Private James Monroe. Private. I still can't get over that
fact. Tall weeds in my face, my M-14 (Hey I remember these old things),
my standard GI boots trampling the Japanese muddy soil. My CO says
they're scheduled to drop the bomb on Hiroshima within the next few
days. As for now we stand guard and wait for orders.
When I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was the barrel of
a PSG-1 sniper between my eyes. I put the sniper on my desk as my name
plate fell off. Captain John Miller, Sniper Specialist. I can't help
but brag about my job. I do what I love and I get paid by the Government
with all the benefits. It's an elite counter-terrorist task force.
"Delta Four" is one of the best teams in the nation. It's part of the
"Delta Team," a group of six elite counter-terrorist teams stationed
in various parts of the country. "Delta Four's" HQ is in San Diego, California.
"America's finest city" all of a sudden isn't the finest around.
I wonder what Japan was thinking when they bombed us? Here we
are minding our own business, declaring neutrality in the war. I
remember reading in the paper "We have awaken a sleeping giant." And
it's true. Japan is going to regret Pearl Harbor. Now here we are 3
days from Hiroshima. I can't wait to get home.
"John? John, wake up. You fell asleep again."
"Again? That's the third time today."
"What's wrong? Is everything okay at home? Did you get enough sleep
last night?" Derek's always been sincere.
"I got plenty of sleep last night. I mean, life couldn't be better." Tell me about it.
Jokingly, "You could use a girlfriend."
"I could always use a girlfriend. But you get my point."
"Yeah, I do."
Derek has always been there for me. He and I are the only
original members of Delta Four left. New people just keep coming,
going, quitting, or they're KIA. Derek is just a very skilled man.
That's all I could say. We're constantly challenging each other.
Who's the better sniper? They call him Miller One, since he also has
the name Miller. They call me Miller Lite cause I'm smaller than he
is. Not to be big headed but I think I'm the better sniper. I may be
smaller, but he's the younger one.
"Gentlemen, I just got word there's a Jap POW that escaped
and he's heading our way." Down on one knee, weapons pointed to the
ground. Same routine every time.
"Derek. Derek come here." Derek Mathew Stine has been my best
friend since I joined the service. "Yeah, what's up? What is it?"
"If we're doing this as a routine manhunt can we partner up?"
"Sure private." I loved it when he called me that. I felt
like his kid brother. (But why am I younger?) Finally, some action.
Something to serve my country for. Something to stop me from going
insane with boredom.
Speaking on the phone. "Derek? Hey, it's me John."
"John! It's 2 o' clock in the morning."
"Yeah I know, it's just I have these dreams. Another one? And I've been falling asleep at irregular times. What do you think I should do?"
"What are these dreams about?"
"Well, it's like I'm in World War II. We're both in it.
Except my name isn't John Miller, it's James Monroe."
"What's my name?"
"You're still Derek."
"Look John, just get some sleep. I hear we're getting a new
mission in the morning from the CO."
"Okay Derek. I will. Thanks for listening."
"Hey don't worry about it. You'll be fine."
That was the best part about Delta Four, or even the Delta
Team for that matter. We are put to use by the FBI, CIA, NSA, and even
the Government's personal use. The jobs are never the same. It's always
something different. Tomorrow will be interesting.
Sydney, Australia. Home of the 2000 Summer Olympics. The
Olympics are going on day 3 as we speak. There's been two death threats
on two different athletes. One's on a Track and Field runner whose
ex-girlfriend hired a hit man to take him out. Another is an ex-athlete
who's been kicked off the swim team for illegal drug possession. He
threatened to set off a bomb at the Olympic pool during one of the swim meets.
We've been called in by the government to stop both "terrorists" at all
costs and to continue the Olympics safely and peacefully. God, I hate planes.
Especially long trips like Sydney, Australia. Looking out the window, I
can feel myself drift off to sleep.
He's somewhere around here I can feel it.The thing is with these
old Japanese turrets ya never know if they've built something "extra"
to go along with it...
...What was that? I could've sworn I heard someone talking. (Why do my ears
feel like they're going to pop?)
Was it even Japanese? Am I being paranoid? As much as I don't want to
go back to my state of boredom, I really don't wanna be here.
"Put your hands up!" Whirling around I dropped my rifle to the grass.
What did he say? They could at least send someone who speaks Japanese
to find a Japanese POW. "English?" Trembling, I took another step closer
to him. Trying to reason with him, to understand him. (When will they
realize that Japan will lose the war?)
"Put your hands up!"
"English? You don't speak English?" Where is everyone? I heard
a twig snap behind me. (Don't turn around.) I was unconscious before I
could turn around to find out who gave me a swift blow to the head.
Sitting perched up on the rooftop I could see the Olympic Pool
Building from here. With my sniper in hand I could take on the world.
(I have to get me one of these.)
"Miller Lite, this is Miller One. How are ya John?"
Shivering, "Well Derek, I've always pictured Sydney warmer. All of
Australia in fact."
"I know what you mean."
"So how's your view?"
"Pretty good. I could see almost the whole damn Olympics. Yourself?"
"Well, I've seen better views. Not bad for being the Olympics
though. A free ticket."
Interrupting, "Sorry to interrupt your chit chat boys but we have a
visual on Suspect One," CO Perez could be annoying sometimes. But he's
just doing his job this time.
"He's in your section Miller One."
"Negative. I don't see him. It's gotta be John."
"Negative. I don't…wait. I have a visual on Suspect One."
"Take the shot," barked Perez.
"I can't sir. I said I have a visual. I never said 'target acquired'."
I could feel my body temperature rising. Why is it so damn hot? I
took off my sweating hat and jacket. It felt as if the globe itself
was becoming warmer.
"Let's go Miller Lite. You could take the shot."
Peeking through the scope. The sweat dripping in front of my eyes,
blurring my vision. "Negative Miller One."
"Do you have visual Miller Lite?"
"Yes sir, I do."
"Is the target acquired?"
"Negative sir, I can not take the shot."
"Damn it John what is your problem?!"
"Talk to Derek about my personal problems, sir. As for now
there are two civilians within a 5 foot radius of Suspect One."
"Take the shot Miller! Do you want another '96 Olympic Games
to happen? (What happened at the '96 Games? Where were they?) I'm not
going to send in a whole team into the middle of the Goddamn 2000
Summer Olympics to do the job of a sniper. Now take that shot! That's
Overcome with heat, I dropped my sniper and fell back. Facing
the blue cloudless sky. Seconds later I heard an explosion, followed
by the screaming, crying, and yelling of thousands of innocent civilians.
Lying and drenched in sweat, I could feel myself drifting off again.
"Hey! Wake up. James. James, you okay? You fell asleep in the
sauna of all places."
"Derek? Derek is that you?"
"Yeah it's me. What's wrong buddy?"
"Where am I? What year is it?"
"It's 1912. You're in Washington D.C. FBI headquarters."
"It's still 1912? Derek have you ever had a dream within a
"What do ya mean buddy?"
"Well I dreamt I was some guy named John Miller, part of an
elite counter-terrorist team in the year 2000 at the summer Olympics
in Sydney. Then while he, or I, was sleeping he…I mean I dreamt I was
in World War II in Japan searching for an escaped Japanese POW. The
weird part is, in that dream I had my regular name. James Monroe."
"You call that the weird part? You're talking about some kind
of World War. You speak of a second one when we haven't even had a
first one. Then the year 2000? The dawn of the new millennium. You
oughta stop falling asleep."
"But Derek you were in both dreams too."
"C'mon buddy. Hoover wants all the rookie FBI agents in the
briefing room. I'll buy you a drink."