Brushes With Death (3/5)
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two
Part Three - Cho
This was something he’d been trained to do, but that didn’t stop the nerves from fluttering in the pit of his stomach. It was also meant to be his way of getting some structure, some discipline back into his life after years of chaos. He had also promised his mother that he would at least try and get back on the straight and narrow. Cho was sick of the sorrowful look in her eyes, the fact that she looked so disappointed in her only son, her only child, each and every time she saw him. Besides, it had been his father who had destroyed his baseball career before it had even had a chance to blossom, and it had been such a long while ago now.
It was time to let bygones be bygones. He couldn’t live his life based on regrets and disappointments. Cho needed something more solid, more tangible. Besides, the Avon Park Playboys were pushing the boundaries further and further. And he was growing distant from what they did; he was developing a moral backbone. He needed to get out.
The army had been his first thought and he hadn’t regretted it in an instant. The training was tough and pushed him to his very limits, but he’d dug his feet in and excelled. He wanted to make his mom proud, to apologize for all the heartache and misery he’d caused her. He wanted to pay back his country for the damage he’d caused; show that he was proud his parents had emigrated from Korea to the United States.
And even though he’d attempt to deny it, he still wanted that little bit of a thrill, the one that a life of crime had given him. This was the closest replica he could get to it through legal means.
However, that didn’t stop him from wondering if this was the right idea. The people in this country, had they wanted to go to war with the superpower that was America? Why was America fighting them and making them an enemy, anyway? As far as he knew, it wasn’t due to the fact that there was some untold evil there, but oil. That was all. Just resources and he was expected to kill for the country over them.
This was the kind of thing he’d been attempting to escape.
Still, he clutched hold of his rifle tightly and followed his sergeant major dutifully. They had been given a task to do and though he didn’t necessarily agree with the morality behind it, he was going to carry it out to the best of his ability. After all, that was what he was being paid to do. A job. That was all being a soldier in the army was. And at least he was being paid for it, unlike in his previous lifestyle where he just took what he wanted, regardless of the consequences.
It didn’t take long for them to get involved in a fray. They’d been trying to take control of one of the towns approximately five miles out from camp, with little success. It was closer to the oil supply than some of the towns they’d already succeeded in getting hold of and thus, a necessary requirement for the task in hand. Cho hated the fighting; there was so much less bloodshed involved in just talking and debating between political leaders. It was a shame that there had to be the loss of life in order to get people to wake up to such issues. Once upon a time, he would have been too blinded to understand that concept, but now he appreciated the fact. He was able to view things more rationally, with less childhood angst and rage than he’d once had.
A shot came whistling past his ear and embedded itself in a nearby van. He ducked behind a crumbling wall and caught his breath. That was close; too close for comfort, really. Cho held onto his rifle tightly. He’d fired a gun on many an occasion, but this was the first time he’d used it in combat and for a supposedly honorable reason. The ironic thing was that his mother was so proud of her son for doing this, when she’d been so ashamed of him running with the Playboys. However, the end result was exactly the same: somebody would land up dying. It was just one was seen as being good in the eyes of the country and its citizens and the other was seen as being one hundred percent illegal.
Eventually, he steeled himself and peeked over the wall. One of the enemy was nearby, just behind a hillock. He noticed the man staring outwards, trying desperately to make his shot. A quick scan of the horizon suggested that this was the last man standing; that their adversaries had just been a small group of freedom fighters, making a last-ditch effort to make a stand. Cho closed his eyes as he squeezed the trigger tightly. The other man had attempting to fire at precisely the same moment, but Cho’s reactions had been quicker.
A groan of agony and the thump of flesh hitting sandy soil suggested that he had hit his target with practiced ease. That it had taken just the one shot to end the life of another human being. One who had just been trying to defend himself and his town.
When the sergeant major shouted clear, Cho quickly made his way to the body. His eyes were stinging slightly, but he stubbornly ignored it. Now was not the time or place to get emotional. Besides, he’d had it drilled into him since he was small that men simply did not show their emotions if they wanted to honor the family name.
“Iceman, you okay?”
He looked up at his colleague and friend, Private Simon Marshall and nodded dourly. Cho hadn’t told any of them to call him Iceman, nor had he informed them of his dubious history. That was private. Instead, he briefly wondered if the whole world really considered him to have a heart of steel. Otherwise, why would they have continually picked the same nickname for him again and again?
“Yup. He’s dead.”
“I could have told you that.”
Cho offered a silent prayer for the deceased as the guilt began to set in. All he’d been doing was trying to protect his country from the invading forces and yet, he’d been forced to pay with his life for it. He didn’t expect anyone to hear his words asking for forgiveness or for the man he’d just killed, but he’d heard that it may have made him feel better.
It didn’t.
His words, however, didn’t go unnoticed. Death stood beside the fallen soldier and inclined his skeletal head ever so slightly towards the man. He’d been present at Cho’s other killings, the ones he’d carried out during his time with the Playboys. Each time he’d been heartless, merciless in the act of murder and seemed to shrug it off without a second thought.
Death hated seeing such a lack of mercy and it had made him count the days until Cho would be the one to meet the sharp end of his scythe.
However, this incident had softened him. Had made him realize that death always had a very human cost. Somewhere, out there, this man would have a family that would be mourning him. Maybe even a son and a daughter who would be wondering why daddy wasn’t going to be coming home. The guilt alone had made him more human, rather than a machine rather akin to the golems back on Discworld. Remorse was always a very honorable trait, especially when found hand in hand with those wielding power.
It made Death wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was hope for Kimball Cho yet.
Death left Cho and his colleague to get on with their task. He didn’t need to see anymore, not today. Instead he turned on his heels and headed towards his trusted steed. Binky whinnied slightly as his master approached him and waited calmly for Death to mount. After scratching his faithful horse a little on the nose, he did so with practiced ease.
It was time for them to go home and besides, there was something about Roundworld which made Binky ever so slightly nervous. Probably something to do with the fact he was a significantly larger creature and found it harder to cope with the different gravity field.
To Part Four
Part Three - Cho
This was something he’d been trained to do, but that didn’t stop the nerves from fluttering in the pit of his stomach. It was also meant to be his way of getting some structure, some discipline back into his life after years of chaos. He had also promised his mother that he would at least try and get back on the straight and narrow. Cho was sick of the sorrowful look in her eyes, the fact that she looked so disappointed in her only son, her only child, each and every time she saw him. Besides, it had been his father who had destroyed his baseball career before it had even had a chance to blossom, and it had been such a long while ago now.
It was time to let bygones be bygones. He couldn’t live his life based on regrets and disappointments. Cho needed something more solid, more tangible. Besides, the Avon Park Playboys were pushing the boundaries further and further. And he was growing distant from what they did; he was developing a moral backbone. He needed to get out.
The army had been his first thought and he hadn’t regretted it in an instant. The training was tough and pushed him to his very limits, but he’d dug his feet in and excelled. He wanted to make his mom proud, to apologize for all the heartache and misery he’d caused her. He wanted to pay back his country for the damage he’d caused; show that he was proud his parents had emigrated from Korea to the United States.
And even though he’d attempt to deny it, he still wanted that little bit of a thrill, the one that a life of crime had given him. This was the closest replica he could get to it through legal means.
However, that didn’t stop him from wondering if this was the right idea. The people in this country, had they wanted to go to war with the superpower that was America? Why was America fighting them and making them an enemy, anyway? As far as he knew, it wasn’t due to the fact that there was some untold evil there, but oil. That was all. Just resources and he was expected to kill for the country over them.
This was the kind of thing he’d been attempting to escape.
Still, he clutched hold of his rifle tightly and followed his sergeant major dutifully. They had been given a task to do and though he didn’t necessarily agree with the morality behind it, he was going to carry it out to the best of his ability. After all, that was what he was being paid to do. A job. That was all being a soldier in the army was. And at least he was being paid for it, unlike in his previous lifestyle where he just took what he wanted, regardless of the consequences.
It didn’t take long for them to get involved in a fray. They’d been trying to take control of one of the towns approximately five miles out from camp, with little success. It was closer to the oil supply than some of the towns they’d already succeeded in getting hold of and thus, a necessary requirement for the task in hand. Cho hated the fighting; there was so much less bloodshed involved in just talking and debating between political leaders. It was a shame that there had to be the loss of life in order to get people to wake up to such issues. Once upon a time, he would have been too blinded to understand that concept, but now he appreciated the fact. He was able to view things more rationally, with less childhood angst and rage than he’d once had.
A shot came whistling past his ear and embedded itself in a nearby van. He ducked behind a crumbling wall and caught his breath. That was close; too close for comfort, really. Cho held onto his rifle tightly. He’d fired a gun on many an occasion, but this was the first time he’d used it in combat and for a supposedly honorable reason. The ironic thing was that his mother was so proud of her son for doing this, when she’d been so ashamed of him running with the Playboys. However, the end result was exactly the same: somebody would land up dying. It was just one was seen as being good in the eyes of the country and its citizens and the other was seen as being one hundred percent illegal.
Eventually, he steeled himself and peeked over the wall. One of the enemy was nearby, just behind a hillock. He noticed the man staring outwards, trying desperately to make his shot. A quick scan of the horizon suggested that this was the last man standing; that their adversaries had just been a small group of freedom fighters, making a last-ditch effort to make a stand. Cho closed his eyes as he squeezed the trigger tightly. The other man had attempting to fire at precisely the same moment, but Cho’s reactions had been quicker.
A groan of agony and the thump of flesh hitting sandy soil suggested that he had hit his target with practiced ease. That it had taken just the one shot to end the life of another human being. One who had just been trying to defend himself and his town.
When the sergeant major shouted clear, Cho quickly made his way to the body. His eyes were stinging slightly, but he stubbornly ignored it. Now was not the time or place to get emotional. Besides, he’d had it drilled into him since he was small that men simply did not show their emotions if they wanted to honor the family name.
“Iceman, you okay?”
He looked up at his colleague and friend, Private Simon Marshall and nodded dourly. Cho hadn’t told any of them to call him Iceman, nor had he informed them of his dubious history. That was private. Instead, he briefly wondered if the whole world really considered him to have a heart of steel. Otherwise, why would they have continually picked the same nickname for him again and again?
“Yup. He’s dead.”
“I could have told you that.”
Cho offered a silent prayer for the deceased as the guilt began to set in. All he’d been doing was trying to protect his country from the invading forces and yet, he’d been forced to pay with his life for it. He didn’t expect anyone to hear his words asking for forgiveness or for the man he’d just killed, but he’d heard that it may have made him feel better.
It didn’t.
His words, however, didn’t go unnoticed. Death stood beside the fallen soldier and inclined his skeletal head ever so slightly towards the man. He’d been present at Cho’s other killings, the ones he’d carried out during his time with the Playboys. Each time he’d been heartless, merciless in the act of murder and seemed to shrug it off without a second thought.
Death hated seeing such a lack of mercy and it had made him count the days until Cho would be the one to meet the sharp end of his scythe.
However, this incident had softened him. Had made him realize that death always had a very human cost. Somewhere, out there, this man would have a family that would be mourning him. Maybe even a son and a daughter who would be wondering why daddy wasn’t going to be coming home. The guilt alone had made him more human, rather than a machine rather akin to the golems back on Discworld. Remorse was always a very honorable trait, especially when found hand in hand with those wielding power.
It made Death wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was hope for Kimball Cho yet.
Death left Cho and his colleague to get on with their task. He didn’t need to see anymore, not today. Instead he turned on his heels and headed towards his trusted steed. Binky whinnied slightly as his master approached him and waited calmly for Death to mount. After scratching his faithful horse a little on the nose, he did so with practiced ease.
It was time for them to go home and besides, there was something about Roundworld which made Binky ever so slightly nervous. Probably something to do with the fact he was a significantly larger creature and found it harder to cope with the different gravity field.
To Part Four