Interpreter #15

"Walking side by side with death,
The Devil mocks their every step"


I found the 'Terp as the last of the rags were shot trying to escape. He was sitting alone at the top of FB Rango's high outer berm. I waved, and he threw me a tepid thumbs, shouted something like:

Not bad for half-staff and conventional weapons skip...

I smiled and kept moving. He was right - I knew - but events were not yet complete, and it's bad luck counting chickens. The Rango raid - planned in a day, prepped in five, and decided in twenty minutes, had gone remarkably well. Division had taken strength and experience, redeploying Mase and his entire 12-man detail out of the AO just prior to our move on RIS with no explanation. The move left the column without its black weaponry, and stripped of an invaluable special forces resource, so I was especially proud surveying the aftermath. They'd stolen our heart, but the soul of the column appeared intact.

For a few minutes things had looked bleak. FB Rango - we'd heard - was at the top of a high rocky pass and held by experienced fighting men. As we moved closer, however, intel reports on the FB were looking more and more favorable. There were between 25-30 men holding the base, a much different situation from the countless thousands promised by the rumor mill. Satcom showed five prisoners from the first fight, penned without guards in a cell towards the center of the camp.

I had 50 rangers dug into the woods around Rango, and heavy conventional weapons on a far ridge, sights trained, guns armed, awaiting a word. The wire at FB Rango was guarded by only nine men, and the prisoners were locked behind enough walls to keep them unleaded during the operation.

Nobody - it seemed - knew anything about the cache.

We moved at dawn. I had three snipers in position on the ridge hidden between the tracks. Each was assigned two of the guards. I gave the "go", the guards fell, and 70 men went, unassailed, into FB Rango. After ten minutes of red slaughter the body count machine read 25, and the prisoners were set free and taken to the rear. The dust had settled by the time I found the 'Terp again. He was sitting atop a berm overlooking the southern reaches of valley of Ris, smoking something illegal when he noticed me.

Fuck man fuckiiiiin, take a load off. You wanna ?

He held out the joint. It looked big and inviting, so I felt proud of myself saying "no".

That's right. On duty. And you got scruples too. Ok. I just got off sat phone with A-Group. Your wife says "hi".

That was weird, but not completely out of character. One of the many things that amused Kayla about me was my pleeb security clearance. She talked to the 'Terp and other operators almost daily, and I was was allowed to hear exactly none of it. He went on:

She was concerned. Wanted to know as soon as we secured the base.

I replied with a laugh:

And - of course - all about her dashing husband...

Terp took a long hit and held it a few seconds before blowing it out at the rising afghani moon:

She didn't say, but yeah bro, I felt it. All the way through the phone. She was happy about the cache, thrilled about Rango, and elated about the prisoners.

What prisoners? We got the ordinance?

You didn't hear?

His eyes were drowned red and barely opened but he sounded amused and lucid as always:

We got three rabbits trying to break down the cliff in the back when we clearing the camp. Got em trussed in the basement, awaiting your pleasure. Mine too I guess, since Mase is back in the world...Anyway, we found the rabbits with all sorts of computers and gizmos hooked up to a metal wall. Fuckers found the weapons but couldn't get to 'em. K says we gotta talk with 'em...

"talking" was A-group argot for torture and death. Things were getting away from me. I didn't speak. After an uncomfortable few minutes, the Interpreter spoke up again:

I dunno boss, your old lady is foaming about these guys...Best talk to 'em before she calls back. Powers that be...

I stopped and waited for him to climb down. A few minutes later I was following him down a ladder buried between hooches in the center.

Dank down here dude. These guys ain't in the best condition...

It was more than dank, it was pitch dark. I was looking down about ten feet below me, at the Terp bathed in the only swatch of white light from above. I jumped the last few rungs and looked around at blackness.

Ok follow me sir. Stay close. Treacherous down here...

Treacherous and stinking. There was a concentrated decay smell so thick in that void, it made me want to climb back up. Instead, I felt Terp's hand on my shoulder, guiding me past. I turned my pen light on, and - casting it forward and down - almost jumped backwards over him. The two of us fell through space until the walls checked our stumble. I'd seen the source of the decay-reek in tepid pen-light: Three corpses, dry- rotted and moldering in the wet cellar. Terp...fuckin' with me. I yelled back toward the stairs:

Three dead bodies. Thanks duder, I'll remember this. You forget...

I turned back toward the bodies once more, just in time to catch another, dimmer flash over the dead men. There was a loud spitting noise, and Pain washed over me like a a moon tide. I was dead before hitting the ground.