloodstreams from the innocent.

"Afternoon Lieutenant!" Payne's voice booms and he stands erect with a neat salute.

"Blimey! Afternoon still? I thought it was evening. These assholes ain't letting us wear a goddamn watch." I know it is afternoon. Of course I do. I need fake mannerisms now.

"Haha. Yes Lieutenant. What can I do for you?" A Vietnamese war cry would be as humorous than his strangled 'haha'. We both knew it was dead fake.

"I ... Err" Realising I'm stuttering, I turn my stutter into a cough.

"Cold? I'm dealing with the same shit for weeks." A chipmunky voice erupts from within the toll gate's tent and Abu's head emerges.

"Mr.Hassan Good to see you." I reply with a formal tone and for some reason, a new found hope ramifies inside me.

"Oh hell with the bloody manners Henry! Its always good to see a fellow human in this wretched piece of snow covered graveyard." I couldn't help but chuckle a little. That man always speaks the truth.

"You always speak the truth Mr.Hassan" I give him a thumbs up and a widespread grin.

"That's because I'm always drunk Laddie!" He says and holds up a tin of gin.

"Ummm. What brings you here at this hour Lieutenant?" Payne questions for the known answer.

Confidence is the key. You're a lieutenant. He can do nothing against your order. I remind myself and rehearse my lines inside my head to see if I sound okay or arrogant or like a mewling cat. I choose the friendly route.