Driving Major Temple and Assassin
Hired #3 and Spy #4
Kenneth Guthrie
Smashwords Edition
Lunatic Ink Publishing
Copyright 2012 Lunatic Ink Publishing (Founded by Kenneth Guthrie)
Frank Miller waited in the beat up brown-green army issue jeep. The piece of crap was idling funny, a mispronounced purr with the occasional hairball cough. It only extenuated Frank’s annoyance.
Where is this fucker?
Major Mark Temple, ferocious controller of other’s time, was not a punctual man.
Sitting here outside the white washed Iraqi palace on the edge of the safe zone that housed the military court was not safe – in fact it was downright suicidal with the terrorists being so fond of sniping this dump. The major was supposed to meet him here…
“Open up damn it.”
Frank jumped – heck, leapt – in the little jeep’s cab. Mark Temple had arrived, finally.
“Hello, sir.”
“Get moving. We are behind time.”
Frank stared. The man had a face that could scare a new recruit white. His perfectly pressed greenish uniform, bells, whistles and all, was enough to make him a terrorist’s wet dream. Frank wondered how long they would survive out there with him dressed like this; not long considering how fucked up things were these days.
“What are you staring at soldier?”
The major’s eyes flashed angrily.
“Um, nothing, sir.”
Major Temple kept on staring. Frank started to feel a distinctly uncomfortable feeling running up his spine.
“Where to, sir?” he finally asked to break the silence.
“Didn’t you get the schedule?”
Frank hadn’t; the major’s tone told him he should. Frank tried to find something to say before the situation exploded.
“82nd base camp.”
Shit across town.
Baghdad had never looked so dangerous as Frank put the car into gear. He hoped whatever business the major had wouldn’t take too long.
*****
“Talk, fuck face.”
Mark Temple brutally punched the chef in the rib cage again.
Frank stood shaking in the freezing cold meat locker watching - he wasn’t shaking because it was cold.
“Where’s the goddamn shit?”
Another ham-like fist smashed the marine’s nose. A pop signaled a break.
“Sir…”
“Shut up, rookie.”
That was the tenth refusal.
The major grabbed the man’s jaw.
“Still not talking?”
Blood flowing from his nose, the man gave the major the bird – the most foolish thing to do in this situation in Frank’s opinion.
The major readjusted the fool’s testicles with his foot.
“Give me that knife, rookie.”
A big meat cleaver sitting upright in a block of ham beckoned.
“Sir, that is not a good idea.”
“Did I ask you opinion?”
“Ah… no, sir.”
Frank yanked the knife out of the hunk of meat.
“Here you are, sir.”
He wasn’t arguing with this wild man. He might be next.
The major grabbed the marine’s middle finger. The chef started to whimper as the major lined it up.
“I’ll ask you one more time before I cut it off. Where is the shit?”
It was a no-brainer. The marine was ready to squeal.
“It’s being sold out of a fuck house for our boys in Al-Saydiya.”
“Good boy.”
The knife hissed as it came down.
Frank screamed.
“Don’t forget to cut your fingernails properly. Hygiene is important.”
One inch more and the chef would have lost his finger. Frank breathed again.
“Come on, rookie. Time to go whoring.”
*****
Al-Saydiya was hell on earth. Frank had been here only once: One time to count bodies in a bomb shattered house had nearly killed him.
The major hung out the window, completely unconcerned about getting shot.
“Pull up over there.”
He pointed at the most normal looking house on the block.
“There, sir?”
Temple gave him a look.
“Would you shoot up your own suck shop?”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
Frank pulled the jeep over to the curve on the dirty debris littered street. The area was deserted. No one went outside in this area at night.
“Let’s load up.”
Frank groaned. He was coming in as well. He could just imagine himself kicking in the door to find half a dozen armed Americans and double that number of locals eager to deliver them some red hot shells. This was not part of his job description.
“I’m not going in, sir.”
“Are you disobeying an order?”
“No, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”
The major rolled his eyes.
“Those fuckers are selling booze and porn to the local community. Are you telling me you don’t want to sort that shit out?”