yurek’s rescue mission   

 

Black Hawk Down fanfiction

Ed/Brad, PG

Summary: Yurek takes a stand against the D-boys to save his kittens.

A/N: An incident involving characters from the book.


~*~


“Okay!” Sergeant Brad Hallings was yelling. “Remind me. Who the fuck is the owner of those fucking kittens, again?!”


Ed looked up in surprise.


It was nine-thirty in the morning, and hotter than Georgia in mid-August. The Rangers who didn’t have specific duties at the hangar, Ed being one of those, had just returned from physical training out on the airstrip and were wiping down with whatever was handy. They were half exhilarated, half exhausted from the adrenaline rush.


The D-boys were just waking up.


As he’d returned to his cot area, Ed had seen a handful of them stretching lazily around their cots, scratching their heads and yawing as if they were waking up at the Marriot.


Somehow, though, Sergeant Hallings was now standing closer to Ed’s area with his hand spread and his gaze piercing in their general direction.


“They’re my kittens, Sergeant,” Ed said, hesitantly. He had no idea why Sgt. Hallings looked so pissed.


The Delta sergeant’s gaze locked on him. He dropped his hand and walked slowly towards him. Ed looked around in confusion, wondering what the hell was going on.


A few D-boys had appeared behind Sgt. Hallings, leaning on some stacked wooden crates around their cots, watching with what Ed could only describe as detached interest. The Rangers in the area had stopped what they were doing also and were staring wide-eyed at the scene.


Sgt. Hallings stopped a few feet from his cot and casually leaned against one of the crates.


“Listen,” he said slowly. “I’m a reasonable guy. But I really, really like my sleep. I don’t get that much of it, so I absolutely love what I do get. Do you know what I mean?”


Ed stared back at him, beginning to shake his head. Then he changed his mind and began nodding instead. Brad was tall, fierce, and built like a Greek god. And sometimes he wore a boar-tooth necklace he had made from all his “realistic training” outings on the Black Hawks.


He wasn’t wearing it now, and Ed didn’t want to feel intimidated, but his heart had started beating really strongly.


Right then, he felt soft lumps moving slowly against his ankles. He didn’t need to look down to know his kittens had come out from under his cot and wrapped themselves around his ankles. They meowed softly.


Ed watched the sergeant’s eyes narrow, and got even more confused.


“Your goddamned kittens,” he bit out, “kept me up half the goddamned night.”


Ed’s surprise steepened. “They did?” he replied in astonishment, his Georgian drawl accentuating strongly. “I don’t even hear the li’l darlin’s anymore.”


There were groans from all around. Sgt. Hallings’ eyes narrowed into slits. Ed swallowed convulsively.


“Is- is there something wrong, Sergeant Hallings?”


For a few moments, the sergeant didn’t speak, his jaw working slowly. “Those fucking kittens,” he finally gritted, enunciating every word, “have kept just about everyone in this area awake every fucking night.”


Ed was surprised to see even Rangers nodding. He looked at Waddell. “Really? Huh! ’Cause I don’t even hear ’em—”


“Son,” Brad sighed really deeply. “I have decided that I am going to silence your kittens for good.”


Ed stopped breathing altogether, even though his mouth was hanging wide open.


Sgt. Hallings continued. “I just thought you might want advance warning so you can say your farewells.”


Ed stared in abject horror at Sgt. Hallings, who he suddenly remembered was a Delta sniper. The D-boy was staring back at him, nodding slowly.


“Hey, Brad,” Sgt. Sanderson said breezily from somewhere behind Sgt. Hallings. He was leaning on another D-boy’s shoulder, his head propped in his hand. “You’re not really gonna murder someone’s kittens, are ya?”


Brad cocked his thumb and forefinger in the shape of a gun, and aimed it at Ed’s ankles.


Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Ed bent over and scooped up the kittens at his feet, plopping them one by one into his outstretched sweat soaked T-shirt.


He straightened and faced Sgt. Hallings with the kittens mashing about in his T-shirt, meowing loudly.


“Sergeant,” he said as calmly and clearly as his shaking voice would allow. “If you desire to so much as harm a hair on my babies, you will have to come through me.”


There was complete silence.


Ed thought his heart would burst right out of his chest. What in Lord’s name would he do if Sgt. Hallings took him up on his offer? Captain Steele was from Georgia, too. He wouldn’t let a D-boy turn one of his Rangers into cat food, would he? Plus, there were only a handful of D-boys around, and lots of Rangers. They would help out, wouldn’t they?


He began to pray.


Sgt. Hallings stared at him in shock. Then he began to blink in surprise.


“Whoohoo!” Sgt. Sanderson peeled, his eyes as wide as his grin. He slapped his thigh, then slapped Sgt. Hallings on the back. “Retreat and regroup, Brad!”


The tension in the air broke like a water canteen. Ed could hear his Rangers buddies cackling nervously, and the other D-boys were grinning and moving slowly out of the area.


Ed looked around nervously. So he had won? Waddell winked at him and went back to stripping off his wet clothes. Everyone just carried on like nothing had happened.


He realized that Sgt. Hallings hadn’t left with the rest of his friends. The sergeant was still leaning against the crate, watching him.


Ed willed his knees to not give in as he carefully dumped the kittens on his cot and pretended not to notice the scrutiny.


“What the fuck is up with you and those kittens, anyway?” the sergeant said from where was.


“Aw,” Ed replied, trying not to sound too freaked out, like he faced down a possible maiming everyday. “I got a whole farm of ’em back home, Sergeant Hallings.”


Sgt. Hallings didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then he straightened and began to walk over.


Ed froze, staring down at his kittens, his body braced for anything.


The Delta sergeant got very close to him and leaned down. “Call me Brad,” he said quietly. “And c’mere, I wanna talk to you.”


He turned and started walking towards the back hangar doors.


Ed glanced around at his buddies, some of whom shrugged back at him. He took a calming breath, then sprinted to catch up with Sergeant— with Brad, his heart now pounding in an entirely different manner.


~*~