The Veteran

Chapter Twelve

The phone rang. It was 0500. I answered, and Jones began speaking, "Mr. Hunter, our couriers will be at your residence to pick you up at 0600. We expect you to be at the end of the driveway. Goodbye for now," and the line went dead.

Damn! One hour to get it together.

Mary had woken when the phone rang and had listened to the entire conversation. I sat up in bed, facing away from her.

"I'm not going to wake the kids or my parents. You be careful, please."

"I will,"

After a quick shower, I returned to the bedroom to dress. Mary was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at me as I pulled my clothes out and laid everything on the bed.

"John?"

"Yes, honey?"

She had tears in her eyes, "If you die on me, I will never forgive you."

I pulled her to her feet and drew her close to me. "I don't plan on it." Her hug intensified as though she didn't want to let go. A part of me didn't want her to.

"I have to do this. I will need coffee though if you could make me some."

She kissed me on the cheek and walked out of the room. I slipped on the cargo pants, strapped my Walther .380 to my ankle, pulled on my boots, and then slipped my concealed carry Sig into my waistband. I pulled on my t-shirt and looked at myself in the mirror.

Damn, you better not fuck this up.

I walked out the door and down the stairs.

Diego and Mary were sitting at the breakfast table with a fresh cup of black coffee waiting for me. Both had a worried look on their face.

"What?"

"Diego and I have been talking, and you should listen to what he has to say."

I sighed, "Ok, what is it?"

"Listen, amigo," he began, "you and I have had each other's back for what, going on 25 years now? You won't let me help you with the Russians, but at least let me help you with this."

"Diego, I can't. No one else is supposed to be involved."

Not only my best friend from the service, Diego Montoya was a well-trained sniper. He had over 35 confirmed classified kills to his name, only known to people with the correct clearance. If anyone could watch my ass, he could, but I couldn't risk jeopardizing this arrangement and putting them all in more danger.

"They won't even know I'm there."

I couldn't take that chance. If they were watching the farm, as they said, I couldn't risk it.

"We can't take that chance. As much as I'd love knowing you had my six, the price is too high, if they were to find out," I said.

I could tell by Mary's facial expression she didn't like hearing that. She had hoped with Diego watching my back, it might be a little safer.

"I have thirty minutes before they're supposed to pick me up. I'll be back later today. Nothing from the Russians yet, but I'll let you know. Until then, make sure you keep everyone here safe. I'm counting on you, Diego." I said.

Both of them were not happy with me going alone, but it had to happen that way.

I finished my one cup of coffee, ate a couple of pieces of toast, and then stepped outside to have a smoke. The sun was starting to throw some light across the horizon. Mary and Diego stepped outside and hugged me before I headed toward the end of the drive. Both added their own goodbyes, Diego's 'stay frosty' and Mary's 'come back home' and then I left.

I waited in the morning twilight and detected the headlights, from what was either an SUV or truck, coming down the road. A black Escalade pulled up to the drive, and the passenger side front door opened. The driver, wearing sunglasses, motioned for me to get in. As I slid up into the seat, a man was sitting in the back with a small machine pistol pointed at me.

"Are you armed?"

I looked at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? Of course, I'm armed. Do I look stupid?"

"Please place your weapons, and I mean all, on the center console, and then place your hands on your knees."

I looked him square in the eye. "No can do. If you want to shoot me, then shoot me, but I'm not giving up my weapons."

He sat back and said, "Excellent. You passed test number one."

"If I had known there'd be an exam, I would've studied."

They didn't find the humor in my words, and we took off down the road. As we were driving, the man in the back seat began to talk.

"John Hunter, as a new employee of Global Development Technologies Consortium, you have verbally agreed to certain terms which are outlined in this contract. You are to read this contract and sign. Here is a small vial in which you are to spit for us to record your DNA and you'll be required to provide all your fingerprints on this digital fingerprint scanner. Before we proceed, I will need your index fingerprint for identification validation."

"Sure, whatever," and took the scanner from him. I had seen readers like this before, a simple fingerprint scanner. After I touched the surface, an automated voice from the laptop responded, "Identification confirmed. John Hunter."

I spit in the vial, handed it back to him and started reading the contract. It read like a standard employment contract, except for being willing to dispense, dispose of, forcibly disappear, or otherwise remove obstacles which are contrary to the best interest of Global. It was an obscure way of saying if the need arose, I would be required to kill people, in the best interest of Global, of course. Nothing was stated about them saving my ass.

I signed the contract, and he handed me a large padded envelope. Inside was the total $75,000 cash bonus for agreeing and signing. This would come in handy.

"Underneath your seat is a large envelope containing all the documentation you'll need for yourself and your family. No one else is allowed to view information. After we drop you off, you are to proceed with destroying all your current identification including birth certificates, driver's license, and anything else with your family name on it. Included is a company credit card in your new name, which has no limit. If you need to make any single purchases over $5,000, you'll need to provide a receipt with your claim.

"A sealed container will be delivered to you at 0800 tomorrow by commercial carrier. You are not to open this container before receiving authorization."

"As a caveat of employment with Global Development Technologies Consortium, you are required to have a GPS tracking chip. It will be inserted in the skin on the inside of your left arm. If you reach back with your arm, I will insert the chip. You will feel a slight pinch."

I reached for the back seat with my left arm, and he held my wrist and pressed a pistol-style hypodermic device against the inside of my left arm, between my bicep and triceps and pulled the trigger. A slight pinch, my ass. It felt like he had injected liquid fire into my arm.

I jerked my arm back and rubbed my fingers across the lump that remained.

"This chip will allow us to track all your movement. Removal is not allowed without authorization. Any attempt to remove the chip without deactivating it will result in a small explosion that will destroy the surrounding tissue and sever the brachial artery, and you will bleed out within two minutes. We understand you are scheduled to speak with Nataliy Michenkov sometime today concerning your meeting with him. You will notify us of the meeting time and attend it, at which time; we will alleviate you of your Russian problem. After the meeting, you will proceed with the instructions we provided. Any more questions?"

"What about my family? When are we supposed to depart? I was told we'd have a choice of four locations."

"All the information is contained in the packet, including the locations to choose from. We understand this type of change can have a profound impact on the family. We have counselors available for family members to assist in adjusting to these changes. We strongly encourage you and your family to utilize this resource. If there's nothing else, we will return you to your residence. You are to contact Mr. Jones after you have completed your meeting with Nataliy Michenkov. Is that understood, Mr. Hunter?"

"Yes, loud and clear."

We finished sooner than I had expected.

We pulled up to the drive, and I pulled the envelope from underneath the seat and, with the one in my hand, stepped from the SUV. I waited for them to leave and walked up the drive to the house. I was now in service to Global and still had to meet with the Russians, not knowing what Global was going to do to alleviate my 'Russian problem.'

As I approached the house, Diego stood from a grassy area halfway up the driveway, camouflaged in a ghillie suit, sniper rifle in hand.

"Thanks, Diego, but not necessary. They weren't planning on killing me."

"You can't be too careful, especially with these corporate types, amigo. I don't trust any of them."

"I don't either, Diego."

Mary must have been watching and came outside as I approached the house.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Besides having a GPS tracking chip in my arm that will kill me if I take it out, and being at their beck and call 24/7, it went well, considering."

I handed her the envelopes, pointing out the one with the money, and told her not to look in the other one. She was to put both in a safe place. I also added, if I didn't return, they were to take the money, and Diego take them away. They were to run as far and fast as they could from the farm. She didn't like hearing that, but nodded and said, "Ok."

I had been gone almost an hour and still have a little less than three hours until the 48-hour mark, and the Russians hadn't notified me about when and where we were to meet. I was on edge about it with the short amount of time that remained.

I went inside, had breakfast with the boys, who were now up and talked with them about anything they wanted. Matthew, my eight-year-old, asked me if I was going to die today.

I looked at Mary who gave me a look of 'I didn't say anything.'

Frank and Jean walked into the kitchen, and I glared at them. I waited until the boys finished breakfast and asked Mary to take them upstairs to get dressed and then turned to Frank and Jean.

"Why would Matthew think I was going to die today?"

They both looked at each other, and neither said anything.

"I'm going to ask you again. Why would Matthew think I was going to die today?"

"What you're going to do today might get you killed, and I wanted to prepare the boys, you know, just in case something happened."

My temper flared. Badgering me is one thing, but trying to convince my boys I would die, which would make Frank and Jean happy, was way out of line. I stood, slammed my hands on the table and leaned across to them.

I was angry, and shouted, "Frank, I'm going to make something crystal fucking clear to you. If you ever say anything like that to my boys again, you'll be lucky to see the next sunrise, and the same goes for you too, Jean. I'm done with you meddling in my marriage, with my boys, and doing everything you can to break us up. I'm done. You got me? Fucking done."

This was the second time I had shown any sign of emotion in front of them, but this was the last straw, and I was finished with their bullshit. All the tolerance, forgiveness, and willingness to take their shit, had just flown out the window.

At that moment, Mary walked back into the room. Frank tried to use this situation and turn it against me, instead, I told him to sit down and shut fuck up. I explained what they had said to the boys, and Mary was even madder than I was. She flew off the handle at them, "I can't fucking believe you. What were you thinking, saying something like that to the boys? If we let the boys see you after this, it'll be a damned miracle. You should be ashamed of yourselves, and yes, I heard everything John said. Never again, Dad. Never again."

I could tell both were devastated and sat in shock, not expecting our reactions.

I looked at Mary, "I have to go outside and cool off. I can't do this," and then looked at them, "Never again, Frank. Never again! You got me?"

Frank nodded his head.

Mary followed me outside, "I can't believe this. I can't believe my parents would do this."

"Mary, they've been doing stuff like this ever since we got together. You didn't want to see it."

"I have seen it, and I've tried to stop it. It was never this bad, but I'm done. I'm done being in the middle, and I'm done playing peacekeeper. I'm done with all this bullshit."

"I never asked you to fight those battles for me. I could've handled them well enough, but you insisted on putting yourself between them and me. I couldn't have stopped you, even if I had wanted to."

She took a deep breath and looked at me, "You're right. I'm sorry my parents are such assholes about us, I'm sorry they've never treated you right, and I'm sorry I now have to choose between you and them."

That thought had never crossed my mind, but now it was in my face.

"And what is your choice, Mary?"

"Sometimes, you're an idiot. Of course, I'm going to choose you and the boys; I only wish I didn't have to. I love my parents, and while they are a pain in the ass, they are still my parents, whether I want them to be or not. Keeping the boys away from them in the time we have left here won't be easy, if we choose to do that. It won't be fair to the boys, but it may be better for them in the long run."

I was calming down and took her hand in mine, "I don't want to have to decide, but they're not leaving us many options. Before we decide, I think we should think about it, but we're not going to say anything to them. I want them to stew in their own juices for a while. They deserve every minute of it," and I smiled.

"As messed up as that sounds, I agree. They need to learn a lesson."

I looked at my watch. I had less than ninety minutes and no word from the Russians. I snapped back to reality and said, "Nothing from them yet, and it's making me nervous."

"What are you going to do?"

With the clock ticking down, it could mean we were meeting close by or they were coming here. Either way, I had to make sure Mary and the boys, and even her parents were safe. I called out to Diego who was in the barn. He stepped out and came over to where we were standing.

"Ok, I need everyone in the safe room now. I'm going to get ready for the meeting. This is cutting it a little too close, and I don't like it. Mary, go inside, have everyone meet in the living room and tell what's happening. Grab a change of clothes for yourself and the boys and let Frank and Jean know to do the same. You might be down there for a while."

Mary rushed toward the house, and I stepped into the barn. I couldn't see any sign of a trap door or anything and turned to look at Diego. He smiled and pressed a button under the workbench, and the floor slid to the side. The straw and dirt were glued to the floor, and it opened to a set of stairs below. He pushed the button again the floor slid back in place. His grin grew wider.

"I told you, amigo. I got this covered."

"Viktor was right, you are a dirty Mexican!"

He walked away toward the house grumbling, "Fuck you, asshole" under his breath.

I yelled, "I love you too, Diego!"

I walked into the house and met everyone in the living room. They were all ready. Diego opened the door under the stairs and stepped in through a well-concealed trap door, barely visible to the naked eye unless you knew what to look for. It opened when he twisted the old light switch to the left. He had left many of the original fixtures in place when he remodeled the house and used this old light switch to activate the piston that opened the trapdoor. Looking at the size of the piston, it couldn't have been forced open without extensive effort. I kissed Mary and the boys and watched them all descend the stairs, with Jake close on their heels, to the room below. If I knew Diego, a similar setup for opening the doors to the passageway would be in the barn.

Diego was the last to go down the stairs and paused, "Are you sure you don't want me to stay up here with you?"

"No, I need you to keep them safe in case something happens to me. I will contact you one way or another if things don't go well."

I watched as he descended, and then he twisted a knob on the wall at the base of the stairs and the trapdoor closed. I was on my own now.

I had less than an hour and still no word from the Russians. I kept watching the road from the second story window with a pair of binoculars Diego had left in the room from his previous surveillance. I was beginning to think this might not happen until a brown SUV stopped at the end of the driveway. It was like a mini-limousine, custom built from what I could tell, windows tinted with double passenger doors on both sides. I wouldn't have been surprised if it had armor plating and bulletproof windows.

The SUV sat at the end of the drive, and then the front passenger door opened, and a large man exited. I recognized him as Dimitri Baleschenko, Nataliy Michenkov's right-hand man.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began waving in my direction. If this was a joke, it wasn't funny. I played the conversation in my head, and he said they would contact, not call me. I had been a fool waiting for the phone call. I called Jones and informed the Russians had arrived. They would be able to track me, which I assumed they were doing. I left the phone on the stand by the door as I walked out. I couldn't risk them checking my phone.

I made my way downstairs with my SCAR in hand and walked out to the front porch. He motioned for me to come toward them. I didn't feel like walking the entire way, which was about a quarter of a mile, so I hopped into the pickup truck Diego had parked next to the house and drove to the end of the driveway. As I approached, two men exited from the rear two doors, and another two stepped out from behind the SUV. Everyone carried machine pistols. It was five against one at this point. I could've taken out two or three, maybe even four if I got lucky, but the fifth one would get me. This was supposed to be a peaceful meeting, so I left the SCAR on the seat of the truck and exited. All five trained their weapons on me and Dimitri spoke, "Do you have weapons?"

"Yes, of course, I have weapons."

"Drop weapons on ground. Be very careful," he said.

I pulled the Sig from my belt and bent down to remove the Walther from my ankle. As soon as I put it down, a hood was pulled over my head from behind, and two sets of hands gripped my arms.

Son of a bitch, they're kidnapping me.

I didn't fight them. If they had wanted to kill me, it would've happened. If I fought back, I would be knocked around and injured, which I didn't need. I was pushed into what I thought was the back of the SUV, and with no light, the orientation I had to rely on was trying to sense which direction we turned. We made two lefts; drove for a while on a smooth road for what I thought was about twenty minutes, which had to be the highway nearby, and then two rights, which took about another ten minutes, according to my count. I had a rough idea where I was in relation to the farm, but not knowing this area well, I wouldn't have been able to pinpoint our location.

The road got rougher, and I bounced around for another five minutes or so. The back door opened, and I tried to get up but was shoved back down, and in broken English, was told to wait. The boss wasn't in this SUV.

I'm not sure how much time elapsed, but it was getting hot in the back of the SUV when the door opened, and I was yanked out and tossed on the ground.

Someone spoke. It sounded like Dimitri. "Take off hood and stand up."

I pulled the hood from my head and came to my feet and was greeted by a huge balding man in a pinstripe suit. He had to have weighed close to 400 pounds and towered over me at 6'4" or 6'5". This had to be Nataliy.

He spoke first, "Mr. John Hunter. Spasibo for meeting with me today. I must apologize for my men. They can be, how you say, energetic, sometimes."

"You must be Nataliy Michenkov."

"Da, you are correct, Mr. Hunter. I have busy schedule so we will keep this short. Here is envelope with information on witness you must disappear. You have 72 hours to handle business, and then you are done."

"Only 72 hours?"

"Da, 72 hours. Witness to testify in court in four days. I want him gone in three. You do this, we leave you alone. Debt canceled."

I took the envelope from his hand, wondering how I could pull this off in 72 hours. I didn't know where this person was, how I would find them, or how I would make them disappear. To the Russians, those were my problems to figure out.

"So, what happens if I fail?"

"Simple, Mr. Hunter. First, your friend Victor, wife, and daughter die very slowly for your failure. Then we hunt you and your family down and kill you. Your children die first. We have known where you were for a week now."

I was about to say something when a shot rang out. It came close to me, and the man next to Nataliy died as a bullet entered his right eye socket and exploded his skull. Someone was taking shots at us. I dove toward the nearest cover, but Nataliy was in the way, and I took him down with me, just as another shot rang out. It missed Nataliy, hitting the henchman next to him in the throat. I turned and scanned the area. We were surrounded by trees. Nataliy rolled to his side and pulled his pistol. He was furious. He turned and looked at Dimitri and yelled something in Russian and then shot Dimitri in the head. This surprised me even more until the same pistol turned on me. "Who did you tell?"

"No one, I swear. No one knows we are meeting and even if they did, I wouldn't know where we are."

He must have believed me because he pointed his pistol at Dimitri "He die because he is traitor. Only two people know we are here. Dimitri and wife. Wife is no traitor. Now Dimitri is dead. Traitor problem solved."

More shots rang out from the tree line, and I located the shooter. I didn't have a weapon. Three Russians lay dead on the ground, and the other five returned fire. It was futile. Their little machine pistols wouldn't reach the eighty plus yards with any accuracy. Another shot came from our left, and a figure slumped forward from the original shooter's position. Two snipers and they were shooting at each other. I couldn't determine who was who. Did the Global guy shoot first and is now dead, or did the first guy from who knows what group shoot, and then the Global guy shot him? I couldn't wait around to find out. We could all be dead in a few minutes if we stayed in the open ground.

Nataliy yelled, "We go now, and you come,"

He motioned for me to get in the SUV. I wasn't going to take a chance on being hit, so I followed him and helped him get in the back seat. Another one of the Russians dropped on his way to the SUV, the bullet exploding out the front of his chest. This second shooter was more accurate than the first.

The engine fired up, and we hauled ass out of the field, with the other SUV on our tail. We drove down the dirt road which led us back to a gravel road and then the main highway. As soon as we determined we weren't followed, we pulled off the road and caught our breath.

Nataliy Michenkov sat across from me, staring at me with his arms folded, his pistol, a desert eagle enveloped by his large hands.

"John Hunter, you save my life today. I receive information Dimitri was traitor. I knew we had traitor, but I did not want to believe it was him. Today, someone tried to kill me, and only Dimitri knew, so I kill Dimitri. I now owe you my life. Debt is paid. Now, you come to work for me. Da?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Michenkov, I can't do that. I'm not an assassin or a hitman."

"No, no, no. You misunderstand. You come to work for me as bodyguard. You good at saving Nataliy's life and I need bodyguard as mine is now dead."

Oh, fuck. What do I do now?

"I have a wife and children, and I must talk with them first. I'm glad you're alive and appreciate the offer, and I'm glad my debt has been paid, but I must talk to her first."

"Da, I understand. Women are not easy. You talk to wife and give me call."

He asked one of his men for his phone and handed it to me. It wasn't a typical cell phone, I suspected it came with special encryption.

"You take other SUV and go home and call me tomorrow."

I exited the SUV and walked to the other. The driver tossed me the keys and muttered something in Russian. His look wasn't one of approval. I sat in the other SUV and waited for them to leave.

What the fuck just happened?

Two different people were shooting at us, and then one shot the other. The guy who wanted a favor and would've killed me for not doing it now wanted me as his bodyguard.

This kind of shit only happens in the movies.

Now, one sniper was still back there, but on whose side? I didn't have time to waste, so I fired up the engine and headed for the house. I wasn't familiar with the area, but the SUV had a GPS. I started to punch in Diego's address, and it popped up. They had known where we were.

I needed a smoke and had left mine at home.

I headed back toward the farm, found a country store and pulled in. I was glad I brought my wallet, walked in and snagged a beer from the cooler. I approached the clerk and asked for a pack of smokes and a lighter. After today, I deserved a beer. I didn't care if it was against the law, cracked it open, took a swig, and then lit a smoke. I looked over at the passenger floor and found my Sig and Walther. I retrieved them, got out, holstered my Sig in my back holster and slipped the Walther in my front pocket.

I walked around the back and opened it, which proved difficult due to the weight of the door, indicating armor plating. The racks held half a dozen weapons, about thirty magazines, a mixture of fragmentation and flashbang grenades. These guys were loaded for bear. I closed the back to avoid any attention from someone driving by, pulled the Walther from my pocket, and got back in the driver's seat. I slipped the Walther under my left leg and was finishing my beer when the passenger door opened. In jumped a man with a pistol, now pointed at the side of my head,

"Are you John Hunter?"

"Yeah, who's asking?"

"My name doesn't matter, and he pulled out a satellite phone, dialed a number. "He's right here." and handed me the phone.

"Mr. Hunter," it was Jones, "you are a hard man to keep track of. It seems like we have a little situation."

"A little situation? I was getting shot at a few minutes ago, and you call that a little situation?"

"The man sitting next to you was our man in the field, and he killed the BelyyaPrava hitman. Dimitri Baleschenko had close ties with the BelyyaPrava through one of the gentlemen you neutralized at the store. He was close to Nataliy's nephew and took it personally when you killed him. The attempt today was on not only on Nataliy's life but on yours as well. If Dimitri had been successful, he would have blamed you for Nataliy's death and taken over the organization. We leaked information to Nataliy just in time."

"You could have given me a heads up, but I think we have a bigger problem, and killing Nataliy isn't going to solve it now. He wants me to work for him as a bodyguard because I saved his life."

There was a pause on the line.

"We can use this to our advantage," Jones said.

"With all due respect, this is not what I signed up for. I'm no spy or secret agent. I agreed to come to work for you to resolve problems, not infiltrate criminal syndicates. If Nataliy were to find out I'm working for you, you would have an all-out war. I don't think you want that, considering all the attention it would draw to you, and he would kill me immediately and more than likely my family."

"You do realize we know where your family is and that you are bound to complete your contract with us. We feel this is a problem that needs to be resolved."

Shit. Now I have to worry about these guys

I gritted my teeth, took a big breath, and exhaled, "Oh yes, I do realize that, but I also realize you need me now, even more so, considering what position I'm being offered and why I'm being offered this position," I paused to let it sink in. I had managed, by saving Nataliy Michenkov's life, to reach the top of the ladder. They needed me, and now it was a game of cat and mouse.

"You're a smart enough man to realize what kind of opportunity this presents. With me this close to Nataliy Michenkov, I will be able to provide you with intel you would have no way of getting your hands on. He also happens to like me. I also don't need to remind you if Nataliy somehow finds out about Global that would be bad. Sure, you could kill us, but before that happened, shit would hit the fan."

"What is it that you want?"

I had done a lot of thing in the previous weeks I didn't want to do, and I didn't like the trend. If I worked this right, we wouldn't have to give up our identities, go into hiding, and have Mary lose contact with her family, which she would hate me for.

"Here is what I propose. I will go to work for Nataliy, provide you with the intel you need, and you leave my family and friends alone. I don't want to change identities, and if I do, it will make Nataliy suspicious. We're not giving up our lives, and no chip. It won't work for this situation. You keep my family safe, but no more surveillance. Pull your guys off the farm. I will choose who I work with, I will still collect the salary you promised, and we forego all that field training bullshit. I can handle myself with Nataliy. After we are finished with the Russians, I will walk away from all this, and try to return my life back to normal. I can forget about you, and you will forget about me, once this is over."

"I believe you have our backs against the wall, but I need to have your commitment to this."

If he decided to balk at my proposal, the guy sitting next to me would be an immediate threat, and I couldn't take that risk. I had to convince Jones I meant business. I pulled the Walther I had been hiding under my leg and shot the man in the forehead. The sound of the round caused Jones to yell out, "What was that?"

"That was the sound of my commitment to Global. I just put a bullet in your man's head. No witnesses. By the way, I want another 100,000 dollars in cash for operating expenses. Are we good now, Mr. Jones?"

"I believe we are. I will have the bonus and new contract with the modified terms delivered to you within 24 hours. Good day, Mr. Hunter. I will be in contact.

I hung up the phone. Blood splatter was all over the inside of the SUV, and all over me. I had murdered a man in cold blood, but I had to convince him. I wiped the blood off the Walther, put it back in my boot, and searched the body for any ID. He had to have come from somewhere, so I looked for a set of keys, and they were in his pocket. They were the keys to a Ford, and I pushed the button and was rewarded with a chirp that seemed to come from around the corner. I put the SUV in reverse, followed the sound of the chirp from the vehicle, and found an extended cab 4-wheel drive Ford pickup parked near the back and pulled up next to it with my driver's side to the passenger side of the truck. I tore the man's shirt and wiped as much of the blood off my face and arms that I could and stepped out. I glanced at the tinted windows to check my reflection. No one would notice the gore unless they pressed their face to the glass, but damn if I didn't need a shower.

I opened the passenger door of the pickup. There was a rifle case in the back, and I slid it out to the ground. I didn't care what was inside. It was mine. I searched the truck trying to avoid leaving fingerprints and found a Colt .45 match-grade pistol. It was a substantial bonus. I locked the truck, put the case in the back of the SUV, climbed in, and left.

Now to tell Mary the good news and the bad, but first, I had to dispose of the body and get all the blood off.