Chapter Text
Alex looks down at his hands, dried blood caked under his fingernails and fresh blood seeping from the deep cuts in the back of his hands. He swallows down the bile building up in the back of his throat as he pushes through the wet forest. Water pouring down from the angry sky, drenching his uniform with cold rain. People move through the mud behind him and he runs faster, dog tags gripped tightly in his left hand, his lungs screaming at him to stop for just a minute. The men behind him start closing in and-
“ex-,” he gets shoved lightly, “hey, Alex, you listening?”
Alexander jumps in his seat and looks around wildly before his eyes settle on Jason, his blonde hair sheared close to his scalp and his green eyes bright with humor. He shakes his head quickly, “sorry. What was that?”
“Man, we really lost ya there,” Jason laughs, his gun gripped tightly in his hands, betraying his nerves, “I was asking if you think my wife will still love me with short hair.”
Alex chuckles, reaching up to brush his hair out of the way before stopping as he hits stubble, his hand drops, “yeah,” he sighs, “she’ll still love you.” He can hear gunshots outside the vehicle they’re sitting in and his body involuntarily jumps as the wide vehicle moves over the bumpy and rough terrain.
Before Jason can respond, Colonel Jenkins, who sits across from them, looks up from his file and clears his throat, “so, gentlemen, can you tell me where we’re going?”
“Sir no sir,” Jason responds, sitting up straight in his seat.
The officer looks at Alex with a raised eyebrow as if awaiting his response but before he can say anything, he continues, “we’re going to Nha Trang Air Base. Do either of you know anything about it?”
“Sir no sir,” Alex speaks up, striving to prove himself by being the quickest.
The Colonel shakes his head with a sigh, “they’re really picking ‘em back home.” The tanned man sitting to his right stifles a chuckle, “Nha Trang Air Base was built in 1949 by the French. It’s 2.7 kilometers northwest of Nha Trang in the Khanh Hoa Province. We’re here for operations off the record; meaning, I can’t tell either of you what we’re doing until we get inside. Can’t risk the potential of any prying eyes. Any questions, gentleman?”
Jason and Alex look at each other raised eyebrows, as if prompting the other to speak up, but before either of them can take the bait and ask something the vehicle rumbles to a stop and the officer stands up. He pushes up the door the of the tank, rain immediately pelting them before they’ve even stepped out. The commanding officer steps down into the mud, his boots squelching in the wet dirt, his face betrays no emotion at the noise as he turns to face Alexander and Jason as they climb out of the large tank. “You have been chosen as the best of what the army has to offer,” he looks them up and down with disdain, “for what reasons? I haven’t the faintest idea. I hope this becomes evident to me as time goes on. I wasn’t the one who chose the two of you but I will be taking you to him. Follow me.” He turns around, heaving rain splashing on the mud, causing mud to hit their uniforms, covering them in mud and water. They walk through the gates, the officer flashing his badge quickly, while Alex and Jason keep their heads held high, desperately trying to convey no emotion, though their hands quiver with nerves.
Colonel Jenkins leads them into a dimly lit room where a small group of people are gathered around a table, their heads tucked close together as the one who appears to be in charge points at something on a map that’s spread across the tabletop. Colonel Jenkins stops walking and clears his throat, “General Anthony.”
The man in question looks up from the map and quickly scans Alex and Jason before nodding with a look of approval. He stands up straight and walks forward to Colonel Jenkins and shakes his head, “Colonel, I see you’ve made it back in one piece.”
Colonel Jenkins nods, “as always, sir. I bring you the two recruits you requested.”
General Anthony lets a small smile through his stony façade before quickly settling again. Colonel Jenkins moves aside so Alex and Jason can be clearly seen. The General steps forward to assess the men before him. He nods quickly in approval before gesturing for the two men to follow him. He leads them down a dark hallway, their footsteps echoing loudly around them as they walk. Water drips into a bucket that sits against the right wall-
Plink, plink, plink
It’s almost hard to breath in the stale claustrophobic atmosphere. Almost as if one shouldn’t breathe in case the enemy outside can hear them. Nervousness pools in Alexander’s gut and he swallows thickly, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple that he resists the urge to wipe away. “Just breath, Alexander,” John’s voice whispers in his head and it’s almost as if he can feel John’s hand against his forehead like he’s checking for a fever, “life isn’t so bad, love.” He can feel the corner of the polaroid digging into his side and Jason’s eyes on him with a questioning gaze. He forces himself to take a quiet deep breath as they arrive in the office at the end of the hallway.
General Anthony gestures for them to sit down in the two chairs across from his desk. He takes a seat in the large chair on the opposite side from Alex and Jason and turns the lamp sitting on his desk on. Alexander and Jason look at each other before sitting down in the rickety wooden chairs that creak beneath their individual weights. The office smells of mildew, scratching at Alex’s throat as he breathes. He spares a quick glance around the sparsely decorated office. A single wooden picture frame sits on the metal desk almost as if that’s the General’s most prized possession. Maybe it is. Alex’s is in his pocket, who’s he to judge if someone else’s is kept on their desk? There’s a small narrow window, no more than six inches in height and a foot in length, in the wall behind the General and all Alex can see through it is rain. There’s a gray metal filing cabinet in the corner of the office to Alex’s right though it looks like it hasn’t been touched since it was placed there. Almost as if it’s there to make it look like a normal office. Nothing about this room shows a normal office.
“How are you enjoying Vietnam, gentlemen?” General Anthony questions, leaning back slightly in his seat, the chair creaking in protest.
Jason spares Alex a glance before saying, “it’s wetter than I expected, sir.”
The general barks out a laugh, “you’re honest and I respect that.” He turns around to glance out the window and turns back to face them, “it’s monsoon season, boys. Better get used to it. You won’t know dry for at least another two months.”
Alex clears his throat, drawing General Anthony’s attention to him, “not to be rude, sir, but why are we here?”
General Anthony nods and rubs his hand across his sheared salt and pepper hair, “I was waiting for one of you to ask.” He leans forward and rests his arms on his desk, lacing his fingers together, “you were both chosen, you could say.”
“Chosen for what, exactly?” Jason questions.
The general leans back and pulls open a drawer in his desk, the scrape of metal on metal echoes around the office and places a thick manila file on the desktop. He sits back up and opens the file, laying a stack of paperclipped papers in front of Alex and a stack in front of Jason. “You both intrigued us,” he begins to explain, “you both enlisted and you both appear to be very smart. Enlisting is something that happens very often during this war so it captures our attention when it does.” He taps Alex’s stack and Alex looks down to be greeted by his own much more youthful face staring back at him, “you, Mr. Hamilton, were one of the first," Alex's eyes widen in shock at the word that falls from his lips, "to become a lawyer in the United States-“
“Sir,” Alex interrupts, causing the general to raise an eyebrow, “I respect your authority but I don’t appreciate your use of that word.”
“What word?” the general questions, crossing his arms over his chest, almost challenging Alex.
“We-“ he winces in pain as Jason digs his heel into Alex’s foot. He glances at him to see Jason glaring back. He sighs and turns back to the general in silence, who waits a second before continuing.
“You caught our eye. You’re smart. You’re dangerous. We need you on our side.” He turns to Jason, “your father served in World War II, did he not?”
Jason nods quickly, “yes, sir. Honorably discharged in February 1945 after a shot to the shoulder prevented him from returning to the fight. The wound quickly became infected which lead to him being rushed to emergency care where he met my mom.”
“You must hear that story a lot,” General Anthony remarks with a chuckle.
“All the time, sir.”
The general nods his head slowly, “well, gentlemen, neither of you are here to relive your parents glory days,” he spares a quick glance at Alex after he mentions parents before returning to his spiel, “you enlisted in the Army but you’re going to be trained to aid the Air Force. Any objections?” He was greeted with silence then continued speaking, “you have been chosen to help start the 4th Air Commando Squadron. Air Chief Marshall Sexton and I will be leading this Squadron. You will be assigned to covert nightly combat sorties in which you will enact actions against the Viet Cong as well as reconnaissance and an Operation that is in the works. Should you fail at any of these, we will not find you and your name will be wiped from our records.” He looks between the two of them, “You may not ask any questions, the less you know the better. Do you understand the severity of the situation you are in?”
Alex and Jason nod simultaneously, too nervous to say anything. The General picks their stacks back up and puts them in the folder. “Tonight, you will begin your training. You cannot tell anyone what you are doing, nor can you tell them where you are. Should you break this rule and we find out, you, and those involved, will be charged with treason. The knowledge of what you are doing here, cannot leave this camp. Do you understand?”
“Sir yes sir,” the men in question respond, an undercurrent of anxiety lacing their words.
“Captain Hill will direct you to the barracks,” he waives them off as there’s a knock at the door. The door opens to reveal a tall man with dark brown hair and striking hazel eyes in Air Force garb. He’s muscular and almost terrifying to look at, he looks Alex and Jason up and down with disdain before gesturing for them to follow him. He begins to speak as they make their trek to the barracks.
“So you’re the maggots picked for this op?” he questions.
“Yes, sir,” Alex replies, raising an eyebrow.
He glances back at Alex and shakes his head, “don’t think you’re so special. You’ll be lucky if you live until September.” That’s the last thing he says until they arrive outside the barracks. He leaves them at the doors without a word and walks away, his shoulders tense as he almost jogs to get away from the men. Alex finally takes the lead and pulls the doors to the barracks open, the faint smell of dust and sweat hitting them as they walk in. The room’s currently empty and in immaculate condition. Not a single blanket is wrinkled as they walk down aisle of beds. They finally arrive at a set of bunk beds with their names taped on it and Jason sits down with a sigh.
“Oh man, that was wild. Do you think we’ll actually die? I can’t die man, my wife’s back home,” Jason frets, nervously rubbing his face with his hands. His blond scruff, scratching his palms.
Alex shakes his head quickly, “you won’t die, Jason. I promise I’ll keep you safe,” he says, referencing back to their first conversation.
Jason chuckles slightly and lets his arms fall to his sides, “I don’t know about you but I’m a little scared man.”
Alex sits down next to Jason and pats his arm, “nothing bad will happen. I’m sure everyone here is just overreacting.”
“Oh hey!” Jason nearly shouts, “what was that about with the General? You can’t go picking fights, Alex. I know I said I’d keep you safe but you can’t pick a fight at every turn.”
“You don’t get it. That word he used was an insult to me. You won’t ever have to hear someone say that to you, but I have to hear it all the time.”
“What? W-“
“Jason. Don’t,” he says, cutting Jason off, “that word means pain to me. It means that I’ll never be accepted here. As long as people say it, then I’ll always be seen as less than a person. Something worse than who I actually am. It’s an awful word meant to attack me and where I come from. It’s meant to make you view me as dirty and wrong just because I immigrated to the United States. Do you view me as less of person just because of the color of my skin and where I come from?”
There’s a tense silence before Jason laughs and throws an arm around Alex’s shoulders, “I couldn’t view you as less of a person even if I tried, man. I’m sorry I didn’t defend you back there.”
“I don’t need you to speak for me,” Alex protests, “I can defend myself.”
Jason nods in understanding, “then I’m sorry I didn’t let you defend yourself.”
It’s quiet for a moment again until Jason says almost in a whisper, “thank you for explaining it to me, Alex.”
Alex nods slowly before saying, “thank you for understanding me.”