Foot traffic was generally harmless, if they stayed away from Zulu. We didn’t man the inspection points out on the road, since that was done by the Iraqi Army. Letting the infidels (us) near their women was a lousy idea. Also, if we were outside of the wall at Zulu, we were even more vulnerable. We stayed inside and supervised, calling in updates over the radio and letting Hamza, our interpreter, talk to the locals.After my experiences at Camp Custer, I just didn’t trust the Iraqis, including the interpreters. I believed they were as much a lying bag of shit as every other Iraqi I saw every day. That belief was severely tested my third day at Zulu. There was some routine foot traffic that day, and I was the NCO on watch that morning. It was a bit before 1100, and we were expecting a convoy coming through mid-afternoon from Anaconda Two. The Iraqi Army outposts were both manned, but understrength, which was nothing new. They were letting foot traffic through, along with pushcarts, but. She kissed me softly and then traced her tongue down my ear and lightly blew steamy hot air into my ear. “Does that answer your question?”, she asked. Embracing the moment, I replied “not quite, let’s see”. I slipped my hand under Cindy’s dress and all the way up her thigh until I reached her panties. She drew a quick breath and stopped my hand from progressing further. “I’m sorry, this is going so fast, can we stop for a minute?”, Cindy asked. “I’ll be right back”, She kissed me on the cheek, grabbed her cell phone and headed to the guest bedroom next to the woodstove. I hardly knew what to think at that point. Cindy had come on strong for the last hour, but was seemingly getting cold feet. During her absence, I reflected on whether I was getting carried away and putting both my relationship with Jess and our friendship with Alex and Cindy at terrible risk. I resolved to behave and curb my recklessness. My thoughts also drifted to what Jess was doing upstairs. Should I check on her?.
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