Charlotte Chronicles XXXVIII
July 24, 2014 | 
Charlotte Chronicles | 
(5)
Nathan
The operation to rescue the wealthy American couple is green lighted. It’s almost a relief to concentrate on something else other than Charlie and that dead motherfucker Reese. In fact, as we practice our extraction moves over and over, there isn’t room to think of anything other than where I’ll be, the positioning of my teammates, when we take the shot, infiltrate the ship, rescue the hostages. But all too soon the op is over and we are riding in the helo back to land where we’ll catch a flight on the oh so comfortable C5 Galaxy back to San Diego.
While everyone else around me was sacked out like good little seamen, lying on a crate or propped up against a pallet using their rucksacks as pillows, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my Charlotte being molested by some asshole named Reese. When I got back to land, I was going to need a leave of absence. Three or four days is all I would need to find out everything about this Reese dude and destroy him. Then I’d…my plans fell apart there. Mostly I thought I’d pick up Charlotte, shove her in my rental and bring her back to San Diego with me. I’d put her in my bed and wouldn’t let her leave until she admitted she still loved me.
Daniel Sykes, the CO of my SEAL Team Nine, must notice my agitation because he gets up from his cozy bed of wood, metal, and rough cloth to come sit next to me. “When I was a Petty Officer Second Class, my girlfriend who I’d dated since the ninth grade broke up with me because she was in love with her lab partner, Darryl. Maybe his name was Dennis. I decided that Dennis could go to hell and that Alyson was missing me. So I fly home after a two month mission and head straight for her apartment. Alyson was entertaining the asshole. There was some shouting. Some tears. I punched him out. And if it wasn’t for the fact that she had some feeling left for me, old Dennis might have called the police and then my CO would be called and I’d have gotten kicked off the teams.”
“LT, you know I’m not going to do anything that would dishonor the Teams,” I assure him. But I knew how to play this game. We’d gotten into plenty of trouble off base in the past but so long as no local law enforcement had to be called, it was all good. My destruction of Reese would be silent and deadly. The law enforcement wouldn’t even know I was in town.
“I’m merely saying I recognize that look on your face. Probably everyone of us has worn it at one time or another. Don’t let your heart lead you into trouble. I’d hate for you to end up having a black mark on what has otherwise been a stellar career. You given any thought to OTS? You’d be a good mustang.”
Mustangs were enlisted who went to Officer Training School or OTS and made the jump from enlisted to officer. As an officer you got paid more and you had more responsibility. I didn’t really care for either. I liked being enlisted. It’s where work got done not that I didn’t admire the shit out of LT Sykes, but I didn’t want to deal with his headaches either.
Plus, enlisted men are more fun to hang around and even though rank is pretty fluid on the Teams, when we’re out of the theatre and back at base, there are definite lines of separation.
“I’ll think about it sir,” I hedge but LT has known me long enough and is smart enough to read my hesitation.
“You do that.” He stands. “And get some sleep. That’s an order.”
I force myself to sleep by mentally assembling and reassembling my gun and then pointing it. I wake up to Petty Officer Second Class Tom Cheung describing his next door neighbor. “Girl is so stacked I don’t know how she is able to walk upright.”
“You offer to help her like a gentleman right?” laughs Senior Chief Michael Hale.
“Course I do. I say Miss Emily, why don’t you take my arm and press your precious titty against my biceps while I walk you to your car.”
“That’s real courtly of you, Bride.” Everyone calls Cheung Bride because one night during a training op, he’d somehow got his sheet tucked into his shorts and it trailed behind him like a goddamned train on a wedding gown.
“She let you stick your face in those tatas?” Ensign Ryan Elison pipes up. Elison’s so new he squeaks when he walks. He’s eager to please and desperately wants to fit in but he’s replacing a guy that we all really liked who’d bitten it on a fucking up training mission. None of us hold it against Elison, but even he knows that immediate acceptance isn’t going to come.
“Ensign Elison, this is a delicate mission. A man only gets a few chances in his life to see a rack this spectacular. I’m not going to rush it.”
“You’ve been gone for two months,” Chief Petty Officer Rick Gonzales interjects. “She’s probably moved.”
“Am I a SEAL?” Bride asks. It’s a rhetorical question. “Do I not know how to plan, execute said plan, and then achieve my objective?”
“I thought I was in charge of planning,” LT says wryly and we all laugh when Bride flicks him off.
“What’re you doing when you get back Gonzo?” Bride asks
“I’m going to see if sweet honey over in Oceanside still has room in her bed for me. Her going away blow job was stellar. I need to measure it against her welcome home one.”
“And if the going away one is better?” Ensign Elison asks.
“Shit, sir, then I’ll get a going away one which I’ve already told you was Spec-fucking-tacular. I’ll get gone with a smile on my face. Even a bad blow job is just fine.”
“What about you Jackson?” Elison asks.
“I’m going to propose,” I say. It pops out but it sounds right.
“Shit didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
“It’s the letter girl, right?” Bride offers.
“Who’s the letter girl?” asks Elison. He doesn’t know my history with Charlotte unlike Cabby who’s been with me through BUD/s, the Naval school where they try to sort out the SEALs from the wannabes by trying to kill you every day. Cabby who’s been silent this whole time looks at me like I’m half out of my mind. And I am. No question. I won’t ever be right again if I don’t get Charlotte back.
With a sigh he turns away and redirects attention at Elison. “Ensign we need to give you a nickname.”
Elison sits up straighter. A nickname means he belong
“I’m leaning toward Howdy Doody,” I offer.
“Fuck you, Jackson,” he retorts which is good. We don’t want a mealy mouthbreather serving with us.
“He doesn’t do that,” Bride laughs.
Elison immediately colors and stammers out an apology. “I-I-I didn’t mean it like that. And if you are gay, I’m okay with that. Not that you have to tell me. It wasn’t an advance. I wasn’t coming on to you.”
This makes Bride laugh all the more. “Don’t you know why we call Jackson Monk, Howdy?”
It was his blushing that made the nickname stick and as Elison’s face falls in dismay, he mutters a little sullenly, “no.”
“Because in all the time he’s been on the Teams, he’s never touched a person. Not a guy or a girl, isn’t that right, Monk?” Bride says. He used to sneer it but after a few fists in the face and then a lot of liquor afterwards, we’d come to an understanding. We didn’t talk about my sex life…until now I guess. I let it go because he wasn’t wrong.
I’d had plenty of opportunity. Every SEAL does. There’s always someone out there who wants to say they banged an elite warrior and many who look at us as tickets out of whatever poor circumstances they’re in only to find that it was better to be single than tied to a guy who was gone half the year on secretive missions that they could never talk about. A guy who spent more time with his SEAL team members than his own family. Lots of women got sick and tired of that quick.
I’d tried a few times. I’d followed a few women to their homes or apartments or hotel rooms but ultimately I’d left them dissatisfied and angry. As for me, each time renewed my belief that celibacy was my punishment. I’d turned my back on Charlotte. My inability to follow through with any other woman has to do with the fact that while I was able to walk away from her, every part of me including my stupid cock still believes we belong to Charlotte Randolph.
“Is it the letter girl?” Elison is the only one brave enough to ask. He doesn’t know better but I don’t care–not at this point.
“It’s the letter girl,” I affirm.
“Will she say yes?”
“Am I not a SEAL that knows how to plan, execute said plan, and achieve my objective?” I mock but my anger is self directed.
Elison nods his head. Truthfully, I think she’ll say no but I’d keep asking until I was too old to form words and my body was dust.
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1 chapter at a time is killing me!! I am so stoked for the up coming chapters
Super fun to write them as adults!
this is torture but I love it
I wish I could write faster.
This is such a great read. I look forward to next segment.