Hey y’all! I have finally completed another distressed chapter! Hooray! I know I’m somewhat neglecting The New Generation, I know, but the storyline I have for it doesn’t seem like a good thing to pursue right now with what the world’s doing, everything being kind of sensitive at the moment. I will write it eventually, but for now I have a less touchy subject, and I’m happy to write and share that! So here you are, Distressed VII!
Enjoy.
Distressed VII
Both of them were terrified. Almost instantly they were separated from each other. Johnathan was restrained and a bag put over his head while they took him into a small office room on base and Tankovy was forced into the courtyard area on base. There was a much larger security force on Tankovy for pretty obvious reasons, all her infantry guards had anti-tank weaponry, and an Abrams was on watch around the clock. Explosive ordnance disposal teams supervised her careful removal of all her ordnance. She only had six anti-armor type rounds and eleven high explosive rounds, strangely, she only had fourteen propellant charges. Well, strangely to them. It was the three other propellant bags she cannibalized for the bombs they used to escape. She had a staggering eight full belts of HMG ammo plus what was left over in the bin, and she had seven belts of ammunition for her coaxial machine gun, that turned out to have a broken recoil spring and thus was useless. She was stripped of her roof machine gun against her pleas and bargaining to just hand over the bolt and firing pin, her vast collection of parts and electronics were confiscated, her stowage bins were emptied out and her main gun was chained down to her bow.
She was especially petrified, she didn’t have Johnny with her to comfort her or speak on her behalf, she was locked up and in chains by the Americans, she has been told nothing of her fate, they’ve asked her nothing, they took everything from her and they won’t tell her what’s going to happen to Johnny. She started to cry. It seemed she was being abandoned, she’s not going to see Johnny again, there’s not going to be a pleasant trip to America, no citizenship, no family.
No home.
Johnny wasn’t as terrified as Tankovy, in fact, he wasn’t scared about his well being, but he was scared to death for Tankovy. He demanded that they get on and identify him already, he was repeatedly telling the other soldiers everything about him, who he is, his rank, what squad he was in, his social number, military ID number, his parents name, his home address, even his favorite meal to eat at his favorite restaurant, he just wanted them to let him go. It had been a long time since he had been back, long enough to where most of his friends rotated home. Some guys did know him and they barged in to see him, he recognized them and they would embrace and vouch for him. Eventually a Major showed up with a Captain and two Master Sergeants. They had a voice recorder, and a camera, why both is still unknown, and pads of paper and pens for recording. There were three gaurds, one being an MP, and a jug of water and a plate of crackers, that Johnny was nonstop munching on as food and a nervous tick. The entourage of men sat at the table across from Johnny. Then a Master Sergeant spoke, opening a folder and clicking a pen. The captain started the voice recorder.
“Private Reeves,” he began, putting his glasses on, Johnny nodded, “It says here you were received by your unit in August of two-thousand and twelve, and you were reported missing in action in June of thirteen. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Master Sergeant, it was June tenth.”
“Indeed,” he says before continuing, “the report from your squad accounts you as the only loss, aside from a humvee and a flat bed. Did you know that?”
“No Master Sergeant, I was instantly knocked out by a blast.”
“Yes, in the report it says a T-72 tank with eyes shot your convoy. Do you remember that detail?” Johnny pondered.
“Uh, no, Master Sergeant, it happened too fast.” He gulped. “But, there was a tank. Yes.” The officers looked at each other. The silent Master Sergeant nodded.
“Thank you Private, you said you were knocked out instantly?” Johnny nodded. “Alright, so can you recount for us the events that transpired ever since then?”
“Certainly, Master Sergeant…”
Johnny recounted his story, he was very calculating in his retelling of the tale, he left out the physical abuse that Tankovy would hit him in the beginning, he would emphasize how she treated his wounds, sheltered him from the terrorists, procured him food, water, attended to his waste for him and would perform physical therapy to keep his body as fit as she could. Then he went into detail on her escape plan and her motivations for capturing him at all, he emphasized that at no point did she place him in excessive danger or in way of certain death, that he himself took extra risks to sabotage insurgent materials, and that when the plan was executed she escorted him out of the hot zone and ferried him to the base. He mentioned that he was fed at least twice every day, which was all that she could procure, and that en route to base she exercised him to rebuild his physical strength. He left out absolutely every detail or hint at their romance and sexual activity. At various points the investigation team would stop him and ask many questions, be they strategic ones on enemy strength and resource procurement, tactics of evasion and camouflage for the assets, how he was feeling or even if wanted some coffee or a hot plate. At the end of the interrogation the staff welcomed him back and shook his hand, congratulating him on getting home safely, also for destroying a terrorist stronghold.
“Very good, son, very good. Now, let’s get you to the latrine so you can clean up. We could smell your stank ass from three clicks out! You look like one of them motherfuckers, too! We saw you ride up and we were like ‘ah these poor bastards have some big fuckin balls!” He laughed and stood up.
“Is there anything else, Private?” The Major asked as he stood up.
“Yes, sir,” Johnny started, “that tank I came here with, what’s going to happen to her?” The Major scowelled and looked to the captain.
“Captain?” The captain nodded.
“Private, we have reason to believe, and now evidence to support, that this tank was the one that fired on our convoy and abducted you. So we are building a case against the tank to hold a court marshall against it.”
“What?” Johnny asked.
“We’re taking it to trial.”
“But sir, I- I just told you everything we did.”
“And proved that it abducted you. You’ll be held as a witness to prosecute the tank. Don’t worry son, we’ll get it right.” Johnny was in complete disbelief. The staff departed, taking their things with them and leaving Johnny sitting there feeling terrible. His gut churned and he felt like he was going to vomit. One if the gaurds grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.
“Come on, Reeves, let’s go hose you down.”
Johnny was escorted out of the building and around to the latrines, a shack with shower stalls in it. He was helped to get naked and given soaps to wash. He enthusiastically washed himself, months of filth came off of him, the water was black with gunk. While he took his shower some fellow privates cobbled together an extra uniform for him. All his stuff had been sent home months ago. The boots were too big, and he didn’t quite fit the uniform since he was so frail now, but he could grow into it. Then he was sat down outside his old tent and everyone gathered around and recorded him getting all his hair cut off. Huge locks of hair fell in massive clumps to the sand. His magnificent, scraggly beard was cut away until it was short enough for a razor, his long head of hair chopped and dropped down to an even buzz cut, he brushed his teeth for the first time in months and realized he probably should get a medical check up, which is why he washed so enthusiastically, to wash off any signs of the two of them fucking. He was given food, which he consumed like a dog, then taken to the medical tent for a check up.
The medical team x-rayed his legs and performed a full body health checkup. He was underweight but fit, his teeth were terribly dirty but only one cavity had started forming, thanks to the Arabic diet being low sugar, and his legs were actually not completely healed. One leg was going to have to be broken again and realigned correctly. They admitted that while crude, Tankovy did a remarkably good job of nursing him. When Johnny heard that he begged the medical staff to put it on record wherever they can. He asked for a copy of the report for himself, if possible. Once this was over, about six hours after he was separated from Tankovy, he went after her. He found her locked down in the courtyard, and absolute miserable wreck. Her eyes were dim and dead, she was quietly sobbing, and she was radiating the feeling of depression. He started running towards her, ignoring the gaurds with the rocket launchers because he knew they didn’t care, and ran right up to her. He called out to her as he got close and she perked up, she grabbed him and hauled him right up to her side, smacked him good across the face, then held his head close to her. She cried harder.
“Johnny, I’m scared.” He tried to comfort her as much as possible, he told her that the two of them will never be too far apart, that the army isn’t going to kill her, and that the army still has a bed for the two of them. “How? Why? What are they doing? What’s going to happen to us?” Johnny looked her in the eyes and tried to tell her about the court case coming up, he had a huge lump in his throat. Its absolutely not what she needs to hear right now but she has a right to know. “Tell me! Please Johnny!”
“Tankovy…” he croaked “they want to court martial you…” she was horrified.
“What!?”
“They want to put you on trial for stealing me.” She was crying more. A main battle tank was crying in the arms of a foreign soldier. How low she felt she had fallen. “And that’s not the worst of it. They want me to stand against you.” She started bawling. She started smacking him more.
“You said we’d be okay! You said you’d stay with me! You liar! You said they wouldn’t lock me up! You said that they would help me! Fuck you! After everything we did!?”
She continued yelling at him, the soldiers around were very unsure of what to do. None of them had been to couples therapy-yet, and just stood there letting it happen, staring at each other. Tankovy wasn’t beating Johnny down yet, she easily could, but she still loved him, she hit him more so to emphasize her anger. Johnny was trying to calm her down saying how he’s putting her in a good light and that he’s going to do everything he can to save her. Tankovy was so upset she slurred her words and scolded him in Russian. Johnny didn’t even notice the two Abrams tanks behind him pointing their guns at Tankovy’s flank. The two Abrams sat there awkwardly as Tankovy and Johnny argued, they were rotating on and off the watch at that moment. The one oncoming turned to the other and asked “Are they a thing or something?”
“I-I think so,” the off-going Abrams said, “so from what I could tell he hooked up with his captor and now she’s angry that he abandoned her?”
“Bro she went out and kidnapped a husband.” He chuckled, putting on a Russian accent, “In Soviet Russia, mail bride order you!” That got the two of them to laugh. They sat there awkwardly again just watching the drama. It was the most entertaining thing to do on the whole fucking base. Sit there and watch a relationship crash. “I think she loves him.” Oncoming watch said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he’s not dead.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She’s still holding him! If she didn’t love him and she was this upset he probably would have been popped like a bag of chips or hit so hard his head spins off like a top.”
“I can see that.” He smirked and looked to the other tank. “You think they fucked?” The other guy whistled and rocked forward and back.
“I dunno, bro. He could be into that, or she’s into it and trying to make it happen.”
“I bet you they fucked.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup.”
“Whatcha bet?”
“I bet a whole case of monster.”
“I’ll shake on that. I bet a case of monster they haven’t fucked.” The tanks reached to each other and firmly shook hands as Tankovy pinned Johnny to her glacis plate and sobbed. He stroked her hand passionately to comfort her. “Russian tanks are really small, dude.”
“I told you, I told you a dozen times.”
“Okay mister desert storm veteran. Old ass fart.”
“I’ll still kick your ass.”
“Pshh, okay, gramps. Don’t get senile on me yet.”
While she was still sobbing Tankovy released her hold on Johnny and told him he should go to avoid trouble. He agreed, reassuring her that he will do everything in his part to save her. Her eyes were glossed over with tears and as they stared into each other he could see her desperation, and she could see his dedication. They parted after a moment and he walked away. One of the guards stopped him and asked him what happened out of genuine curiosity. Johnny wanted to get to bed so he briefly skimmed over the events, getting captured, being entombed inside her, recovery, they blew up a terrorist base and ran here. The soldier had respect and admiration for Johnny and sent him off to get some well deserved sleep. Being a nineteen year old kid the soldier told all the other guys the story.
Johnny laid down in his cot, the first bed shaped thing he’s had for almost a year. It was strange to him at first, and his mind raced with cunning strategies and tactics to prop Tankovy up in the best light from a legal perspective. After twenty minutes he was out like a light, in the deepest sleep he’s had since being knocked unconscious. Meanwhile the Abrams guarding Tankovy heard Johnny’s story and also shared some admiration for the couple. He looked over her carefully, noting how poorly kept she was, bolts were rusty, her extremities were all beat up and rusty, too, she was filthy, covered in sand and muck, and her paint was faded and chipping. Now that he knew what company she shared he felt bad for her.
“Hey, ruskie, you speak English?”
“Yes.” She replied quietly, afraid of what the male Abrams would demand of her.
“You need anything?” She was quiet, wary of a trap. “You’re pretty fucked up, we’ve got wire brushes, we’ve got lube oils, we’ve got water, we could bathe you.” She smiled a little, fond memories of her old crews pampering her flooded her, when they would take pride in her appearance. They used to comb over her, addressing the most minor of faults, rust, fucked up paint, dirt and mud. If she wasn’t out on the field for exercises her crews usually kept her clean and good looking. Even her Iraqi crews kept her decently well cleaned. It all fell apart when Al Qaeda took her in, offering her a better life. She should have known that was a trap. They simply didn’t have everything needed to keep her up like the last two militaries she was with. Some guys tried, but they could only do so much. This offer was like a ticket to heaven for her.
“I would absolutely love that.”
“Okay, I’ll get my new guy to do that tomorrow.” Suddenly his tone shifted to a darker, intimidating mood, “But if you try any funny shit, I’ll rip you apart piece by piece, you tracking?”
“I understand, comrade.” The Abrams was a little giddy, she called him comrade.
“So, how’d a little tank like you end up in a shit-hole like this?”
“Well,” she told him her story, like she told Johnny, about how she was part of the glorious Soviet Army, but when she was slated to be upgraded with new technology Iraq bought more tanks from Russia, and to save money the army sent her to Iraq instead of upgrading her. She served with Iraq until the Gulf wars, her unit was effectively obliterated and consolidated, but by then the war was over, and in the chaos a rebel band named Al Qaeda offered her a better life and opportunity to get back at the juggernaut countries that ruined her. In the moment she took it, but life wasn’t great. She mentioned her maltreatment and how one of the leaders sought to use her for pleasure, and how that didn’t go his way. The Abrams laughed at that, calling the leader fucking stupid for thinking that. She felt a little better, it eased the mood. She talked about wanted to break out and go back to Russia, and how if she tried to leave alone she’d effectively get no where, she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without a group with her, and didn’t have much fuel to begin with. She needed to stage an attack to grab an American, hide him from the terrorists, and then use him to help blow up the compound to cause a big enough distraction to get away. Then she could be free to find a route back to Russia. The Abrams voiced his critiques of the plan, and mentioned his role in the Gulf wars. They talked about that for a few hours. At the end of the night she felt pretty comfortable with the Abrams, at least. The guards came and went, getting different pieces of the stories, some were pretty interested in them, others couldn’t care less. Just before sunrise Tankovy asked the Abrams a question very quietly, so nobody could hear but him. “Do you think I have a chance at getting into America, to become an American?”
Fin Distressed VII