Nobody Asked Me…

Up to almost 70K words, but I need some feedback from my readers…

I’m doing something a bit different, and would like to know what you think. I’ve written a sequence where a number of characters come together for the first time, and do very short self intros. Since they don’t really ‘care’ about names, they only use first names in this sequence.

Do the short descriptors give you enough of a sense of the character’s capability and attitude???

Leaning against the table he said, “Quick and dirty around the room. Name, experience, if you’ve stacked, where you normally lined up and your task.” Putting a thumb in his chest he continued, “John Cronin. Ex-Green Beret, long before y’all were born. LEO with a DEA stint, and deputy sheriff for the last thirty years. Don’t do stacks. I’m overwatch, sniper and intel. Speak some Spanish.”

Huerta stood up, “Tomas Huerta, Mexican Marines. I am a lieutenant, your army equivalent of a captain. I am ten years experienced, a number of shootouts, raids and assorted interacciones against the cartels.” Wagging his left hand, he said, “I’m normally either stack lead or number three, I go left. I also do intelligence, and speak English, Spanish, German, and Portuguese. I am, how you say, loaned to you, for this exercise to provide liaison in case of issues with the Mexican government.”

“Thank you Tomas. Next?”

Bob stood, “Bob, ex Green Beanie, weaps and ops. I’m normally breacher and first in. I can get by in a few languages. Spanish is okay.”

The old man nodded, “Next?”

Aaron and Spears both stood, and Aaron waved to Spears as he sat back down. “Michelle, ex-Air Force, DHS, CBP, now DEA. Sniper, intel, and security. The few stacks I was in, I was number two, going right. Languages, well… Pashtu, Dari, Urdu, Farsi, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian. I was in Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom. And before you ask, yes I can and will shoot the bastards.” She sat back down with a glare around the room, as everyone chuckled.

The old man said, “I’ve seen her shoot under pressure. She took out two cartel shooters down on the border while she was under fire. She’s integral to this, due to the ragheads we’re expecting, so get over it.”

Aaron stood, “Aaron, Marine Recon. Sniper, primary spotter, intel, ops. Fallujah and various FOBs in the ‘Stans. Stack position was normally number four or five as high cover and overwatch. Little bit of Spanish, Pashtu and Dari.” Tapping his leg, “Prosthetic below the knee, but I’m fully operational.” The old man noted the speculative looks as Aaron sat and thought, Gonna have to let Aaron convince them. Once they see he’s good to go, it shouldn’t be an issue. Same with Spears.

Jeff popped up, “Jeff, Air Commandos, combat controller, rescue and exfil. Just Cause, Gulf war’s one and two. Coupla hundred jumps. Don’t do stacks, but I can learn. Looks like I’m the short straw here, but I can run an 870 pretty damn well.”

Willie stood and drawled, “Ex-grunt. Pigs and SAWs are my specialty. I pulled security or ambush control. I do the heavy lifting you scrawny pukes can’t handle. Also tracking if needed, spent a few years with the Shadow Wolves. English, Spanish, and a few tribal languages.”

The old man nodded, “Tohono[1]?”

Willie answered, “Yes sir. Born and raised on the res.”

“Any medical problems we need to worry about?”

“No sir, no diabetic issues, and I don’t drink. Seen what it’s done on the res to my people. Ain’t goin’ there.”

Duck popped up, “Duck Drake. Ex-SEAL. IDC medic type and weapons. I can do any position in the stack. Tagalog, Spanish, Pashtu, Irdu. I can do anything but open cranial in the field, so don’t get hit in the head. I also have things I’ll need if we need to interrogate anybody.”

The old man saw Spears shiver at that, and wondered what was up with her reaction.

Ron stood self-consciously, “Umm, Ron. Ex-Recon Marine. Shooter… I can do whatever you need. GWOT, Fallujah, ‘Stans. JTAC, comms, and intel. English.” He sat quickly, and looked over at Aaron with a nod. Aaron nodded back, something about Ron tickling the hindbrain, but not able to pull it up and actually remembering what he knew.

Maurice stood smiling, “I’m Mo Money.” Grinning he continued, Ex-Beret, engineer. You need something blown, I can do it. Plastique, Semtex, C4, improvised… Been there done that. I can also EOD if required. English, Spanish, portagee, Russian, Farsi, Urdu, and yo sister too!”

Bob said, “Mo, just sit down and shaddap. None o’ that rap shit down here.”

Maurice grinned again, “What’s the matter Bobby boy? I gettin’ under yo skin?”

Bob groaned, “Mo, you been getting under my skin for ten years now. One of these days I’m just gonna shoot your ass for the fun of it. I want to see if you can rap that crap with a bullet distracting you.”

Mo glanced slyly at Duck, “Man, you got some good stuff in yo pouch? Cause I work better when I got a toke or two before it gets hot.”

Duck shook his head and laughed, “Only if you get shot Mo, and maybe not even then.”

Mo grinned, “You just holding me down man. Tryin’ to keep my ass on the farm.”

Duck started up, “I hold your damn head underwater long enough, you’ll buy the farm.”

[1] Tohono O’odham- ‘Desert People’ tribe in the Sonora Desert (AZ and Mexico)

Any comments/feedback is appreciated…