The Sound of Music
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"It's Morse code," I said. "The Xs are the dashes, the Os the dots."
It took me just a few seconds to work it out. I was in high school before I found out that not everyone's parents made them learn Morse code. Technically, neither did my mine, but I was raised by a grandfather who had been a career Marine, and it had left its mark.
For a moment, I stared at the message in my head, trying to make sense of it. Then I started to tear off my body armor.
"What ... what are you doing?" Ammar said.
"The message says 'DF on. Come get her.'"
"But why are you so alarmed? I don't see what--"
"DF has to mean directional finder. And 'her' ... well, there's only one her getting chased around here."
"That's crazy. You think they are chasing you? You have been seeing a psychiatrist, maybe?"
I ignored him. In a crazy afternoon, something was starting to make scary sense. A few seconds later, I found it: a black disk the size of a silver dollar, stuffed in the lining of my helmet. I tossed it down and stomped on it.
"Must have stuck it in there while I was sleeping," I said.
"Who?" Ammar said.
I froze. Yeah, who? There was only one other person from the ambush walking around, that I knew of. But Grandpa's girl took a couple seconds too long to put it together. I looked up into the barrel of a pistol. Ammar's eyes were very dark and unblinking.
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