Bloodshed: Afghanistan Part Two

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
The quartet are hatching a plan with nearby compound Istanbul-77 to destroy a Taliban outpost that is threatening Tampa-22. But when something unexpected happens, can James take the blow the Taliban has dealt him?

Submitted: August 25, 2014

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Submitted: August 25, 2014



Bloodshed: Afghanistan

Part II

By sanghooleecs50x

Part of a Series of Short Stories

Also check out: The Call Part One,
Bloodshed: Afghanistan Part One

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Please Note:
The Zapfinos are a fictional group of people. They do not exist.

This book contains graphic material. Reader discretion is advised. 



Chris Schulz, a voluntary Marine, and Lt. Warren Smith marched into the heart of the village, kicking down every door and obliterating every single person in sight. Using a K1 assault rifle equipped with infrared sight picked up from a rotting Taliban corpse, Warren kept an eye out for a notorious group of people that he had never heard of until the previous day: the Zapfinos. The Zapfinos were a group of Afghan fugitives that had broken out of prison. Most of them had been locked up for sometime in their life, and also had participated in gang activity, ranging from hit-and-runs to gang-raping. They were "adrenalin junkies on steroids." as Chris liked to call them.
Chris shuddered. "I don't like this place, Lieutenant. It's friggin' sketchy."
"Agreed, Schulz. But we must obliterate this village or else-" 
There was a blast of gunfire as three Zapfinos broke out of the nearby woods. The center Zapfino, with a flaming red Mohawk, brandished a battle axe, screamed and hurled his weapon. Chris dodged it and shot his MG4. The deadly rat-tat-tat of the gun mixed in with the noise of the battle. The sounds of an M4 Carbine harmoniously blended in with the sound of the MG4 and a Beretta U20 that had just begun firing. A hail of bullets suddenly rained down upon Chris and Warren. Reinforcements for the Zapfinos had arrived. 
"Oh, shit!" Warren yelled. He whipped out his walkie-talkie and radioed James for help.

While James and Dean scouted out the local market, gunfire could be heard. Ignoring it, they continued until James got a call on his radio. He whipped it out of his combat belt and listened in.
"James!" Warren sputtered, apparently distressed. "There's a group of Zapfinos attacking us in the heart of the village! Help!"
"Sweet Jesus, I'm on my way!" James yelled back, then hung up."
"What's the matter?" Dean asked, concerned.
"Chris and Warren are in trouble. They're in the heart of the village. We've gotta go, now." James fired back the reply.

SMA Franklin George was not a happy man. The home base under his command had burned down to the ground, plus lost half of its available forces. He sulked in his tent outside Tampa-22, thinking. At least half the building had to be torn down and rebuilt. That would take at least eight months, he estimated. 
"Damn those motherfucking Taliban." George muttered under his breath. "If it weren't for them, none of this would've happened."
Just then, Major Rover Larson ran up to him and reported, "Sir, we've counted the casualties. We've concluded that at least six hundred people have died, while another four hundred are injured. This means that we have only about 251 able men left to fight." 
George slammed his fist down onto the "desk." "Son of a bitch!" He cursed, mopping up his spilled coffee with his army handkerchief. He made a couple of quick mental calculations in his head. He concluded that he would need at least three hundred new recruits, which would take at least six months to train at the cadet academy. 
The Sergeant Major had a sudden flashback to training. While jogging at the beach, he was visualizing himself burning up in hell, because every muscle in his aching body felt that way. As they passed the Navy SEAL training compound, however, they saw the SEALs-in-training being kicked out of bed by the bunk leader, readying them for another hellish nightmare of a day. And George thought to himself, "I could be worse off than others." And that fateful day was now his motivation.

James and Dean rushed over to the center of the village. They saw lots of carnage, including two distinguishable uniforms through the Taliban bodies...
"No. No. Nonononononono!!!" James cried out. "This can't be!"
"It's a shame. I only knew them for a day or two." Dean sighed and wiped a tear away from his eye.
"SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!" Two familiar voices yelled out. Chris and Warren stepped out into the open, wearing... 
"Why the fuck are ya guys wearing Taliban uniforms??" Dean asked.
"Oh, Chris came up with a crafty plan. I've gotta say, he's one clever son of a bitch." Warren lifted his eyebrows, then grinned. 


Two minutes later, with their original uniforms stored in their packs, Chris and Warren marched James and Dean towards a Taliban outpost. James and Dean had their hands held high in the air, while Chris and Warren wore Taliban uniforms. The plan was that Chris and Warren would act as Taliban guards, while James and Dean acted as prisoners.
As they reached the outpost, James was the first to ask a question. "Do you know what I did earlier?"
"No." Chris shook his head.
"I let the Sergeant Major know about your plan. He happened to have lots of clean an' crisp Taliban uniforms. He says he's sending help."
"Awesome! It would be hard to take down at least a hundred soldiers with just four men."
When the group of four reached the gates of the Taliban base, they found three hundred men in Taliban uniforms. They were from the U.S. Army.
"Where're you guys from?" Dean asked. "Not from Tampa-22 I suppose. It burned down to the ground!"
"We're from Istanbul-77. I'm Private Harris." A big burly man held out his hand. 
Chris took his hand and shook it firmly. James got in line in front of Dean and behind Warren. 
"So you're from Istanbul-77?" Warren asked.
"Hell yeah. Best compound I've been stationed on. Sorry about Tampa-22, by the way."
"Ready to burn down this son of a bitch?" James asked the group in earnest.
"Hell, yeah. We gonna trash this thing so hard they'll have to move, ain't that right?" The lead soldier, Major Scott Piffins, yelled to a chorus of "HURRA!" from the others.
Chris tossed James and Dean two sniper rifles. "You snipe Taliban soldiers in those two trees." Warren pointed out two trees that overlooked the fifty-acre wide outpost.
"Got it. Let's do this!" Dean yelled and started scaling the tree when a shot rang out. James saw red liquid start to seep from Dean's hand. Dean lost his grip and fell, hitting the ground with a loud thump.
James heard a sickening snap.
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