A New World: Chaos (34 page)

I feel wary about transiting through this area.
 
I mean, after all, this is a war zone.
 
If there are any fighters still around and capable, odds dictate this is the place they would most likely be.
 
However, there is no reply to my calls on guard or lights suddenly showing up on our wingtips.
 
Nor do we suddenly blow up.
 
About fifty miles out, I see a very faint glow on the horizon ahead of us.
 
I am unsure whether it is just a glow from another fire or actual lights.
 
Continuing my descent, running through my checks, and setting up the nav, I make a call on guard, “This is Otter 39 on UHF guard.
 
Anyone read?”

Sergeant First Class Lynn Connell hangs up the phone attached to her computer ever so thankful to have it.
 
That and the Internet service provided here in Kuwait allows her to maintain contact with her boyfriend back in the states; their twice daily calls and contact eases the deployment to a large degree.
 
During the times the Internet was down, time seemed to drag on for an eternity when she was off work.
 
It’s not like she could just waltz down for some beer and darts so it was reading and the Internet.
 
God a beer would go down good,
she thinks shutting off her laptop and getting ready for yet another day in the desert.

Today just has the feel of one of those days, well, every day here is one of those days but this one just feels different.
 
Packing up, she opens the steel barracks door and steps out into the blazing morning sun, the temperature already beginning its climb to another scorching day.
 
Sand!
 
I hate sand!
 
She thinks adjusting her polarized sunglasses, her digital camo uniform instantly warm from the sun.
 
Not much longer to go.

Looking over the top of the barracks building as she starts walking over for breakfast, she sees an aircraft descending into the small field located on the camp, silhouetted against the light blue sky.
 
As the aircraft descends below the tan building, she ponders her day.
 
I have to get my shot today
, she thinks to herself, the sand stirring up beneath her boots with each step.
 
Perhaps after lunch or after work on my way to the gym
.
 
Most of the personnel in her office received them yesterday and, with military personnel having only 48 hours to get one, this is the last day to get it.

Arriving at the dining facility after walking down the sand-covered avenues between the various buildings; Sergeant Connell removes her cap and steps through the wooden door and into the cooler interior.
 
The first thing she notices is the distinct emptiness.
 
Groovy
, she thinks heading to the chow line.
 
No
lines.
 
It sure seems a lot bigger in here without the usual crowd
.
 
Not caring why it is mostly empty, she grabs her usual omelet and notices the usual cook who makes her big omelets is not here.

“Where’s Private Sampson?”
 
She asks as an omelet is placed on her plate and tray.

“Sick call,” the soldier behind the counter and clear plastic separator answers.

Gathering her food,
Lynn
glances out over the expanse and selects one of the many empty tables after grabbing a paper to read.
 
Hacking away at the omelet with her plastic Spork, she catches up on the headlines.
 
The first few pages note the numerous sicknesses and escalating death rate from the Cape Town flu.
 
Another article reminds military personnel to get their vaccination by the end of the deadline.
 
There are articles detailing the enlisted, NCO, and officer of the month along with an inside view of the tactical operations center she is associated with.
 
The Master Sergeant list is also published and her name is listed along with the other promotees.

“Not bad, two months in a row,” she says under her breath, remembering her picture in the paper last month as NCO of the month.

Finishing her meal, Lynn steps back out into the morning sun and sand and walks through the climbing heat to work.
 
The only thing different about this day from the previous three hundred and some odd days is the amount of soldiers walking about, or lack thereof.
 
While not a crowd, there are usually a fair number of soldiers about on various errands, but today, there are very few to be seen.
 
Lynn
sees a couple here and there hurrying about some business or another, well, hurrying being relevant as the intensity of the sun and heat prevents too much of that.
 
Walking into her building, actually a large tent structure, she notices this absence of people trend continuing.

Many desks are situated in neat columns and rows in a large open space to one side of the building and she heads over to her desk.
 
Many of the desks remain unoccupied.
 
She settles in and fires up her computer starting her day.
 
With the screen coming to life and logging in,
Lynn
opens up her email.
 
Nothing much greets her except a brigade-wide reminder to get flu shots.
 
A few others are reminders of meetings and odds and ends to take care.
 
As she opens up her third email, her commander, Captain Braser, walks into the open area and heads immediately for
Lynn
’s desk.
 
Lynn
stands up at attention as Captain Braser approaches.

“Sergeant Connell, I’m going to need you to cover until 2100.
 
There’ve been a number of sick calls this morning,” Braser says.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lynn replies and Captain Braser then turns and walk away.

There goes the gym
, Lynn thinks sitting once again.
 
I really hate this place
.
 
Well, maybe it will make the day go faster.
 
I hope Jack is still up when I get back
.
 
She attempts to log onto her personal email account to send him an email telling him she’ll be working late but gets a notice stipulating that the site has been temporarily blocked and to contact her system administrator.
 
She tries sending a message from her work email but it comes back as undeliverable.
 
Great
, she thinks and dives back into work, checking with those under her command to make sure that they will be getting or have received their flu shots along with a myriad of other tasks.

Just before noon, an email comes in extending the time to get the Cape Town flu shots for an additional 24 hours.
 
Good, I’ll just get it tomorrow
, she thinks relieved in some way.
 
Lynn spends the rest of the day and her shift handling inquiries, sorting through messes that a redeployment can bring about, and ensuring those under her are doing their jobs.
 
Shutting down her workstation at 2100, she retraces her route back to the dining facility for dinner and then to the barracks.
 
She fires up her laptop hoping Jack is still on but can’t get connected to the internet.
 
Yep, it’s definitely been one of those days
, she thinks shutting it back down and settling back on her bunk with her book.
 
I hope it’s up in the morning
.

The sun has yet to make its daily appearance but the eastern sky has started to lighten as
Lynn
wakes up early the next morning and heads over to the gym.
 
The night chill still hangs in the air as she sleepily makes her way amongst the darkened buildings under the outside lights on the building entrances and along the avenues.
 
I need 6 miles today
, Lynn mumbles thinking about the marathon she is planning when she returns to the states and the missed run yesterday.
 
Stepping up on the treadmill, she thinks about how nice it will be to sleep in when she gets back, and to see Jack.
 
And drive my Jeep
, she thinks, watching the first mile pass by.

With six miles and a shower under her belt,
Lynn
is once again back at the barracks and frustrated that the Internet is still down.
 
With nothing much to do in the barracks, she decides to head into work early.
 
Finished dressing, she heads back out into the desert as the sun crests the eastern horizon over the gulf just a few miles away.
 
With another omelet filling her up, she walks into work noticing again the lack of personnel around.
 
It’s early yet though
, she thinks logging onto her workstation.
 
The several enlisted and NCO’s that are in the room with her are clustered around a desk close by shooting the shit.
 
Close enough that she can overhear some of their conversation as she starts through her email.

“Did you hear that Sergeant Vosel was attacked by Private Edwich last night?”
 
One voice from the group says.

“I heard he killed him,” a second voice says.

“I’ve heard of several attacks over in zone two and that some of the medics were attacked,” says yet a third voice.

“I have a friend over in an MP squad that says they had to round up several people who were just running around attacking others at random.
 
I don’t know if I believe it or not, he’s full of shit sometimes,” one of the voices speaks out.

“And what’s up with all of these sick calls?”
 
The first voice asks.
 
“I don’t want to cover yet again.”

“I’ve actually heard some of those on sick call have died.”

The conversation doesn’t exactly stop but the volume dies to the point where Lynn can only hear an occasional murmur and wonders if she is going to have to cover another shift.
 
Not that it matters much really now, there’s not much else to do with the Internet down,
she thinks concentrating and focusing once again on the redeployment.

After responding to a few more messages and making sure everyone is doing what they should be doing and where they should be, Lynn stands up, stretches, and heads outside for a break.
 
There has been no sign of Captain Braser and she is quite thankful for that.
 
The assault of heat greets her as she steps into the bright mid-morning sun.
 
Lynn sees her friend standing by the corner of the building having a smoke and walks over.

“Sergeant Connell,” he says and nods, inhaling on the cigarette between his fingers, as Lynn steps up in front of him.
 
Dressed in the same digital uniform with Sergeant First Class Stripes on the front and standing a good six inches taller than her, she has to tilt her head up slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Sergeant Drescoll,” she says, noticing the bags under his slightly bloodshot brown eyes.
 
“Stay up late?”
 
She asks.

“Yeah.
 
Had to cover an additional shift last night,” Drescoll says taking the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling; the smoke drifting away from the two of them.

“Me too.
 
It looks like more of the same tonight although I haven’t seen the Captain yet.”

“God, I hope not.
 
I’m exhausted from last night and just want to sleep,” Sergeant Drescoll says in response.
 
“I heard rumors over at the office of some attacks last night.
 
I mean, our own people attacking each other.”

“I just heard the same thing inside,”
Lynn
says glancing back toward the building entrance.

“I also heard they’re going to start quarantining those who report to sick call with the flu.
 
I hope that’s not the case; there are enough out as it is.”
 
Lynn merely nods at this wondering how long they’re going to be short staffed and how far behind this is going to put the redeployment.

“You know,” Drescoll says stubbing out his smoke, “I also heard there are a lot of people dying from this shit.”

“Well, that’s already in the news,” Lynn replies remembering the news articles she read and commented on with Jack.

“No!
 
I mean from the vaccinations,” Sergeant Drescoll says with emphasis.
 
“You get yours yet?”

“No, I was planning to get it after lunch or work.”