Blue Plague: War (Blue Plague Book 6) (23 page)

“Danny, I broke my own nose,” Mike clarified, and everyone looked at him, waiting for more. Letting out a sigh, Mike lowered the bloody, ice-filled rag. “I passed out, hitting my face on the table.”

“Let’s go,” Ted said, grabbing Carl’s arm. “Anything Bruce would say that would make Mike pass out would make you and I drop dead,” he explained, yanking Carl up the stairs.

As the exodus ended, only Mike and Nancy were in the room with Bruce and the girls. Releasing Bruce from her hug, Angela looked up at him. “Bruce, we don’t want you to do that because to be honest, we don’t think you could do it as well as leading from the front. We just want you to be careful. Don’t think we are stupid, and don’t think it isn’t dangerous. We just don’t like it when you take risks you don’t have to,” she explained.

Nancy reached over, taking the bloody ice rag from Mike. Placing it on the back of her head, Nancy stated, “I don’t really know what emotion I’m feeling right now.”

“I do,” Angela said, burying her face in Bruce’s chest.

“Me too,” Stephanie said joining her in Bruce’s chest.

“Well,” Bruce said, leaning down to kiss the top of each one’s head, “I hope you two never doubt how much I love you again.”

Reaching over, Mike took the ice rag from Nancy. “I can tell you if they ever do, I’m getting my belt and wearing their asses out,” he said, putting the rag on his face.

Pulling Bruce’s face down, Stephanie kissed him. “Go check your gear, baby,” she said with a gentle smile.

Before he could stand up, Angela reached over, pulling his face further down to kiss him. “Check it twice, and then go and check the team,” she said.

In a blissful state, Bruce was tempted to tell the team to go without him. “I will, and you two be careful while I’m gone,” he said, letting them go.

As Bruce left, they both sat down as Nancy leaned over the table. “Please don’t ever pressure him like that again,” she practically begged.

“Nancy,” Mike groaned, lowering the rag. “They never asked Bruce to stay behind; he offered.”

Nancy’s eyes got wide as Angela and Stephanie grinned. “He just offered,” Angela said and smiled.

“We could never actually let him do it though,” Stephanie sighed. “That would be going against what Debbie asked him. He can’t win this war from that control room,” she said, pointing next door. “Bruce needs to be close to the action, or he can’t lead. He has to reassure himself if worse comes to worst, he can charge in and try to fix the situation just like he did with the kids.”

Agreeing with that, Angela nodded. “I don’t think he would slaughter people like he did coming to the kids. I’ve talked to one survivor, and he said Bruce was screaming they hurt his kids, shooting and stabbing anything that looked like the enemy.”

“Gene doesn’t know how lucky he was that Bruce didn’t wipe them off the face of the Earth. Lord knows I came close to launching everything we had hearing the kids were hurt,” Stephanie admitted.

Mike stood. “Again, he was doing what Debbie told him to do,” he said, walking to the control room. “Bruce knew we couldn’t fight and win this war without them. Without those troops, in the end, I really think our grandkids would still be fighting the same war and losing. Having them with us, I believe we can wipe this country clean inside of a decade.”

“No,” Stephanie said, making Mike stop and turn around.

Angela shook her head. “Debbie said when Bruce started, the major campaign would be over in five years.” Hearing that, Mike felt better and nodded.

“I used to freak out hearing you two say that stuff, but now, it reassures me,” Mike admitted then turned around and walked into the control room.

Flopping back in her seat, Nancy reached up, rubbing her head. “It certainly is falling into place,” Nancy groaned.

“It seemed to freak you out,” Angela snorted and giggled.

Dropping her hands in her lap, Nancy just looked over at her and Stephanie. “I knew he loved you, but hearing Bruce, the Bruce I’ve known for close to a decade, say he would stay out of the fight for you two, did shock me,” Nancy admitted. “That you didn’t force it makes me proud of you.”

“Debbie warned us but didn’t tell us we couldn’t,” Stephanie said. “Like you, we know he loves us. We just wanted him to start being more cautious. I can say neither of us expected him to make that revelation.”

Angela clapped her hands. “But I’m so glad he did,” she said with excitement. “On his own, he was willing to prove it to us, and we proved it to him.”

Seeing the happiness on the two, Nancy couldn’t help but smile. “That means this is the year the war starts,” she reminded them.

“And in five years, it will be over,” Stephanie sighed.

The excitement left Angela. “Yes, and some of our loved ones will fall,” she moaned.

Nancy raised her hand. “Debbie wrote ‘fall,’ not ‘die,’” she pointed out.

Angela looked at Stephanie, and both smiled. “Our kids were hurt,” Stephanie pointed out.

Nancy jumped up. “Let’s check everything on the plan and make sure they are the only ones that are hurt.”

***

As the girls ran into the control room, Bruce was walking to the shop with Ted and Carl following. “Have you two packed your gear?” Bruce asked over his shoulder.

“Last night,” Ted answered, still shaken by what he had witnessed downstairs.

Stopping, Bruce turned. “Get your shit, and we are checking it again, then we are going to check the team.”

“I’ll get it,” Ted said, running off.

Bruce watched him leave. “Too much unnerves that boy,” Bruce mumbled.

Carl chuckled. “Bruce, your family isn’t exactly the American family, and neither is Mike’s.”

Turning around, Bruce headed to the shop. “Would you really want us to be?”

“Hell no because we would all be dead,” Carl said, following him.

“It’s not my fault my daughters scare him,” Bruce said, opening the door.

As Bruce walked inside, Carl followed. “I want to meet the motherfucker those girls don’t scare the shit out of,” Carl mumbled, but Bruce heard.

Just smiling, Bruce pulled out his vest and gear, spreading it out on a table. Digging in his pocket, Bruce pulled out his cellphone and went through his address book. Bruce found Gene’s number and tapped it.

“Hello,” Gene answered.

“Hey, Gene, Bruce here. Where are you at?”

“In my room, getting my shit,” Gene replied.

“I’m in the shop. Bring it in here, and let’s check it and go over the team.”

There was a pause. “Okay, but I thought you would want to spend some time with your family,” Gene said.

“Angela and Stephanie told me to do this,” Bruce said.

“Be there in a minute,” Gene said, hanging up.

Putting his phone down, Bruce looked at the backpacks and gear bags on the wall. He had taken them out of his room since they had to put kids’ clothes in the closet as well as their own. Picking up the light assault pack, Bruce emptied it. It held a lot of ammo, two meals, and basic gear with a camelback.

“How much can those chutes handle?” Carl asked.

“Mine can handle three hundred and fifty pounds. I don’t know what yours can handle,” Bruce said, picking up his SCAR, breaking it apart.

Carl let out a groan. “Great, now I’m going to panic I’m over my weight limit,” Carl said as the door opened. Ted walked in, struggling to carry both of their gear. He dropped it on the table next to Bruce’s, and the door closed behind him. Turning around, they saw Gene walk in carrying his.

“Just me, ladies,” Gene grinned.

Seeing his SCAR was clean and ready, Bruce put it back together. “Ladies,” he scoffed. “I’m not the one who jumped into the jungle leaving my weapon on the aircraft.”

Throwing his gear on the table, Gene snapped, “I told you, Bruce. I had to push Benny out of the aircraft, and he pulled me.”

“What the hell did you take the damn thing off for?” Bruce asked, grinning, picking up his NVG and thermals to check them.

Getting pissed, Gene snatched up his M-4 and disassembled it. “I was the officer in charge and had to do the jump check. That damn drop bag caught on everything.”

Putting new batteries in his thermal monocular, Bruce mounted it on the SCAR. “I would’ve left Benny’s ass on the plane and brought my weapon,” he chided.

Gene threw down the pieces of his rifle. “How many times are you going to rub that in my face?”

Raising his hands, Bruce asked, “How many times did you jump my ass in the Philippines?”

“Bruce, we had a job to do, and that job wasn’t to start a war with every guerrilla unit in the country,” Gene shot back, making Ted and Carl back away from the table.

Dropping his hands, Bruce started packing his backpack. “Who went and got you another weapon?”

Closing his eyes, Gene sighed. “Bruce, you stole it out of a police station. You know the general yelled at me for hours over that alone.”

“Not my fault the guerrilla units used AKs. The police had a whole rack of M-16s. I only took one,” Bruce said, closing his pack.

Opening his eyes, Gene started putting his weapon back together. “I did say thank you.”

“I only heard a bellow,” Bruce said, grabbing his P-90 and stripping it down.

With his weapon assembled, Gene slid it in his drop bag. “Bruce, you snuck off in the middle of the night and took a dump on the province police chief’s desk. Then, you disable five Land Rovers. If that weren’t enough, you leave a card telling them it’s from the 75
th
Rangers and hope they enjoy stuck in the pile of shit you left on the desk. How the hell was I supposed to react?”

Afraid of getting hit, Ted shoved his hand in his mouth and bit down so he wouldn’t laugh, and Carl bit his bottom lip. Bruce inspected his submachine gun. “The guys thought it was awesome.”

“Bruce, I had the Secretary of State call me on my SAT phone in the middle of the jungle while we were on mission and remove my ass. Hell, I still don’t know the meaning of half of the words he screamed at me,” Gene shouted.

Calmly, Bruce put the P-90 together. “We knew that police chief was on the rebel’s payroll.”

“God damn it, Bruce. We weren’t supposed to be there, and you take a dump and—” Gene stuttered, he was so mad. “That chief sent a picture of it to the State Department, and it looked like a cow took a shit on his desk. How one person could shit that much still mystifies me, but you leave a post card stuck in the pile of shit. What part of ‘hit and fade away, leaving no trace’ did you not understand in the briefing?”

Feeling his legs get weak, Carl squatted and sat on the floor, trying not to laugh out loud. Bruce reached over, checking the magazines for the P-90. “I felt they needed to know this time, it was us that kicked their ass again. Three times in hitting the same group pushes even my sense of duty.”

“Troop, your job was to do, not make policy! Only to follow orders!” Gene shouted.

Packing his submachine gun in a small drop bag, Bruce tied it closed. “We didn’t have to go back,” he pointed out.

Seeing how calm Bruce was, Gene took a breath to control his temper. “Bruce, you made a mistake. Accept it. I had to reprimand you.”

“Oh, I have no problem with that,” Bruce said, finally looking up at Gene with a straight face. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

Caught off-guard, Gene blinked rapidly, “Huh, what?”

“I know you took shit for that, Gene, and I’m sorry,” Bruce said. “But I couldn’t let them punish you for leaving your weapon on the drop plane.” Gene’s eyes got wide as he stumbled back. “That’s why I always ‘rubbed it in your face.’ I know you looked down on me after that, but I couldn’t let the brass come after you. I just wanted you to figure that out and not hold it against me.”

Feeling lightheaded, Gene sat on the table, looking away from Bruce. “Bruce you didn’t have to do that,” he finally said.

“Gene, Lt. Gilmore was kicked out of the Rangers for losing his side arm, remember?” Bruce said as he started examining his vest. “I just didn’t want you to think I did that stupid shit just to get you in trouble and think I wasn’t a good troop. It was the only thing I could think of to get the attention off of you.”

Looking over his shoulder, Gene felt like that pile of shit Bruce had left. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I wanted you to see it and forgive me,” Bruce replied as he loaded the magazine pouches on his vest.

“For fuck’s sake, Bruce, the major himself put you through thirty hours of PT for that stunt and restricted you to base for two weeks!”

“Huh,” Bruce grunted. “Yeah, it pissed the major off when the post commander made him stop, and I started break dancing, begging for more.”

Gene tried not to laugh. “Bruce, you pulled your dick out, waving it at them, yelling, ‘Real Rangers can go forever.’” Gene smiled.

Ted hit the ground beside Carl as both busted out laughing. “Pussies couldn’t take a joke,” Bruce mumbled.

Jumping off the table, Gene looked over at Bruce. “I never once though you weren’t the best soldier I ever worked with then or now,” Gene said. “If that was the reason you did that I wish you wouldn’t have, Bruce, the division commander had recommended you for the Special Forces but retracted it after that.”

Pulling out his pistol, Bruce shrugged his shoulders, “I had already told Debbie I wasn’t going to reenlist at the end of the year.”

Ted and Carl slowly stood, using the table for support. “Damn, Bruce,” Carl said, wiping his eyes. “I would give anything to have been with you then.”

Bruce looked away as the memories flooded through his mind. “It was some good times,” Bruce admitted and looked at Gene. After decades, Bruce was glad Gene understood now. Stacking his gear together, he asked, “Gene, what happened to that nurse Debbie fixed you up with? When we left, you two seemed to be getting pretty close.”

A dark cloud passed over Gene’s face, and he looked down continuing to check his gear. The others looked at him, then Ted and Carl started going through their gear. “She died in a car wreck two years later,” Gene mumbled. “We were engaged.”

Hearing that, pieces started falling into place in Bruce’s mind. “Sorry,” he said. “So you forgive me, right?”

Looking up with a grin, Gene said, “Shit, I forgave you then. It’s not every day a second lieutenant gets chewed out by the Secretary of State. You know, they still talked about that at the Pentagon before the fall.”