For Gary, being a target would not be a new feeling, he had been a target before. The time and the missions he had taken on in Vietnam had earned him a name and a generous bounty. He had earned the name trắng gặt, white reaper. He had spent years in and out of the jungle hunting men.
His targets were deep in the jungle, often in Laos or Cambodia. Gary typically inserted with various special operations groups. They would lead him into an area, and point him in the general direction of the target.
Those targets were out of reach to regular units, a large force would have too much of a signature. Special targets required special weapons and he was treated as that weapon.
On a few occasions he presented himself as a Russian seeking a sit down to discuss the furthering of aid to their cause. Those missions required special support.
His missions had been successful. Kills in the daylight under the premise of friendship had been quiet and hidden giving him time to escape.
Other times Gary would move in through the jungle in the quiet darkness. The nighttime kills were his favorite, he would move in near his target over a series of days, and observe the routines around him. Early on in his time commanders who were hiding across the border were pretty bold. It made it easy for him to come in at night and pull a razor across their throat, or put a silenced pistol to the base of their skull as they took their morning piss.
As he became the white reaper things changed, there were more trip wires, more booby traps. Places were lit up. Guards had random areas to patrol. Gary spent more time planning as he watched, more time watching, and he put more effort into how he killed, how he left the bodies. His boldness grew and he started taunting them before he came to them sending messages in, killing their mind before he plucked the life from their bodies.
He had been trained since before he was a man. As other kids his age were honing their football, and baseball, Gary was learning to make long range headshots, and set explosives.
Killing was what he knew, it was all he had known his entire adult life, he knew that if Julia turned out to be luring him in, he would kill her and he would do it as easily as if he were stamping out a cigarette. But if she was real, and he stepped out of this role that he had been so perfectly molded into, things would be different. His life was not just one you walked away from, and certainly not one you could walk away from without finishing your work.
There were people who had left, and the company kept their tabs on them, when they had left on good terms. Those who had left unfinished business or just vanished, the company had found them. A company like Sanford watches a lot of people in the world, there are some they track, others they keep in the periphery. They only go out and use their resources to find one type of person. The ones who are about to be killed.
Gary taken care of two former assets. One had been someone he worked with early on, and another was just another face. Those two had been enough for him to know that if he ever messed something up he was either going to have to kill everyone at Sanford or find someone to change his face.
***
Despite his worries and his insecurities Gary prepared for his date. He spent very little time thinking about what he would wear, almost no time thinking about the meal that they would have. What he did do was go to the park where Julia had suggested they meet, he sat for a while and watched the park, watched the people, looked for ones he had seen before.
He walked about looking for areas he would have clear field of view but be able to feel that he was protected from the back. Gary had spent his lifetime training to be casual in the most extreme circumstances, his mind would keep problem solving even as the world burned around him. Training had augmented his mind’s ability to focus. His scouting was a way that he could be prepared if things went wrong when they met later. He would have fresh mental pictures of the park, the blocks around the park, and he could formulate tactics for the possible situations that came up.
On a gentle rise he found a small poplar tree that would provide needed shade in the mid afternoon sun. The shade would be slightly on the east side of the tree. The shade would make it a natural place to sit. The rise the tree grew on provided a clear field of view of anyone approaching.
To the rear of where Gary imagined sitting there was seventy yards of open grass to the street to the south. There was no playground equipment that if occupied could disguise movement. He had selected the spot for his rendezvous, now it was the waiting.
***
At 12:30 Gary wound his watch and stripped down the Colt he carried daily. He was subscribing to the training concept that the routine tasks he had been taught would help him to focus on the tasks at hand while keeping him busy and burning off some of his nervous energy.
The pistol parts were laid out in front of him on a thin towel on the apartments kitchen table, he inspected each of them, not expecting to find any difference since the last cleaning only the day before. This was part of his exercise polishing and caring for one of the tools of his trade craft. He had not fired the weapon since returning to the States, but he trusted its functionality was unaffected by geography.
Gary slowly and almost thoughtfully slid the barrel back into the slide. The slide which was smoothed from the many miles it had been carried on his hip was nearly void of the bluing that had been applied at the factory.
Gary’s hand brushed across the smoothed metal feeling the connection he had with the weapon. The weapon was an extension of his body, it carried a piece of his soul, and had taken the lives of many men. He inserted the slide spring and guide rod, and finally the barrel bushing and retainer.
The assembled slide was slid onto the frame and checked for function. Next Gary unloaded the two magazines he carried, one was carried in the pistol and the other two as spares. He looked over each piece of ammunition checking each one for any sign of corrosion or defect.
Lastly, Gary restacked the magazines, when the three were loaded there was one round left on the table. Gary slid back and locked the slide, and inserted a magazine into the magazine well, released the slide and chambered a round. He placed the pistol on safe and released the magazine to let it slide out into his hand. He loaded the extra round into the magazine and then reinserted it into the pistol.
Gary went to the sink and ran a glass full of water from the tap, stood and drank half of it and stopped to look out the window his mind was clear and focused. He drank down the last of the water and as he walked by the table he picked up the pistol and tucked it into the holster inside his belt. He walked out the door and headed for the park.
***
Gary sat in the park and waited, he waited on the north side where he knew should would be coming from shade from the poplar behind him gave relief to the now scorching sun. He could see her walking from up the street now, and almost as if on cue a Torino drove along the street and he could hear Steve Miller say he should take the money and run. But she had seen him, she was smiling and she brought up a hand to wave.
***
Gary’s pulse quickened the breeze was blowing her hair lightly across her face and her waving hand came down to brush it aside, again he was shocked how attractive she was, and how he had not seen it in the pictures.
Gary smiled back, “I picked a nice shady spot.”
“This is a great spot, what a beautiful tree.”
“Waiting in the shade was really the only option on a day like today.”
“It sure is, today is a scorcher again.” She shielded her eyes and looked out across the park.
Gary nodded, letting her take in the view. He waited what he considered a comfortable amount of time, “How was Hal’s today?”
“Just a normal day, there’s never much interesting happen at Hal’s place.”
Again Gary nodded, “That’s not always a bad thing.”
“No. No, it’s not. Speaking of work. What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m afraid it’s not very exciting either. I do price evaluations for commerc
ial real estate. And then I work to take them to market.”
“Oh.” She looked down.
“I said it wasn’t very exciting.”
“So you travel a lot?”
“Yea, I move around quite a bit. After a while everything and everywhere starts to look the same.”
“I’ll bet. Did you have a place in mind for lunch?”
“I did,” Gary stepped from out of the shade, “it’s a place I found a while back, it’s not far.”
“Okay, I’m starving I hope you have good taste.”
“I guess we’ll see if I do.”
They walked across the park, Gary motioned the direction. His eyes darted from side to side behind the dark glasses he wore. He tried to keep his head movements an imperceptible as possible and when he turned to look he made it even more casual than usual. They walked for about twenty minutes, and when Gary stopped in front of The Greengrass Deli, Julia looked at him and said, “Here? Are you serious? You can’t be serious.”
Shock drew across his face, and his eyes grew wide, “Uh, well...if you want we can g...”
She stopped him, she was smiling, “This is great, I really like coming here. They have the best smoked brisket.” She touched his shoulder and he felt electricity, he marveled at how bad he wanted her to touch him, how much he needed that.
“That wasn’t that funny, I didn’t really have a plan B.”
She giggled and winked at him. Gary stepped forward and opened the door, and let her walk through first. Inside he looked from wall to wall counting the patrons. Quickly he took inventory as to whether or not they noticed them walking in the door.
Julia was already moving to a corner booth, the one Gary would have chosen, Gary did not dismiss this as a coincidence. He now was not watching the other people in the Deli as much as he was watching her. Gary watched her eyes, watched how she was taking a mental inventory of the surroundings.
Now Gary was sure there was more under the surface that what had come in the folders he had been given. They sat and quickly a young boy showed up to ask what they wanted to drink, they each ordered a bottle of Coke and picked up a menu.
Julia looked at her menu for only a moment and closed it, “I don't know why I’m looking at this, and I’ll have the smoked brisket just like I always do.”
“Is it that good? I had pastrami on rye the last time I was here.”
“The brisket has some of the best horseradish I have ever tasted. It is always so tender.”
“Well, that settles that,” Gary folded his menu and took a sip of the Coke in front of him.
They made small talk as they waited for their food, Julia spoke of Boston and her childhood, the odd jobs she had been employed in as she bounced from place to place, Gary wondered how much of what she was saying was true. Of course as he wondered that as he told her the story of a boy and man named Milo Bronson.
***
“Do you want to have a drink?”
On the curb outside of the Greengrass Deli Gary was a little surprised by her question, he looked at her face, and she seemed so sincere, his only thought was what could it hurt, “Sure, I guess that means it’s my turn to see if you have good taste. Do you have a place in mind?”
“As a matter of fact I do.”
***
It was a little hole in the wall. The Burdette Bar was dark smoky and just what Gary needed. He ordered three fingers of Jack on the rocks and she had a Tequila Sunrise.
“This is my kind of place.” Gary said.
“I like places like this too, they are little gems if you can find them. Most of the people in here this is the only place they go.”
Gary nodded, “Like a second home.”
Julia chuckled a bit, “Second? Hell... Do you see that fellow over there?” She looked left and subtly nodded her head in the direction of the bar.
“Yea, I see him.”
There was a man at the bar, he was in his late fifties or early sixties, pair of striped bib overalls on over a white tee shirt, and he had a long gray beard and shiny bald head. He was nursing a mug of draught beer and a slender crooked cigar was clenched in his fist.
“That fellow is Harry Wilson. Everybody in here calls him Big Willie. I don't know what he does but, I’ve never, and I mean never been in here when we wasn’t sitting right there.”
“Really?” Gary answered in disbelief.
“He’s always right there, well he might be at the pool table if the right one or two guys are in here but most of the time he’s right there.”
“I guess every place has a guy like that.”
“Yea, I guess you’re right.”
Gary lit a cigarette, and Julia asked for one. He handed one to her and lit it for her with his Zippo. She took a shallow drag and although she tried to hold it in she coughed before she could exhale, “Heavy smoker eh?” Gary asked her.
“How could you tell?” She responded as she took a sip of her Tequila Sunrise and went back for a second drag on the smoke.
This time Julia took a long drag and exhaled into the light hanging above their table, “It’s a habit I never fully picked up, my cousins and I would steal cigarettes from our great uncle, he had come to live with my parents after his wife died. We would go out in the alley and smoke them like little hoodlums.”
Gary laughed and crushed out his smoke.
She continued, “My mother caught us once and she came after me with a wooden spoon snapped the handle over my ass. I would have one now and then after I got older but never picked it up. I swear. I can't have one even to this day without expecting my mother to come out swinging with a wooden spoon.”
This time she gave a laugh, but it was clipped almost like she had told more than she wanted to and she wished she could take the story back. Gary caught her uneasiness for him it was another sign. Her signs were like stumps in the water cut off just below the surface but faintly visible if you knew what to look for.
Gary motioned for the bartender to deliver another round and finished his first glass. There were three men walked into the bar and sat just off to Gary’s right but on the far side of the bar, he watched Julia surveying the men.
“So you come here enough to know Big Willie is always here. You spend a lot of time here? Trolling for some interesting characters.” Gary winked at her. He poking fun. As he was speaking he realized he had never followed her here before, not once in the month that he had been in Omaha had he noticed her going to a bar, especially this one.
“Oh you know, a girl’s got to go slumming now and then.” She blushed. “Truth is this place reminds me of a little place back home, the kind of place where you make those first foolish drunken mistakes. I guess it just feels familiar.” As she finished speaking she made a glance to the three men at the far side again.
“I hear you there, sometimes home comes in the oddest places.”
One of the three men walked to the bar and talked to the bartender for a few moments and then back to the table he and the other two had first sat down at.
Gary sipped at his Jack, letting his eyes drift watching the three, they were speaking but it was too low for him to hear. Julia’s interest in the three had peaked Gary’s interest as well. He started looking around, and making it obvious to her, “Where’s the bathroom in this place?”
“Oh, it’s over that direction, make a left just past the end of the bar.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Gary drank down the last of his Jack Daniels, stood up, and walked across the bar room, he passed near the table of the tree men as he headed for the john. Two of the men looked very similar, and Gary thought they could be brothers, the third was smaller, not a tiny man but the other two were over six feet and both tipping the scales in the mid two hundreds Gary guessed. The third guy though was shorter, and a pretty stocky little man. As Gary passed the three, one of the brothers looked at him and Gary nodded to him, the man nodded back, and just as he turned the corner past the bar, he heard something t
hat made his hands go numb, they were speaking Russian.
***
“Oh what the fuck?” Gary looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom.
His brain felt like it was on fire. Gary was running through the scenarios, coincidence were a luxury he felt he did not have room for at the moment. Gary looked off to the far wall, he was in a bar with a woman whom he was being paid to kill. He had one more day to finish the job, they went to lunch, she picked a bar she obviously knew, and three guys come in who appear to be Russian.
He ran his hands through his hair, he let out a long breath blowing it through tightly pressed together lips. He quickly decided there were two obvious paths this situation was on. The first and what he saw as the likely one was that she was somehow mixed up the Russians or working for them. What he saw as the second option was that she was looking to make that contact with the Russians. She was one of those confused people who thought the way those Red bastards ran their country was the way the whole world should be.
Whichever it was, Gary had to make sure it was not a factor by tomorrow. He turned and walked for the door, as he reached for the handle, but as he did a third option slid through his brain. This was just a weird coincidence and all of this built in paranoia and suspicion was just that.
Suddenly his brain was screaming, “Wake the fuck up! You were handed a folder with her in it. No one gets handed to you that has coincidence like this.” Gary nodded to himself as if agreeing with someone else in the room and he, felt through his shirt and pushed the safety on the Colt to the fire position, and went back out into the bar.
Julia was looking his way as he walked, he felt out in the open and once around the corner of the bar he glanced left. The Russians were gone, the table already wiped clean. Not having that literal weight in the bar eased Gary’s stress level. Gary sat down at the table.
Killing Sanford (Gary Cannon Book 1) Page 9