by Matt James
Well, he thought, now isn’t that convenient.
The door lined up perfectly with Number Two’s head. Jack slammed the door shut on his assailant’s skull just as a resounding gong echoed from back in the kitchen. With his man down for the count, he rushed in and found Bull standing over his own man, who was comically wearing the large spaghetti pot on his head. Red sauce dripped down his neck and shirt, and he wasn’t moving.
“You good?” Jack asked, retrieving his firearm.
Bull replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He was breathing too hard to use his words.
“Well, I’m not!” Hawk cried, on his back like a helpless turtle.
“Hang in there, Filburt.”
“Oh, you can kiss the reddest part of my Indian ass!”
Bull gave Jack a look that said he didn’t understand the Rocko’s Modern Life reference. He waved him off, and, together, they helped Hawk. They tipped him upright, and Jack cut him free.
“Who the hell are these guys?” Jack asked.
“Friends of Creed, and his head of security, a psycho monster. He’s an ex-cop named Tom Zietz.”
“Zietz…” Bull had apparently heard of the man.
No time for that right now.
“Look, kid,” Jack said, “we don’t have a lot of time.” He kept his head on a swivel. There was no telling when any of these assholes would come to and be ready for another round.
Bull stepped up. “Where’s the letter?”
“Over there,” Hawk said, leaning around the two men.
“Where?” Jack asked, turning and facing the stove.
“In the teakettle.”
Jack and Bull turned in unison and said, “The teakettle?”
Hawk shrank away from the much bigger men. “I, uh, never use it. I don’t like tea…”
Bull retrieved the kettle.
Jack had to know. “Why have one, then?”
“It was mine,” Bull replied, lifting the lid. But there was no further explanation as to why Hawk had Bull’s teakettle.
Bull’s eyes widened at what he saw inside. With practiced patience, he procured a folded piece of weathered paper. He carefully flipped it open, looking up from it and nodding at Jack once he was finished reading it.
“We have it.”
Jack took in the state of the room. “Good, let’s get moving.”
Bull squeezed his nephew’s shoulder. “We should call the police.”
“Not from here,” Jack said, opening the fridge’s freezer door. “We can’t use our cells either.” He found what he was looking for and gave the bag of frozen vegetables to Hawk. He tipped his chin at Hawk. “They’ll know it was him.”
“He’s got a point,” Hawk said, placing the bag on the left side of his face. A bruise had already started to form. He relaxed but then excitedly said, “I know where we can use a phone!”
They hurried from the house and piled into Bull’s truck. Hawk wasn’t happy about leaving his home in its current state, but he understood why it needed to be done. It needed to look like a robbery had gone wrong. Bull’s four-door vehicle had plenty of room for them. Jack sat up front with his partner, and Hawk planted himself in the middle of the rear bench seat. It was the first time Jack was happy to see that a house didn’t possess a home security system. Once the cops arrived, it would be evident that Gavin and his men didn’t belong there. Forced entry was simple enough to spot—so was the destruction of property. It also helped that they were armed. No cameras meant that Jack, Bull, and Hawk couldn’t be placed at the scene during the ruckus.
The nearest public phone was at a corner store. Hawk knew the owner, and he said the stop would be quick. Still, it made Jack uncomfortable to sit idle with a houseful of maniacs barely a block away.
“Come on,” he muttered, watching the door. His leg bounced nervously.
Finally, Hawk exited the corner store. Jack was appalled to see that he had taken the time to buy a few things while he had been inside. Here they were, in the middle of a shadowy conflict, and this twenty-something thinks it’s okay to stop and shop.
Jack’s blood pressure was skyrocketing into orbit.
He planned out what he would say to him but instantly forgot why he was angry once Hawk opened the door. Along with the young man came the wafting scent of breakfast sausage and coffee. Jack spun around just as Hawk reached into a bag. In his hand was a greasy, nasty looking sandwich—and Jack couldn’t have been happier. He was starving.
He glanced at Hawk, then back to Bull. “He’s a good kid.”
Bull rolled his eyes and accepted a sandwich and cup of coffee. Jack went against his better judgment this time. The trio sat and ate. It didn’t take long—only a few minutes. By the end, Jack was comfortable and failing in his attempt to wipe the grease off his fingers.
“Wet nap?”
He gladly accepted the offer and properly cleaned his hands. It was time to get down to business.
“Tell me everything you know about this Zietz guy.”
Hawk nodded and leaned forward. “Big dude. Six-six or Six-seven. Thickly built too.”
“Work habits?”
“Uh, his work habits are that he likes to punch people.” Hawk’s face soured. “Nina included.”
“Does he have a family?”
Hawk shrugged. “I think so. He’s married, for sure, and I think he has a son.”
“Okay, good.”
“Oh, and something is going on with a group of out-of-town investors. It’s super hush-hush stuff. I think he owes them money. Creed’s been acting weird because of it.”
“How so?” Bull asked.
“He’s been more of a shut-in than usual. It’s like he’s afraid to leave the casino or something.”
Interesting…
Hawk took down his hair and retied his ponytail, sneering in disgust when he discovered a bit of spaghetti sauce on his scalp. “Why does all this matter?”
Bull spoke up. “Know thy enemy, right?”
Jack nodded. “Exactly.”
They sat in silence for a moment while Jack contemplated their next move. He still didn’t know enough about what was going on to make an accurate assumption about anything.
“Let me see the letter.”
Bull handed it over.
Carefully, Jack unfolded it and was, honestly, a little disappointed.
“This isn’t a letter,” he said, turning and looking back at Hawk. “It’s a note.”
The younger man shrugged. “Who gives a shit what it is? Besides, ‘Roosevelt’s Letter’ sounds a hell of a lot better than ‘Roosevelt’s Note.’”
“Where to?” Bull asked, moving the conversation along.
“How ’bout Devils Tower,” Hawk suggested.
Jack crumpled up his food wrapper. “Sounds like a plan.”
Devils Tower
Crook County, Wyoming
Jack, Bull, and Hawk stared straight up into the big, blue Wyoming sky. The majesty of Devils Tower sat twenty miles due west of Cascade. It was an incredible sight to behold in person. Jack was taken aback by how much bigger it was in person. It was the exact opposite of Mount Rushmore. Rushmore’s scale was so much smaller in real life.
“You’re climbing this thing?” Hawk asked, swallowing hard.
Jack shrugged. “Does a bear crap in the woods?”
He was already geared up and ready to go. Both he and Bull were experienced climbers. Because of the nature of their job, they always carried equipment with them. His check-in had gone smoothly after he flashed his ID. Being a park ranger had its perks in places like this. It also helped that the person checking him in was, likewise, a member of the NPS.
“Yellowstone, huh?” Tia asked.
“Yep,” Jack replied. He stuck a thumb out, motioning to Bull. “Him too.”
She glanced at Bull, who was standing back a bit with his thick arms crossed in front of his barrel chest.
The ranger eyed Hawk. “What about him?”
Jack
looked back and snorted out a laugh. “No chance.”
“Really?” Hawk said, hands out to his side. “You know I can hear you, right?”
“Okay, Mr. Reilly,” Tia explained, “average climb time is roughly six hours from start to finish.” She looked at her watch. “If you don’t dawdle, you should be back down here before dinner. Any questions?”
“Nope,” Jack replied. “Just going up to enjoy the view.”
Tia’s eyes could’ve said the same by the way she looked at Jack.
“Well then, have fun.”
Jack turned and headed back to the Durhams.
“Did she say six hours?” Hawk asked, mouth agape.
“Yep. Why? You have somewhere to be?”
“We’ll scout the area while you’re gone,” Bull clasped his partner’s hand. “Take care up there, Jack.”
He winked. “You know me…”
Bull squeezed his hand harder. “You’re right, I do.” Jack slapped the man’s meaty shoulder and headed off.
Jack hadn’t climbed anything like this in a couple of years. The weather was perfect for it, though. There was a cool breeze, and the cloud cover was minute. Also, he planned on using the most novice path available, the Durrance Route. They were in sort of a rush, and Jack was already sore as hell.
Jack Durrance and Harrison Butterworth had climbed Devils Tower back in 1938. At the time, it had been only the second such free ascent of the monument in modern history. The route was a simple one for experienced climbers, having been completed by an eighty-six-year-old man in 2017. Even from here, Jack could see the widely recognized leaning pillar at the base of the route. That’s where he would start his climb. He didn’t expect to find much at the summit, but it would be foolish to come here and not have a look.
Plus, he just really wanted to climb the thing.
Roosevelt’s letter had said that he had found something amazing, but it didn’t say much else. Jack seriously doubted that the president had scaled Devils Tower. Then again, if he had kept his findings a secret, then he might have summited the monument and not told anyone. If that were the case, then he would’ve done it thirty years earlier than Jack Durrance.
“What are you hiding, Teddy?”
6
Bull and Hawk did as they said they would do. As soon as Jack disappeared, they set off in search of anything. They had already circumferenced Devils Tower once, and yet, they still had another three hours to kill before meeting up with Jack. The man’s absence didn’t just give them enough time to search for an entrance into who-knows-where, it also allowed the Durham men to catch up in private.
“He seems pretty intense.”
“Jack?” Bull asked, stepping over a downed log. “You’ve met him before. He’s just Jack.”
“Which is a pretty intense guy.”
Bull thought about it for a second, then shrugged. To him, the retired soldier was a bit of a goofball, and not at all what Hawk saw him as. Maybe it’s because he really knew Jack, where most people didn’t.
“So,” Bull said, feeling awkward, “how’s Nina?”
Hawk stopped and looked at him. “You mean besides getting beaten up by my boss’ people?”
Bull turned and looked at him. “You know what I meant.”
Hawk let out a sigh and started walking again. “We’re doing good. She’s, uh, cleaned up her act a little too.”
“Why her, Chatan?”
“I’m not doing this right now, Uncle.”
“You could have anyone, and you choose someone like her. Why?”
“Because…” Hawk was angry and flustered, “Because she isn’t anyone else. She’s different. She’s unique. She’s—”
“A pain in the backside.”
Hawk stopped again. “Says the man who’s been alone his entire life.”
Bull paused his search and glanced over his shoulder. “I wasn’t always alone. I had you once upon a time.”
Turning around, Hawk growled. “I… Look. I don’t want to dig up the past right now. I left, and you know why. We have other, more pressing matters.” He faced his uncle. “Okay?”
Bull stood tall. “Agreed. Still, I miss what we had.”
As Hawk passed by his uncle, he slapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Bull, don’t get all misty-eyed on me.” He laughed. “So, he calls you, Bull?”
The larger man smiled. “Jack has a way with people.”
“I wouldn’t know. I barely know the guy, and you won’t tell me anything about him.”
So far, they had found very little. To their right was a picturesque thirty-foot-tall cliff face. Situated directly beneath it was a thicket of tightly packed shrubs. Hundreds of thousands of people explored the grounds surrounding Devils Tower over the years. Bull doubted they would find anything remarkable without getting extremely lucky.
He smiled. Sounds like Jack.
“What’s that about?” Hawk asked, pointing at his face.
Bull figured it couldn’t hurt to tell his nephew a little about his friend.
“Jack and I have been in a lot of interesting situations over the years since he joined the NPS.” They stopped and sat atop a large, flat boulder. “When I was told that I was going to get a new ranger to look after, I thought it was going to be a kid.” He rubbed his bald head. “Instead, I got Jack Reilly.”
“Please, Uncle, I just want to know more about what you all do every day.”
“Alright. Then, you need to know a little more about who Jack is as a person.” The joyful expression on his face turned sour. “The first thing you should know about him is that he suffers greatly.”
“Is he sick?”
Bull shook his head. “Not physically, no.” He tapped his temple. “He’s constantly in pain because of his past. He was in the military for the better part of his adult life and has seen more death than either you or I could imagine.” Bull’s eyes fell. “So much hate.” He looked up and found Hawk staring at him. “He watched a little boy blow himself up because he was too scared to go back to his father. Jack was injured in the blast.”
“Was he hurt bad?” Hawk asked, voice soft.
“Nothing that time couldn’t heal.” Bull stood. “But his mind was never the same. He doesn’t know this, but I’ve seen him at his worst. We’ve been forced to camp out in the park several times over the years. I’ve seen what happens to him in his sleep.”
Hawk also stood. “What happens?”
Bull held back a tear. Watching Jack thrash wildly in his sleep was one of the most upsetting things he had ever witnessed. Jack was a good person, and good people don’t deserve to go through such terrible experiences.
“Uncle?”
Bull blinked out of the memory. He looked at his nephew. “Jack is tortured by an evil he can’t fight.”
“Does he have any family?”
“None that I know of,” Bull replied. “He recently buried his grandmother, and his parents died in a plane crash when he was just a boy.”
“That’s so sad to hear.”
Bull and Hawk spun around to find that they weren’t alone. Twenty feet behind them stood a man of immense size. He was a giant, and unfortunately, someone Bull had heard plenty of stories about.
“Zietz,” he said, stepping in front of his nephew.
“You must be Tatanka Durham.” He grinned. “I see that you’ve reconnected with Baby Bird here.”
“It’s Hawk, asshole!” Bull put a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder, but the gesture got no reaction. “By the way,” Hawk continued, shoving away from him, “how’s ‘Gavin and the Spaghetti Duo?’ You visit those pieces of shit in prison yet?”
The young man’s threat, while impressive, considering the circumstances, was hollow, and Zietz knew it. If it were someone like Bull that had made the comment, he would’ve reacted with more than a laugh. He stepped toward the Durhams, loosening his tie as he walked. The brute stopped ten feet from Bull, never once taking his eyes off of him. Bull was a capable figh
ter, but not good enough for this opponent. Zietz wouldn’t be going down easy if things escalated into open conflict.
They needed Jack.
Zietz opened his coat, which spurred Bull into motion. Quickly, the usually nonthreatening Lakotan drew his pistol from his concealed shoulder holster and aimed it with steady hands. Zietz slowly retracted his hand from inside of his jacket. He didn’t look at all like someone afraid of being shot. Bull wasn’t planning on pulling the trigger, but if he was forced to do so, he would.
Zietz’s smile grew wider.
The expression concerned Bull. By the time he realized why, it was too late. Four masked men appeared with assault rifles jammed tightly into their shoulders. And they were not just regular citizens either. The speed at which they moved told him that they were trained personnel, possibly even paid-off police offices.
Dirty cops, Bull thought.
They quickly surrounded the Durhams. Smartly, Bull dropped his gun and raised his hands. Surprisingly, Hawk didn’t repeat the show of surrender. He stepped toward the much bigger man and shouted at him.
“Did you attack Nina?”
Zietz didn’t answer.
“Did you?”
Bigfoot strolled forward and leaned in close, now nose to nose with Hawk.
“I did,” he admitted, “right after she had one of her ‘meetings’ with Mr. Creed.”
Hawk roared and swung at Zietz. His fist connected with the man’s jaw and deflected off of it with no damage or reaction. It was as if Zietz hadn’t even noticed it. He stood straight and adjusted the collar of his jacket.
“Careful, boy.” His eyes hardened. “Unlike some, I follow through with my threats. Do that again, and you’ll lose your hand.” The four gunmen closed in around them. “Where is Roosevelt’s letter?”
Black Buffalo Resort and Casino
Cascade, Wyoming
“Sir,” the new girl, Lindsey, announced, “there’s a Mr. Taft on the line.”
