A Battle Raging Read Free

actually seen her naked. His impression of her body was too close for comfort.
    He folded the picture again and again until he could fit it in his jacket pocket.
    "Thank you," he said softly before maneuvering his chair toward the back and out of the door.
    She stood there looking at the empty door. Only nine more weeks to go. Nine weeks during which she wasn't sure she would survive.
     

CHAPTER 2
     
    Lex headed the advance unit this time out. It was hot as hell with the noon day sun bearing down on them. Twelve men altogether. The temperature had already passed the one-hundred degree mark an hour ago. Rivers of sweat trailed down Zack's face and back, dampening his skin and uniform. Despite the blazing heat, a cold pit had settled in his stomach. He was all too aware that any of them might accidentally set off an IED hidden beneath the ground's surface. Just one step could blow them all to kingdom come. That was always a danger, no matter where they went. They had lost Mike in a similar bombing only a couple of months before in Anar Dara and none of them had come to terms with the loss. Now they had reached a bombed out section of the Pur Chaman district within the Farah province to do reconnaissance on an area of deserted homes. Word was that members of the Taliban were using the district as a temporary headquarter to initiate an all out attack on U.S. forces. The deserted buildings, many of them nothing more than huts made of mud brick with just a few stone edifices, made optimal hiding places for insurgents and could be a death trap for U.S. units.
    The sweltering heat made the five-pound weight of the M27 he was hauling feel even heavier. Not that the weapon was actually heavier, but heat tended to enervate a man (or woman), make every step feel like it was dragging a body down. But the weariness was offset by the adrenaline arising from the mind-numbing tension. Any sound, no matter how innocuous, might signal a band of insurgents ready to ambush them. And a sound might come from anywhere, or from all directions. Might be just a dog wandering among the devastation. Or could be a Taliban motherfucker with his gun trained on them, ready to send a flurry of bullets through their brains.
    Lex began giving orders.
    "Deacon, Yancy, Smith, take the houses on the northern corner of the block. Sweep it clean. Milburn, Davis, Smith, Jr. take the opposite side. You know what to do."
    There were two Smiths on this detail - Jack and Lamont. To avoid any confusion, Lex referred to Lamont as Junior as he was the younger by twelve years. A cherry, actually as this was his first tour of duty.
    "Yarborough, Eisenberg, Clarence, take that cluster of buildings over there. Hinton, McDonald, you two are with me. We'll sweep the rest of the street, starting with that two story building in the middle of the square."
    The trios of men splintered off to their designated assignments. Zach led the way to one of the deserted homes, Marty Eisenberg and Joseph Clarence following closely behind. Before the barrage bombings, the area had been about ninety-five percent Tajik. Seemingly the regular citizenry had evacuated. Anyone they found still in the vicinity was to be treated as a possible hostile.
    In the distance, beyond the village a silhouette of mountains reached skyward, meeting a haze of blue, yellow and white. A beautiful sight amidst so much destruction. An illusion of peace amidst a reality of war. Just an illusion.
    Zach reached the gaping hole that had once been the door of the targeted house. Rubble lay everywhere inside on a stone floor. The east wall of the home was totally decimated and they could see the outer wall of the neighboring building. There was some sort of graffiti written; from what Zach knew of the language, he deciphered that it was anti-American.
    Toward the rear of the home were remnants of a straw pallet and a small table. Sparse furnishing even by village standards. The blast had destroyed everything else. No doubt