A Letter Home from Underground
Written for the 10_letters challenge, for the situation table. The prompt for this letter was the word underground
Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings/Spoilers : This letter is written during the movie and as such makes reference to those events so can be considered spoilery. There will be ten letters in all. They are not written/posted in chronological order.
I always thought nothing could ever be as hard as the day I had to tell you that I'd enlisted. Turns out I was wrong. Shit! I have no idea where to even start with this.
Do I need to tell you that I'm not dead? Probably just to be sure. That I didn't go against orders? That's a probably too, right? That I didn't deliberately do anything to hurt all of those children? No, I figure you know that one. . . You know that none of us would have willing done anything to hurt children. Would you believe me if I told you we were trying to get them out? Trying to save them? We were going to hike out through the jungle and let that chopper take the children to safety, but turns out they already intended to shoot it down. Shoot US down.
I wish things could be different. I wish I could be home with you, going to see the Little League games. I wish . . .
Pooch is safe and Carlos. We're looking out for each other. You'll look out for Jolene, right? And her little one when it comes? I'm stupid; I know I don't need to ask you to do that. You'll be each other's family until we can come home. Please.
For now, we've gone underground. We're trying to stay out of sight and just gather intel for the time being. We need to work out who did this to us, where they are, how they did it. We need to be able to turn the tables on them. You understand that, don't you? You know that no matter how much I want to come home, I can't right now. This isn't about me or the team anymore. It's about keeping you safe and about stopping whatever it is that we're dancing on the edges of.
I haven't mentioned Roque or Clay. They're here and, for the moment, they're safe. It's difficult to say how long that will last. Clay's grasping at straws, anything that might give us some answers and, of course, the fact those answers are being presented in a pretty female form isn't worrying at all for the rest of us. We all know how this plays out, but with no one else to talk to, no other immediate sources of information, he's taking the only one being offered.
Roque is unimpressed. Actually you know what, that doesn't begin to touch it. Roque is pissed, big time pissed, permanently up in Clay's face pissed and drawing a gun on the informant pissed. It isn't pretty.
The rest of us are walking on egg shells, always on guard to pull the two of them apart before they kill each other. We have to hope we don't implode before we get the answers we need to be able to come home.
It's all we want. Home. Family. An end to the lies.
I'm sorry for everything that you'll be going through. If I'd ever imagined that this would happen, I would never have enlisted in the first place. Is it too late to tell you, you were right? For all the wrong reasons, you were right.
I love you both. I'll be home as soon as I safely can.
I'm sorry I can't send you this, but I can't endanger you, so you'll probably never even know this much. In my heart, I have to believe though that you do know everything I've told you here, most of all that I love you both and I never intended any of this to happen, any of those children to be hurt.