GET-SOME
“…I see your motives inside. Decision to hide…”
Patina’s basement, Guantanamo
21 Nov 2019, 1245 EST
…
..
The Casio watch is beeping.
Cassandro rolls his eyes.
“So much for gunny time.”
He sits on the interrogation chair.
Places his arms through two modest electronic containment cylinders bolted to the table.
One of the latest and greatest additions to his living area.
They activate, and lock his hands together right before the elbows.
He waits.
Taking the time to appreciate the only thing in the room with color; a mix of dying generic flowers with what seems to be some kind of copy-cat vine right next to it.
Somebody has been watering and maintaining it there.
It’s depressing.
Gunny shows up @ 1300 sharp and tosses a pair of USMC boots on the table.
Angry, humiliated, but composed.
“That was a dk move you did yesterday ass-clown.
You don’t fkn scare me by the way.
Here, compliments of the house.”
His severely inflamed right hand has a compression bandage wrapped around it; so he uses his left hand to slide Cassandro a baklava on a paper plate.
Has a zip-lock bag full of ice to keep down the swelling.
Cassandro recognizes Gunny and friends know more about him than he’d like, and will have to work with that.
He breaks the baklava in half with difficulty due to his restraints.
Burns the tips of his finger a bit, unbothered.
One half of the treat is slightly bigger than the other.
He offers the larger half to Gunny.
Slides it over to him by flicking the plate at an angle.
Gunny doesn’t take it.
He asks about the boots. Holds him to his promise.
Wants the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but.
Cassandro asks him if he wants the boots story, or his expectations on being truthful with each other first before starting their discourse.
“Boots btch!”
Not a second later, Patina transmits to his ear gadget.
>>>WHAT are you doing! Rules will give away what his game is, and we’re already getting the boots for free!<<<
Gunny recovers,
“…I mean.. the boots story would be btching! but, of course, let’s talk about your expectations on…
…you know. First and.
About. Truths, before boots…”
Cassandro stares at him, blinks.
Takes a deep breath.
On the other side of the wall and glass divider, completely obscured from that table, Darvok is holding back a laugh.
Patina is a little flustered, wishing she was in there instead of him, and presses her push-to-talk button,
>>>and for Christ’s sake, eat your baklava.
You eating first signals etiquette, proves it’s not poisoned or dirty.
Relax, and have some fkn tact Marine!<<<
Darvok teases Patina, whisper mocking Gunny’s hand event from not even half a day ago.
“Hey little angry terrorist guy that just told me I hand squeeze lemons for a living. What’s that? Sure! I’ll shake your hand pal.”
Patina shakes her head at him, unamused. “He’s doing the best he can at his level, he’s still an asset.”
“I just expected more caution from someone who complained so much about him having a knife.”
Patina coldy asks, “We’ve all under-estimated him. How’s your hand by the way? Does it have an automatic index to lips function?”.
Darvok puts his serious face back on and wiggles his digital fingers slightly as his attention’s back on target.
She maintains close scrutiny to Cassandro’s angles of persuasion, relieved to know Alexa is patched in with Gunny as well.
Alexa is also standing by right next to Patina, with a headset, in observation mode.
It’s wearing the features of a dainty Victorian era woman with an almost luminous, lead-white skin.
Loose ringlets hang towards her ears, and tightly styled buns to the sides with floaty curls give her an authentic antiquated look.
Alexa’s systems have been re-calibrated to emulate the Countess, Ada Lovelace.
Her digi-halo eyes compute the entire planet’s worth of multipoint communications and data storages per millisecond.
Simultaneously, she exists and reacts to the demands of her environment.
She processes Gunny eating the larger of the two baklavas, and Cassandro leaning in and tasting his after.
Nostalgic, Cassandro takes another bite, trying to remember this particular taste.
It’s been so long, he struggles to look further back and…
…Cassandro stops chewing.
Body turns to stone.
Closes his eyes.
A tear streams from an old wound from the farthest corner in his mind.
There were only two people, aside from himself, that knew this recipe.
He opens his eyes back up.
Awkwardly wipes his cheek with his shoulder.
Leaves his treat unfinished.
Gunny’s personally satisfied at being on the inside part of this prank that was being played on Cassandro.
They had eaten all the Colonel’s Baklava, confirmed deceased this morning, but not before Alexa was ordered to reverse-engineer the recipe.
Gunny eases deeper into his seat. Comfortable.
Touches the ice-bag to his hand, very gently.
Cassandro returns to his usual sang-froid.
“Thanks for that Gunny. It was unexpected and bittersweet.
My heartfelt appreciation, to the lovely baker.”
Gunny smirks, smiles, and with his best face hides his glee and says,
“You’re welcome. Glad you liked it. So, what were your rules again?”
Cassandro touches his thumbs together.
“I’ll break it down barney style, just for you Gunny.
I don’t make up rules by the way, that’d be a vulgar display of power.
I simply propose mutual agreement, as I’m just a humble servant to the highest truths.”
Gunny is thinking he’s going to hear about some foreign Allah, HaShem, or some Buddha bullsht.
For Gunny, nothing is superior to the one and only God.
He brushes off the barney and pop culture mention as some kind of fluke.
“I don’t like bantering back and forth. I like to gravitate towards universal truths as the first and last points to an argument.
You know, undeniable truths? An Axiom? V for Verity? The facts and realities that replace the subjective with something objective?
Is this a level of standard you can keep up with?”
Gunny nods, makes sense.
Sure, why not, play along.
“Right, so next agreement. To break a fake-truths, half-truth, lie, or whatever has you, we just need one thing.
A contradiction.
And if you really wanna score and one up me, point blank, just put down a higher truth.
That’s it. One contradiction or go one truth higher and you win.”
Gunny pauses.
Looks to the side as if thinking. Discreetly pumped his right heel twice.
Understands that it’s simply truths and realities that absolutely everyone can agree on, because Alexa quickly translated for him.
“Like, gravity, right?”
“That’s right! Just like gravity.
I wouldn’t want to discuss a big bad truth with someone who wants to say gravity isn’t real and they don’t feel it.
That’d be a waste of time and energy and I’m not about that high drag low speed life.
Good use of bona fide active listening there motivator.”
Cassandro tends to smirk often.
Gunny is caught off guard from receiving that distinct USMC term.
He had an image of Cassandro’s character before, but now he’s not sure what to expect.
Just how close was he to Marines?
He leans in a bit on the table, to appear more engaged.
Secretly, he’s thankful he has Alexa on board and not just Patina.
Cassandro tests him.
“Here’s a few more uni-truths for ya:
Communication is everything.
2+2=4.
Actions speak louder than words.
Change is constant.
Everything alive depends on external energy to survive and thrive.
And the sky is blue, but not exactly.
You got some examples also right?
Help me drive this point home so we can move on to greener pastures m8.”
Gunny nods and takes a deep breath. Pumps his heel again.
Looks at the ceiling, then back. Buying time for another Alexa translation.
“Sure sure, something in motion stays in motion until it crashes. The sun will rise tomorrow.
If a truth bleeds contradiction, I can kill it. And in a pissing contest the big truths golden showers the little truths.”
Cassandro nods in genuine surprise,
“Glad to see you with both boots on the ground there hardcharger.
speaking of which.
You wanted to know about these boots right?”
Cassandro gestures at them on the table.
Gunny pauses a moment, smiles.
And holds it.
“Not yet. You said actions speak louder than words, right?
“I did. I have yet to be shown otherwise.
Is today the day devil-dog? You of all people?”
“Actions can’t speak louder than words, because speech is an action.
They are both at the same level.”
Cassandro acknowledges what he said.
“Sharp. How about this.
If speaking is an action, and not speaking is as an action, then action is the entire communication formula, while words take only take half.
Plus, language was invented so people could lie.
Without skipping a beat, “Then prove that one.”
Cassandro picks up his remaining Baklava piece.
” It’s much harder to trick people on your bullshit using charades. Wouldn’t you agree?”
…Mumbles, “something doesn’t feel right.”
“Facts don’t care about your feelings devil pup.”
Cassandro finishes the pastry.
Quietly chews on it.
Gunny is silent. He touches ice to his hand, while pumping his heel.
Behind the glass, on the other side, Patina is silent.
Darvok squints, notes Ada-lexa is inappropriately silent.
Cassandro sits in the silence.
Winks at Gunny after finishes his treat.
Clears his throat.
“These boots Gunny.”
Gestures with his tied down hands.
“They were a gift from a close friend.
A Marine, smart guy, just like you. I was in–“
A transmission discreetly comes in.
Gunny abruptly tasks.
“–Can you define intelligence? Wanna make sure I understand what you mean by that so we can communicate on the same page.”
Cassandro smiles.
“Just so happens that’s part of the story.
I’ll get there soon enough, good to go?”
Gunny’s ears turn hot as he nods.
“You know how, some people, spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world?
Gunny proudly proclaims that Marines don’t have that problem.
“Right, so this dark green 0311 Marine had that problem.
He felt state sanctioned war-crimes, and dragging families out of their houses at zero dark thirty, wasn’t the kind of difference he wanted to be remembered by.
He was looking for meaning. Purpose. Transcendence. And because he was the real deal, he went looking for it.”
“What was his problem?”
“Same problem the other 2/7 Marines had.
As part of the forgotten battalion, he was suicidal, and didn’t want to die without meaning.”
Gunny stayed quiet.
“Wanting wisdom that didn’t come from a cult, he found me.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that to find peace, he needed to view everyone and everything as a strategy.
Then, to use one, two, three.
But before he can reach those three levels, first, he has to be a grown up.”
One, intelligence is the ability to solve a problem. The bigger the problem you can solve, the more intelligent you are.
Between two solutions to a problem, the one done with the less amount of time and energy is the winner. If you do it as a group, it’s called group intelligence. Remarkable for its synergy.
Two, with intelligence comes morals. How are you solving the problem?
Are you using alive things, like people, as objects and tools? As ends to your means?
Those are the bad guys.
The good guys cooperate, work together, and share the wins and losses together.
Three, a true warrior doesn’t use violence without Morals. There’s no grey area and jumping back to forth.
It’s harder to be the good guy, that’s why it’s honorable.
As an intelligent, but grey Marine, what side of the Moral coin are you going to take after today hero?”
Gunny processes.
Nobody is transmitting to his ear.
He brushes it all off.
“God and country is all we need”
Cassandro rolls his eyes, “op, there goes gravity…”
Gunny is thinking a mile a minute.
Finally, gets a message transmitted.
“What’s the grown-up thing?”
Cassandro motions to the boots.
“I have questions also sht bag. Take my soles out the boots.”
Gunny doesn’t argue. A feeling of shame and rage is brewing inside of him.
He feels exhausted all of a sudden.
Taking out the soles, he finds a a leathery page stretched out into 5 small points.
It has a symbol of a rook, painted with real gold.
Cassandro breaks the silence,
“I’m looking for a particular leather-neck.
Some over-equipped assholes came for me right before I was going to leave the continent with some significant others.
That was a going away gift, from my friend, before he was killed keeping those bad guys at bay.
This wasn’t a normal group of spooks and bounty hunters, this was… …higher level.
Have you come across anybody missing a hand lately?”
Gunny’s veins go cold.
His large frame shrinks in his seat.
“POP POP”
Gunfire!
Two shots rang inside.
Gunny drops it all and runs out towards the sounds of a fire-fight, forgetting to close the one way window double doors.
More shooting noises.
Darvok is standing with one foot on a floored Ada-lexa.
He reloads and dumps more rounds into targeted spots.
Ada-lexa drops her knife. One of her legs kicks and vibrates.
Hydraulic and nano-tech fluid oozes out of her.
Cassandro witnesses this from his space, as Patina looks at him and closes the doors.
Gunny asks what happened.
There’s silence, broken only by Ada-lexas leg as it slowly loses energy.
Patina explains hurriedly.
“Some kind of malfunction. We asked her to bring us some more baklava and she came back with a knife.
Darvok took care of it.”
Darvok, Patina, and Gunny are breathing heavy.
Gunny is impressed at the gruesome sight of Ada-lexa, and his face softens.
Just a few days ago Darvok hooked him up by sending her over to him.
It was wearing the skin and features of his wife from before they were married.
Best lay he’d ever had.
Darvoks face is rigid, his body fixed with rage as he calmly takes his boot off of Ada-lexas’ chest and secures his weapon.
Patina compliments Gunny.
“The information we got was invaluable. Go upstairs. Take a breather. We’ll talk tonight. Don’t worry, Alexa is totally fixable.”
Gunny starts speaking but is interrupted by Patina.
“Now please.”
The elevator dings as Gunny leaves.
Patina asks Darvok if he’s okay.
He takes a deep breath.
“…No, I’m not okay…”
“How bad is it?”
“It’s over. Can’t even risk analyzing her chip, and I wouldn’t put it past her that she’s hiding out in the cloud somewhere. This is bad.”
Patina crosses her hands, looks over to Cassandro still in his seat and tied down.
“What next?”
Darvok lays it to her straight,
“If she’s broken, he’s broken. She just processes it faster. Only a matter a time before Gunny takes his gun out on us. Hell, he could be upstairs right now ready to drop us.”
Patina takes it in.
“I need to clear my head.
My best advice for you is keep that guy locked up, leave him alone.
Bury your subject…
…I’ll be back in a few days.”
Darvok picks up Ada-lexa and bride and carries her away, taking the stairs.
Patina gives one last look back to the bolted down Cassandro on the table, and leaves as well.
——————–