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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-06.txt" begin>

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

Chapter 6

A naked Oscar stepped out of the bedroom and stopped as he 
stretched feeling the muscles tighten and then relax. He was 
feeling exceptionally good that morning. Last night Jennifer had 
been a wild woman, claiming that it was a goodbye fling. She had 
worn him out with her sexual energy and he had slept very well. 
Georgia, seated on the couch, watched him with a feral intensity as 
he stepped into the living room. Her eyes drank in his body and her 
body tingled in its desire for him. 

He sat down on a chair across from her. His eyes flicked across her 
naked body, appreciating the view. She was a smaller version of 
her sister. Her breasts looked bigger, even though they were 
smaller than her sister's breasts. The smaller frame of her body 
gave that impression. Her nipples were erect, despite the fact that it 
didn't seem that cold in the room to him. He wondered if she was 
sexually excited. His cock started to respond, but he pushed away 
the thought. He said, "I would like it if you could join me at the 
training facility."

Thoughts that she had not entertained for a long time went through 
her head. She had noticed the beginning of his erection. Her eyes 
flew from his cock to his face in surprise at his suggestion. She 
asked, "What do you mean?"

His eyes rested on her face and answered, "You fight like I do and 
you know as much about the training program as I do. You helped 
create it and I need you to help me. I hope you can join me."

She looked at the floor for several minutes before softly answering, 
"I would like that, but...."

He waited for her to continue as she stared off into space for a 
moment. It had been a slim hope that she would join him, but her 
hesitancy suggested that she wouldn't. Disappointed at her lack of 
enthusiasm, he said, "I understand. You have other 
responsibilities."

She looked up at him, her lower lip quivering, as she said, "I want 
more from you than that."

She looked upset. Wanting to comfort her, he gracefully rose from 
his chair and moved to the couch settling down beside her. Putting 
an arm around her, he pulled her close to him. It was incredible 
how good it felt to hold her like that. Tenderly, he looked into her 
eyes and said, "Tell me what you want and it is yours."

Her eyes searched his, seeking any guile or deception. She felt that 
if he truly liked her then his body would be responding to her 
presence. Yet, he sat there flaccid and apparently physically 
uninterested in her. She wondered if he couldn't see her need. She 
feared that if he was to see it, that he would take advantage of her. 
Years of pursuit by mindless males had built huge walls of distrust 
of masculine sexual drives. She hesitantly said, "I don't know if I 
can tell you."

He was about to respond when Jennifer came out of the bedroom. 
She smiled as she saw the couple sitting together on the couch with 
his arm around her sister in a clearly protective gesture while her 
sister was looking at him with desire. She didn't realize that she 
was interrupting a private moment that had only begun to blossom. 
Looking at them with a smile, she said, "It's about time you two 
lovebirds connected. I've been waiting all week for this to happen."

Oscar looked at her with surprise written on his face. He felt a 
significant emotional attachment to Georgia, but hadn't realized 
that it was obvious to anyone. He didn't know if it was love, but he 
did know that he enjoyed being around her tremendously and the 
house seemed empty when she was not there. They had spent 
almost every free minute together. She had helped him flesh out 
his training program. 

Georgia looked at him out of the corner of her eye, afraid of what 
she might see. She feared that he didn't really care about her. She 
finally blurted out, "He's asked me to go with him to Afghanistan."

Jennifer, still not picking up on the underlying tension, assumed 
that they had already been to bed together. She replied, "I was 
getting worried that he was going to leave without you making a 
move on him. So now that you know how he is in bed, you can go 
with him. Clearly he isn't a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy."

Blushing brightly, Oscar said, "I'm afraid that we haven't been to 
bed. I'm waiting for her to be ready for it. I asked her to come with 
me because ..."

Jennifer covered her mouth with her hand in dismay. For the past 
week, she had watched them work, play, and talk with each other. 
They complemented each other. If she was asked, she would have 
to say that she was jealous of her sister. Not because of Oscar, but 
because her sister had found such pleasure with him. She said, 
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize."

Georgia could hardly believe her ears. He wanted her and was 
waiting for her to act. No one had ever displayed such self control 
on her behalf. She couldn't believe it and asked for confirmation, 
"You've been waiting for me to ask you?"

Oscar looked into her eyes and said, "Of course, I want to you be 
ready and willing to accept me into your life."

"You want me in your life?" She looked into his eyes, hoping 
against hope that he meant what he had just said. He wanted her in 
his life; his words echoed in her mind. 

Oscar took her hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed it gently 
and then answered, "Very much."

She looked at her sister and realized that she suddenly wanted to be 
alone with Oscar more than anything. She stood, holding his hand, 
and said, "Come with me."

Oscar followed her to her bedroom. Jennifer watched them leave 
the room. Oscar's cock reacted to the promise that the moment 
held, swelling with each step. Aloud, to no one in particular, she 
said, "Thank the Gods and Goddesses. It's taken them long 
enough."

Georgia settled onto the bed and lay back pulling Oscar down to 
her. He moved beside her and started kissing her. He could tell that 
she had different needs than her sister. She needed to submit, but 
only to a certain point at which she would then need to take charge. 
He kissed her, trailing kisses along her neck, behind her ears, and 
moving slowly to her breasts. Taking his time, he enjoyed the 
flavor of this woman. Her skin, speckled here and there with 
freckles and imperfections that all bodies have, was unexplored 
territory. He enjoyed his explorations as much as she enjoyed the 
sensations it provided her.

As her excitement grew, so did her aggression. She would move 
under him trying to get him to pay attention to one place more than 
another. Excited, she forced his head between her legs, spreading 
them to make access to her womanhood easier. The rich aroma of 
her juices excited him. The smell differed significantly from her 
sister's. He licked her juices amazed at the quantity that she 
produced. He knew that she was ready to take charge when she 
started directing his head from place to place by pulling on his 
hair.

He moved up her body so that he was laying on her. Grabbing her, 
he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She was now above 
him and in control. She didn't waste a minute before she had 
mounted his cock. She worked herself up and down his cock, 
hoping that it would drive her to a release. History argued against 
it since she had never had release from sex with a partner, usually 
having to settle for her own hand to bring her off.

She changed her movements to small circular rolls of her hips. 
That hit the right spot and her climax rushed over her, surprising 
them both. For her, she had been frustrated as she tried to push 
herself over the edge. Then, in space of two seconds, it seemed that 
all frustration evaporated and her mind and body exploded with 
pleasure. For him, she was just moving fluidly and then her entire 
body went rigid. The blush that spread across her entire body was 
enough to send him over the edge. 

She fell across his body, hugging him and weeping gently. He 
didn't understand the tears, but understood her need to be held. He 
put his arms around her and held her closer while she remained 
impaled on his cock. The lack of movement didn't create the kind 
of pain that he was used to experiencing after orgasm. The warm 
envelopment of her cunt around his cock, kept him erect. His need 
for her grew as they held each other. For the first time, the act of 
coupling stopped being sex and became loving. The transition was 
subtle, but both felt it.

His hips rose off the bed in little movements that excited them 
both. Her clit was pressed against him and each little motion 
seemed to cause a jolt of electricity to flow from her clit to her 
breasts and finally to her brain. The tightness of her cunt rubbed 
the ridge of the head of his cock. The sensation was extremely 
satisfying. He flexed his cock inside her and they both jumped at 
the sensation. Her breath became ragged. She was building to 
another orgasm as was he. She pushed against his hips as they rose 
off the bed. 

They lay like that, slowly working up to a release. The first five 
minutes were pleasant. The second five minutes was phenomenal. 
At thirty minutes, the feelings they shared were so intense that 
neither of them would ever be able to describe it. The orgasm, 
when it finally came, was shattering. A spiritual bond was forged 
between them. They both wept like babies as they recovered from 
the effects of the orgasm.

Oscar stood at the door looking at Georgia. It was clear to anyone 
that saw him that he didn't want to leave. She would be joining him 
in a month, but even stepping out of the house seemed impossible. 
Jennifer watched the lovers as they looked into each other's eyes 
and she shook her head at the sight. Oscar looked like a lovesick 
puppy and she didn't even want to think what her sister looked like. 
Finally, she had enough and said, "It is time for you to get to the 
plane. They aren't going to hold it for you."

Oscar, wearing his red robe, followed her to the car. People 
stopped to look at the pair as they walked with cat-like grace to the 
car. They got into the car and left for the airport, unconcerned 
about the effect they had on the people around them. 

It was only a twenty-minute drive across the base to the airfield 
and they made good time in getting there. The security gate at the 
airfield took less than two minutes to get through. The guard had 
snapped to attention when they had pulled up in her car. Jennifer 
laughed as she said, "It never ceases to amaze me at how quickly 
they can snap to attention when they see the red robes."

Although Druids had been in the public eye for almost a decade, 
their influence on public policy was only now becoming clear. 
Oscar asked, "Why do they do that?"

She answered, "The word has gotten out on this base that we are to 
be treated like Colonels or better. Many of the upper ranking 
officers think that we are super soldiers. Can't tell them otherwise, 
so we have to put up with it. Personally, I can't wait for one of 
them to drop the bullshit and treat me like a normal person."

They had just gotten out of her car when a soldier came up to them 
and asked, "Oscar Meyers?"

Oscar turned and nodded in acknowledgement. He replied, "Yes?"

"Your plane is ready. I'll take you to it," he said. The soldier 
looked very uncomfortable at dealing with the Druid. 

After looking back in the direction of the house, Oscar turned to 
Jennifer and said, "I love your sister very much. I hope that isn't a 
problem for you."

Jennifer laughed and answered, "The only problem it presents is 
that I'm going to have a very lovelorn sister moping around the 
house for the next month."

Oscar looked very serious and said, "I'm sorry."

Jennifer laughed as she replied, "Don't be sorry. I've been hoping 
she'll find someone for years. Now get on your plane."

Oscar hugged Jennifer and then turned to the soldier. With far 
more sharpness in his voice than he had intended, he commanded, 
"Lead the way."

He followed the soldier to a large transport plane and entered 
through the loading ramp. He stopped to look at all of the crates on 
the plane, surprised by the tremendous amount of material loaded 
within it. All of it was to be used in the construction of the training 
facility. He looked around and asked, "Is this it?"

The soldier shook his head and answered, "There's another plane 
that has material and the engineers are on it."

Oscar looked around and asked, "Why aren't there any men on this 
plane?"

"We thought you would be more comfortable alone."

Oscar looked at the soldier for a moment and then asked, "Are you 
going on the other plane?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiled and said, "Good. Let's get over there and I'll fly with 
you guys."

The soldier looked uncomfortable for a second. There was a long 
pause before he replied, "Yes, sir."

The two men left the transport and went to another plane. As they 
walked, Oscar asked, "So what do you like to be called, Private 
Whitman?"

Recognizing that Oscar was trying to make him feel a little more 
comfortable in his presence, the man answered, "Most of the guys 
call me Whitey."

Oscar knew from first hand experience about how some folks were 
given nicknames that they didn't necessarily like, but answered to 
anyway. As if it was a fact, he said, "You don't like that."

"Not really," replied the private surprised that Oscar had picked up 
on that. 

"So what do you like to be called?"

Private Whitman answered, "Jim."

Oscar looked at the private and stated, "Okay Jim. Call me Oscar."

"Yes sir." 

Tired of being addressed so formally by everyone, Oscar looked at 
the private and replied, "Oscar!"

"Yes, Oscar," replied Jim as he started to relax in light of the 
informal manner of the man. 

Oscar walked along for a moment towards another airplane. He 
said, "Well, let's see how many Oscar Meyer jokes you guys have 
come up with."

The private nearly stumbled. He had laughed as hard as the rest of 
the men about the hot dog they were taking over to Afghanistan. 
He looked over at Oscar and noticed the smile plastered on his 
face. He asked, "You don't mind?"

It wasn't that he didn't mind, but he understood why they did it. It 
allowed them a chance to feel superior to someone, hiding their 
own insecurity. Oscar said, "They don't know me enough to 
respect me yet. That will come with time. Until then, they'll make 
their jokes."

Jim glanced at Oscar out of the corner of his eyes as he considered 
what the Druid had said. To hear someone talk about earning 
respect was something that was relatively new to him. Respect was 
given to rank with the understanding that it had been earned. 

They entered the other transport plane to see more crates and boxes 
on board. There were a number of bored soldiers seated on the 
hard chairs along each side of the transport. Oscar went to one of 
the seats and sat down as the men in the plane stared at him. He 
smiled back and said, "Now that the big wiener is here, let's get 
this show in the air."

A ripple of laughter ran through the plane as the loading ramp 
lifted, closing the rear of the plane. Oscar watched the rest of the 
world disappear and turned to look at the traveling companions. 
They would be with him until the camp was established and then 
half would leave. 

He waited until the plane had taken off before standing up. This 
was his chance to meet the men and women that would be working 
with him. He went from individual to individual, asking their 
names and their interests. He spent almost half the trip in this 
fashion, spending at least ten minutes with each person.

The last soldier, Brett Nolan, he met had watched Oscar go from 
person to person. He felt that Oscar was attempting to suck up to 
the men and his respect for the man had dropped through the whole 
flight. When he was given a chance to talk to Oscar, he asked, 
"You are a Druid, aren't you?"

Oscar looked over at the man and answered, "Yes, I am. I serve the 
Gods and Goddesses, although my service supports primarily the 
God."

Another soldier asked, "So what does that mean?"

Oscar looked off into the distance and answered, "It means I live 
my life according to certain rules. I strive to protect the weak from 
the strong. I work to defeat evil in the world. I advise others on 
how to serve the greater interests of mankind. It is an awesome 
responsibility and one that I take very seriously. Lives hang in the 
balance based on decisions that I make. The God has blessed me 
with special abilities to aide me, but I am still a man and prone to 
err."

Brett was skeptical of the claim and unwilling to risk his life 
around a religious fanatic. It was easy for them to say they had met 
their Gods and Goddesses, but he was a realist. Things like that 
didn't happen. He looked over at Oscar and asked, "So what special 
abilities did your God give to you? Walking through walls, the 
ability to fly, invisibility, or x-ray vision?"

Recognizing sarcastic disbelief when he heard it, Oscar looked at 
him in the eye with an unflinching gaze. With steel in his voice, he 
answered, "He gifted me with the knowledge and ability to fight 
terrorists."

"Yeah, right."

"You are talking to a superior, Private. Show him respect," 
commented the Sergeant assigned to the unit. The tension in the 
plane returned with a vengeance. He looked up at Oscar with 
curiosity, wondering about the man's experience in fighting 
terrorists. So far, much of their activities had been in the form of 
intense firefights with small pockets of terrorists holed up inside 
caves. He asked, "So have you seen action?"

Oscar answered in a flat tone of voice, "Yes."

The Sergeant believed him based solely on the tone of voice in 
which he had answered. He had been in several campaigns himself 
and understood that tone. It was the tone that a man uses when he 
has seen too much death and destruction. There was that lack of 
boasting that marked an experienced soldier. He asked, "What was 
it like?"

With a long sigh, Oscar answered, "It was the longest and loneliest 
month of my life."

The Sergeant realized with whom he was talking. He had heard a 
story about a guy that had been lost in the desert and taken out a 
number of terrorist camps single-handedly. The news for a month 
had covered nothing other than how many terrorists were 
reportedly being killed by the Renegade Warrior. Like many other 
soldiers, he had watched the news reports every chance that he 
had. He asked, "You were known as Foo, weren't you?"

Knowing that the Sergeant would put the pieces to together, Oscar 
nodded at the reminder of his past. Impressed, the Sergeant replied, 
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

One of the soldiers asked, "What's this about Foo?"

Oscar turned to him and smiled as he answered, "It was short for 
Fuck Up."

Brett was about to make a big deal out of it, but he glanced in the 
direction of his Sergeant and saw awe on the face of the man. That 
stopped all comment faster than when the Sergeant simply said, 
"Drop it, soldier. You have no need to know. Let me say that he's a 
far better fighter than any man in the army."

A silence descended upon the plane as Oscar returned to his seat. 
They were about half way to the landing field in Afghanistan. 
After the result of the exchange with the Sergeant, the men looked 
at him like he was some sort of freak of nature. He leaned back and 
rested, thinking about Georgia. It was less than half a day and he 
already missed her. He didn't even have a picture of her, yet that 
didn't matter. He could close his eyes and see her in his mind. The 
image of her beautiful face, flushed with the effects of her orgasm, 
looking at him with her love was burned into his memory.

He dropped off to sleep dreaming of her, waking when the plane 
began its descent and his ears popped with the change in pressure. 
He looked around and noticed other soldiers waking from their 
naps. The Sergeant walked around the plane, waking those that 
were still asleep. He told them to get their gear together as they 
would be landing soon.

Oscar watched the man work; impressed with the straight, no 
nonsense attitude the man displayed. Oscar remembered his 
Sergeant and realized that he had that same directness. He had 
been terrified of the guy until after he had met the God. Now he 
recognized and appreciated the expertise the Sergeants brought to 
the army. 

After the plane had landed and come to a complete stop, he waited 
until the loading ramp was lowered to stand. He walked out into 
the desert heat, reminded of the blast of hot air experienced when 
opening an oven. It was odd, but he appreciated the return to the 
hot climate as he looked around at the area. The Sergeant lined the 
men up and led them away to their temporary quarters. 

Oscar watched a group of men come over and start to unload the 
plane. Using forklifts, they removed the cargo from the plane and 
loaded them onto trucks. Once a truck was loaded, they threw a 
canvas tarp over the load and tied it down. Even as the men 
worked on the plane, the other transport landed and taxied over to 
a spot next to it. 

He stayed there watching as the gear was loaded onto trucks. The 
material filled seven trucks. He did some mental math and added 
ten Hummers for the troops. He didn't like the numbers. It would 
make a great target for terrorists and an easy one at that. The base 
commander, having been told to expect a Druid, strode over to 
Oscar and looked at the small red robed man. The gray cloak 
obscured much of the robe. He asked, "You are the Druid Oscar 
Meyers?"

Oscar, without facing the base commander, answered, "I am and 
you are..."

Taken aback by the fact that Oscar hadn't looked at him yet, the 
man answered, "I'm Colonel Peterson. We've made arrangements 
for a hundred square miles. Ten miles by ten miles as you've 
requested."

"Nice to meet you, Colonel," replied Oscar as he turned to look at 
the base commander. In a voice that conveyed real concern, He 
said, "This is not good."

The Colonel asked, "What's the problem?"

"Too big of a convoy. We'll get attacked as sure as I'm standing 
here."

The Colonel replied, "This area has been pretty quiet lately. We'll 
send out patrols before you leave. I wouldn't worry about it."

Oscar stood there for a moment as his eyes scanned the horizon. 
He reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a very small 
pair of binoculars. He scanned the horizon with them and then 
said, "I'll make a bet with you. If I can take out the guy that is 
watching this base from here, then you'll listen to my advice."

Colonel Peterson looked at Oscar, not quite believing that anyone 
was watching the base, and replied, "Be my guest."

Oscar walked over to one of the boxes that had been unloaded. He 
opened the box and removed a very long rifle with the largest 
scope that the Colonel had ever seen. After moving a couple of 
boxes, he pulled out a box of ammunition. Oscar walked over to a 
stack of boxes and rested the gun on the box. He set up the front 
support on the gun and opened the chamber. With deliberate 
movements, he put in a single bullet and closed the chamber. 

The Colonel watched him at work rather surprised at the 
seriousness with which the man went about his business. This long 
distance assassination violated the rules of engagement. 
Concerned, he said, "You can't just shoot a man like this. You have 
to make sure that they are the enemy."

"He's the enemy. I'm sure of that," replied Oscar as he looked 
through the sight and adjusted the gun. At this range, the barest 
fraction of a degree off would mean a total miss. He lined the 
target up in the scope and took several deep breaths. He released 
half of his last breath and held the rest. He squeezed the trigger 
with a smooth gentle motion. A moment later the target fell to the 
ground. Oscar looked up and said, "Let's go get him."

The Colonel, afraid that he was going to be stuck explaining why 
someone killed a civilian, said, "I didn't see anything."

Irritated at the Colonel's stubborn refusal to do what had to be 
done, Oscar retorted, "Come with me. It was a good shot, more 
than a mile."

"Oh, come on now." The Colonel knew that it was virtually 
impossible to hit a target over a mile away. This guy was getting 
on his nerves. 

Oscar walked over to one of the trucks carrying the rifle and got in 
the drivers seat. The key was in the ignition. The Colonel, realizing 
that Oscar would leave him behind, ran over to get in the passenger 
side. Oscar drove the truck straight to the spot where his target had 
been hiding. 

As the truck chewed up the distance to the target, the Colonel sat 
beside him staring in disbelief with how far Oscar drove. His eyes 
grew big when he spotted the body lying on the ground. Oscar 
stopped the truck and walked over to the body as a pistol appeared 
in his hand as he moved. The Colonel had no idea where the pistol 
had come from and stared in shock as Oscar fired a shot into the 
body as he approached. 

The Colonel looked back at the base, surprised that anyone had 
been that close without getting spotted by the helicopter patrols. 
Oscar flipped the body over uncovering a radio and said, "He's got 
a radio that he's been using to report on troop movements. Let's 
find his camp and see how long he's been out here."

As Oscar stood up, he picked up the rifle dropped by the terrorist. 
He checked it out and then put the pistol in his pocket. He headed 
into the rocks. About a hundred meters in, he found a small area 
covered by camouflage netting. There were supplies for about a 
month stay. He turned to the Colonel and commented, "He's living 
off the food we dropped when we entered Afghanistan."

The Colonel explained, "There's still a lot of it around. They 
confiscated it from the civilians when it was dropped."

Oscar looked up at the Colonel and said, "They are pretty well 
stocked. Many of the caches that I found had Russian Rations. 
They tasted like shit."

The Colonel asserted, "We're lucky you found this guy."

Oscar laughed as he answered, "Lucky nothing, there are at least 
ten of them around here. I just had to find the closest one. They are 
probably spaced out a half mile apart all around the base."

The Colonel stared at Oscar as he asked, "How do you know that?"

Oscar looked up from the stack of supplies. He took a grenade and 
rigged it to explode as soon as one of the ammo boxes was moved. 
He joined the Colonel as the man looked at his surroundings. Oscar 
answered, "That's what I would do if I were one of them."

"What else would you do?"

Oscar looked around and pointed along the two roads leaving the 
base. He said, "About five miles down each of those roads, I'd have 
a small camp of five to ten people. As soon as one of these guys 
says that a convoy is moving out, I'd have them set up bobby traps 
along the expected route. Then I'd disband the camp after the 
attack."

Surprised by the accuracy, with which Oscar had described the 
activities around the base, the Colonel said, "That's exactly the 
kind of ambushes we've been faced with in the past." 

Oscar nodded at the news. He replied, "Now they've quit attacking 
those convoys. However, they still get one occasionally and 
usually the most significant one. Am I right?"

The Colonel swore, "Hell yes. How did you know?"

Oscar said, "You are fighting the masters of distributed warfare."

"What in the hell is that?"

"Loose groups that function on their own. Each group co-operates 
with a few others. Imagine an army made of small groups of ten to 
twenty men all under the command of a Sergeant. A thousand men 
can create anywhere from fifty to one hundred such groups. No 
middle ranks until you reach the top and the top only gives general 
guidelines. It is a very powerful concept and one that is very tough 
to fight. You have to hunt them down, one at a time. By the time 
you take out one, they produce another unit to take their place." 
Oscar stopped and looked around as a bird flew over head. He said, 
"We had better get out of here."

He went to the truck and drove it back to where he had gotten it 
from. He parked the truck and went to watch the location where 
they had been. The Colonel joined him and asked, "So how do you 
win?"

Oscar smiled and said, "Watch over there. It should happen any 
time now."

The Colonel looked over at the area where they had been. He was 
quiet for a couple of minutes and then asked, "What am I supposed 
to see?"

Oscar didn't answer. A minute later there was a very large 
explosion. Oscar smiled and said, "That."

"Oh."

Oscar continued, "You have to hunt them with an even smaller 
force. As soon as you gather a large group together to go after 
them, they scatter. One or two men can move within striking range 
and take out a whole group. Take a hundred or so men working 
alone and you can do tremendous damage to them that a thousand 
men in a unit can't."

The Colonel said, "So what is your advice that you want me to 
take?"

Oscar answered, "Don't move the material out until I tell you that 
it's okay. Hide the trucks deep within the camp, where no one can 
get to them. Guard them well and don't allow any locals near them. 
Divide the material amongst all of the trucks. A few guns on each, 
a few walls on each, and so forth. No truck should contain all that 
we have of something."

The Colonel replied, "That's not very efficient. Makes it tougher to 
load and unload."

"We won't end up at our destination short of some critical item this 
way. I'd rather spend the time loading and unloading than waiting 
for it to be replaced."

They walked to the Colonel's office. Along the way, they 
encountered several locals that worked around the base. All of 
them took one look at Oscar and spat on the ground, turning their 
backs on him. Oscar noticed the action and thought about it a 
moment. He realized that they recognized that he was a servant of 
the Gods and Goddesses. The words of Omar, the man who had 
given him his cloak, returned to him. The people would kill him on 
sight of the medallion. He told the Colonel, "Everyone of the locals 
will kill me the first chance that they get."

The Colonel had noticed the looks that had been sent in his 
direction. He looked around, very nervous at the sudden tension in 
the air. He had never seen the locals act in this fashion. He 
answered, "I think you're right. I've never seen anything like this."

Calmly, Oscar looked around and said, "Don't worry. Why don't 
you go ahead, I'll be right with you in a minute."

The Colonel was about to respond and then realized that he was 
alone. He went on to his office. Reaching it, he stepped over to one 
of the windows and looked outside at the locals. They were 
looking around as though seeking something. Stepping over to his 
desk, he picked up the phone and called the MPs to come over and 
break up the activity in front of his office. He went back to the 
window and watched for another five minutes. The MPs had 
shown up and there was a major discussion. He shook his head as 
he muttered, "All I need is for the Druid to get killed his first day 
here."

 From behind him, Oscar cheerfully said, "Oh, I wouldn't worry 
about that, Colonel."

The Colonel spun around, surprised to hear the man behind him. 
He stared as he asked, "How in the hell did you get in here?"

"I used my cloak to hide myself and then followed you in." Oscar 
took off his cloak and then his robe. He stood there in desert 
fatigues. He put his cloak back on, taking a moment to adjust it 
correctly. He carefully rolled up the robe and placed it in a pocket 
of the cloak. He said, "I don't want to walk around with a target 
painted on me. Muslims will shoot me on sight. I'm viewed as an 
enemy of Islam by them."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a Druid."

The Colonel looked at Oscar, surprised by the stated reason. He 
asked, "Doesn't it bother you?"

Oscar thought about it for a minute and then answered, "Not really. 
They serve their God and it is his law that they follow. Perhaps one 
day that will change."

The Colonel decided that this guy was just beyond his ability to 
fathom. He asked, "What now?"

Oscar gave the Colonel a chilling smile. He answered, "I go out 
there and take care of my problems. I'll call in on the radio in two 
days and let you know what time to send out the trucks."
<1st attachment end>


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