Once a Marine, Always a Marine

Allie was sleeping uncomfortably. One of those nights, she heard the pops and the screaming. She tossed and turned.

Al-Shara was a young girl she knew from her time in a village close to a city called Ka-Sar. She was a beautiful young girl with long raven hair. She would see her every day coming home from the market in the town. She would walk the streets, and we would pass each other. She would tip her head and call her Miss. One afternoon, after passing her for a couple of weeks, she stopped and told Allie her name, Al-Shara. She had a thick accent, but her English was excellent. She thought calling her Miss was strange. She told her that it was a sign of respect. She blushed and said to her that she was not worthy of respect. Allie told her everyone deserves respect when they are respectful people. Al-Sarah smiled, tipped her head, and said, miss. Allie told her to call her Kingston or Caretaker. Al-Sarah liked Caretaker because Allie cared about the people of her village. They started making small talk. She brought some of her friends to meet her. They were all about her age. They shared their names. There was a tall one named Bathsheba; the youngest was named Canta, and then there was named Marta. Marta had an exceptionally large burn scar on her face. She told Allie that she had refused the advances of an evil man, and he was angry. He burned her so no man would ever want her.

"Marta, I have scars, too, and I know someone is waiting for me." She smiled at her.

"Yes, but you are beautiful," Marta said.

"Marta, you are beautiful."

She saw the girls at the same time every day after. They stopped to talk to "their caretaker."

One day, she didn't see them, and then another, and another. She told her Major that she wanted to look for them.

"I have a bad feeling; they are just four innocents."

"Take Malibu. You are to abide by the rules of engagement. As far as I am concerned, you are going on patrol. Not looking for the girls. You know military personnel are not to take on civilization issues. Understand? Do not do anything stupid. Please. I can't afford to lose you to a court marshal."

They went out in the darkness, looking for them. Malibu heard them first. It was muffled crying coming from one of the supposed abandoned huts. She took the back, and Malibu took the front. She saw her friends lying on the ground. They had been raped and beaten bloody. The look of fear on the girls' faces enraged her. There were two men in the dusty hut. Both are holding assault rifles. Every time one would make a noise, they would point the rifles at the girls' heads and shout they would kill them, and they would never go home. Marta saw her out of the corner of her damaged eye. She quickly put my finger up her lips to hush her. She immediately put her head down. Allie ducked. One of the men caught the slightest glimpse of her tactical helmet. He turned and fired at the door. Allie did a tactical roll, and the bullet missed her by an inch. He shot first. Malibu kicked in the front door and took down the first man. She kicked in the back door and did the same with a single shot to the middle of the skull. Pink mist went everywhere. The girls rushed her.

"Caretaker! We knew you would come for us! I kept telling them to have faith in Allah. You would save us!" Marta exclaimed.

They ran to her, one girl on each arm and the other two around her waist. Malibu looked at her as if to say, "We are lucky they fired first. If not, we would have broken the rules of engagement." She introduced the girls to Malibu. All four immediately went to him and hugged him the same way.

"Thank you, Mally-boo."

Marta spoke. "Is he your someone who loves you even though you have scars?"

"He's adorable," Bathsheba said shyly.

Allie and Malibu locked eyes.

ALLIE, GET UP! DO YOU HEAR ME! GET UP!

Malibu never wanted to be able to touch her so badly. He needed to shake her awake.

She heard Malibu yelling at her in what she thought was her dream.

ALLIE SOMEONE IS TRYING TO GET INTO YOUR APARTMENT! WAKE THE FUCK UP, PLEASE BABY!

She woke from her dream and heard the deadbolt disengage. It was quiet, but she heard it.

Someone is breaking into the house, Caretaker!

She grabbed her phone and dialed 911. She whispered into the phone while she rummaged through her bedside table for her Sig.

"This is Allie Kingston. I was a Detective in the 6th. Someone is in my apartment," she said.

She couldn't find her gun.

You put it down on the kitchen counter when you got home.

"Fuck," she said. She spoke quietly through gritted teeth.

"The person is in my kitchen; I can hear the sound of his footsteps. Dress shoes."

"Who the fuck wears dress shoes to break into a person's house."

An idiot. Or someone who will ensure it doesn't matter what shoes he wears.

She slid out of bed and stood behind her door. It opened slowly, quietly.

"Detective, I need your address," the dispatcher said.

Allie stayed quiet. The door slowly opened. The man peered into the room through the gap.

Allie reared her foot back and kicked the door as hard as she could, just like in her dream. Her bare foot stung.

"MOTHER FUCKER!" She heard him scream. His head was hit hard between the door and the jam. He stumbled backward. His dress shoes made a heavy sound on the floor.

He had a dagger in his left hand. He jabbed it towards her. She kicked him in the chest, and he flew backward. She started towards him. He swung the knife wildly in front of him to keep her at bay.

"Now be a good girl, or I will cut that spawn out of your belly, and you can watch it die right along with you," he snarled. "Who does it belong to? The sasquatch of the Mexican?"

They were circling each other like wild animals.

"I was willing to die to protect strangers. What do you think I'll do to protect my baby, you fucking prick? And he's Latino asshole!"

She lunged forward. He swung the dagger. She tried to duck, but it caught the side of her face. The pain went all the way up through her head. She could have sworn she felt it hit her teeth. The gash went from her lower jaw to her ear.

"FUCK!" she shouted.

Her face felt like it was on fire. She shoved him as hard as she could and ran towards the kitchen to grab her gun.

He tackled her, and they both hit the floor hard; the dagger flew across the room and slid under her couch. She landed on her stomach. It knocked the wind out of them. Peanut started to kick wildly.

"Look what you made me do to that pretty face. Who's going to want you now!"

She bucked him off her back and scrambled to return to her feet. He grabbed her leg and pulled hard. She hit the floor ass first. He pinned her to the floor, his hands around her neck, squeezing as hard as he could. He slammed her head against the floor. Her vision went black, then came back. She was extremely disoriented. He reached down and put his hand between her thighs.

YOU SON OF A BITCH GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!

She started to come around. She felt his hand pulling at her shorts. She dug her thumb into his eye and grabbed for his throat. He screamed in pain. She tucked her knees in and extended her legs. He tumbled ass overhead.

She got to her feet, her face heavily dripped blood onto the floor, her chest, down her arm, soaking into her T-shirt. She was dizzy. While she was trying to catch her center of gravity, he went to land a punch.

She blocked it and jabbed him in the face, breaking his nose. It sent him stumbling back, hitting the living room wall. He was seeing double.

"You fucking bitch!" he yelled.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to a lady?"

She charged at him, pinning him to the wall. She went to punch him again, but he slid his head to the side, and her fist made contact, cracking the drywall.

"Fuck!" she yelled in pain.

He put his shoulder into her chest and charged her. They both ended up on the opposite wall. Peanut continued to kick wildly. Allie's head hit the wall so hard she felt the drywall give way. She was pinned between the wall and him. She grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulled him towards her, and threw her head forward, head-butting him as hard as the momentum would let her. He reeled backward.

Son of a bitch mother fucking shit eating cock sucker! "Nobody wins with a headbutt."

"There's my girl! Kick his ass, Taker!"

She was stumbling around, trying to catch her barring. He ran forward and shoved her into her bedroom. She fell backward onto the bed, her legs hanging over the side.

"Exactly where I wanted you. I've been watching you. You're are the one."

When she heard him say that, she knew exactly who this was. It was the guy in the bar. She tried to get up, and he punched her in the face. She felt her orbital bone fracture on the other side of her face. She was close to losing consciousness.

"I've never had the pleasure of a pregnant woman before. I am so happy it's you, Alexsandra Kingston."

He went to unbutton his pants, and she brought her knee up between his legs and walloped him in the testicles. He dropped to his knees.

GO! GO! RUN ALLIE!

Malibu felt helpless. All he could do was yell, which wasn't helping her much.

She took off to the kitchen for her gun. She was seeing stars.

BEHIND YOU!

He shoved her from behind. She flew forward and hit the stove, going hip first. The pain went down her leg down to her toes.

He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her backward away from the kitchen into the living room. He put her in a chokehold. She struggled, her legs kicking wildly. She grabbed his arms, bent over, and threw him over her shoulder; he crashed into the coffee table. The cheap wood broke in half, and he landed hard, a piece of wood sticking him in the back of his leg.

He bellowed in pain.

He went to get back up. She took Malibu's flag off the wall and slammed it into his head. The glass shattered, and the mahogany wood split into three pieces.

She tried again to run to the counter. He grabbed her ankle, and she went down. She landed hard on her shoulder, trying desperately to keep her belly from hitting the floor. She was able to fall on her side with only part of her belly hitting the floor.

Oh, now you pissed her off. Say hello to Satan and Osama Bin Ladden because she is going to kill you, you sick son of a bitch.

He was trying to grab her other ankle while pulling her towards him. She kicked him in the face with her heel, hitting his already broken nose. He immediately let her go.

Crawling over to him, she took his forearm with both hands; her right leg went over his neck, her other over his waist, and locked him into place. She squeezed her legs, trapping the arm between them like a vice. She leaned backward and pulled his wrist up to her chest; she pushed up with her hips, and she pulled his hand toward her chest and to the right. Her hand was broken. The intense adrenaline pumping through her was the only thing keeping her conscious. His elbow dug into her stomach. He howled. She screamed. The sound fills the entire 4th floor.

Maybe now someone would call the fucking police, she thought. His arm was hyperextended. She pulled as hard as she could, and his elbow pushed harder into her stomach. It finally broke backward at the elbow, and his shoulder dislocated. The pressure was released from her stomach. He yelled for her to stop.

FUCK YES! ALLIE! THAT WAS BADASS!

She struggled to get to her feet. She stumbled. She nodded at Malibu, breathing hard, blood and sweat rolling down the side of her face. Her broken cheek, her eye swelling.

"Fuck yeah, it was."

She limped to the counter, confident that he was not going anywhere, and picked up her Sig Sauer P365. Her right hand felt like it was shattered, and the only thing keeping the bones inside was her skin. She held it in her left hand and pointed it at him as he lay on the ground. She felt sick, the overload of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Peanut abruptly stopped squirming inside her.

She crouched down and pressed the Sig hard against his temple. "Give me a reason. Please. I will make sure your family can't have an open casket," she said.

Nine pairs of heavy boots could be heard echoing up the stairwell. Officers shouting her name. The nine officers with guns drawn quickly filtered one by one into her apartment.

"Kingston! Kingston, we got it. Remove your gun," Officer Fancher commanded.

She was in a trance, pushing the gun further into the man's head, trying to make it come out of the other temple.

Allie, it's over! Don't do anything stupid! Think about the baby.

"I am thinking about the baby."

What are you going to do, Allie? Shoot him?

"Yes, I'll call it self-defense."

Not anymore, you can't. You've got nine witnesses standing behind you! You'll be breaking the rules of engagement.

"You're right."

"Who is she talking to?" one of the officers asked.

The one he was standing next to shrugged his shoulders.

"DETECTIVE! REMOVE YOUR FIREARM NOW! DETECTIVE! ALLIE!" Officer Fancher screamed.

She snapped out of it. She dropped the Sig on the floor next to her. He came over and slowly picked up the gun. She rose to her feet and put her hands up. She was highly unsteady.

"We are here, detective. Your part is done," he said.

"I'm not a detective anymore," she told him.

"Then what are you?" the man croaked.

"I'm a mother fucking Marine she spit in the man's face. It was full of blood and landed right between his eyes. "You broke into the wrong fucking apartment, asshole," she said.

She kicked him square in the ribs. Everybody heard one crack.

"You should be fucking thanking me for only breaking your arm and putting a gun to your head. I could have easily broken your fucking neck."

She could have. I have seen her do it.

The officers were just looking back and forth from him to her. Fancher spoke first.

"God Allie, you really fucked him up," he said.

She looked around. "Not as bad as my apartment," she said. She was swaying a bit.

"Allie, are you okay?" Officer Geraci asked.

She put her palm on her forehead. "I am fine. Fine," she said, trying to reassure them.

The room started going black no matter how wide she tried to open her eyes. The adrenaline drained from her body like someone pulled a plug out of the bathtub. She felt the baby move one last time. She threw up and went down like a wounded animal.

Geraci was standing behind her. He caught her in mid-fall.

"Call an RA NOW!" he yelled.

Officer Hobart queued up his mike.

"C 451 to dispatch, we need an RA at 4614 Clairmont, Kingston residence. We have a female victim early thirties. She is breathing but unresponsive. Call ahead to Metro. She is going to need level 1 trauma care." he looked at the man. "Send another one while you're at it. We have an injured male suspect on the scene. Broken arm, nose, large stake of wood in the right calf, through the muscle."

"Hey, guys. GUYS!"

Geraci stripped the bloody shirt, exposing her stomach, looking for injuries. She was in a black sports bra and matching boy shorts underneath. He put his hand on her swollen belly.

"Holy shit. She's pregnant," Hobart said. "Dispatch, our female victim is pregnant. Unsure how far along.

Allie? Allie, can you hear me? Allie, please wake up.

"WHERE THE HELL IS THE AMBO!" Geraci yelled.

The radio keyed up, "C-142 to Dispatch."

"Dispatch, go ahead, C-142."

"Carla, it's Alvarez. Your female victim is 31 weeks, about seven months along.