by JL Curtis
Saving the information, she did a quick check on the ‘Lene’s business activity, and cussed under her breath, seeing no deposits. Which meant Marlene either hadn’t gone to the bank, or forgot to deposit the checks Jesse knew she had from the last couple of weeks of sales. She sent a quick email to Marlene about getting the deposits in so she could do the end of the month, end of the quarter figures for the quarterly tax payment.
Jace started tugging on her pants, “Pee pee?” and doing what she thought of as the ‘dance’.
She started to scoop him up, then remembered he didn’t have a diaper on, so she led him quickly into the hall bath. As he perched on the toilet seat and peed, she thought about taking a picture, because nobody would believe it, but changed her mind as the pedophiles and some of the pictures they liked flashed through her mind. After Jace had finished, she cleaned him off, set him down and went back to the table.
An hour later, Jesse realized it was too quiet, and she jumped up from the table, in search of Jace. She found him half on the bed, sound asleep, with Boo Boo laying on the floor next to him. Lifting him up on the bed, she laughed softly and smoothed his hair fondly. Giving Boo Boo a quick pat on the head, she went back to the computer and back to trying to figure out what needed to be done in the next two weeks.
Dragging a pad over, she started a list:
Turn over Wives Club books
Turn in keys/and paperwork with the PD
Get the oil changed in the car and truck
Find the personal radios and chargers
Find medical documents for Aaron and Jace
Find replacement accountant for the ‘Lenes?
Go through closets and donate clothes. To who?
Tapping the pencil on her teeth she thought, What are we going to do about our half of the rent? Can Matt and Felicia afford it without a problem? Crap, I’ve never even asked. I wonder… Toad? I don’t even know where he lives either! He’s a slob, but his SUV… Dunno.
Looking at her watch, she realized it was almost four, and she needed to figure out supper. The four of them had evolved an agreement where Jesse cooked Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. They normally went out on Friday, and Felicia cooked Saturday and Sunday, her days off from work.
Rummaging through the cabinets, she didn’t find anything interesting. Grabbing Jace’s jacket, she put it on him, picked hers up off the back of the couch and headed for the store. Wandering the aisles, she couldn’t make up her mind what sounded good, until she happened to see a mix for meatloaf.
Grumbling to herself, she gave Jace a bottle of water to keep him occupied for a minute or two, and went back to the meat counter. Screw this, I want comfort food. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and green beans, and cornbread. Moving with a new purpose, she scooped up hamburger, a package of bacon, onions, stuff for a salad, and potatoes. After a search of the aisles, she finally found the breadcrumbs and packets to make brown gravy, I’ll cheat on the gravy, they won’t know the difference…
***
Toad glanced across the range office at Matt, “How’s Aaron taking things?”
Matt leaned back in his chair, “I’m not really sure. He’s been spending a lot of time at Balboa, eating and going straight to bed. I haven’t had a chance to really talk to him in the last two weeks, but I am worried about him. He’s never really known anything but the Corps since he was eighteen, and now to be dumped out in his prime has got to be eating at him.”
Toad nodded, “Yeah, I can’t imagine him taking this well. But Aaron doesn’t show his feelings much, at least as far as I know.”
Matt mused, “Nope, he never has. That’s what made him so good. He was cool under pressure, never letting himself get wrapped up in what he was seeing or doing. The only time I saw any real passion if you will, was in Fallujah, when we were taking out bad guys.”
Toad cleared his throat, “Umm, do you know if he’s ever had PTSD? Or ever talked to anybody about it?”
Matt looked sharply at Toad, “Why?”
Defensively Toad replied, “Well, we’ve seen a lot of guys that didn’t deal well with coming back to the states. Hell, you know as well as I do, some of the guys would have stayed in combat all the time if they could. That was the only place they felt comfortable…”
Matt shook his head, “No, Aaron is pretty even keeled. And Jesse is a stabilizing influence, along with Jace and the dog. I’ve known Aaron up close and personal for ten years, and I don’t think PTSD is an issue with him. He’s pretty good at compartmentalizing and dealing with things without the nightmares.”
Toad said, “Well, I… Dammit, I care about him and Jesse.”
Matt chuckled, “Yeah, we all do. Come on over for dinner and you can see for yourself. Maybe Aaron will talk to you. Who knows?”
***
Aaron pushed back from the table, picking up his and Jesse’s plates as Jesse continued to coax Jace to actually eat supper rather than throwing it on the floor for Boo Boo, “That hit the spot,” he groaned, “I’m glad I don’t have to try to get up in the morning and run!”
Jesse grinned, “Oh there might be other workouts we can do.”
Matt and Toad chorused, “TMI, TMI!” As everyone laughed, Jace giggled and flipped one last bit of mashed potatoes on the floor. Jesse picked up his plate and carried it into the kitchen, giving Aaron a quick hug as she set it in the sink.
Felicia picked up Matt and Toad’s plates, along with hers saying, “I guess since everybody is so full there isn’t any room for dessert.”
Toad grinned, “Dessert? I’ve got room!”
Matt laughed, “Figures, you’ve always had a damn hollow leg Toad!”
Jesse said, “Y’all go sit in the living room, we’ll clear the table and give you dessert in there. Aaron, can you grab Jace and give him a quick clean up?”
While Aaron was wiping Jace down, Jesse and Felicia served up the flan, and Jesse made a pot of coffee. When everybody had dessert and coffee, Jesse and Felicia started on the dishes, leaving the guys to talk among themselves.
Toad asked, “Aaron, how much stuff are y’all going to move?”
Aaron shrugged, “Not much. Jesse found a cap for the bed today, and I’m going to go look at it tomorrow. If it works, I think everything will fit in the pickup. We’re not taking any furniture, other than the baby stuff. Mostly it’s clothes, computers, guns, and the little shit.”
Matt said, “Yeah, I’m taking over the furniture, you’ve got a house full already in Texas.”
Aaron replied, “Well, Jesse does.”
Toad said, “Well, if you need any help, I’ve got leave on the books…”
Aaron and Matt both laughed, and Aaron said, “Yeah, you just want an excuse to go see Cindy. What’s going on with y’all?”
Toad cocked his head, “I think we’re serious. But she’s got at least two more years of school to go, and she’s on scholarship. I don’t want to screw that up.
Glancing at Matt then back, Toad continued, “How are you doing Aaron?”
Aaron slumped in the chair and cocked his head, “Coming to grips with it, I guess. I know it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders when I said I’d accept the retirement. I didn’t realize how much stress I was under to perform and how bad that was impacting me.”
Aaron glanced toward the kitchen and lowered his voice, “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. I mean… Well, we’re going to Texas, back to the ranch. I guess I could go back to school, or try to get a job. I don’t know diddly about ranching, or managing a ranch…”
Matt said, “You can learn…”
Aaron sighed, “I guess I’ll have to. The closest college is an hour and a half away, and I don’t see making that commute three or four times a week.”
Toad asked, “Isn’t there an extension in Fort Stockton?”
“It’s a tech school extension off Midland College,” Aaron said. Waving vaguely around, he continued, “Not a lot to show for almost fifteen years. A few pict
ures, a few guns, a truck and some ratty ass furniture. At least I don’t owe anybody anything…”
Matt said softly, “And a wife, and a baby boy that looks up to you. Don’t forget that, ever!”
Aaron shrugged, “There is that, but how am I going to provide for them now?” Smacking his prosthetic, “This makes me a cripple in most people’s eyes. Who’s going to want a cripple around? Who’s going to hire one in west by God Texas?” He asked bitterly.
Matt continued, “If Jesse actually thought that way, she’d have left your lazy ass when you got hurt. Instead, she’s stood by you through all of this. I don’t see that changing, and I don’t think you do either Aaron. Regardless of what happened, you came all the way back. You didn’t let the injury get you down, and you worked yourself back into shape and requalified. Nobody can take that away from you.”
Aaron leaned forward, head in hands, “Yeah, I know… But there are times…”
Jesse walked up behind Aaron, leaned over and stage whispered, “Hey Marine, how about we go get some exercise for you?”
Aaron blushed as everyone else started laughing, and Toad got up, “Time for me to go. Thanks for dinner and dessert. Remember, you need a hand, I’ll be happy to help out!”
Heads or Tails
The old man mentally flipped a coin, then decided screw it, and took a quarter out of his pocket and flipped it. Heads it is…
He pulled out his cell phone, hit Billy’s number and the speaker button. He took a sip of coffee to wet his suddenly dry mouth as the phone rang. Billy’s “Lo?” came softly through the speaker.
“Billy, it’s John. You awake?”
Billy grumbled, “I am now.” He heard rustling and a groan. “Dammit John, do you know what time it is?”
The old man grinned, “It’s six in the morning, time for all good people to be up and about. I’ve already fed the horses, and I’m finishing a pot of coffee.”
He heard more rustling, then Billy replied, “Okay, what burr is under your saddle this time of the morning?”
The old man said, “I need to put a team together…”
Billy interrupted, “I’ll be there at noon. Pick me up.” The old man heard a click and a dial tone. Shaking his head, he punched the phone off and slipped it back on his belt. Now that he’d made a decision, he was hungry. Rummaging through the fridge, he came up with bacon and eggs, and some of Olivia’s left over biscuits.
Whistling as he cooked breakfast, he started planning for what he wanted to say to Billy. He fed Yogi, then dished up the meal, ate and dumped the dishes and pans in the dishwasher. Looking at the time, he decided to spend a little time on the range.
Going into the safe, he pulled out the department M-16, and his mongrel rebarreled Winchester Model 70 .30-06 sniper rifle, along with a box of ammo for each rifle. Setting them to the side, he slipped his gun belt on, and picked up a pair of ears, and shooting glasses off the bookcase. Yogi followed the old man as he carried everything to the back door, and watched as he juggled everything, trying to get a gimme cap and put it on.
The old man leaned the rifles against the counter and looked down at Yogi, “Oh shut up, dog. I ran out of hands.” Putting the cap on, he settled the ears on the cap, and put on the glasses, then picked up the rifles, slung them over his shoulder and grabbed the ammo.
Yogi whuffed back at the old man as he opened the back door, then squirted around him, and out the door. The old man shook his head, and walked slowly to the barn, loading the rifles in the back of the Gator. Ricky came out of the bunkhouse, and the old man said, “I’m going to go down and shoot a bit. I should be back in an hour.”
Ricky replied, “Si, Senor. I have work to do in the barn. I will be here if you need anything.”
The old man started the Gator and, with Yogi following, eased it down the trail to the creek and the range. Opening the old pump house, he got out some targets, a box of practice ammo for the .45 and flipped on the compressor. I would take a minute or two to get pressure up for the calliope for pistol work. He trundled out to the one hundred yard range line and placed two targets, one for the sniper rifle, and one for the AR.
Coming back, he parked the Gator out of the way, unholstered his 1911, and changed out the hollow-point ammo for practice ammo. Reloading the pistol, he also emptied his spare mags and loaded them with more practice ammo. Seating them back in the magazine pouch, he reached in and kicked on the power for the calliope. Walking back ten yards, he turned and faced the mechanism, holding his hands over his head.
As the plates all popped up, he drew and quickly fired eight rounds, taking down eight plates. Dropping the empty mag, he quickly reloaded and dropped six more plates before the cycle completed. Knowing the magazine was empty; he started to change it out, but decided to get some more practice and reholstered the pistol.
Hands up again, he waited for the plates to reset, then drew, fired, dropped and replaced the magazine. His first shot missed, then he hit with the next six. Cussing under his breath, he realized he’d rushed his grip and that first round, causing the miss. After five rounds of fire, he quickly wiped the pistol down, reloaded his defensive ammo, and reholstered the pistol and magazines.
Moving over to the bench, he laid both rifles on the bench, then took the box of ammo and sniper rifle to the end of the bench. Getting down in the prone position, he settled into position, checked the rifle empty, and dry fired until there was no scope jump on the trigger break. Satisfied, he loaded five rounds into the rifle and methodically put five rounds downrange.
Getting up, he safed the rifle and walked down to the target. The rounds clover leafed on the x, with all five overlapping. He couldn’t quite cover them with a dime, but a nickel did cover them all.
Grumbling to himself, he trotted back to the bench, loaded three rounds, and fired them off-hand at the upper left target. Loading three more, he moved to the side of the pump house, braced there and fired them at the upper right target. Loading another three rounds, he sat at the bench and fired them at the lower left target, then safed the rifle again.
Trotting back to the target, he cussed when he saw the off-hand group, it was almost two inches, but he covered the other two groups easily with a quarter. Trotting back to the bench, he picked up the AR, loaded a magazine with thirty rounds and slapped it home, kneeled and rapid fired ten rounds into the head of the B-24 target.
Going prone, he fired another ten rounds at the head, then got up as quickly as he could and fired the last ten rounds into the center of mass. Releasing the mag, he safed the AR, and trotted down range again. All of the groups were less than three inches, with the smallest being the prone group.
Shaking his head in frustration, the old man thought, I’m getting old. It’s time for me to give this crap up; I’m not shooting worth a damn. Still, I think I can do one more run. Hell, even if I don’t come back, Jesse and them will be safe… Ah screw it, I’m gonna do it anyway. I owe it to Clay, and all those kids down on the border. I can’t leave them hanging if I can do something about it!
The old man shut off the power, put the targets back in the pump house and closed it up. Loading the guns into the Gator, he drove it back up to the barn and parked it. Ricky came out and asked, “How did you shoot, Senor?”
The old man shrugged, “I’ve shot better. But I hit all the targets, so I guess I can’t complain. Are you and your dad getting plenty of trigger time?”
Ricky grinned, “Yes, Senor. We shoot at least once a week, I’m getting all my shots in the black now, and I clean my gun after every range trip. Oh, and we have shot one case of ammunition each. I forgot to tell you.”
The old man smiled, “No problem. I’ll order more Monday. Now I’ve got to go clean guns and go pick up Billy. We’ll grab lunch in town, then back here after that.”
“I will be checking the north forty. We probably need to move the cows next week. Mi padre is pretty sure the weather is going to move in and he wants to have them moved before the rains come
.”
“Good. I’ll take a day off and we can punch some cows. I’ll arrange with Halverson to get a couple of his punchers over here to help too. Now I’ve got to go get these cleaned,” the old man said as he picked the two rifles out of the Gator.
***
Billy bounced down the airstair of his jet and trotted over to the old man’s Suburban, flipped his battered briefcase in the back and hopped in the front seat. “Okay John, what’s got your tits in a wringer to the point you want a team to do something?”
The old man backed out of the parking space, “You want lunch?”
Impatiently Billy replied, “Yeah, but I want answers too!”
The old man said, “Okay, I’ll give you answers, but I don’t want you to try talking me out of this.”
“Gah’damnit John, what have you got yourself into?” Billy asked, “Does this have anything to… Shit. Somebody’s given you something you can’t deal with, right?”
The old man pulled into the truck stop, “No, I can deal with it. The problem is nobody else wants to deal with it inside the government. It goes against the agenda they’re pushing. Let’s eat and I’ll explain once we get to the house.” The old man got out of the truck, and Billy finally joined him on the walkway.
Billy started to say something then shook his head, “You stubborn bastard. Alright, let’s eat. Maybe if I’m lucky you’ll choke on your damn hamburger!”
The old man laughed, “Hello, pot talking to kettle. And yes, they do have good burgers here. Now come on.”
***
Back at the house over coffee, the old man laid out the whole thing with Montoya, the data dump to Bucky, the lack of support from inside the government, and the fact that not even a sniff of data was in any of the EPIC alerts. He also repeated the conversation he’d had with Clay, and his concerns.
Billy, for once, wasn’t writing anything down, but the old man could see his back straightening, and a sharp calculating look come into Billy’s eyes. It took the old man a minute to remember where he’d seen that, and finally placed it back in ‘Nam, when Billy was deep into an intel problem or getting ready to get into a firefight.