Moon Dust | Generation Kill

Chapter 5: Oscar Mike

"Your President is watching! America is watching! But more important, Godfather is watching." Sergeant Major Sixta shouted at the rows of marines, each one standing as straight and as still as the one next to them. "Make no mistake, there will be no fuckups! Marines around this world would gives they left nuts to be where you are! Anybody not want to go?"

"No, Sergeant Major!" the men and woman answered in unison, their voices carrying and echoing through the empty desert around them. 

Evan, who had an amused grin on his face, watched carefully with his notepad and pencil in hand. "Marines, kill on three!" Sixta continued. "One! Two! Three!"

"Kill!" Katie shouted along with the rest of the men, Whiskey sitting politely by her side and her eyes unblinking, even when sand blew into them. 

"Batallion, attention!" The rows of marines stood at attention at once. "Dismissed!"

Turning on their heels, the crowd of marines rushed back towards the gathered humvees and supply trucks. "Come." Katie tugged lightly on Whiskey's leash as she followed behind Ray, hoping he would lead her toward the right humvee as she still wasn't sure how to tell them apart yet. 

Opening the back door of the vehicle, Katie ordered Whiskey to jump in first before she slid into place next to him. Beside her, just like on the journey from the airport, Evan sat in his civilian clothes, his reporter gear by his side, signaling that he was all ready to venture out into the great unknown.

"Oh, great, now not only do I have a civilian reporter in my back seat, but I also get the dog." Brad groaned as he craned his neck to look at Katie and Whiskey. 

Katie wanted so badly to just get out and find another humvee to ride in but she knew that if she so much as rocked the boat, she would be gone faster than she could say the word 'screwby.' "Sir, are you scared of dogs?" she asked instead, hoping to find the reason behind the intense and unexplainable hate the Sergeant held toward her. 

"Scared of dogs?" Brad seemed almost offended by that accusation. "No, I'm not scared of dogs. I just don't think they have any place in the back of my humvee; especially when I know they're going to be shedding all over the seats." 

"If I promise to wipe the hair out of the back every night will you promise to stop hating him so much?" Katie reached down and gently pinched Whiskey's little dog cheeks. "Come on, you have to admit, he's pretty cute. Plus, he knows a bunch of cool tricks."

Brad just huffed, but from beside him in the driver's seat, Ray adjusted the rearview mirror and used it to look back at Whiskey. "She's right, Brad. He is pretty cute." He agreed with Katie. "Didn't you ever have a dog growing up?"

Brad adjusted himself in the seat. "No."

"That might be your problem." Katie turned to look at Evan and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Never trust someone who didn't grow up with pets."

"I can still hear you," Brad said. "I hear everything and see everything that goes on in my humvee." 

"Oh, okay." Katie not-so-subtly stuck up her middle finger and used it to scratch the bridge of her nose. "Did you see that?" There was no response, and with a slightly triumphant grin on her face, Katie looked out the window and watched as the men loaded into their vehicles as well. 

Emotions were high and there was an anxious excitement in the air, but that feeling only lasted so long. As one hour passed, and then another, and another, and another, the excitement faded away and was swiftly replaced with boredom. No one had any idea why they weren't moving and no one wanted to sit around for one more second if they could help it.