I’m not proud of this, but for more than a moment, I was hoping a missile might hit the prison and kill Rick Jackson. I didn’t give any thought to the other employees or the prisoners. All I thought about was getting to go home immediately. I missed my home. I worried about my mom and brother. I missed Alicia. Although the idea of making some extra money here was appealing.

Vicki slid so close to me, she was partially on my lap. Now the whole place was getting a little stuffy and close. I noticed a couple of people in workout clothes and realized some of the stench was coming from them. What could you do? You flee a workout during a missile attack, you can’t be expected to take a shower first.

I think it was mostly to break the tension as we all waited for the “all clear,” but Vicki said, as she was crammed on my lap, “So, are you seeing anyone?”

I also realized it was a genuine question that required an honest answer. Unfortunately, I hesitated and all I could come up with was, “Umm, ahh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? I think I feel sorry for the girl back home. What do you have? Commitment issues?”

I just shrugged. I knew my feelings for Alicia were real. I was also still getting over the death of my fiancée years before in a car accident. I figured I’d just leave it at the shrug.

Mercifully, the “all clear” came a minute or two later.

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

So far, since I’d arrived in Afghanistan, I’d been through another orientation, signed forms to the point that I stopped reading them, then helped DP in the office. It was his hope that I’d like working in the office and give up my crazy request to work patrol along the perimeter near the detention facility.

Today was the first day on patrol. Even though my plan was not just to work for Non-Metric Solutions, but to find Rick Jackson, I was kind of excited. The same kind of excitement I felt whenever I started any kind of new job. I was also slightly nervous. Not just about the job. There was a lot that could go wrong when I found him.

DP showed me the tan Nissan Frontier with a Colt AR-15 in a secure holder by the front seat. The rifle, which didn’t fire in automatic, was only in case of emergency. If I broke the seal holding it in place, I had to write a report. My main weapons would be the pistol in a holster on my hip and an ASP I carried in my back pocket.

DP quizzed me as he checked over my clothing. I had 511 cargo pants, a ballistic vest that felt like it was a castoff from a police department, a Kevlar helmet, and work boots I’d brought from home.