Traces

by Paul Jr. Logan

  When I entered the hospitable land of Seattle, I had already forgiven all the world around me and was ready to work for the money Warren Vaughn had carelessly paid us.

  In the saloon I had time to leaf through the papers Martin had brought us, and now I knew something about the former colleague of Craig Ruell's. The man's name was Sam Cooper, and by the time he was fighting in Panama, he had risen to the rank of sergeant.

  He had been Ruell's direct assistant on his last operation, and when he returned home, he left the army. Then his track was lost, but Martin managed to locate him in Seattle. A sergeant in the Army helped, he was still in the service and kept in touch with Cooper.

  All this was extremely interesting, especially for those who don't have a TV. I could only hope that the night wasn't wasted.

  The nightclub where the brave soldier Sam Cooper worked was called "The Tropical Butterfly”, and it had as much originality as its name. The neon advertisement, which depicted a dirty, oily blur, was glowing on the puddles in the damaged asphalt. Apparently, this was exactly how the deCeritor envisioned tropical butterflies. On the way from the cab to the entrance I stepped in a puddle twice, and it did not improve my mood.

  There was no barker at the entrance to the club. Either the establishment where Cooper worked for had a steady reputation already, or the greeter had a hangover.

  As I let Heidi go ahead, I made my way to the front lobby, and the maiden with the large breasts, which every minute threatened to fall out of her cleavage, suggested that I take off my outer clothes. As I was not wearing any, I declined, and walked past.

  Inside the Tropical Butterfly it was quite bearable, and the cigar smoke didn't make you take your respirator out of your pocket. However, I wouldn't invite a girl here to ask her to marry me, if that thought ever crossed my mind.

  Heidi went straight to the bar, and, trying to keep up with her, I almost knocked the waitress off her feet. Her breasts were smaller than those of the girl in the lobby, her face didn't look dirty.

  I flopped down on a stool and smiled sweetly at the bartender.

  - We're looking for a man named Sam Cooper, Heidi 's voice always gets a man's attention. The bartender turned to her and gave her a quick appraising look. I'll give him credit -- the guy understood what type of lady she is.

  - Is the lady looking for Sam Cooper? he asked, though he'd just got the answer to that question. Obviously, he wanted to chat with her.

  - It's more like he wants us, Heidi smiled thinly, and the bartender began melting like wax. I realized I've done the right thing by going with her to Seattle.

  - Sam's on duty tonight, you're lucky, lady. At the other end of the bar a man drained his glass long time ago and was pounding it demandingly on the wood panel, but the bartender ignored him. I turned to the side and stared at the stage, wanting to appreciate the show. It took me a few seconds, and then I turned away and made a promise to myself to never look in that direction again. Perhaps I was being too demanding.

  - Where can we talk to him? the ability to combine in her voice softness and firm insistence distinguishes a woman of high society from the rest of the fairer sex. Heidi knows that, and so did the barman.

  - I'll get him now. Hey, Kim, come here. The lady is asking for Sam.

  The waitress, who I had just almost knocked down, came over to us and gave Heidi a similarly appraising look.

  - Sam was just leaving, she said. Her voice was a little hoarse from the booze. He's on a case, Miguel said he'd cover for him.

  - Then you'll find him in that corner of the room, the bartender pointed, and he saw the bum with an empty glass.

  Heidi nodded and walked across the hall squeezing among the people, I noticed that the waitress was also following us.

  The lighting in the hall had changed, new music was playing. As I passed the stage, I saw another dancer on the stage. A big negro with a fluffy moustache was standing by the side door, patting a Mexican on the shoulder.

  - Mr. Sam Cooper? I asked.

  - It's been a long time since anybody called me mister, the man turned to me. Thanks, Miguel. I'll fill in for you sometime.

  - No problem, Sam, the Mexican clapped him on the shoulder, too, and walked to the back of the room.

  - We'd like to talk to you, Mr. Cooper, Heidi said.

  - What a lady. What are you doing in a place like this? Or has Uncle Sam decided to call old Cooper to arms again?

  If he mistook us for government agents, he clearly exaggerated their salary.

  - It's about the Panama case, I explained.

  - I don't know anything about that, he sounded sincere. If that's it, I'm out of business.

  - Captain Kieran Bradford, Heidi said. Four dead soldiers.

  The music and lights had changed again, but I had no desire to look at the new dancer. I doubt she would have been any better than the old ones.

  - What do you know about this bastard? Cooper frowned. Did you come from him? What the hell...

  - I see you don't send him Christmas cards, I remarked.

  - I'd send him a time bomb if I knew where. But I don't know the man squinted. Do you guys know?

  "Guys" was obviously inappropriate to say, since one of us was obviously a woman, but I didn't make a big deal out of it.

  - We came here specifically to talk about this, I said.

  - We know where Kieran Bradford is, and what name he's hiding under. To tell you the truth, talking to Craig Ruell this morning, I didn't feel he was hiding from anyone in particular, but I didn't want to disappoint the brave Cooper.

  The man looked at me, and I knew he didn't like me. I guess to him I was an oligarch, the kind of oligarch who profits from wars in which honest sergeants get killed.

  - Kieran Bradford, the dark skinned man said quietly. I'd give a lot to see him. But, uh he threw his hull back, he set me up once in a very big way. Me and a lot of guys. Ever since then, when I hear his name, I get distrustful. I don't know you.

  Neither Heidi nor I saw fit to introduce ourselves. It was impolite, but necessary. Cooper couldn't have known where we were coming from, or he could have played his own game with Ruell. Nor should he have lied, who knows, we might need his complete trust.

  - Look, Heidi said. We just need to talk. Tell me what happened in Panama. If we had come from Bradford, we would know everything.

  - I might talk to you, replied Cooper. Only it wasn't in Panama, lady. I have a little business to attend for now, but I'll talk to you later. Where can I find you?

  - We can meet back here in an hour, I said. Is that all right with you?

  - I guess so, he frowned once more, and walked out the side door without shaking my hand.

  12

  -Your charms weren't enough here, I remarked.

  - He's been through a lot, Heidi said. And he trusts no one. What did Ruell do? Did he get all those people killed? Then why didn't command punish him. After all, the mission is recorded as successfully accomplished.

  - It's also recorded as a transport mission to Panama, by this time it was completely overrun by our troops. But Cooper said that everything happened somewhere else. Perhaps it was one of those secret operations in countries where there was officially no U.S. military presence. It's also possible that Ruell was ordered to complete the mission at all costs, and didn't see fit to take care of his men when he no longer needed them, and because he had accomplished the mission, the command turned a blind eye to the death of several infantrymen. After all, officially there were no U.S. troops in that country.

  - What country do you think it was?

  - Any country. South America, the Middle East, Southeast Asia, what's the difference? Maybe Cooper can tell us everything. And maybe we can use him as a scarecrow for Ruell. This guy's very determined.

  - We need to make inquiries about him, Heidi said. Since we're for an hour here, we might as well ask around.

  - Ask the bartender, I said. He's got a crush on you. Just don't marry him, okay? I might get
upset.

  She pecked me on the cheek and headed for the bar. I didn't follow, I needed to get out of her way, I took a seat at a table in the corner.

  - What will you drink, sir?

  The old waitress was standing in front of me.

  - Same as you. If you'll keep me company, I smiled.

  - Actually, we're not allowed to drink with customers, Kim said in a low tone, though her whole look said otherwise. -- But you're such a sweetheart... I'll be right back.

  Unlike the bartender, she clearly didn't know how to distinguish a man of upper-class and behave accordingly.

  While she went to get the drinks, I looked behind me at Heidi, chatting cheerfully with the bartender, I was contemplating the phrase "representative of the beautiful gender". Wasn't that silly? Could there be a " representative of the beautiful gender "?

  - Here I am, the waitress was already sitting next to me. In the few minutes she'd been gone she had time to fix her hair and unbutton the top button of her blouse. Her breasts weren't sticking out, but I had something to look at. She put a glass on the table with some murky liquid, the other was clenched in her hand.

  - Nice place, I smiled broadly and took the glass. I wasn't going to drink it, my job was bad enough as it was, so I didn't want to poison my body.

  - I've never seen you here before, Kim sucked on the murky drink, and its levels dropped drastically.

  - Strange guy, that Sam Cooper, I shook the glass in my hands thoughtfully.

  - That's right. He's been in the military someplace, and he's a mess now. They say he's the only survivor of the whole battalion, she touched my hand with her fingers. He's a nice guy, actually, but he's no match to you. She moved closer and leaned slightly towards me, inviting to appreciate her pink flesh that was exposed behind the neckline of her blouse. At the same time, I felt her foot caressing mine under the table. I guess I'll have to take my pants to the cleaners. I smiled even wider and pulled back a little.

  - Does he have friends?

  - You're mean, Kim lightly tapped me on the arm. Why are you talking about him? Or are you gay? she looked at me with suspicion. Hey, buddy, are you gay?

  - Kim, a voice came over my ear. I turned around and recognized the stripper who was doing the second act. Miguel and Sam are having a fight.

  - Let them fight, the girl's fingers gripped my hand a little tighter. Can’t you see I'm busy.

  - They're not fighting each other, the dancer brushed me off. There's a big fight in the backyard.

  I stood up with determination, brushing the waitress off me. I wasn't smiling at all, to have our star witness beaten to death?

  - Where is it? I asked the stripper, and she pointed to the side door that Sam had just walked out of. I started pushing my way out.

  - That's right, he's gay, Kim grumbled disappointedly.

  As I approached the door, I gently pushed it open. A dark passage opened before me.

  I squeezed past them, thinking with regret that the suit would probably have to be thrown away. At the end of the short corridor was another door. I opened it and enjoyed the smell of garbage.

  There were several men located against the back wall. I took a few steps forward and saw Miguel not far from me lying motionless on the dirty asphalt. Sam Cooper was standing in the corner of the courtyard, squeezed on both sides by the walls of the nightclub and the adjoining building. There were five men coming at him at once but they couldn't all get to him in that narrow corner. The former sergeant's skin glistened in the glow of the neon advertisements from across the street.

  As I got closer, one of the assailants struck Cooper with a lucky punch, and the man fell on his knees. At the same instant the other dropped a clenched fist on his head. The other three stood a little away, watching what was going on.

  I wondered if I should pull out my gun. It would have been the quickest way to convince others that I was right, but there were disadvantages. The police would inevitably show up at the shooting, and they'd take us all to the police station. Of course I wouldn't be in any trouble, but I didn't have time to waste with the cops. So I left my gun in its holster.

  - It's called racial discrimination, I said loudly, stopping a few steps away from the fighters. Didn’t they tell you in school that it's not good?

  The three who hadn't been involved in the beating of Cooper turned slowly towards me. One of them was clearly the ringleader of medium height, with a crumpled cigarette in his teeth

  and a cheap but flamboyant suit. At his right was a short guy, at his left a tall, floppy afro.

  - Mind your own business, mate, the short man hissed. Why don't you go and watch the girls.

  - I'm afraid you never had the chance to go to school, I said sadly. And they talk about obligatory primary education.

  - Get out of here, you prick, the ringleader said. I've already had one of you try, the toe of his shoe flipped carelessly toward Miguel that was lying nearby. And I wouldn't advise you to.

  The two at the wall left Cooper and approached the ringleader as well. One of them looked like a closet that the assembly line had mistakenly provided with a human head. He was the one who had knocked Cooper off his feet. The other was shorter, but also strong and corpulent. He had a ring in his left ear.

  - You okay, Sam? I called out to Cooper. How's the American flag?

  - Proudly waving over the battlefield, Cooper wheezed as he stood up. Apparently, those were the lyrics of a song that I didn't know.

  - All right, said the ringleader. Take care of that one, too.

  I took a step back and smiled broadly. The closet and the guy with the earring started walking toward me. Cooper leaned against the wall of the nightclub and took his breath. I could have said something else, but I didn't want to take my breath away, waited until the two thugs had walked a few paces, and then gently moved to the side. The closet was now at my side, blocking the way to the guy with the ring. That was great, but there was a wall behind me, and I had nowhere to retreat. That was bad.

  The big guy began to turn toward me, my hand raised in the air, aiming his head. He ducked much more easily than I would have expected from a man of his size, and tried to punch me in the stomach. I leaned backwards and my back hit the cold bricks of the wall.

  The guy with the ring in his ear came around the side. I waited for the closet to swing, I dodged and fell to my knees in front of the second big guy. It was risky, but he couldn't have expected such a maneuver. I threw both fists forward sharply, and they crashed into his ankles. He groaned, I turned and held up with my arms crossed. In the same instant, a block of stone came crashing down on them -- the closet was aiming for my head.

  Somewhere in the distance could be heard a sob and the click of a folding knife blade. Sgt. Cooper was fighting on his own flank.

  My hands were almost numb from the blow the closet gave me. He swung again, I threw my body backwards and found myself lying on the pavement. At the same time I threw my leg forward and broke the rules of a fair contest, hitting the closet below the waist. True, I could justify myself by saying that furniture doesn't have a belt.

  The big guy didn't like that, but he didn't even bend. Perhaps his stature didn't allow him to bend at all. However, for a few seconds he was out of the fighting line, and I managed to get up. The guy with the ring in his ear had time to recover and was coming toward me. Straightening up, I hit him from below in the jaw, he tumbled to the ground.

  Sam Cooper came into my field of vision. The hustler, clutching a knife in his hand, and the twirling afro trying to bring him down. Shorty was nowhere to be seen.

  The closet came to sensations, and that was serious. When I turned to him, he had already raised his hand, and I missed his blow. The next moment it seemed to me there were two closets, but then I realized I'd just hit the wall.

  The closet came over me, and I threw my leg up again, but he intercepted it and started twisting it. My hand reached for the gun, but the next moment he groaned and let me go. Behind
him I saw the sweat-wet face of Sam Cooper. I punched the big guy twice in the stomach, but he didn't even flinch. Then I broke the rules again, using both fists this time. That finally got through the closet, and he went down.

  I didn't have time to get up. The fidgety afro was next to me and kicked me painfully in the side. I rolled back and was next to Miguel, with my face down. I thought he was alive, but at that moment I could have been wrong.

  The afro jumped up to me faster than I expected, and kicked me again. I grabbed his leg and yanked him down. His head hit the pavement, next to me. I grabbed him by his short, stiff hair and gave another blow. The Afro's eyes rolled back, and he went into silence.

  I had just gotten to my feet when I saw a familiar sight - the closet and the guy with the ring in his ear staring at me again. It wasn't that funny anymore, and I wondered if Sam Cooper was worth the effort.

  I ducked aside again to deal with them one at a time. I let the closet get closer, then grabbed him by the arm and shoved it against the wall. He had already gained enough speed, and all I had to do was to turn the railroad arrow. I didn't see him hit the wall, but I hoped he lost a few teeth or at least broke his nose.

  The guy with the earring was at my side, and before I could react, he punched me hard in the stomach. I collapsed on my knees, but it wasn’t a clever maneuver. He swung, I fell, and a moment later, so did he.

  - You can't be left alone for a minute, I heard Heidi's voice. I couldn't see her, because something was wrong with the air around me, it was full of red and yellow circles. Why didn't you use your gun?

  Someone held my hands above my elbow, and I was able to get up. By this time the closet had already had its way with the wall and lunged at me again. Heidi turned around and slapped him across the neck with the edge of the hand. The closet looked at her, wheezed, and collapsed on the pavement.

  - The lady knows how to behave on the streets, Sam Cooper's respectful voice came from beside me. His right cheek was deeply cut, and his blue T-shirt stained with blood. We have to take care of Miguel.

  - The girls at the bar called an ambulance already. Heidi said. If this was the case you had to finish, we can talk.