No, thank you!jemhouston wrote: ↑Wed Jul 24, 2024 1:16 amIt was too late in 1939. You wonder what would have happened if Germany went Communist and allied with the USSR?
A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
28 December 1987
Tangiers Casino
Las Vegas, NV
All of the ladies of the ACHERNAR ring were working that night, so Sophie decided to play some blackjack.
Sophie had one simple rule for playing blackjack: Don't shit where you eat and sleep.
She stepped into the Tangiers' gaming room and headed for the blackjack tables.
And swore under her breath when she saw Michael Fontini talking to someone who looked like the Head Guy What's In Charge.
Fontini brightened and waved her over.
"Ace, this is Chief Warrant Officer Sophie Henrix. She's an Air Force special operations officer. Sophie, this is Sam Rothstein, nicknamed Ace. He's our consultant on gaming operations."
Rothstein blinked, then said, "MIT?"
"Until the war started."
"A Markov Chain Analysis of Advantage Play in Blackjack, right?"
Sophie sighed. "Well, there goes my plans for the evening."
Fontini said, "Not so fast, young lady. You don't cheat, right?"
Rothstein said, "Look, Mike, if she can actually implement the strategy she outlined in that paper--which is one hell of a longshot, admittedly--she doesn't need to cheat, the house would be running about a four percent disadvantage against her."
Sophie was scanning the floor.
Ace asked, "See something interesting?"
"I always like to know who's who in the zoo, sir. Might save my life. Ivan's willing to pay twenty grand, American, for my scalp."
Fontini laughed. "Yeah. Any finook dumb enough to think that's a lot of money deserves to die."
Rothstein nodded. "I clear that in maybe half an hour. And usually don't have to bust anyone's head in. I run a clean operation. Yes, there's house advantage, but everyone knows it going in. We don't cheat. If you win, you win."
"Definite advantage to playing it straight, sir."
"Hey, c'mon, call me Ace. I actually worked the math in your paper, no need to be that formal."
Sophie gave Ace a lopsided grin. "Ace, are you trying charm me out of my panties? If you are, it's not working."
Ace chuckled. "Can't blame a guy for trying, can you?"
Sophie laughed. "No, but I'd probably end up killing you--nothing personal. My boyfriend's a combat controller, he's about the only man who has the stamina to hang with me."
Ace smiled. "Ah, but what a way to go."
Sophie kept her expression neutral.
Ace blinked, then said, "Jesus, you're actually serious."
"When it comes to math, shooting, tactics, fieldcraft, writing software, hot fudge sundaes, and sex, I am 100% serious. Anything less than that simply will not do, gentlemen."
The two men laughed awkwardly.
Sophie continued her scan, then suddenly said, "Gentlemen, I think you have a cheating ring operating in here. Light blue uniform shirt, my ten o'clock. Lots of lavender chips."
Fontini said, "$500 apiece."
Sophie said, "And he just won again."
Ace said, "Ms. Henrix, I have work to do."
"When you haul them back, I need to be there. And you need the CSPs as well."
Ace nodded. "Fair enough."
Sophie grabbed a seat at another table and waited to buy in. She played small--no chips bigger than $20--and she turned it on and off, making plausible bets that lost every now and then, sometimes big, sometimes small.
She kept part of her mind on the cards, and another on the casino floor. She ignored the waitresses bringing out a birthday cake to her dealer and focused on the floor boss standing behind an Airman 1st Class who had a clear line of sight to the dealer at the table the lieutenant was playing at.
And giggled when the floor boss smoothly produced a cattle prod and shocked the idiot right at the bottom of his spinal cord, then put it away before the Airman hit the floor.
Casino security moved in. "MAN DOWN, POSSIBLE CARDIAC ARREST!"
The Lieutenant racked his chips and got up, and Sophie had to resist the urge to bare her fangs when she saw his face.
Tulsa Teddy himself!
She continued playing, and was up about $250 when a man in a gray suit said, "Chief Henrix, I'm Billy Sherbert, the casino manager. Mr. Fontini and Mr. Rothstein have asked for the pleasure of your company at dinner."
Sophie stood up and collected her chips, tossing a $20 chip to the dealer, who gave her a delighted smile. The manager said, "We can drop those off at the cashier's window and give you a receipt."
"Lead on. Any chance we can grab a deck of playing cards?"
Sherbert nodded. "Mr. Rothstein said it's your show."
* * *
Sophie walked into the room and saw four people--three enlisted men and the officer. A guard was revving a circular saw and yelling, "CHEATER'S JUSTICE!"
She bared her teeth and tossed a Jack of Hearts onto the table in front of the "officer," who stared at it as if it were a viper.
"Tulsa Teddy Keeler himself, Jack of Hearts on the 23rd Air Force Traitor's Deck. From proud secret police officer and rapist to pulling penny ante scams in casinos in less than a year. How they mighty have fallen. You might remember me. I'm the team leader who waltzed in and talked the bombs onto the AWACS maintainer barracks at Tulsa International, and walked right back out without PSD ever getting eyes on me. Bet Ivan loved you for that."
The "lieutenant" collapsed, sobbing.
"Put on your big boy pants, you pathetic sack of shit." She turned to the enlisted men. "You know, there are two kinds of pain in this world. There's the pain that hurts . . . and the pain that alters. Tonight, you idiots get to choose. Either you cough up high quality info on PSD operations in Vegas, or I leave you to the tender mercies of Mr. Fontini and Mr. Rothstein."
She winked at the casino guard with the saw, and he revved it again with a broad smile.
* * *
As the CSPs loaded the four PSD operatives into the paddy wagon, Rothstein puffed meditatively on his cigarette and said, "After that little show you put on, the hard part's going to be getting them to shut the fuck up."
Sophie grinned, and Rothstein winced.
"Can I borrow your floor manager's cattle prod?"
Fontini chuckled. "I don't know if you scare the enemy, but by God, you scare me."
Sophie smiled. "Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington."
Fontini smiled. "Christopher Plummer was amazing in Waterloo."
Rothstein chuckled. "May have been a little before her time, Mike."
"Actually, I saw it at Naval Air Station Memphis early on in the war. You're right, Mr. Fontini, Plummer was awesome."
Fontini nodded. "Look . . . Sophie, you're all right. We don't get hacked off over advantage players as long as they don't get too greedy. It's obvious you just play for fun--I guess to enjoy the math and the psychology. Just don't try to bust the entire damn bank, okay?"
Sophie smiled. "Fair enough."
* * *
Tangiers had a good old-fashioned pool room, with tables under bright lights. A bar ran along one side of the room.
Sophie was at the bar, watching the action.
Ace said, "You play?"
Sophie nodded. "It's a fun exercise in real-world physics and math."
"Shit, you're a pool hustler, too?"
Sophie sipped her 7&7 and said, "I held my own in Cambridge."
Fontini slapped down a hundred dollar bill down onto the bar.
Sophie pulled out her wallet, pulled out a Benjamin of her own, slapped it on his, and said, "Fight's on!"
* * *
Sophie drove the pool cue forward smoothly, and the cue ball rocketed across the table into the 1 ball . . . and stopped dead. All of its momentum went into the racked balls.
Fontini scored first with the 12 ball, but then misjudged the angle on the follow-up. Sophie walked around the table, seeing vectors, then took a shot at the 2, knocking it into the side pocket, then took a bank shot that sank the 4, and then scratched with a somewhat chancy shot on the 7.
Fontini was feeling the pressure, and ended up scratching in the 14. Sophie in turn collected the 6, then just missed sinking the 1. Fontini got back with the 9, 13, and 15, then whiffed a bank shot on the 10 and ended up scratching the 1.
Ace chuckled. "Giving her an assist?"
Fontini just shook his head, mouthed, Where the hell did she come from? to Rothstein, then mopped his forehead with a cocktail napkin.
Sophie sank the 3 and the 5, then said, "8 ball in the corner pocket," tapping it with her cue. She started lining up a bank shot.
Fontini pulled out another $100 bill. "You make that shot, and I'll--"
Sophie smacked the cue ball with authority, banked it off of the far cushion, threaded it dead center between the 10 and the 11, with perhaps a quarter inch on each side.
The cue ball kissed the side of the 8 ball with just enough force to knock it into the corner pocket.
Fontini said, "Well, I'll be damned."
Ace held his hand out, and Fontini handed over the second $100 bill.
Ace handed the $300 pot to Sophie.
Fontini looked at Sophie.
"You held your own?" His voice was dubious.
Sophie nodded. "I was middle of the pack. Remember, MIT has some serious math and physics guys. The pool table's really a laboratory. There was a guy in the class of '84 who was an absolute beast, he'd run the table practically from the break. I never did beat him."
Fontini sighed. "Sounds like the place breeds assassins."
* * *
Billy Sherbert handed Sophie her money and watched her tuck it into her wallet.
"Uh, ma'am, Vegas can be a bit chancy after dark--"
Fontini said, "Billy, she doesn't wear the .45 just for show."
Sophie smiled, turning on the charm. "No offense taken, gentlemen."
She pulled out a $20 and handed it to Sherbert. "Thank you an enjoyable time at the table this evening."
Sherbert actually blushed. "Ah, thank you, ma'am, that's very kind."
Sophie left Tangiers with a broad grin. Playing pool for a C-Note with a member of the Outfit. Who'd believe it?
Tangiers Casino
Las Vegas, NV
All of the ladies of the ACHERNAR ring were working that night, so Sophie decided to play some blackjack.
Sophie had one simple rule for playing blackjack: Don't shit where you eat and sleep.
She stepped into the Tangiers' gaming room and headed for the blackjack tables.
And swore under her breath when she saw Michael Fontini talking to someone who looked like the Head Guy What's In Charge.
Fontini brightened and waved her over.
"Ace, this is Chief Warrant Officer Sophie Henrix. She's an Air Force special operations officer. Sophie, this is Sam Rothstein, nicknamed Ace. He's our consultant on gaming operations."
Rothstein blinked, then said, "MIT?"
"Until the war started."
"A Markov Chain Analysis of Advantage Play in Blackjack, right?"
Sophie sighed. "Well, there goes my plans for the evening."
Fontini said, "Not so fast, young lady. You don't cheat, right?"
Rothstein said, "Look, Mike, if she can actually implement the strategy she outlined in that paper--which is one hell of a longshot, admittedly--she doesn't need to cheat, the house would be running about a four percent disadvantage against her."
Sophie was scanning the floor.
Ace asked, "See something interesting?"
"I always like to know who's who in the zoo, sir. Might save my life. Ivan's willing to pay twenty grand, American, for my scalp."
Fontini laughed. "Yeah. Any finook dumb enough to think that's a lot of money deserves to die."
Rothstein nodded. "I clear that in maybe half an hour. And usually don't have to bust anyone's head in. I run a clean operation. Yes, there's house advantage, but everyone knows it going in. We don't cheat. If you win, you win."
"Definite advantage to playing it straight, sir."
"Hey, c'mon, call me Ace. I actually worked the math in your paper, no need to be that formal."
Sophie gave Ace a lopsided grin. "Ace, are you trying charm me out of my panties? If you are, it's not working."
Ace chuckled. "Can't blame a guy for trying, can you?"
Sophie laughed. "No, but I'd probably end up killing you--nothing personal. My boyfriend's a combat controller, he's about the only man who has the stamina to hang with me."
Ace smiled. "Ah, but what a way to go."
Sophie kept her expression neutral.
Ace blinked, then said, "Jesus, you're actually serious."
"When it comes to math, shooting, tactics, fieldcraft, writing software, hot fudge sundaes, and sex, I am 100% serious. Anything less than that simply will not do, gentlemen."
The two men laughed awkwardly.
Sophie continued her scan, then suddenly said, "Gentlemen, I think you have a cheating ring operating in here. Light blue uniform shirt, my ten o'clock. Lots of lavender chips."
Fontini said, "$500 apiece."
Sophie said, "And he just won again."
Ace said, "Ms. Henrix, I have work to do."
"When you haul them back, I need to be there. And you need the CSPs as well."
Ace nodded. "Fair enough."
Sophie grabbed a seat at another table and waited to buy in. She played small--no chips bigger than $20--and she turned it on and off, making plausible bets that lost every now and then, sometimes big, sometimes small.
She kept part of her mind on the cards, and another on the casino floor. She ignored the waitresses bringing out a birthday cake to her dealer and focused on the floor boss standing behind an Airman 1st Class who had a clear line of sight to the dealer at the table the lieutenant was playing at.
And giggled when the floor boss smoothly produced a cattle prod and shocked the idiot right at the bottom of his spinal cord, then put it away before the Airman hit the floor.
Casino security moved in. "MAN DOWN, POSSIBLE CARDIAC ARREST!"
The Lieutenant racked his chips and got up, and Sophie had to resist the urge to bare her fangs when she saw his face.
Tulsa Teddy himself!
She continued playing, and was up about $250 when a man in a gray suit said, "Chief Henrix, I'm Billy Sherbert, the casino manager. Mr. Fontini and Mr. Rothstein have asked for the pleasure of your company at dinner."
Sophie stood up and collected her chips, tossing a $20 chip to the dealer, who gave her a delighted smile. The manager said, "We can drop those off at the cashier's window and give you a receipt."
"Lead on. Any chance we can grab a deck of playing cards?"
Sherbert nodded. "Mr. Rothstein said it's your show."
* * *
Sophie walked into the room and saw four people--three enlisted men and the officer. A guard was revving a circular saw and yelling, "CHEATER'S JUSTICE!"
She bared her teeth and tossed a Jack of Hearts onto the table in front of the "officer," who stared at it as if it were a viper.
"Tulsa Teddy Keeler himself, Jack of Hearts on the 23rd Air Force Traitor's Deck. From proud secret police officer and rapist to pulling penny ante scams in casinos in less than a year. How they mighty have fallen. You might remember me. I'm the team leader who waltzed in and talked the bombs onto the AWACS maintainer barracks at Tulsa International, and walked right back out without PSD ever getting eyes on me. Bet Ivan loved you for that."
The "lieutenant" collapsed, sobbing.
"Put on your big boy pants, you pathetic sack of shit." She turned to the enlisted men. "You know, there are two kinds of pain in this world. There's the pain that hurts . . . and the pain that alters. Tonight, you idiots get to choose. Either you cough up high quality info on PSD operations in Vegas, or I leave you to the tender mercies of Mr. Fontini and Mr. Rothstein."
She winked at the casino guard with the saw, and he revved it again with a broad smile.
* * *
As the CSPs loaded the four PSD operatives into the paddy wagon, Rothstein puffed meditatively on his cigarette and said, "After that little show you put on, the hard part's going to be getting them to shut the fuck up."
Sophie grinned, and Rothstein winced.
"Can I borrow your floor manager's cattle prod?"
Fontini chuckled. "I don't know if you scare the enemy, but by God, you scare me."
Sophie smiled. "Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington."
Fontini smiled. "Christopher Plummer was amazing in Waterloo."
Rothstein chuckled. "May have been a little before her time, Mike."
"Actually, I saw it at Naval Air Station Memphis early on in the war. You're right, Mr. Fontini, Plummer was awesome."
Fontini nodded. "Look . . . Sophie, you're all right. We don't get hacked off over advantage players as long as they don't get too greedy. It's obvious you just play for fun--I guess to enjoy the math and the psychology. Just don't try to bust the entire damn bank, okay?"
Sophie smiled. "Fair enough."
* * *
Tangiers had a good old-fashioned pool room, with tables under bright lights. A bar ran along one side of the room.
Sophie was at the bar, watching the action.
Ace said, "You play?"
Sophie nodded. "It's a fun exercise in real-world physics and math."
"Shit, you're a pool hustler, too?"
Sophie sipped her 7&7 and said, "I held my own in Cambridge."
Fontini slapped down a hundred dollar bill down onto the bar.
Sophie pulled out her wallet, pulled out a Benjamin of her own, slapped it on his, and said, "Fight's on!"
* * *
Sophie drove the pool cue forward smoothly, and the cue ball rocketed across the table into the 1 ball . . . and stopped dead. All of its momentum went into the racked balls.
Fontini scored first with the 12 ball, but then misjudged the angle on the follow-up. Sophie walked around the table, seeing vectors, then took a shot at the 2, knocking it into the side pocket, then took a bank shot that sank the 4, and then scratched with a somewhat chancy shot on the 7.
Fontini was feeling the pressure, and ended up scratching in the 14. Sophie in turn collected the 6, then just missed sinking the 1. Fontini got back with the 9, 13, and 15, then whiffed a bank shot on the 10 and ended up scratching the 1.
Ace chuckled. "Giving her an assist?"
Fontini just shook his head, mouthed, Where the hell did she come from? to Rothstein, then mopped his forehead with a cocktail napkin.
Sophie sank the 3 and the 5, then said, "8 ball in the corner pocket," tapping it with her cue. She started lining up a bank shot.
Fontini pulled out another $100 bill. "You make that shot, and I'll--"
Sophie smacked the cue ball with authority, banked it off of the far cushion, threaded it dead center between the 10 and the 11, with perhaps a quarter inch on each side.
The cue ball kissed the side of the 8 ball with just enough force to knock it into the corner pocket.
Fontini said, "Well, I'll be damned."
Ace held his hand out, and Fontini handed over the second $100 bill.
Ace handed the $300 pot to Sophie.
Fontini looked at Sophie.
"You held your own?" His voice was dubious.
Sophie nodded. "I was middle of the pack. Remember, MIT has some serious math and physics guys. The pool table's really a laboratory. There was a guy in the class of '84 who was an absolute beast, he'd run the table practically from the break. I never did beat him."
Fontini sighed. "Sounds like the place breeds assassins."
* * *
Billy Sherbert handed Sophie her money and watched her tuck it into her wallet.
"Uh, ma'am, Vegas can be a bit chancy after dark--"
Fontini said, "Billy, she doesn't wear the .45 just for show."
Sophie smiled, turning on the charm. "No offense taken, gentlemen."
She pulled out a $20 and handed it to Sherbert. "Thank you an enjoyable time at the table this evening."
Sherbert actually blushed. "Ah, thank you, ma'am, that's very kind."
Sophie left Tangiers with a broad grin. Playing pool for a C-Note with a member of the Outfit. Who'd believe it?
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Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Even when Sophie's off, she's on. A night on the town, made some money at the casino, and oh, btw, some PSD scum get cleaned up.
She needs to get to Sheppard before too long.
She needs to get to Sheppard before too long.
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
- jemhouston
- Posts: 3837
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Meyer Lansky said, "You need to be an honest crook."
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
The freaking Mob (Vegas Edition) likes her? My God in Heaven…
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
- jemhouston
- Posts: 3837
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
I think it's more respect her. She could clean them out until they kick her out. I think they would let her play for a while to get the rubes thinking they could do the same.
Not to mention she help them get someone Uncle Sam wanted.
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
They respect her ability, her self-restraint, and her honesty. Ace is going to have to do some serious math to figure out a counter for her system that (a) regains enough house advantage to be economically viable and (b) complies with Nevada Gaming Commission regulations for table games.jemhouston wrote: ↑Sat Jul 27, 2024 12:54 pmI think it's more respect her. She could clean them out until they kick her out. I think they would let her play for a while to get the rubes thinking they could do the same.
Not to mention she help them get someone Uncle Sam wanted.
Some casinos treat every dollar as if it's theirs, and throw out advantage players on sight. Tangiers takes a different line: if you're a good player, they'll allow you to play within certain limits (which Sophie never came close to). A hot table always draws players looking to get a piece of the action.
Cheaters are pure scum, and every casino and player hates them.
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
And Sophie made it abundantly clear through her actions that she wasn’t going to try to find that limit…
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
-
- Posts: 2710
- Joined: Thu Nov 17, 2022 2:27 pm
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Not just getting thrown out though. There are lots of other ways to have your fun limited, especially if you enjoy the play and the atmosphere and less the winning.
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
29 December 1987
TVD Amerika Headquarters
San Antonio, TX
Marshal Kribov, Commander-in-Chief of the Southern Theater, looked at his deputy, General Alekseyev, and his deputy for intelligence, General Dudorov.
"Pasha, what in the hell happened last night?"
Alekseyev sighed. "General Danilov warned us this was coming. The Americans are now looking to gain superiority in theater nuclear forces, and we weren't ready for the opening move. I've already issued orders for the surviving forces to displace to new hide sites--and to stay away from geodetic benchmarks. We grew careless, and the Americans made us pay for it. We've lost about 45% of the ready force--and a large number of decoys."
Kribov sighed. "Any good news?"
Dudorov took his cue. "The Americans are still keeping their forces north of Interstate 70. So they're not able to capitalize on this. The Lamantin trucks are still able to detect and track their forces if they head south."
* * *
29 December 1987
Carnival Court Nightclub
Las Vegas, NV
Sophie high-fived Roxy Skye and Traci Lords. "Hey, amigas!"
Traci smiled. "We found you a date."
Roxy said, "Don't worry, she's with it."
Sophie nodded.
Traci smiled. "And there she is!" She waved her hand above her head.
Sophie's date was a trim and fit redhead she vaguely recognized.
The redhead smiled at Sophie. "Marianne Barnhardt."
Sophie smiled back.
Roxy said, "She was briefly in the biz in mid-85, and then she got picked up for General Sam's Flying Circus."
Sophie blinked. "You're not in the biz any more?"
Barnhadt chuckled. "I'm an ER nurse at the UNLV Medical Center. Sam Lodge made me keep my nursing credential and told me no more smut, he needed sources in the hospitals."
Sophie felt her emotions shift slightly.
What's that about?
* * *
They were sharing an appetizer plate, chatting about themselves, listening to the music, and occasionally dancing together.
Traci and Roxy decided to hit the restroom together.
Sophie gave Marianne a speculative look.
Oh, Marianne . . . I could see us together.
Sophie was surprised to see Marianne laugh.
"Oh, no, honey, no way."
Sophie asked, "Gay for pay?"
"No, I'm thoroughly bisexual, dear. But . . . look, you're my type. I mean, really my type."
Marianne paused, sipped her drink, then said, "The type I can fall for, and not by just a little bit. I like to pretend I'm a sex-positive feminist who can easily hold her own, and then someone like you comes along and utterly destroys that self-image. You're an alpha female--no, you're the alpha female. One tumble in the sack with you and I'd become your perfect little wifey, give up my job and follow you from post to post, have dinner ready when you get home, and raise any children we have or adopt. I just can't afford that in wartime."
Sophie chuckled. "Good God, that sounds like what I'd like with Adam after the war's over."
Marianne nodded, then made a goo-goo-eyed face. "I noticed you being like this--"
"I did not get goo-goo eyes talking about Adam."
Roxy came back from the restroom and said, "Actually, you did."
"Seriously?"
Roxy nodded.
Marianne laughed, then said, "Keep your man away from Vegas, honey. I swear to God, if he can make an alpha chick like you swoon like that, he'd get me ovulating in spite of the Nexplanon implant, and I'd be popping out babies for him every nine months for the next fifteen years."
"Who says you'd be screwing him?"
Marianne said, "I didn't. Dear God, if I actually slept with him? I'd be dropping litters of twins and triplets, and I wouldn't go menopausal until my seventies!"
All four of them laughed.
* * *
Roxy asked, "Why do cops and soldiers fall for nurses, anyway?"
Marianne chuckled. "The cynical answer is that they want someone who can bandage them up and get them back into the fray." She signaled the waitress for a refill, and Sophie did likewise. "But the real answer is . . . they need what the nurse has."
Traci asked, "What's that?"
"The power of nurturing. Nursing is, ultimately, about helping in restoring and preserving health. That's part of the reason the field is dominated by women. Meanwhile, the soldier or police officer is the protector--which is why those fields are overwhelmingly male--and that is something women, especially those who deal with the sick or injured, respond to in kind. Same goes for schoolteachers. Again, it's the protector/nurturer dynamic in play."
The waitress brought Marianne and Sophie their drinks.
"So I'm trying to get in touch with my nurturing side with Adam?"
Marianne nodded. "Oh, hell, yes! You're smart enough to not compete with him on the basis of professional skill or whatever. You have a nurturing side, Sophie. I saw it when I heard about von Roon."
"Damn it."
"Honey, anyone who hurts kids generates a massive overreaction from anyone who's a decent human being. Call it evolutionary psychology. The drive to protect the young is part of our survival kit for this here damp rock we're riding."
* * *
Heart's "Strangers of the Heart" came on.
Sophie looked at Marianne. "May I have this dance?"
Marianne's eyes were almost luminous. Finally, she nodded slightly.
They stepped onto the dance floor.
And for a moment, Sophie just was.
Through the mist on the harbor
Dancing lights on the water
Shadows move, I see you smilin' again
When I reach out to touch you
Like a ghost lookin' through me
Sendin' chills deep into me
Shattered dreams fallin' like teardrops again
As you make me remember
Strangers of the heart
Always safe with words unspoken
Strangers of the heart
Don't take chances, they'll get broken
No matter where you are
Hear me tonight
I don't want to be strangers at heart
Broken glass of my mirror
Makes my eyes see much clearer
You and I only a whisper away
Never tellin' each other
Strangers of the heart
Always safe with words unspoken
Strangers of the heart
Don't take chances, they'll get broken
No matter where you are
Hear me tonight
I don't want to be strangers at heart
Strangers of the heart
Always safe with words unspoken
Strangers of the heart
Don't take chances, they'll get broken
No matter where you are
Hear me tonight
I don't want to be strangers at heart
* * *
They were on the deck overlooking the street.
"Marianne . . . in another life . . . "
"I know." Marianne let out a long sigh.
"Look, Sophie . . . maybe you don't make it. Maybe you do. Maybe Adam doesn't make it. Maybe he does. I am hoping and praying that you both make it."
She paused, then said, "If one or the other of you doesn't . . . well, I'll reach out through General Lodge."
"What makes you so sure you'd be okay with Adam?"
"The smartass answer? Honey, I wanted to jump Sam Lodge's bones the moment we met. The Lodge menfolk are very, very manly, dear. The serious answer? Sophie . . . tell me you don't feel the connection between us."
Sophie sipped her 7&7, then said, "Well, I could do that, but I'd be lying."
"Exactly. I feel that same connection. If you don't make it . . . I'll help Adam grieve, and take it from there. Maybe it happens. Maybe it doesn't."
"And if he doesn't make it?"
"Then find me . . . claim me . . . and make me your little wifey.” Marianne dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin, then said, "And this is where I really do have to say good night, because you are far too much temptation for me to handle."
Marianne kissed Sophie on the cheek, then got up and left.
Sophie sat there for a long time.
Finally, a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to see Roxy and Traci with concerned expressions.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, I guess. Just . . . too close to the heart, I guess."
Roxy said, "I didn't realize--"
Sophie clasped Roxy's hand in hers. "I know, Roxy."
* * *
They'd ended up in Traci's bed, just cuddling together and occasionally crying on each other's shoulders.
Sleep eventually overtook them.
TVD Amerika Headquarters
San Antonio, TX
Marshal Kribov, Commander-in-Chief of the Southern Theater, looked at his deputy, General Alekseyev, and his deputy for intelligence, General Dudorov.
"Pasha, what in the hell happened last night?"
Alekseyev sighed. "General Danilov warned us this was coming. The Americans are now looking to gain superiority in theater nuclear forces, and we weren't ready for the opening move. I've already issued orders for the surviving forces to displace to new hide sites--and to stay away from geodetic benchmarks. We grew careless, and the Americans made us pay for it. We've lost about 45% of the ready force--and a large number of decoys."
Kribov sighed. "Any good news?"
Dudorov took his cue. "The Americans are still keeping their forces north of Interstate 70. So they're not able to capitalize on this. The Lamantin trucks are still able to detect and track their forces if they head south."
* * *
29 December 1987
Carnival Court Nightclub
Las Vegas, NV
Sophie high-fived Roxy Skye and Traci Lords. "Hey, amigas!"
Traci smiled. "We found you a date."
Roxy said, "Don't worry, she's with it."
Sophie nodded.
Traci smiled. "And there she is!" She waved her hand above her head.
Sophie's date was a trim and fit redhead she vaguely recognized.
The redhead smiled at Sophie. "Marianne Barnhardt."
Sophie smiled back.
Roxy said, "She was briefly in the biz in mid-85, and then she got picked up for General Sam's Flying Circus."
Sophie blinked. "You're not in the biz any more?"
Barnhadt chuckled. "I'm an ER nurse at the UNLV Medical Center. Sam Lodge made me keep my nursing credential and told me no more smut, he needed sources in the hospitals."
Sophie felt her emotions shift slightly.
What's that about?
* * *
They were sharing an appetizer plate, chatting about themselves, listening to the music, and occasionally dancing together.
Traci and Roxy decided to hit the restroom together.
Sophie gave Marianne a speculative look.
Oh, Marianne . . . I could see us together.
Sophie was surprised to see Marianne laugh.
"Oh, no, honey, no way."
Sophie asked, "Gay for pay?"
"No, I'm thoroughly bisexual, dear. But . . . look, you're my type. I mean, really my type."
Marianne paused, sipped her drink, then said, "The type I can fall for, and not by just a little bit. I like to pretend I'm a sex-positive feminist who can easily hold her own, and then someone like you comes along and utterly destroys that self-image. You're an alpha female--no, you're the alpha female. One tumble in the sack with you and I'd become your perfect little wifey, give up my job and follow you from post to post, have dinner ready when you get home, and raise any children we have or adopt. I just can't afford that in wartime."
Sophie chuckled. "Good God, that sounds like what I'd like with Adam after the war's over."
Marianne nodded, then made a goo-goo-eyed face. "I noticed you being like this--"
"I did not get goo-goo eyes talking about Adam."
Roxy came back from the restroom and said, "Actually, you did."
"Seriously?"
Roxy nodded.
Marianne laughed, then said, "Keep your man away from Vegas, honey. I swear to God, if he can make an alpha chick like you swoon like that, he'd get me ovulating in spite of the Nexplanon implant, and I'd be popping out babies for him every nine months for the next fifteen years."
"Who says you'd be screwing him?"
Marianne said, "I didn't. Dear God, if I actually slept with him? I'd be dropping litters of twins and triplets, and I wouldn't go menopausal until my seventies!"
All four of them laughed.
* * *
Roxy asked, "Why do cops and soldiers fall for nurses, anyway?"
Marianne chuckled. "The cynical answer is that they want someone who can bandage them up and get them back into the fray." She signaled the waitress for a refill, and Sophie did likewise. "But the real answer is . . . they need what the nurse has."
Traci asked, "What's that?"
"The power of nurturing. Nursing is, ultimately, about helping in restoring and preserving health. That's part of the reason the field is dominated by women. Meanwhile, the soldier or police officer is the protector--which is why those fields are overwhelmingly male--and that is something women, especially those who deal with the sick or injured, respond to in kind. Same goes for schoolteachers. Again, it's the protector/nurturer dynamic in play."
The waitress brought Marianne and Sophie their drinks.
"So I'm trying to get in touch with my nurturing side with Adam?"
Marianne nodded. "Oh, hell, yes! You're smart enough to not compete with him on the basis of professional skill or whatever. You have a nurturing side, Sophie. I saw it when I heard about von Roon."
"Damn it."
"Honey, anyone who hurts kids generates a massive overreaction from anyone who's a decent human being. Call it evolutionary psychology. The drive to protect the young is part of our survival kit for this here damp rock we're riding."
* * *
Heart's "Strangers of the Heart" came on.
Sophie looked at Marianne. "May I have this dance?"
Marianne's eyes were almost luminous. Finally, she nodded slightly.
They stepped onto the dance floor.
And for a moment, Sophie just was.
Through the mist on the harbor
Dancing lights on the water
Shadows move, I see you smilin' again
When I reach out to touch you
Like a ghost lookin' through me
Sendin' chills deep into me
Shattered dreams fallin' like teardrops again
As you make me remember
Strangers of the heart
Always safe with words unspoken
Strangers of the heart
Don't take chances, they'll get broken
No matter where you are
Hear me tonight
I don't want to be strangers at heart
Broken glass of my mirror
Makes my eyes see much clearer
You and I only a whisper away
Never tellin' each other
Strangers of the heart
Always safe with words unspoken
Strangers of the heart
Don't take chances, they'll get broken
No matter where you are
Hear me tonight
I don't want to be strangers at heart
Strangers of the heart
Always safe with words unspoken
Strangers of the heart
Don't take chances, they'll get broken
No matter where you are
Hear me tonight
I don't want to be strangers at heart
* * *
They were on the deck overlooking the street.
"Marianne . . . in another life . . . "
"I know." Marianne let out a long sigh.
"Look, Sophie . . . maybe you don't make it. Maybe you do. Maybe Adam doesn't make it. Maybe he does. I am hoping and praying that you both make it."
She paused, then said, "If one or the other of you doesn't . . . well, I'll reach out through General Lodge."
"What makes you so sure you'd be okay with Adam?"
"The smartass answer? Honey, I wanted to jump Sam Lodge's bones the moment we met. The Lodge menfolk are very, very manly, dear. The serious answer? Sophie . . . tell me you don't feel the connection between us."
Sophie sipped her 7&7, then said, "Well, I could do that, but I'd be lying."
"Exactly. I feel that same connection. If you don't make it . . . I'll help Adam grieve, and take it from there. Maybe it happens. Maybe it doesn't."
"And if he doesn't make it?"
"Then find me . . . claim me . . . and make me your little wifey.” Marianne dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin, then said, "And this is where I really do have to say good night, because you are far too much temptation for me to handle."
Marianne kissed Sophie on the cheek, then got up and left.
Sophie sat there for a long time.
Finally, a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to see Roxy and Traci with concerned expressions.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, I guess. Just . . . too close to the heart, I guess."
Roxy said, "I didn't realize--"
Sophie clasped Roxy's hand in hers. "I know, Roxy."
* * *
They'd ended up in Traci's bed, just cuddling together and occasionally crying on each other's shoulders.
Sleep eventually overtook them.
- jemhouston
- Posts: 3837
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Nurses like first responders have seem humanity at its worse and its best. Nurses know when others need space and when they just need a hug, or even more.
Sam Lodge probably wants an ear in hospitals since people who are hurt need to talk. They're less guarded due to drugs and injury.
Not to mention it's a long odd, but not impossible you might find an enemy asset there.
Sam Lodge probably wants an ear in hospitals since people who are hurt need to talk. They're less guarded due to drugs and injury.
Not to mention it's a long odd, but not impossible you might find an enemy asset there.
-
- Posts: 786
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Something needs to be done about those trucks.
Just how many sources does Sam Lodge have, anyway?
Just how many sources does Sam Lodge have, anyway?
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
30 December 1987
Tenth Air Force HQ
Nellis AFB, Las Vegas, NV
After working through her pile of action items, Sophie told LtCol Hummel, "I'm going to go talk to the padre for a moment."
Hummel nodded. "I kind of got the sense that something's bothering you." He smiled. "Take care of Sophie Henrix. She's good people."
"Thank you, sir."
* * *
The available "padre" turned out to be Colonel Rachel Sobel, a Reform rabbi.
"Come on in, Chief. Coffee?"
"Um, yes, please."
After they'd sipped coffee, Sobel said, "So, what's bothering you?"
Sophie sighed. "That some things don't bother me . . . and that others do."
Sobel's eyebrows went up. "Interesting choice of words. So, what is it that you think should be bothering you?"
Sophie said, "Rabbi . . . I have killed people, and not in small numbers. I've called in airstrikes on the enemy--including enemy aircraft mechanics sleeping in their barracks. I've slit sentries' throats, I've shot men dead, hell, I cooked a child-molesting enemy spy with a white phosphorus grenade . . . and not a bit of it bothers me. I've also been working undercover. Part of that has involved sleeping with various women to have a visible reason for being with them. And that doesn't bother me, either--and I'm in a committed relationship with my high school sweetheart, and I intend to marry him."
Sobel sipped her coffee, then said, "Chief, what were you doing before the war?"
"I was majoring in computer science and applied mathematics at MIT."
Sobel nodded. "So you attack the world with your intellect, mainly?"
Sophie nodded.
"All right. And let me tell you what your mind is saying: we are at war, and we're going to have to do all sorts of bad things to so-called 'innocent bystanders.' Now, there's also the so-called 'heart.' Classically, you're supposed to have some sort of conflict between your head and your heart. And folks who haven't thought overmuch about these things will perceive such a conflict. But you've worked it out in your head already. Your heart isn't this mysterious, emotional aspect of yourself; your emotions happen in your brain, they part and parcel of how you see the world, how you engage with the world. Your head says, 'win the war.' Your 'heart' says, 'yeah, that's right.' So, you're not troubled in that aspect; you've accepted that winning the war means doing things you normally wouldn't. I do have one question: what's your boyfriend doing?"
"Combat controller, currently on a classified assignment. That's all I can really say."
Sobel nodded. "Got it. And he might be engaged in certain activities as well?"
Sophie nodded.
Sobel said, "And your mind and heart are okay with that, because that wins the war that much faster, right?"
Sophie nodded again.
"So let's get to what is bugging you."
Sophie said, "Last night . . . I was expecting another round of 'cover for status,' that's the term we use for that sort of thing. Instead . . . I ended up feeling a very profound connection with this woman, the same kind that I feel with my boyfriend . . . and she felt it as well--she even said that if Adam doesn't make it, I'm supposed to find her and claim her, and she'd go wherever I went and be a content housewife. She called it an early night because she felt she'd . . . lose herself, I guess. At one point we danced, and it was as if the entire world went away for that song, and I could just . . . be."
Sobel sat back slightly in her chair. "Let me guess: she's a nurse."
Sophie sat bolt upright.
"How did you know?"
"It's either that or schoolteacher. Another classic of psychology. It's the attraction between the protector and the nurturer; each recognizes that they have what the other needs, that they are both incomplete without the other. I'm going to take another guess: you're an only child?"
Sophie nodded.
"All right. So you've had to develop an independent identity, and that meant standing on your two feet. In turn, you had to develop a lot of strength of character to do that, and that in turn made it possible for you to take on the mantle of protector. But you recognize the need for nurturing others, and your need to be a nurturer. I've had four kids; my husband is an FBI agent, and he's a hard-charging guy. But put his newborn son or daughter in his arms, and he's able to put that aside and just be in that moment with that newborn child, and be a nurturing, caring father. Do you think your boyfriend is able to do that?"
Sophie laughed. "Adam's the oldest child in his family, and he always made time to play with his younger siblings, or to sing along with his kid sister as she played piano--some of my favorite times with him were with those kids. They sort of viewed me as the cool aunt." Sophie sighed, then said, "And I haven't seen him in over a year, and most of his siblings are now in uniform, and tail-end Charlie is going to be enlisting in the Navy next month."
Sobel nodded. "Okay, then. What was bugging you was that you came within an ace of forming an emotional commitment--not just an attachment or attraction, but of fully committing yourself--to this other woman. And that would've meant forgoing the commitment you've already made."
Sophie felt the impact of Sobel's words in the pit of her stomach. Dear God . . . I almost gave up everything I have. If Marianne hadn't been stronger than I am . . . I could've lost everything.
Sobel said, "The good news is that you know how to be a protector--and so does your boyfriend. And you both know how to be nurturing, as well. Together . . . you will be fantastic parents." Sobel smiled. "Chief, nobody on this planet is perfect. We've all done what we oughtn't have done, and not done the things we ought, as the Book of Common Prayer puts it; we need to admit our sins, and turn to God for forgiveness, guidance, and consolation. You got really close to doing something you shouldn't have. Treat it as . . . well, a pop quiz, and you pulled a D- this week. You didn't fail it, but only because of pure dumb luck. So, try to do better next time. Because at some point, you will face this test again. Forewarned is forearmed."
Sophie drank some of her coffee, then asked, "And . . . well, if Adam doesn't make it?"
Sobel said, "In that case . . . well, you're released from your commitment to him, and then you just need to decide if this woman is who you're supposed to be with. And if the answer is 'yes,' then you go all in, no holding back, no looking for greener grass on the other side of the fence, just love her with all of you heart, mind, and strength until the end. But don't even worry about Adam dying. Right now, Chief, you're all in with Adam. Be in that present. Get in touch with him and tell him you love him."
* * *
"General Lodge."
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Chief! What problem are you bringing to me now?"
"Sir . . . could you pass a message to Adam, please?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"Please tell him that I love him."
There was a brief silence that seemed to last hours.
"I'll do that, Sophie. You okay out there?"
"A lot more okay than I was a few minutes ago, sir."
"Good to hear. Be careful, Chief."
Oh, I will, General Lodge, sir, indeed I will.
"Yes, sir."
Tenth Air Force HQ
Nellis AFB, Las Vegas, NV
After working through her pile of action items, Sophie told LtCol Hummel, "I'm going to go talk to the padre for a moment."
Hummel nodded. "I kind of got the sense that something's bothering you." He smiled. "Take care of Sophie Henrix. She's good people."
"Thank you, sir."
* * *
The available "padre" turned out to be Colonel Rachel Sobel, a Reform rabbi.
"Come on in, Chief. Coffee?"
"Um, yes, please."
After they'd sipped coffee, Sobel said, "So, what's bothering you?"
Sophie sighed. "That some things don't bother me . . . and that others do."
Sobel's eyebrows went up. "Interesting choice of words. So, what is it that you think should be bothering you?"
Sophie said, "Rabbi . . . I have killed people, and not in small numbers. I've called in airstrikes on the enemy--including enemy aircraft mechanics sleeping in their barracks. I've slit sentries' throats, I've shot men dead, hell, I cooked a child-molesting enemy spy with a white phosphorus grenade . . . and not a bit of it bothers me. I've also been working undercover. Part of that has involved sleeping with various women to have a visible reason for being with them. And that doesn't bother me, either--and I'm in a committed relationship with my high school sweetheart, and I intend to marry him."
Sobel sipped her coffee, then said, "Chief, what were you doing before the war?"
"I was majoring in computer science and applied mathematics at MIT."
Sobel nodded. "So you attack the world with your intellect, mainly?"
Sophie nodded.
"All right. And let me tell you what your mind is saying: we are at war, and we're going to have to do all sorts of bad things to so-called 'innocent bystanders.' Now, there's also the so-called 'heart.' Classically, you're supposed to have some sort of conflict between your head and your heart. And folks who haven't thought overmuch about these things will perceive such a conflict. But you've worked it out in your head already. Your heart isn't this mysterious, emotional aspect of yourself; your emotions happen in your brain, they part and parcel of how you see the world, how you engage with the world. Your head says, 'win the war.' Your 'heart' says, 'yeah, that's right.' So, you're not troubled in that aspect; you've accepted that winning the war means doing things you normally wouldn't. I do have one question: what's your boyfriend doing?"
"Combat controller, currently on a classified assignment. That's all I can really say."
Sobel nodded. "Got it. And he might be engaged in certain activities as well?"
Sophie nodded.
Sobel said, "And your mind and heart are okay with that, because that wins the war that much faster, right?"
Sophie nodded again.
"So let's get to what is bugging you."
Sophie said, "Last night . . . I was expecting another round of 'cover for status,' that's the term we use for that sort of thing. Instead . . . I ended up feeling a very profound connection with this woman, the same kind that I feel with my boyfriend . . . and she felt it as well--she even said that if Adam doesn't make it, I'm supposed to find her and claim her, and she'd go wherever I went and be a content housewife. She called it an early night because she felt she'd . . . lose herself, I guess. At one point we danced, and it was as if the entire world went away for that song, and I could just . . . be."
Sobel sat back slightly in her chair. "Let me guess: she's a nurse."
Sophie sat bolt upright.
"How did you know?"
"It's either that or schoolteacher. Another classic of psychology. It's the attraction between the protector and the nurturer; each recognizes that they have what the other needs, that they are both incomplete without the other. I'm going to take another guess: you're an only child?"
Sophie nodded.
"All right. So you've had to develop an independent identity, and that meant standing on your two feet. In turn, you had to develop a lot of strength of character to do that, and that in turn made it possible for you to take on the mantle of protector. But you recognize the need for nurturing others, and your need to be a nurturer. I've had four kids; my husband is an FBI agent, and he's a hard-charging guy. But put his newborn son or daughter in his arms, and he's able to put that aside and just be in that moment with that newborn child, and be a nurturing, caring father. Do you think your boyfriend is able to do that?"
Sophie laughed. "Adam's the oldest child in his family, and he always made time to play with his younger siblings, or to sing along with his kid sister as she played piano--some of my favorite times with him were with those kids. They sort of viewed me as the cool aunt." Sophie sighed, then said, "And I haven't seen him in over a year, and most of his siblings are now in uniform, and tail-end Charlie is going to be enlisting in the Navy next month."
Sobel nodded. "Okay, then. What was bugging you was that you came within an ace of forming an emotional commitment--not just an attachment or attraction, but of fully committing yourself--to this other woman. And that would've meant forgoing the commitment you've already made."
Sophie felt the impact of Sobel's words in the pit of her stomach. Dear God . . . I almost gave up everything I have. If Marianne hadn't been stronger than I am . . . I could've lost everything.
Sobel said, "The good news is that you know how to be a protector--and so does your boyfriend. And you both know how to be nurturing, as well. Together . . . you will be fantastic parents." Sobel smiled. "Chief, nobody on this planet is perfect. We've all done what we oughtn't have done, and not done the things we ought, as the Book of Common Prayer puts it; we need to admit our sins, and turn to God for forgiveness, guidance, and consolation. You got really close to doing something you shouldn't have. Treat it as . . . well, a pop quiz, and you pulled a D- this week. You didn't fail it, but only because of pure dumb luck. So, try to do better next time. Because at some point, you will face this test again. Forewarned is forearmed."
Sophie drank some of her coffee, then asked, "And . . . well, if Adam doesn't make it?"
Sobel said, "In that case . . . well, you're released from your commitment to him, and then you just need to decide if this woman is who you're supposed to be with. And if the answer is 'yes,' then you go all in, no holding back, no looking for greener grass on the other side of the fence, just love her with all of you heart, mind, and strength until the end. But don't even worry about Adam dying. Right now, Chief, you're all in with Adam. Be in that present. Get in touch with him and tell him you love him."
* * *
"General Lodge."
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Chief! What problem are you bringing to me now?"
"Sir . . . could you pass a message to Adam, please?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"Please tell him that I love him."
There was a brief silence that seemed to last hours.
"I'll do that, Sophie. You okay out there?"
"A lot more okay than I was a few minutes ago, sir."
"Good to hear. Be careful, Chief."
Oh, I will, General Lodge, sir, indeed I will.
"Yes, sir."
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
I guess that chat with the padre really helped.
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
- jemhouston
- Posts: 3837
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Sophie picked up another Rabbi besides General Lodge.
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
"And lead us not into temptation, for we are able to find it unassisted..."
Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
31 December 1987
Tenth Air Force Headquarters
Las Vegas, NV
Decker initialed the form and said, "Well . . . you're officially off to Sheppard, check in at the passenger terminal by 0930, your departure is at 1100."
"Understood, sir."
Decker stood and extended his hand. "Chief, it's been a pleasure working with you. I'll keep an ear to the ground. I expect great things from you."
"I'll do my best, sir."
"Now get out there and paint the town red with your lady friends, that's an order. And try not to get a case of the guilts like you did a couple nights ago."
Sophie chuckled. "Yes, sir!"
* * *
MGM Grand Hotel
Las Vegas, NV
Traci kissed Sophie twice, once on each cheek, then asked, "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good. A talk with the padre--well, madre, I guess, she was a Reform Jewish rabbi--straightened me out."
"Good. Because Roxy and I are going to give you a proper going-away party."
* * *
Ginger was dancing with a couple of enlisted men. At the end of the song, she took their hands and led them from the dance floor.
At their table, Diane Renton shook her head and said, "For God's sake, Ginger, save some for everyone else."
Sophie, Roxy, Traci, Christy, and Diane laughed in unison.
Sophie said, "I seem to recall that it's a specialty of hers." She laughed, then said, "I don't know if I'm capable of that degree of coordination."
Christy said, "It's harder than it looks."
Sophie, Traci, and Roxy replied in unison, "That's what he said."
Another round of laughter erupted, and Sophie held her glass up in a toast.
"To Uncle Sam's Flying Circus."
Diane said, "More like Uncle Sam's F***ing Circus. We get our men--and women--coming and going!"
They clinked glasses.
As the night unfolded, Christy left with a Marine Prowler ECMO, and Diane ended up joining an Air Force couple.
Traci said, "My place?"
Roxy said, "Your place."
Sophie nodded.
* * *
Traci was kneading Sophie's deltoids, working knots out, while Roxy was doing the same for her calves.
"Ladies . . . this is wonderful."
Traci said, "Our pleasure, Sophie." She paused as she worked on an especially persistent knot, then said, "You have an amazing body. Amazing muscles . . . and still feminine."
Sophie chuckled. "The key to being feminine is to like being a woman. And I do like being a woman."
Traci said, "That's it?"
"That's it."
There was a longish pause while Traci and Roxy finished up, then signaled Sophie to turn over.
Sophie saw their worried expressions. "Ladies . . . the thing with Marianne was . . . for a moment, I was willing to throw away my relationship with Adam for her."
Traci blinked. "Wow."
Roxy asked, "And us?"
Sophie smiled. "This is . . . well, it's no strings attached for me. I know you guys are together, and I wouldn't dream of interfering in that."
Traci's smile was radiant. "Good. Because Roxy and I just want to give you a good time."
"I'm up for that."
Roxy giggled.
"What's so funny?"
"You can say, 'I'm up for that,' or 'I'm down with that,' and they mean the same thing."
Traci smiled, then leaned in and kissed Sophie.
After she broke the kiss, Traci said, "And I guarantee you that between Roxy and me, you won't know up from down, honey."
"Promises, promises."
* * *
01 January 1988
Air Passenger Terminal
Nellis Air Force Base
Las Vegas, NV
Sophie handed her orders to the loadmaster, a woman whose name tag read " TSGT MCCAUGHN."
McCaughn looked dubiously at Sophie's rifle, plate carrier, and pistol.
"Uh, ma'am, you know something we don't?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Listen, I'm SOF, Ivan's got a twenty grand bounty on me--that was my New Year's present. And it's in actual Benjamins. Someone might be dumb enough to try to collect. If anybody starts shooting, just get behind cover and signal Helping Hand."
"Hoo-ah, ma'am."
* * *
Altus Air Force Base
Altus, OK
Brigadier General O'Neil met Sophie at the terminal while she was waiting for her C-130 down to Sheppard.
"Good job on that site exploitation in Vegas."
"Thank you, sir."
"Some folks whose opinion I hold in no particular regard think you got a little carried away."
"I interrupted him raping an eleven-year-old girl."
O'Neil's demeanor didn't change on iota. "Sonofabitch had it coming. Break-break, you should know this next bit of news: the bounty on your head is now fifty grand American."
Sophie sighed. "Goddamnit."
"Well, that kid of money attracts the stupid and crazy, not just the stupid. And Wichita Falls isn't cleared out yet. Listen, the Marines made a HUGE capture at Lubbock International Airport last summer."
"What'd they get, the senior KGB guy?"
"No, 282 Soviet nuclear weapons."
Sophie said, "Not bad for those crayon-eating maniacs."
"And 250 sets of paperwork for them."
Sophie blinked. "Oh, shit. Are we sure we found all of the nukes?"
"And you just put your finger on the big question. We don't know, and because we don't know, AFOSI's first priority is securing Lubbock and making sure that there aren't any nukes gone walkabout. And that means TAC bases are sucking wind for counterintelligence coverage. Keep your head on a swivel, don't draw first, but make sure you draw first blood."
"Hoo-ah, sir."
Tenth Air Force Headquarters
Las Vegas, NV
Decker initialed the form and said, "Well . . . you're officially off to Sheppard, check in at the passenger terminal by 0930, your departure is at 1100."
"Understood, sir."
Decker stood and extended his hand. "Chief, it's been a pleasure working with you. I'll keep an ear to the ground. I expect great things from you."
"I'll do my best, sir."
"Now get out there and paint the town red with your lady friends, that's an order. And try not to get a case of the guilts like you did a couple nights ago."
Sophie chuckled. "Yes, sir!"
* * *
MGM Grand Hotel
Las Vegas, NV
Traci kissed Sophie twice, once on each cheek, then asked, "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good. A talk with the padre--well, madre, I guess, she was a Reform Jewish rabbi--straightened me out."
"Good. Because Roxy and I are going to give you a proper going-away party."
* * *
Ginger was dancing with a couple of enlisted men. At the end of the song, she took their hands and led them from the dance floor.
At their table, Diane Renton shook her head and said, "For God's sake, Ginger, save some for everyone else."
Sophie, Roxy, Traci, Christy, and Diane laughed in unison.
Sophie said, "I seem to recall that it's a specialty of hers." She laughed, then said, "I don't know if I'm capable of that degree of coordination."
Christy said, "It's harder than it looks."
Sophie, Traci, and Roxy replied in unison, "That's what he said."
Another round of laughter erupted, and Sophie held her glass up in a toast.
"To Uncle Sam's Flying Circus."
Diane said, "More like Uncle Sam's F***ing Circus. We get our men--and women--coming and going!"
They clinked glasses.
As the night unfolded, Christy left with a Marine Prowler ECMO, and Diane ended up joining an Air Force couple.
Traci said, "My place?"
Roxy said, "Your place."
Sophie nodded.
* * *
Traci was kneading Sophie's deltoids, working knots out, while Roxy was doing the same for her calves.
"Ladies . . . this is wonderful."
Traci said, "Our pleasure, Sophie." She paused as she worked on an especially persistent knot, then said, "You have an amazing body. Amazing muscles . . . and still feminine."
Sophie chuckled. "The key to being feminine is to like being a woman. And I do like being a woman."
Traci said, "That's it?"
"That's it."
There was a longish pause while Traci and Roxy finished up, then signaled Sophie to turn over.
Sophie saw their worried expressions. "Ladies . . . the thing with Marianne was . . . for a moment, I was willing to throw away my relationship with Adam for her."
Traci blinked. "Wow."
Roxy asked, "And us?"
Sophie smiled. "This is . . . well, it's no strings attached for me. I know you guys are together, and I wouldn't dream of interfering in that."
Traci's smile was radiant. "Good. Because Roxy and I just want to give you a good time."
"I'm up for that."
Roxy giggled.
"What's so funny?"
"You can say, 'I'm up for that,' or 'I'm down with that,' and they mean the same thing."
Traci smiled, then leaned in and kissed Sophie.
After she broke the kiss, Traci said, "And I guarantee you that between Roxy and me, you won't know up from down, honey."
"Promises, promises."
* * *
01 January 1988
Air Passenger Terminal
Nellis Air Force Base
Las Vegas, NV
Sophie handed her orders to the loadmaster, a woman whose name tag read " TSGT MCCAUGHN."
McCaughn looked dubiously at Sophie's rifle, plate carrier, and pistol.
"Uh, ma'am, you know something we don't?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Listen, I'm SOF, Ivan's got a twenty grand bounty on me--that was my New Year's present. And it's in actual Benjamins. Someone might be dumb enough to try to collect. If anybody starts shooting, just get behind cover and signal Helping Hand."
"Hoo-ah, ma'am."
* * *
Altus Air Force Base
Altus, OK
Brigadier General O'Neil met Sophie at the terminal while she was waiting for her C-130 down to Sheppard.
"Good job on that site exploitation in Vegas."
"Thank you, sir."
"Some folks whose opinion I hold in no particular regard think you got a little carried away."
"I interrupted him raping an eleven-year-old girl."
O'Neil's demeanor didn't change on iota. "Sonofabitch had it coming. Break-break, you should know this next bit of news: the bounty on your head is now fifty grand American."
Sophie sighed. "Goddamnit."
"Well, that kid of money attracts the stupid and crazy, not just the stupid. And Wichita Falls isn't cleared out yet. Listen, the Marines made a HUGE capture at Lubbock International Airport last summer."
"What'd they get, the senior KGB guy?"
"No, 282 Soviet nuclear weapons."
Sophie said, "Not bad for those crayon-eating maniacs."
"And 250 sets of paperwork for them."
Sophie blinked. "Oh, shit. Are we sure we found all of the nukes?"
"And you just put your finger on the big question. We don't know, and because we don't know, AFOSI's first priority is securing Lubbock and making sure that there aren't any nukes gone walkabout. And that means TAC bases are sucking wind for counterintelligence coverage. Keep your head on a swivel, don't draw first, but make sure you draw first blood."
"Hoo-ah, sir."
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Re: A Tan Beret Goes to Nellis
Any amount of money says (a) Sophie and the girls wore each other out that night, and (b) There were weapons tests during and after the war of recovered Soviet nuclear weapons.
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.