[Swordfish941]

Another passage:


He sat down next to her and took a bite out of a biscuit. The coffee was done and he poured himself a mug. He sat back down and took a sip. The caffeine revived his senses and he could now think more clearly.

“Have you heard about Somalia? Another conflict is going on.” He said to Katie, who was nibbling on a biscuit.

“Greg, there has been a conflict in Somalia for twenty eight years now.”

“Yes, but this one is different. The government is fighting against Al-Shabaab, not some local warlord’s militia. These boys mean business, Kate. They’ve taken over most of southern Somalia, including the old capital.”

“Al-Shabaab?”

“It’s an Islamic insurgency group that has ties to Al-Queda, or what’s left of Al-Queda. You know the government would pay us to fight for them.”

“Greg, you’re a textbook workaholic. Whenever we’re done with one job, you somehow manage to get another and we have to pack our things up just when we have finished unpacking. Please, just give us two months off before you find another job for us.”

“Okay. I didn’t know that you felt that way. Do you want to know what I feel?”

“Go ahead. Shoot.”

“When you have had experienced war, you start to love the feeling you get from it. I was soldier back in the bush. Here back in civilization, I’m just like everyone else. When I was the LRA’s captive, something inside me changed. I don’t know what, but I’ve never felt like myself ever since. I have my personality and my love of literature and music and life, but I don’t feel the same.”

“I heard that war does that to some people.”

“Well, you only know a little bit of war. I’ve trained you how to use a gun and knife, but compared to my training for Recces, yours was just a walk in the park. Mine was a trip to hell and back.”

“You’re exaggerating a bit, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. I was the runt of the litter of the ones that succeeded training. They were six feet or taller and weighted around two hundred pounds. I was only five foot seven and weighted only a hundred and fifty-five pounds.”

“How the hell did you even pass?” Katie asked, getting more interested in his story.

“My staff sergeant thought that I made up my lack of physically with my other skills. He said that I was a brilliant strategist, one of the best he had ever seen. He also said I was an expert marksman. During weapons training, all of the rounds I fired hit the middle of the target in a small cluster.”