Reboot
Chapter 48

“I’m starving. Can’t think straight,” Dutch said.

“Here, have some of this.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You a vegetarian?” asked William with a smile.

“No, no. Sausages and beans. I have a, you know, a problem with sausage and beans.”

“What problem?

“Gas.”

“So what? I’ll give you gas…Hehe.. Gas… I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure we’ll respect you in the morning. I used to know this one guy-”

“No, no, really… You don’t want this. I’m serious,” Dutch interrupted. “It goes waaay beyond the call of duty.” He talked seriously as he stared into his empty bowl.

He had everyone’s attention at this point and was putting on a good show. I was used to this by now. Dutch had a talent for working a crowd. It often came out of nowhere, when you least expected it. I laughed quietly to myself, relishing the suspense. Everyone had been feeling a little down after leaving the island. It had been three days, but it felt like months.

We were all sitting on deck for dinner. By now the whole crew had gotten pretty close. When the weather permitted, we sometimes had a picnic. Navy rules and regs were less stringent now that we’d decided to rebel.

He wasn’t finished. He went on.

“I was driving in the alps once after eating that stuff. It was a convertible you know?”

“Nice car?” I asked.

“Gorgeous. Sweet, girly pink thing. You would’ve loved it. I farted while going up a hill, punched a hole in my shorts and killed three French cyclists,” he said sadly.

“I was bent over laughing. William even cracked a smile.”

“Don’t laugh. I feel awful”… He said seriously. Pause. Smiles all around, muffled giggles…Everyone breathless in anticipation.

“I really liked those shorts”…

Everyone was rolling all over the deck.

“I don’t believe you,” I said still giggling. “You were never in a pink convertible in the alps.”

“Ah. Clever boy. Well it may have been a green jeep in the Black Forest in Germany now that I think of it. Or a blue surfboard in Hawaii. But there’re definitely three dead Frenchmen.”

And then everyone lost it. Again.

____________

My training sessions became a regular thing again. We’d have breakfast and thirty minutes later William and I would meet up on deck and start with some exercises to relax, stretch and get in the mood. They were something between Tai Chi and Yoga with a bit of crunching and planking mixed in. I hate planking.

Dutch joined us often, but not always. Joanna also, when she could. She’d stand by me. Sometimes brushing me lightly as we switched positions. Teasing. Dutch wasn’t into exercise, but he loved to hit people. So he didn’t do the Tai Chi-Yoga, but he did participate in my fight training with gusto. And if I blinked, he wouldn’t hesitate. To Joanna’s dismay, I’d often come to bed at night with bruises in my face.

I think if there is one thing Dutch taught me above all others it’s not to blink.

We’d go through various attack and defense scenarios. One on one, two on one. If I went straight at them I didn’t last long, but they had been trained in the usual army way. Rote, repeat, again and again. Therefore they lacked imagination and that was what I concentrated on. I got better by improvising and making up my own rules. I constantly tried to surprise them. We enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun. I liked their company. We made a good team.

Dutch also taught me weapons… There were plenty of them onboard. I worked with Heckler & Koch HK 417’s and HK GMG’s, the berretta M9, the M11 Sig Sauer P-228 , the MK 12 SPR, the MP5 submachine gun, the M4A1 and the Mossberg 500. I learned to take them apart and put them back together again. Dutch said that it was fine to be able to fight off two or three attackers, but if they’re armed, “you can kiss yer kung fu goodbye.”

The trick is not to get into that situation in the first place. See it coming, be ready for it, get out before it’s too late so you can get into a better space and take advantage. Anticipation. He taught me to always know what’s going on around me, to be on my toes at all times. What to look for in crowds, how to spot a tail or a bunch of them. He showed me face expressions. For example, attackers always made a similar face a fraction of a second before swinging or pulling a trigger. I learned to make my own split second decision between that expression and the act itself to survive on to the next round.

We shot targets like plates tossed in the air or wooden crates left on the waves. Our shipmates gambled on the outcome. Some said it was a waste of precious ammunition, but we had to train.

Every evening we’d eat and sit together to think and plan. The three of us together. We had a favorite spot again in front of the boat. People left us alone. The Independence was travelling leisurely to save fuel and to give us time to prepare. We’d be at sea for three weeks.

“I can’t say I’m not worried Dutch. They’ll come after me, right? How? Who? Where?”

“Yes. Certainly they will. I suppose they’ll send teams. They must know about you by now?” He looked questioningly at William. William nodded.

“They know you’re alive, now, and a real threat. They’ll keep coming, and they have resources,” said William. “They know that you know something. You’re a bigger threat now than before so they won’t stop.”

“And I’m sure they’ll panic and try to send people at all possible landing spots. They’ll have spies in all seaports, but we’ll have some time. Their spies will have to identify you first I think, and then they’ll send the team or teams. That’s how I’d do it,” said Dutch.

“Jesus.” I said.

“Ah… don’t worry too much. They’ll have to go through us.” He smiled and then looked at William. Then they both smiled.

I wasn’t going to be alone. I thought we could face anything together. But I wasn’t going to a church picnic either.