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    Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf
    Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf
    Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf
    Ebook149 pages2 hours

    Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf

    By Sheldon Charles

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    About this ebook

    A struggling writer. A team of U.S. soldiers. A fight for their lives. A battle for his soul.

    Writer Evan Davis desperately needs to find his muse to finish his book. As the impossible deadline approaches with a virtually nonexistent wordcount, his agent presents him with a unique reprieve: Gain a delay by becoming a press embed with U.S. troops going to Central Asia. Davis sees it as an unlikely place to rediscover his muse but lacks any alternative. After being presented with an odd luck talisman of three paperclips by a friend, he travels with his assigned unit to Afghanistan. There he is out of his comfort zone and pushed into a world where friendships are vital, and lives are on the line. His problems pale in comparison to what these brave men must face daily. As Davis begins to write about their daily hardships, he rediscovers his love of the written word. He also finds a use for each of his talismans, as they save his life and those of the men he comes to regard as his team; soldiers who promised each other they would all make it home in one piece.

    Follow Evan’s journey as he finds his muse in the most unlikely place under the most extraordinary circumstances.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSheldon Charles
    Release dateAug 31, 2017
    ISBN9781370909476
    Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf
    Author

    Sheldon Charles

    Sheldon Charles is a decorated Air Force veteran, whose career has taken him around the globe, and given his writing a unique international flair. He is the author of "Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf", "Blood Upon the Sands" and "From Within the Firebird’s Nest". His last book ("From Within the Firebird’s Nest", the third book in the Evan Davis Trilogy) held the Number One Bestseller spot for Russian Historical Fiction, and was in the Top Ten for War Fiction, for 2018. Sheldon currently resides in Michigan, where he is a member of Michigan Writers.

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      Book preview

      Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf - Sheldon Charles

      Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf

      By Sheldon Charles

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      Three Paperclips & a Grey Scarf by Sheldon Charles, Published by Valkyrie Spirit Publishing

      Copyright © 2012-21 Valkyrie Spirit Publishing, All Rights Reserved

      Cover photography: Valkyrie Spirit Publishing © 2012-21

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests contact: Valkyrie Spirit Publishing, PO Box 4357, Battle Creek, MI 49016-4357.

      ISBN: 9781733958844 (ePub)

      Available in ePub & Audiobook

      Dedication

      This book is dedicated to the men and women of the United States Armed Forces. They have sworn to defend the US Constitution and in doing so have become a defending force for the oppressed populations of the world. May God bless them and may they all make it home safely.

      Table of Contents

      Dedication

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      About the Author

      From the Author

      Chapter One

      Murphenwal the Sandee basher! with that Turner looked at the men seated around him waiting for a reaction. After a second or two of silence, they all raised their glasses and cheered.

      Dayum schwait! he said with a nod before taking a large sip of his first ever margarita. He then wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and sat down his face beaming.

      I didn’t understand a word of what he said, Davis whispered leaning towards Vazquez so the rest of the group would not hear.

      Neither do we, none of us can understand him with his teeth out – but he is a good soldier. You know whatever he said was heartfelt and patriotic, said Vazquez in a low voice.

      Turner had lost most of his teeth in an auto accident as a teen, but it wasn’t until he came in the Army that he was given replacements. As a result, he often forgot to put them in when heading out.

      Davis smiled and thought to himself, and totally undecipherable, he then downed his third shot of Tequila and looked at the young soldiers around him. He had been reminded many times in the past week of the large gap between his age and theirs. Davis had grown sons about the same age, which enabled him to converse with them in a vocabulary they understood; but there were several points when the difference in age was clearly pointed out to him.

      How he ended up here was a story unto itself. Davis let his mind wander back to that fateful conversation as the tequila burned its way down his throat.

      Look Evan, the publisher loved the first half of the book – not enough for an advance but enough that they cut a contract with you to publish it. Now almost 6 months later they are still waiting on the rest of the story and you haven’t written a word.

      Davis sat back in his desk chair, took the phone from his ear, and closed his eyes; he knew his agent was right. It had been weeks since he even gave the story serious thought.

      It’s just writer’s block. I will get beyond it and finish the book soon. I just need some time Arlen.

      You are out of time. The only way they will give you any additional time is if they knew for sure you had a competing project, which they might also be interested in.

      Like what? he said in resignation. Davis’ head hurt, writing had been so easy until he sat down to actually do it full time then the words just wouldn’t come.

      The publisher has managed to get an embed opportunity with an Army unit going to Afghanistan. They need a writer to go along for a few months and write some puff pieces on the troops, the agent said

      Afghanistan? Arlen, I’m over 40. War is a young man’s thing.

      Didn’t you do some time in the service?

      Air Force but that was almost two decades ago. Davis’ head was really throbbing now

      You can do it. It will get you out of the house for a bit and will give you some time to get your muse back for your novel, Arlen stated in a more forceful tone.

      Yeah, right.

      Bottom line, it will save your book and there is a paycheck attached, Arlen said flatly letting Davis know this was a last and final try.

      Fine, Davis gave up. He needed to save his novel. He needed the money.

      Three weeks later Evan Davis found himself sitting in a steakhouse in the heart of Georgia surrounded by a squad of nine soldiers with whom he had just completed a week of intense training. A little over eight hours from now all of them would join several hundred others and board a plane headed to Afghanistan. Davis’ stomach hurt, not due to fear of death but fear of failure.

      LT, Mr. Davis, and my fellow soldiers, Erenson began. This is my second tour and may not be my last. I am holding you guys accountable, he said as he used his beer to motion toward the assembled men, to get my ass back here in one piece -- and able to grab a piece. Hoo-Wah! he then downed a large gulp of beer and sat down to enjoy the applause of those he had just charged with his personal protection.

      These individual speeches were Vazquez’s idea. He said every time he had deployed, those attending the Last Supper would each take time to speak their mind on any subject they wished. Most spoke about their fellow soldiers, families or patriotism; but as they progressed, they got a little more abstract as the choice words were taken by predecessors.

      Rasmussen now arose and stretched out his heavily tattooed arm, offering one and all a view of his mug of beer.

      And now a song, he said clearing his throat. Those assembled cheered, pounded on the table with their fists, and started saying Raz! in unison.

      The pounding on the table masked the vibration of his phone, but looking down Davis saw from the screen Arlen was calling. Since it was his last night in the US, he decided he better take it so he grabbed the phone and headed towards the door as Rasmussen started to sing. Davis actually enjoyed Raz’s self-written songs and hated to miss this one, but business called.

      Hey Arlen, Davis said as he pushed the Answer button on the phone.

      Glad I caught you. A few reminders buddy. Don’t forget to file 500 words every 3 days; it will keep you ahead of deadline. Let the publisher decide what a good story is; just send in your version of what is going on. Finally, don’t try to be artsy, starting now you are a reporter. Got it?

      Davis sighed then said, Yeah.

      Who, what, when and where – don’t worry about why. Now be safe and hurry home. You need to get back to work on the book you owe me, Arlen hung up.

      Whatever, Davis said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Then he took a moment to take some deep breaths and calm down before he went back in.

      When Davis got back to the table Raz had been joined in song by Erenson and the two were standing with the arms across each other’s shoulders flatly singing the final note of Rasmussen’s latest creation. Davis took his seat while cheering and the sound of slamming beer mugs filled the air.

      Turnsdunn, Darnell, and Samuels all took their turns. Each did their best to say they were for the flag but primarily they were there for each other and wanted to insure all present they would do whatever it took to bring everyone back alive. Each speech ended with a patriotic tagline, followed by a cheer or a Hoo-Wah!

      Schmidt stood up and in a soft voice sang the opening lines of Amazing Grace, which silenced them all.

      When everyone was quiet, he reached forward and took his beer and said, All of us here now, will come home together. Tracking? to which every man at the table replied Tracking.

      No one will be left in the ‘stan and no one leaves their life or any part of them behind. Tracking? every man in a slightly louder voice replied Tracking.

      We will do our mission better than any other unit in the Army and come home with heads held high. Tracking?

      Tracking

      And we will take down any Taliban mother who gets in our damn way. Tracking?

      Tracking!

      Hoo-Wah! Schmidt said and before chugging his beer.

      Tracking! the group responded and each downed their own drink following his example.

      Now you know why everyone calls him Deacon behind his back, he knows how to get everyone riled up, Vazquez said. Then turning towards Davis he added; Now it’s your turn.

      Huh? I am just an observer – I have no idea what to say, Davis protested.

      The protest was a little too loud and Erenson heard it and started to bang his glass with his knife in time saying Davis. Davis. Davis. Soon the entire table had joined in and Davis rose to his feet not sure what he was going to say.

      Uh – you are probably wondering why I have called you all here tonight. Ah, seriously thank you for welcoming me into your team, Davis said.

      Like we had a choice! Darnell called out, in a good-natured jab.

      And I appreciate your offer to protect me while I am with you. Nothing like knowing I have nine expert trigger pullers surrounding me.

      Hey, you qual’ed too, Rasmussen said.

      "Wow, soldiers protected by the free

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