Moon Dust | Generation Kill

Chapter 8: When Life Gives You Lemons

With the rest of the company vehicles pulling in around her, Katie stood up straight, her eyes focused on the road ahead and Whiskey standing by her side, his ears perked forward, waiting for a command. 

Letting out a small bark, the German Shepherd alerted the marines to the oncoming vehicles before any of them even knew about the approaching trucks. "I got two pickups bearing down on us fast," one of the main gunners announced as he adjusted his positioning and aim. "Sir, I observe men with AKs. They're in the lead vehicle."

As the vehicles moved out of single-file formation and began to drive side by side, still no sign of slowing down as they approached the humvees, Katie side-stepped a little out of the middle of the road so that she and Whiskey wouldn't be injured should the men driving these trucks decide to just blow through the roadblock. 

Picking up the radio, Nate stood behind the closest humvee, his eyes focused on the fast-moving trucks. "Hitman, this is Hitman Two. We have two victors with armed Iraqis approaching. How copy?"

"Hitman, solid copy."

Just then, both trucks skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. The men in the trucks, two in the cab and two in the bed each, stared down the marines, their gazes pausing on Katie and Whiskey a moment longer than anyone else.

"Hitman, I am seeing armed Iraqis in civilian clothes in white pickups marked with red diamonds." Nate followed up with more information as the Iraqi's in the passenger seats got out. 

"Hitman Two, this is Hitman. Interrogative. Can you ... can you wave them off? Over."

Nate's face twisted with confusion at what he had just heard. "Hitman, this is Two. These are armed Iraqis in marked Victors with weapons pointed at us. Over."

"ROE states uniformed soldiers only, and they should be firing at us."

Katie drew in a deep breath as she stood behind the line of marines who had guns pointed back at the Iraqis. Whiskey was quickly becoming restless at her side with small barks here and there followed by slight prancing in place; even he knew something was wrong.

Looking back at Lieutenant Fick, Katie made eye contact with the flustered man as he continued his frustrating conversation over the radio. "This is Two. I'm requesting to at least snatch one victor, find out who these guys are. Over."

"Negative. Wave 'em off. Hitman out." 

With a defeated look on his face, Nate set the radio back down before stepping out into the open and waving off the trucks. Within seconds, the passengers had jumped back into the vehicles and the trucks were high tailing it back in the other direction.

"I had a beautiful headshot," Chaffin complained as he watched his targets drive off.

"We all did, brother." Rudy huffed as he lowered his weapon. 

Still peering down the scope of his gun, Brad followed the trucks with his eyes until they disappeared into the distance. "Our first contact with armed Iraqis and we wave at 'em like bitches."

Ray just shook his head in disbelief. "You know what happens when you get out of the Marine Corps? You get your brains back."

For about another hour or so Bravo Company remained in place, turning some Iraqi vehicles away and searching others. With the other men behind the humvees watching their backs, Katie and Whiskey searched a grand total of two vehicles, both owned by civilians and both containing nothing special enough for Whiskey to pick up on. 

Nate kept warning Katie to be safe when she approached the vehicles, and although Katie appreciated that he cared, she had done far too many vehicle inspections to be nervous anymore. Sure, she was always on high alert just in case something did happen, but she wasn't scared. There were a lot of scary things about being out in the open in the Iraqi desert that did worry Katie a little, but routine vehicle stops were not one of those things.