A Soldier's Story (4 page)

       Jay nodded. The soaring optimism he had experienced earlier had gradually plummeted back down to the depths of despair. He couldn't bear thinking of having to leave here, knowing that Darren–– and the others, of course––were still trapped inside, for eternity.

       He made his way back outside, despondently, sat on a ledge and drank a can of Sprite.

       "They've found someone, sir." A soldier ran towards him, out of breath and coated in dust. "Up on the right flank of the mountain, buried in rubble."

       "Show me," he ordered. "Is he badly hurt? Who is he? Where are the others?" He rapped out the questions as he tore across the steep mountain ledges after the young private.

       Portman! He recognised him from his photograph. They were loading him onto a stretcher. "He doesn't seem seriously hurt," the medic said. "Just pretty bruised and battered and badly dehydrated."

       "Can he talk? Did he tell us where the others are?"

       "Yeah, they're trapped in here somewhere. Probably behind the far wall."

       "What the hell happened?"

       "Some sort of explosion which buried them."

       "A booby trap." It was what Jay had feared. If they'd all survived it would be a miracle.

       All efforts were now concentrated on this one small space. Drilling equipment was brought in. Some soldiers hacked away with pick axes, while others clawed at the rubble with their bare hands. Jay was one of them. Now he knew for certain that Darren lay just a few feet away, he renewed his efforts with a determination bordering on mania.

       "Found another one, sir."

       Jay rushed over. "They're all here," shouted another voice.

       Oh God, but were they––and Darren––still alive?

        "The sergeant is in bad shape." The medic supervised the loading of the injured men onto stretchers. "It looks like his chest is crushed. But the rest only have a few broken bones and superficial injuries, although they're seriously dehydrated." He dampened Darren's parched lips with a wet cloth. "We got here in the nick of time."

       Jay felt weak from relief. Tears sprung to his eyes. "Here, let me do that," he said. He longed to kiss his beloved's face and hold him in his arms, something he would have done if they'd been alone. Instead, he contented himself with just being close and in the knowledge he would survive. It could have been so much worse. He offered up a silent prayer of gratitude.

~ * ~

       "More delays." Kerry sounded far away, and it wasn't just the telephone line. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but your father had a huge welcome home party planned. You know, back when you were in Cyprus."

       "I'm sorry, honey." Jay climbed on the guilt trip wagon. "But I'll get away just as soon as I can." Liar, liar, pants on fire, chanted the maddening little voice. And it was bang on the money, as usual. He was a liar. He could have been home a week ago. But he chose to stay on because of Darren. He had put him first. Had haunted the hospital, making token visits to the other injured soldiers for appearance's sake. All were doing well, including the sergeant.

       "You saved our lives," Darren said. He'd been propped up in bed at the time, looking pale and weak. "If it hadn't been for you…"

       "And the sergeant who works in the officer's mess," Jay reminded him. "Soon to be promoted, accordingly."

       "Not the only one by what I hear." Darren smiled, wanly.

       "You heard correctly." Jay winked. He'd been desperate to get Darren out of Afghanistan and out of harm's way. His recommendation that he be promoted to lieutenant would do just that. He'd be shipped back to Canada for officer's training. But the jump in rank was earned as well. Darren had been the only one to stand up to Porter and his madcap scheme, demanding that it be put on record that he opposed it. Besides, he was an all-around bloody good soldier.

       "Thanks, Jay," he said, and clasped his hand. "By the way, what will happen to Porter?"

       "He's being assessed by a psychiatrist. Apparently, there's a drug as well as an alcohol problem."

       "But you know he seemed so convincing about Bin Laden hiding out in the caves, that I half way bought it, myself."

       "Oh, I don't doubt it. He believed it completely. That sort of conviction is contagious."

~ * ~

       Jay walked across the sun-scorched compound to the hospital. Darren was due for release at any time, and he himself had been virtually ordered out by Beaumont. "There's no reason for you to be here any longer," he had stated quite firmly. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation in Cypress, then go home."

       How these words would have resonated with him months ago. But now they filled him with only anxiety and foreboding. It was as if this was his life right here, the most important part. The highlight, if you will. And once gone from this place, he would lose Darren and all the magic that went with him.

       Darren sat by the window, leafing through a newspaper. His face lit up when he saw Jay. "They're chucking me out of here tomorrow," he said.

       "And me, I'm afraid. Right out of Afghanistan."

       "Oh God, I'm going to miss you."

       "I know. I'll miss you too." He lowered his voice as an orderly walked by. "There's so much I wanted to say…but there's never the privacy, or the time."

       "Words aren't necessary." Darren looked directly into his eyes and held his gaze. "I know how you feel, because it's the same way that I do. You've always been special to me."

       Jay squeezed his hand. "I liked you, Darren. Then I desired you. Then I was in love with you. Finally––and it wasn't until I thought you were lost forever––I realised I just plain loved you."

       "It's all mutual."

       "What the hell are we going to do?"

       "Well right now I'm going to need you to help me shower."

       Jay raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding. How?"

       "Watch me." He rang for the nurse.

       Jay waited on tenterhooks. An orderly appeared.

       "Look I'm just dying for a shower, do you think you could help me now?" Darren looked suitably desperate.

       "Sorry, I'm handling half-a-dozen wards by myself, and everybody wants something. I already told you that." He glanced over towards Jay. "How about your friend here?"

       "Yes, of course, I'd be happy to," Jay delivered the line right on cue.

       "I hate to impose on you like that, sir," Darren protested. "Are you sure you have time?"

       "No problem, corporal." Jay stood up. "Let's go."

       "Thank you, sir." Darren reached for his toilet case and towel. "This is much appreciated."

       Once they had cleared the ward the laughter that had been building broke free. "That was fuckin' brilliant." Jay chuckled.

       When they reached the shower room, and locked the door behind them––locking out the world––time ceased to exist. For half an hour, at least, Jay exulted; they had total privacy to do anything they wished, without causing any sort of suspicion or censure. They moved immediately into each other's arms, and kissed as if they would never stop.

       "Oh you feel so good," Jay murmured, helping Darren out of the hospital gown and running his hands over his shoulders and back. Then he stripped off his own clothes and turned on the shower. The water felt deliciously warm trickling over his skin. He soaped Darren all over, while whispering endearments.

       "Your hand on my balls is the closest I'll ever come to heaven on this earth," Darren moaned. "Let it linger for a while." He returned the favour.

       The heat built in Jay to fever pitch. But he wasn't sure if Darren was strong enough to be fucked standing up against the tiled wall?

       "You're damned right, I am," he assured him, when he voiced his concern. "I came prepared too. Didn't you notice the Vaseline when you took the soap out of my toilet case?"

       "Alright, but if it's too much for you, I'll stop the minute you say so."

       "It won't be."

       "Okay."

       Darren groaned as Jay massaged his anus with the Vaseline. When he found the prostate and stroked it rhythmically, he went wild. "Oh God, you've hit the A-spot," he cried.

       "Shush…remember where we are." Jay covered his mouth with his own. They kissed and fondled under the cascading water.

       "Do me now. I'm terrified we might be interrupted." Darren faced the wall. Spread his feet apart.

       Jay entered him carefully, caressing his balls, stroking his cock, kissing his back, luxuriating in the sheer ecstasy of the moment. Then as Darren writhed like one possessed, he gradually built up speed and momentum as they fucked to a glorious finale.

       The contractions were so powerful they hurt. Jay thought they would never stop throbbing.

       "Oh God, it's like a dam burst," Darren wailed. "I could never get enough of you…never."

       Cyprus shimmered in the sunshine. Jay sat in his favourite spot beneath a palm tree, and watched a flotilla of yachts sail past the harbour. He lit a cigarette and ordered another beer.

       This is where he'd met Nadia, the red-haired hooker with an attitude, and he wondered if she would show up again? She'd been one helluva good fuck.

       The sizzling encounter with Darren, in the shower, had left every fibre of his being primed and craving for more. But that wasn't the only reason he sought out Nadia. He didn't want to go directly from his session with Darren, to his wife. He needed an interim female lover to ameliorate the effects. A bridge, if you will, between the two worlds. In much the same way as Cyprus was between Afghanistan and home.

        He sprinkled some salt on the beer and tossed a handful of peanuts into his mouth. A sinewy little hooker with spiked blonde hair sidled through the tables towards him. "Are you lonely, honey?" she asked.

       "I might be," he said. He noticed the dragon tattoo on her shoulder, and her tongue and eyebrow were pierced. "Check back here at nine." If Nadia hadn't shown by then, this one would do. "What's your name?"

       "Desdemona."

       He smiled. Almost definitely a nom de ho.

       She winked at him. "Until nine then," she said, and left.

        Jay spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through the street markets. He bought Kerry a gold bracelet––he had to bring her a present of some sort––and a few souvenirs for his parents, also.

       When he arrived back at the palm tree, Desdemona was waiting for him, wearing a black leather jacket and lipstick to match. "You're right on time," she said, provocatively. He followed her to the same hotel––a regular hookers' hangout it would seem––used by Nadia.

       "What do you want me to do," she asked, kicking off her shoes by the bed. He liked the way she deferred to him. She hadn't even initiated conversation. Wise move, it could so destroy a mood. Nadia had chattered way too much.

       "Bend over the bed."

       When she was in place, he lifted her skirt, caressed her thighs and patted her bottom. Then he removed the flimsy panties, tucked his hand underneath her belly, and fingered her cunt until it lubricated. She moaned and opened her legs wider.

       "I thought hookers weren't supposed to get excited," he whispered.

       "I don't usually…but I find you attractive and I like what you're doing." She wiggled her bum. "You know just where to touch and how."

       Jay felt terrifically turned on. He dropped his pants, rolled on a condom and entered her quite without finesse. He fucked her furiously. As if the sheer vigour of his movements could erase the encounters with Darren from his soul. While at the same time he knew he'd cherish every minute of them for a lifetime. Conflicted…he rammed his cock into Desdemona as hard and fast as it could go. Bloody…terribly…conflicted. When she cried out, he stopped. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling quite genuinely contrite. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

       "You could have fooled me," she shot back. "What are you trying to do? Wipe that chick right out of your mind?"

       That's exactly what he's trying to do, the little voice broke in with glee. But the clincher is, sweetie, it isn't a chick, it's a guy!

       "Okay, I'll take it easy," he promised. He pulled her over his lap and stroked her pussy and bottom until she relaxed. "Does that feel better?" he asked.

       She nodded. "Lovely."

       He gave her bottom a light love spanking, directly over the sit spot.

       He could tell that she loved it by the way she squirmed and tensed her legs. Then he turned her over onto her back. "We'll finish off in the missionary," he murmured. "It'll be easier on you."

       Desdemona wrapped her arms and legs around him drawing

him closer. "I really dig you, Jay," she whispered. "You're hot."

       He felt feverish with excitement––and for a woman too, he congratulated himself. One of the big fears he had about his affair with Darren was that it would make him disinterested or unable to perform with women. He edged his cock into her very wet cunt, and fucked her carefully, until the orgasm, which had been clamouring for release since the encounter began, erupted like a volcano.

       She rocked and moaned and clutched at his back, until he rolled off her. "Straddle me," he said.

       She fitted his still hard cock inside her and he played with her nipples, and stroked her bottom and belly and cunt as she rode him vigorously. When it came, her orgasm was a whopper. She squirted out a pint of clear fluid.

       "It should be you paying me." Jay laughed. He never expected to trigger an orgasm, let alone one of the G-Spot variety, in a hooker. He flipped her over onto her back and was so turned on by what had happened, it only took a few deep strokes to reach orgasm. But the contractions throbbed on for ages.