“Go.”
“What is going on here?”
“Details are pretty fuzzy, what we are getting is that Rosenblatt Stadium suffered multiple explosions.”
“Know any causes?”
“We’ve got nothing on that yet, sounds bad there. The place was packed, bi-centennial celebration.”
“One of the locals said the news here is reporting gas leak.”
“I wouldn’t count on that, reports we have are multiple explosions. Timing seems too coincidental.”
“I have something to add that would support that I think.”
“Lay it out, wait, hang on a second...”
Gary could faintly hear another conversation on the other end of the line, and then the voice was back, “Air-Force General was found a few miles from the stadium, shot, left on the road. He was at the celebration, apparently the area he was in was mainly untouched, his escorts have not checked in. SAC commander.”
“Air-Force...”
“What have you got?”
“Are you positive this line is secure?”
“As sure as I can ever be.”
“The last of the four, I was finishing that up today. I was with the number four, things were… I was operating outside normal protocols. Things got off track.”
“Kid, you’re not the first one of us to sleep with a target, where does the Air-Force play into this?”
“I was at the targets house, it was after, her phone rang, it was quick, she jumped up, and she didn't say a word just that she had to go. I was going to finish her right then, but she pulled the door open, which didn't slow me but the two men on the porch with M-16’s did.”
“Two?”
“Yes, just two, there was a third in the car at the curb, they were in Air-Force uniforms SAC insignias, two at the porch were Cobb and Jacobs, never saw the third one’s name.”
“But still just three? Wait never mind that we need to back up, run down the list of your targets.”
“Don't you have them, haven't you found the files, I told you these had to be company hits.”
“I’ve got nothing, you tell me, and how did you get these? Who turned these over to you?”
“They came by courier, like a lot of them have in Asia, they were in standard format, sealed, and the briefcase had the correct combination for me and for the date. The company Hawker was on the tarmac right where the packet said, everything fit.”
“Something is off, list me the names.”
“Meir, Julia. Garcia, Raul. Hanson, Paula. And Pringle, Edward.”
“I’m going to run these names again, and run them as a set to see what comes back, in the meantime get out of Omaha, stay on the ground for now, I think aircraft are about to get put on the ground around there anyway. Call me back in an hour, if there’s anything at all I’ll have it by then.”
Gary hung up the phone, “Fuck.”
***
October 6, 1965
He was hurting, Gary had been running two miles morning and night, push-ups, pull-ups, and sit ups seemed to be at every turn and the only thing it seemed that Pablo loved to do more than one of those three was see Gary doing them himself.
This morning was different, half mile run, light breakfast and now he was in a new room in the compound he had not been in before, wooden floor, and what looked like grass woven into straw mats. He had been lead in here by Pablo and left, told that someone would be with him shortly.
Gary sat down on the mat, and he waited. The weave on the mats was tight it was a soft feel and he liked it, they were smooth but not even, placed together like large rectangular floor tiles. Each mat was bordered in silk and the reflection of light across them varied as the direction of the mat changed.
As he lounged on the floor Gary had no idea how he would look back at this place as an area of growth. It would be an environment where he would learn he could not hide. His weaknesses would be exposed here as well as his strengths. Later in his life, this room would become nearly mythical in his memories, like a place disconnected from the world, a place he would battle others as well as himself.
A door opened and three men walked in, they all wore what looked to be heavy pajamas. One of the men was young, the other two Gary guessed to be in their mid-thirties. One was decidedly leading the other two, he approached Gary first. “I am Quinn, I will be your instructor. Please put this on.”
The older of the two remaining men handed Gary a set of his own pajamas, they were heavy and reminded him of the tent his father had kept in the shed in their backyard.
Quinn watched him, “This is Billy, he’s my assistant.”
Gary looked at Billy. Billy was shorter than Gary, thick broad shoulders, his hair was short and was showing signs of gray. Billy had noticeable scars above his eyebrows and his nose was a terribly crooked mess. He was a contrast to Quinn who was tall and slender with long fingers and hands, his hair was long and straight and his skin looked perfect aside from his very short but obviously very thick stubble.
The two men had presence, they were intense but quiet, and even standing still they looked as if they could launch into action without notice.
Gary finished dressing over the shorts and t-shirt he had worn for morning PT, Billy helped him tie a belt that would hold his top closed and Quinn spoke again, “Gary, you are going to be with us most days for at least part of the day. We are going to start teaching you Jujitsu, and to learn Jujitsu you will need a partner. So, this is your partner, his name is Lawrence Boyd.”
“Hi, I’m Lawrence,” he stuck out his hand and Gary shook it, “You can call me LJ the only person who calls me Lawrence is my Grandmother.”
“Gary Cannon, nice to meet you LJ. I’m just Gary, everyone calls me Gary.”
Quinn spoke up, “You two will have loads of time to get to know one another from here on out you are going to be full blown training buddies. You are going to be spending a lot of time together, and I am going to be teaching you how to kill and disable one another, it’s going to be each of your jobs to learn how to do that without actually killing each other.”
“Is that clear?” Billy sharply asked.
“Yes sir.” They answered in unison.
“Good.” Quinn replied, “In that case its time you ladies learned what a break fall is.”
***
That was the beginning of Gary’s training and as promised he and LJ worked each other over every day. They trained seven days a week, the pace was outrageous pushing physical limits as well as mental. The two of them started each morning with a three mile run, then breakfast, at eight they reported to the mats for 2 hours with Mr. Quinn. After that they had time in the sauna and with a trainer named Kim who would patch them up as best she could, the two of them went through a lot of ice.
Lunch was always a light meal followed by a mile run, then time at the range. The initial time with rifles was at 25, then 100 meters, both LJ and Gary progressed through this quickly as they both had previous time with rifles.
LJ was a small man, he was now twenty-four. He had joined the Army at 18 in 1959, He had after some time at Fort Bragg became a part of the then newly renamed 7th Special Forces Group, for a brief time he was stationed in North Carolina which was his home state. Mid-summer in 1962 he volunteered to transfer to Fort Gulick in Panama. Shortly after his arrival, the group was renamed the 8th Special Forces Group. Panama had suited LJ quite well and his time spent training the South American armies had been a time enjoyed, he had been discharged six months ago after he had been recruited by Sanford prior to his leaving the Army. It had been the Sanford offer that had persuaded him to let his enlistment run out.
Gary had learned to shoot from his father in the woods near their house, he never knew just how competent a teacher his father had been with that rifle, or how deadly a man it was teaching him to shoot. Those lessons of his youth showed up on the range in sub MOA groups.
After the range they went to shoot houses and learned the finer points o
f clearing rooms and sight control. On every third day after the shoot houses they did edged weapons training with Quinn and the other two days were devoted to either surveillance or tracking.
There was a two mile run and then supper. LJ had his time after supper off but Gary was then tasked with whatever lessons his tutor Mr. Sung had for him. This was the pattern of Gary’s life for the next twelve months.
***
July 4, 1976 19:10
South of Omaha Gary pulled the Ford into a gas station, forty eight minutes had passed since he talked to Neil on the phone if he did not stop here he was not sure he would be at another phone in time to make his scheduled call. He parked near the rear of the station after filling gas, an old fat man rang him up at the register, a huge wad of tobacco crammed in his right cheek. The fat man laughed after every statement as if there was a humor to everything that was beyond Gary’s grasp.
Gary asked the man for the restroom key. He handed a key attached to ten inches of broom handle, “It’s around back, ha ha.” He responded immediately followed by him squirting a stream of tobacco juice through the open window next to his seat behind the register.
Behind a still face Gary remarked how annoying that man was, he was happy to be walking away from him.
Moving around the small building Gary noticed the greasy stain in the dirt next to that window obviously from years of tobacco spit falling there. He unlocked the door and stepped inside the small hot room.
The smell choked him initially upon his entry. There was a single unshaded light bulb in the ceiling, light did not cast into the single stall, but the urinal was well lit as was the sink. Gary ran some water into his hands and ran his wet hands into his hair, feeling the coolness relaxed him. He moved to the urinal, he had just began to relieve himself and there was a vigorous knock at the door, “Hey buddy hurry up.”
Gary called back, “Almost done one sec.”
“Make it snappy my kid’s really gotta go.”
Gary zipped up, his frustration building, he checked the Omega, six minutes to go, and he needed to go make sure the phone was still free. Gary turned around, unlocked the door, and twisted the knob. There was a flash of light, and Gary realized it was the door hitting him in the side of the head. He had taken just a second to look back at the sink just as he turned the knob, if he had not, the door would have broken his nose. However, the force of the door being thrust inward forced him back and there was one man with his hand already on him one hand grabbing his left forearm.
Gary’s momentary daze was gone, his right hand came down on the hand that held his arm, peeled it off and turned it over, fingers pointing skyward. The motion was quick and accurate and Gary pushed the upturned hand and moved out the door. The moment he broke the plane of the door he saw a large fist headed his way, it was a slow wide punch and he sidestepped it and delivered a quick kick to that man’s midsection sending him backwards.
Gary twisted the hand to the point of tension again re-asserting his control and moved the man at the end of the arm the hand belonged to in a circle which ended with him bouncing off the cinderblock wall of the gas station. Gary let him fall, the second man was back up he had unfolded a Buck knife from a leather pouch on his belt.
The man’s movements with the knife were about as wild as the punch he had tried to throw a few seconds earlier, the first horizontal slice was short and Gary took a step back. The man was unphased by his miss and tried with equal vigor with a back handed swing.
Gary stepped in closing the space between them, blocking the man’s forearm with both hands his left grasping the man’s knife hand and turning it over, Gary stepped back and away increasing the turn on the man’s forearm in a direction it was not intended to turn.
Prior to the sudden screams beginning deep in the pit of the man’s chest there was the sound of snapping tendons, the feeling of bones grinding past each other, and the knife flying free of a hand’s grasp and into the dirt in the shade of the building. Once the proper rotation had been achieved Gary never stopped moving forward on the man as he twisted and forced him into the ground.
The man went to one knee awkwardly, spittle dripping from his lower lip and another cry of pain to follow. This cry was interrupted as Gary had pulled the Colt from his belt and it was pressed firmly into the man’s cheek just below his left eye.
The man looked up at Gary, his eyes wide, his face was red but white around the area where the pistol was being driven into his cheek. Calmly Gary asked, “Why are you here?”
“What?” the man answered.
“I said, why are you here? Another question I might have asked you was, who sent you, but none of the people who would know to send people after me would have sent you two jerk-offs. So, why, are, you, here?”
“The TV.”
“What about the television?”
“You’re the guy on the television.”
“On the television?”
“You’re the one that blow’d up Rosenblatt, it’s what was on the TV.”
“The TV’s saying I blew up the stadium?”
The man nodded. Gary looked off to the north for a second, confused, “So, I blew up the stadium and you two thought this was a good idea?”
“Clint and I saw ya commin’ in here and we knew it was you so we was gonna get ya so’s we could have the reward.”
“Reward?”
“Yes, yes sir. One hundred thousand dollars.”
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I said fuck, I’m sure you are familiar with the word. What it means for you today is that you have pissed me off by jumping me coming out of the john, but you have done me a favor. So, your broken arm and the bruises are going to make us about even. Well that and this.”
“Wha...”
Gary clubbed the man with his pistol butt just behind the right ear and the man went to the ground.
***
Gary looked around, two men lay at his feet, and he could feel now that soon more would be laying at his feet, he would lay waste to everything and everyone. He slid the Colt into its holster, glanced at the Speedmaster, he was late, it was two minutes, but late. Neil knew how he had been drilled over the years about how important it was that check ins be kept.
Gary took a breath and made his way for the phone, he had to call in now make it short and set up another time to check in, he would be in bad shape if he stayed around this speed bump too much longer.
Gary dialed the number, first ring it picked up, “What happened?”
“Two locals. Something about the news, I’ve got to get clear of my location.”
“Gotcha. Your face is everywhere. Not sure how. Stay clear of everyone, I’ll meet you in Kansas City, where we first met, I’ll be there tonight. Things are bad. I’ll explain when I get there no time now.” And Neil hung up the phone.
Gary walked back around the front, he leaned in the window, “Another fellow came back needed to use the head, I gave him the key, he didn’t look so good, might be a while.”
The fat man waved at him never lifting his head from what he was reading on the counter. Gary turned and walked to his car, he could see the heat waves blurring the road off in the distance, and he thought that was fitting, things seemed to be getting blurry, more so than normal. He was going home, almost home. He thought about that scary dark eyed man he met and thought about where he was heading to meet him again.
As he pulled from the gas station and onto the road Gary thought about how much his life had changed the last time he met Neil in Kansas City. Gary was pretty certain he and Neil were the only two who knew where they had met, that fact alone made Gary nervous. Neil wanting to meet was nothing new, the two had been close, they were each the closest thing to family the other had.
No, what worried Gary was that Neil felt that even over a secure line he would not be able to tell Gary where to meet him.
***
Even in the darkness Finch’s law firm looked the same to Gary,
just as he remembered it. He slouched in the seat and looked at the windshield plastered with bugs. He could smell the bugs cooking in the car’s radiator, and this time of year they were always thick, especially at night.
Gary looked up and down the street, he could not recall if the neighborhood had looked this rough all those years ago, but it looked like it could be a place where a weak person could lose their wallet, and likely a lot more. “What a fitting place for a law office.” Gary said out loud and then he laughed to himself.
Gary lit a cigarette and listened to the engine ticking, watched smoke curl inside of the cabin, only lit from the streetlight forty yards down. He thought of that day, the empty car ride, and the first time he met Neil. Neil’s eyes had been the worst part, they were so deep, so scary, and they looked like there was so much behind them. At the time Gary had no idea how much was really behind them, and how much his would come to have the same look.
As he waited Gary scoured his memory trying to recall every moment since he had touched down in San Diego. He had to have slipped somehow, but he knew it was not the work he was doing that had gotten him on the news. It was something that he had no idea what had happened until after the fact. Still, nothing was coming to him, he concentrated harder.
The longer he sat, the more he thought. Gary knew those thoughts would eat him alive and he needed to stop them, he closed his eyes and searched for something to take his mind off of this problem for a moment.
He envisioned Julia’s smooth skin basked in the late afternoon sun. He remembered how a light sheen of sweat had given her skin such a nice shine. He could almost feel her skin with his fingertips now as he had traced the top of her hips with his hands. Gary could almost smell her perfume, feel her hair against his face, and see the clear shine of her eyes in the dim light.
Gary’s eyes snapped open as the cigarette burned him at the knuckles, he hopped and jumped and he flicked ashes and stomped at the floor to put out the cherry that had been dislodged from the sudden start. After his brief moment of calamity he noticed the light was on in Finch’s office.
Killing Sanford (Gary Cannon Book 1) Page 15