The Grey Man- Changes Read online

  The captain nodded and the loadmaster gave them a safety brief, the location of the toilet, and where the box lunches were. He also pointed out the large cooler with the drinks and told them it was fifty cents per drink, with a two drink maximum. After he finished, he asked if there were any questions. Hearing none, he went off to find the other det and the HQ contingent and get them briefed.

  Aaron and his teams staked out the port side canvas seats, knowing the one pallet of ‘nice’ seats would go to the HQ folks and the captains, so everybody positioned their backpacks near where they were to have access to their pads and mummy bags, except for McKenzie who was cussing the fact that he’d forgotten his mummy bag. The rest of the teams laughed and ragged on him until the colonel and others boarded. As the aft ramp whined closed, they heard the engines beginning to spool up, and the loadmaster came over the PA telling them to take seats and remain strapped in until directed.

  With a lurch, the C-17 started taxiing out to the active runway, and Aaron said a quick prayer for Jesse and Darlene to get home okay. He quickly texted Jesse, I love you! With that, he shut off his phone, leaned back and prepared to endure the upcoming hours of boredom.

  ***

  Darlene and Jesse had driven down to the last parking lot, past the trainers and pulled in next to the fence. Sitting quietly, they listened to the C-17 taxi out, and watched as it took off and disappeared into the haze.

  Darlene sighed and said quietly, “‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; or close up the wall with our English dead! In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility; but when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger.’”

  Jesse cocked her head. “Shakespeare, Henry the Fifth?”

  “Act three, scene one, before the attack on Harfleur,” Darlene replied.

  “Why that one, Darlene?”

  Darlene turned to face Jesse. “Because I was studying literature that semester of Mike’s first deployment after our marriage, and I said it then. He came back, and I’ve said it every time he’s deployed since. It’s brought him back every time!” Scrubbing her face, she continued, “You want to get something to eat? I’m starved.”

  Jesse shrugged. “Sure, I guess I could eat a salad. I’m trying to keep the pounds off, but damned if I know how. PT isn’t getting it done, and I swear I’ve gained at least ten pounds. Harfleur, Harfleur-” Jesse snapped her fingers. “Sword Beach, I knew I’d heard that before!”

  Darlene looked at her curiously, “Sword Beach?”

  Jesse nodded, “Harfleur is in Normandy and was designated Sword Beach on D-Day.

  Darlene said, “I never knew that, or maybe I just never connected it.”

  Jesse shrugged. “Just one of those odd little bits of trivia running around in my head. Thankfully Aaron and the guys aren’t hitting a beachhead like that. They’re only going to be running patrols, but I still worry about him and the rest of the team.”

  Another Day- Another Arrest

  After another frustrating day at the office, and nothing from Bucky on the ID’s of the two that attempted to kill him, the old man eased his new car into the parking lot at the truck stop and went in to pick up his to-go burger and fries. He also wanted to let Yogi run a bit in the little dog park nearby, so he first put Yogi in there then walked into the restaurant section. After paying for his order, he dropped it in the car and watched Yogi running like a mad dog around the dog park, chasing the tennis ball, while he sipped his coffee, his hand never far from his 1911. Shit, do I go home? What the hell do I do? I’m spending every damn day waiting for the other shoe to fall. I’m turning into a real asshole. I’m not sleeping, and I’m not dealing with people well. Maybe I just need to go back across the border and just have it out with those assholes. I’ll be dead, but at least I won’t be dealing with it any longer.

  He finished his coffee and called Yogi, leashed him and walked back to the car. As he was putting Yogi in the back, he heard a screech of metal, and looked up to see a dark Mercedes back out of a parking space scraping the side of a Toyota in the process. Closing the door on Yogi, he started around the front of the car to go see what was happening, only to realize the Mercedes was driving off.

  Cussing, he ran back, jumped in the car and took off after the Mercedes, calling in the plate number and asking dispatch for backup and telling them to dispatch another officer to the truck stop for the original hit and run. The Mercedes finally pulled over on the on ramp to I-10 east, and he pulled in behind the car. Deciding to go ahead with the stop rather than wait on backup, he advised dispatch he was out of the car and was told both DPS and Car 204 were responding. As he walked gingerly to the driver’s side door, he pulled his Maglite out and kept a hand close to his pistol as he didn’t know what he was going to be facing.

  Shining the light in the car revealed smoke in the interior, and as the window rolled down a couple of inches, he smelled a strong odor of marijuana. Shining the light in the window, he saw a slightly disheveled young blonde behind the wheel, with what appeared to be a lit joint in her hand and a dark-haired young man in the passenger’s seat.

  “Miss, please roll down your window, shut the car off and give me your license and registration.”

  The woman stared owlishly up at the old man and replied, “You’re not a real cop, you don’t have a uniform on. I’m not giving you shit, old man.” With that she flipped the joint out the window, hitting him in the chest with it and starting to roll her window back up. He jammed the Maglite into the window and said once again, “Roll down your window, shut the car off and give me your license and registration. Now!”

  Just then dispatch came over the radio, “Car Four, license comes back to a black Mercedes, Hertz rental, theft of services from Los Angeles Airport. They are requesting hold car for retrieval.”

  From inside the car he heard the male say, “Oh fuck, we need to get out of here, Missy.” The old man saw her hand go to the gear shift, and he pulled the Maglite out in one motion, then shattered the window. Holding the woman back with the light, he reached in, turned the car off and hit the door lock to unlock both doors. He then pocketed the keys saying, “Driver, step out of the car. Passenger, remain seated. Do not move.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two cars pull in behind his. The first was Trooper Wilson, and the second was Deputy Hart. They both came on a run, and the old man directed Hart to the passenger side of the vehicle.

  The driver remained in her seat, making no move to get out of the car. Instead, she was reaching furtively into her purse. The old man shined the light in her eyes and drew his pistol yelling, “Do not move.” He moved forward and pulled the door all the way open to better see what she was doing as Wilson stepped up beside the old man.

  Wilson said, “I’ll get her out, Captain. I’m going in low,” as she reached and unbuckled the woman’s seatbelt. Careful to stay clear of the old man’s line of fire, she forced the young woman out with an arm bar, as Hart extracted the male passenger out of the other door.

  The woman fought for a few seconds until Wilson increased the pressure and put her face down on the concrete. The old man holstered his pistol and assisted Wilson in cuffing the woman, who continued to fight them. Then, he directed Hart to place the male passenger in 204 and question him separately.

  They picked up the young woman and carried her kicking screaming and cursing to a safe location in front of the old man’s car. He held her there as she continued to scream and curse him, while Trooper Wilson did a quick search of the interior of the car. She came back with a Louis Vuitton purse and eight baggies of marijuana saying wistfully, “I wish I could afford something this nice.”

  She dropped the baggies on the hood and proceeded to upend the purse, dumping its contents on the hood. Sorting through the detritus, she found a wallet and opened it. She found the driver’s license. “Captain, meet Miss Missy Roland, age twenty-two, Fifth Avenue, New York City. One wonders wh
at she’s doing driving across Texas in a rental car full of dope.”

  The young woman spat, “Bitch, you have no right to go through my stuff like that. I have a prescription for medical marijuana, if you must know. And why I’m here and where I’m going is none of your fucking business. As soon as I call my daddy, I’ll be out of this hick town.”

  The old man keyed his radio and passed the young woman’s info to dispatch, requesting a wants and warrants check and telling dispatch to send a wrecker to retrieve the car. He said hopefully to Wilson, “Hey, you need a bust? I’m actually supposed to be on my way home.”

  Wilson laughed. “No thanks, not tonight. I’ll pass on this one, captain. But I’ll help you inventory the vehicle.”

  “Thanks. Um- Can we stash her in your car? I’ve got Yogi with me and no cage in mine.”

  “Sure, captain.” Taking Roland by the handcuffs, she marched her back to her DPS car and placed her none too gently in the back seat.

  Hart came up from talking to the passenger and handed the old man his driver’s license, Daniel De La Cruz, twenty-one, Palm Springs, California. The old man called it in, and Hart said, “Captain, looks like they are runaways from a treatment facility in Orange County, California. Apparently her idea for them to leave, and he admitted he knew where they could get drugs. He said they were going to Florida, where his uncle is.”

  The old man replied, “Thanks, Hart. Now, let’s search the car and see what little gems they’ve left for us. I guess I’ll start an inventory if y’all will do the search.” The old man went to his trunk and pulled out his duty bag, a clipboard and reports. Starting with the purse, he inventoried it, finding over $10,000 in cash in the wallet, along with numerous credit cards, including one American Express Black card. When he showed it to Trooper Wilson, her only comment was, “Somebody in that family is a heavy hitter.”

  Hart searched the interior while Trooper Wilson searched the trunk, and came back whistling. “All new luggage, new clothes, both his and hers.” I found a receipt wadded up in the corner of the suitcase for $21,000 from Rodeo Drive. And I found these.” She held up two baggies that appeared to be cocaine, as Hart came back with a handful of items, including two empty baggies, two more bags of marijuana, a bag with an eight ball of cocaine and a pill bottle full of valium. He also laid down a rental car receipt from Hertz at Los Angeles airport, dated almost two weeks ago, with a due date of the previous Sunday, so the car was already five days overdue. Lastly, he laid a pair of stained panties on the hood saying, “Cruz said they have been screwing like rabbits every time they stop, so I’m betting this will confirm that. All he wants now is to call his family to come get him.”

  The old man said, “Thanks. The woman is totally uncooperative, wouldn’t you say, trooper?”

  Wilson chuckled. “Yeah, I’d say uncooperative pretty much nails it.”

  The wrecker pulled in front of the Mercedes, and as they were putting the inventoried items in evidence bags in the trunk, dispatch said, “Car 4, Car 212 wants to know about the status. He’s interviewed the owner of the Toyota. They are insured and are on their way to El Paso. The car is drivable but the driver’s side doors won’t open. Owner says they will get it fixed there.”

  “Dispatch, tell 212 I have the info. It’s a rental, no insurance accepted. Driver Missy Roland, age twenty-two, Fifth Avenue, New York City. No insurance card in her wallet. She’s DUI, among other things. Get their info and we’ll send them copies of Roland’s info.”

  “Roger car four. Will we be housing anyone tonight?”

  “Dispatch, oh yes. One male, one uncooperative female. Request to be met by a female jailer in fifteen at the back door.”

  “Car four Dispatch, copy all. You will be met.”

  By the time he’d gotten the radio traffic cleared, Hart had already directed the tow truck driver to hook up and take the car directly to impound. In the interest of keeping the two separated, he asked Wilson to bring the girl to his car. He got Yogi into the front seat, then buckled him in. As they went to put Roland in the back, Yogi started growling, and Roland started screaming and fighting to get away from the door. Wilson finally said, “I don’t think that’s fake. I think she’s deathly afraid of Yogi, and he obviously doesn’t like her. I’ll transport for you.”

  Frustrated, the old man replied, “Thanks, sorry to have to ask. And yeah, that is a strange response.” Wilson marched Roland back to her car, loaded her in, and followed Hart back down the ramp. The old man got in his car, unbuckled Yogi, and got him in the back seat. As he did so, he saw the remains of his burger and fries lying in the front floorboard. He cussed softly to himself, and just shook his head.

  Turning around, he dropped back down the ramp and headed to the sheriff’s office. Pulling into the parking lot, he brought Yogi into the office. He sat down, filling out the forms from the arrest and putting the inventory list into the system. Deputy Pena came in with the pictures and report from the truck stop, and the old man merged them into a single case file. As they were talking, the old man’s phone rang. Hitting speaker, he said, “Cronin.”

  “Captain, this is Hart. Can you come back to booking for a minute? Want you to verify the injuries to Miss Roland’s face occurred during the extraction from the car.”

  Grumbling, the old man walked back to booking. In the bright lights, he saw the sobbing Roland’s face was scratched up pretty well. She had a slight bleed from probably a rock that had been scraped across her forehead when she was fighting the old man and Trooper Wilson on the ground, along with a few other scrapes on her face and arms. He nodded to Hart and the booking sergeant. “Yep. She tried to fight getting out of the car, and then when Trooper Wilson did get her out, she continued to fight on the ground to keep from being cuffed. Shoot the booking photo as is. I’ve already documented the resisting arrest and will get a report from Trooper Wilson.”

  “Gimme a couple of hours, captain. I’ll drop it by before I go off shift tonight. If you don’t need anything else from me, I need to get back on patrol,” Trooper Wilson answered.

  The old man said, “Thanks. Now if y’all have everything under control, I was supposedly off four hours ago. Unless the world blows up, I’ll see y’all Monday.” With a wave, he headed back to his office, picked up Yogi and went outside to his car. He put Yogi in the back seat, hopped into the car and as he buckled up, he realized he was missing his Maglite. Cussing softly, he drove back to the on ramp, and pulled off where he saw the glass from the window he broke. Searching for a couple of minutes, he found the Maglite, and put it back in the car. Rather than back down the ramp or turn around, he went down to the next exit and back up the other side of I-10. Getting off at Highway 18, he drove slowly home with the windows down. As the old man pulled into the driveway, he looked at the darkened house and he shook his head sadly.

  Letting Yogi off the leash, the old man stood on the porch as Yogi ran around and did his business, then jumped up on the porch. Slowly, the old man opened the door and walked in, flipping lights on as he went. In the kitchen, he filled Yogi’s water and food dishes, and then looked for something to eat. Finding a chicken pot pie in the freezer, he threw it in the microwave and went into the office. Turning the computer on, he logged in as he waited for the microwave to beep. He found only one quick email from Jesse, and she said that Aaron had called and everything was going okay on deployment. He answered it and heard the microwave beep, so he shut the computer down and retrieved his dinner. Sitting at the table eating the potpie, he thought back over the years spent in the house and all the memories that went with the place.

  Finishing dinner, he dumped the remnants in the trash and walked from room to room, Yogi at his side. Touching pictures, straightening a couple of them, checking the rifles in the bedrooms and slowly turning off the lights as he went he made mental note to himself to pull all the rifles down tomorrow and give them a good cleaning.

  Yogi, sensing the old man’s mood, stayed close enough to brush against
the old man until he sat on the bed. When he did, Yogi laid his head on the old man’s leg and whined softly. “Yeah, Yogi, I’m not feeling real good tonight. I’m old and tired, and it seems like things are slipping away. Maybe a good night’s sleep will help.” Yogi whined again, and the old man ruffled his fur, then pushed him away. “You go to your bed, boy. I’m not that hard up for comfort.” It’s not like you can really protect me if they try again pup, that last one was pure luck they missed me and you both. It’s only a matter of time till they win. At least they won’t get Jesse. Guess that’s the bright spot.

  Undressing, the old man climbed slowly into bed and turned the light off.

  Court and Other Things

  Saturday morning court was not the way the old man wanted to start his day, but since he’d made the arrest on Friday night, he didn’t have much choice. Sitting off to the side of the courtroom and scanning his notes, he looked up when he heard a strong New York accent. He saw a youngish man with slicked back hair, a three-piece suit and a lawyer bag, as he thought of them, sit on the far side of the courtroom.

  Ed, the bailiff came through the side door and said, “All rise. County court for the County of Pecos is now in session. The honorable Judge Milton presiding. Please be seated.”

  Judge Milton wasted no time getting to it, as people were still taking their seats amid the rustle of noise. “Okay, morning ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this show on the road. Seems we have a few miscreants that have had the pleasure of our fine accommodations this weekend. Lawyers ready?” Getting nods around the room he continued, “Bailiff, bring in the first one, please.”

  Thanks to Ed, the old man knew his little problem child was the last one on the docket, so he continued reviewing his notes, and listened with half an ear to the proceedings as each person came in front of the judge and had their charges read and bail set.

  Ed and a deputy finally brought Roland in front of Judge Milton in an orange jumpsuit. The old man shook his head as he stepped to the rail, getting a nod from the judge. Judge Milton looked over his papers and asked, “Miss Roland, do you understand English?”