“Fawk it’s hot out here!” said the young soldier.

“Ya think?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “The mundanity—or is it monotony? Anyway the boringness of it all is what kills you. Not the bullets.”

The young soldier looked at me funny.

“Okay well also the bullets,” I said.

We both chuckled a little.

“Think about it this way,” I said to the young soldier as we shared a small bottle of water. “Imagine the kids you went to high school with. All of them. The cool ones, the geeks, your old girlfriends, her friends, everyone. Think about what they are all doing right now. And ask yourself, would you trade places?”

“Fuck no,” he said confidently.

“Exactly,” I confirmed. “Sure, it’s hot as hell and it can get boring sometimes. But what we’re doing is important. And it definitely beats selling auto parts or paper weights or whatever your high school buddies are doing now.”

The kid nodded and I took the opportunity to ramble on. After all, it’s not as though either of us was going anywhere anytime soon so I was confident that I had an attentive audience.

“See that group of women down there,” I asked, “the ones with the baskets on their heads, walking slowly. See them?”

He nodded again.

“Their whole day is about one thing and one thing only… and do you know what that one thing is?”

He shrugged.

“Water.”

The young solider seemed unimpressed so I elaborated.

“There’s no water here,” I waved my arm across the vast expanse of land we were presently watching over—in secrecy of course. “There’s no water anywhere. In fact, it’s miles and miles from here. But these women walk every single day to get to that water. And for that reason, it becomes a very valuable resource. Back home, we don’t value it, we barely respect it. Turn on the tap and out it comes, just like that. But here, it’s different.”

He nodded so I continued, “now, those assholes in The Fear Division know this and they use it as leverage.”

And that’s where I lost him. The young soldier looked at me like he didn’t know what ‘leverage’ meant.

Jeez Louise where do they find these kids?

“You know,” I continued, “leverage. The Fear Division rebels hang out at the wells and prevent the women from getting water unless they give them… you know…. favors… And sometimes the rebels just attack them anyway.”

“Oh,” said the young soldier as he looked sadly at the ground. “I thought The Fear Division just attacked us, like Americans and our allies and stuff.”

“No way,” I said as I watched the group of women and girls approach the water well we were guarding from afar. I readjusted the grip on my assault rifle and looked around to make sure none of those assholes was approaching.

Just then I saw one in the distance.

“Damn,” the young soldier said as he shook his head, “these guys really are the scum of the—”

“Shhhh,” I shushed him as I got down low on my chest and brought the scope of my rifle to my eye. Slowly, a member of The Fear Division came into my view and I responded to the voice in my ear piece, “yes, I’ve got him… roger that… no… yes… yes Sir.”

In my ear piece was my old commanding officer, “The Captain”. His name was CONFIDENTIAL but we just called him The Captain. We called him that not because of his rank but because he was always tinkering with boats, tractors, even small planes… he couldn’t help it. He loved to fix things. Well, correction, he loved to try to fix things.

The Captain wasn’t an Elite Force Protector, like me, but he was a former Navy SEAL, which is pretty damn respectable, and I’d served under him on countless missions over the years. The heads of the EFP Task Force (a nameless, faceless group that assembled and trained Elite Force Protectors—even I’d never met them) often turned to The Captain for recommendations on new recruits, as well, because he knew what it took to rise above the call of duty. You either had it, or you didn’t, and The Captain could read people better than anyone I’d ever seen. So he had become sort of like an unofficial EFP Recruiter over the years.

But the real reason I liked him was that his operations were always quick, dirty, and I’m pretty sure off grid. Unlike the other Elite Force Protectors, I liked pushing the rules… just a bit. Just to see what I can get away with. That’s why The Captain and I got along so well. He was definitely known for playing around with the rules but the fact was, his rebel kill count was so high, and his skill level was so impressive, that I genuinely believed the US Military let him run things how he saw fit. He was a cowboy, that’s for sure, but a brilliant and methodical one.

* * *

Over the years, The Captain had taught me a lot about close range combat as well as how to be patient and calm in tense situations. Equally important, he taught me how to be swift and severe when I needed to be.

“There’s a saying,” said The Captain years ago when he was helping me hone my rifle skills, “slow is smooth, smooth is fast.”

“Because if I move too fast, it’s reckless and possibly fatal, right, Sir?” I had asked.

“Exactly,” The Captain nodded. “One would be wise to use this tactic on the ladies, too.”

He winked and slapped me on my back.

While I never really worked out if that was indeed a good approach to use with girls, I always referred back to those wise words when staring down the scope of my rifle. The Captain was an incredible mentor and I was always honored to be chosen for any mission he was commanding.

* * *

So here I was again on one of his wild “off grid” operations, listening to him speak in my ear piece, giving me the go ahead to take down this rebel.

“Roger that,” I said calmly. “Over and out.”

The young soldier beside me seemed to shift uneasily, unsure of what The Captain and I were saying and clearly wishing he was back in whatever forgettable small town he came from.

Not everyone is cut out for this life, it’s okay, I get that.

(That was actually one of the reasons I was chosen for this quick two-week mission, to give my impression to The Captain on this young guy and see if he might be EFP material. He wasn’t.)

“Don’t worry, kid,” I said as I watched the rebel gain ground on the women, he couldn’t have been more than twenty feet away. I could see he was carrying an assault riffle, too. Shit, I thought. Just when we were having a lovely day here in picturesque hot-as-fuck North Africa. “This will all be over soon.”

I could feel the young soldier watching the women, as well, he was worried for them. Just then, the women quickened their pace and one of them, a little girl, started to run.

Dammit…

Argh, why did you have to do that?

Naturally, the rebel picked up his pace, too. There was no way he was alone, either. That’s how they worked…

These guys always approached the women pretending to help, claiming they were from a local tribe and offering to lead the girls away from The Fear Division, they might even say they know of a different, safer route, but in truth these little shits would be luring the women right into the mouth of evil. Directly into a trap set by The Fear Division. And then, God only knows what fate would await these poor women and children.

The young soldier spoke again, “are you going to do something, Ty? Seriously, man, he’s about to grab that little girl. You gotta do something.”

Again, I shushed him.

My focus was completely on what I saw in the scope of my rifle. The rebel was fifteen, maybe ten feet from the little girl and her panic was palpable. The other women were trying to circle around her without sparking too much chaos.

I could see the rebel talking to them now and suddenly the movements of the women became erratic and I lost my focus. Their panic escalated to intense levels. I could feel it even from where we sat, hundreds of feet away.

“Dammit,” I said quietly as I surveyed back and forth, looking for the rebel in my scope. “Get back into my view, you little shit.”

The young soldier beside me shifted uneasily and again I ignored him. The rebel hadn’t noticed us, yet. But all that could change in an instant and the last thing I wanted to deal with on that hot freaking day was ten Fear Division rebels instead of one.

We had the advantage of not being seen and I didn’t want that to change. Especially with this newbie here. I liked the kid, don’t get me wrong, but not everyone is cut out for this life. It’s a hellacious blend of total and utter monotony mixed with high-pressure rapid-fire chaos. You have to be ready all the time because at any moment, it all can change. I thought back to The Captain’s words…

Slow is smooth, smooth is fast….

I let out a big breath and focused again. I loved this part of my job. The calm before the storm. I felt most like myself in these moments.

“Ty, I’m serious, man,” the young soldier spoke again, his nervousness wafting over to me like stale food on a hot day. “Are you going to take this guy out or not?”

I let out another calm and controlled exhale as the rebel came into focus in my scope, “Yes…. I… am…” I pulled the trigger and the women screamed.