The Marine – Chap 10 – by UltimateSin
A/N — This is the last chapter to take place in this category for the time being. Further information is at the end of this chapter, and it might be worth revisiting what I said at the start of Chapter One in regards to where this series may possibly end up. To ease any fears, this story will have a happy ending and will end with the story ending back in this category but… well, I don’t want to spoil too much otherwise.
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“Those fucking cunts,” one of my men muttered. There was plenty of agreement, some just calling them curses, a few derogatory comments which, in that moment, could be well and truly forgiven. We’d spent time in Afghanistan and Iraq fighting some of these fuckers. We were not the first target. Madrid had been bombed the previous year, the first sign the war was expanding. The loss of life there had caused a grip of fear across Europe.
It was July 7th, 2005. What we were witnessing on the TV chilled us to the core. The war we’d been fighting thousands of miles away had visited the streets of London. In the middle of watching the TV, everyone was texting loved one’s. Hannah was in Bristol, though I still text her, just to make sure she was okay, safe and sound at home. But Emma worked in London. Thankfully, she had text me first, letting me and the entire family know she was safely at home. With London locked down for the time being, and with no car to get away, she was going to sit tight but insinuated she wanted me to come get her.
My phone had lit up with messages from everyone back home. Amy called, as expected, and I put her mind at ease immediately, though Mum was quickly on the phone to me as well, almost desperate to hear my voice.
“What are we going to do, sir?” one of the younger men asked. His question was followed by others. I heard the tone in all of them.
“We’ll do something when we get orders, Marine.” A few turned their eyes from the TV to me. “No problem having your own private thoughts. I would suggest to all of you that you keep most of them to yourself. Understood?”
“Sir,” they replied in unison.
I stood up and turned off the TV. “We still have our assignments. Watching this isn’t productive. Whatever you’re feeling right now, swallow it down for now, get on with your jobs. If you need to talk, my door is open. I’ll remain on base tonight and all day tomorrow.”
Even those older nodded at me in appreciation. They had wives, children, families. The attacks looked bad. Madrid had been awful. There had been other attacks since, many of them foiled, but there’d been attempts. But this was almost a reminder of the old days when Northern Ireland had been a fucking mess, and the IRA brought the ‘troubles’ to the shores of the mainland. The enemy we were fighting seemed almost invisible, particularly if they were on our own streets.
I messaged Emma that night, asking if she wanted me to drive to London the next night, being a Friday. She lived in the south-west, and she called me immediately, asking to come as soon as possible. She wasn’t frightened, not too much anyway, but she would feel far safer with me. No surprise Hannah called me lunchtime the same day, letting me know she was going to meet me at my apartment so she could go with me.
Soon as she got in my car, she hugged me tightly. I knew why. She was already over-thinking the reaction. Soon as I put the car in gear and got us onto the motorway heading east, I took her hand. “Hannah, they’re not just going to throw us into the grinder in revenge.”
“I know. But it’s hard not to think that this is going to provoke one hell of a reaction.”
“There’ll be a reaction but it will be tempered. It only happened yesterday.” I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere for a while.”
Emma shared a small apartment with a friend, though she was already downstairs waiting for our arrival. Hannah and I got out and hugged her tightly. “You can stay with me as long as you want,” I said.
Driving us back west, we agreed to get some takeaway not far from my apartment, handing them the plastic bag of food as I carried their small packs upstairs. Only once I had shut the door did Emma seem to relax. I knew why she was actually terrified but putting on a brave. She travelled through one of the bomb sites every morning and evening, going to and from work.
After eating, I sat back on the couch, Hannah cuddling to my left, Emma to my right, putting on a movie so we didn’t really need to think about anything. I knew there was nothing I could do myself. This was real life. I wasn’t going to tool up and go on a one-man rampage against an invisible enemy. I was a Marine, I took orders, I did my job.
Still, I wasn’t the only one with a burning desire to go catch the fuckers. Perhaps break the Geneva Convention when it came to dealing with them as prisoners.
But I managed to clear my mind all that, kissing Hannah and Emma on the cheek, the latter releasing a giggle. “Thank you for coming to get me,” she said softly.
“I’d have come yesterday, but I have no doubt getting to or from London would have been difficult.” I gave them both a squeeze, a soft kiss on the lips for both of them. I knew they’d already be worried about me being sent off again rather quickly. The reaction would be tempered, but an attack on British soil? Whoever was responsible was going to be hunted down, whether at home or abroad.
None of us were in the mood that night, Hannah spooning back against me, Emma was even smaller so spooned against Hannah. All of us had clothes on, as although not in the mood, nudity would lead to something. So they liked the idea of at least wearing one of my t-shirts and panties, while I still had underwear on. Emma made sure my right arm was stretched far enough she could hold onto it all night.
Emma and Hannah stayed with me for a week. I went into work each day, and we just got on with the job at hand, though I heard plenty of conversations from the men about what should be done next. I didn’t mind the conversation, them getting whatever was on their minds and chest out. Better than carrying it around. Most of it was a simple case of ‘Hunt down the fuckers and kill them. It’s what we’re trained to do.’
“Think some of you have been reading too many paperbacks,” I muttered.
“Sorry, sir.”
I waved it away. “You’re echoing the thoughts of millions. We claim to be a civilised people, but after such an atrocity, even the best of us wants blood in return. We’ve already been fighting them for three years. The only thing I think we all got wrong is that it would never end up happening within our own borders. There was always bound to be a reaction from the other side.”
Before leaving on Friday, we were summoned to a briefing by the base commander. All of us knew why. Rumours always spread before the news of deployment was actually confirmed. When we were all sat down, what we were told wasn’t a surprise. In two weeks, we’d be deployed back to Basra. Shit was hitting the fan, and after what happened, the British couldn’t appear weak.