Site icon Matt Durante

Mine Own Test

Mine

Mine

                It only takes a second to get into a minefield and then you have the whole rest of your life to get out.

                This is a statement that drill instructors say sometimes during basic training. It’s one of those things that should be treated seriously. Everything in training and school should be treated seriously. New knowledge is a gift.

                Having the maturity to accept that gift is another thing. Take the stereotypical high school kid sitting in trigonometry class. He doesn’t realize it but his teacher is giving him some of the secrets of the universe. These triangle equations and wave functions just look boring to him though.

                He’s thinking the same thing that a lot of people think when they “have to” learn certain things. “When am I ever going to use this?”

                And to be fair, most of the time they’re right. Most kids that take French class won’t need it. Most kids that take partial differential equations won’t need it. Most soldiers and marines will never find themselves in the middle of a mine field.

                But some will. And John is.

                John was dropped off here by Dragon Tosic. Dragon told him to “watch his step” in an sardonic way. The other men in the car laughed when he said this. John smiled and stepped out of the vehicle. That’s what one does when a gun is pointed at you and you’re told to get out.

                At least Dragon had the courtesy to give him his gun back on the way out the door albeit unloaded. It would be way too much paperwork to lose it.  As John stepped into the soft field he looked around.

                It was a dark, humid, May evening. It was too dark to see the ground well. He couldn’t make out the tire tracks in the grass. He knew the road was somewhere the way Dragon’s car went but he couldn’t see it.

                John looked around again as he walked. He could see in the distance, between two hills, the light that was at the top of a tower on base, Camp Butmir. At least he knew where he was. If he made it back to the road he could definitely make it back to base.

                He took a few more steps. The clouds parted and the near full moon provided a bit more light. He could see the wood line. The field was  large, it was going to take him another 10 minutes to walk out.

                “Watch my step, watch my step.” He kept repeating the line that Dragon said.

                Then it hit him. There had been a pile of rocks when he first got out of the car. The top stones had been painted white. He stopped dead in his tracks.

                “Shit.” John took a deep breath.

                John scanned the perimeter looking for other telltale signs. There were similar rock piles spaced out in other places in the field. He could make out the splash of white paint on top in the moonlight. John’s heart began racing as he continued to look.

                Sure enough he could see out at the edge of the field what he was looking for.

                They were too far away to read but the familiar reddish orange color confirmed his fears.

                He was standing in a mine field. The rock piles were warning signs and the reddish orange sign, although too far away to read, would certainly have the familiar black skull and crossbones, along with the word “mine” written in multiple languages.

                John didn’t dare take another step. He reached for his phone. It had died hours ago but maybe he could get it to turn on for just long enough to get out a call. He held the power button down on the small orange Nokia cellphone.

                “Piece of shit,” he said.

                All the technology in the world at their disposal and they couldn’t spring for good phones. They were encrypted and good for simple communication. They were functional but he never liked his. Back home he had a Motorola Razr which he missed. The Nokia may have been encrypted, but he hated it, rarely used it, and the battery died constantly.

                After a few minutes John put the phone back in his pocket. It wasn’t going to help. It was almost 1 in the morning. It would be another 12 hours before they sent anyone out for him and then who knows. Would Dragon and his guys come back to finish the job if John didn’t do it himself by making a wrong step?

                Dragon had been friendly enough. That’s how everyone acted. John was getting used to the posturing. His job for the evening was a simple one. He was to drive the Colonel to the restaurant and provide security. The Colonel told John to play nice with Radomir’s guys and not to get too antsy.

                The country was getting better but the infrastructure was still in shambles after the war ended.  Little things taken for granted like a juvenile court system were not available. Roving gangs of kids causing trouble had no real recourse or were treated as adults. The best answer so far was people policing each other.

                The International support was there to help rehabilitate these infrastructures. The intelligence community was there to learn about communications in the underground from terrorist organizations as the weakened structure of the countries on the border of the EU was seen as a threat. The other main reason they were there which John found himself involved in was the collecting of information about war criminals in hiding.

                The problem with a weakened country with weakened infrastructure is that there is a power vacuum. There is a vacuum and there are opportunities within that vacuum. Like America during the world wars and beyond, organized crime ran rampant in large cities. These crime organizations often provided a structure and a policing that wouldn’t exist without them. They weren’t good. But they did do some good and often it was just bad taking out bad. Hell, many labor unions exist because of these enterprises.

                John knew that the Colonel would be having a meal with one important member of the community that was profiting off of the vacuum. John was conflicted by this. So many of the people he dealt with had done terrible things during the war. Now, ten years later he was rubbing elbows with the small fish in order to catch the big fish.

                He understood it. Allowing the lower level people to continue to operate added stability to the region and helped in finding many of the people in hiding. It wasn’t one hundred percent morally sound. John knew that many of the people he was being friendly with were awful and should be standing trial themselves. But it was a question of scale.

                The people they were really after were responsible for largescale wartime atrocities. John tried to justify it in his mind. These lower level scumbags wouldn’t have been created if the true monsters at the top hadn’t orchestrated the deaths of over two hundred thousand.

                John sat inside the restaurant in downtown Sarajevo, you wouldn’t know there was such trouble. Pretty girls passed by and looked him over. He stood out like a sore thumb. He was doing intelligence work but at his height and build, there was no chance of blending. The young people went about their business. You wouldn’t guess by looking at them what things had happened ten years ago during the war.

                Hell you wouldn’t realize that ten years before the war they had the winter Olympics in the same city. High civilization on display for the world. John had even gone skiing there earlier in the year. Shit falls apart fast. It’s a delicate balance. People take a lot for granted. John considered these things as he did his job.

                Dragon was one of Radomir’s guys. He was a large man, lanky with an easy way about him. His guys followed him around and parroted him. Laughing at his jokes and hanging on his word. They dressed casually but clean. Jeans and button downs with fashionable dress shoes. One of his guys wore a matching track suit. They all had shaved heads and gold chains. To John they looked very cliché eastern European, but he supposed clichés were clichés for a reason.

                “You drink?” asked Dragon.

                “I do, but I can’t really right now,” John said.

                “Come on, it’s family Rakia, you have to,” he said with a smile. He poured himself a glass and drank. Then he poured another glass and pushed it toward John.

                John took the glass. He really couldn’t afford to lose his edge but it truly was considered rude to not try someone’s family Rakia. Besides the Colonel asked him to play nice so that he could be included on more of Radomir’s business.

                “Alright I’ll do the one. You’re alright.”

                “I think so.”

                John took a swig and immediately felt fire in the back of his throat. “Phew”. He said with a smile.

                Dragon slapped him on the back hard. “Strong? Maybe Americans aren’t used to?”

                “Hell no we’re not used to that. No one should be.”

                They all laughed.

                Dragon talked about how this woman or that looked as they passed outside the restaurant. He was decidedly not a gentleman.

                “You do well here? The girls they all look at you.” He smiled.

                John shrugged and smiled a bit.

                “Let me tell you a joke. You will like.” Dragon looked at his guys and grinned.

                “American, German and Bosnian guy crash boat and get stuck on island. American guy takes charge, says ‘Okay we need plan. I’m going to go get water and food’.

German guy says ‘Okay I’ll get a fire started on the beach. Let me go get some wood.’

American guy says to Bosnian guy, ‘go and get anything else we could find useful, maybe some supplies to build a shelter.’

The Bosnian guy says ‘Okay, no problem.’

They each go their own way and later in the day they arrive back at the camp where the German guy has a big fire blazing. The American has some food and some water.

The German guy and American guy are sitting by the fire wondering where the Bosnian guy went. They wait a while.

                Then all of sudden, Bosnian guy jumps out of bushes and yells ‘Supplies!’”

                Dragon slapped John on the back again and starts laughing. John can’t help but chuckle at the cheesy joke.

                “You have another,” Dragon says.

                “Okay, just one more,” said John. He had to keep things friendly while also keeping his head.

                A few hours later the Colonel came out from the back room with Radomir. Both were laughing.

                “Sergeant, give me the keys. I’m going to be going downtown with Radomir. I’ve already reported back to post. You stay here until you’re good and ready and then grab a cab home.”

                “Sir can I speak with you? Are you sure? I’m your driver.”

                “Sergeant I am in no danger with Radomir. I assure you. It’s already been cleared. I really want you to get to know the boys though. You’re going to be spending a lot of time with them.”

                John didn’t like it but he was learning to live with this different kind of operation. He had no doubt that the Colonel could handle himself. He also knew that there was another security detail waiting nearby. John hadn’t previously been out on his own like this. He had been downtown to socialize but never with valuable targets or personnel. This sort of thing would have never happened while he was in the Iraq.

                John nodded and handed the keys to the vehicle over. Radomir said something to Dragon and they laughed and shook hands.The Colonel waved to Radomir and they both left.

                In the absence of knowing exactly what he was trying to do John acted confident and friendly. Always have an escape route and never let them see you bleed. The Colonel said this to him tongue in cheek when John took his position. John knew that he stole the line from a James Bond movie. Intelligence work was not like a James Bond movie. But the advice was sound. Know how to get the hell out of dodge and never let them smell weakness on you (unless you wanted them to).

                “I guess I’ll be having a few more with you fellas now that the boss is gone,” John smiled and signaled for another drink.

                Two more drinks and many laughs later John looked at his watch and started to stand up. He threw some money on the bar to cover the drinks “Hvala” (thanks).

                “It’s time for me to get going. I’m going to be a wreck in the unit run tomorrow morning,” he said. This was a lie. There was no mandatory physical training in the morning but it was as good an excuse for a drinking military man to make as any. “I’m gonna go get a cab.”

                “No no John my friend. This is rude. We give you ride. Seriously. We give you ride.” Dragon’s face went from friendly to not friendly very quick.

                John turned around and saw that Dragon’s men were postured in a way to get their way. John thought for a moment. They were tough but they weren’t big. John had no doubt he could at least knock Dragon down if he had to and make a run for the door. Dragon was his biggest concern. He could take any one of them but not all of them.

                “Don’t John. I see you. You’re tough but not so tough.” Dragon pointed to his left. The guy with the track suit, Dario, was pointing a gun at him.

                John deflated. That was that. He’d have to comply until he found an opportunity. There was no advantage to them doing him in. What happened? Had he accidentally insulted them?

                “Please your gun,” said Dragon.

                John reached into his holster and handed it over. Dragon removed the clip and ejected the round in the 9mm Beretta, catching the round as it fell.

                “Don’t worry John I give back. Promise. Go to car, we give you ride home.”

                Dario waved the gun in the direction of the door and John began walking. Out front of the restaurant Dragon got into an old brown four door Skoda sedan. Dario indicated that John was to get into the passenger seat. Dario then sat behind him keeping the gun trained on John’s back. Another guy, Kemim got in behind Dragon.

                Dragon started the car and pulled into traffic.

                “So where are we going?” John asked.

                “Wherever I want,” said Dragon. “You Americans think you run everything. Do you think you’re very powerful right now?”

                “At this exact moment, I think it doesn’t matter what country I come from. I feel like I’m at a disadvantage.”

                “You made it through middle east only to end up here. This is irony no?” said Dragon. “Tell me why the fuck you think you’re here.”

                “I guess they told us we’re supposed to be doing good for Bosnia. Trying to help.”

                “Who helps you now?” asked Dragon.

                “No one I guess.” John responded. He was trying to stay as calm as possible. He wouldn’t let them see they were getting to him. Dragon was right. He’d seen a lot worse stuff then these sons of bitches. If they were going to do him in, he wished they’d just do it instead of stringing him along.

                “This is right. No one helps John.”

                They were heading in the general direction of the post but when they turned off the main road that ran through the city they veered to a road which John was unfamiliar.

                “Dragon, where the hell are we going? Do you really think it’s a good idea to fuck around? If something happens to me they know who I’ve been with. Don’t be stupid.”

                “Are you calling me stupid?”

                “If you’re planning on doing something to me then yeah,” John sounded stern but calm.

                “Wow this big guy.” Dragon laughed. “John John, I give you ride home. I fuck with you.”

                The guys in the back seat laughed. By this point they were on a winding road and Dragon pulled off into a field.

                Shit, John thought. He may have to pop the door and run. It would be the only thing that he could do. He took deep breaths. He prepared himself for action as he rested his hand on the door under the handle. Calm. Slow. Deliberate. Keep it together.

                He prepared for his move. He would count to three in his head. As he began his final count the car slowed to a halt.

                “Get out, you’re home. Base is that way,” said Dragon with a smile.

                John got out of the car.

                “Here is your toy.” Dragon handed the gun and the magazine back to John. “And John… watch your step.”

                He smiled and the guys laughed as they drove away.

                It only takes a second to get into a minefield and then you have the whole rest of your life to get out.

                John looked around and thought about his training. He wished that they would have practiced this a few more times. Now that he was here. Now that he was stuck he would have to make his way to the road. He had as long as it took to get him out.

                John removed his knife from his pocket and unfolded it. He crouched down slowly and made sure not to move his feet. He started directly in front of him stabbing at a slight angle into the dirt lightly prodding.

                Any mine for personnel wouldn’t be buried that deep. He went from left to right systematically until he was sure that there was nothing in front of him. Slowly. Deliberately. Calmly.

                He got down on his knees. He continued to prod in front of him left to right, making sure the ground was clear. The dirt gave way. He hit nothing.

                Eventually he cleared enough area in front of him that he was able to get into a prone position. The idea was that your chances of survival were increased because a mine tends to blast up and out. In John’s position he knew the reality of this was that if he set off a mine directly in front of him the concussive shockwave alone would likely kill him even if he could somehow avoid the main blast.

                But still there were other advantages. He would be more rested and able to better feel the knife in the dirt from his angle. Plus he shouldn’t rush. Being prone forced him to methodically clear every inch in front of him. He took a deep breath every time an area was cleared. It allowed him to pull himself that much closer to the edge of the field and hopefully, the road.

                If he were to feel something with the knife, if any solid object were under the dirt he would be forced to back up and turn himself. He would then begin the process again in another direction. Thankfully he had not hit anything yet.

                The minutes turned to hours. The time did not matter though. He had as much time as it took. Prod. Clear. Move forward. Prod. Clear. Move forward.

                As 5:00 approached John could see hints of the sun coming up. He was tired but diligent. He could see the caution sign close by. He would need to clear another 10 feet before he would chance it. When 5:30 came he stood up. There was only about 20 feet to go until the sign. And on the other side of the sign was safety, and the street.

                John stood up. He would chance it. With the sun coming up he didn’t want to be a sitting duck should Dragon come back. He looked to the right and about 50 feet farther down he could see tire marks in the mud where Dragon had entered the field with his car.

                John took a few deep breaths and shook out his nerves. Then he mentally counted down. Three. Two. One.

                John ran in the longest bounds he could possibly make, hitting only his tip toes to the ground, trying to minimize the contact with the ground. Within four bounds he passed the caution sign.

                “Fuck yeah!” he yelled. He put both middle fingers up and pointed them at the sign.

                He was exhausted. He began a light jog down the road. Based on the light from the top of the guard tower it was the rear of the base. He would arrive in the next twenty minutes or so. He felt lucky to be alive and angry that he had been put in that position. He would have words with the Colonel and then have words with Dragon. He would have the upper hand the next time he saw Dragon though. The son of a bitch probably thought he wouldn’t see him again.

                John felt foolish for getting impatient and trying to run the last bit of the field. What if he would have triggered a mine in the last few feet. Stupid. You made it all that way. Why not do it right the whole way.

                John rounded the bend and could clearly see the gate. He walked up. A familiar face, an Irish post MP, Doc, was manning the booth.

                “Rough night John? You look like shite.”

                John ran his ID over the scanner to check in.

                “You have no idea Doc. Could you check the sign ins and tell me if the Colonel came back last night?

                “Aye he did. I don’t have to check I just saw him down at the chow hall goin in as I were leavin. Looks like they’ve had you doing some mole duty rather than secret squirrel duty.” Doc motioned to my soiled clothes which were covered in mud.

                The secret squirrel society was the colloquial term on base for anyone who did intel work and couldn’t say what they were a part of.

                “Thanks. Yeah I was in the dirt for a bit.”

                John ran down the main street and to the chow hall. He burst through the doors and saw the Colonel sitting with a group of secret squirrels. He looked up at John and then shook his head.

                “Sir I need…”

                “John sit down.”

                “I just.”

                “Sit down Sergeant. That’s an order.”

                John sighed and sat down at the table. The men around the table smirked.

                The Colonel took a sip of his coffee. He then looked at John.

                “Someone go get this guy some eggs and a cup of coffee.”

                “I got him,” said Simmons. He got up and walked by John, patting him on the back as he went.

                The Colonel took another sip.

                “John. Dragon put you in a mine field.”

                “Did you know he was going to?”

                “Radomir mentioned that Dragon was probably going to screw with the new guy. You’re still the new guy to our particular group.”

                John was furious. Was this just a game? “If I see him again I’m gonna…”

                The Colonel interrupted “When you see him again later tonight after a shit, shower, and shave you’re going to be pals. You’re going to walk right up to him and sock him in the arm. You’re going to sit down and have a drink and you’re going to ask for him to show you around but not like these tourists.”

                “Later tonight? But I.”

                “You’re going to have a sense of humor about this. There’s nothing in that field. They cleared it a few years back. But they still use it for a little hazing every now and again. Did he give your gun back?”

                “Yes.”

                “Good. Don’t let him have it again. By no means are they good people. But I need you to be friends with them. Be charming. It will make the coming months easier for mission.”

                “It was a mine field,” John said.

                “You need to be unflappable. You know what’s at stake and we’re so close. We’re always in a mine field here Sergeant. And you know what they say?” The Colonel said as he picked up his cup yet again.

                John shook his head in disbelief.

                “Well?”

                John looked at him and wiped his face with his hands before he spoke. He knew the answer.

                “It only takes a second to get into a minefield and you have the whole rest of your life to get out of it.”

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