“Damn, man. Put on a shirt or something. It’s like looking directly at the sun!”
With his hat pulled down over his eyes, he mumbled, “It’s too damn hot. Too hot to even think.”
“Well, tomorrow we’re going to Alexander Springs.”
Before I could finish the statement, he bolted upright in his chair and shouted, “Really?” Jumping to his feet, he said, “Hot damn! A day of swimming sounds nice. Back at the armory, we would swim in the lake. But someone had to stand guard for gators and the water smelled like shit and was as warm as piss.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. But the spring will be nice and cool. Clean, clear water. That will be great.”
Then his expression changed. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I know someone is going to have to stay behind to provide security.”
I nodded. “Three someone’s.”
Wallner rubbed the stubble on his chin. “We’ll draw straws. Three of us get to go; three have to stay behind.”
“That’s up to you guys.”
He nodded. “We’ll sort it out.” Then looked at me and said, “Man, I’m looking forward to this.”
“If, you get to go.”
He gave me a mischievous smile, “Yeah, if I get to go.”
“I don’t want to know,” I said with wave of my hand as I walked off.
I found Mike in a lawn chair in the front yard of the house. He was lying there, butt naked, sunning himself. The tall grass came up to the bottom of the chair and it looked as though he were floating on it. I stopped short when I saw him and said, “Would you put some damn clothes on?”
He was wearing sunglasses and I couldn’t see his eyes. But his head rocked towards me and he replied, “Why? I’m getting a tan.”
“There’s some parts that shouldn’t ever see the sun.”
He adjusted the head of the chair to lie flat and rolled over, putting his pale ass in the air. “There. You happy now?”
I half laughed to myself and walked over and fell into the grass beside him. Resting back on my arms I looked over and asked, “You alright?”
I expected some smart-ass reply. But he was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’m fucking bored, Morgan. I joined the Army to visit far-away exotic lands, meet interesting people and kill them in a most terrifying manner. This was fun for a while. But, I’m getting bored to death. I need something to do and I don’t mean standing at the damn bunker either. There ain’t shit going to happen there.”
“You seen the old man today?”
“This morning.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re about to do?”
He sat up quickly, knocking the sunglasses askew. “No. What is it? Do I get to take my tank?”
“I don’t know about your tank. But he’s lining up a strike against the Russians at the auto auction. Said he’s got a B1 bomber strike planned. You and Ted are supposed to go over there and put a laser or something on the target.”
He jumped to his feet and shouted, “Hot damn!”
I turned my head, “Put something on, would you?”
Mike looked down and smiled. Putting his hands behind his head, he started to gyrate his hips, shouting, “Helicopter, helicopter, helicopter!”
Dalton’s voice boomed from the road, “You’re doing it wrong! You have to have something to swing to pull that off.”
Mike looked at him and smiled, “You wanna go for a ride?”
Dalton walked across the yard and snorted, “That little thing couldn’t even get my interest up.”
Mike snatched the sunglasses from his face and pointed at Dalton with them, “You’d fall in love. Hey! We got a mission!”
“What sort of mission?”
As we were talking, Sarge pulled up in his Hummer. He sat in the driver’s seat, shaking his head. Mike started walking towards the truck and the old man shouted, “You better go put some damned clothes on before you even think about talking to me! Who the hell walks around naked? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You know the difference between naked and nekkid?” I asked. No one answered, so I continued. “You’re naked when you ain’t got any clothes on. You’re nekkid when you ain’t got any clothes on and you’re up to something!”
“He better get some clothes on his nekkid ass!” Sarge shouted.
Mike turned and sprinted for the house. He came back out with boots on his feet and a pair of shorts. He was pulling a t-shirt on as he walked across the yard. “So, what’s this mission?”
The old man climbed out of the truck and jabbed a finger at Mike again, “I better never catch you running around in your birthday suit again. If I do, I’ll grab you by the stem and take you on a tour of the neighborhood, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah. What’s the mission? I’m fucking dying here. I’m so bored I can’t even jackoff anymore.” Sarge dropped his face into his hand and shook his head.
“What’s the word, Top?” Dalton asked.
I leaned in close to Dalton and said, “It’s Colonel. But you got to say it with a thick southern accent.”
Sarge slowly lifted his face from his hand and looked at me. Straight faced and through gritted teeth, he said, “Morgan, you do not want to start any shit with me right now.” Then, ignoring Mike, he looked at Dalton. “We’re going to set up on the commies at their base of operation. Mark them with a laser so a B1 can drop some serious hurt on their asses.”
“You have the laser?”
Sarge cocked his head to the side and asked, “And just how the hell would we do it if we didn’t? Stop being a dumbass, Dalton.”
“Are we taking the big gun?” Mike asked.
“Hell no, shithead. You have to sneak in there and paint the target. You think they won’t see that big bastard come rolling up? Get your head out of your ass. You’ll take the war wagon. Get in
