Looking down into the empty street and there he sees something. At first, it is a blur, his mind is not yet fully awake from his stupor. He then drops an empty bottle of whiskey he had been clenching and uses his hands to block the streets lights reflecting on the window.
He places his eyes beneath his hands and looks further in detail what he is looking at. Adjusting his sight, he finally sees what it is. Its is a helicopter, a helicopter had landed in the empty street just on the other side of his room.
Confused, he looks at his watch, it reads, O-Three-hundred hours. He looks back at the chopper and watches with intrigue. As he watches he sees two men exit. Both wearing pilot uniforms but they do not remove their helmets.
Then, as they dismount and land foot upon the ground an older man in tan khakis and a black polo appears from the shade of the night. Sergeant Calcus keeps watching, he looks around to see if anyone else is walking outside.
But there is no one, not even a car. Sergeant Calcus becomes more curious and thinks to himself, "This may be something I should not see, but, hell with it. What's the worst that could happen? He looks back at the chopper and the three gentleman. The older man in black polo addresses the two pilots with a handshake and they start to converse among each other.
Then, as the conversation continues it starts to heat up. The men start to gesture wildly with what appears to be anger. The older gentleman points to them with command to return back to their chopper. But they refuse, suddenly the man in the black polo pulls out a pistol and proficiently fires two rounds into each of the pilots, one in the head and one in the chest.
They drop instantly, Sergeant Calcus quickly ducks behind his wall. But his quick motion catches the eye of the killer. He looks up at Sergeant Calcus's window and sees his room is the only room with lights on.
Sergeant Calcus with his back to the wall, "What the hell did I just see?"
Sergeant Calcus gets down in the prone and starts to crawl to the exit of his room. He reaches it and as he does he hears voices and the knocking of boots against the barracks floor. He quickly darts up and shuts off his light and gets back into bed.
He then notices the voices cease, he looks over at his door and he can sees shadows forming just beneath the gap of the door. Then, at the last second he decides to grab the empty bottle of whiskey and hold it in his hand as he acts asleep. Hoping they will think he has been drunk stumbling around.
He hears the handle of his door begin to jiggle, then the sound of a key entering the lock. The dead bolt releases. Sergeant Calcus's heart starts to race a bit. He hears a flood of a small group enter his room quietly, almost two quiet.
Then without warning the lights come on but Sergeant Calcus does not move. He can feel the presence of people walking about his room. Then everything goes silent, not a motion of movement after two minutes and then the lights shut off again.
Sergeant Calcus does not move, remains still for another fifteen minutes. He feels safe enough to remove himself from his bed, so he quietly gets up, he notices his blinds have been drawn shut. He carefully walks over to his light switch and flicks it on.
Suddenly he is knocked to the ground and his hands are immediately zip tied and mouth gagged. He's then pulled to his feet as he tries to fight free. But those who are gripping him are far superior in strength. Even for a man the size of Sergeant Calcus.
He is then pushed to a corner in his room and placed on his knees. A few voices start to speak, Sergeant Calcus tries to slowly look back but as he does he sees the tip of a rifle barrel and jolts his head back to the wall.
The voices cease and he feels a pair of hands grab his arms and is lifted to his feet. Sergeant Calcus is then blind folded before he is turned around and forced out his room. He can clearly hear now that there are six people among him.
All with heavy and demanding steps. A small speck of light breaches his blindfold, he does his best to focus through the tiny hole. He can somewhat make out where he is, he knows he is still in the barracks by the pattern of turns they are taking. They exit out the rear of the building.
Sergeant Calcus is only wearing his underwear and it is thirty-two degrees out. Several minutes pass by as he walks barefoot. He starts to shiver a bit as they travel deeper into the base. At least twenty minutes go by of walking through woods.
After that, everyone stops, a large metal door breaks the silence as it is opened. Who ever is holding Sergeant Calcus, they guide him up a few steps and into a cold building with concrete floors. His feet are numb and his whole body is shivering.
Another door is opened and he is suddenly tossed into what he assumes is an interrogation room, much like the ones hes been in overseas. He hears the door behind him shut and become locked. Sergeant Calcus remains calm as he tries to asses the situation.
Some time goes by and the door is opened. Sergeant Calcus has his back against the wall to the right of the door. Earlier he had guided himself through the room to gain as much information on the shape and size of the room.
It is small, with four walls, about an eight by ten room with a table in the middle. As the door opens he hears only single pair of boots clack against the floor. He stands up slowly and as he does a voice calls out, "Don't try anything stupid boy, you'll only end up dead sooner than you wish."
Sergeant Calcus keeps to himself as the voice he hears is no voice of a weak man. But a voice of man who knows his way around death. The man with the voice grabs Sergeant Calcus by the left arm and places him in a chair at the table.
The man with the voice then steps to the other side of the table. Stepping over to the opposite end, there is a loud thud that hits the table. Sergeant Calcus turns his head to try and distinguish what he is hearing.
There is then the sound of papers being flipped through. The man then begins to talk, "Alright...Sergeant Calcus, do you know why you are here?"
Sergeant Calcus moves his face toward the voice and responds, "No sir."
A small lull of silence holds to the air as the shuffling of papers and the clicking of briefcase locks snap open. The man speaks again, "Well son, you're here because I believe you may have seen what you should not have seen. Looking at the manifest of unit 5-20, you should be clear on the other side of the state right now, why are you not?"
Sergeant Calcus takes in a breath adjusts himself in the cold chair, "Sir, I was given orders at the last minute to stay behind. Seeing that I am eligible for an early ETS from my service. My Platoon leader saw no reason for me to go on to the training exercise if my contract is technically over at the end of this next week. Two weeks before they get back. " Sergeant Calcus clears his throat.
The man replies, "Well then, looks like we may have to do a little test to make sure you are fit for separation. You may feel a pinch on the side of your head, but no worries, the pain will subside quickly and you'll be new again."
Sergeant Calcus becomes worried and moves himself away from the table as much as possible without moving the chair, "What do you mean a pinch sir, what is exactly going on?"
The man shuffling about, "Don't talk back, this is a matter of national security and you may have just caused a ripple in it that could directly ruin us in the long run."
Suddenly Sergeant Calcus is hit with a pinch in the side of his head. He blacks out but only momentarily. He comes to and his vision is blurry, as if he is under water and he can tell the blind fold had been removed. He looks around and there on the other side is a man standing, but he cannot make out who it is.
It is a blur of black and a shade of tan wrapped around the silhouette of a person. Sergeant Calcus stands but, is promptly suppressed back to his seat by the hands of two others who stand on either side of him.
He tries to ask what is going on but his voice is lethargic and slurred. The blur of tan and black, steps up and starts to talk. The vague and blurred words of, "We are taking your memory." is heard.
Suddenly Sergeant Calcus becomes extremely weak and passes out. He then wakes up some time later in a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his head. He looks around sluggishly and sees a nurse standing beside the bed.
"Hey...he...hey...what am I doing here, where am I?"
The nurse hears and turns around smiling. "You're finally awake!"
"Finally awake?" He asks as he looks on with confusion, "How long have I been out?"
The nurse walks to the far end of the bed and pulls up his chart, "Three days and some change."
Sergeant looks with concern, "Three days! What the hell?! What happened?"
The nurse places the chart back, "We are not sure, you were found by an older gentleman, a contractor I believe just outside your barracks passed out in the grass. We examined you and found some slight head trauma, but nothing to be concerned about, as of yet I would say."
Sergeant Calcus lifts his head, "As of yet, head trauma? Okay, this can't be right let me go."
He tries to struggle to his feet but his body feels exhausted, he can't really move. The nurse quickly runs by his side to ease Sergeant Calcus. She succeeds and Sergeant Calcus rests his body upon the bed. The nurse then hands him some medications to take. He takes them and asks when he will be able to leave.
The nurse replies that he will be able to leave tomorrow night after some more observations. "We are unsure of your symptoms and the cause of your situation, we did find and unhealthy amount of alcohol in your system, but so far, everything checks out."
The nurse then leaves the room. Sergeant Calcus is left in an enigma of thought. The next night, he is released. He then returns to his barracks room and finds it as he remembers it, he gathers up his civilian clothes and some paper work.
He then exits his room and heads out the building. He makes way to the first day to process out of services. After a week he is finally processed out, he exits the admin building and stares out into the congested parking lot and sees something.
He sees an older gentleman in tan khakis and a black polo. The gentle looks to him as well, they lock eyes momentarily and the gentleman nods and steps into an all black vehicle next to him and drives off.
Sergeant Calcus looks on bewildered as the gentleman drives off. He then makes way to his vehicle and gets in, starts his car and drives off with a feeling of relief and freedom. But will he ever know the truth or has he been spun by the country he swore to defend?
Was what happened to Sergeant for the safety of his country or to hide the corruption his goverment, what do you think?
Let there be no one to stop you, https://park.micahbiffle.com/2018/11/dismal-be-headless.html
Popular posts from this blog
I have been writting poetry on medium, does anyone still wish me to write short stories on here?
A Wanderers Inn I have been traveling for thirty days. My horses are weak and I thirst dearly for water. My belly aches as hunger constricts my gut. I am fearful of death in such an unsuitable way. I have always seen myself dying in daring act of life. Be it in war or the saving of a child. Or maybe, even in the defeat of a dragon as I get one last blow with my blade before it strikes me down and it falls to its death beside me. Feeling its last breath of heat roll over my body as our eyes see only our fading souls. I have always thought my death would be glorious. Yet here I am, traveling alone with no more rations, nor water. My horses no longer walk with fervor but lackadaisical steps. And so I pray to find shelter before the cold takes us. Before the empty plains of barren trees and darkness finds us. I wish not to be detritus before my days. Decaying slowly to the maggots as my body lays helpless upon the earth. Becoming a gruesome vision of what lies inside. B
Not fair? You know what's not fair, that eight year old boy who who was diagnosed with cancer on his eighth birthday. The mom that has to watch her child slowly die as she prays he will survive; only to watch him take his last breath. After all those sleepless nights of pain staking chemo. All those days of watching their child go from a bundle of energy, to a pale boy of sickness. -- Life's not fair? You know what's no fair, going to work to find out you are being fired because someone holds a minority that you don't. Fired, because your skin complexion is not the right color and they need more of the other. Being fired, because the company needs more of a certain set of sex organs to help out "equality." -- Your life's not fair? You know what's not fair, those 200,000+ men who went to help eradicate the evils of Hitler. Only to die less than hundred feet onto the shore. All those sons taken from their families, all those father and mo