Livin’ The Brotherhood // A Generation Kill Fanfic
AN: The lovely, lovely chapter three. I hope you readers enjoy. I don’t know if I want to add my taglist onto this. I might but I might not. If anyone wants to be tagged on future chapters, which there will be plenty of coming, just let me know. Enjoy the chapter :)
Chapter 3: The Conquering Heroes
The Humvees bounced and rocked slightly as the tires rolled over the bridge on into the city. Running over rocks and small boulders. Ray popped open a bottle of Ripped Fuel and dumped maybe about six pills into his mouth. Swallowing them almost instantly. Brad looked over at him from watching his sector, sighing heavily.
"Careful with the Ripped Fuel," he warned, going back to watch his sector. Ray huffed, using one hand to steer and the other grab a water bottle unscrewing the cap off with his teeth. Wright sat in the back, watching the man, a bewildered look on his face.
"Fuck man. I'm on thirty hours no sleep. Beat the record I made in high school when I was on the debate team," Ray spit out his words so fast it was hard to even understand him. Kyra scoffed while the scribe just gave him a questioning look.
"Wait, a minute," he started having Ray turn to look at him. "You were on the debate team?" Ray nodded, looking back the road. The Comms were beeping on and off.
"Yeah, I was really really fucking good, but all the other guys on the team thought I was high all of the time," Kyra rolled her eyes in annoyance. She was just tired, sore, and kind of hungry. And Ray and his hyped up antics weren't really helping.
"Shut up Ray," both Kyra and Brad said at the same time. She huffed and looked out the window. "Brad, I'm going to sit on the top of the Humvee next to Walt. I can't watch a sector with the Reporter in the way," before Brad could even respond she was climbing up besides Walt and sitting pretty much behind the turret shield. Ray glanced back at Wright and just looked back at the road. Brad just pressed his lips together into a thin line.
"Shit," Ray cursed as the line of Humvees drove through the town. the tires rolling straight through a mixture of blood from the dead Iraqis and some dead Marines that littered the area mixed with gas and engine fluid from the blown up and shot up trucks all around. "Fucking tranny fluid from the Amtrac." Ray just looked at the bodies and the puddles of the red and black mixed liquids. Trombley looked out his window, almost amazed or in awe at the god awful sights he was seeing. Kyra and Walt just tried not to look. Just trying to keep an eye on the surroundings. Making sure no Hajis were trying to shoot at them.
"Keep your eyes on the road Ray," Brad piped up. Glancing at Trombley, slightly disturbed at the look of almost amusement on his face. "It's nothing Trombley," he just turned to look at the Sergeant. The look of aggravation etched onto his features as he glared slightly. A sigh left the Sergeant's lips as he turned his head back to his weapon.
Soon, after Baptista stopped speaking Portuguese over the Comms, complaining about some of the Marine antics higher ups pull, and watching friendlies light up more Iraqis while the groups drove through, all the vehicles came to a stop. "Hey Sarge! Why we stopped?" Kyra called from the top of the Humvee. Sticking her head down to look at the man in the passenger seat. Wright chuckled seeing the woman practically upside down. He glanced back at her. Captain America was already heard on the Comms, freaking out for the Marines to be at a stop.
"Orders. Raptors cas-evacting a Marine from the RCT." Brad replied, looking back at the female. Who just nodded and pulled herself back up onto the top of the Humvee. All they could now here was Captain America shouting on the Comms. Ray groaned out in annoyance, while the three others within the Humvee showed on their faces that they clearly felt the same.
"I am so sick of Captain America spazzing out on our Comms," Ray spoke, holding the bridge of his nose. And with that, almost immediately, the infamous Captain was back on the Communication line. Yelling about the same shit he had been yelling about every other time he was on the Comms. That the Marines could be ambushed easily in this position. Which everyone already knew, and already knew they could do nothing about it. So everyone was just stuck listening the a god awful platoon leader.
The sound of AK47 fire could be heard. Causing everyone to jump and get at the ready. Though, Ray just huffed. "It's Captain America, he has a motherfucking AK. And think there isn't any returning fire, and there is only one AK," Ray spoke looking around at all the uneasy Marines within the Humvee. Soon, they were back on the move and out of the town. Kyra hopped back down between the Marines in the back and Ray drove throughout the lasting of the town and they were right back on the road.
"Sergeant, I didn't get to shoot," Trombley whined. Kyra looked at him and raised a brow while Ray just scoffed and chuckled sarcasticlly.
"That fucking sucks, Trombely. Your recruiting officer tell you that you get to shoot people?" He asked, wanting to drill into the Marine seated behind his seat.
"Fucking, yeah he did," James huffed as he held his weapon close to him.
"Trombley asked about shooting people. I asked about pussy. The guy told me I'd get to go to Thailand, get all different kind of strange," Kyra just made a slight disgusted face at his talk. I mean, she was a woman, and Ray talking about all different kinds of pussy he would get or wants to get can get a little gross. "What did you ask about, Brad? Oh I know, Brad probably saw that TV commercial- the one with the knight who fucks up the dragon then turns into the Marine Dress blues with a sword. That fucking dress-blue commercial, man, that got so many fucking guys. Now look at us! Trombley hasn't killed anybody. I am a half a world away from good Thai pussy and Colbert is out here rolling around Fuck butt, Iraq. Hunting for dragons in a Mopp suit that smells like four days of piss and balls sweat," Wright was left in total awe by Corporal Person's long rant. Kyra was left giggling in that back, a hand clapped over her lips to silence them. Brad sat looking out his window, a small grin on his face. Oh, but Ray wasn't exactly done yet. "You should have rolled into battle with a sword, Brad. That would've fucking rocked. Say, Kyra, what made you join the Marines?" he asked, glancing behind at the girl with a small smile.
"My ex-boyfriend was a Marine. Reservist to be exact. He told me I should join the Marines. That way I could get good benefits and we could see each other more often. Although, when I told him I wanted to go active duty and go recon, he bitched and moaned. Then went and fucked my best friend when I was in basic training. Fucking reservist," She spoke, chuckling slightly. Brad turned and looked at her.
"You dated a reservist, and then listened to him when telling you to join the Marines?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Kyra's cheeks reddened slightly whilst she nodded. Brad chuckled and turned back around. "Double negative there then Corporal," she just stayed silent.
"We almost got married too, he proposed before I went to Boot Camp. He sent me letters throughout the time, telling me how much he missed me and how excited he was to get married. Then, when graduation came, he never showed up. I thought he might've missed his flight," she started. Everyone silently listening, it was really the first time Kyra ever talked about something having to do with her life before she joined the Marines. Or anything about her in general. She began fiddling with her M16 as she spoke. Unloading the clip then slamming it back in. Anger flooded her body just thinking about the man. "That was until I took my weeks leave, went home, and when I took a cab back to my own apartment that he moved into after he didn't pick up the phone. I walked into my house after seeing my best friend since Kindergarten's car parked in my driveway. I of course thought nothing of it until I walked into my house and didn't see either of them. Until I walked to my bedroom door and opened it. They were in the middle of fucking. Doggy style," she chuckled sadly. Brad looked back at her, along with Ray. Their eyes held remorse. When it came to any other person when they talked about a Dear John or cheating story, they could probably give a rat's ass. But the men cared about the female Marine a little more than any other of the Marines. It was hard for them to explain.
The female continued fiddling with her rifle as she continued speaking. "I remember the look of pure and utter shocks on their faces. I was in my Blues and I remember just standing there. I wasn't sad at first. I wasn't angry. Just shocked. He immediately jumped up, dick out while the bitch covered herself in my blankets. Laying in my bed still. I just looked at him and then back at her. I ripped her fucking extensions right out of her fucking head. Broke her nose to. She ran out of my house, wearing his USMC shirt while he was trying to apologize. I grabbed a bottle of whine and dumped it all over his Dress Blues and then threw his TV out of a window. Kicked his ass out the next day. Five years out the window. I had been with him since the eighth grade. Now I was twenty and had nothing but the Marines. And look! Went to recon school, and now I'm here! With a battalion of my favorite people," everyone had a slight shocked expression on their faces. It was like all that was a joke to her. That it wasn't a huge dent in her life like it would be to most people. That is what kind shocked them the most. Like most men, they assumed women were much more emotional. Especially about relationships and their drama. But nope, not Kyra.
Ray just mouthed 'holy shit' to himself. Brad looked back at her, she had a smile on her face. "Learned to never date a reservist again," was all she said before putting her magazine clip back into her weapon, a loud click was all that was heard in the Humvee. Wright just sat there, looking at her, scribbling into his notebook.
"Damn girl, now I know never mess with you. I need my extensions!" Ray chimed, trying to make her feel better. She glanced up at him and smiled a little wider.
"I don't need your pity men! That shit happened like four, five years ago! Now I'm like four years in the Corps, when I get back I'm getting ranked to Sergeant," she reassured. "I'm moving up in the world besides dating some reservist Private," she laughed slightly. Brad turned to her.
"When did you get told you were being promoted to Sergeant, Corporal?" asked the Sergeant. She grinned and leaned back against Walt's legs.
"LT pulled me aside. He asked if I wanted to be promoted in fucking Iraq. But that would mean I would be put in some other battalion or some dumb shit like that. And I didn't want that. I want to stay in this battalion, in this team until I either die in this shit or after this war ends. What would I do without my boys?" She shrugged.
"Oorah!" called Walt from the turret. Kyra looked up at him and laughed. Brad smiled and turned back to watch the road in front of him. A warm feeling filling his chest which he tried to ignore. But just the thought of the female having the choice to leave the battalion so easily and it would actually help her. Though, she decided to stay to be with her closest friends she had ever had, just made that warm feeling grow.
After a quick pit stop for higher in Command and team leaders to discuss some mapping and that was it. Right back on the Iraqi roads. Sometimes bodies and destroyed military and or Iraqi cars lined the sides of the paved roadways. Their bodies torn up from bullets from all different types of guns. Everyone stayed frosty, knowing that RPG teams could be anywhere at the looks of it.
Time passed listening to Ray's rants about how tired, hungry, horny, whatever he is. His rants can go for a long ass time if someone was to let him talk that much. But most people are smarter than that. Quickly, as the line of vehicles drove down the road, bodies and destroyed vehicles became more common and close together. Though, these ones were different this time.
"Oh, get some! Look at that truck," Trombley exclaimed. Sounding like a rather excited child seeing the destroyed and on fire military truck and Iraqi cars and vans as they racked up the roads. Some holding burning carcasses of whatever or whoever sat within it. "Oh, it's like a Halloween fun house."
Kyra kept an eye on the dead bodies that were scattered over the ground, and soon most of us came to realize that most of the bodies, if not all, were civilians. So many women and children with bullet holes torn straight through them. They didn't even have a chance. No weapons of any kind were to be seen. The female in the Humvee pressed her lips together and sighed slightly. What has this war became.
Her grip on her M16 tightened as her gaze went from her left to her right. And coming into view was the body of dead Iraqi girl. She couldn't have been more than seven. Her eyes widened as the image came closer, clearer to see. Her legs had been blown off. Blood all around her. Kyra just immediately looked away after her breath hitched, whilst everyone else within the Humvee kept looking, and Wright took a picture. His eyes not leaving the girl's lifeless body as the vehicle drove past. A look of confusion, disgust, and utter shock rested on his face. The reporter stared blankly in front of him, his mouth slightly agape. Probably wondering what the absolute fuck did he get himself in now.
"Well, well, well! Who's the sicko in the Humvee now? The psycho ass Jarheads? Or the fucking Liberal media looking for a little exploitation?" Ray just didn't know when to shut his mouth did he?
"She's dead, there isn't anything we can do," Brad sighed. Everyone stayed silent. Well except Brad who was being harsh on him for the fact for taking a photo of the dead girl. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. Maybe even both. Kyra just shook her head and kept her head down. Trying her best to shake out that mental picture. While Ray was ranting, and Wright and Trombley were busy staring out their windows. Brad took a moment to look in the small rear view mirror at the female in the back seat. He sighed slightly as he returned to his sector.
"All Hitman Two Victors, this is Hitman Two. Be advised the report of an enemy gas attack was again in error," LT called on the comms. Kyra grunted as she didn't listen to whatever Brad responded to on the rest of the comms with our Lieutenant. She pulled off her gas mask and pulled down the hood of her Mopp suit. Throwing her head back with a heavy and loud sigh. Pulling off the rest of her gas protectent gear along with the rest of the men within the Humvee.
"This fucking sucks. How many fucking gas attack errors can the Marines fucking make?" Kyra hissed. Leaning backwards as Ray turned to look at her. Holding up his one white glove on his hand. His gas mask resting on top of his head.
"Hello everybody, I'm Michael Jackson," She raised a brow and shook her head, laughing slightly at Ray's attempt with the high voice and as he spit dip all over himself. You know, the usual. Ray turned his focus to the road in front of him. The reporter huffed from his seat as he had a slightly troubling time pulling his gloves off.
"This is fucking miserable," the civilian grumbled, puffing out his cheeks and blowing air out. Kyra shook her head slightly and looked down, placing her Kevlar back on top of her head and clicking on the chin strap. Ray whipped around quickly to face the reporter.
"Yeah, but we get to invade a whole fucking country dude," he responded in a more 'matter of fact' tone. The female in the middle just scoffed. Still not gripping the fact that all these guys wanted to kill, destroy, and just be in a war like this. She pressed her lips together and just kept looking forward.
"At this point, I sometimes I wish Saddam would gas us already, it'll make the all shit with these Mopp suits worth it," huffed Brad as he lifted his gas mask off and pulled off his gloves. Quickly picking up his gun and watching his sector. Kyra chuckled and nodded as she continued pulling off her gloves. The sweat on her hands causing the fabric to stick to her skin almost like a suction cup.
"It would justify the invasion," added Wright, who just sighed. Ray just scoffed and spit some of his dip filled spit out onto his lap once again.
"There's no doubt Saddam's got chemicals. It's just you liberal dick sucks who try to pick everything apart," he hissed, not even needing to turn around to know that Wright lowered and shook his head slightly in defeat.
Brad's attention was quickly grasped from the men and woman's short conversation's within his vehicle when a pair of men were spotted about nine hundred meters out. He quickly lifted up his M4A1 Carbine and looked down his sights. Peering out into the desert. The female in the backseat noticed the man's actions and looked out into the same direction she was. But, as it is with her glasses that go along with her poor eye sight, she couldn't see jack shit.
"Foot mobiles. Two-O'clock," spoke the Sergeant, his view still glued onto the moving, confirmed Iraqis out such a ways away. In which the Corporal in the seat besides him quit his antics and quickly jumped on the Comms to inform the higher ups of their Sergeant's finds. Whilst Rolling Stone began with his questions. Though, he didn't get far since Kyra raised her hand in telling him to stop speaking. He quickly got the idea and clamped his mouth shut, looking at the woman as she squinted to see the two very blurry objects that moved probably a good couple thousand feet away.
"Shut up, Reporter. I'm trying to focus," she spoke as she proceeded to lean over Wright. Honestly, with being the only female surrounded by seventy plus males, it was understandable to grow comfortable and used to just doing whatever with the guys. But, sometimes she forgot where she was, or who someone was, like Evan Wright, who actually isn't a Marine she knew for years. So when the woman just leaned over him, planting a hand on his knee, he leaned back, cheeks reddening and his hands retracting as Kyra leaned to look out the window. Trombley looked over and laughed.
Shortly after, Brad along with Lieutenant Fick called the line of Humvees to a halt. Every Marine scrambling out of their Vehicles, grabbing their weapons to look out into the desert. Waiting for their orders as Sergeant Colbert and Lieutenant Fick observed what was assumed to be an RPG team. Wright looked over to the female Corporal, a questioning look on his face.
"Uh, Corporal Bisset, why aren't they shooting at them yet? Isn't that an RPG team? They could fire any minute!" the woman chuckled, a toothpick between her teeth as she chewed on it. Looking over at him with her arms crossed.
"Sometimes, War Scribe, I forget you are just a civilian," shaking her head she paused for a second. "US Marines have to be given permission to engage unless told other wise. And our screwed up leaders keep switching things up. Mr. Brad Colbert wasn't a hundred percent sure it was an RPG team. If anything those could be civilians just checking us out, as you see a lot of Iraqis are happy to liberated by us. Or they could be an RPG team trying to blow all us into pieces like a goddamn firework. One thing many learn fast is that once you fire a bullet, you can't take it back. A lot of things nowadays can lead to being a war crime, and the United States Military can't have that on their precious conscience."
Wright just stood there, kind of understanding her words, but also not. There was a lot happening in a short time, and for someone non-military, it was a lot. The Reporter just nodded, looking back in front of him. Kyra went and walked up besides the Sergeant and Lieutenant. Squinting her eyes, trying to see what they were looking at, pretty much ignoring their entire conversation. Through the slight blur, she could see some sort of tube and heads bobbing.
"Hey, I know my eye sight is shit, but I'm pretty sure I see an RPG tube and two heads bobbing," she spoke. Looking up at the two taller men. Brad took his eye out of his weapon's sights and looked down at her. Fick looked around Brad to stare at her. The Sergeant looked back down his sights for a second then looked at the Lieutenant.
"I see them too, but I'm not hundred percent sure that there is an RPG tube," Fick nodded and stared out into the desert. Observing the Iraqis in meters and meters away. "But I'm sure they're putting optics on us."
The Officer turned towards the parked Humvees and panned around for a moment. "Pappy, Reyes, get the M-40 and punch out that berm," he called out. And like lightening, the sniper team grabbed their M-40 and ran out. Laying on their stomachs and getting into position.
"Hell yeah!" The female whispered excitedly. One of her best friends was getting some, that was enough to make her happy. Brad glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk curling on the side of his lips. Quickly focusing himself back on the RPG team through his gun's sights.
Not even five minutes after being cleared to engage, the two Iraqis were down. And they were indeed an RPG team. Rudy and Pappy stood up and Kyra jogged over to them whilst everyone was collecting themselves to get back in the Humvees.
"That shit was awesome! I wish my vision wasn't so fucked up so I could get a better view," she cheered, reaching to pat her friend's shoulders. Rudy smiled down at her and chuckled. Pappy was busy taking the rifle back to the Humvee, leaving the Sergeant to scoop up his scope.
"You know my dear Kyra, I would keep a look out for Iceman's eye. He is been staring a lot recently," he stood up and looked down at the female. Who just raised an eyebrow and made a retorting face. "Don't look to fast, but he is doing it right now, and I don't even think he realizes he is doing it."
The Corporal's head slowly turned around, and sure as hell, her eyes met with Sergeant Colbert's. She smiled and waved playfully. His view just darted to the side. And she could've bet everything that she saw his cheek flush with red. But, she thought maybe it was her eyes playing tricks on her. She turned back to her good pal Rudy who just gave a shit eating grin, with an 'I Told You So' look before walking back to his Humvee. Leaving the woman standing there, confused as all hell. Kyra shook her head and let out a heavy sigh, turning around and walking towards her Humvee.
Like usual, the Battalion was right back onto the road. The dusty, dirt back roads of Iraq now. Passing through some small villas while many cheered for the American Marines that drove past them. Holding up crying and screaming babies swaddled up in blankets, yelling broken English. They were grateful for the American's, it was a small moral booster for some Marines, and the rest could give a shit.
Brad's Humvee were the lead of the pack of Humvees and trucks behind them. The Battalion commander had given them the order to take a small dirt road to the left. Which, being the good, hard working Marines that follower orders they were, they took the sketchy road. Seeming quite odd that instead of staying on the main road they were turning off onto a separate dirt road that was surrounded by overgrown grass. But, Encino man was in charge for all of these men and singular woman, he was put in charge for a reason. Right?
"I smell of goddamn Charms," Colbert's voice boomed within the moving box of metal. Glancing behind him at Trombley. Who had turned his face and spit out the small piece of candy out of his mouth and somewhere onto the Iraqi soil somewhere. Wright took the time to scoop out the Charm sitting in his mouth and throw it out of his window. Kyra sat back and chuckled. Leaning against Walt's legs. A slight smirk on her lips.
"Sorry, Sergeant. I had one left," Trombley said, leaning against the window. Pouting. The Sergeant just turned back and watched out his sector. All was quiet for a few seconds before the Marine sitting behind the drivers seat spoke up once more. "You know what sucks?" Kyra and the Reporter was grasped by the question. Turning their heads to peer over at the seemingly bewildered Marine. "All those dead bodies we seen today, and I didn't get to shoot any of them," Wright just made a face of confusion, disgust, and the utter idea of creeped out. The female besides him just pressed her lips together and shook her head slightly. Looking back out to the dirt road in front of her.
"I see foot-mobiles. 12 o'clock, 100 meters," Ray called. Trombley piped up, gripping his fire arm, ready to kill. Per usual. Corporal Bisset leaned herself forward, between the driver and passenger seat just to get a better view. About three Iraqi women stood, one with a basket, filling it with what seemed to be some reeds. "Damn!" The driver exclaimed, popping off his chin strap of his helmet and tossing it to the side. Quickly slipping his gold-rimmed pimp sunglasses onto his face with a huge smirk on his face. "Brad, they're fucking hotties! I didn't know Hajis could be hotties. I thought they were all camel-faced hags!" Kyra let out a laugh, her hand flying to her mouth while Brad chuckled. Her eyes traveled to the women. She was astonished of the bright colors of their traditional clothing, they were in fact beautiful. The entire culture was beautiful to the woman. It was so complex and everything had so much meaning. Compared to what the rest of the men thought about this country and the people along with their culture, it was much different. Even within all the chaos, it was a beautiful country and culture in her eyes.
Hey! As-Salamu Alaykum ladies," Ray called out to the giggling Iraqi ladies, who were using their head scarves to cover their blushing and smiling faces as the scrawny Marine laid onto the horn. The reporter smiled as we drove by. "Damn, homie. Better than when I was in my band!" he exclaimed happily.
"'Cause they haven't heard you play," Sergeant Colbert responded. A smile on his face as his eyes returned to his sector.
Kyra sat, still staring at the vibrant and beautiful colors of their Iraqi women's clothing. "Those clothes are beautiful. It makes me wish sometimes that I wasn't wearing the same sweaty ass mopp suit and utilities everyday," she spoke. Ray chuckled and kept his eyes on the road.
"They are just colorful pajamas, Kyra. They were the same shit everyday. I'm surprised they aren't making those girls cover their faces like the rest of their people," the driver scoffed. Kyra just rolled her eyes and sat back against Walt's legs. Sighing heavily while she crossed her arms.
"Is there a need for you to be so negative all the time, Ray?" She huffed, though with a small smile on her lips. Ray just spit his dip and looked into the rear view mirror, right at the female Marine.
"I wouldn't say negative. I would like to say constructive criticism from a white American that just so happens to be invading and liberating their country. Besides, I'm only stating facts!" Kyra rolled her eyes at the response and just shook her head once more. Focusing back on the dirt road in front her.
It was all going fine, no problems just yet. No Iraqis shooting at the Marines. Smooth sailing for what seemed to be close to an hour. That was until the dirt road in front of us randomly came to a stop. There was no bridge. Just grass.
Sergeant Colbert climbed out of the Humvee mumbling, 'Mother fucker' beneath his breath as he took in the surroundings and the brand new problem. They were just never ending weren't they?
The Marines left within the Sergeant's Humvee were just as upset. Now understanding that with this fuck up, they were put into the back of the damn operation. Once again under the mistake of the officers in charge. Ray was definitely voicing his opinion on the matter, as like any time.
"Once again, thanks to fucking Captain Encino Man, were are now in deeper shit than we already were. I can't believe this fucking shit, man. It is hot as balls, I am swimming in sweat in a Mopp suit that smells like a fucking rotting corpse. Haven't even been able to properly shoot and kill some Haji fucks. And now here we are, sitting in some shit box Humvee, in the middle of East Bum-Fuck, at a dead end road," he rambled on and on.
You couldn't really tell, but Corporal Bisset was getting more and more agitated by the minute. Sure, everything that was pouring out of Ray's mouth was true. And she would definitely agree with him in the moment. But as Ray rambled, her focus was on something else. Her eyes stayed focused on her platoon commander and team leader who both stood in the front of the Humvee. Looking back every so often to stare at the Captain who was supposed to be fixing his mistake.
Kyra overheard the talk on Comms and the conversation between Brad and Fick.
"Just figuring out we're lost," the Lieutenant started, sighing heavily. Brad looked down at his superior, pursing his lips and huffing.
"I could've told him that a half an hour ago," he responded, agitation laced heavily in his voice. The two looked behind them, looking at the Captain and the Gunny staring down at a map laid down on the hood of their vehicle. Brad scoffed as the two looked back at each other. That is when Encino Man hopped onto his radio.
"We're gonna backtrack. Hitman Three will be on point. Colbert's team took a wring turn at the bridge."
Hearing those words come from their commander, just itched Kyra the wrong way. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her eyebrows narrowed. How could a Commander be so childish? Blaming his mistakes on the ones below him. Especially to Sergeant Colbert. Who is the best team leader and one of the best damn Marine within the Company and everyone knew it. If it was actually possible, steam would be shooting out of the female's ears.
Ray noticed the woman's sudden shift in emotions. He knew that Kyra was usually the bubbly and happy one of the group. And seeing her as mad as she looked, the face of someone that wanted to commit a murder and fucking know she could get away with it.
"Uh, hey Smiles. You good back there?" he asked, trying his best not to anger the female Marine even more. He was trying to choose life. Kyra just huffed heavily and looked up at him.
"I'll be good when fucking Encino Man gets his dick out from between his legs, grows a fucking pair, and become a man like he is supposed be. Leading all of us. And admit his own mistakes and correct them and stop being such a dumb fucking leader," she hissed. Ray's eyes widened and turned around fully in the seat to get a better look at the ball of anger that sat in the middle seat.
At the corner of her eye, Kyra noticed the reporter scribbling down into his little notebook. Her head snapped to look at him. Wright's head quickly bounced upwards, looking back at Kyra. Their eyes meeting. And once he saw the look of pure anger in her eyes, he knew he fucked up.
"Keep scribbling in the stupid fucking notebook, Wright, and I'll just accidentally let off a round into your leg. Sending you right home and fucking up your stupid little report," she hissed. In which Wright shut the notebook closed quickly, and taking a large gulp. Nodding at her words.
Kyra just huffed and turned away. Climbing over Trombley to get out of the Humvee. Once she was out, the three looked around at each other. Very shocked and confused at what had just happened. "What the hell just happened?" Ray muttered to Trombley.
The female Marine walked towards Brad and stood besides him. The height difference was clear between the two. She chewed at the skin attached to her bottom lip. Not looking up at him and just looking out at the tall grass instead of the road she pictured of them driving on. "You don't have to put up with this shit, Brad," she said. Taking a moment to spit before looking back at him. "This is all bullshit," she added. Brad looked down at the fireball of a woman. A small smile coming to his lips as he shook his head. Turning around to look at the convoy of vehicles.
"Corporal, you'll know one day that after a while, you just tend to ignore it. The entire military is bullshit. This war is bullshit. We are all bullshit," he started. Looking back down at her with that same stupid, shit eating grin. "This entire world is bullshit, Kyra. And that's why us Marines are here. To try to fix all the bullshit with even more bullshit," he finished. Earning a dry laugh from the smaller woman. She looked up at him with a look of light in her eyes.
"You know Brad, after all this shit, I'm going to marry you," was all she said. Smiling up at him before patting his arm and turning around to walk back to their Humvee. Of course, Brad being the person he was, assumed she was joking. But he also hoped she wasn't. Yet Kyra wasn't joking.
She meant what she said. She knew everything within life was bullshit. But she could see that Brad wasn't. He was real. And she was attached to it.
