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IMJack

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About IMJack

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  1. I'm stupid enough to post a two-fer tonight.

    Charles Brown had been in the Army for a long time.

    He’d enlisted straight out of high school, literally walking off the hangover from the graduation party on his way to the recruitment center. It was either that, or go to state college with the same people he’d known since elementary school. He’d decided that, no mater what, he had to get out of St. Paul.

    That was 1969. This was 2030. In the time between, he’d fought one war in Vietnam, two in Afghanistan, three in Iraq (he’d been out wounded for the fourth), one in South Africa, and a brief one in China, not to mention countless police actions and interventions in the meantime.

    Over the course of his career, he had advanced from boot Private to First Sergeant before being accepted to OCS, and then had worked his way through the officer ranks to full General. In the meantime, he had learned how to fight in jungles, in deserts, in cities, in mountains, and in tundra; he had been through infantry school, dive school, jump school, SEAL school, Ranger school, and had even been in the only class of the failed Space Infantry School experiment. He had even taken part in a number of human experiments before such things were shut down.

    Charlie was the kind of guy who was going to stay in the Army, on active combat duty, until it finally killed him. Or he would, if he thought he could still be killed. As it was, once the warrior life got boring, he was planning to wait for a convenient death scene and then slip away, lie low for a few years, and then perhaps start over in the Navy or something. But for now, he had a duty to perform.

    Lots of duties. The Army knew a good man when they saw one, and Charlie Brown was worth a platoon of them.

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