Operation Desert Eagle
Baghdad, Iraq
Now…
Vincent
Enjoying a rare, tranquil moment in the scorching desert, Vincent Moreno stared out into the hazy sunset. Across his chest he was holding the gun that was now just as much a part of him as the slow-beating heart under his U. S. Army uniform. His mind had only begun to wander to the usual memories of his beautiful Rose when his thoughts were interrupted by his partner Will's whispers directed to all of them.
“Y'all ever wonder what you'd be doing back home if you weren't here?"
Vince shrugged still staring at the sunset. He let the other guys respond. Most said the very thing he was thinking, “Always."
Will straightened out from where he'd been slouching against a wall. “The first thing I'm gonna do when I get back home is ask Missy Anne to marry me. I can't tell y'all how many times I've had a hankering to ask her in a letter or even on the phone, but that's not how I wanna do it."
Will and Vince had gone through boot camp together. They shared the same bunk, and though Vince had been a tough one to get through to, somehow Will had managed to get through Vince's hard shell and befriend him. They'd been through a lot together. Will was now, not only the only person Vince had opened up to here, but after everything they'd gone through just this past year alone, Will was now quite possibly the closest male friend he'd ever had. Something about this cheery southern boy had grown on him. The boy loved talking, and that alone could jolt Vince out of his miserable moods at least for a while.
The one thing Will couldn't stop talking about and went on and on the most about was his Missy Anne. Even though it was painful to hear about his happy relationship and how his girl was happily waiting for him back home, Vince couldn't help but smile when Will talked about her. Will's smile was never brighter than when he spoke of his girl. It brought back memories of when just thinking of Rose was enough to put a goofy smile on Vince's own face.
Curiously Vince finally broke his stare with the nearly gone sunset. “How you gonna ask her?"
Will stood up, and Vince glanced around cautiously then laughed when he saw Will's stupid overly serious expression. Will held one hand over his weapon, which also lay across his chest, then held out his other. “You only ask the love of your life once, so it's gotta be extra special. I'm gonna ask her in front of the whole town. Get down on my knees right there in the middle of town square."
He got down on his knees directly in front of Vince to demonstrate with a big smile as the other guys around sniggered. “I'm gonna say," he lifted his hand up at Vince, “Missy Anne, will you—"
The gunfire came out of nowhere, and in the next second they were all sprawled out on the floor firing back in the direction the shots had come from. Orders were yelled out along with painful cries from those that got hit. They all scrambled, and with the sunlight gone, it was hard to tell who was who in the darkness. But one thing was for sure: Will wasn't running with him like he normally was during these attacks. They usually stayed close—had each other's backs. But Vince didn't see him anywhere; he hadn't since that first shot.
“Will!" Vince called out as the gunfire began to cease.
There were a few more shots in the distance, and Vince knew they had to make a move again. There'd be no sleep tonight, not since their cover had been blown. “Will!" he called out again.
“Over here!" Someone else answered his calls. “He's been hit."
Rushing over to the sound of the voice, Vince's lungs were already having a hard time gasping for air. The two soldiers crouched next to a body as Vince approached. This wasn't good. Vince could see that Will was fighting in vain for his life.
Vince dropped to his knees staring at his friend. He grabbed Will's nearly lifeless hand and squeezed. He was in the very spot where he'd gone down on his knees to demonstrate how he'd be proposing. They had him lying on his side, and Vince could already hear the gurgling in Will's chest as he struggled for his last breaths. He'd heard that same gurgle more than a few times since he'd been deployed here. “Stay with me, Will," Vince demanded as his heavy heart pounded.
But it was useless. He'd been shot in the back—dead center. The shot had likely pierced his lungs. He had minutes, if not seconds, left to live. Then the shots started again, and they all dropped to the ground, but Vince continued to hold Will's hand.
“We gotta get out of here!" Their team leader yelled out. “Everyone, let's go!"
They all started moving except Vince. There was still some life left in Will's hand. He couldn't just leave him there.
“Moreno, let's go! We'll have to come back for him, but you have to take cover now!"
Vince almost did until he felt Will's hand squeeze his. “I won't leave you," he said crouching down with his face next to Will's, feeling an enormous weight of guilt that he'd even considered it for a moment. Will shook his head harder and with more strength than Vince would have imagined he still had in him.
“Du…" Will struggled to speak.
“Don't try to talk," Vince insisted. Whatever time he had left, he was speeding it up exerting his last breaths.
Will shook his head again. “Don't…give up."
“I won't! Now shut up!" Vince said, ducking his head down, covering his and Will's heads with his hands as another bomb landed nearby.
Will squeezed his hand again and grunted, “On lu…love…on…Rose."
Vince stared at him, feeling even more choked up, as he watched a single tear roll down the side of Will's face, but Will was still breathing.
His team leader was still yelling for everyone to move out of the area. Deliberately disobeying his team leader's direct orders was something Vince stopped doing back in boot camp. But now he had no choice. He lay there next to Will, still holding onto his hand. With the gunfire getting even closer and growing more deafening by the second, the team leader didn't wait. Instead, he ran for cover leaving Vince there alone with Will until Vince heard and watched his good friend take his last breath.
What happened next brought his father's words spiraling at him. Everyone's fate is predestined. The decisions one made, in Vince's case usually in haste, had something, but not everything, to do with the consequences brought about because of them.
A bomb went off just as Vince had pulled Will's tags from his lifeless body and had begun to move away from him. Vince hit the floor again, assessing for a moment where the bomb had gone off. Looking up, he saw that the explosion had come from the direction where his squad had headed. The whole area was on fire now. He knew they couldn't have gone far. He had to get to them now. There had to be casualties from that massive bomb. Just as he got up, two more bombs went off in that same vicinity, and Vince dove behind a pile of rubble for cover.
Feeling the warmth of blood streak down the side of his face, he knew he'd been hit by some kind of debris from the explosion. He wiped it away, wincing at the pain of what felt like a small gash along his temple. At that moment he knew—there was no way his squad had survived all three of those bombs. The whole area had been obliterated by it. Yet here he was still alive—saved twice from sure death by his friend Will.
As the gunfire died down, an eerie fog of smoke and silence settled into what had been chaos just moments ago. Vince crouched there, numb and lost in thought. He should've been thinking of what his next move would be. How the hell was he going to get out there alive? Instead, all he could think of were Will's final words, and had it really been his fate to die today?
If Vince could go back to that day—the day he let his parents down, again—the day he broke Rose's heart, ultimately landing his ass in Army boot camp and had now brought him here, would he do things differently? Would his decision be different now that he knew the outcome?
Taking a deep breath, he realized this really had been predestined. Looking back now, even after all the heartache he knew he'd caused his parents and the love of his life, he hadn't had a choice. Given the circumstances his decision would've been the same. Therefore, this had been Will's fate.
Rose had moved on already and never once bothered to respond to any of his letters: not even the one he thought for sure would make her understand. Maybe his dad was also right: that some things weren't meant to be. Deep inside he'd always known he wasn't the kind of guy a girl like Rose should be with. She deserved better.
His heart ached knowing that even Will and Missy Anne were not meant to be. Life was cruel. But at least Will died knowing his girl loved him unconditionally—faults and all. Things had been different for him and Rose. Maybe he was never meant to have someone like her in his life.
So why the hell couldn't he get the nagging feeling out of his gut? It insisted that even back then his choices, including the bad ones, had ultimately led him to her. But then later, decisions he'd made because of her, for her, had made him a better person—one that made him worthy of a girl like Rose—until that day when it all went to hell. But before that, things had been nearly perfect.
Vince lay there; his warm tears now mixed with the blood that still ran down the side of his face. He cried silently for the friend he'd just lost and finally allowed himself to cry for Rose. Life had been beautiful with her, and he'd been happier than he'd ever imagined he could be. She'd given him so much hope for a perfect future together. But that was then. Everything was different now…
