…A willing-scope.
[Endeavoring to overcome...]
...David’s ‘motive’ and motivation-had a lot to-do with what went-on. ...At least, that’s the way the authorities had-it. Bo Jon would wrap himself-in this very determination. ...Very much-‘at issue’, was rather David Calvin Garr was subceptive-to what was a heinous-crime that the men-entrusted to his-care was what obviated; in the circumstance, now at-hand... Many men-would be placing the blame-on him. Yet still, within the seriousness-of a large-assembly of men, went into back-country and that he was like so-many men being hunted; was surviving by ‘sure-will’ of getting-away with it.
And the circumstance-of-murder, circumvented the certain-proprieties that succumbing in victim, a certain invenerateness, and viciousness... Subdividing an academy-of men, and the accord of a lawful and legitimate-society, he’d come-from… David could-have done ‘worst’… He was a subordinate of success, courage and succinct-capitulation; that encompassing civil-law, was at-risk, from the very-thing men risks their-lives and livelihood; trying to be committed, and having to deal-with...
David had-to be a ‘suspicious’-man. Yet-in other, self-deprecating-ways, he was super-nascent, his character had to be grounded-in self-sacrifice. But men tend-to overcome based-on a ‘question’ and ‘stigma’-of a strained-sobriety. That he came to be understood, he was getting-back something. That meant he was doing obviously-for an exact-endowing… Like-men of military or government, he was not only ‘honored’ but saw in-it the sustenance to prove himself ‘above’-terms and ‘below’ a self-reward. Bo-sub-divided his mind between the ‘harsh’ wind-blown snow-of the range, and what was the desolate, opportunity to be a ‘survivor’, in being ‘on-the-run’...
He thought on what might have been the deep-‘throes’, and that human-contention. ...And how surely, both-officer and soldier went divided among self-terms… Idiomatically, involved-in from circumstance to circumspection; always under ‘code of law’... As they went further-into isolation, he could feel the ill-certainty and embedding, as it was in Vietnam. The ‘thrux’ of ‘loneliness’, and a forlorn; not-felt generally, in the United States. Here men, women and children were rescued, not out-of-contention but condition. Where men were alone out of self-virtue, not self-vocal or an infirm… David-was ‘lost’ between these...all the fear-of war and the innocence-of-reality folding-inward… He could see the loneliness-of Vietnam, the mud and cold; the faultiness-of being ‘foreign’...
But this was America: the Land-of-the-Free, yet the dissimilarity-seemed a strange, starkness. As they-rode the Bearcat-up the snowy-pass, he-wondered if the touch-of-war had been not something out of today, as an ‘officer’ could face in the ‘regency’-of war... Had David Garr become a ‘casualty’ in some strange-way, one could see that the implicit-symbolism so often played-out, as the contrasting-earnestness. Of being someone borne-into-war... Had David subjugated, the simplicity of ‘war’ with the simplicity of a ‘regency’, that some ‘kink’-in the ‘vortex’-of time; placed six-men within an ‘'eye'-of-destruction’.
He had-to fathom that war in one-man, having been a ‘simplicity’-of human-saga; or was it that something that would play-out in a policing ‘misfortune’...becoming a struggle of-odds, in severe-proctor. ...That if Garr, who was now on the run, was the evident-victim; or was being a cause of an evident-expending. Whichever it was, he-had to be ‘betting’ his-life on what would occur, with men in an ever strident-agency, as he once ’was’. It was seemingly, going to be a play-on ‘semantics’...within death and a devoid, in what was a poetic patrimony.
'Ah, darn.' '...The belt has worn-through'..., said Will, the driver of the Cat. He was big, 6’3” yet his demeanor was that of a young-man. He-drove the vehicle and several of the other officers had seemed-to be wanting him-to. ...'...What yah-say now Big Will, you’ve done it again'… The other-officers seemed very familiar with him. They didn’t seem to take their present-condition, seriously. The young-men seemed all-to familiar with serious conditions.
Bo, was one-of the first ones-out. He breathed-deeper than the other four-men. He was quiet, not calling attention-to himself. It had seemed a ‘parable‘, that they’d stopped near the upward-slope of the last-pass; that was onward, until descent-at the first drop-off spot... The men didn’t seem superstitious, yet ill-sobriety and counter-productive endeavors in-rustics, had a way of coinciding. They were-in the elements as sure as they were Sheriff’s Deputies; assigned to high-mountain duty. He noticed the irreverence for code, as irreverence for what was ’plot’... It was becoming evident that a reversal of roles was not entirely, unpredictable.
He-watched the snow-filled clouds roll in over-head as sure as he-felt the heartbeats of young men superficially, engaged-in surmising-internalizations… He-began to postulate the principle-of Deputy, air-temperature and ‘time’; which rather or not endeavored, would become a ‘plight’. He-watched as each succumb-to temperature, succinct-silhouette and as consummations-of the social-kind. ‘Why tease me…?’ ...’You always seem confused, that’s why’… The head-Deputy, seemed-to order people around, adroitly.
He wasn’t embarrassed by his-role in all this, just the abrupt-sophistication of ‘man’, and ‘manifesto’... In the maelstrom-of fault and fate and by what would these men turn-to... It was no point to be making excuses which might be in subordinals, still Bo Jon had-to spare them the subsidy, of severity. Washington had ‘rubes’ like any other place, yet he felt that their weaknesses could-be the strength in David Garr’s fortune. Bo felt was being imminent that he’d be in this situation, for his-story would be told-by the actions and expertise of men-ordered, into the case. If every man, understood that fear, enforcement and frugality worked hand-in-hand; the few men in resolve might-catch and prosecute any assailant and prove any crime…
...Yet men tended-to see into a smoke-screen, confused by the breadth-and-width of the crime; and tended-to be idiomatic and not-logical... Bo Jon was rarely, confused-by issues, he’d seen many a crime, undermined-by vague and ill-effective men and women. As he got-back in the Bearcat and they took-off he felt that more was-to become of the proctor-of David; as sure as the West-ward winds came-down the mountain, and meant a storm was coming. They arrived-at the first base-camp, and the men were already heading-up the mountain; Bo decided it was time to make himself-scarce...
He-went to put his stow-away and perch somewhere out-of the usual-’flux’. ‘Okay, we got six-copters readying to ride-up range and triangulate-over the upper-basin, over to the former-burnt range and evidence gathering region; where the dead-men were found and un-found-sightings and verifications-of David Garr’s dead-body, or direction of the assailant…’ ...The men began asking briefing-questions; trying-to understand that the mass-murderer was somehow, someone-they as good officers could get a good motis apparendi.
But the head-detective, could not elaborate but made trans-organizational schemes which could cause them to capture a criminal that-from their-stand-point had a special-informational agenda; with the government, and the detectives which were unable-to give total-background. One-man asked how they were going-to capture a criminal who’d not only been made a black-out in case-study but the evidence put forth was simply, that he killed someone while acting-on the side-of being a ‘firefighter’… The detective-simply said: ‘Just do your job that’s all we can ask-of you.’
The men then, began-to prepare for what the elements which would possibly, make a life-or-death journey, and involve men making decisions that would-be based, on determination-of a peril and not a plausible... Bo Jon knew these men were not, in the best of situations, as they prepped their-equipment, made their final-register, looked-through and understood their-positions; they-looked already morose-by the job… He could not have breathed life in them in-what they had to-do. He-sat quietly, at the back-of the room, when the head-detective noticed the tall-man seated atop a desk.. ‘My name is Littlehorse, I came with th
e last down-crew…’
‘...It-seems you may have a serious ‘malay’ over Mr. Garr. I’ve worked under the D.A. before, they call all-terms fallible and all-evidence, temperamental… I don’t envy you, sir.’ Said Bo Jon. The head-detective highest-ranking officer had grabbed a cup of coffee and listened to his men count-off as they had taken-off up the mountain-range. ‘Yeh, my men surmise, as much as I do. Yet as typical-to any case they have to prove what ‘society’ says it wants from their noble-cause... It’s their job and I’m in-charge. I’m sure I don’t have to elaborate…' This man, so appointed-to duty had a ‘watershed’-case; the men, responsible for this-case was obviously, caught-in a agent-embedding that a man who-kills while under the agency, had, both, governmental-liability and a ranking, as a ‘flash-in-the-pan’…
End.
Four
The designs of Jesse-‘the kid’…
…turned wise-urchin.
...Rising-above hardship, and arriving-in a ‘poetic’ of a selfhood…
Sequoia Trail-A Bo Jon Littlehorse P.I. Novel. Second Edition Page 9