G Hopf - The End

“We were on patrol to the west when we heard the gunfire. We have been in the area doing reconnaissance on the Villista Cartel.”

“Cartel?” Nelson asked.

“Yes, sir, that is what we’re calling them. They are an offshoot of the Tijuana Cartel that has now crossed over and is operating in San Diego County. We believe they are using the name Villista to help draw support from the local Hispanic community.”

“What’s up with the name Villista, by the way?” Nelson asked, while he wiped the blood off of Gordon.

“Sir, it—”

Looking up Nelson said, “Hey, Marine, no need to call me sir, okay?”

“Ah, okay. Sorry, just trying to be respectful, doctor.”

“By the way, I’m not a doctor; I’m a paramedic; that’s all.”

“Ah, okay.”

“So, Villista?”

“Yes, the Villista name comes from the early 20 thcentury, when Pancho Villa and his revolutionary guard were at war with the United States. We believe that the Tijuana Cartel is taking advantage of the situation and attempting to secure a foothold here.”

“So how did you happen upon Gordon and Jimmy?”

“We heard the gunfight from about a click away. When we arrived, we saw your friend here get shot in the chest and fall. We opened fire on the Villistas with our .50 cal. We took most of them out. Then out of nowhere came the man who was just here and he told us we needed to help his friend here.”

“So you saw no one else?”

“We saw another one of your guys and he was dead, I don’t know who he was.”

Just then, Gordon started to move his head back and forth. Gordon briefly opened his eyes but just as quick as he opened them they were closed.

“Hey buddy. You’re going to be okay,” Nelson calmly said to him.

Gordon just nodded slowly and attempted to say something but his voice was unintelligible.

“You have nothing to worry about, I haven’t started drinking yet,” Nelson said with a grin. Nelson’s humor and cool temperament were always available, no matter the situation.

The front door burst open, Samantha came running in. Seeing Nelson in the dining room standing over Gordon, she wasted no time and ran to him.

“Oh my God!” she said, grabbing Gordon’s hand.

Gordon opened his eyes and looked at her.

She leaned over and kissed him several times on his face.

“Oh baby, what happened?” she said caressing his face.

He kept looking at her but the fatigue from the loss of blood made it difficult to stay conscious. His eyes closed again as he slipped back into the darkness.

Nelson interrupted and asked, “Samantha, what is Gordon’s blood type?”

“Ah, what?” she responded with a question. Her focus was on Gordon.

“What is Gordon’s blood type?” he asked again.

“Oh, ah; he’s B positive.”

“Great, thank you.”

Pulling Jimmy aside, he explained the situation. Nelson needed Jimmy to literally go door to door to find someone who had either B positive or O negative blood. There was no time to waste, as the blood loss would eventually kill Gordon.

Jimmy took off.

“Will he make it?” Samantha asked, turning to Nelson.

“Samantha, you’ve known me for a long time and you know I don’t bullshit around when it come to things like this. I feel that he will make it but our window is closing. He’s lost a lot of blood and if we don’t get him some, he will die. Jimmy is out finding someone who is a compatible donor now.”

Samantha was a very emotional woman, and typically something like this would have caused her to start crying but she needed to be strong. She looked Nelson right in the eyes and told him, “Do what you have to, do not let my husband die. Do you hear me? Do whatever you need to.”

“I will Samantha, I promise you; I will.”

USS Makin Island , Pacific Ocean

“Call General Quarters!” Barone yelled as he heard the news that the USS New Orleans was no longer under his control.

“What do we know, I need information people!” he barked on the bridge of the ship.

He grabbed a set of binoculars and looked at the USS New Orleans . The ship had slowed down and started to pull away from them, headed in a southerly direction.

“Get whoever is in charge over there on the radio now!” Barone yelled.

“Sir, we have someone,” the communications Petty Officer said.

Barone walked over to a handheld and picked it up.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Barone, commander of the 2 ndBattalion 4 thMarine Regiment, who is this?”

“Colonel Barone, this is Captain Newsom, the commanding officer of the USS New Orleans . I have retaken my ship.”

Barone’s anger welled up inside him. He wanted to yell at the captain but he needed to remain calm and think critically.

“Captain, what have you done with my men?”

“Sir your men are all being held in their berthing areas under arrest for treason and mutiny.”

“I don’t want trouble, Captain Newsom; all I want are my men.”

“Colonel Barone, that is not going to happen. We are heading toward Hawaii, there your men will be dropped off and be held accountable for the acts they have committed against the United States. I only wish that you could be brought to justice with them.”

“Captain Newsom, all we wish to do is go home and protect our families. So I am asking you as an officer and a gentleman, let my men go. We can have them transported over to the Makin Island or other ships under my command in exchange for men we have.”

“That will not happen colonel.”

“Listen captain, I don’t have time for your bullshit hero stuff. If my men are not turned over to me, we will attack your ship.”

“What will that get you, colonel? If you destroy the New Orleans your men will die.”

“Do I look like a man that will bluff, captain? You are talking to someone who has seized a United States naval amphib group and attacked a U.S. military installation. I mean what I say. Now you have 15 minutes to get back to me or I will launch my Harriers,” Barone slammed the receiver down.

Barone looked around; all eyes were fixed on him with anticipation of his next command.

“Mr. Montgomery!” Barone barked.

“Yes sir.”

“Prepare our jump jets for an attack on the USS New Orleans .”

“What I hate the most is being locked up during GQ. I mean what if the ship gets hit with a missile or something? We’ll drown down here,” Tomlinson said lying in his bunk.

“I have to agree with you. It always makes me a bit nervous, too,” Sebastian replied.

“What do you think is going on now?” Tomlinson asked.

“God knows, the whole fucking world is turned upside down. This doesn’t surprise me.”

“I guess you’re right.”

The berthing area hatch opened up. A Marine officer stepped in and walked over to Gunny Smith.

“So do you—”

“Sssh.”

“Huh?”

“Shut up!” Sebastian snapped at Tomlinson. He was trying to overhear Gunny’s conversation.

“Corporal Van Zandt, get over here,” Gunny yelled.

“Yes, Gunny,” Sebastian shot up out of the bunk and walked quickly over to Gunny.

“Sgt. Jennings, you too,” Gunny said.

Jennings was new to the unit; he had transferred over from the 1 stBattalion 1 stMarine Regiment when Sebastian’s unit came on board. He was tall, lean and when he spoke there was no mistaking that he hailed from the Deep South.

“I need you two to get your sniper teams in place. We need one team on the starboard and the other on the port side. We need you to assist in watching over the boats that are transporting Marines from the New Orleans .”