The End (3 page)

“Dirty motherfuckers!” Gordon cursed.

Just then, another squad of Marines emerged from the entrance of the building. They were followed by an imbedded reporter and his camera crew.

A corpsman followed behind and immediately started to look over Smitty.

“Suicide bomber killed a Marine in that room,” Gordon informed the new squad of Marines, pointing to the room. “Upstairs is not clear yet. Let's go.”

Gordon and the new squad proceeded upstairs and cleared the area. On the roof, they could see the mosque. There was still no apparent movement.

“Let's go take it,” Gordon said to the Marines. They rushed back downstairs and out across the street. The reporter and his camera crew followed closely.

Smoke flowed from a few windows on the south side of the mosque. The entire south and east sides were riddled with bullet holes. Gordon and the squad approached the front door and stacked up along the east side. Gordon kicked the door, but it did not break down. He kicked it twice more. Nothing.

“Sergeant, I have a shotgun,” a Marine in the squad offered.

“Okay, get up here.”

The Marine shot the door handle twice with his 12-gauge shotgun and backed away. Gordon took a step back and kicked the door; this time it flew open. He tossed a high-explosive grenade through the open door and stepped back, leaning against the wall. The grenade tumbled and rolled down the narrow hall and into the large great room of the mosque. The explosion shook the ground. As was standard operating procedure, he and the Marines proceeded into the mosque after the grenade detonated. The reporter and camera crew followed right behind the last Marine.

The first room on the right side was full of munitions and small arms. The room on the left was vacant except for soiled mattresses. The men proceeded down to the great room, where they found a few Iraqis leaning up against a wall. The Marines loudly demanded they stay still. They all appeared alive, but wounded.

“Do not fucking move, fucking stay put!” Gordon yelled at them. He quickly assessed the situation in the room.

In the background, Gordon could hear the reporter talking to a rolling camera.

“I'm here inside a mosque in Fallujah with the Marines. The battle has been fierce and the Iraqis have put up a tough resistance. In the end, though, they are no match for the superior firepower of the United States Marines. These wounded Iraqis here have managed to survive the heavy onslaught and are requesting aid—”

“Requesting aid? They haven't said a fucking thing!” a Marine from the squad snapped at the reporter.

Gordon, with his rifle firmly planted in his shoulder, kept scanning over the half-dozen Iraqis. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Iraqi at the end of the line move his arm toward something on the ground.

Without hesitation, Gordon turned and fired off a single shot, hitting the Iraqi in the head. The sound from Gordon's gunshot echoed through the great hall.

“Did you get that? Did you get that?” the reporter asked his cameraman.

“Yes, I did,” the cameraman responded, turning the camera on Gordon.

“That Marine there just shot an unarmed and wounded Iraqi,” the reporter said to the camera, pointing directly at Gordon.

Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.

—Anthony Brandt

San Diego, California

“Pink or purple?” Gordon's five-year-old daughter, Haley, asked, showing him two different bottles of nail polish.

“I like purple, but I prefer pink,” Gordon said, looking at his daughter as she started to shake the bottles.

“Can I have a snack after we're done Daddy?” Haley asked, slowly applying polish to Gordon's fingernails.

“Yes, of course, what did you have in mind?” Gordon replied in a soft tone.

“Fruit leather, I want a fruit leather and then I want to watch
Octonauts
!” Haley squealed, looking up. She smiled at Gordon and brushed some hair out of her face.

“Okay, fruit leather it is.” Gordon smiled, looking at Haley.

Haley was small for her age, very girly with long, blond curly hair and very fine features. She was definitely all-girl and loved everything princess.

Gordon adored his family and felt blessed to have his two children. Hunter, his seven-year-old son, and Haley were his pride and joy. His entire life revolved around them and Samantha, his wife.

He had met Samantha about a year after his tumultuous departure from the Marines. They were married after a year and had Hunter within the next. He was happy, secure and lived each day in the now. He never thought too much about his time in the Corps and when he did, it seemed like it was a different life entirely; almost as though it wasn't even his life, but someone else's.

Though his time in combat didn't come to mind often, his everyday life was still influenced by his two tours in Iraq. The experience had shifted his priorities and shaped his perspective. He was no longer the idealist who believed in helping all. Instead, he had become more pragmatic and only wished to take care of his family. He was done sacrificing for those he considered “clueless.”

“After you're done in the salon, meet me outside,” Samantha said to Gordon as she passed the doorway on her way to the kitchen.

Gordon looked over his shoulder. “Okay, but are you sure you don't need a mani-pedi too?”

Samantha shouted from the kitchen down the hall, “Maybe later. Haley needs a little quiet time and you and I need some adult time.”

“Adult time? Like ‘adult time' or adult time where you have to tell me something and have my full attention?” Gordon yelled back while watching Haley finish applying nail polish to his last finger.

“You'll find out later,” she hollered from the kitchen

“You're such a tease,” Gordon shot back.

“What is a tease, Daddy?” asked Haley.

“Well, honey, it's when—”

“Haley, it's when we play jokes on one another,” Samantha interrupted, now standing in the doorway of the play room.

Gordon whipped his head back over his shoulder. “Gosh you move so quickly and stealth-like.” He winked and noticed a semi-irritated look on her face.

Samantha stood there, looking at her husband. She loved him so much. She felt so blessed to have such a good man and good father to their two children. She couldn't think of too many men who would subject themselves to having their nails painted pink. She was so proud that he actually took an interest in his children and loved how important they were to him.

She continued admiring Gordon. He fit her perfect profile of a man. He was tall and ruggedly handsome with a chiseled jaw, light eyes, and broad shoulders. Haley looked so small next to him, dwarfed by his strong, muscular build. She knew from the first time they met that he would always take care of her. She felt safe with him.

“Done, Daddy! Now can I have my snack?” Haley asked sweetly as she closed the nail polish bottle.

“Of course,” Gordon answered. He started to blow his fingers dry, but paused when he noticed Samantha still staring. He looked up to her and asked jokingly, “Does the pink bring out the blue in my eyes?”

Haley jumped up and ran out of the room, down the hall toward the kitchen. Gordon jumped up and followed, of course mindful of the wet nail polish he had on his fingers.

“So what's up?” he asked Samantha before leaning forward to kiss her on the lips.

“Let me set up Haley for quiet time and I'll meet you outside on the patio in, say, five minutes,” Samantha responded, then kissed him back.

 • • • 

Gordon sat on the patio and waited for Samantha to come out and join him. He leaned back, kicked his legs up onto the outside coffee table, and let the mid-afternoon sun warm his face. While he had a love/hate relationship with Southern California in general, he definitely loved the weather. He preferred smaller towns, and San Diego definitely wasn't a small town anymore. All in all, though, life was good. He enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle, a nice group of friends, and the family he had around him. The one family member he wished was around more often was his little brother, Sebastian, who had joined the Marines four years after Gordon had left the Corps. His brother originally followed in his footsteps and became a TOW gunner, but it proved a bit boring for him. Being a man of adventure, he would now try out to be a Scout Sniper.

Gordon's slumber in the sun was interrupted when he heard Samantha come outside. He opened his eyes to find her hovering over him.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, looking down on him, her arms crossed.

“Why, yes, I am, thank you for asking,” Gordon replied with a grin on his face.

“When were you going to tell that your brother was coming down tonight for dinner?” Samantha asked, taking a seat across from him. “You know I need notice so I can get the house ready.”

“I thought I told you. I'm sorry,” Gordon said, sitting up more in his chair. “It is okay, right? We don't have anything else going on, do we?”

Gordon looked at Samantha sitting across from him. He fell for her instantly when they met. He loved everything about her, from her small frame and long, wavy blond hair to her light green eyes and full lips. For him she fit the portrait of the perfect woman.

“No, we're fine; I just need to know next time. Had I not checked the voicemail, I never would have known. Just promise me you'll give me some notice next time.”

Gordon stood up and walked over to Samantha. He softened his voice. “Absolutely, honey.”

He bent down and gave her a big hug and kiss and whispered into her ear, “How about I apologize more upstairs?”

Samantha, a bit stubborn, pulled back and said, “You know I have things to do.”

“All things can wait,” Gordon said, even softer, knowing his wife too well. He followed up with a proposal. “How about I help you with your stuff later if you help me with my stuff now?”

Samantha raised her eyebrows and smiled mischievously. “Deal!”

She grabbed his hand and they both ran upstairs.

 • • • 

“Someone's at the door!” Hunter yelled excitedly.

“Go ahead and get it; it should be your uncle Sebastian!” Samantha said from the kitchen. She was too busy preparing a salad to go to the door.

“Gordon, I think your brother is here!” she called out to Gordon, who was in his office working. Samantha loved Sebastian but didn't always like his visits. It wasn't Sebastian's fault, but just having him around made Gordon act differently. She knew that Gordon would be very distant in the days after Sebastian's departure.

“Uncle Sebastian!” Hunter screamed as he opened the door. Hunter and Haley loved his visits; they always had the best time when he was around.

“Uncle Sebastian, Uncle Sebastian!” Haley screamed as she bounded down the stairs.

Sebastian stepped inside and picked up Hunter. Haley made it down the stairs and grabbed his leg.

“Hey guys, how are my favorite niece and nephew?” Sebastian asked. He squatted down and picked up Haley with his other arm. He walked into the kitchen where Samantha was still rushing around, preparing dinner.

Sebastian was tall and, as they say in the Corps, “lean and mean.” He and Gordon looked very similar; there was no mistaking they were brothers. The major differences came from their seven-year age gap: Gordon was slowly getting a widow's peak and a bit of gray on his sides. Sebastian had a full head of thick brown hair and no gray. While he was a hard charger, he didn't go for the flat tops or high and tight haircuts; he liked his hair and made sure it was just regulation or longer if he could get away with it. Sebastian always had a smile on his face and took life more lightly, as opposed to his brother, who had a more serious and stoic persona.

Sebastian wanted to have kids himself one day, but for now he enjoyed the life of a single Marine. He still had the adventure bug, and with the Corps being tough enough without a family, he thought it not fair to start one. So for now, Sebastian took what family life he could get with his brother's family.

“Hi, Samantha!”

“Hi, Sebastian, how are you?” Samantha replied, looking flustered trying to get everything finished. Samantha was a perfectionist and needed everything to look perfect for guests. She stopped for a few seconds to give Sebastian a quick hug and peck on the cheek, though. “Gordon is out in his office finishing up a project. Go ahead on back.”

“I think I'll do that”—he looked down to the kids in his arms and raised his eyebrows—“but first I have a couple of monkeys on me that need to see what Uncle Sebastian got them.”

Both kids squealed, “Presents!”

He let the kids down and squatted so he could look at them eye to eye, “Go out front and you'll see two bags on the table out there. The green one is Hunter's and the pink one is—”

“Mine!” Haley cried out, already running to the front door. Hunter did not hesitate either and took off.

Sebastian stood up and approached the kitchen island, “Wow, something smells great! I'm hungry.”

“I hope you are, we have tons of food and Gordon ran out a bit ago and picked up your favorite tri-tip.”

“You guys are great, thank you,” Sebastian said, looking at Samantha, happy his brother had found such a wonderful wife. It made him smile when he thought about how much his brother deserved this life, especially after everything he'd been through.

Samantha had the TV on in the background as she cooked; it was really the only time she could catch up with the news. Her two kids were a full-time job, demanding more than a fair share of her day.

On the TV, Bill O'Reilly was interviewing the Republican speaker of the house, Brad Conner, and Democratic California representative Shelly Gomez.

“The president is clearly failing in ensuring our country is safe. Allowing Iran to manufacture nuclear fuel and only slapping their hands will not keep us safe. The Iranian regime cannot be trusted. We need—”

“—need what, Mr. Speaker, another war?” Representative Gomez shot back.

“We must keep everything on the table and we need to project strength, not telegraph the fact that he will not use force.”

“Speaker Conner, you are a proponent of pre-emptive strikes. Do you favor striking Iranian nuclear facilities if we had solid intelligence that they were making nuclear weapons or selling weapons-grade fuel to terrorists?” asked O'Reilly.

“Bill, Iran is a terrorist state. To answer your question more directly, yes I would.”

“Ms. Gomez, what say you?” O'Reilly asked quickly.

“Mr. O'Reilly, we must always keep every option on the table. However, we cannot sidestep diplomacy and we must ensure that we have exhausted all attempts at a peaceful solution.”

“So you would favor a military strike?” O'Reilly asked her directly.

“What I am saying is that we should never pigeonhole ourselves into one solution.”

“It's a simple yes-or-no question, Ms. Gomez,” O'Reilly shot back.

“Mr. O'Reilly, diplomacy is more dynamic than a simple yes-or-no answer,” Gomez challenged, looking agitated.

“I understand that, Ms. Gomez. Let me make the question clearer. If you exhausted all diplomacy and the intelligence stated that Iran would develop a weapon or was prepared to sell weapons-grade fuel to a known terrorist group that would use it as a dirty weapon, or even worse, they were to sell a nuclear weapon, would you support a military strike?”

“I think you have to define ‘exhausted all diplomacy,'” Rep. Gomez answered.

“Really? Really? Ms. Gomez, you can't answer that question?” O'Reilly pushed further, looking a bit disgusted.

Speaker Conner interrupted. “I can answer the question, Bill. Yes, I would strike them and strike them hard. Bill, Ms. Gomez is aware of the threats, the real threats that our country faces. She is in the briefings, she knows. But what do she and her colleagues do? They vote every time to weaken our defenses or to not fund projects that can harden our defenses.”

“Mr. Speaker, what is one threat that faces our nation that most Americans are not aware of?” O'Reilly asked, looking to wrap things up.

“What I fear the most is a rogue nation or terrorist group attacking us with an EMP or an electromagnetic-type weapon. We are not equipped for this; it would destroy our entire power grid. The Iranians, for one, have stated their awareness of this weakness and want to exploit it.”

“There you go again, Mr. Speaker, spreading fear,” Gomez disdainfully accused.

“Fear? Ms. Gomez, you have seen the reports regarding this specific threat. Even some in your own party realize the threat and have courageously put forth bills that never made it out of committee. I am now pressing Congressman Markey to put forth the same bill again. I will work hard to ensure the bill at least gets the up or down vote it deserves,” Conner spat back, obviously irritated.