Rita Royale. Terry Jr. Anderson
hard. Learned about her enemy. Some nights she would lay back and think of Sarah and Wally and June. Of home made stout and knitted afghans. She wore her moccasins when not on duty.
There were some good evenings too. The times when some of the guys would play poker. At first they thought Rita would be a pushover. They soon discovered she could play. She usually left the game with more money than she started with.
Toward the end of April the weather had improved, the snow all gone, leaves optimistically sprouting from the trees on the base, birds could be heard chirping now, glad that winter had mostly left the scene. Rita was in her quarters packing up her gear as her squad was moving out in less than an hour. She knew they were going somewhere. Where exactly she didn’t know.
She rode in the back of a covered truck, benches lining both sides, sitting next to and across from faces she knew so well now. Friends even. People she trusted. Respected. A close group of nine including Sergeant Gill Douglas. All dressed in black from their boots to their knitted caps. Each carried an M-16 rifle, 9 mm pistol and other survival equipment. Rita knew her weapons well. Even the boot knife she carried. She believed the truck was heading in a southerly direction, though she didn’t ask her sergeant.
After a few bumpy hours the truck stopped at a farm and they were finally allowed to get off and stretch their legs and get something to eat. Sergeant Gill told the squad they would spend the night here. They could sleep in the barn on the hay. Rita could take the loft.
The farmer and his wife fed the squad steaks barbecued, potatoes, carrots, fresh bread and hot apple pie. It was dark when they finished eating and they were allowed to relax for a couple hours before hitting the hay.
Rita went inside the barn and climbed the old wooden stairs to the loft where she found a cozy spot and rolled out her sleeping bag. She lay on top of the bag looking up at the darkened planks of old wood, a dim light rising up from the floor below, hay dust hanging, sparkling in the still air. She heard someone climbing the stairs and looked in that direction. Soon saw the face of Diz. She thought it was probably short for Dizzy.
He looked at her. “Feel like a game of cards, Rita?”
“Sure. I’ll play.” She watched him leave the last stair and move onto the loft, followed quickly by another young man named Drew. He looked at her and smiled.
They quickly set up a table using an old wooden crate and sat cross legged on the straw covered floor. Drew produced a deck of cards from his pocket.
Diz looked at Rita, glanced at the outline of her large bra free breasts cruelly hidden under her black t-shirt. “I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s not play for money. Up for a little strip poker, Rita?”
She smiled, studied his young face. A face new to a razor. “You really want to see my tits, don’t you Diz?”
He grinned, nodded. “I really do, Rita.”
She glanced at Drew who just smiled. She said. “Okay. I pick the game.”
The two men nodded.
“Five card draw. Maximum three cards.”
Diz looked at her. “Okay. But let’s keep this simple. We only have three things to remove. Shirt, pants and underwear. No shoe laces and boots and all that. You lose three hands and you have to stand naked in your boots for a full minute.” He looked at her. “And the first item to come off is the top, then the pants and last the underwear.”
“Shirt, pants and panties.” She smiled. “Got it. Cut for deal?”
Rita put her hand in her pocket, felt the two dollar coin, picked up her cards. She had a pair of kings and some rag cards. She drew three cards. Diz took three and Drew took one card. She looked at the new cards, spotted the third king right away. They lay their cards on the table.
“Damn,” said Diz as he threw down his pair of jacks.
“Beats my nothing hand,” said Drew.
Rita watched them both remove their shirts, their lean mean fighting bodies. Very nice, she thought. She smiled at both of them.
Drew dealt the next hand. Rita looked at a king, queen, jack and a ten. All different suits. She discarded the two of diamonds. Hoped to draw a nine or an ace. She drew the ace. They lay down their cards.
Diz just looked at her. “How is that possible? An ace high straight?”
Rita smiled like a fox. “Just lucky I guess.” She watched them both stand to their feet and drop their pants to their boots and sit back down uncomfortably.
Rita dealt the next hand. She looked at a pair of twos. Immediately thought of Danny the deuce, her old friend. She touched her shoulder where the bullet scar lay hidden under her shirt. She drew three cards. Hit another deuce.
Diz threw down his cards in disgust. “No one can be that lucky, Rita.”
She looked at both of them. “Okay boys, off with the panties. I’m going to enjoy the next minute.”
They both stood slowly to their feet, reluctantly lowered their briefs to the top of their pants already down at their boots. They stood straight and tall, averted their eyes, looked up at the roof.
Rita whistled softly. “My my. What do we have here? I’ll have to study this situation closer. I just can’t decide which one I like better.”
They refused to look at her. Or each other. A minute had to be up by now they were thinking.
“Still thirty seconds to go.” Rita glanced at her watch. “Mm, such fine young pieces of manhood. I really can’t decide which I prefer.”
“Come on, Rita. Its been a minute,” said Diz.
She took a last look at their dangling bits. “Okay. Its a minute.” She smiled as they quickly dressed.
Diz stared at her. “One day, Rita. One day I’m going to enjoy watching you stand naked while I look at all of you. Especially your tits.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe about it.”
They heard the others enter the barn and Drew and Diz left the loft, climbed back down the wooden stairs. Rita removed her boots, still smiling, crawled into her bag still dressed. She put her hand in her pocket, felt the two dollar coin, removed her hand slowly, undid her fly and slid her hand slowly between her open legs, closed her eyes and let out her breath in one long motion.
The next morning the squad was fed a good breakfast of bacon and eggs and hot strong coffee. Afterward they all met in the barn together where Sergeant Gill was going to explain the operation.
“Okay listen up. You too, Diz.” The sergeant looked at his charge. “Just down the road about a klick or so, is a thicket of trees and brush on both sides. And in those thickets we’re going to wait for a van coming in from Manitoba. A van with guns for the enemy. Intelligence seems to think they’re headed for Regina. It doesn’t matter where, because we’re going to stop that van. I would like to get the weapons intact, but the prime directive is to stop it. Period. We may be in there a while and I want you all to stay alert.”
Rita raised her hand.
“What is it, Rita?”
“Where are we, Sergeant?”
“We’re still in Saskatchewan. Close to the Manitoba border.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
He looked at the others. “Any other questions? No? When we get to the spot I want a man with a launcher on either side of the road. I want us spaced apart and catch them in a cross fire. I’m hoping its just the van, but be alert for other transport as well. Remember. The mission is to stop them.” Sergeant Gill looked at all of them closely. “Okay. Grab your gear and let’s get moving.”
The nine members of the squad walked in single file along the gravel road, the morning cool, overcast, light flakes of snow falling, a wind coming