Drabble: Serendipity in a 'Nam Brawl
OOC Note: Inspired by the picture below of Mark Harmon's son, which got me to thinking of Jack as a teenager. This may or may not be canon, I haven't decided yet. Cameos by several Team X characters, only one of whom I actually got permission to use for. Guess which one. ^_^ Better to ask forgiveness than permission. 
There were many things Jack hated about Vietnam, but most of all it was the heat that got to him. He’d grown up where snow lasted up to six months out of the year. Now, he was stuck hoofing it through humidity so thick he was sure he could have taken out his knife and cut holes in it. Between that and the gear he was lugging around with him, it felt like he had taken a bath with his clothes still on from the amount of sweat coming out of his system. Still, there were worse places to be in the world. Being back home in the world’s smallest town, under the thumb of two older brothers and an overbearing father for one.
Instead, he was lugging a gun that he was sure weighed as much as he did through a godforsaken jungle. As it turned out, while everyone back home had always found his shooting abilities to be a waste of time, the Army found out just how useful a skill it was the nineteen year old possessed. He could shoot just about anything pointed at him, whether a man or a squirrel. So he had become a sniper, shipped off on vague missions that he never fully understood. A helicopter would drop his squad off, their one job to look out for him while Jack took out whatever intended target had been assigned to him. Get in, shoot the SOB, get out. Simple enough.
It had been another successful mission, and now his squad leader was attempting to find their rendezvous point with the helicopter. Attempt being the key word. Jack privately wondered if he’d find it before the war was over. They were now near a small stream, when they had passed none on their way in. But the young man’s musings were interrupted by a hand signal. Someone had heard something, and so the group of boys who were not quite yet men dropped to the ground without a sound. Jack eased his gun forward, ready to take out whoever came out of the brush ahead of them.
Minutes seemed to last hours, the sweat beading up on his forehead. Jack didn’t dare wipe it away, his hands on his gun. Then the first figure appeared through the trees. It was like looking into a mirror, the same camouflage patterned clothing and tons of useless gear. The tension slowly eased out of the group in wait like helium from a balloon.
His leader moved forward to talk with the commander of the other squad, telling his men to take a knee in the meantime. It just went to show how sloppily organized the war had become, with neither group knowing the other had been in the area. It wouldn’t have been the first time. As the commanders went on and on, both comparing notes, the men of both began to relax more. Jack stripped off some of the gear he was carrying, knowing he’d just have to pick it up in another five minutes.
Hot and sweaty as he was, and with the stream not more than twenty five feet away, Jack decided to go splash some water on his face to cool off. As he got up, he crashed into what felt like a tree trunk made of muscle. The impact almost sent him falling to the ground, but Jack regained his footing. He looked up at a very annoyed face framed by a pair of impressive mutton chops. It was a solider from the other squad. “Watch it yourself, meathead.” The fact the man before him towered over him by a good six inches and looked like he could literally tear Jack apart if he wanted to should have caused some fear in the teen. Unfortunately, Jack seemed to have trouble with the concept his mouth running faster than his brain.
“What did you say to me, you little shit?” The deep voice of the other solider growled out. Had Jack been looking down, he would have noticed the ragged fingernails growing out an inch. But while that striking detail escaped his notice, Jack did see the overly long canines in the man’s mouth which made him look like a reject from a horror film.
He could have backed down right then and there, perhaps saving his skin if not his pride. But Jack just stared up at the man with not a speck of fear in his bright blue eyes. “I said watch where you’re going, you stupid mangy asshole.” If he was going to get himself into trouble, might as well do it good and proper.
One of the giant meat hooks of the other man shot out, and Jack waited for the impact. But another voice cut through the air which made the giant pause. “Victor, leave the kid alone.” Now some guy with possibly the weirdest haircut Jack had ever seen decided to butt in. Honestly, how did that thing even manage to stay in the air? It was like gravity defying or something.
Jack just stared, keeping his head on a swivel as he looked from one soldier to the other. “You stay outta this, pal. It’s between me and Sasquatch here.” When would he ever learn? Another opportunity to keep himself in one piece and he was spitting on it. There was no way he could win, full of attitude, snark, and not much else.
“See, Jimmy? The runt is asking for it.” Victor sneered out. It was clear he had no intention of backing down no matter what anyone said.
The runt comment stung Jack, but only a little. He was no shrimp, but after a lifetime of being teased by his brothers had left him with a thick skin. “Better than lookin’ like you. Did your momma marry a bear or was she as inbred and ugly as you are?” Victor didn’t even bother with a reply, merely letting out a roar like an angry bull and lashing out at his smaller opponent with the claws that Jack finally noticed.
Jack dodged the blows, kicking out at Victor’s legs, knocking him to the ground. Tackling the other man, the two wrestled around, trading punches. Jack held up surprisingly well against Victor, at least for a minute or two. Then he ended up pinned beneath his much larger opponent. The rest of the two squads watched with interest as Victor began to beat the teenager within an inch of his life with no signs of stopping.
“Victor! NO!” He felt more than he saw Jimmy and another soldier pull the struggling opponents apart. The other had a hold of him, while James had grabbed Victor.
Jack glanced at the one holding him. He was dark haired and even younger looking than Jack. His eyes blazing with temper, he struggled mightily. “Let go of me! Let me at ‘em!” Victor, consumed by rage, broke loose from his brother’s grip. But Jack, anticipating the punch, was able to duck. The blow landed on Teddy’s jaw and he staggered for a moment. Then he regained his sense, and came out swinging at the feral mutant. A few seconds later Jimmy tossed whatever caution was left to the wind and joined in the fight.
Much as with players on sports team, if only two people were brawling, everyone kept out of it, but if another joined, it became a free for all. Such was what happened to both squads. Before long, men all over the clearing were punching, biting, kicking, and generally attempting to cause as much bodily harm without killing each other.
Order was finally restored with a simultaneous gunshot from both commanders. Everyone paused, from Jack, who was still doing his damndest against Victor, to Teddy, who had somehow ended up on the other side of the camp with his opponent trying to bite his ear off. For starting an all out brawl, both men should have been severely punished. Fortunately for Jack and Victor, both were too valuable to their respective companies to garner much more than a slap on the wrist each. The two teams departed on their separate ways. Though none of the men involved would remember it almost forty years later, Victor’s last snarling words, directed at the teen who would one day hunt him down like an animal were eerily prophetic. “This ain’t over between us. Not by a long shot.”
There were many things Jack hated about Vietnam, but most of all it was the heat that got to him. He’d grown up where snow lasted up to six months out of the year. Now, he was stuck hoofing it through humidity so thick he was sure he could have taken out his knife and cut holes in it. Between that and the gear he was lugging around with him, it felt like he had taken a bath with his clothes still on from the amount of sweat coming out of his system. Still, there were worse places to be in the world. Being back home in the world’s smallest town, under the thumb of two older brothers and an overbearing father for one.
Instead, he was lugging a gun that he was sure weighed as much as he did through a godforsaken jungle. As it turned out, while everyone back home had always found his shooting abilities to be a waste of time, the Army found out just how useful a skill it was the nineteen year old possessed. He could shoot just about anything pointed at him, whether a man or a squirrel. So he had become a sniper, shipped off on vague missions that he never fully understood. A helicopter would drop his squad off, their one job to look out for him while Jack took out whatever intended target had been assigned to him. Get in, shoot the SOB, get out. Simple enough.
It had been another successful mission, and now his squad leader was attempting to find their rendezvous point with the helicopter. Attempt being the key word. Jack privately wondered if he’d find it before the war was over. They were now near a small stream, when they had passed none on their way in. But the young man’s musings were interrupted by a hand signal. Someone had heard something, and so the group of boys who were not quite yet men dropped to the ground without a sound. Jack eased his gun forward, ready to take out whoever came out of the brush ahead of them.
Minutes seemed to last hours, the sweat beading up on his forehead. Jack didn’t dare wipe it away, his hands on his gun. Then the first figure appeared through the trees. It was like looking into a mirror, the same camouflage patterned clothing and tons of useless gear. The tension slowly eased out of the group in wait like helium from a balloon.
His leader moved forward to talk with the commander of the other squad, telling his men to take a knee in the meantime. It just went to show how sloppily organized the war had become, with neither group knowing the other had been in the area. It wouldn’t have been the first time. As the commanders went on and on, both comparing notes, the men of both began to relax more. Jack stripped off some of the gear he was carrying, knowing he’d just have to pick it up in another five minutes.
Hot and sweaty as he was, and with the stream not more than twenty five feet away, Jack decided to go splash some water on his face to cool off. As he got up, he crashed into what felt like a tree trunk made of muscle. The impact almost sent him falling to the ground, but Jack regained his footing. He looked up at a very annoyed face framed by a pair of impressive mutton chops. It was a solider from the other squad. “Watch it yourself, meathead.” The fact the man before him towered over him by a good six inches and looked like he could literally tear Jack apart if he wanted to should have caused some fear in the teen. Unfortunately, Jack seemed to have trouble with the concept his mouth running faster than his brain.
“What did you say to me, you little shit?” The deep voice of the other solider growled out. Had Jack been looking down, he would have noticed the ragged fingernails growing out an inch. But while that striking detail escaped his notice, Jack did see the overly long canines in the man’s mouth which made him look like a reject from a horror film.
He could have backed down right then and there, perhaps saving his skin if not his pride. But Jack just stared up at the man with not a speck of fear in his bright blue eyes. “I said watch where you’re going, you stupid mangy asshole.” If he was going to get himself into trouble, might as well do it good and proper.
One of the giant meat hooks of the other man shot out, and Jack waited for the impact. But another voice cut through the air which made the giant pause. “Victor, leave the kid alone.” Now some guy with possibly the weirdest haircut Jack had ever seen decided to butt in. Honestly, how did that thing even manage to stay in the air? It was like gravity defying or something.
Jack just stared, keeping his head on a swivel as he looked from one soldier to the other. “You stay outta this, pal. It’s between me and Sasquatch here.” When would he ever learn? Another opportunity to keep himself in one piece and he was spitting on it. There was no way he could win, full of attitude, snark, and not much else.
“See, Jimmy? The runt is asking for it.” Victor sneered out. It was clear he had no intention of backing down no matter what anyone said.
The runt comment stung Jack, but only a little. He was no shrimp, but after a lifetime of being teased by his brothers had left him with a thick skin. “Better than lookin’ like you. Did your momma marry a bear or was she as inbred and ugly as you are?” Victor didn’t even bother with a reply, merely letting out a roar like an angry bull and lashing out at his smaller opponent with the claws that Jack finally noticed.
Jack dodged the blows, kicking out at Victor’s legs, knocking him to the ground. Tackling the other man, the two wrestled around, trading punches. Jack held up surprisingly well against Victor, at least for a minute or two. Then he ended up pinned beneath his much larger opponent. The rest of the two squads watched with interest as Victor began to beat the teenager within an inch of his life with no signs of stopping.
“Victor! NO!” He felt more than he saw Jimmy and another soldier pull the struggling opponents apart. The other had a hold of him, while James had grabbed Victor.
Jack glanced at the one holding him. He was dark haired and even younger looking than Jack. His eyes blazing with temper, he struggled mightily. “Let go of me! Let me at ‘em!” Victor, consumed by rage, broke loose from his brother’s grip. But Jack, anticipating the punch, was able to duck. The blow landed on Teddy’s jaw and he staggered for a moment. Then he regained his sense, and came out swinging at the feral mutant. A few seconds later Jimmy tossed whatever caution was left to the wind and joined in the fight.
Much as with players on sports team, if only two people were brawling, everyone kept out of it, but if another joined, it became a free for all. Such was what happened to both squads. Before long, men all over the clearing were punching, biting, kicking, and generally attempting to cause as much bodily harm without killing each other.
Order was finally restored with a simultaneous gunshot from both commanders. Everyone paused, from Jack, who was still doing his damndest against Victor, to Teddy, who had somehow ended up on the other side of the camp with his opponent trying to bite his ear off. For starting an all out brawl, both men should have been severely punished. Fortunately for Jack and Victor, both were too valuable to their respective companies to garner much more than a slap on the wrist each. The two teams departed on their separate ways. Though none of the men involved would remember it almost forty years later, Victor’s last snarling words, directed at the teen who would one day hunt him down like an animal were eerily prophetic. “This ain’t over between us. Not by a long shot.”