A Match Made in The Hindu Kush
I'm not really sure what the fuck happened. The last thing I remembered before coming to in a dingy cellar surrounded by musty vegetables and the smell of goats and my own blood was being on the helo. Weeell, perhaps I should back it up a bit further. I joined up at seventeen. Dad was in the Army. A twenty year vet of Panama, the First Gulf War, and Kosovo before he was smart and got out before the gutting of the military by Clinton got his successor in trouble. I grew up knowing I was never...