Writing Exercise

The other day I had started with a writing exercise. The scene script/outline was posted. Tonight, I offer up the first of the two book scenes that the script described, even if inadequately.

The company area housed the offices, the common area, and the unit's bar area. It wasn't a beautiful set up, but it worked. It was a useable area and considered a secure area. That meant that, in order to get past the front door, one had to have either a clearance or an escort. Yes, the crew had standing orders to shoot unauthorized personnel. Friday and Saturday nights, though, the entire set up became party central for the Intelligence Unit.

Mark stood back and enjoyed a drink and a smoke while listening to the music, conversations, and the laughter. Tonight was no different. Someone had even invited some British cooks in for the fun. Some of the French troops were rotating out and needed to make points with the kitchen staff. The French were planning a big spread for their going away party. Things were pretty much on par for a Friday night.

One of the British cooks, Scott Coates, was tossing darts at the board near the bar. Everybody had noticed that Scott still smelled a bit like the kitchen after a long day. The cooks were generally fitting in and having fun. It was obvious that the three were feeling more than a bit cocky. Why shouldn't they? They had been invited to party in a classified area. An area that has also earned a reputation for wild parties. The Commandant of the base had shut them down for 30 days after one party went on till nearly daylight when all taps are to be shut off at midnight. Tonight, everyone was happily drunk.

Mark had stepped back out into the Common Area for a cigarette. Shorts, who had been working with Mark saw that he was agitated. Shorts and Mark had worked together for a few weeks until the Captain had switched up the teams. Mark had been a bit off since he had been partnered up. Shorts figured that Mark was learning the new turf. Maybe Mark was figuring out some new angles. That would be how Mark worked.

Shorts came up to Mark and bummed a cigarette for himself. “Mark, don't look so tense, man.” Mark just answered with a grunt. “Are you going over things in your head about last week? Or is it this week's coming meetings?”

Mark considered the question quietly. There was no way he could tell anyone that, since being teamed up with Josie, an Army Captian, they had been having sex. Military laws held a high penalty for all parties participating in fraterniizing. Just the other morning, before going to their first meeting he stopped Leslie when she was on her way out to get a shower. Her body was warm and soft against his. Now, Scott was getting a little handy with Josie. She was laughing. It wasn't really laughter, it was more Josie being polite and fake laughing. To anyone sober and objective that distinction would have been obvious, but Mark was neither of those at the moment.

Mark exhaled heavily, “Yeah, the week's meetings, something like that.”

“Alright, look, this is a party. You are going to at least smile. I order you to smile and enjoy things tomight.” Mark smiled a little, in spite of himself. That was not to last long.

Scott laughed loudly at something he had said. The booming laughter caught Mark's attention. Josie was standing near Scott, “Wow! You Brits really are fun guys!”

Scott stepped toward Josie and threw his arms out to grab Josie. “Right! Come 'ere and give us a hug!” Scott grabs her in his large, fat arms and pulls her to his side. Josie tries to stay at his side and give him a half hug. Smelling his sweat and beer breath, Josie tried to pull back as quickly as she could manage when Scott said, “Give us a kiss now, eh?

Mark was about to step in and throw some punches when the front door to the building slammed shut. Butters, a Marine Hand to Hand Combat instructor, came in. Butter's had that look again, he wanted to fight. Butters had even started the unit's own little Fight Club.

“I need to roll! Who do we have here tonight?” the people who were milling about in the Common Area were smoking and enjoying drinks. Not one of them was felling the urge to fight, except for Mark.

Having heard that there were also fights that happened from time to time the Brits looked up. Scott's attention was immediately drawn away from Josie by the door slamming and the call for a fight.

'How about you officiating a fight?” As he asked the question Mark smiled a sick smile. Shorts looked at the smile and the look in Mark's eyes, “That is disturbing. Mark, I order you to NOT smile again.”

Butters nodded slightly, “Who do you want to call out, Mark?” Butters had no idea what was going to happen.

“I'm callind out one of our guests. Scott, you wanna play?”

Having been in his share of drunken fights Scott was not about to turn this one down. He turned a bit and took a fighting stance. Josie had pulled away from Scott and was digesting what was just said. Scott accepted the challenge witha grim smile, “Right, I've heard about yer l'il fight club. Sure, i'll play.”

As usual, Butters started going over the rules. “No punches, this is only grappling. Choke and joint locks only ... “ But, he did not get to finish the rules, Mark and Scott each stepped towards eacn other.

“Oy, no punches? Shit, that ain't no fun. We 're gonna throw a few, eh?” It was more of a comment than a question. Mark smiled and nodded slightly.

Scott moved slow and threw a sloppy schoolyard haymaker that was easily ducked. Mark stepped in and stood up with a left uppercut that did not d much more than grab Scott's attention. He lowered his hands a little to protect himself from another body blow. Mark followed the first punch with a hard and fast right hook that went over Scott's arm. The hook caught Scott at the back of the jaw bone and stunned him. Mark sotated slightly and swung his left fist as hard as he could with another hook. When the punch landed Scott went down, he dropped hard onto the floor. He was knocked out .

Evevryone was shocked. Their fights were clean, good training, and for the ego. No one ever took it personally. Well, not for long. No one ever got knocked out or injurred. Butters was pissed. He leapt at Mark. “Shit, God-Damn, Mark! You know the rules! What the hell were you thinking?” The Marine did not come out very often, but it did then. He stood toe to toe with Mark shouting straight into Mark's face.

Mark considered Scott, who was being helped up by his friends. The noise brought everyone out of the bar to see what was going on. Neither Butters nor Mark wanted to see the fight club end.

“Sorry, Butters. You saw it, Scott threw first.” Mark looked over at the other two British cooks. “You gents need a hand with your friend?”

One of the two answered, “No, thanks, mate. We got 'im” They helped Scott regain some level of consciousness. It was enough for him to get out the front door and on his way.

While the Brits were leaving Mark stepped into the bar. He was shaking with the thrill of that little scuffle. He grabbed two neers from the fridge and downed the first one quickly. He opened his other drink as Butters and Josie came up.

Butters was still angry. More so, he was worried about his friend, “I think you might have had enough to drink.” Mark stood there with his beer. “You KNOW the rules of our club, what the fuck was that?”

“He swung first, you saw it.” Mark dodged the question. He did know the rules. For nothing other than jealousy Mark had knocked a guy out cold and he knew it. Mark would never admit it, but he had been jealous.

Most evevryone in the unit participated in the fighting. It was great exercise, good fun, and an extremely great way to relieve stress. Also, Butters had to give his word that no ont was going to get hurt doing these fights. The Captain and he had written the rules and made their understanding clear prior to the fights starting. Something like this could easily land Butters' ass in front of the Captain. “Damnit! If the Captain catches wind of this your ass is done Mine, too.”

Josie stepped between Butters and Mark. 'Mark, I really think that you need to put that beer down and go back to your room.” Placing both hands on Mark's drink and hand she gently, but strongly pulled at the beer. Mark allowed her to take the beer.

Mark responded flatly, “Sure, right. Whatever.” Mark stepped around his two friends and ledt by the back door. He knew it was wrong to knocj Scott out. He knew that he was drunk. He also knew he wanted another drink and maybe even another fight. Halfway to his quarters, though, Mark was feeling the adrenaline from the fight draining his energy. That and the beers were making him very tired. Mark accepted that sleep was what he needed.

Josie watched Mark leave. She watched him go avross the gravel parking lot and head towards the enlisted quarters. She wanted to follow him, to see that he got to his room without any trouble. She was also worried that, if she did, their physical relationship might get them both into trouble. She hoped that he would come back in the late morning with nothing to say about this might's events.



(C) Copyright Marc Trepanier