‘Fuck you, loser! I’ll fly out there and wip your old ass up and down the street!’ To many, the simple, yet provocative statement that rested safely within the borders of the message box displayed on the computer’s monitor were just words, but for Eugene, they were so much more. For this scrawny, rodent-like person, those words were his golden opportunity to strike out at a population that he had found so much difficulty connecting with. For Eugene, cyberspace was a wa...

Ah, sitting here alone watching the rain bead against the windshield under the dim light of a near-by street lamp, I can still remember my first. It was the summer of all summers, the year that my mother finally cut me loose from the tight leash that she had held onto me with all of those years. I was finally free to spend my time away from school running wild across town with my friends. Our mornings consisted of glazed and chocolate delights down at old man Davis’s donut shop, follow...

CHAPTER FOUR: THE CREAM RISES SATURDAY, AUGUST 10, 1991 FORT BENNING, GEORGIA 1530 HRS. As they were now members of First Platoon, E-Company, 2nd Battalion of the 58th Infantry Regiment (training), Colby and Ethan took a healthy look around at their new home for the next few months. Other than the addition of windows along the exterior walls and offices at the head of the room, their new bay looked exactly like the one at reception and as the son of a homebuilder, Colby was more than a littl...

“So, tell me once again where you were Tuesday night around ten o’clock,” Officer Plymon says to me once more as he stands in the corner of the small, windowless room. Bringing my hands to my face, I run my fingers through my shortly-cut, brown hair. To the two arrogant, small-town policemen, this is a simple sign that the exhaustion of the interrogation is wearing me down, but these two jackasses haven’t got a clue. I could tolerate this shit for a lot longer than And...

CHAPTER THREE: NEW FRIENDS FRIDAY, AUGUST 9, 1991 FORT BENNING, GEORGIA 0530 HRS. Opening his eyes to find the blinding glare of the overhead lights shattering the remnants of his dream-filled sleep, Colby raised his left arm and looked at his watch. Five thirty already, he thought. Shit, I just got to sleep. Colby rolled out from under the irritating coverage of the wool blanket, placing his feet into his shower shoes and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking a good look around the bay and...

CHAPTER TWO: RUDE AWAKENING TUESDAY, AUGUST 6, 1991 COLUMBUS, GEORGIA 2215 HRS. As he stepped from the plane, the moist heat of the late night air nearly took Colby Greer’s breath. His father and uncle had warned him of the heat and humidity, but that was not preparation enough and Colby gathered himself to walk down the steps. This is going to suck, he thought as he wiped the already forming perspiration from his forehead. Upon entering the terminal, Colby noticed a desk with a sign th...

CHAPTER ONE: CHOICES DATE: CLASSIFIED LOCATION: CLASSIFIED 0030 HRS. Camouflaged in the shadows by his dark clothing, the man carefully navigated the garbage and debris of the narrow alleyway, keeping the Heckler and Koch .45 caliber pistol that he held securely in his right hand at the ready. He approached the side entrance to one of the buildings that served as one of the alley’s mighty walls and found it hanging limply by the hinges, not surprising for this area of the port city. Th...

CHAPTER 14: I’M SO SORRY MONDAY, APRIL 27, 1992 PATROL BASE SYMPHONY, COSTA RICA 1443 HRS. The flight over the Caribbean coast was normally an exciting and breathtaking sight, but none of the Black Hawk’s occupants considered the tranquil view on this flight. There was none of the fidgety chatter or horseplay that was commonly seen among soldiers and there were no words, as each man’s attention was focused on anything but those riding with him. Centuries of war and fallen so...

CHAPTER 13: JUMPING IN EARLY SUNDAY, APRIL 27 1992 PATROL BASE SYMPHONY, TALAMANCA MOUNTAINS, COSTA RICA   0615 HRS. The C17A Globe Master circled around to begin its landing approach. Captain Ted Nealy and First Sergeant Gary Easterling stepped out from the CP (Command Post), and looked to the sky. They casually looked on as the large four engine jet passed overhead. “Looks like the Cowboy’s have arrived,” Nealy said sarcastically. “Have Second Platoon standing ...

CHAPTER 12: HERE I AM THURSDAY, MARCH 6 1992 FAYETTEVILLE, ARKANSAS   2230 HRS. Located in the secluded Weddington Woods community, the house sat on top of a large wooded hill. The drive was long and winding, and the home was extravagant. Boyd Newberry never wanted for anything his entire life. His father was in the entertainment industry, and moved his son to Arkansas to remove him from the trouble the West Coast had to offer. However, his business was still on the coast, keeping him o...