Freedom Earned

  Freedom Earned

  J.D. Stone

  Copyright © 2020 by J.D. Stone

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  About the Author

  1

  It always struck me as odd that I joined the Marines to fight a war, but it wasn’t until I essentially went AWOL that I was put into my first kill-or-be-killed situation.

  One week of leave following my deployment overseas was all the Corps gave me. I meant to use it wisely. On my way back to my base in Okinawa, I chose to stop by mainland Japan to visit my good pal, Jason. Jason and Tyler, two peas in a pod, everyone had always said about us. That was before I went off to join the Marines and he did the whole college thing. That led to him going on to teach English in Japanese schools through a program they called JET.

  Having the chance to visit him after several near-death experiences in the Middle East filled me with nostalgic excitement. He was a reminder of a life I once had, a different side of me that I often thought I might have lost. My journey to meet him brought back that same sense of ghosts from my past, reminding me of my first time arriving in Japan and how magical it had all felt. Some people in my barracks thought Tokyo and its surrounding areas were noisy, with the chirping at crosswalks and trains always coming and going. They looked at the uniformity and commented on the Stepford Wives feel. Not me. For me, it was a calm, safe place. A city of tall buildings filled with people singing together in karaoke rooms. Drunken men laughing and opening up and bonding in ways they never would otherwise. Neon lights and tall billboards that screamed commercialism to some, but to me said, “You have arrived in a future that never forgets the past.”

  Traveling always teased out that special feeling that there was something bigger than me, and had been a big impetus for me considering the military in the first place. Not all journeys can be purely magical, though. The Corps had taught me that, and my next adventure was about to remind me that, no matter how bright and shiny the lights might be, demons can hide in the shadows.

  I hopped out of my taxi at the address Jason had given me for his first-floor apartment not far from Tokyo, eyed the place, and paid the driver. Jason’s place was technically in Chiba-ku, which was on the closer side to the airport—so, as expensive as it was, it could’ve been worse. A car purred past us, a man in the backseat briefly glancing my way before it passed. I frowned, reasonably sure that he had been at the airport, too. Maybe even watching me? Laughing at the thought, I shook my head and headed for the apartment. One thing that returning from combat never failed to do was fill me with paranoia.

  Jason’s doorbell had a hanging anime girl added to it for effect, so that ringing the bell was like touching her outstretched hand. Giving her a high five, maybe? Typical Jason. My eyes roamed the surroundings as I waited, noting the tall, orange building with one of those vending machines that you find everywhere in Japan—the type that sold coffee, tea, and even cocktails—standing next to it. My first trip to Japan had been a real eye-opener in terms of what vending machines could sell. Even condoms and women’s panties, although that specific machine was in a back corner of Shinjuku, an area I had quickly realized that I shouldn’t have wandered into.

  The door unlocked with a click and swung open to reveal Jason, grinning like a teenager who’d wet his dick for the first time. Maybe it was a crude description, but it fit him.

  “What?” I asked, excited but unused to this much glee from the guy. He usually played it cool—his dark hair slicked back, turtleneck covering the scars on his neck from an attack when he was younger that took his older brother’s life and left him in the hospital for a month. Yes, of the two of us, he’d drawn the short straw. He’d had a much worse childhood than I. My biggest complaint was that my dad had moved us out of Houston to Los Angeles for a while, wanting to pursue his movie career. That was before moving up to Washington State in my senior year of high school. And hey, I’d met Jason in Los Angeles, so it all worked out for the best.

  No answer. He was still smiling, clearly trying to build suspense, so I pretended to punch my old buddy in his stomach. Then I pushed past him into a quaint apartment complete with a rice cooker, foldout couch, and a bedroom with a tatami mat floor and his small mattress in the corner. It smelled of rice and the same baby-powder-scented cologne he’d been using since his early teens. He locked the door behind us, an action that, when combined with his silly grin, started to make the whole scenario feel a little creepy. Or would have, if I didn’t trust the guy with my life.

  “Nice place,” I said, continuing to his fridge. There, I found Sapporo and Asahi beers. “Shit, man. If you aren’t going to stock the fridge with Kirin, why do I bother coming?”

  “Don’t give me that,” he said, following and closing the fridge door. “We need something better to toast with because we’re celebrating.”

  There it was. “Celebrating…what?”

  “Hold on.” He nodded at the fridge. “You’re stationed in Okinawa? You’ve been gone for what, six months? How is it you aren’t craving Orion by now?”

  Orion was the beer of Okinawa and was fine, but I was more of a Kirin or Ebisu kind of guy. Not that I did much drinking, as it messed with keeping my body in tip-top shape. However, a Marine who didn’t at least have a beer from time to time simply didn’t fit in. So, I embraced my role in life and had a few when it pleased me.

  “I’d kill for some pineapple sake cake.” I looked intently at the cupboards as if there was the slightest chance he might have some. Every time we spoke, the dessert seemed to come up—a callback to the time he had visited me in Okinawa and we had gotten drunk off the stuff when visiting the pineapple fields up north. “Since that’s not available…”

  He held up a finger, turning to a tray on the counter that he had been concealing with his large frame. It had a small sake pot and two glasses. “Hot sake, but no cake. Good enough?”

  “You had this ready?” I laughed. “Dude, you really must be celebrating something. First lay?”

  “Go to hell.” We both knew he’d had a bad pregnancy scare a couple of years back with a girl named Sakura, so he wasn’t a virgin. Then he had caught that same girl cheating by watching porn and seeing her going down on a dude on video. Yeah, it didn’t get much worse than that, so I was honestly excited to hear what he had to share.

  “Spit it out, man!” I had to laugh at how awkward he was being.

  “First…” He set the tray down, then poured us each a cup from the tokkuri flask. Proper porcelain, bulbous at the bottom, narrow at the top. “Kanpai!”

  “Ganbei,” I said, teasing him with the more Chinese way to say it. He always hated when I did that, as I’d studied some Chinese in high school while he’d obsessed over Japanese.

  “Kanpai me proper, b
itch. I’m getting married.”

  Good thing I hadn’t yet taken a drink, or I would’ve spat it out. This guy getting married was, as far as I was concerned, the equivalent of Iron Works Barbecue suddenly telling me they were only serving vegan.

  “Tyler, you hear me?” He leaned in, raising his voice and talking like I was mentally slow. “I said, I’m…getting…married.”

  “Hold on.” I stared at him, shook my head, then laughed. Accepting the small choko cup, I toasted a proper, “Kanpai!” and then sipped. Damn, it was the smooth sake, too. He wasn’t playing around. “To who?”

  “To whom.”

  “Shut up, college boy. To whom?”

  He grinned. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “No… Please, come on, not Saku—”

  “Sakura. Yes.” He sipped from his cup, then, seeing the way I was looking at him, chugged the rest. Good sake like that isn’t meant to be chugged. “Okay, hear me out.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes.” He poured himself another cup, then refilled mine. “So, she’s done stuff on video for money. When we were younger, we would’ve killed to do that! Aren’t you applying double standards?”

  “Do I need to make a ‘double’ joke right now?”

  “Watch it, that’s my fiancée.” He was about to sip again, then set the cup down. “Dammit, man, I thought you’d be happy for me. This is… I mean, it’s legit. And…” He turned back to me, grinning, “You’ve seen how well she gives head. I mean, this girl can take it—all of it.”

  “All…” I was about to make a small dick joke, but no, it was no good. We’d both seen each other naked. This guy was a monster down there. Hell, maybe he needed someone like her to get it in. “Good for you, man. She’s hot, too. Damn hot.”

  She was, too. When he had first caught her, for some reason he played the porno on the sixty-inch TV, making me sit through it as he moaned and groaned on the verge of tears. Now this.

  “So, wait. Is the wedding while I’m here?”

  “Not exactly, but…” He held up two pieces of paper. Tickets, to be exact. “We’re going to Thailand.”

  “You…” I looked at the date. “That’s for tomorrow. You prick. I just got here, and you’re leaving me already?” My mind was racing with how I could make this work. A Marine in Tokyo. It wasn’t as good as other parts of Japan because in Tokyo, there were too many gaijin to make us special. Still, I could head over to Roppongi, see if my old favorite spots were there. A-Life had been the best back in the day, but it closed and the area hadn’t been at quite the same level since. Still, I didn’t doubt that I’d be able to find a nice lady to bring back to the crib. “Wait, you’re letting me stay here, right? I don’t have to get a hotel?”

  He was on the verge of cracking up as he checked my cup to see if I needed more sake. No, it was still full.

  “Bro. Bro. Calm down.” He held out one of the tickets. “Look at the name. That’s you! Me and you, baby. We’re going to Thailand.”

  “No way.”

  “Yup. Remember that little part about how she cheated on me? Well, here is where I forgive her—to make it up, she gave me a one-week pass, one way, meaning she doesn’t get one. Any babe I want.”

  Okay, this time I had to chug the cup. “First,” I said, holding it out for more, my head already starting to feel light, “for sluts like you, I think you hit the jackpot. Not how I’d want to spend the week before my wedding, but… I’m not a slut.”

  “Don’t slut-shame me, asshole.” He was all smiles.

  “Second, um…problem.” I sipped, then drank the whole thing. No more for me, though. “The Marines didn’t approve this. I’m on leave to Tokyo. You’ve heard of the shit going on in Thailand, right? Isn’t there some local mafia raising a storm, or something?”

  “I checked it out. That’s all in the south, like way south. Nothing to worry about. And are you telling me you always do everything the Marines say?”

  “Yes.” There was nothing more to say. Quite simply, I ate, shat, and dressed how the Marines told me to. I had been in for six years, and was one year into my second enlistment because I’d originally done a five-year contract to go counter-intel. There wasn’t much about me that wasn’t Marine—oh, except for the stupid rules that still dictated that oral and anal were sodomy, and therefore punishable per Article Twelve of the UCMJ, or Uniform Code of Military Justice.

  Jason took my ticket and eyed it. “Hmm, I’m confused… I’m pretty sure that’s your name right there, which means you’re going.”

  “I can’t.” It was a fact.

  “Let me put it this way. I’m going to go have the biggest fuck-fest of my life, and you’re coming with. You can sit around touching yourself if you want, or you can get in on it. I don’t care. All I care is that my best bud in the world be there for this, because for the rest of my life, I’m going to be married to the lady you watched give a blowjob to some other guy. I want to be able to call you up whenever I want and say, ‘Dude, remember those twins you and I tag-teamed on that trip? That was awesome!’ You feel me?”

  I laughed while nodding and then shook my head. Honestly, after a six-month deployment to the sand, I wouldn’t mind at least watching a couple of strippers. For me, paying for sex and all of that definitely wasn’t on the table, but supporting my buddy and living vicariously through him? Why the hell not?

  “Let’s do it,” I said with a shrug, hoping this wouldn’t be the biggest mistake of my life. “As long as I’m back in time, nobody will know.”

  “To October-fuck-fest, baby!” He downed one more cup and then staggered back, plopping down on his little gray couch. His head lolled back, then came forward, and he grinned wide. “I’m so happy we’re doing this.”

  “Me too, buddy.” I couldn’t believe I was going, but he was selling it as such a great time.

  Had I known it was going to tear my world apart, I never would’ve gone.

  2

  The next morning, I awoke to a plate of sushi, but Jason laughed and said he was playing around. He had eggs and bacon, but I opted for the sushi after a quick shower. One thing about being in the Marines is that you learn to eat any meal at any time of day. When sleep patterns are all over the place, you learn to eat a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich at nine at night or a plate of sushi at seven in the morning. Food is food, after all, and anytime good food was put before me, damn right I would consume it.

  “When are we leaving?” I asked, excited to get out and about in Tokyo and see the Shibuya intersection, my old favorite Yakitori restaurant, and more. With a bite of perfectly seared Toro sushi in my mouth, I closed my eyes, remembering a sushi place overlooking an intersection where I had once gone on a date with a Japanese lady. It was one of those places where no one can eat without spending at least a hundred dollars. She had insisted that it be her treat, and being the gracious modern man that I was, I accepted. Best sushi ever. The piece in my mouth right now rivaled it, although I wondered if it was the “absence makes the heart grow fonder” effect. Everything always tastes better after you’ve been missing it. Except sometimes hot dogs. Once you go away from those, going back results in a rubbery, very-glad-you-left-them taste.

  Jason leaned over to pick up his backpack, grinning. “Got a car waiting in the alley out back.”

  “Out back?”

  “Sure. See, I don’t have a key—lost it like a month ago.” He laughed, as if that was all perfectly normal. “My landlady is a real nut job and would give me hell if she knew, probably charge me like ten thousand yen, so… I use my secret ninja entrance and exit.” With that, he pointed to the window in his bedroom, visible through the open door.

  “You’re not serious?” I walked over to check it out. The window was tall and would work, with bushes on the other side that would likely conceal his coming and going.

  “Sure am. Grab your bag and let’s hit the road.”

  I sighed, told him he was coming with me to explore Tokyo when we
got back from our trip, and grabbed some sushi for the road. We had only gone a few blocks when I noticed what I thought was the car from the evening before—the one with the guy who had been watching me. Paranoia rearing its ugly head again, I told myself and leaned back, closing my eyes.

  “Tell me about your time over there.” Jason looked out the window like he didn’t really care and was only making small talk.

  “It’s not exactly the small talk type of discussion topic,” I explained. “Suffice it to say, I could go the rest of my life without seeing another desert and be quite happy.”

  “I bet.” He glanced my way. “And…the breakup?”

  “Yup. Official. And it sucks.”

  “See, man, that’s why you need this trip.” He leaned in, lowering his voice as if that would stop the cabbie from hearing. “You and me, baby. We’re going to show that town a good time.”

  I was about to protest when an explosion went off in the distance—I knew that sound anywhere. My survival instincts switched on and I ducked, then realized we were in Chiba, not a warzone. Slowly, I sat up, shaking off the confusion.

  “What was that?” Jason asked, turning to look back.

  A plume of black smoke rose in the distance, partially visible between tall, gray buildings.

  “Probably construction,” the taxi driver said in heavily accented English. He waved it off and continued to drive. I stared back at the smoke, not so certain. It wasn’t our concern. At least, I hoped not as I turned back in my seat and shared a surprised look with Jason.