by Don Bendell
Charlie got his mom a room at their hotel and left her with Fila’s parents to visit and have dinner, as Fila said that she needed to speak with him privately.
She was in the bathroom in the hotel, and he sat at the desk in the room and hollered, “Hey, Fila, do you want to visit the Badlands National Monument?”
She came out of the room and said, “No, thank you.”
Charlie looked up and Fila was wearing a short gown that looked like a super-long T-shirt. It was black, and on the front it had a large green beret with a dagger diagonally behind it, and above and below it the words “I only sleep with the very best . . . US Army Special Forces.”
Fila walked over to Charlie, and he stood. She unbuttoned and removed his shirt, walked around him seductively, and ran her hands over his chest. Next, she dropped down on her knees in front of him and unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled them off, followed by his socks.
She stood and looked up into his eyes, saying in a husky voice, “Ever since you proposed, I have been feeling giddy, very giddy,”
Charlie remembered his words to her and swept her into his arms. He picked her up, as if she weighed nothing, and carried her to the bed. He knew he must be slow and patient and careful, but he wanted to anyway.
Charlie kissed her slowly and then looked into her eyes from inches away, saying, “Fila, I prayed for a woman I could spend my life with, have many children with, and love forever. It was right after that prayer that I met you. You are my Buffalo Calf Road Woman, but you are also my Cleopatra.”
They kissed, and she whispered, “In the thirteenth century a Persian poet and mystic named Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi said, ‘The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers do not finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.’ Charlie, I want you in me now.”
The next day, they said good-bye to Dave and Angela, who Charlie thought would be awesome in-laws. Fila already loved Betty and vice versa.
They took her back home, dropped her off, and went to the convenience store, and then returned to say their good-byes to Betty before flying back to Raleigh and taking the shuttle to Fayetteville. They had decided the night before that they would make up for lost sleep on the plane.
When they pulled up in front of the house, there was a gang of young Lakotas standing by Charlie’s mother’s propane tank. All were in their late teens and early twenties, and they had a sneer found only on those who congregate in a gang for strength.
Charlie’s mother was standing on her front stoop, and Charlie could see by the stressed look on her face that she must have just had words with the punks. He and Fila jumped out of the car and ran up to her as one of the gangbangers made some smart remark and the group laughed. A Pine Ridge Tribal Police cruiser pulled up just then, as Betty had called on her cell phone when the punks started smarting off to her while they spray-painted her propane tank. The officer inside was also named Charlie, Sergeant Charlie Ten Horses. Charlie Strongheart recognized him and waved him off and the cruiser sped away. This bothered the gang members. Why would the cop leave, they wondered, and why was he laughing when he did?
Charlie and Fila escorted Betty inside, and she told them the gang members openly spray-painted the tank, and she came out to confront them and chase them off. Then one of them, the one in the red ribbon shirt, she said, had flipped her the middle finger and cursed her horribly. Next, the one in the baseball jersey threw an empty beer bottle at her, and it broke on the front of the house.
Charlie opened the front door and looked at the front of the house where the bottle had smashed and saw pieces of glass on the ground.
The one in the ribbon shirt was the gang leader, named Louie Horse.
He yelled, “Git your punk-ass back in the house, Holmes, or we’ll shoot it.”
At the same time, he spread his thumb and index finger out in almost a V-sign, a gang sign indicating he was armed. As the punks all laughed, Charlie stepped back into the house and closed the door, looking out through the curtains. The gang members were laughing and patting Louie on the back.
Fila walked up and looked out through the sheers, saying, “Formulating a plan?”
Charlie chuckled and said, “Of course.”
She said, “Need me?”
He said, “No, honey. You stay with Mom. I just need to borrow your Glock.”
She handed it to him and stuck two spare magazines in his left hip pocket, saying, “Try not to kill anybody.”
He said, “I won’t. Just going to educate them.”
Charlie thought back to his childhood. He had always been puzzled by men like these in the gang. They felt the same fear he and every other man felt, but they succumbed to it. He wondered how they would be able to go the rest of their days knowing that they had sneaked away from their duties as a man like a thief in the night. Avoiding hard work, responsibility, and life as young men, he felt they copped out and banded together for mutual support.
Charlie grinned as he remembered a conversation with his uncle Eddie. The man had been an LRRP (long range reconnaissance patrol) member of some great repute in the 1st Cavalry Division in Vietnam. Until an AK-47-toting Viet Cong had missed his chest and put a bullet through the back of Eddie’s right hand. His youth and his wild fighting days were over, so he decided to settle down and return to the rez.
The man and young Charlie were having a conversation about courage one day when the uncle said, “Young ’un, the difference between a coward and a hero is about one minute in time.”
Charlie was perplexed by that statement, and it bothered him for a long time afterward, but he had finally gotten a handle on it. He got into a fight with two brothers whose family lived in another neighborhood on the reservation. Their family and his attended the same church, but the two brothers were about the furthest thing you could get from walking the Christian walk of life. They were troublemakers from the get-go.
The two bullies simply beat up everybody, and finally Charlie’s turn came up. Everyone had backed down from the bullies because they were so tough and brutal. They would chase a person down and beat him senseless. When one of them started to pick on Charlie, he tried everything he could think of to avoid getting into a fight. When one of the two, however, made some disparaging remarks about a girl in Charlie’s church whose father had been arrested for public drunkenness, Charlie finally had had it, thinking about his drunk of a father and all the pain and embarrassment he had caused Charlie. He was scared—the bullies’ brutality had become legendary locally—but he was beyond caring at that point.
Charlie managed to seem so ferocious in his demeanor alone that the two bullies looked a little unsettled. The boy had heard somewhere that a man using his head had a much better chance in a fight than one who just used his muscle, so he tried to think his way out of trouble. When the first punch was thrown, it landed square on Charlie’s temple and sent him reeling to the ground. His right hand closed around a smooth, egg-shaped rock lying on the ground, and he grabbed it without his adversaries noticing.
The two brothers ran up, and both kicked him in the rib cage, knocking the wind out of him and severely bruising his ribs. Most boys would have folded over and cried, but this simply made Charlie furious. He came off the ground with a fury and tore into both brothers. His fists were swinging so wildly and so quickly, nobody noticed the rock sticking out of the ends of his right fist. The faces of the bullies, however, showed signs of the rock. Within a minute, both brothers were lying on the ground unconscious, each sporting two black eyes and a broken nose. Charlie dropped the rock behind his back and nobody ever saw it.
He became the hero of the young girl he had defended, and of the whole community. His repute grew each year as he grew, as did the story of the fight with each telling. In actuality, part of the reason he went off to join the army was his worry that the two bullies might try to get retribution. It bothered him to leave like that, but as he grew and gained
confidence, he realized how smart he had really been. One thing he never forgot was the butterflies he’d felt in his stomach when he’d had to face the two bullies, and the great fear that had clutched at him. It would have been so easy to start his life out as a coward back then; instead, Charlie Strongheart chose to act like a man. That decision made him a hero, which he had proven many times since.
He went out the door with his Glock 19 in his right hand behind his back and walked rapidly toward the gangbangers. His rapid walk toward them and the look on his face unnerved them. His hand went to the back of his waistline, and Charlie knew he was going for a gun, so Charlie’s right hand came out holding the Glock 19 as he went into his modified Weaver stance, his left arm up in front of his chest, fingers up and wrapping comfortably around the grip of his right hand.
Louie was wearing a large fake diamond earring in his left ear. While he raised his gun, Charlie smiled on purpose to scare them even more, and he said, “Nice earring, punk.”
Flame belched from the gun with a loud bang, as they all ducked, and Louie screamed, dropping his cheap little .380 pistol on the ground, as he grabbed his left ear. The ring and the bottom part of his earlobe were gone. Blood oozed out between his fingers.
They all stood, and suddenly a second Glock, Fila’s, appeared in Charlie’s left hand.
“Oh, man, battle,” Charlie said enthusiastically. “Come on, punks. You started the dance, and I love to fight, so let’s rock and roll! This is cool! I have a hard-on! Come on, assholes. It’s party time.”
One of them who was fairly slender started vomiting, and his legs were visibly wobbly.
Charlie knew he was significantly outnumbered, so he spoke in a very bold and gross manner in order to gain a psychological advantage. He pointed both guns from one gang member to the next and back.
Then he said, “You boys wanted to fight. I am not a sweet old lady, like my mom is in that house. I am a real warrior. Any pussy can throw beer bottles at little old ladies. Let’s do battle. I am ready to kill. You want to go home and get your daddies? I’ll do battle with them, too. You have to have more guns.”
He paused to give his remarks greater affect.
“Speaking of that, each of you that has one or a knife, toss it in front of me. If I catch you with one on you, I will shoot you dead.”
Two more guns were tossed out and three sheath knives and one Boy Scout pocketknife.
Charlie yelled, “Fila!”
The front door opened, and Charlie said, “Tell my mom to come out, and you come here, too!” Fila and Betty came out on the porch, but Fila walked out to Charlie and stood behind and to his left.
“Baseball jersey!” Charlie said. “Grab your baseball hat by the brim and throw it straight up in the air as high as you can!”
The young man complied and Charlie yelled, “Fila!”
Without looking at her, he tossed her Glock back to her with his left hand. She caught it in her own modified isosceles gunfighter’s stance, and three shots rang out as the hat flew with each and sailed to the ground with three holes through it.
Charlie commanded, “Go pick it up and bring it here for your friends to see.”
Betty yelled from the porch, “My son is a Green Beret and a mighty warrior. You little brats better not mess with me again!”
Charlie looked back to his mom, shaking his head, while wearing a big-toothed grin.
The baseball brat showed the hat with three neat holes through it. They all were amazed.
Charlie said, “You know, sometimes it is not very smart to make war on women. You never know what you might be getting yourself into.”
He grabbed Louie by the bloody ear, squeezing what was left of it, and dragged him in pain, almost on his tiptoes, over to Betty.
Charlie yelled at the rest, “All of you, come here!”
While still wearing a big grin, Charlie said, “Mom, these gentlemen starting with Bloody Ear all want to apologize to you.”
Charlie gave Louie’s ear a squeeze, and he screamed in pain before saying, “Ma’am, I am very sorry. I am very, very sorry.”
All the rest of them started apologizing profusely.
Charlie said, “Mom, you can call the PD and tell them to send Charlie back.”
She went in and reappeared with her cell phone, speaking on it.
Charlie said, “What is your name, punk?”
“Louie Horse, sir.”
“Well, Louie, first let me tell you all about my gang. If you want to belong to a tough gang and win every fight you ever get in, grow some balls and join my gang,” Charlie said. “Our gang colors are forest green and digital camo, and it is the baddest, toughest gang in the history of the world. My gang is called the U.S. Army Special Forces. If you guys want to fight and want to belong and do some good, then join the U.S. Army and try to get into my gang, if any of you are tough enough, which you are not.”
He tucked his Glock away in the folds of his clothes, and Fila followed suit.
“Now, Louie,” Charlie said, “I am going off to war again, but I can come back anytime, or I can send a friend. I am making you head of security for my mom while I am gone. If someone throws a cigarette on her lawn, I will hold you responsible. If someone disses her at the grocery store, or if she even has to carry a bag of groceries again, I will hold you personally responsible. Do I make myself perfectly clear to all of you?”
“Yes, sir!” they said in unison, then Louis added, “Don’t worry, sir, we have your mom’s back. Nobody will ever screw with her.”
The PD cruiser pulled up and the other Charlie got out and walked up.
Charlie Strongheart stuck his hand out and shook with the officer, saying, “Been a long time. Hi, Charlie.”
“Hi, Charlie yourself,” the cop said. “I heard you got killed in Iraq or was it Afghanistan?”
Charlie said, “Neither. I am still alive, bro. You are mistaken. It must have been another Charlie.” He went on. “Officer, young Louie Horse here had an accident with his pistol laying over there and accidentally shot his earlobe off. Thinking weapons in the wrong hands can be a bad thing, all these gents decided to turn all their weapons in to you. They are laying there on the ground. They knew that they will be very busy anyway. They have decided to clean up around my mom’s house and yard, and starting with Mom’s, they decided to get some paint and paint over all the gang graffiti on all the propane tanks and buildings in the neighborhood. Didn’t you, guys?”
“Yes, sir!” they all yelled enthusiastically.
Charlie Ten Horses said, “I am glad that somebody was finally able to talk sense into you guys. I tried to tell you all to take pride in being Sioux. Don’t buy into the lame excuses reservation losers use to become failures.”
Charlie went into the house with his mom and Fila and sat down.
Betty started laughing and Charlie asked what was so funny.
She said, “You two are getting married. I was just thinking what would happen if some burglar ever tried to break into your house.”
All three started laughing.
An hour later, after some talk and good-byes, they went outside to leave, and Charlie grinned as he saw the entire gang walking up the street with a gargantuan Lakota man in the middle front. Several of them carried bags.
The man walked up to Charlie and said, “Are you Charlie Strongheart?”
Charlie nodded.
He pointed at Louie, who was wearing a large bandage on his ear and said, “Louie is my son.” He stuck out his hand and said, “Thank you, sir. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
The man turned and walked away. The gang members pulled brushes and cans of paint out of the bags and immediately started painting the propane tank. Two guys pulled out cleaning supplies and walked over to the house and started cleaning where the beer bottle had hit.
Charlie and Fila got in the car and pulled out, waving at Betty.
Little did Charlie know that within the next year, two of those boys wou
ld start back working on their GEDs, one would join the navy, and four, including Louie, would join the army.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Time to Go
WHEN they got back to Fort Bragg, the Quick Reaction Force Team under Custer, now referred to as Team Dog Soldier, in honor of Charlie, had practiced various rescue scenarios repeatedly and had made mock-ups of different Iranian buildings and houses.
Charlie and Fila immediately started practicing with the car and found all the devices located on it. It had been armor-plated and fitted with all kinds of neat devices, which had been learned from the super-secret British 14 company.
They stopped speaking in English and only spoke in Arabic and Persian. Charlie started wearing the specially made hearing aids and practiced all day long and part of the evenings with the team of linguist/translators provided for him by the Central Intelligence Agency and the Defense Intelligence Agency.
Davood was being watched day and night, and Detachment-Delta had a constant stream of reports every time he moved, which was very frequently. He had built a large compound southwest of Tehran and started training his operatives there. Many were assembled there now, being trained on all aspects of jihad.
Within three weeks, Charlie, Fila, and the entire team were on the ground in Mosul, awaiting the green light. They stayed in air-conditioned trailers that had been brought in, and which remained on the edge of the tarmac. The Rangers stayed there, too, and maintained a tight twenty-four-hour-per-day security perimeter for the Delta operators.
Finally, after a week, the message came in. An operative had delivered a message to one of Davood Dabdeh’s lieutenants about a wealthy Iraqi businessman with an Iranian wife wanting to meet with him privately about conducting business. Charlie’s character would hire Davood’s trained terrorists to sabotage American offshore drilling rigs, and he would also use them to kidnap wives and family members of the American oil companies drilling at the new platforms because of the oil crisis, until he could start taking over each little oil company by intimidation and strong-arm tactics. Then the platforms would also be disguised as staging areas for hit-and-run attacks inside the United States.
