Seven Years (#3 in Military Series)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Helmand province. A few weeks later.

"Aah," Jules groaned as they came back from their third patrol that week covered in sand and dust, "I can't wait to hit the showers."

"Hey, Jules," Harris shouted, "I don't mind joining you!"

"Piss off, Harris!" Jules flipped him off.

"One day, Jules, one day." Harris laughed.

"Yeah, when hell freezes over," Jules chuckled. The last few weeks had helped to integrate Jules and Carlos into the pack.

Matt Kipling still had his suspicions but he hadn't raised them since the plane. Nobody else shared his thoughts and he had already been laughed at once, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

Which is exactly where Jules liked them being kept.

"Good shooting today," Carlos slapped her on the shoulder as they headed back to their separate tents.

Jules scoffed as she held up her British issue weapon, "With these weapons? I miss my sniper rifle."

Carlos looked at her, "You know they can't do that. You're just a regular foot marine now, not a sniper."

"I know, I know," Jules sighed, feeling like she had just been told off by a parent, "I'm going to grab a shower before chow. See you in the canteen?"

"See ya," Carlos gave her a small two-fingered salute which had become their thing in the Special Tasks Force.

Jules returned it, half-heartedly, and went in the opposite direction.

As the only female in the camp, Jules had her own tent which she was very possessive about.

Dropping her weapon and pack onto an empty cot, she sat on the edge of her bed and bent over to untie her boots.

As she did so, a photograph fell from her opened breast pocket.

Her fingers paused where they were, half-way through untying her laces, as she saw the photograph staring up at her.

Swallowing, she reached out and picked up the piece of paper.

It was the size of a mug coaster, the edges had been bent and were coming apart but the image was still sharp.

Jules had managed to smuggle it out of Jackson's belongings before Ridgeway had them carted away for inspection.

She couldn't remember Jackson having it but she was glad he did, and she was even happier that she had found it when she did.

Her memories and this photograph were the only evidence that those last few years existed. Jules was beginning to already doubt her memories but she could not doubt this photograph.

It was taken sometime during their second mission together; Jules would remember that forest from anywhere.

They were all leant against a local jeep, parked in the thick woodlands. Jackson's mum had bought him a Polaroid camera for Christmas and he had sneaked it into his pack.

He had perched it between a tree and set up a small trip wire that dropped a small rock onto the button, to take the picture.

They were laughing because it had taken half a dozen takes to get the rock to fall right and they questioning Jackson's engineering skills.

 The camera had been lost in the mission. She assumed the picture had been lost too.

Ridgeway had banned all type of photographic evidence but this managed to survive.