The Search for Macko

Reads: 235  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 10, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 10, 2016



Chapter 1

Thursdays were usually quiet. It was Hal’s shift and things were always quiet on Hal’s shift. An intimidating man, Hal was 6’4” of roiling anger looking for any reason to be tapped. He had been here since he had gotten back from Vietnam. He knew this hotel better than he knew the Surgeon General’s warning on his pack of Kool Ultras. This particular Embassy Suites always attracted an unusual crowd; fortunately Hal was an unusual sort. The napalm ‘accident’ left visible scarring and a dishonorable discharge, but what the ‘accident’ had taken from him, it had also forged his resolve in the Jungles of Saigon.

This is where his mind was that particular Thursday, as it so often was, when the staccato crack of his walkie-talkie pierced the early night.

 ‘218… Hal, we need you at 218 now’

Overcoming the walkie-talkie induced PTSD, Hal responded half out of shock, half out of repressed memories.

‘Let me guess, gooks’

‘No you racist fuck, get to the room now before I finish what the napalm started and fire your ass’ roared his manager, Sal.

Orders he understood. The last time he followed orders was from his NCO in the Jungles of Saigon. The last time he saw that NCO was the same day as the ‘accident’. Hal hated Sal, and did not respect his orders. Sal who had never seen the life leave a man’s eyes, or heard the death rattle of a fallen enemy. At least those he left dead in Vietnam found solace in the Halls of Valhalla, Sal had never left this area code of New Jersey.

So he meandered his way to 218, a room he knew well. Exiting the back stair well, he thought he saw a pair of legs go up and over the railing on the floor above. Hal almost instantly shook it off, his acid flashbacks had played worse tricks on him before. He went to the door and listened for a while, hearing nothing, Hal went on his way. Not in my hotel, Hal thought to himself, convinced he was in for another quiet weekend at the Embassy Suites.  

© Copyright 2018 WarOfNorthernAggression. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More War and Military Short Stories