Latakia

by J. F. Smith

  Mope said, alarmed, “What are you…”

  “The one on the passenger side is the one you really want alive,” interrupted Matt and he jumped up. Just as the headlights started to illuminate their position and the wrecked van that they were hidden behind, Matt paused one more second so they’d get a good look. Mope started to try and grab him, but Matt dashed across the highway, fully illuminated by the approaching headlights. He jumped behind the concrete pipe lying along the far side, then ran a little farther down and hid behind it as best he could. He hoped and prayed that Mope could handle however many were in the van.

  The van pulled up just short of where the other crashed van was and stopped. Immediately, the driver of the van and the leader with the white-streaked beard jumped out, shouting at each other in Arabic. They both ignored the crashed van and ran across the road to where they had seen Matt disappear behind the irrigation pipes.

  Matt waited with his eyes closed, praying for the dull thump sound of Mope’s rifle with the suppressor on it, but he didn’t hear it. Matt really started to panic when he heard the two men immediately on the other side of the pipe talking to each other.

  He looked up just in time to see the terrible grin of the man with the beard looking down at him triumphantly. Just as Matt was about to turn away from the face he had learned to hate and fear so much, the face changed suddenly. The smile faded and the leader’s eyes rolled back in his head. He collapsed on the side of the pipe and fell down to the ground off of it.

  Matt heard that voice, the deep bass of gentle thunder in the distance that had become the most comforting sound in the world to him, “It’s done, Matt.”

  Matt stood up and saw Mope looking right at him, the goggles and mask obscuring his face. At Mope’s feet was the body of the driver, a knife buried to the hilt in the side of his neck and a pool of blood spreading out from it. In a heap next to the pipe was the body of the leader. Mope put his boot on the head of the driver and leaned over to pull the knife out of his neck, first twisting it and digging it in to make very sure he was dead. He wiped the blood off the knife on the driver’s didashah before putting it back in its sheath on his thigh.

  Mope asked, “Are there going to be any more of these fucking vans?”

  Matt couldn’t help but smile at Mope’s question. He shook his head no and climbed back over the pipe. He said through his smile, “Were you just waiting to make me sweat over here?”

  He heard Mope’s voice from behind the mask, “Maybe I should have! But, I had to sneak up on their van and make sure there were no others in there. Once I knew that was clear, I could deal with these two more easily.”

  Mope walked over to the body of the leader and kicked at him gently with his boot.

  Matt asked, “Is he dead?”

  Mope held up the handgun Matt now noticed in his hand. “Nah. Randall gave us these dart guns to use. These things don’t shoot worth a shit, though. Needed to be up close to make sure I got him. That bastard there is going to wake up in about ten hours to the worst nightmare he’ll ever imagine.”

  Mope walked up to Matt, put his hand on Matt’s head and playfully messed his hair. He exhaled and said, “We got one, Matt. You got one. You have no idea how much you’ve done. No idea.”

  Mope took the dead body of the driver, dragged it from the middle of the road and put it in the crashed van. He wouldn’t let Matt help because he didn’t want Matt anywhere near that van and the grisly scene inside, the scene that Matt had been in the middle of. He did let Matt help him lift the unconscious body of the leader and put it into the good van. Mope put zip ties on the hands and feet of their prize, just in case he woke up unexpectedly.

  Mope decided they needed to get farther out of town, find somewhere off the main road, and wait until another extraction could be safely made. They loaded up in the van and Mope drove another five miles out of town, then turned off the highway, driving along the edge of a large, orderly grove of olive trees. On the far side of the field, they stopped the van. Mope and Matt got out and walked a few feet away to where a thick and gnarled olive tree trunk was lying. They sat down on the ground and leaned against it in the cool Syrian night air to wait. There was a light, delicate, almost fruity smell in the air that Matt assumed was the olive trees.

  “We’re really far from the sea. How are we going to get back?” asked Matt. His eyes started to get used to the faint moonlight that night and could see Mope barely illuminated next to him.

  “Already working on it,” said Mope. “It’ll probably be yet another thing you won’t ever be able to talk about, though. The ‘when’ depends on air traffic over Latakia dying down some.”

  “How will they know where we are? I don’t even know where we are.”

  “They know exactly where we are already. I’m GPS’ed out the ass and sending the coordinates back to the Iwo Jima constantly, as well as still transmitting on the AARDVAARC. The guys have been listening to everything that’s happened.”

  Matt sat silently for a moment. So much had happened so fast tonight. Try as he might to not see the images in his mind, they inserted themselves into his consciousness. He saw a human head three feet away from him explode. Felt the blood and bits of brain and skull hitting him in the face. He himself had held a gun within a few inches of another human being’s head and pulled the trigger. He could smell the awful stench of spilled blood. Lots of it. He saw the face of the leader leering over the concrete pipe at him, with evil, angry triumph in his eyes.

  It overwhelmed Matt and he felt himself choking up, and his body started to shake as the tears began to flow. He started crying with the fear and pain and brutality of everything he had just experienced. And once it started, he couldn’t stop it, so he let it out and blubbered like a baby.

  Mope said, “Jesus, Petey, just butt out! Just let me know when the Nosferatu is on its way. Until then, I’m cutting the audio feed to you guys.”

  Mope opened up a tightly velcroed pocket under his left arm, pulled out the AARDVAARC box and flipped a switch.

  He reached around Matt, putting his arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. He moved the goggles back up onto the brim of his helmet and pulled the black mask back down.

  Rather than try to get Matt to stop, though, he said gently, “Let it out, Matt. Let it out. You’ve been through hell tonight, so let it go.” He squeezed Matt to him tightly and let him cry.

  Matt finally asked through his heaving and crying, “What did Petey say?”

  “You really don’t want…”

  “What, Mope?”

  Mope sighed and said, “Petey said, ‘Tell him to stop all that damn crying! Tell that bitch to stop menstruating himself into an early menopause! He still has plenty of time to take it up the ass and have a bunch of little faggot babies.’”

  Matt sobbed a few more times, which then turned into a chuckle. He couldn’t help himself. Petey took offensiveness to an Olympic gold-medal level.

  Matt’s chuckle then turned into a laugh and Mope started laughing, too.

  Matt said, “That motherfucker!” and laughed some more.

  “It’s killing him that he couldn’t be out here with you, you know,” said Mope. “There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. He would have literally ripped these guys apart with his bare hands if he could have been here.”

  Mope paused and gave Matt another squeeze with his arm. Matt very much liked being with Mope like this. Despite the terrible things that had happened, Mope made him feel safe, and like everything was ok. He liked Mope holding onto him like this.

  “But I got to be the lucky one, tonight,” added Mope. “I know it’s hard for you to see it, Matt, but what you did tonight was amazing… I think you’re amazing.”

  Matt blushed, grateful it was invisible in the feeble moonlight.

  “That boyfriend of yours is really lucky to have you. One lucky son of a bitch.”

  Matt looked over at Mope, giving his usual automatic response. “No, I’m lucky to
have Brian.”

  “I guarantee you, Brian is the goddamn lucky one.”

  Mope added, “And I feel safer just knowing I’ve got a bad-ass motherfucker like you here next to me.”

  Matt laughed wistfully again. He felt something towards Mope he had never felt towards anyone before. It was respect, and admiration, and comfort, and trust, and faith, and… and… and what, exactly, he wondered.

  Mope said, “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through tonight, Matt. All this that’s happened… it’s not like some bullshit Michael Bay movie. Seeing and feeling a building get hit by a rocket propelled grenade, seeing two guys get their heads blown off by hollow points, a knife in a guy’s throat. The reality is very different from the Hollywood crap. None of us would have gone through with tonight if we thought this was how it was going to go.”

  Matt thought sadly, truer words were never spoken. Somehow Mope always knew exactly what to say.

  Matt looked up at the night sky and felt humbled by what he suddenly realized was above him. For Matt, it was a rare sight, and it took his mind off of everything that had happened. Matt said to Mope, “Look up.”

  Mope looked at Matt, then looked up in the sky and saw what Matt did, and it took his breath away.

  There, stretched above them, from one end of the Syrian night sky to the other, the dazzling beauty and complexity of the Milky Way galaxy hung silently above them. Far enough away that the city lights of Latakia couldn’t drown out the magnificent view, Matt and Mope sat and stared at it, feeling dwarfed and awed by it.

  Matt heard Mope whisper the word “amazing”. He looked down from the sky in time to see Mope looking at him.

  Matt looked back up at the stars twinkling in the sky.

  “Mope, those guys that you went out with were stupid assholes,” Matt whispered. “You deserve a lot better than them.”

  For some reason, after Matt had made the statement, he felt like he had crossed some unidentified line that he probably shouldn’t have, and he felt bad for crossing it.

  He heard Mope breathing in the dark next to him. Mope said, almost daring Matt, “Oh, really? So, are you saying to me that, if you didn’t have that lucky bastard Brian waiting on you back home in Richmond, you’d go out with me?”

  “Are you kidding me? You’ve saved my life, like, two or three times now! I’ve lost fucking count! I’d do anything for you!” said Matt.

  As soon as he said it, Matt understood why he felt like he had crossed a line. It had nothing to do with Mope, but with Brian. As soon as he said it, he knew it was true. The thought of going out with Mope made him feel like he was walking on air. Which in turn made him wonder if what he had with Brian was really all that great, after all. He had crossed a line he had not crossed since he met Brian, and now the guilt of it started pulling at him. Especially after he had made a promise to himself to really appreciate Brian and remember how lucky he was to have him. Matt had sworn as he lay dying of thirst in an empty room to be better to Brian. And this was the sad way he was keeping that promise.

  But Matt couldn’t help it. Even as the guilt burned him like acid, he dreamt of having Mope turn to him and kiss him right then. He imagined leaning back against Mope, being held in his arms as they sat and looked at the stars overhead. He felt awful for wanting it.

  “Yeah. Good. That’s good. Thanks, Matt,” said Mope.

  To Matt’s extreme disappointment, Mope took his arm from around him and turned his AARDVAARC mic back on.

  “C’mon guys! Are you going to make us wait all night? We could have walked back to the Iwo by now!”

  Matt was only halfway listening. For a moment, it felt like there was something between him and Mope. It seemed like maybe Mope felt the same way towards Matt that Matt felt towards him. But he guessed not. Maybe it had just been wishful thinking. Matt was left with the guilt that if Mope had kissed him right then, he probably would have kissed him back.

  Mope continued, “No, we’re clear here. The ground isn’t any good for a landing, though. Too rocky and too many scrubby trees. You can get down to about ten feet and hold it.” There was another pause, then Mope said, “Ok, got it.”

  Mope turned to Matt and said, “They’re on the way. This is going to be pretty good because they’re in a Nosferatu.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” asked Matt.

  “It better not. This thing’s really classified. I’ve seen one, but this’ll be my first time actually using one on a mission. It’s a new helo. It scatters radar like a banshee, so the Syrians won’t even know it’s here, even if they’re looking for it. And you’ll barely be able to see or hear it until it’s right on top of us,” said Mope, excitedly.

  “It’s not going to land,” he continued. “Baya will drop down, and we’ll get you lifted up into the helo first. I’ve got goggles, but you don’t, so keep your eyes closed with all the sand blowing around. Then we’ll get our little party favor and lift him up next. Then we’ll be on our way. Once we’re back over water, we’re pretty much home free!”

  Mope stood up and looked around, selecting the clearest area nearby to use. Matt helped him get their captive out of the van, and Mope carried him over to the area he had chosen and unceremoniously dumped his body on the ground.

  Matt kept looking towards town to see if he could see the helicopter approaching, but couldn’t see or hear anything.

  Mope said, “Yeah, we’re ready. You see me? Alright, let’s get out of here.”

  Mope looked around, too, and clearly couldn’t see the helicopter, either.

  He laughed and said, “Fuck you guys! Shit, that thing is invisible!”

  They both finally heard a slight whine, like nothing more than a hair dryer in the distance, and immediately felt the blast of air as the Nosferatu lowered towards them. Despite wanting to look up at it, Matt had to close his eyes due to the sand and dirt flying around.

  A second later, Matt heard something drop to the ground right next to him, followed by two hands on his shoulders. He heard Baya say, “Good to see you, Matt!”

  Matt felt Baya slip a pair of goggles over his eyes so he could see. When he turned, all he saw was a SEAL in battle dress with goggles and mask, but he could tell it was Baya from his build. He looked up and could only see the outline of the helicopter over him where it blocked the light of the stars. Other than that, it just appeared to be a void in the starry sky. Baya and Mope got Matt safely attached to the rigging to get him up in the helo and he immediately felt himself lifting up in the air. When he was even with the opening in the side of the helo, a hand reached out and grabbed him and pulled him inside. Matt tripped getting his foot out of the rigging and fell into Petey, knocking him down onto one of the seats. Matt’s face shoved right into Petey’s groin area.

  Petey said, “God damn! You greedy little cocksucker! Can’t even wait one fucking minute before you’re pushing your face in my crotch!”

  Matt stood up, embarrassed, and Petey grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and pointed at a seat. He kicked Matt playfully in the ass with his boot and said, “That’s your seat, Cornhole. You’ll have to wait until we get back to the ship for me to teabag you.”

  Matt sat down and said with a stupid grin on his face, “It’s good to see you, too, Petey!”

  Petey knelt down in front of Matt to make sure he was buckled in securely. Matt couldn’t help but grin wildly the whole time and Petey said through the black mask, “Wipe that dumb-ass grin off your face, asshole!” He slapped Matt against the chest and handed him a helmet to put on.

  In the meantime, Desantos had gotten the lead kidnapper up in the helicopter as well. Petey went to help him get the body in a seat and buckled in.

  Finally, they helped get Mope and Baya back up into the Nosferatu, and the instant they were in, the helicopter canted and flew off at a dizzying pace. The SEALs sat down and buckled in like it was standing still, completely at ease with the wild motions of the helicopter.

  Matt sh
ould have been interested in looking out the window and watching everything. Or at least looking to make sure they would get back to the Iwo Jima safely. Instead, he found himself staring at Mope. Despite the fact that the SEALs all still had their goggles and masks on, Matt could now easily identify them just by size and mannerisms.

  He had mixed emotions about what he felt towards Mope. The thought of Mope touching him or kissing him was wonderful, even if it now felt like a silly and impossible daydream. He’d be going home very soon and Mope would go his own way and that would be that. Matt hoped he would be able to remain friends with all of them, but especially Mope. But he also imagined the crazy parallel world where Mope felt the same towards him and there was something more between them.

  Matt glanced at his kidnapper in the seat across from him, hands and feet bound the way Matt’s had been. The sight instantly reminded Matt that these thoughts towards Mope were already a betrayal of Brian. Did the sacred promise he made to himself mean so little that he was willing to imagine tossing it aside even a few days later? Matt didn’t like that thought. Mope had shown him what faith and trust were about. He had made him understand that honor was a real thing. He couldn’t have these thoughts about Mope without violating his commitment to Brian. And he wanted to be a better person than that. Matt felt caught between something in his heart towards Mope, and the honor that that same person had made so important to him.

  Matt consoled himself by thinking that soon he’d be home. His life would get back to normal. He would have Brian waiting on him, and it would be good to hold him and kiss him and feel him by his side. But he’d be looking at normal through different eyes now.

  There finally came a point where the SEAL team relaxed a little and they all moved their goggles up onto their helmets and pulled their black face masks down. Matt realized the Nosferatu had just crossed from being over land to being over the Mediterranean Sea.

  Petey slapped his hand on Matt’s knee excitedly a few times and shouted at him, a crazy and exuberant look on his face, “Fuck! You are a hardcore badass, motherfucker!! You shot one of those fuckers WITH HIS OWN GUN!! That is… Christ, that is THE SHIT!!! In his FACE, motherfucker!! With his own FUCKING gun!! They better bring a sack lunch if they’re gonna mix it up with this here butthole bandit!”