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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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=====
Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac


		
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<1st attachment, "Desert 03.txt" begin>

Oscar Meyers 
Part 1: Foo Fighter
By 
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004

Chapter 3

Oscar had hidden the Hummer that morning about three hundred 
meters into a ravine and went to scout the area around it. When he 
had come around a boulder, he had spotted a guard on the 
mountain across from him. Squatting on a boulder, the guard 
watched the pass below and, fortunately, had not seen him. 

It had taken him the entire day to scout the area without the guard 
spotting him. With a smile, he knew that he had found the camp 
that represented his final destination. It was a small camp and 
appeared like it would be relatively easy to take out. Appearances 
could be deceiving. The men in the camp had that hard look that 
suggested they were battle hardened and wouldn't panic.

It was approaching sunset and he was sitting twenty meters away 
from the guard. He had stayed still and close to the ground, looking 
like a boulder amongst the rough terrain, for the past several hours. 
His ability to hide himself in the open was confirmed when the 
previous guard had walked within five feet of him when he had 
been relieved. Over the past three weeks, he had gained a lot of 
patience and could wait for hours without moving. Now, he waited 
for the sky to darken even more.

The sky slowly darkened, but the moon rose a quarter full. It was 
brighter than he wanted for tonight's operation, so he waited for the 
time to come when it would start to set before creeping up on the 
guard. He took him out with his usual efficiency before he moved 
to the location of the second guard. The muscles in his legs 
threatened to cramp from the long period of inactivity. It took him 
an hour to get close enough to take the second guard out. 

He moved into camp with his normal stealth. The tents from which 
snoring sounds were emitted were not of interest while tents that 
showed activity were too dangerous to explore. He went into a 
quiet tent and was surprised to find two men sleeping on cots. He 
quietly slipped out and went on his way. He finally found a supply 
tent, only to discover that it was very poorly stocked. He realized 
that meant these terrorists had seen action lately and would have to 
re-supply from one of the weapons caches soon. Perhaps they had 
already tried and died in the process. 

There were no explosives here for him to use and he was at a loss 
for a moment at what he should do. Making a quick decision, he 
picked up four RPG launchers and carried them to one of the guard 
positions. He returned for two boxes grenades and took a moment 
to fill his pockets with several clips of ammunition. Returning to 
the guard position, he set his rifle on the ground next to him and 
prepared the four RPG launchers with grenades.

He waited for dawn so that he would be able to see his targets. It 
wasn't easy to remain alert because of the number of hours that he 
had been awake. This was a very dangerous time. If a relief guard 
discovered the other body, then he would have to act immediately. 
When there was finally enough light to see, he aimed an RPG at 
the command tent. He fired and dropped the launcher only to pick 
up another RPG and fire at the supply tent. He watched as the 
grenade hit it and shook his head, as the explosion was 
disappointingly small. He fired another RPG at one of the tents 
where he was sure that men were sleeping and none had emerged. 

He picked up the rifle and began shooting everything that moved. 
He would fire three shots and then switch to another target. He 
kept it up until there was no more movement in the camp below. 
He stopped and changed his position moving carefully so that he 
could not be seen from the camp below. He found a position that 
had good cover and watched the camp. One of the terrorists 
crawled out of a tent. Oscar fired three shots at the man, stopping 
him with his body half out of the tent.  

He waited several hours more, watching for movement. He ate one 
of the Russian rations while waiting, amazed that he was able to 
swallow the horrible food. The camp below was still and lifeless 
while above, the vultures circled ever lower. He froze when he 
heard sounds approaching the camp. For a minute, he wondered if 
he had attacked a secondary camp rather than the main camp. He 
readied his gun for action. He still had one RPG left and could use 
that if necessary.

Ever since his encounter with the God, he had heard nothing 
except Arabic. The men coming were whispering commands in 
English and this presented him with an interesting dilemma that he 
had not considered. He wondered how he could establish his 
identity to soldiers walking nervously into the site of a destroyed 
terrorist camp without getting shot. They approached the camp, 
moving carefully, while he waited. He removed the cloak making 
his American uniform, such as it was, visible. 

Thirty men slowly crept into the camp observing the damage 
wrought by Oscar's attack. The man in charge had the men spread 
out to look for the possible causes. Quiet, Oscar watched as a man 
headed in his direction and was disappointed when he didn't 
recognize him. He set his gun down quietly and then called out, 
"Private First Class Oscar Meyers reporting for duty."

Every man in the camp turned in his direction with rifles pointed at 
him. He slowly stood up without his rifle. One of the men in camp 
shouted, "Oscar Meyers, what do we call you?"

Believing that he recognized the voice, Oscar frowned as he called 
back, "Foo!"

The man in the camp shouted up, "Get down here, Private Foo!"

Oscar climbed down from his position. He walked through the 
camp looking at the damage he had caused, he glanced at the man 
that had shouted. There was no doubt, he had been correct in 
identifying whom it had been. He walked up to the Sergeant and 
saluted. "Reporting for duty sir."

"We had you listed as MIA," barked the Sergeant.  He looked over 
Oscar, taking note of the short pants, ripped shirt, and dirty 
appearance. He asked, "Do you know what happened here?"

"Yes, Sergeant," replied Oscar. He relaxed a little as he looked 
around taking in the damage that he had caused. He said, "I took 
out the camp."

"Single-handedly?"

"Yes, Sergeant." Oscar, in a flash of insight, realized that he was 
no longer scared of the Sergeant. He relaxed and said, "I took four 
RPG launchers and some ammo. I sat up there and shot the 
command tent and the supply tent. I must say that I was rather 
disappointed at the results of hitting the supply tent. Usually, there 
is a much bigger explosion than that."

The Sergeant stared fixedly at Oscar for a minute. He barked, 
"Everyone, form up and let's get back to camp."

Oscar asked, "Do you mind if I get my Hummer?"

The Sergeant ordered, "Come with me and we'll pick it up later."

Oscar nodded and headed up the hill to where he had been. The 
Sergeant shouted, "Get back here, Foo."

Oscar ignored him as he went to where he had dropped his cloak. 
Bending down and picking up his cloak, he put it on before 
heading down the hill. He reached the Sergeant and said, "That's 
Private Oscar Meyers, Sergeant."

The Sergeant stared at Oscar and shook his head. He could see that 
the man had changed in some significant way. It was hard to 
believe that Oscar had gone up the hill and back without tripping. 
There had been none of his normal accidents, he spoke with 
assurance, and looked him in the eye. He ordered, "Come with us, 
Private."

Oscar shrugged and replied, "Yes, Sergeant. I might add that I 
have video tapes of the people killed in about six terrorist camps 
and the laptop computers from those same camps. The only one 
that I didn't get any data on was the site where some poison gas 
was stored."

The Sergeant froze in mid-step at the news that Oscar was 
claiming that he had destroyed the camp where the WMD had been 
stored. He turned in slow motion and asked, "You were the one 
that blew up the WMD site in Iran?"

"I have no idea where it was located. There weren't any national 
boundaries on my map. I just followed the directions there and 
took it out."

The Sergeant called to one of the other men in the squad, 
"Peterson, take the squad back to camp."

Peterson replied, "yes, Sergeant."

"Take me to your Hummer."

The Sergeant followed Oscar as he moved across the rugged 
terrain. Much to his surprise, he was having a hard time keeping up 
with the sure-footed private. Oscar had to stop several times to 
wait for him to catch up. They had just reached a spot overlooking 
the Hummer when Oscar said, "Hold on. We need to get down."

The Sergeant lowered himself to the ground. The rocks pressed 
unpleasantly against his buttocks. He looked around and didn't see 
anything. He looked over at Oscar who was staring at the horizon. 
Even as close as they were, he realized that Oscar was almost 
invisible among the rocks. Oscar said, "There are three trucks over 
there coming from a terrorist camp that's located about twenty 
klicks to the east. They are either heading here, in which case we 
need to get ready for a fight or they are heading to a weapons 
cache."

As the Sergeant reached for his radio he said, "I'll call in 
supporting aircraft."

Oscar, holding up a hand, interrupted, "We only need to do that if 
they head this way."

"Why?" asked the Sergeant. He was finding the new Oscar rather 
difficult. The man was on top of the situation like a real veteran. It 
appeared to him that Oscar knew more about desert warfare than 
any of the other men in the unit knew. He observed things and 
acted immediately on those observations. The dust plumes were 
still very small specks on the horizon. He found himself talking to 
Oscar like a peer rather than as a Sergeant to a Private.

"They'll all die if they go to the weapons cache." Oliver watched 
the dust plumes with total focus. He smiled when he realized that 
they were heading to the weapons cache. He sat back and said, 
"Watch what happens now."

The Sergeant looked at Oscar in disbelief. He turned to watch the 
dust plumes. They slowly dissipated. About a minute later, a huge 
plume of dust rose in the air. He could hear the distant explosion as 
a very small pop. Oscar turned to him and said, "Very nice. I 
booby trapped it two days ago. Looks like I did a good job."

The Sergeant nodded as he watched the dust rise higher in the air. 
It had been a major explosion and he was impressed as he said, 
"Yes, it does."

Oscar stood and headed to the Hummer. When he reached it, he 
opened the passenger side door to remove the stuff on the seat and 
put it in the back seat. The Sergeant watched as Oscar pulled out 
an RPG launcher with a grenade and another rifle. When the 
Sergeant came over, Oscar explained, "Sorry, I didn't expect to 
have any passengers."

The Sergeant examined the back of the Hummer and whistled. He 
said, "You've got an arsenal in there."

Oscar shrugged and replied, "I've been borrowing weapons from 
the enemy. Can't ever have too much except when it is more than 
you can carry. Funny how excited they get when I return them."

The Sergeant nodded at the black humor and then caught his first 
full whiff of Oscar. The man stunk to high heaven and he said, 
"You need to take a shower man."

Oscar laughed and said, "I know, I smell like those guys laying on 
the ground back there. I need to change out of this uniform. I've 
been living it ever since I was separated from my unit. I also need 
to eat something. I've been living off Russian rations and they 
really suck."

The Sergeant thought about what Oscar must have been through 
over the past month. "When we get back to camp, we can arrange 
all of that."

Oscar replied, "Thank you, Sergeant."

Oscar drove to camp following the directions provided by the 
Sergeant. It wasn't that long of a trip since he was able to drive 
directly there. He did think that the Sergeant was about to get sick 
because of his odor. All of the windows that hadn't been shot out 
were down to get fresh air into the truck. 

He pulled into camp and exited from the Hummer, stretching as he 
looked around at all of the people in his unit. He looked at each 
person and realized that they didn't intimidate him any more. The 
camp was huge with a mess tent and a supply tent. His eyes 
automatically searched out ways that the camp could be attacked. 

The Sergeant looked around and pointed out a tent. He said, 
"There's a spare bed in there."

Oscar nodded and said, "I'm afraid that all of my gear was lost. It 
was blown up in my first engagement."

The Sergeant said, "Get to supply tent and get what you need from 
the Sergeant there. Then get washed and fed. I'll be in the Colonel's 
office briefing him."

Oscar opened a door of the Hummer and reached in. He pulled out 
a stack of laptops and the video camera. He handed them to the 
Sergeant and said, "Here's the intelligence that I've gathered."

Oscar headed off to the supply tent to get a fresh uniform and other 
supplies. He entered and strode up to the Supply Sergeant. The 
man took one whiff of him and handed him a clean uniform. He 
said, "Get clean, then come back here."

Oscar turned and left the supply tent with a clean uniform. He 
walked around looking for the showers. He finally stopped 
someone and asked, "Where are the showers?"

The other private pointed to a tent and said, "On the other side of 
that tent."

Oscar walked to the other side of the tent; smelling the water in the 
air he was able to go directly to the tent with the showers. Walking 
in, he smiled at the thought of being clean for the first time in a 
long time. He stripped and turned on the water making sure that it 
was hot. In minutes, the floor beneath him was running with mud. 
He looked down at the floor, surprised that all of that dirt had come 
off him. He also noticed his cock for the first time, staring at it for 
a second shocked by the size of it. He told the wall, "The women 
are going to love that."

He lathered up and washed his hair. He had a thick growth of 
beard, but didn't have a razor on hand. The fact that the water ran 
gray when he rinsed forced him to wash a second time checking to 
make sure the water ran clear when he was done. Finished with his 
shower, he took a few minutes to stand under the hot water 
enjoying the feeling of it running over his body. Finally, shutting 
the water off and stepping out of the stall, he dried himself with a 
towel and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look any 
different other than the beard and unruly hair, but he felt different. 

Dressing in the new uniform, he put on the cloak and picked up the 
old uniform. He went to the tent the Sergeant had pointed out and 
put the uniform at the foot of the bed. He'd find out what to do 
with it later. He searched the pockets of the old uniform and put 
the items in his new uniform. It was only when he pulled out the 
map that he realized he had forgotten to give it to the Sergeant. 

It was lunchtime by the time he exited his tent. He went into the 
mess hall and joined the end of the line. Most people didn't even 
take notice of him; he was just another private waiting for lunch. 
The line progressed fairly quickly and he eyed the food 
ravenously. Too long of a time spent living off Russian rations was 
about to end with a feast.

Oscar was still pretty far back in the line when two men in Special 
Forces uniforms came into the mess hall. They pushed their way 
into the middle of the line, intimidating the regular forces. 
Infuriated, Oscar stepped out of line and went to them. Despite the 
fact that they outranked him, he ordered, "Apologize to everyone 
here and then get in the back of the line."

The two men looked down at him and laughed. One of them asked, 
"What are you going to do about it?"

Oscar looked up at the man and stared him straight in the eye. In 
an even tone of voice that showed no fear, he answered, "I'll cut 
your balls off and fry them for my lunch."

The other people in line started backing away. Both men towered 
over Oscar and tried to look intimidating, but with no luck. The 
one he had answered looked down at him with anger flashing in his 
eyes. He said, "I'd like to see you do that."

Oscar turned and headed towards the door. A number of people 
breathed a sigh of relief until he called out, "Come on, mister 
tough guy. Let's see if you can push me around."

The two men followed him out of the mess tent. Oscar turned and 
faced them. He was calm and relaxed. One of the big guys said, 
"Come on. You don't expect us to fight you. You're a shrimp."

The other taunted, "Why don't you run home to mother now?"

Voice even and filled with steel, Oscar replied, "The strong are 
supposed to protect the weak, not push them around. If you 
apologize to everyone in the tent, I'll let you go."

"I'm not apologizing to anyone!"

Oscar spun and kicked him across the face. He returned to his 
original stance looking at the two men. They charged and the fight 
heated up. A large crowd gathered around to watch as the fight 
continued long beyond what anyone believed possible considering 
the difference in size of the combatants and that the smaller man 
was out numbered. 

The commotion was enough to bring Oscar's Sergeant and the 
Colonel from the command tent. The Colonel stopped the Sergeant 
from breaking up the fight as he watched Oscar dance around and 
strike the special services guys at will. He took a few hits, but they 
didn't slow him down. The Colonel turned to the Sergeant and 
asked, "Isn't that Foo?"

The Sergeant watched open mouthed as Oscar took down one of 
the special service guys with a leg sweep. He answered, "Yes, sir. 
That is Foo. We found him at the camp that I was telling you 
about."

"He's become quite a fighter."

"Yes, sir," replied the Sergeant. He looked at Oscar and said, 
"Something happened to him out there. He's not the same Private 
Meyers that got separated from his unit."

The Colonel said, "I once saw an exhibition with that fighting 
style. He's using a form of Brazilian Martial Arts. Those two guys 
he's fighting have never experienced anything like it."

They watched the fight progress. It suddenly ended when Oscar 
got both men on the ground. He pulled their own knives and held 
them to their throats. In a very calm voice he stated, "Apologize to 
everyone."

The two men swallowed and said, "I'm sorry for cutting in line."

Oscar smoothly stood up and threw the knives to the ground. The 
points of both knives were buried in the dirt. Taking a deep breath 
and turning to the crowd, he said, "The excitement is over."

As crowd of people broke up, Oscar reached down and helped the 
two men up. Nodding at them, he turned and went into the mess 
hall. A line had already formed and he returned to the end of the 
line where he waited patiently despite the stares he received from 
others. The person in front of him, nervously offered, "Would you 
like to go ahead of me?"

Oscar smiled and shook his head, as he answered, "No. Thank you 
for offering though."

The two men he had fought returned to the mess hall and went to 
the end of the line. He nodded at them and returned to waiting his 
turn. The guy in front said, "That was pretty amazing what you did. 
I was sure that you were going to get clobbered."

Relaxed now that the fight was over, Oscar laughed and answered, 
"So did I."

He went through the line looking at the hot food with delight. 
More than a month without a hot meal was too long of a time. He 
told them to load up his plate. They either took note of the events 
outside or they could see how hungry he was, but the result was 
that they piled the food on his plate. At the beverage station, he 
grabbed a cup of coffee and a glass of iced tea. 

He carried his tray over to an empty table and set it down. Hardly 
able to refrain from thrusting his head into the food, he sat down 
and looked over the meal. He picked up the iced tea and drank half 
of it down. The cold liquid did more to make him feel like he had 
rejoined civilization than the shower. He hardly knew where to 
begin eating. Closing his eyes, he set the fork onto the plate. It was 
over the green beans, so he started there. When the two special 
service guys came over to the table, one of them asked, "Do you 
mind if we join you?"

"Please, have a seat," replied Oscar. He moved his left hand out of 
the pocket of his cloak where it had been resting on his pistol.

They sat down across from him, looking at his plate and seeing his 
obvious enjoyment of the food. They took in his beard and shaggy 
hair. One of them said, "You eat like you've been out in the field 
for a while. Have you been out long?"

Oscar thought about it, not knowing if almost a month in the field 
constituted a long time, but he answered, "Yes, I have."

The other asked, "Seen any action?"

"Some," replied Oscar. He was sure that what he had done would 
be considered a lot, but didn't want to boast. 

The first one who had spoken said, "I'm Tom Greelley and this is 
George Rocha."

Oscar extended a hand saying, "I'm Oscar Meyers."

The two men looked at each other for a second and then shook his 
head. The men in their unit wouldn't believe they had been beat by 
someone named Oscar Meyers. There was only one thing for them 
to do. Tom asked, "You ever consider joining the special forces?"

Oscar laughed and answered, "Until a month ago, you guys 
wouldn't have been interested in having me."

The two men looked at each other in confusion by his answer. This 
guy had beaten two highly trained fighters and had not worked up 
a sweat. They shrugged and started to eat their food. When they 
were nearly done eating, George looked at Oscar and said, "I've 
never seen that fighting style you used on us. What is it?"

Oscar thought about it for a moment and then answered, "I don't 
know exactly."

Tom asked, "Where did you learn it?"

Oscar looked at both of them seriously for a second. He answered, 
"It's just how I fight. I didn't learn it anywhere."

Tom said, "Well, I guess we'll have to believe you. Anyway, you 
may want to look into joining us. We can use people that can fight 
like you."

Taking their offer with the seriousness that it deserved, Oscar 
nodded and said, "I'll think about it."

The two men left while he was enjoying his coffee. The hot 
beverage tasted great after a long bout of drinking tepid water. 
Three members of his unit sat down at the table. One of them 
asked, "Foo, what happened to you?'

With eyes narrowed, Oscar looked up at him and replied, "Don't 
call me Foo, call me Oscar."

The guy was about to make a comment, but a nudge in his side 
reminded him of what he had seen outside. He definitely did not 
want Oscar to force the issue. He said, "Okay, Oscar. What 
happened to you?"

Oscar frowned and thought about what had happened. He wasn't 
sure if he was supposed to talk about it until after he was debriefed. 
He answered, "I can't talk about it now."

"You aren't the same guy that was here earlier."

"I can't talk about it."

The men in his unit stared at Oscar, shocked at the change in him. 
They slowly stood and moved away from the table. He watched 
them go, sad that he couldn't explain what had happened. He didn't 
want to talk about meeting the God and didn't feel like he could tell 
them about his actions in the field. 

He picked up his tray looking at the empty plate on it. He couldn't 
believe how much he had eaten. He carried his tray to the proper 
place to drop it off and looked around the room. As his gaze swept 
the room, people looked away with embarrassment at having been 
caught staring. Somehow, he had changed from being a figure of 
disdain to one that was feared.

He headed to the command tent to meet with the Sergeant and the 
Colonel, intending to get the rest of his gear after meeting with 
them. After entering the tent and waiting to be acknowledged, the 
Colonel turned and looked at him for a full minute. Oscar came to 
attention. After a minute the Colonel said, "Come with me Private 
Meyers."

"Yes, sir." He followed the Colonel into a private part of the tent. 
He stood at attention while the Colonel sat at a table. 

The Colonel pointed to a chair and said, "Sit."

Oscar sat in the chair that had been offered to him. Uneasy at being 
there alone, he looked at the Colonel as he said, "Sir, I thought that 
Sergeant Wilson was to be here."

"Oscar, this is over his head. I need you to tell me exactly what 
happened."

Oscar sat back and wondered how to start. He cleared his throat 
and said, "I don't know where to start."

The Colonel sat back and suggested, "Start with the morning 
before you left camp with the caravan. There are some details that 
need to be cleared up about that morning."

Oscar blushed in embarrassment and then said, "well, that morning 
I had taken two doses of laxative thinking it was something to calm 
my stomach. By the time we left camp, I couldn't go for more than 
twenty minutes without have to go. Oh, it was miserable. After the 
third or fourth stop, the rest of the unit went on without me."

"Why were you alone in the Hummer?"

"The rest of the guys in the unit were afraid to be around me with a 
loaded gun."

The Colonel laughed and said, "I remember the very first day you 
joined my command. You spilled your tray all over me. If I 
remember correctly, you did that several times after that, too. I 
guess I can understand why the fellows in your unit wouldn't want 
to be around you with a loaded gun."

"Yes, sir."

The Colonel said, "I just want to make sure that we are in 
agreement about the kind of soldier you were up to that morning."

"I guess you might say that I was a Fuck Up. That's how I got the 
nickname Foo," Oscar looked at the Colonel directly when he said 
that.

The Colonel replied, "I think the operative expression is that you 
were a Fuck Up. There is no might about it."

"Yes sir."

"So you are left behind as you are suffering from the consequences 
of your accident with the laxatives. What happened next?"

Oscar took a deep breath and answered, "While I was there I saw 
some white trucks moving across the desert and get onto the road 
behind the convoy. I finished my business among the rocks and got 
into my Hummer. I was racing along hoping to catch up. Suddenly 
I find all those white trucks coming at me. Bullet holes started 
showing up in my windshield."

The Colonel made a gesture for him to continue. Oscar licked his 
lips and said, "Well, I turned around and tried to put some distance 
between them and me. They were shooting at me and I couldn't 
return fire. I finally stopped the Hummer and went for cover. After 
a very short firefight, I was out of ammunition."

The Colonel leaned forward putting his elbows on the table. He put 
the fist on one hand in the palm of the other and rested his chin on 
his hands, watching Oscar very intently. The story, in an odd way, 
was fascinating. Oscar continued, "I was quickly becoming 
surrounded and was without ammunition. Behind me was the 
desert and there was no place to hide. About that time I noticed 
that there was a huge dust devil coming towards me. I don't know 
why, but I ran into it."

The Colonel sat back in amazement. He said, "You escaped by 
running into a dust devil?"

"Yes sir."

Astounded, the Colonel returned to his original position. He asked, 
"What happened next?"

Oscar thought about how to answer that question for a long time. 
Finally, he said, "I renewed my vows to the Gods and Goddesses 
of my religion that I would serve them to the best of my abilities. 
The God answered me."

The Colonel sat back for a moment and opened the folder on the 
table. He looked it over and then looked up in surprise. Just to 
confirm what he had read, he asked, "You are pagan?"

"Yes, sir."

The Colonel nodded his head as he started to realize where the 
story might lead. He stated, "That explains much. Did they give 
you anything?"

Oscar hesitated, unwilling to discuss the medallion, and then 
answered, "Yes sir."

"Continue telling me your experiences."

Oscar took a deep breath and stated, "I have no idea how much 
time passed between entering the dust devil and waking outside a 
hut. The man inside the hut gave me this cloak. He said that it 
would help hide me in the desert."

"He spoke to you in English?"

"No. He spoke Arabic. I now can speak Arabic and Farzi."

The Colonel returned to his forward position as Oscar continued, 
"Well, I left there with nothing except the cloak and the items in 
my pocket. I walked across the desert for a day until I found a well. 
I spent the night in the rocks above the well. The next day some 
men came to the well. I overheard them talking about the attack on 
the caravan and this lowly dog they chased into a dust devil. Of 
course, they were referring to me."

"Rather than kill them there, I followed them back to their camp. 
That night I raided their supply tent and used their own explosives 
against them. In five minutes it was all over. I went through the 
camp and retrieved the Hummer and stocked up on supplies. I 
found a video camera and taped the people that I killed in that 
raid."

The Colonel had watched the tape. It was shocking the number of 
high level terrorists that Oscar had killed. He said, "I watched the 
video tape."

Oscar reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the map. He 
handed it to the Colonel. He said, "I also found this map. Once I 
figured out what it meant, I knew that it gave the positions of the 
camps, wells, and weapons caches. I had no idea where I was, but I 
did figure out that if I worked my way to a terrorist camp in the 
area where my unit had been dispatched, that I could rejoin it."

"Good thinking."

Oscar smiled and continued, "I didn't think it wise for me to go 
directly to the camp. I wanted it to look like I was moving around 
randomly. I booby trapped the weapons caches as I went. I 
attacked every camp along the route that I had selected. I did take 
one detour to a camp that was the southernmost one on the map."

Sitting up straight, the Colonel focused all of his attention on 
Oscar. His gaze was piercing as he commanded, "Tell me about 
that camp."

Oscar nodded, understanding why the Colonel would want to know 
more about the raid on that camp. He said, "It was the biggest 
camp I encountered. There weren't tents; they actually had 
buildings. There must have been two hundred or more men there. 
There was no way that I was going to be able to take it out in my 
normal procedure. I set up about five locations with RPGs and 
rifles with extra ammunition. I watched until I was sure I knew 
where the command building and the supply building were located. 
I fired RPGs at those locations first. All hell broke loose. I shot the 
rest of the RPGs at clusters of men and barrels of gasoline. Then I 
picked up the gun and fired every round that I had. I moved over to 
the next place and fired an RPG in a building that no one had left. I 
figured it stored more ammunition. Well, instead of a big bang, 
there was this huge white cloud that came boiling out of it."

The Colonel nodded at the confirmation of the intelligence reports 
that he had heard. Gesturing with his hand, he said, "Go on."

"The men in the camp started dropping like flies. I saw that and 
ran. I ran to my Hummer and drove away like mad. I was scared to 
death that it was poison. That was basically it."

The Colonel said, "You then went on to make several more attacks 
on camps."

"Yes sir. The one this morning is the one that I had been heading 
for the entire time."

The Colonel sat back and held up a hand. He considered the 
situation very carefully. He finally said, "The only raid that you 
performed that was in Afghanistan was the one this morning. It is 
only just inside Afghanistan. The rest of them took place inside 
northern Iran and Southern Pakistan."

Oscar thought about it for a minute and then asked, "Am I in 
trouble?"

"No, we denied all involvement. We will continue to deny that by 
stating that some unknown party has declared a private war on the 
terrorists and that the US Government had no role in the actions."

Oscar smiled and said, "Might as well give that same unknown 
party credit for the camp this morning."

The Colonel laughed and said, "Of course we will. In the mean 
time, you are to be sent to Germany for debriefing by army 
intelligence."

"When do I leave?" asked Oscar wondering if he would get a 
chance to sleep. It had been a long day and it was only mid-
morning.

The Colonel stood and handed the map back to Oscar. He said, 
"you leave now. Your tapes and computers are on a helicopter 
that's waiting for you. Take this map with you."
<1st attachment end>


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