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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1665895-Brains-over-Brawn
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1665895
A tale of how brains and planning overcome brawn and numbers.
         I had just been allowed off-base for the first time since we went into boot camp. Some of my high school friends and one of my army buddies was going out to the mall with me. My army buddy, we call him Bard,  keeps calling it “Easy Camp” due to it being the shortest off all the services boot camps. Compared to the others, it could indeed be considered easy.
         Compared to the others being the key part of that phrase.
         Like I said, first time we have been allowed off-base since boot camp. Seven and a half weeks of indoctrination and initial training on the values of the Air Force among other things. Went through a little over two months of training for my job.
         The mall wasn't huge, but it was the local hang out for me and my friends. Had been for over ten years.  It was wonderfully designed, shaped like a plus with the food court smack dab in the middle. What it may lack in cool stores, it makes up with awesome food and plenty of room to find a table.
         We arrived at our table and the expected happened. The guys slapped my back and made jokes about me finally putting on muscle, the girls kept squeezing said muscles and giggling. I made jokes and wisecracks wherever I could slip a word in. After the first five minutes or so we all grabbed some food and sat down.
         We talked about everything I had missed while I had been gone. Boyfriends, girlfriends and about how Sue had brought her girlfriend over when she come out of the closet to her parents. They freaked of course, and threw her out of the house. Nina, her girlfriend, brought her to her house. Long story short, Nina's parents adored Sue and had her move in.
         We talked about how Kim and John had finally hooked up. We had seen that one coming for years. They would have been happier sooner if they had gotten their heads out of their asses and hooked up back in junior high.
         Sam and Paul had moved into an apartment together. They weren't gay, just had shitty jobs and didn't feel like living with their parents anymore. At least, than had been the initial reason. They now owned their own house and ran a computer repair business out of it. Being nerds was finally paying off.
         The rest of the crew had similar tales of life in general. Stuff they bought or broke. New friends that came and went. They hesitated for a second when they mentioned new friends, and before I could ask someone rolled walked up.
         I couldn't help but stare.
         He stood there wearing a pair of shades. He had a small walking stick in what was left of his right hand. Looked like the ring and pinky finger had either been ripped, burned or blown off.  Similar markings covered his neck and the front section of his face. From the way he walked up, I could tell he had one fake leg. A beautiful border collie stood on his right side, wearing a harness with a hand grip attacked to the back of it. He held the handle like it was part of his hand.
         The part that was really shocking to me was his shirt. It had the eagle, globe and anchor insignia on it. I could see dozens of signatures covering it too. From the ones I could see, they were all military folk who had signed with name and rank.          
         I know from the seeing eye dog that he couldn't see me, so he must have felt me staring at him. He turned and looked right at me. I expected a lot of different reactions from him, but he surprised me. He laughed. It one of the friendliest laughs I had ever heard.
         I stuck my hand out without thinking and introduced myself. His hand found mine on his first try and he returned the favor.
         “My names Darrel. Call me Dare. This ugly mutt beside me is Angel.” The collie gave a small yip when she heard her name.
         A chair was quickly found for him and one of the girls went off to grab him and Angel something to eat. I stayed quiet and listen while they all talked. I didn't want to accidentally start talking about something that might offend Darrel.
         Evidently offending him was going to be tough though. His nickname was Crispy.
         He made a point of telling me what had happened as we sat there. How he and his squad had been clearing a farm house in Afghanistan. Some of the guys had found a cache of weapons near it, and they just wanted to go and talk to the people inside. Everyone who had been inside had been brought out, and all should have been well. Until Darrel and three of the others opened the door of a small building.  He was the first one in, had his hand on the door so he could hold it open for the others when he saw a broken string. His eyes flicked along it as it lead to a small can the size of a gallon of paint. Without a thought for himself he shouted bomb and slammed the door shut.
         He had spent seven months recovering from a blast that should have killed him.
         He spent three years getting used to being blind.
         And he still supported not only the troops, but people who wanted to join.
         We were discussing that when I heard someone shout something about queers.
         Now, I don't think it's a good idea right now for gays to enter the military openly. We don't have any plans for how we would integrate them yet. We going to have all gay flights in basic training? That wouldn't really prevent them from having sex, which is part of why they have the guys and girls split. Would we just have them join the straight guys or girls? That would be asking for trouble. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
         All that said, gay people don't bother me at all. I never picked on someone for something like that. It didn't really make any kind of sense to me.
         I had been about to brush it off until I saw Sue and Nina flinch. Sam and Paul paled a bit and sat up straighter. A quick glance around the table showed me that everyone was scared.
         Except for Darrel. He just looked pissed. His hand left the handle on Angel's harness and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. Angel was all but growling as she looked back at whoever had shouted.
         I turned and looked back, curious as to who it was that could scare my friends so much.
         It was Ron and his old crew. They had been a group of bullies in High School. Loud, but generally harmless. John and I used to make sure the group was left more or less alone. When I looked over at him he had his head bowed. His shoulders were drooping.
         I guess they had found a way to neutralize him.
         I hesitated then, not out of fear but because of something I had noticed.
         Ron was wearing a sleeveless shirt. Oh his left and right shoulders was a familiar symbol. The eagle, globe, and anchor. Now I knew what was pissing Darrel off.
         My friends started telling me to sit down and be quiet when I stood up. I ignored them. Angel whined at me, and I hesitated.
         “Kick his ass, Tim.” Darrel wasn't looking at me. Even if he could see, I don't think he would have been seeing any of us. “Show him that being a marine doesn't mean you're a bad-ass.”
         I smiled a bit at that. Why? Because there is one thing that is universal about marines that I have found. They take care of their own. They have their brothers backs in a fight, help them pack if they need to move and are there for them when life gets tough.
         They take care of their own. Not just when they need a hand up either. They take care of their own when they need knocked upside the head too. When they need shut up or stopped. You do wrong, and one of your marine brothers hears about it, you will get what's coming to you.
         Darrel couldn't do it himself this time. Not blind and with only one leg. The rest of the crew were to afraid of Ron.
         When it comes to our group, I had never been the smart one. The smooth one. I was a jock. A country boy who just wanted to go hunting and have fun. Youngest of four boys, I learned when I was young how to take care of myself. The Air Force just gave me some pointers.
         Ron sneered at me and started to open his mouth, but I didn't give him a chance to start spewing whatever hate riddles filth he had in mind.
         “I am going to ruin you, Ronnie. I am going to break you here in front of your friends and mine. I am home again. I won't let you bother them anymore.”
         He swung halfway through my last word. It wasn't what I was honestly expecting, but I had been ready for it just in case. Even then, I barely got out of the way. He swung several more times before I managed to catch my balance. I could hear his friends cheering him on. Darrel was shouting and demanding to know what was going on.
         “Whats the matter, sheep fucker? Thought you wanted a fight!”
         He smiled a wide ugly smile. His eyes were wide with excitement. He started to step forward so he could start punching at me again.
         Naturally that's when I raised my right hand and maced him.
         Like I said, I wasn't expecting him to swing. I faked being off balance so that he wouldn't be paying a lot of attention to my hands. He was screaming and grabbing at his face as he tried to back away from me. All he ended up doing was tripping over a chair.
         Someone behind me shouted something, so I spun and shoved my left hand forward. It struck one of his cohorts right in the stomach. There was a buzzing sound that could briefly be heard before he fell to the ground.
         Something that some of you may not know. Stun guns freaking hurt. I gave him a second jolt when he started to get up before turning back to the rest of his friends.
         I wish I my camera was in my hand. I would have loved to have a picture of the looks on their faces. There was only two of the three left who looked like they may try something. The last guy spun and took off running.
         Jackass One looked over at Jackass two, and both seemed to reach an agreement. One pulled out some brass knuckles while the other pulled out a butterfly knife.
         I countered by pulling out my grandfather's trusty old M9. I ratcheted a round into the chamber and pointed it at a point halfway between them. At that point training took over.
         In the span of three minutes I had them both tied up with their own shoe strings just like I was taught in my Security Forces training. I tied Ron and Buzz, as I know planned on calling him, so I could complete the set. I kept all four of them there until the police arrived.
         I ended up getting into a little bit of trouble later back at the squadron, just a bit of extra duty. Nina and Sue were in tears when I saw them latter. They had been putting up with a lot worse than that lately.
         Darrel, who I now call Captain, had evidently put in a word for me. Explained how much hell the girls had been forced to deal with. From a few hints my sergeant dropped, Darrel's old Commander had evidently gotten involved too.
         Even after all that, I have nothing against marines. I deal with Soldiers, Seaman, Airman and Marines on a daily bases at work. There are bad ones in every service.  There is always at least one shithead somewhere out there. They may be the ones you hear about, but they are the vocal minority.
         Oh, and for the record? Had he gotten a hold on me Ron would have ripped me apart. I am not some kung fu master. I am just smart enough to plan ahead and figure out ways to beat guys like Ron. Guys who think being faster and stronger makes them better.
         I think I have made my point on that subject.
© Copyright 2010 Jack Nyder (dorn284 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1665895-Brains-over-Brawn