Traveller Manifesto
39. Turkey - Today

Turkey – Today.

Osborne was determined to have everything squared away before he went on leave. The rest of the team had been evaluated by the usual egg-heads who spent days looking over the top of their glasses as they took their notes. Even Professor Taylor had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress but seemed to get hold of his grief and accept the hazards that could be dished out in fields of conflict.

He had surprised them all.

Mac, on the other hand, was another issue. He was diagnosed with severe PTSD, not surprising as he had not only killed the Varangians like he had, but had also been injured in that knife-fight. Knife-fight! Of all of the damned, impetuous acts, that was the most unpredicted. Sure, he understood Mac and Erol’s fury at the deaths of their comrades on that patrol. He suspected that Mac blamed himself for being outfoxed into accompanying the Varangian patrol in the first place. Despite that, the fight had been as sensational as it had been foolhardy, especially as it had been only visible as half illuminated bodies and shadows. Some of the lads had edited the footage and adjusted the contrast so they could see more of what happened. Mac’s fight would doubtlessly end up as one of many Special Force’s instructional videos on the importance of knife skills. The Varangian had been exceptionally proficient and some of his techniques would help improve what was, to many, a combat skill too often overlooked.

Chuck and Hami wandered in. They had just returned to the Byzantium Traveller base at Ilidag and were in the process of tidying up. Most of the men and women involved in the mission were already on leave, while the last Travellers on the ground had been returned to the 21st Century. For the first time in months, the forest behind the old 11th Century olive orchard was abandoned.

“How’s it all going?” asked Osborne as Chuck and Hami took their seats in front of his desk.

“You’ve never seen anything so funny,” chuckled Chuck evilly. “Poxon, the silly shit! You know how he has his fluff from New Zealand currently on her way. Well, I think he’s had an attack of the guilts for all of his pussy action in Kusadasi and old Constantinople.”

“Why? What’s he up to now?” asked Osborne with a smile. Poxon was a legendary soldier but some of the things he got up to were almost as celebrated. His pranks were a source of amusement and wonder.

“He got himself a kitten,” continued Hami.

“What, one of the new ones? From the black cat who hangs around the kitchen?” asked Osborne.

“Yeah! That’s it!” crowed Chuck with his signature hilarity. “He’s been caring for it, feeding it and even taking it to bed with him so it will be used to snuggling in.”

“He even had it sleep above his head, on the pillow” added Hami.

“Oh Christ, I hope it didn’t give him ringworm,” replied Osborne in concern.

“No, funnier than that,” replied Chuck. “He fell asleep last night with the little thing draped over his head, you know, and when he woke up this morning, it was dead!” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Osborne pulled a face of incredulity. He had only just taken a kitten from the same litter.

“The funniest thing,” laughed Chuck, who could no longer keep it together, “was that rigor mortis had set in and it was stiff and frozen in the shape of his head.”

Despite himself, Osborne had to laugh. Poxon would have deserved it. His stunts were one of the things that had made the mission as enjoyable as it was.

“Yeah,” exclaimed Hami. “What an idiot! Jeese, we’ll miss him though. His farts during yoga were legendary.”

“Him and bloody Parker,” added Chuck. “Never heard such a pair of fart-arses.”

As they laughed along, Chuck identified the new plaque on Osborne’s desk.

“Fuck me, look at that!” gasped Chuck dramatically. “Fucking Colonel! They didn’t leave you at Major for too long did they?”

Hami chuckled his falsetto giggle that had Osborne scowl and then reluctantly smile.

“Just the luck of the draw, my old mate,” he replied. “Seems the world now deems it appropriate that the officer in charge of any Traveller mission should be a Lieutenant Colonel. I can’t help it if I just happen to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Yeah, bullshit!” groused Chuck. “You did a fucking great job and you know it. The whole world does. You managed to keep the political pricks out of it while at the same time you fed their egos and kept our ship on an even keel.”

Osborne gave a grunt of disagreement. “Gotta be there at the right time, Chuck me old mate. I was lucky we had great support from the Turks and that I had the best trainers for the crew involved. Thanks to the great job from all of you, they like us. It’s all just publicity in the long run, isn’t it? The Turks wanted me to be a Colonel, so the ADF (Australian Defence Force) agrees. They don’t care, because it’s great PR and makes everyone happy. Fuck knows what I’ll do back on Oz, but I have to take the moment, as they say.”

“What will that mean boss?” asked Hami. “Do you have to go through all of the usual officer rigmarole, you know, like War College and all that?”

Osborne looked up with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, probably. Pity you blokes won’t take the commissions you’ve been offered, you could share in the misery.”

Chuck gave a snort of derision. “No way. Be a bloody officer? I’d rather work for a living. I’ll leave all of the poncy stuff to you.”

“Okay, play it your way. But the promotions are there if you want them.” He absently tapped his teeth with the tip of his pen. “I’ll probably have to go to a War College. It’s all part of the path to tread, though Traveller Missions are now recognised by many as a fast-track to promotion.” He sighed. “As the flavour of the moment, I’ll see if I can go somewhere nice, just to get away from you pricks for a while.”

Chuck gave a bark of amusement. “Well, we’re all off to Kusadasi for R&R. Even Mac will be there for a bit. Silly bastard can’t dance much now, but he never could anyway. His leg wound will probably be an improvement. At least we can look after his Zoe for a bit, I s’pose. Ya want to catch a lift with us? Princess Prudence will fly us there later today.”

Osborne looked up and gave a small frown. “No, you blokes go ahead. I’m going to Konya. I have someone to visit there.”

“Why the bloody hell are you going to Konya?” growled Chuck. “C’mon, it will do you good to spend a few days with the lads.”

Hami frowned as he watched Osborne, then looked to Chuck, incredulous. “Bro. Will you shut up?” he asked quietly.

Chuck rounded on him. “Why? I was just askin’.”

Hami sighed and Osborne stifled a smile. The canny ladies’ man had obviously spotted his growing relationship with their previously recalcitrant helicopter pilot. Chuck had simply put her growing compliance down to good management by himself and the rest of the training team.

“Sorry mate,” smiled Osborne. “I’ll get together with you blokes before you head off home. I’ve got other matters that I need to sort out.”

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