Moon Dust | Generation Kill

Chapter 23: The Absence of Fear

"All Hitman Two Victors, we are pushing on to Al Hayy," Nate's voice came over the radio. "Maintain 25 kph. Maintain dispersion."

It wasn't long before the somewhat peaceful ride through the dusty Iraq landscape was interrupted by gunfire. Out in the middle of nowhere with no idea where the attack originated from, the procession of armoured vehicles came to a sudden halt and marines began leaping from the humvees to take cover in the sandy ditch beside the road.

As soon as Evan was out of the humvee, Katie called for Whiskey to follow as she climbed over the back seat and launched herself out of harm's way. 

"Ray, get out of the vehicle," Brad ordered when he noticed the driver still seated behind the wheel. 

The real problem child, however, ended up being Trombley. With a shit-eating grin fueled by the adrenaline of being shot at, he knelt in the middle of the road and pulled out his binoculars; completely indifferent to the bullets ricocheting off the ground around him. 

"Kid's gonna get himself killed." Katie couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Trombley, get the fuck down!" Brad snapped as more gunfire went off. "That's a Zeus." He was able to identify the weapon based on sound alone.

"What the fuck is a Zeus?" Evan kept his head low.

"It's a russian antiaircraft gun," Walt answered. "There's a lot of barrels on that bitch."

While everyone else was busy trying to stay alive, Trombley remained focused on trying to locate the enemy. Gun perched on the road beside him, he continued to peer through his binoculars. 

"Trombley, you psycho motherfucker, get the fuck down," Ray shouted as a spray of bullets pierced a couple of humvee tires, deflating them instantly. 

"Hey, Sergeant, I think I see where the fire's coming from." Trombley glanced back over his shoulder at Brad. "It's at our 11, about 2000 yards, right by that tree."

Sighing, Brad turned to Walt. "Hasser, get on your gun," he said before climbing back up onto the road and snatching the binoculars from Trombley. He then dragged the suicidal Lance Corporal behind the hood of the humvee, which offered more cover than the middle of the road. "11 O'clock, 2,000 meters," he relayed the location to Walt. 

Soon enough the constant radio chatter in the background was drowned out by the humvee's M9. 

"Left 50 at 20," Brad instructed Walt to adjust his aim when the first round of bullets missed the target. "Left 10, up 10. On target!"

When the familiar sound of a helicopter flying overhead buzzed in Katie's ears, she looked up just in time to watch the missile launch toward the bushes in the distance where Trombley had located the attack. With a loud explosion and eruption of thick, black smoke, the company let out a series of cheers. 

Once the coast was clear, everyone began loading back up into their vehicles. Of course, a couple tires had to be changed before the unit could move out. 

"You psycho badass." Ray clapped Trombley on the back. 

"I know this may sound weird, but deep down, I kinda wanted to see what it feels like to get shot," Trombley said. "I mean, not actually shot, but ... I don't know, I just get more nervous watching a game show at home on TV than I do here in all this, you know?"

Ray just laughed before walking off. "That definitely sounds weird," Katie told him. 

"Hey." Anthony 'Manimal' Jacks gave Trombley an approving nod. "Not bad for an asshole."

Trombley's confused expression slowly turned to one of joy. Clearly, his idiotic stunt had gone over well with the men and they were starting to let go of some of their anger about the shooting incident. Personally, Katie wasn't so willing to forgive such a grave mistake, but she was also keenly aware of the nature of split-second decisions in war; she had made plenty of her own.