missile

They’ve got an RPG. Get the rocket over here. Did you see that? I don’t see it. Look, man. The guy squatting down. The third guy. Everybody stay down. Let’s use the rocket. Fuck, yeah man. Use it. Use it. Wait a second. I’ve got to call this in…”

 

by michael harold

 

John. Can you see it? Where? Over there. See? Between those two buildings. See that window? Look. Just below there. Those two guys. Where? There. Right there. Oh, shit. Yeah, man. I see them. Fuck. They’ve got an RPG. Get the rocket over here. Did you see that? I don’t see it. Look, man. The guy squatting down. The third guy. Everybody stay down. Let’s use the rocket. Fuck, yeah man. Use it. Use it. Wait a second. I’ve got to call this in. Go, ahead, Rochelle. Everybody get down. Rochelle, are you ok to do it? Yeah. I’m ok. Go ahead, Rochelle. I dunno, man. Rochelle, just fucking do it. No, man. I need an order. Ben, give him the order. Hello, we’ve got an RPG here, three, maybe four combatants, no civilians we can see. Yes. We’re dismounted. Just as exposed as they are. On our bellies in a ditch. I don’t know if they’ve seen us. Maybe. Yes. Ok. Out. What’d they say? Yeah, they said yeah. Rochelle, go do it man. Ben? Yeah, Rochelle. Do it. Move your ass up there, Rochelle. I never killed anybody. Rochelle, you have to do it. We’ll cover you. C’mon, Rochelle. They’re going to drop a grenade on our ass any second. Ok. Ok. Where are they? I’ll show you. Look right there. See it? Yeah, I see it. Go ahead. Ok. What? What? It didn’t fire. What? The rocket. It didn’t fire. John? Come here. Over here. Yeah, bring it over here. Let me see it. We’re ok. Look. Here. It’s ok. Go do it. Have you got it? Yeah. Almost. Give me a second. WHOOSH. SSSHHH. BANG. Woah. Fuck. Man, you did it. Are they gone? John? Yeah. I can see. Yeah. They’re gone. Yeah, man. Let me see. Oh, hell yeah. Man. We did it. Hello? Yes. Our location is secure. Three that we could see. Out. Man. Did you see that? Baby boy dropped the hammer on their asses. Right on the belly button. Rochelle, you’re an artist. There’s nothing left. They’re dead. Wow. Hey, Rochelle. Are you all right? Hey. Yeah, are you ok? Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok.

 

Originally published:
Issue Twenty-Nine
January 2004

 

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