Consequence (27 page)

There is to be no redemption for me in Iraq.

9.8

I no longer sleep well. I no longer enjoy myself. A package from Karin arrives. It has the two mouthwash bottles filled with liquor. I send an email and ask for more.

I am not disgusted by my actions.
I am disgusted by how good it felt to wield power
I am terrified of where else that feeling might take me. In Iraq, I have not just taken the wrong path. I have walked in the wrong direction entirely.

9.9

My replacement arrives at the Baghdad airport. I drive one of the new armored vehicles to pick her up. The vehicle is an enormous Ford F-250 pickup truck. The armor is thick enough to stop the most advanced IEDs. The windows are so thick as to distort the view of the road. The headlights and taillights are encased in steel cages. The truck is equipped with an enormous engine and a custom suspension system in order to bear the crushing weight of all the armor. It is the safest vehicle I have ever driven, yet it will never leave Camp Victory.

The replacement is eager to get to work.
She says she heard I was at Abu Ghraib. She says, “That's impressive.”

At the office, I show her Minesweeper and the Pie Chart of Death. The pink section of my pie chart is just about complete. I have less than a week remaining. I show her the Ping-Pong table and where to get the best ham-and-cheese omelets. I tell her how to smuggle alcohol into the country. She says, “I don't think we're supposed to be doing that.”

At the last minute, another opportunity in Iraq becomes available. Another unit is looking for support. I have the necessary qualifications. It will extend my deployment an additional two months.
I volunteer, but my supervisor tells me it's time to go home, but I don't know how.