Moon Dust | Generation Kill

Chapter 7: Semper Simple

Her green dress and orange headscarf waved gracefully in the slight morning breeze, bringing about a feeling of serenity mixed with the harsh truth of reality. The girl looked no older than ten, and as she stood barefoot in the sand on the side of the road, she watched carefully as the American vehicles rolled past. 

For a split second, Katie swore she made eye contact with the girl, but before she could be sure or not, she was out of sight. In the past couple of hours, Katie had seen things she was sure even her worst nightmares couldn't conjure up, and in that short amount of time, she had also somehow started to become desensitized to it—which even though that might sound like a bad thing, it wasn't. 

The more desensitized Katie was, the easier it would be for her to focus on the task at hand. 

"All Hitman Two Victors, we take this turn, we're screening west with no adjacent support."

"This is it." McGraw's voice was over the radio not a second later. "We got no escort. It's just our thin-skinned humvees going against tanks."

Ray groaned. "Jesus, Captain America's a fucking retard. They need to keep that asshole off company-wide comms."

"It astounds me that someone so inept can be trusted to run a whole fucking company." Katie rolled her eyes and lowered her gun for a moment. "I think Whiskey could probably do a better job."

Ray took one hand off of the steering wheel and flashed a quick thumbs-up. "I vote dog Captain as well. First, we feed Captain America to the dog, then the dog takes over as Captain."

"What a simple, straight forward, two-step plan." Katie chuckled softly. "I like the way you think, Ray."

"Two One Alpha, this is Two One Bravo. We have a possible rocket tube at our two o'clock, five-hundred meters, that shiny thing. Over."

"Garza!" Brad called up to his main gunner. "Put your mark-19 at two o'clock, range at five-hundred."

 Adjusting his gun, Garza followed Brad's instructions and peered out into the distance. "I see a glinting, Sergeant. I can't tell if it's a pipe or a tank tube."

Lowering his eye down to the scope on his gun, Brad took a look for himself. "I glassed it. It's a pipe." He then turned on his comms so he could communicate with the rest of the company. "Two One Bravo, this is Two One Alpha. We see a pipe in a trash pile. Over."

"This is Two One Bravo. Roger that. Out."

Once all of the serious shit was out of the way, Ray turned around for a moment to look at Evan and Katie. "Tell you who the biggest fucking retard is: that Saddam Hussein," he began to explain, directing his words at the back seat passengers because he knew Brad wouldn't be interested in the least. "We already kicked his ass once, and what does this retard go and fucking do? He spends the next ten years pissing us off even more. We don't even want to be in this shithole."

Catching sight of Evan through the humvee's side mirror, Brad piped up and cut Ray off. "Stop scribbling," he told Evan, who had been jotting down little notes in his notepad. "It encourages him."

Not a minute later, the humvees began to move past a solitary building with about five or so men standing around outside of it. Tightening her grip on her gun just in case, Katie sat up straighter and kept her eyes peeled. "Stay frosty, Gents," Brad shared his wise words of wisdom. 

"Hey!" Garza shouted down from his spot on top of the vehicle.

Looking up at him, Katie eyed him from below. "What do you got?"

"I just waved at an Iraqi and he waved back." Garza smiled wide like a kid during their first trip to Disneyland. "That was cool."

"Good, Garza." Brad nodded. "Be magnanimous."