Book
1
War
Dedicated
to all the men and women who have had the courage to down the
uniform, forsaking their own self wants in defense of those they
love, country and the innocent.
'I saw, and beheld,
a white horse and he who was sitting on it had a bow, and there was
given him a crown, and he went forth as a conqueror to conquer.'
Apocalypse 6:2
Chapter 1: The
Calling.
No one really knew
Joseph's background after he had turned twenty, for nearly ten years
it seemed that he had fell off the face of the earth. Then six months
ago he had returned to his hometown of Helena, Montana. His fellow
parishioners had now and then inquired about those missing ten years
in which Joe would only reply, 'Intelligence'. Most people in his
community understood what that meant and let the subject fade away.
It was like every
other morning for Joe, five am wake-up, cup of coffee and two bowls
of cereal before going out to the garage to have a cigarette.
Refraining from smoking in the house was a habit he had developed
several years ago when he had been married. After his routine was
over he washed his face, combed his now shoulder length hair and
turned on the TV to catch the day's weather. Of course that was his
only use for a TV, always the weather and always on mute.
Once the weather was
over he put on his boots, refilled his coffee cup and went out on the
porch for a breath of the cool crisp March, Montana morning air.
Since returning home, Joe spent most of his life reading and
occasionally writing this or that, some short stories here and there.
Life was slow for him, but he didn't mind, it was what he wanted,
what he needed. He had no wife, no children and very few friends.
Sometimes though he found himself lonely and depressed, at these
moments in his life he always found something to take his mind off
those types of thought by taking a walk or hiking, now and then he
would paint. Still he would feel as if his home, like his life was
empty, void of any and all existence.
When he reenter the
house he heard his computer ping, signaling that he had received an
e-mail. Slowly he made his way to his computer, he knew who the
message was from. One of the only emotional thrills in his life. It
was from a woman he had met five years back while he was in Japan.
They had become close friends and had stayed in contact. Their
relationship had been slowly building and now she was planning to
come and visit him in a couple of month.
He clicked the
cursor to open the message.
Dear Joe;
Thank you so much
for your letter and pictures. I got them last night when I got home
from work. I hope you are doing fine. I have decided that I would
like to come to see you next month, if that is okay? I miss you and
hope to talk to you soon. Take care.
Kisses
Chisako
Of course it was
alright Joe thought to himself. Several times in the past he had
entertained thoughts of being with her. Even though he wasn't sure of
how to reply at the moment. So he just sat there in his chair smiling
to himself. This woman had been the monkey wrench in his life. After
ten years working in Intelligence and two failed marriages Joe had
promised himself that he would forget women and go cold turkey in a
sense. On the day he left Japan, he had checked his bags in and when
he turned around there she was waiting for him. In the little time
they had she expressed her feelings for him. They had had a rocky
relationship over the years because of his work, but they always
seemed to come back together. For now, Joe just sat there considering
with a smile all the possibilities.
Looking out the
window toward the lake and the mountains he was brought back to the
present, glancing at the clock over his computer he got up and threw
on his jacket. Outside he lit up a cigarette and walked down the
street to the mail boxes at the end of the street. Living the simple,
nearly Spartan life as he does, Joe rarely gets any mail, but there
again it was just another daily routine that he takes a pleasure in.
Pulling out his keys, he unlocked the box, inside sat an envelope
with no stamp and only the name Virgil written in bold type on it's
center. Joe stood there for what seemed like hours staring at it as a
chill crawled up his back. Finally he took the envelope and stuffed
it into his pocket. His mind swirled, his right hand started to shake
as memories of the life he had left behind flooded his mind.
He walked around the
sub-division as he tried to push the concerns, worries and memories
out of his mind. To no avail he returned home, deep down he knew he
would have to accept the contents of the messages. He could see the
life that he had entertained in his mind with Chisako slipping away.
How life could be so cruel, he would never know, but he also knew he
could do nothing to change it. In the kitchen he took out a steak
knife, opened the envelope and slowly read the contents.
'Dante's Company
is being reinstated. Assignment is extraction of an Intelligence
officer from Japan. This officer has in her possession documents
vital to the Department of Defense. Familiar yourself and your team
with Operation Serpent's Fire. In forty eight hours you will report
to Malmstrom AFB's Legal Department.
Virgil'
Now Joe's mind
started to swim as he tired to make sense of the letter that now laid
on his counter. Why was his former team being reinstated for an evac
mission? Sure vital documents are involved, but any agency from the
State Department to Military Intel could respond a lot faster to this
problem. Not only that the men of his unit were now spread out
between three countries, America, Korea and Japan. Three of them had
wives and children. Whatever these documents were they must be really
important to the DoD.
He picked up the
letter and places it into the shredder and then takes the results to
the garage where he burns them. After burning another cigarette he
goes to his guest room closet, pulled out his duffel bag, returned to
his room's closet where he opens a false floor. Under the house he
opens a muntion's box and starts packing it's contents into the
duffel bag. He zipped up the bag he placed it next to the steps and
returns to his living room. Sitting in his chair he closed his eyes
and lets the memories flood his being.
*
* *
Drying
himself off Alex took care not to look at his own haunting image in
the mirror Grabbing his tags hanging from the towel rack, he held
them in clinched fists for his routine silent prayer to the unknown
before putting them around his neck. Throwing on his t-shirt and
grabbing a fresh pair of starched Dickies from his duffel, he suited
up and laced his boots.
Alex
breathed through the ever-present frustration that had settled upon
his life as he strapped on his watch. Already thirty-five and not a
damn thing. 'My, how time seems to pass when you’re living in a
hell.'
Lighting
up a cigarette, he left his apartment to meet a friend at the near by
pub. Damn leg was starting to hurt again.” A block away from the
joint, Alex stoped to watch a couple of kids race by on their bikes.
Memories of his brother and him riding that way gave him a moment of
relief from his daily life of drudgery.
Entering
the pub, Alex's nerves and bearing tensed from all the human
interaction and years of training. Without looking around, he walked
over to their usual table in the corner where two full beer glasses
sat. The bartender waved at him and bowed, Alex did the same in
return. Moments later, a Vietnamese man joined him at the table.
Alex
lifted his glass for his first sip. “Tran.”
“Damn
bro, you look like crap.” His friend’s voice was far too deep for
his small body and quipped with a slight Vietnamese accent.
“Yeah
I feel it.” Alex lifted his glass towards his friend. “Cheers to
this day finally being over and I haven't maimed or killed anyone,
yet.”
They
both chuckled and took a celebrated swig and lit up. Besides the
noise of laughter, electronic dart board and the blaring TV, Alex and
his friend are unnoticed in their own little world.
“Looks
like company.” Alex nods in the direction of a man with military
stature scanning the bar.
“Maybe
we toasted too soon.”
The
medium sized man’s eyes stop on them and with quick steady steps,
he makes his way to them.
“Excuse
me which one of you is Captain Faulkner?”
“That
would be me, and I’m retired so you don't need to call me Captain,”
Alex said.
“Yes
Sir,” he said.
“Don't
need to say sir either.”
“Yes...
I mean okay.” The stammered response told of this young man's rank,
a Petty Officer. For them, there was no structure or order without
yes sir. “I have an urgent message for you Mr. Faulkner.”
Tran
grinned. “Looks like the Agency lost another one of their tit
suckers.”
The
young man hands a sealed file to Alex. Alex eyed the red stamp that
said 'Eyes Only'. Man, not this again. He opens it and reads it over
a couple of times then puts the document back into the envelope and
hands it back to the Petty Officer. “Dismissed.”
“Yes...
Mr. Faulkner.” The man turned and left.
“What
is it Alex?”
“You
know the rumors we heard about that Canadian agent getting whacked in
Tokyo?”
“Yeah.
What about it?”
“He
had a partner who squirreled and went into hiding. They want me to
get her out.”
“Scotch?”
“Looks
like I’ll need it if I’m going to be babysitting some girl.”
Alex raised his hand to signal the bartender. “You know Tran, I
really hate this life sometimes.”
“I
hear you Alex. I hear you. So did the file say where she might be, or
have a photo? Was she good looking?”
“No,
just a four line description and maybe in Kansai. The description was
so great that it could be a thousand women just in Osaka alone.”
“So
in other words you’re screwed.”
“Basically.”
They
got their scotch and sat there lost in their own thoughts. Alex
reviewed what he had memorized from the document. Four lines. Four
freakin lines. A slight commotion started on the other side of the
bar. A man forcefully took a hold of one of the female customer's
arms, yelling at the guy next to him. The two bartenders tried to
calm the aggressor but it seems to only fuel his drunken anger.
“Yours
or mine?” Stated Alex with a half cocked grin.
“Have
at it Alex.”
Alex
stood and lit another cigarette. All eyes locked on the loud mouth,
Alex moved freely and without notice until he was within one step of
the aggressor. In one flawless move, Alex wrapped the individual up
like a constrictor until the man went limp. “Good Night knot-head.”
Alex snarls, before dropping the unconscious man to the floor and
returning to his friend and drink. It was going to be a long night.
Back
at the apartment complex around midnight, Tran paused before heading
up the stairs to his own rat hole above Alex’s. “Forgot to tell
you, you have a new neighbor.”
“Yeah
I know, seen her this morning pass by my window. Not too bad.”
“Night
bro.”
Alex
made his way to his apartment, mulling over his new assigned problem.
So much for retiring and getting a real life. Would’ve probably
killed him anyway. Just the boredom alone. Didn’t mean he couldn’t
or shouldn’t have a night with a woman. He couldn't even remember
the last time he had been with a woman. Didn’t matter either way.
He’d never been a one night stander, and he was all but hopeless in
the field of love and romance. It all served to paint his mood a
dirty, nastier black.
Ten
minutes later, he was standing under a spray of hot water, letting
the tension release from his body. It would require something a lot
stronger for his mind. He stood till even time melted away and no
longer existed for him. Closing his eyes, a thousand fragments of his
tortured life come flooding back. He braced his hands on the shower
as the hell in his soul came to claim him. He didn’t fight it. He
let it rip him apart, punishing the devil he’d become. When he
trembled from the penance, he gasped for air, and in that one single
point, he founds solace and returned to the present. To live.
Laying down on his
beat up mattress with a loss spring that pressed into his kidney he
closes his eyes. Despite how hard he fixated on the hellish hunting
trip that would begin at dawn, he was still sucked back in time to
the bloody fields that haunted his every breathing moment.
