. Here is the mother-fucker's photo!" the major tossed a photo
oable showing a lanky Asian, probably about 46-year-old.
"How did we get this photo?" Dwight raised his brows.
"You don't believe it," the Major snorted in open disgust," we traihat
piece of shit at West Point! The brass calls it "cross-cultural
de-escalation". Cross-culture fuck my arse! That's what we get for our
generous de-escalation."
"So, what ...?" Dwight shot a questioning look to his superior.
"Hank is in Iraq and won't be back for at least 10 months," the Major's lips
curled in a small devilish grin. "So - given the circumstances -- we will
send a man who handle a bunch of North-Korean fags, because ..."
"What?!" Dwight's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
" ... because he is a fag himself." The Major finished now with an undisguised
sneer.
"B-but, but ... Sir ... I don't know Korea at all," Dwight sputtered.
"Bullshit Sarge, we will put an advisor at your side, " the Major walked
around his desk and hugged almost cheerfully the obviously devastated
soldier. Both knew each other very well. Dwight had saved O'Rourke 4 years
ago, when a gang dealing teenagers had almost mao overpower
the former Captain and seize the drugs fiscated at the base. The young
Corporal had made a perfect career always supported by a grateful Captain
O'Rourke who had been promoted Major sihen.
"Dwight, I need you for that job. We ot risk sending in a ... hm ...
straight squad. You know uys. All fine soldiers and tough fighters, but
if they see a chid smell t they get trolled by their dicks. We
know that the North-Koreans have specialized agents who are traio
seduce Westerners and who are only waiting for a squad of horny marines.
You decide who will be on your team, take your time, I'll back you up and
I'll get you someone who knows