Noble Beginnings (6 page)

The adrenaline
wore off, and I dozed off, managing to sleep the rest of the afternoon. I awoke
to the sound of my cellmate moaning. I opened my eyes. It took a few minutes to
remember where I was and why. I looked around the cell. The reddish orange
light of the setting sun filled the room. I swung my head over the side of the
bunk and looked at the injured man below me.

His eyes darted
to mine. He held his hand to his jaw. Guttural sounds formed in his throat as
he tried to speak. His wide eyes teared over.

“Shut the hell
up unless you want the other side broken too,” I said.

He fell back
onto his pillow, looked away and said nothing.

I continued to
stare at him, driving the point home. The cell became quiet again.

A knock on the
cell door broke the silence. Someone shouted something through the hole in the
middle of the door, then a key clanked into the lock. The door swung open and
an MP entered carrying trays of food. He stopped when he caught site of the man
on the bottom bunk.

“Jesus Christ,”
the MP said. “What the frig happened to him?”

“He slipped,” I
said, “and hit his chin on the sink.”

The MP put the
trays on the table then clicked a radio on his upper chest fixed to his shirt.
“I need medical in echo wing, first floor, cell four.” He fixed his brown eyes
on me. “Tell me what happened. The truth.”

I sat up. “I
told you already. He fell and hit his chin on the sink.” I leaned over the side
of the bed and looked at my cell-mate. “Ain’t that right?”

He grunted then
moaned.

I smiled.

“Yeah, well,
we’ll figure this out,” the MP said.

“You do that,”
I said.

“Why don’t you
get down and stand in that corner for now.” He pointed toward the toilet and
sink.

I swung my legs
over the side and hopped down and moved slowly to the corner of the room
without taking my eyes off the MP.

He didn’t take
his off of me, either, keeping his palm rested on the handle of his tear gas
gun.

I sat down on
the stainless steel toilet and placed my hands on my knees. The MP seemed
jumpy, and I didn’t want to give him a reason gas me.

Two medics
followed by two more MPs entered the cell a few minutes later. The medics
attended to the injured man on the bottom bunk while the MPs focused their
weapons on me.

“Jaw’s broke,”
one of them said. “Bruised to hell on the left side.”

The MPs looked
at me.

“He fell,” I
said.

The short medic
left the cell then returned a moment later with a wheel chair. They helped the
man off the bed and into the chair and wheeled him out of the room. I found
myself alone with the three MPs.

One closed the
door and leaned back against it. His wide frame blocked the hole in the middle
of the door. The other two approached me and boxed me into the corner. Their
names were affixed to their uniforms, Bates and Sanders.

Bates spoke
first. “Like to beat up on our prisoners?”

I didn’t
respond.

Sanders reached
down and grabbed my shirt and pulled up on the collar, presumably trying to
lift me to my feet.

I didn’t move.

“Get up,” he
said.

I didn’t.

“Now,” he said.

I still didn’t.

They both
reached down and pulled me from the toilet and slammed me against the back
wall. I turned my head and caught a glimpse of the final sliver of the orange
sun before it set behind the expanse of trees that ringed the brig.

The MPs jammed
their elbows into my chest as they leaned into me, taking turns punching me in
the stomach, making sure to avoid my ribs. I kept my abdominal muscles tight as
long as I could. Eventually the blows wore me down and they landed successive
shots that knocked the wind out of me.

They backed
off, and I slid to the floor. I clutched and dragged my nails across the
concrete in an effort to get to my knees and fill my lungs with air. The edge
of my vision darkened. Finally, my lungs expanded and air rushed in through my
mouth. I gasped and exhaled several times.

“We’ll be back
for you later, Noble,” one said.

The last one
left the cell, and the door slammed shut. I knelt on the floor until the sick
feeling in my stomach subsided. Then I pulled myself off the ground and checked
the trays on the table. Chicken, green beans, bread and lukewarm coffee. I
hadn’t eaten in nearly a day and it had been at least that long since my last
cup of coffee. It ended up being one of the best meals I’d ever had.

There wasn’t
much to do in the cell, and the nap combined with the attack by the MPs left me
too amped up to sleep. I paced the space between the bed and the table, walking
from the door to the back window. Stopped and stared out the window. A few
lights flickered in the distance. Other than that it was dark and quiet and
serene.

A bang at the
door jarred me back to reality and I spun around with my arms held in a
defensive position. The door opened, just a crack.

“Noble,” a
voice called.

“Yeah,” I said.

The door opened
further and General Keller stepped in, stopping just inside the entrance. His
close cut grey hair gave way to a face that looked like it was cut from steel.
There were deep lines etched into his forehead, thinner lines spread out from
the corner of his blue eyes and from the sides of his mouth.

I nodded at the
man and felt relief wash over me.

He smiled,
looked to the ground then back up at me. “Christ, Jack, what did you get
yourself into?”

“We didn’t do
anything.”

Keller looked
over his shoulder. “Leave us.”

“Sir, that man
physically injured his cellmate earlier. It’s not safe for you—”

“Dammit, I said
leave us. Do you want me to kick your ass, Corporal?”

“No, sir.”

“Then get the
hell outta here.”

The MP
disappeared from sight, and the cell door shut and remained unlocked.

I cast a glance
toward the door.

“Don’t think
about trying to run, Jack,” Keller said. “Not now, at least.”

“OK,” I said.

“And what is
this mess all over your face? And your hair?” He shook his head. “I remember
when you were a clean cut kid. Now you look like… like one of those bums my
daughter used to bring home.”

“With all due
respect, General,” I said, “I’ve seen your daughter. Do you think she’d be
interested in me with my present look?”

Keller tried to
look stern, but gave up and laughed. “Sit the hell down, Jack.”

I sat across
from him and waited for him to continue.

“I don’t know
where this is coming from,” he said. “But I’m having a bitch of a time getting
you two out of here. Did you piss anyone off over there?”

“Other than
Martinez?” Jack said. “Not that I can think of.”

Keller nodded.
“Someone is issuing this order.” He looked over his shoulder, then back at me.
“I talked to someone, someone up high, who admits you had nothing to do with
the murder of that family. Off the record of course.”

“Of course,” I
said. “You think it’s the CIA then?”

“It’d have to
be, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Who here would do this? I run the damn show and
it’s not me. There’s no one between us.”

I nodded. “Have
you spoken to Abbot?”

“Yeah. Haven’t
been able to talk to him about it yet. But I’ll keep trying. I’m not as
connected as I used to be, Jack. That’s what everyone says, at least.” Keller
stood. Reached into his pocket then threw a pack of cigarettes on the table.
“You keep those, Jack. Maybe you can trade them for something.”

I thanked him
and rose. He stuck out his hand, palm facing me, indicating I should stay where
I was.

“I’m working on
getting you out of here. Stay alert, you got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

*
* *

The light in
the cell cut off at ten p.m. The lights outside the cell dimmed and didn’t
provide much illumination through the square hole in the door. I climbed into
my bunk and tried to get some sleep. It didn’t happen. My face hurt. I tossed
and turned most of the night, replaying the events of the past forty-eight
hours, trying to figure out how I got from Baghdad to Camp Lejeune, from a free
man on a mission, to an imprisoned soldier.

Every fifteen
minutes a patrol passed the door. I’d hear them approach with deliberate steps
on the walkway. They’d reach the door, stop and look in. The room would darken
for five seconds, and then the patrol would back up and move to the next cell.
I thought about getting up, standing at the back of the room, to see what
they’d do. In the end I stayed in bed.

I dozed off a
couple times, each time the sleep lasted longer than the last. By six a.m. I
was fast asleep when banging erupted against the door, waking me up.

I sat up,
shaking the sleep away.

The door swung
open and two MPs entered the cell while a third remained firmly planted in the
doorway, his taser aimed in my direction.

“What’s going
on, guys?” I said.

“You should’ve
been up an hour ago, Noble. Get the hell out of bed.”

They pulled me
down and dragged me out the cell and down hall.

“Where are you
taking me?”

They pushed and
pulled me along and said nothing.

Prisoners
hanging out on the walk parted to the side and ducked into open cells to make way
for us.

We stopped
outside the head. One MP opened the door, and the other two pushed me inside.
All the showers were running, and the room was steamy. A group of four men
stepped through the cloud of warm mist and walked toward me. They wore the same
uniform as every person who wasn’t an MP, and had to have been the four biggest
guys in the place.

I looked back
over my shoulder. Two of the MPs had followed me in and now blocked the only
way out. I assumed the third was positioned on the other side of the door,
blocking the only way in.

The largest of
the men walked up to me. He had to be six-five, maybe six-six, and had forty to
fifty pounds on me. He licked his lips and grabbed my shirt and leaned in
close. I mentally flinched at the smell of his hot, foul breath as it washed
over my face and invaded my nasal passage.

“You like
attacking my friends?” he said.

I shrugged.
“Depends.”

His lips curled
as he grinned, revealing two missing front teeth, one up top, one on the
bottom. As fast as his smile faded, he brought his forehead down into mine.

Tears flooded
my eyes, and I felt a rush of blood flow through my nose and trickle down
across my lips. I spun around and reached out for the wall so I could brace
myself and get my bearings. I found the wall, steadied myself and blinked away
the tears. My eyes refocused, and I saw the four inmates forming a semicircle
around me.

“Guys, look,” I
said. “We don’t have to do this.”

The big man
laughed.

I swung my foot
as hard and fast as I could in the direction of his crotch. It connected with a
thud. He dropped to the floor, a huddled mass gasping in pain. I twisted
sideways and drove my elbow into the nearest man’s face. Blood sprayed from his
nose upon impact, a crunching sound preceded his scream. I blocked a punch by
the third man and countered with a shot to his neck, just above the sternum and
just below his Adam’s apple in the soft fleshy spot that offers little to no
protection. His eyes bugged out and his face went pale, then turned a light
shade of blue while he gasped for air.

The fourth man
landed a blow on the side of my face. I wasn’t expecting it and the force of it
spun me. I regained my footing and charged him as he lunged at me. We met
somewhere in the middle where a grappling match ensued. We rolled on the floor,
fighting for position. I ended up on my back where he managed to get his arms
wrapped around my neck in a choke hold. I arched my back and squeezed an arm
between his, loosening his grip.

I caught sight
of the MPs. They were leaning back against the wall, laughing at the action.

I scanned the
room and spotted the big man on his knees, trying to get to his feet. The other
two prisoners posed no immediate threat.

My legs climbed
their way up the man I was wrestling with until I managed to get my shin across
the front of his neck. A quick shift of momentum and I spun around, coming out
on top with his neck in a death grip between my legs. I arched and twisted. His
mouth opened and his face turned pale and his neck was close to snapping. He
slapped and clawed at my legs. I felt like a savage, yelling as I neared the
moment when I planned to lurch and end his life.

The MPs
intervened, one hitting me over the head with a blackjack. They pulled at my
legs and freed the man from the death grip. His loud gasps for air filled the
room as he crawled across the slick floor on his belly to the row of sinks.

I felt my body
pulled from the floor and flung through the air and pinned against the wall.
The MPs held me there while three of the four men stood.

The door opened
and the third MP stuck his head in. “What the hell is taking so long?”

No one said
anything.

He entered the
room.

“Jesus Christ,”
he said. “What the hell happened in here?”

I caught his
eye and smiled. “You guys got no idea who you’re messing with, do you?”

“Shut up.”

The MP with the
blackjack slammed it across my stomach.

I grimaced
against the pain, forcing a smile even though I couldn’t breathe.

“Just end him,
and let’s get out of here,” the third MP said.

The big man
stepped forward. “Let me do it.” He bared his teeth at me.

“No,” the MP
said. He grabbed the big man by his shoulder. “You guys need to get the hell
out of here.”