Chapter 64: Blissful Weekend and yet another past life...

"You are welcome, my love," Lorelei murmured into Alex's ear.

His face split into a self-conscious smile. Her words broke his aimless stare at the ceiling of the darkened suite. Alex lay on his back in the bed, with Taylor curled up against him over his left arm and Lorelei laying against him on the right. It was enough body heat that they had kicked off all but one thin bed sheet. Lorelei had one hand laid fondly over Alex's groin, where he was finally not quite so stiff anymore.

"I might have to thank you a lot more for this tomorrow," he said. He kept his voice low. Taylor was sound asleep, having been driven to grateful exhaustion by the other two.

"You and Taylor have both thanked me more than enough already," Lorelei smiled. "I expect I'll actually sleep tonight. As for tomorrow, I would rather look forward to it as a new day. Who knows what pleasures it might bring?"

"Can't imagine it being better than being in bed between the two of you."

"Master, I foresee a time when your bed will have a two-lover minimum."

He laughed a little. "I loved this. I'd love to do it again. But I'm looking forward to focusing on just you again, too."

She kissed his neck. "Sleep, master. We will see what tomorrow holds."

************

"Y'all can't carry us both, fool. I'm gutshot an' bleedin' out. Take Cracker Carlisle an' go."

"I'm not gonna just leave you!" Darren protested. He tugged at the corporal's sleeve, only to have it slip away because of the blood. Will fell back against the thin tree trunk and jungle grass with a grunt.

"Darren," Will choked, "Charlie ain't waitin' on a long goodbye. We didn't come back for Carlisle for nothin'. I ain't lettin' 'em get me. Now drop the sixty an' your ammo and fuckin' go, man. I've got this."

"Fuckin' bigoted asshole doesn't deserve this," Darren grumbled, but he quickly obeyed. He threw his last belt of ammunition for the M-60 off of his shoulders. Then the machine gunner grabbed the half- conscious soldier lying in the bush next to him to haul him to his feet.

"Yeah, don't I know it," Will winced. He shoved the towel that he'd used to catch sweat off his neck into his belt, where it would hopefully staunch the flow of blood from his belly. He'd probably need to put something else in there for added pressure. Something thick.

Will peeked out from behind his cover to look down the slight slope of the valley. All he saw was bush. Really, all he ever saw anymore was bush. But Charlie was still out there, surely, regrouping for a counterattack. It was only luck and a little misdirection that had sent them running in the first place.

Darren paused to grasp Will's shoulder. "If there was any way, brother."

"I know. I know. Don't mean nothin'." Will gasped at the pain in his belly. "Anyway. 'Tell my momma I done my best,' right?"

"I will," Darren nodded. He heaved Carlisle up in his big arms and hustled off away from Will. "Or better yet, tell his cracker wife an' daughter!" he shouted, then muttered, "Yeah. Tell 'em you owe your ass to a darkie."

Will pulled up the M-60, then laid his M-16 next to it. If he could keep both of them going for just a little while when the Cong made their next move, he could hopefully make it look like there was more than one of him up here. That had already worked once when he and Darren rushed back, guns blazing and grenades going everywhere in their ploy to rescue Sergeant Carlisle. Maybe he could keep the gag going.

None of this would've happened had the rest of their patrol been better about staying together. But Sergeant Haffner had lost his cool, calling a full retreat without stopping for shit, and in the effort to keep up with him the rest of the six-man team became too spread out. With Haffner long gone up ahead and Jimenez wasted from behind, everything turned into a real mess.

Long Range Recon Patrols used to be more together than this. Will gave that a bitter moment's thought, but shoved it aside. He had to get ready for the inevitable. Will dug through his pack, through rations and his poncho and other gear to find the spare Claymore mine. Along the way, the letter from Stephanie fell out.

It was a waste of precious seconds, but he thumbed it open. It wasn't the one she sent while he was on his first tour. Instead, it was the one she'd sent just after his second began, angrily justifying herself. He didn't understand why she thought he wanted to hear anything she had to say after the last time he'd seen her. It was really simple: he went off to war, she said she loved him and she'd wait for him, said she needed him to send money because she couldn't find work...and then he came home after a year in the 'Nam to find her four months pregnant and engaged to whatshisname.

Why in the fuck he was humping that letter through the bush after a whole 'nother tour was beyond him. He'd meant to bring the one from his younger brother, who wouldn't have to go to 'Nam while Will was in country...or at all now, since Will wouldn't exactly be leaving. Will wouldn't have re-upped for 'Nam if Stephanie hadn't been cheating on him, but at least there was that much good coming from the whole mess.

"Just one more tour, my ass," Will hissed at himself. Then he heard the snap off to his left. Will raised his M-16 one-handed and started firing off rounds. It wasn't to hit anyone in particular so much as to make a ruckus and keep the enemy's heads down for a while.

Big Darren could haul ass through the bush. He'd make good time even while weighed down by that jackass redneck. Darren was cool. West coast kid. Will liked him, particularly for a white boy. Maybe in his next life Will would have to live on the west coast. It'd be nice if a body could have another chance.

He saw a head pop up, and a rifle, and he blew it away with the sixty. He blew away everything around it, too. Every tree branch, every blade of grass. Every nasty little bug.

Will heard shrieks of pain from that direction. He poured it on.

They flanked him, of course. Shot him twice, in the leg and the small of his back, causing him to jerk and crunch up and choke with pain. Almost over.

They'd want a prisoner. They dug taking prisoners.

Will had hidden the detonator to the Claymore mine right under his backpack. They didn't see it as he reached for it. The three Viet Cong that came up on him and turned him over onto his back didn't see the Claymore mine itself where it was stuffed under his shirt, either.

Not until he set it off.