Becoming Mrs. Pleasure

Dan looked every bit the military man even out of uniform in his navy blue jacket and banker's gray paints. Tall and good looking, the dark haired officer was what every army officer should look like.

"Thank you for coming," Sara said.

"Sorry, I didn't think of this myself and way sooner," He said.

They split a bottle of merlot over two reasonable steaks. They were nearly finished and ready for an adjournment to a well-appointed room before Sara raised the matter that brought her.

"When you were in Afghanistan did you ever meet or hear of an officer named Richard Pleasure."

Dan stopped eating and gazed at Sara with a look of pure disgust.

"Why ask such a question?" he demanded.

"I—I, my best friend is married to him, and I just thought—"

"Tell her to run for the exit," said Dan sitting rigidly straight.

"Please, I need to know more than that."

Dan turned away from her and looked blankly across the hotel lobby as he began his story.

___________________________________________

Overnight there had been an action in the mountains. No one was sure what had happened. There were four casualties, so a report was needed. Dan had just been promoted to Major and was taking his responsibilities seriously. He didn't get to the field much, and this seemed a good opportunity for a trip close to the action.

The pilot of the Lakota was not thrilled by the landing site or being in the higher less safe elevations. An RPG or even a missile could appear from any of the surrounding outcrops. But Dan insisted, and they set down.

The rangers were in a reverse crescent. They were holding a high ridge of rock above a narrow valley. The mountain sloped steeply behind them. They occupied a high defensive position as if they were expecting an attack. But only madmen would attack such a position. The copter set down in the shadow of the ranger pickets.

"We can't stay here long major," the pilot said as Dan jumped out.

He landed on hard rocky ground with no welcoming committee in site. No one came to greet them, but Dan found a small trail and began walking towards where he could hear voices. There were a group of enlisted men kicking a rag ball on the rocky hillside. On the other side of the narrow trail, three men stood in a group. There were two black sergeants and a white man who wore no insignia but was clearly the man in charge of the little group. They were arguing about something as he approached.

"So we just sit here," the taller of the two black men said.

"Maybe you want to go and give Bloody Rick your thought on the situation," the white officer said.

At that point, the conversation stopped as they caught sight of Dan.

Coming up on them, he demanded, "Who's in charge here, and don't you men salute a senior officer?"

The three men looked at him like he was a Martian.

"Well, "Dan demanded having received no reply.

"Lieutenant Jack Williams," the white man introduced himself and then the taller of the black men, "this is Sergeant Dennis Johnson."

"And my colleague Tom Chapman acting sergeant. We're sorry but you kind of surprised us," Johnson said.

"Didn't you men hear my helicopter?" Dan asked.

"Sound travels odd in these mountains. Just ask him," Chapman said nodding down to where the rag ball had stopped a few feet from them.

Dan looked down to see the ball was actually a man's head still wrapped in a head scarf. It took all Dan's discipline to stand there and not react.

Williams stepped forward and gave the head a kick back to where the men were playing.

"Hard to find one just the right shape," Williams said with a shrug like that would excuse the barbaric action.

"Are you aware of the rules of engagement?" Dan said.

Now the three men laughed as if his words were a jest.

"Where is your commanding officer?" Dan demanded.

"Down there," Williams said pointing to where the trail sloped sharply downward.

"Well take me to him."

"Sorry, but I like my head just where it is. Bloody Rick is in one foul mood. My advice Major is to go back to Kabul or wherever and leave well enough alone. We can't leave or we would in a heartbeat," Williams said to nods of agreement from the sergeants.

Since his authority had no effect on these men, Dan had no choice but to proceed down the trail alone. About fifty yards on he came to a turn. On the other side, he found a group of four men heaping bodies on top of a wood pile.

"I think we may need more wood, There's a lot of bodies," said the corporal in charge.

"Ain't got no more," a man at the bottom of the pile said.

"What are you men doing," Dan inquired."

"Building a bonfire," the corporal said.

"Stop that immediately. It is prohibited by the rules of engagement," Dan ordered.

"Sorry, Captain's orders."

"I'm a major."

"Well, he's Bloody Rick. Ain't he," said the man closest to Dan causing the others to laugh.

"Where can I find Captain Pleasure," Dan called to the corporal.

The men pointed to where a group of battered trees grew out of the rocky slope. It was about thirty yards further on, and a lone figure stood to stare at something across the narrow valley.

Captain Rick Pleasure was drinking coffee out of a large metal cup when Dan found him.

"Captain Richard Pleasure I need to speak to you," Dan said.

There was no response.

"Captain I'm Major Sutherland from GHQ. Here to—"

Dan froze as a pair of dead blue eyes turned on him.

"Rick, not Richard. He is long gone," Rick said.

"I must inform you that burning bodies is against the Muslim faith."

Rick looked Dan up and down from his well-polished boots along his neatly washed fatigues to the crisp brim of the cap on his head. Rick Pleasure was worn and rumpled with the wear of battle. One hand resting on his sidearm and the other holding coffee that was no longer hot.

"That's the point," Rick said coolly, "It's an act of disrespect. An insult that can't be ignored," Rick said, but he might have been talking to himself.

"My fault, I moved too quick last night. Several dozen got away. The trap was good but the execution less than perfect. Tonight we'll have them. They'll come for revenge," he said with a certainty in his voice.

Dan was speechless. He was standing on a barren mountainside with a madman. "But the rules of engagement," Dan said.

s Rick wasn't listening, only talking to himself, "I understand the men, it's the women who confuse me. See them over there, the little black figures. They're mourning their men. He pointed across the narrow valley to where figures could be seen wearing the traditional Burqa.

"Their husbands, brothers, and sons we murdered last night. They cover themselves head to toe. I wonder if even their husbands see them naked. The men beat them, abuse them in every way including mutilating their genitals, and the best they can hope for is to be worked to death. Yet, there they are mourning the bastards. Is it love or something else? Well, it's not my job to solve riddles. I just murder people," with that he poured the rest of his coffee out and turned to walk away.

"Corporal Peterson, How the fuck long does it take to light a fire," Rick Pleasure shouted.

"Sorry sir, almost ready. No excuse. Be done in a minute," the corporal said the fear evident in his voice.

Dan stood frozen as Bloody Rick walked up the hill. A moment later the flames shot up so high and so hot that Dan wondered whether some accelerant was used. He was hit by a wall of heat followed by the stench of burning flesh. He swore he could hear a wailing coming from the other side of the valley.

In that instant, Dan knew the Muslim men would come seeking revenge and shouting the name of their God. Brave men come to be slaughtered against an impregnable position. More women would cry and mourn, and Bloody Rick would shake his head and go on to set another murderous trap.

Dan returned to Kabul believing the report he would make would ensure the removal of Richard Pleasure from command. The General listened and thanked him for his efforts. Then the general's aide saw him out.

"But what about Captain Pleasure? What about the rules of engagement? " Dan asked the aide.

The man gave Dan a meaningful look, "Bloody Rick stays right where he is unless you're volunteering to replace him."

"But surely there is some consequence for his actions."

The general's aide smiled, "With any luck, the enemy will resolve that for us."

By the time Dan had finished his story the food had grown cold and they had lost their appetites. All thoughts of adjourning to a room had fled. Sara had no idea what to say.

"I don't tell people about that day. It's not the norm. We don't...."

"I must go. I need to warn Lynsey," Sara said.

She tried calling, but Lynsey's cell was not answering. Nor was it accepting messages. Sara's drive back north was well above the speed limit, but she managed it without being stopped. Her first destination was the Rodmen/Pleasure home, in Loudon estates. The house was dark and only Lynsey's car sat in the driveway. She was gone but to where?

_____________________________________________

The house at 10 Everett road was finished. Rick Pleasure had done most of the work himself with some help from his new friends Franks and Heinz. It was a good house. The very house you would expect a high school teacher and junior varsity coach to live in.

The house for a peaceable man returned from the war to settle in and raise his family. The house and home he had earned by enduring in the face of adversity. It didn't come without effort and some degree of cunning. But it was all working out. He had put Afghanistan behind him with all its pain and suffering. Now it was softball in the spring and golf in the summer. Time to relax and enjoy life as only those who have come through hell can truly do.

Rick was seated in his newly reupholstered chair. Lynsey knelt by his feet. She was naked except for her pink collar. Her back side showed the marks of her most recent beating. Rick looked down at her. Gone was the self-assured executive. The woman who had whored herself to get ahead and the cougar who had stalked stupid young men were equal missing. Only the weak, helpless female remained to kneel at her master's feet.

Rick took a sip of coffee. It was dark and hot the way he liked it. Lynsey had made and served the coffee. She was becoming quite domestic, but it was time for her test.

"Lynsey pay attention. Your punishment is over you can take your collar off and go. We are done you don't need to come here anymore," he said.

Her hands shot to her neck but then they fumbled. As hard as she tried her hands could not remove the collar. A tear ran down her cheek. She was caught. Her mind was demanding that she return to the life she had, but her body refused to cooperate.

"I can't," she finally said giving up.

"So you want to remain here with me?"

"Yes, I have to—But what about Richard."

Rick's face softened with his deep feeling as he showed pity for the first time in their relationship. He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he began, "Richard was lost a long time ago in Afghanistan. There is only me now."

Lynsey sobbed, and more tears fell, but she could only nod her head realizing at last and for the first time, there was nothing but truth between them.