Marine

  MARINE

  Outside the Wire

  Afghanistan

  www.wickedpublishing.net

  wickedpublishingllc@gmail.com

  https://www.amazon.com/Shiralyn-J-Lee/e/B00658NYPY/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

  https://www.facebook.com/shiralyn.lee.5

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fqyb2WOob0s

  Dedication:

  To those who have served, and those who still serve, and to those who have lost their lives in the act of war. No one forced you do it; you chose to do it of your own free will, and because you could; because you were and are proud to serve, and because you wanted to protect your country. You are the brave who keep us safe, and we thank you every day.

  To those who have lost a brother or sister, or someone they considered family, in combat, your loss is truly heartfelt, whether you were blood related or not.

  We owe a great deal of thanks not only to the soldiers who risk their lives to protect us, but to the K9 Units who seek out IEDs and Insurgent fighters. Many K9 Units never make it home, and those who do, also are in danger of suffering from PTSD. These dogs are loyal and loving creatures as well as soldiers. We should remind ourselves of their importance as we honor those who keep us safe.

  My Grandfather was in the RAF, and as a child I didn’t understand just how dangerous his job was. Now, after many years, sadly he is no longer with us, and I can’t appreciate enough what he and the Military have done to keep us safe, no matter what country we live in, or what era a soldier lived in, or what participation they played.

  Acknowledgements

  To Colonel Devin C. Young for advising me.

  Thank you, author and screenplay writer Joe Gazzam, for hooking me up with the Colonel.

  Author’s Notes

  The research done on this book was one of the hardest I’ve experienced. I connected mentally with Marines and K9 Units from both US and UK forces. I’ve found out since writing this book, some had been killed in action, or wounded to the point where they’d be crippled for life. This has overwhelmed my heart.

  Prologue

  Every Marine will question why the hell they joined up in the first place, but they will always find an answer, as the demands of war take precedence over the need to go for a beer in their local bar, or watch their hockey team win against their rivals. Every Marine will fight for, and alongside, their brothers. Every Marine will protect those who need protecting. Every Marine will be a changed person.

  The military footprint has shaped the conflict in Afghanistan.

  Lance Corporal Lara Grayson, or Gray to her Brothers, has been stationed at a base camp in Jelawur, Afghanistan. She’s a dog handler, her partner, a German Shepherd, named Zabba, tracks down Taliban Insurgent fighters and IEDs. They take daily patrols, a few ‘klicks’—military distance in miles, outside of the camp. And when engaged in a firefight, they’re usually short lived. But not everyone on either side will come out alive.

  Tabatha Steel, a war reporter, has been captured by the Taliban, and when the patrol rescue her and her assigned cameraman, tension builds between her and Gray.

  Their meeting is a game changer, in more ways than one.

  Introduction

  The small population of the town of Jelawur live alongside a river, just outside the Green zone, and is surrounded by miles of desert. Marines have fought, inch by inch, to take the ground around the town and infiltrate the defense range. At times, they can ‘klick out’ completely without being harassed, and are able to move about freely, resulting in a faster reconnaissance process, giving Taliban insurgent fighters less time to set up traps and ambushes. This means being engaged in firefights with only three or four fighters at a time, as opposed to the masses of guerillas that had swarmed the countryside before the Marines had made their presence felt.

  Their mission is to disrupt and destroy the ability of the enemy to maneuver from place to place, and to catch them in the act of setting up IEDs, and to establish friendships with the locals. So far, Alpha Company had managed to stay safe, but even with the coalition’s presence, they still had a lot of work to do.

  The base, inside the wire, is a safer place to be, but not guaranteed. Outside the wire is a different story. There are no guarantees of safety; in fact, the chances of being blown to oblivion heighten immediately. Afghanistan is a tortured country, and for the World to understand just how bad things are, war reporters risk their lives to share daily accounts of what happens on the ground. Not all information can be reported for the World to know, as restrictions on deaths and injuries need to be reported to immediate family members first.

  Soldiers battle in temperatures above 40° centigrade, with sand and dust kicking up around them, and enemy fighters hiding out in surrounding fields, ready to ambush. It’s not a career for the faint of heart, and a fraction of a second can change a life…

  Forever.

  MARINE

  Outside the Wire

  Afghanistan

  Chapter One

  Sweat soaked the back of Gray’s t-shirt as she took an advance step toward Iggy with her lead foot. She then slid her back foot forward, before throwing the ball up near the basket. Then Iggy jumped, raised his arms up, and caught the ball mid-air and immediately scored a basket with a slam dunk.

  “Take that, mother-fuckers,” Iggy teased, showing off his smugness with his arms out wide, and dancing like a rooster under the already hot, early-morning sun.

  Blake lifted his t-shirt and, wiping the sweat from his face, grumbled, “Lucky shot, dickhead.”

  “Kiss my gorgeous black ass,” Iggy replied, then pouted his lips and batted his eyelashes—tormenting his opponent even further.

  “Don’t pull the race card with me—”

  “Hey, guys, it’s just a game. Although, we did kick your ass, Blake,” Gray jumped in with a heart-warming giggle. She snatched the ball from Iggy’s hands and bounced it once on the ground, then threw it hard at Blake. “Here, practice! You need it more than I do,” she joked while walking backwards, away from him, then high-fived Iggy when he moved alongside her, still full of bluster.

  “Suck my…”

  “…Sister’s pussy,” she quickly interrupted, and stuck her tongue between her teeth, tilted her head, and gave triumphantly sinister smirk. “You should see his sister, Iggy. She’s got tits like melons.” She grabbed her own breasts and pushed them upward to mimic her visual, her vest top riding slightly up her belly, revealing her bellybutton and firm, flat stomach.

  Iggy let out a school-girl type of laugh, then mimicked Gray in playfully touching his chest. “She got you there, Blake.”

  Clenching his fists by his sides and tightening his jaw muscles, Blake shook his head slowly, and in a low tone said, “Fucking bitch!”

  “I heard that. Your sister didn’t seem to think so at the time, though. She told me dirty-blondes were her favourite, lucky for me, eh?” She turned and placed a firm, playful slap on Iggy’s back. Both of them laughed quietly, with little bursts of snorts, as they walked away. “Come, Zabba,” she said to her German Shepherd.

  Zabba, who’d been sleeping in the shade cast across the ground by the wall, immediately pricked his ears up, opened his eyes and trotted over to her, remaining at the side of her legs as she walked.

  Iggy tilted his head, and a deliberate smirk rose at the corner of his mouth. His intrigue got the better of him, so he tapped her shoulder and asked, “Did you really fuck his sister?”

  She glanced sideways at him, winked, and gave a subtle smirk, with just a slight pouting of her lips. “I did do his sister, but as far as he knows, I’m just kidding with him; he doesn’t know she’s bi-sexual, so keep your mouth shut about that.”

  “You sly dog. You’re worse than a guy.”

  “O
h, really? So, being a female puts a label on me, does it? I like sex, Iggy. I like to fuck, and I like to fuck girls. That doesn’t make me worse than a guy, it makes me equal, not even that, there shouldn’t even be a contest between sexes. Maybe I should say I’m normal.” Folding her arms over her chest, she abruptly stopped walking, and favored her weight on one side. “It really pisses me off when women are compared to men, and if we commit the same human acts, we’re considered to be whores or sluts, or deserve what we get, yet when a man does the act, he’s a fucking sex god and gets a pat on the back from his buddies.”

  Iggy widened his eyes in stunned surprise. “Hey, I’m not the enemy here. I’ve had my troubles along the way. Where I’m from, being black makes it hard to advance in a lot of careers. People make assumptions before they even know who you are. I didn’t chose to be a marine, it chose me. So when you snap at me because you feel women are a minority, just remember who you’re talking to, okay?”

  Realizing the tension had stiffened her posture, Gray relaxed her stance. “I’m sorry, Iggy. I guess that’s one of the reasons why we get on so well.” She looked down at Zabba and held out her hand, indicating for him to nest his muzzle in her palm. “Good boy, Zabba, good boy.”

  Gray and Zabba had been partners for two years; they had a bond—a well-trusted relationship. Zabba was more than a working dog to her, he was an extension of her, and both understood each other’s moves and characteristics; they had to – one day, it could save their lives. They had a dangerous job in a dangerous country. Zabba, a highly-trained military dog, specialised in tracking humans and IEDs, and in Afghanistan, he was needed.

  •••

  The dry desert air tasted of hot, dusty sand, and no one was immune to sweating under the cloudless sunny sky. Deodorant was useless in the fight against sweat stains under the armpits, so half of the unit didn’t even bother to use it, including Gray. She was one of the boys, strong-willed, and ready to go into combat at a moment’s notice. And being that the base was a remote marine outpost, a moment’s notice was highly likely.

  “Grayson, I need to see you,” the Sergeant shouted from an open doorway. “You too, Iggy.”

  “Always a pleasure,” Gray muttered humorously. Iggy rolled his eyes upward, and nudged her arm with his elbow.

  “Hey, Gray!” Blake shouted, then threw the ball back at her just as she turned around.

  Gray deftly caught it and gave him a smug smile. If only you knew I’d fuck your sister again, given the chance.

  They entered the building, walking through a narrow passage until they reached the Staff Sergeant’s office. Staff Sergeant Williams stood behind his desk, his face waxy from perspiration.

  “I’ve received orders from a unit requesting the use of a dog to search for Taliban Insurgent fighters, who’ve been reported hiding out in a nearby village. Grayson, you and Zabba can take this mission, and Iggy, I want you to go with them.”

  Gray knew how dangerous this mission could be. It wasn’t just about taking the life of the enemy, it was about the probability that someone who wasn’t an enemy could be killed, or someone whose family were being held at gunpoint, perhaps their child. It was a guaranteed clusterfuck waiting to happen. No one knew who the real enemy was. They couldn’t tell who the Taliban were, there was no way of knowing what they looked like, no way to tell them from the general population. Even children could be the enemy. One moment they’d be at your side offering any service you wanted, no matter how miniscule, then the next time you’d see them, they’d be slitting the throat of another child, an act encouraged by their elders to prove themselves worthy of adult crimes. There was no sense of morality, just survival. Up in the mountains, isolated villagers had no idea that the soviets had left and a new war had started. There were incidences where farmers were paid a sum of money to fire at patrols as they walked past, only to be killed themselves, and all because they were trying to save their family from torture. It was a shit situation to be in. No one was educated, and they all lived more or less in the dark ages, where each isolated village had their own language. They just wanted to be left alone, by the presence of the military and by the presence of the Taliban.

  During the time Gray and Iggy had been in Afghanistan, they’d seen things, awful things. Young soldiers blown to pieces, or injured from IEDs. Mothers and their children tortured and shot. Men, both young and old, deliberately maimed to prevent them from fighting. It was enough to harden them up, and make them hate the Islamic religion, but then, there had been times when a Civilian local had been shot, and their emotions just flooded out. Before Gray had partnered up with Zabba, she’d been on tour with another dog, Jake. He’d been trained in searching out IEDs. On their final mission together, they had been searching a walled compound, but when Jake showed signs that something wasn’t right, a bomb went off and killed him instantly. It broke Gray’s heart, but it was from this that she became determined to catch the bastards who made these bombs, and either kill them or have them put away.

  When she and Iggy arrived in Afghanistan, their first impressions were that it was like any other third world country: dirty, confused, and filled with people. The Afghan police patrols had cars with 35mm machine guns mounted on them, and government buildings were like fortresses, with blast-proof doors and concrete barricades. But the military presence kept the peace, and brought an economic boost to the area, which meant the locals were happy to have them there.

  •••

  The heat built fast, hitting 80° by mid-morning. Gray and Iggy were traveling in an armored tactical vehicle, with Zabba on the floor behind his partner, watching through the window as they drove toward the local village, with Blake and Vince driving in the ATV behind them. The Joint Light Tactical Vehicle offered trusted performance for its users, which enabled ground operations to keep moving. Engineered to take bullets and drive over roadside bombs, it gave Gray and many other users the confidence they needed during any kind of conflict. But even with the added security, they still kept a keen watch on the surrounding terrain, looking for an unexpected attack from a sniper.

  “You know, when I first signed up, the thing I wanted more than anything was blood. I wanted these people to pay for the crimes they’d committed against our country. But then, when I came out here, my focus changed. Now, I just want to make sure I go home alive with all my limbs,” Iggy informed her.

  Gray continued to cautiously watch their surroundings, while Iggy drove. “I think some soldiers have delusions of single-handedly winning the war during their deployment, but it usually turns out they just end up fighting bureaucracy bullshit.”

  “It’s an intimidating country; the people know only two things: fear and survival. I mean, has our presence even achieved anything? The Taliban are still a menacing, controlling body.”

  Surprised by his opinions, she cut from watching through the window and looked at Iggy. “I’d say we have. The locals’ lives have improved just because of our presence; they’re learning to stand up for themselves, and their opinions of the US military have changed, even though it took a while. They see that we do have kindness, and that we offer help where they wouldn’t have received anything from their own.”

  Iggy let out a sarcastic-sounding huff. “You think these people will stand up to the Taliban? One day a farmer can be a member of the Taliban, the next day he’s cheering for the American presence. He’ll be on anyone’s side who can keep him and his family safe for another day; that’s the way it is here.”

  Gray shook her head and smirked from one side of her mouth, then looked back out of the window to continue her search for snipers. “I get what you’re saying, but I feel you’re classing all of them with the same nature. Yes, there are those who will always change with each new sunrise, but you can’t tar everyone with the same brush.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a radio call from Blake. “We have visual on our guys at the edge of the village. You two pussies ready?”

  Zabba ti
lted his head and panted. His long tongue drooled, so he licked his lips and let out what could only be interpreted as whimpering response to the word ‘pussies.’

  “Did Blake annoy you, Zabba?” Gray lightheartedly asked him.

  “Like he’s goanna answer you,” Iggy chuckled.

  Zabba grumbled.

  “See, he understands,” she smarted off.

  They reached the edge of the village, where another armed unit had been waiting for them to arrive before continuing their patrol. After being informed there were Taliban insurgents hiding out in the village, they knew there would be homes within the compound where weapons and possible bombs were being held, or where they’d been building improvised explosives. Before the unit could safely enter the compound, Gray and Zabba had to conduct a house to house search, and while Zabba walked on his leash ahead of his handler, Gray kept her attention focused on the ground ahead for any possible signs of buried IEDs, and also kept her mind focused on the game, knowing not to drop her guard.

  “Is the area clear?” Blake radioed.

  “This area’s cleared,” she radioed back after walking ten feet into the alleyway. They reached the edge of a building, and with Iggy making his way ahead of her, he leaned back against the wall and peeked around the corner.

  The unit caught up to them, guns ready to fire in an instant. Everyone maintained a watchful eye, looking up at rooftops, and checking mud walls had no one waiting to shoot over them. Iggy checked again to see if the coast was clear, then waved his hand to indicate it was safe to continue moving ahead.

  They walked around the corner until they reached the edge of another mud wall. Two members of the unit checked to secure the next alleyway was clear, and stepped around the corner. Then, everything happened so fast. An IED exploded, carrying dust and grit, and the screams of both Marines. Gray, Zabba and the rest of the unit immediately retreated back to the previous building, with Blake and Vincent quickly walking backward in front of them, with their M16 rifles pointed and ready to shoot.