Chapter 20
Jagger
“Call.” Anderson tossed his cards on the table face up and grinned, reaching for the pile of chips in the middle. “Read ’em and weep, ladies.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” I put up a hand, moving my finger back and forth. “Not so fast, Corporal.”
My buddy, Sergeant Nelson, leaned back in his chair and snickered. “Do you think we invited a corporal to play cards with us so you can take our money?”
Anderson shrugged. “I thought you invited me because I made corporal.”
“We invited you because we were tired of Langston here only taking our money.”
He looked down at the cards. “I have three aces and a queen high card. Sarge didn’t even turn over his cards yet. How are you so sure he won?”
“Because he always wins.”
I flashed a cocky grin and turned over five hearts, all of which happened to be consecutive numbers. “Straight flush.”
Anderson groaned. “That’s bullshit. You cheated.”
I swept the pile of chips, along with a shoe Nelson had anted when he ran out of chips, over to my side of the table. “If I had a dollar for every time someone accused me of cheating, I’d still be smarter than you.”
Nelson chuckled. “The only hand that beats Langston when he’s on a roll is a lucky one. And you got shit luck, Corporal Anderson. You live in California, go out on leave for the weekend in New York and cheat on your girlfriend, and it turns out the woman is your girl’s cousin.”
Anderson’s shoulders slumped. “That was fucked up.”
I laughed and lifted my chin toward his pants. “You have any more chips hidden somewhere?”
He stuck his hands into his pockets and pulled out the lining. There was nothing but lint. “You cleaned me out.”
“Good,” I said. “Then go get Jace. He was promoted to lance corporal today. Tell him to bring his money to the sergeant’s tent so he can celebrate next.”
Anderson shook his head, but stood.
“Oh, and Corporal, if you warn him that he’s going to have his ass handed to him playing with us, you’ll be cleaning the toilet after Sergeant Nelson goes to the bathroom, and he’s got IBS.”
Nelson rubbed his pot belly. “It’s the wheat. I’m gluten intolerant.”
Anderson walked out, leaving just me, Nelson, and Sergeant Walker.
Nelson and I had been buddies since boot camp.
We both rose in the ranks and made sergeant together, and I’d accumulated a nice collection of his money playing cards over the years, along with other crap he sometimes raised when he was out of cash.
But Walker we’d only met a few days ago.
His platoon had just gotten back from the Middle East, where my fire team and Nelson’s were heading together first thing tomorrow.
I looked over at him. “Got any pointers on how to bring home a team intact, Walker?”
He pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette and lit up, taking a deep drag and exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “Sure. Pack sunscreen. You wouldn’t want a sunburn to ruin your day while you’re running through a field filled with IEDs and dodging a hail of gunfire.”
“Great. Thanks. That’s helpful.”
He leaned up and clunked his elbows on the folding table.
“Seriously though, the only advice I can give you is that complacency kills. We’re sitting here shooting the shit without a care in the world right now.
There are going to be times when it’s quiet, where you feel like you can relax, maybe let your guard down for a night.
That’s when you become an easy target over there.
Those fuckers are sneaky. They’re always watching. ”
I nodded. “Good advice.”
“Other than that, keep control of yourself. It’s going to be chaotic in the field, and your team is going to take the lead from you on how to act.”
“Keeping control is my specialty.”
“For your sake, I hope it is.”
***
This was the first time since we’d landed on foreign soil three weeks ago that the sky hadn’t been lit up with what looked like fireworks.
It was also the first time I’d slept for more than an hour straight, since there hadn’t been explosions to rattle me from my slumber.
My fire team must’ve felt the calm, too, because jokes and insults were flying around as we crossed through the desert in the back of a Humvee.
“Yo momma like a microwave,” Corporal Anderson said to Private Wall. “Anyone can walk up and push a button, and she heats up.”
“Oh yeah?” Private Wall pretended to slick back his hair. “Yo momma so stupid, I saw her staring at the juice container this morning because it said concentrate.”
I chuckled and kept quiet as the other guys jumped in.
“Yo momma so stupid, she put a quarter in each ear to listen to Fifty Cent.”
“Yo momma so stupid, she got hit by a parked car.”
We slowed as we pulled into a small village.
Sergeant Nelson and his team were behind us in a second Humvee.
A couple of kids were playing jump rope with clothes tied together.
It made me smile to see innocence after weeks of anything but.
The kids saw the American military vehicles and started running after us, waving.
Some of the guys waved back, but we kept on rolling.
“This is Khalari, the village we’re supposed to check out,” our driver yelled from the front.
“All right, pull over up ahead near that clearing.”
Once we stopped, Sergeant Nelson jumped down from his vehicle, and together we looked around. “Doesn’t look like too much of a threat.”
“Maybe I’ll finally get a chance to win back some of my money from Sarge,” Corporal Anderson said.
“The line forms in back of me,” Nelson said. “The man has been taking my money since freaking boot camp. I got a two-and-a-half-year-old who might want to attend college someday.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said with a smile. “Not if he’s got your brains.”
“Bite me, dickwad.”
I chuckled.
“What do you do with all the money you win?” Anderson asked. “I heard you don’t got kids.”
“I invest it.”
“In what?”
“The stock market.” In the three-and-a-half years I’d been in the military, I’d invested every penny I’d won in card games and turned my profits by twenty-fold.
“I don’t have enough luck to even win at cards, much less win at the stock market.”
“Winning at cards isn’t about luck. It’s about reading the table, same as the Dow.”
Nelson shrugged. “If you say so.”
I pointed to the area on the right. “Let’s set up camp there. As of now, we’re staying for three nights.”
My team of six jumped off the Humvee and started to put up our tents.
Nelson’s did the same. The kids that had been jumping rope a mile back caught up and surrounded us, watching the platoon work.
A few of them spoke broken English. I stood back when we were done and watched them convince Sergeant Nelson to jump rope.
It was a good thing he had talent when it came to rifle skills because his combat boots kept getting caught in the rope with every swing.
I laughed, enjoying the much-needed levity of the moment.
But then a wind gust kicked up out of nowhere and made a howling sound.
It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I looked around, searching the mountains for an enemy.
Finding nothing, I disregarded the feeling, ignoring the advice I’d been given a few weeks ago during a card game—“complacency kills”—and went back to watching my soldiers let loose a bit.
Which was the reason that I never saw the ambush coming. And neither did the men I was responsible for keeping safe.