Better for Everyone

Chapter 6: Coding Chaos

"Well, you better throw it up," Private Smith said. "It's endangered."

"Okay, but I think to force it up I need the hind-lick maneuver-" Specialist Castro bent over just as Sergeant Hale approached.

"Quit screwing around," Sergeant Hale said. "Take this serious. Everybody green?"

"Green, green, green." the soldiers replied in unison.

"Alright, Bravo Team," Sergeant Hale said. "Move out."

The fire team set out at a jog down the runway. A mile and a half away lay a large two-story square building made out of plywood. Their company's mission was to capture the building. What happened after that, nobody knew. Whoever was planning this mission kept tight lipped about what they were actually training for.

The team moved past the edge of the runway. They caught up with the rest of Company A and took a moment to reorganize. During the pause, Private Akers watched a Humvee tow a strange looking trailer down the runway. The trailer had a short, thick, pipe-like arm that jutted up from the trailer bed pointing forward at 45 degrees.

"What's that?" Private Akers asked.

"It's a MICLIC," Sergeant Hale said, pronouncing it like "Mick-Lick."

"Is that like an Irish lesbian?" Specialist Castro said.

"No, not like a -" Sergeant Hale scrunched up his face. "You know, Jesus Christ is a personal friend of mine and I don't think he would appreciate you talking like that. It's a mine clearing vehicle. It shoots out an explosive line to help clear minefields. Mine Clearing Line Charge. MICLIC."

"Who the heck are we rescuing that lives in a minefield?" Private Akers asked.

"Maybe they're putting those handmaids behind them so they don't escape?" Private Smith said.

The unit pushed forward, toward the plywood building. This was just a walk-through, so they weren't firing live rounds, but as the unit got closer to the plywood building, they assaulted and cleared several fake bunkers. They paused after clearing the bunkers. The MICLIC was brought up. Some engineers pretended to fire the MICLIC at the building. Then the engineers ran across the no-man's land with engineer tape, creating a safe path roughly the size of a double-car driveway through the fake minefield.

Company A took up perimeter duty. Private Akers and his team did their part - one small cog in a massive wheel of maneuver as they faced east and prepared for counterattack. Company B assaulted the building. Company C secured the rest of the airstrip to the north as Company D used their Hummers to speed down the safe path through the minefield. The vehicles returned, loaded with what looked like bricks.

"If this is a rescue mission," Private Akers said, "what the heck are we rescuing?"

"I don't know," Specialist Castro said. "But she's built like a brick shithouse."

Downtown Honolulu, Hawaii. USA.

Programming was never Marty Wolf's forte. He had been self-taught back in the 90's when anyone with a little bit of knowledge could throw up a website and start selling things online. Back then Marty had been a two-bit pornographer - heir to his father's fading dynasty of adult theaters and adult novelty stores that were spread around Georgia and Florida.

Marty spent his middle school years book keeping and purchasing in the scummy, smoke-filled backroom of one of his father's larger establishments. By high school, Marty was driving from theater to theater collecting greasy dollars from peep show booths. When the late 80's rolled around, Marty realized that the adult store would soon be an anachronism. Although adult theaters provided instant gratification, they were no longer the only game in town. People could order a wider or more specific selection of porn through the mail, and the mail order distributors could operate at much lower margins. Mail order VHS tapes would destroy the family-owned adult theater and Marty didn't see a way out.