by Brian Cotton
Chapter .24
The day took forever, that’s all Kaspar could think about. He lost track of the number of hours he sat on the old cot, the one that dipped straight down at the slightest introduction of weight. The thought of how nice his old mattress was helped Kaspar to get his mind off of the mission to come. The color of the sky outside revealed that the long day was nearly over. The inevitable was about to come.
Another thought struck his mind. He walked towards the closet and searched for the pants he had worn when he first arrived. He found them and dug into the right pocket. Nothing. Where in the hell was it? His hand entered the left pocket. He found what he sought at the bottom. He pulled it out and looked at the torn yellow fabric…
A knock on the door forced Kaspar’s mind back to the present. He opened the door to find Paxton standing there. He held a pair of hangers with black clothing. He looked at the old man. The two had not spoken since last night. Kaspar wanted to keep it that way as he grabbed at the hangers without saying a word.
Paxton broke the silence. “This is one of Zach’s. Might be a bit snug, but it should do until we get you fitted for one.”
“Thank you…”
“About our little disagreement last night…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kaspar said. “I stepped out of line.”
“Did you really mean what you said, though?”
“It just seems trivial to me, but you are the boss, so I’ll do as you say.”
“Nothing is trivial when it comes to innocent lives.”
“Yes, sir. Trust me, I know that all too well.”
“You have my word, as soon as things settle down, I will help you find them.”
“I appreciate that,” Kaspar said. He turned his body towards the bed with the hangers in hand. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
The door shut behind while Kaspar walked the hangers over to the bed. He laid the black suit on top then took off his clothes. He stood in his boxers, stared down at the suit, his heart picking up the pace in the process. He worked on the long sleeved black shirt first. He tried to get comfortable inside of it, but Paxton was correct in the assumption that it would fit snug. It would just be something that had to be dealt with for now. After he zipped the top up he worked on the pants, which too fit snug.
After he tucked the top into the pants, Kaspar moved around the room and tried to get used to the tight fit of the suit. Zach’s street clothes fit just fine. Just how skin tight did they need to make these outfits? Kaspar’s thoughts returned to that yellow fabric.
This is for you, Mother.
Kaspar found a safety pin on top of the dresser. He used the pin to attach the fabric over the right side of his chest. He played around with it a little bit which brought a smile to his face. Mother, she loved to knit, this was the last remaining evidence of that. Kaspar thanked the stars that he was able to find this little keepsake. To remind him of the real reason he joined up with these people.
Now or never time. Kaspar walked out of the bedroom and walked downstairs to join the others. They were gathered around the living room all decked out in black as well. The only difference being that they were outfitted with Kevlar vests. He sure hoped that he would get one, too. Maybe it was part of rookie hazing to make the newest team member go on the first mission without it. A ridiculous thought, but with everything that Kaspar had seen so far, it didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility. He glanced over and saw Kilbourne and Li inspecting their submachine guns. Kaspar desperately wanted one of those, too.
“You scared?” Krys asked from behind.
Kaspar turned and made eye contact, “No, not of them.”
“Who are you scared of, then?”
“Myself. I’m scared that I’ll go in there and not know what to do.”
“Just listen to your gut…and hope that your shooting has improved.”
Kaspar chuckled. On top of sitting on that old cot all day, he managed to spend the entire morning at the range. There was at least some improvement…during the three round bursts he hit the target every time. Maybe not in the most strategic spots, but to Kaspar, it didn’t matter. He even got to shoot a little bit with the UMP submachine gun and found that he enjoyed firing an automatic more than a pistol.
“We’ll see.” Kaspar said.
“What’s that?” Krys asked. She used her index finger to point at the yellow on Kaspar’s chest.
“It’s a reminder.” Kaspar replied.
“Of what? What is it?”
“It’s from my mother, she used to knit these blankets, all day, it’s all she did. This is from the one she worked on when…”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But, still…”
“I just need to remember why I’m doing this.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” Kaspar asked.
“Just remember,” Kilbourne’s booming voice said, “to stay calm and don’t let that patty ass of yours get the best of you.”
Kaspar started to say something back, but the room grew silent. Paxton walked in with Clarke close behind. The old veteran carried a flak jacket in one hand and an LWRC PSD in the other. Kaspar took this as a cue to move in.
“Flak jacket,” Paxton said as he extended it to Kaspar. “Could save your life.”
“Sounds good.” Kaspar replied. He fit both arms into the jacket and fastened the buckles around his chest.
“PSD, one of the finest weapons you’ll ever fire. Take good care of it and it’ll take good care of your enemies.”
Kaspar took the gun from Paxton. He slung the strap over his neck then adjusted the strap so it wasn’t so loose.
“I filled spare magazines for it in your jacket. Remember, the safety is on, so if we get into a tussle, make quite sure you flip it off.”
The comment got a laugh from everyone in the room, but Kaspar did not find it funny. Did they all just think he was some kind of jackass? Paxton extended his own PSD in front of Kaspar and showed where the safety was located. He also showed how to switch the gun from semi-auto, to three round burst, and to full auto.
Kaspar looked to Clarke who had even more items for him. Clarke handed over one of Kaspar’s Beretta pistols in a thigh holster, which he fitted around his right thigh. The nerd had something else: an American flag patch with Velcro on the back. Kaspar was instructed to attach the flag to his right arm and he did so. Clarke also had a pair of black gloves, which fit a little loose around the fingers, but would do just fine. One final item on display surprised Kaspar the most.
“To conceal our identities.” Paxton explained.
It was a black Balaclava with some kind of solid black eye pieces attached to the eye holes. The jet black lenses perfectly reflected the light from above. Kaspar tried it on and, like the outfit, fit snug over his head. He rubbed his hands along all sides of it to try and smooth it out. He looked over to Paxton through the tinted lenses.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Paxton asked.
“Let’s find out,” Kaspar replied.
