In the Golden Triangle

Chapter 1: This Wasn't My Idea

Border Patrol Unit

Northwest Thailand

The deflated football bounced off the makeshift goal post and landed in the dirt with a thud. A stream of men filed after it and a series of grunts and curses ensued as the ball was punted towards the other side of the dirt field. The players on the field were in various states of undress as they sweated in the heat of midday. Large trees lined the impromptu field, but the shade couldn't defeat the thick humidity that clung to the jungle.

It was a soul sucking kind of humidity. It clung to your skin and made it hard to breathe. It was a surprise none of them had drowned in the dense atmosphere.

Kitt leaned back against the tree he was sitting under and blinked the sweat from his eyes. His uniform clung to him like a body cast, and the more he sweat the worse he felt. But it could be worse.

The mosquitos weren't out yet.

He sighed and scuffed his boots in the dirt. They hadn't been cleaned in weeks. Glancing down at their scuffed leather he remembered that there was a time where he would have been bothered by their appearance. That was before. Maybe someday he would laugh about it, but right now all he wanted to do was take a cold shower and park himself in front of a fan.

Brushing some of his dark hair from his eyes he continued watching the soccer game. Where did they get the energy? He wondered as they fumbled around the dirt patch that had been turned into their rec area.

A canteen was pushed into his vision and he took it without a word. Hin sat down beside him and drank from his own canteen. The tepid water wasn't exactly refreshing, but it didn't hurt.

"Are you going to join?" Kitt asked.

Hin didn't answer. He didn't need to. They had been friends for ten years and Kitt knew he wasn't likely to get an answer from the man.

Kitt glanced over at Hin and hated at how at ease he looked. Hin was never anything but at ease. His straight brown hair was pushed back from his face and he didn't even look like he was sweating. His angular face was calm and relaxed—thin eyebrows resting above light-colored eyes that always seemed to be laughing at something. Hin enjoyed his own private jokes.

"When are you meeting with Lt. Colonel Khamsi?" Hin asked after he replaced the cap on his canteen.

Kitt looked down at his own canteen and twisted his wrist to look at his watch. "In a few minutes."

Hin nodded and watched the game with a disinterested expression. Kitt hated talking with the Lt. Colonel. The man never made eye contact with Kitt and had soft hands. Couldn't trust a man with soft hands. It was only a cruel twist of fate that promoted Kitt rather than Hin. The bastard had managed to slip through the cracks and now Kitt was a Sergeant and responsible for the soldiers under him.

Two of the players ran into each other each other and went sprawling into the dirt. The larger of the two grabbed the other and shoved his face into the dirt, cackling as the smaller man spluttered into dirt.

This was Kitt's crack team of soldiers.

He wiped his forehead with his shoulder. "When was the last time you felt air conditioning?" he asked Hin.

"Three hundred days, sixteen hours, forty-four minutes." He answered without pause.

"Please tell me you made that up."