Jewel of Hiram (The Chronicles of Crash Carter Book 1)

by Frank Felton

  He had a secret.

  ~~~

  So it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss. If you only know yourself, but not your opponent, you may win or may lose. If you know neither yourself nor your enemy, you will always endanger yourself. - Sun Tzu

  Being unseen is useful in just about any trade, not exclusive to warfare. Jack Welch might posit that business is warfare, but I assure you it is not. I’ve been there. Nonetheless, such attributes can be effectively employed by the up-and-comer; the man on the rise who wants to leave his mark in business. There are men who bet on the come line, who have the luxury of betting with shorter stacks against a more entrenched competitor. The man who operates with minimal overhead can many times out flank a larger and more risk-averse opponent.

  Those who are risk-averse only bet on sure things, exposing little, if any, in order to preserve what they have. The risk-taker brings a fight to his enemy, pushing him out of that comfort zone. In my first half hour with Hank, this is the general impression I got of his approach to business. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

  In the Bible, King David was a lowly errand boy before he ever became King. The Israelites faced down the Philistines in the Valley of Elah. For 40 days Goliath dared and mocked the Army of Israel to mano-y-mano combat, flaunting his sheer size to intimidate his opponents. Unable to find someone to accept the fight, King Saul offered a reward to any soldier who stepped forward; he offered the chance to become royalty.

  The young David answered this challenge. He was lightly armored and almost completely unseen prior to accepting the task of his king to face the mighty Goliath. He carried only his sling and five stones into combat. He was ridiculed incessantly as he came forth to confront the colossal warlord. While Goliath was not fully the giant as described by legend, he was indeed a fearsome foe, such as Achilles. Just as the Greek hero, Goliath had a distinct and unprotected weakness.

  David had only as much to lose as Goliath, but the potential upside for the boy was exponentially higher. He was unflinching in the face of certain death, which would prove lethal to his opponent on the battlefield. The centrifugal force applied by the sling gave rapid acceleration to the tiny object. With pinpoint accuracy, it penetrated Goliath’s unprotected flank to destroy a vital center.

  He directed one tiny stone into the exposed flesh of Goliath, felling him with a single payload. In an instant, a boy was transformed into a hero. Nearly the entire spectrum of military principles was demonstrated to perfection, as an entire army fell at the hands of one solitary stone. The scrawny boy went on to become one of the most legendary kings of all time.

  America, as a band of outcasts, pulled off the same stunt thousands of years later. American colonists squared off against the forces of a British dictator in the late 1700’s, facing a better trained and well-equipped military. Beginning with the Battle of Cowpens, the tide turned in favor of George Washington’s army leading to a domino-effect of defeats for the Brits. General Cornwallis was ultimately vanquished at Yorktown, and America was born, birthed from the tip of muskets of an entire nation of King Davids.

  Fifty years later, a subset of those colonists ventured to Texas and would unexpectedly outmaneuver a superior Mexican Army. It was an act of subversion against a government that sought to restrict liberty by centralizing control over the previously federated government construct. The Texans would have none of it, and Sam Houston ultimately annihilated the Mexican Army.

  The Texans’ new republic soon joined the United States. Despite an internal struggle for the nation’s soul during the Civil War, the mentality of the Americans did not change. Eighty years later, victory in World War II had yet to transform America from underdog to superpower. As an underdog, it should have come as no surprise that America would fiercely defend itself and bring every last full measure of devotion to the fight.

  After Pearl Harbor, such ferocity was moved to action. The sentiment of Admiral Yamamoto portrayed in a quote from a movie, which, while fabricated, was emblematic of the dire straits in which Japan would soon find itself: I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant.

  What he actually said was: “it is certain that, angered and outraged, he will soon launch a determined counterattack.” Nonetheless, the substance is the same. The Americans would soon plunge headlong into World War II, resulting in a great and tragic end to the Japanese Empire. The underdog Americans would press onward, marching forth to conquer the mighty warlords with unrelenting resolve.

  After World War II, America would no longer be an underdog. It would face down the Soviets in the Cold War, but engaged in a perennial string of defeats in numerous wars where being the frontrunner became a major liability. While tactically superior in every category, the strategic goals were rarely met.

  Korea and Vietnam became quagmires resulting in truce or outright defeat. Iraq and Afghanistan languished for a decade, even to this day, as protracted guerilla warfare inflicted a thousand small cuts in the armor of the most powerful military ever known. The common denominator in most cases was a lack of resolve by the political leadership and a disinterest by the citizenry. Such resolve will never exist unless there is a bona fide interest at stake which is embraced by the people.

  Hank Benson’s ancestors navigated the course of these battles, but none of them, save one, would be saddled with the weight of the duty placed onto his shoulders. The man sitting next to me is part of a fraternity, and I’m not talking about the Masons, or the Templar Knights, or any other group of men that have existed throughout history. You’ve never heard of this fraternity. Neither has Hank. Its membership is supremely elite. It is nobler than any in existence. At any time, two, and possibly three individuals even know of its existence.

  For the chosen few, it is an unwanted fate. It is a destiny of solitude, fraught with peril. The pressures of such duty are akin to the force which creates a diamond from a lump of coal. At 22 years old, Hank doesn’t have the slightest clue of what is in store for him, but I see it.

  It is what I’ve been looking for.

  ~~~

  Hank started right in on the questions. He was a bit overzealous and left no doubt this was a sales pitch to retain my services. I would find out later the cause of his aggressive pursuit. His business was set to expand exponentially. He could hardly contain his excitement, and was hiring men as quickly as possible.

  I would guess his age to be mid-20s, but I would find out later, of course, he was only 22. This was extremely young for a company owner, and had I not my own ulterior motive, I doubt I’d even consider this job. Still, he had the demeanor of a man in his 30s, and was doing his best to portray an intimidating and authoritarian figure.

  Honestly, I don’t think Hank gave a care in the world if he succeeded or failed. He was honing his chops as a businessman. There would be plenty of opportunity ahead even if this hire didn’t come to fruition. He wasn’t one to swing for a base hit. He aimed for the fences with every step to the plate, and a guy like that is bound to strike out many times in between home runs. This was his approach with me, with women, with his new venture, and with life itself.

  “So. Mr. McCormack. Can I just call you Mac?”

  “Sure. In fact, that’s what…”

  “How do you like working in that, no offense, in that crap-hole of Austin?” Hank interrupted.

  “Well, sir, it’s not too…”

  “Hold on a damn minute. You don’t have to call me Sir. Alright? Just don’t do it. Call me Hank for Christ’s sake.”

  “Okay, yes…..” I caught myself as I was about to say Sir once again.

  “I mean, will do, Hank.”

  “Good.”

  Hank took a sip of beer; “Now, you were saying?”

  “Well, I was saying, that, it’s not too bad, I guess, working in Austin. I’ve been promoted a couple times, have a good crew, and I enjoy the environment,” I replied.

  Hank took
a sip of his beer.

  “Not too bad, huh? You enjoy the environment? Sounds like the voice of a man looking for something better. How much they paying you anyway?”

  “Nothing worth bragging about. I got a decent pay raise when…”

  “You ever worked down in Chili Switch?”

  “Pardon, Chili Switch?”

  “Yeah, you know, San Antonio. Ever worked with the Guthries?”

  “No, afraid I haven’t.”

  “They call it Chili Switch, you know, because of all the wetbacks.”

  I’d come to expect direct verbiage from my construction crews, but was never that fond of it. Foul language was just something you accepted. But Hank didn’t have much of a filter. He just dove right in and let loose with both barrels. He continued:

  “Wouldn’t you rather be out here in God’s country than slaving away in a concrete jungle?”

  “I think, yes, I think I might.”

  “You know what they say about Austin don’t you? Nothing but steers and…”

  “You know, Hank, let me stop you right there. If you’re going to talk like a kid, then at least take that ring off.”

  Hank was aghast. So was I. I just blurted it out. I needed to draw a line. If there is one thing that gets my ire up, it’s a man that runs his mouth recklessly. I continued:

  “You are a Mason, I presume. Well you ought to know that many years ago a man named Euclid admonished the Egyptians that they should live in harmony with their fellow man, and not call them knave or servant or anything foul.”

  Hank sat back in his chair, his demeanor changed as he glared at me through suddenly suspicious eyes, yet a coy smile formed at the corner of his lips. He was intrigued. In that moment, Hank knew he’d move heaven itself to hire me, yet that subtle clue was all he’d let slip. It was enough indication for me. Check mate.

  “What are you, a damn scientist?”

  “No.”

  “Who the hell is Euclid?”

  “He was an early figure in the foundation of Masonry.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Look, I’m just not much into the blasphemy, swearing, and name-calling. It’s a personal thing. We’re men. We’re leaders. We should walk and act uprightly.”

  “Alright. Touche’.”

  “Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree.”

  “No, no, now, don’t get all uppity. I’m just, you know, making conversation.”

  I pushed my chair back from the table. Hank cut me off.

  “Hold on a damn minute. Just hold on.”

  He pulled his chair up, closer to the table, and sat upright.

  “I got it. Look, I know I come off a bit crude. I don’t mean too. Let’s cut through the bullshit.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we start over then,” I replied.

  “I’ve asked around about you. I like what I see. I need a man like you in my outfit.”

  “What are you pitching?”

  “I want you to come on down to Thorndale. I’ll pay you half again what your making now.”

  “That’s awfully rich. Sure you can afford it?”

  “That’s a fact. Don’t you worry about the pay. I’m up to my ears in business, I just need the manpower.”

  “Well, alright. But first, there are a few questions I have of my own.”

  “Alright. Shoot.”

  Hank was accustomed to doing everything himself. He carried a massive chip on his shoulder. I soon realized his rugged demeanor was no more than a poorly disguised defense mechanism. It was his way to cope in a world where he felt abandoned by everyone around him, except for his tight knit group of friends. No one got into his inner circle unless they thought and acted like him, but once disarmed, he was a fairly likable creature.

  We cut to the heart of the matter. It was apparent to me that Hank liked to be in control. He liked to assert himself. On the other hand, so did I. I was not one to be pushed around. Hank was not accustomed to being challenged; but he relished it. He needed men with strong backbones for his company. More importantly, he needed men he could trust, and who would tell him the truth.

  “How does a guy as young as you come to own his own company?” I asked.

  Hank pondered the question for a moment, as he readied his reply. He crossed his hands on the table, and delivered his answer.

  “Simple. My parents died young and my grandpa raised me. Put me to work in the cotton fields. I got sick of that, dropped out of school, and started work as a truck driver when I’m 15. I learned the construction business from the bottom up. Then grandpa died when I’m 17. I inherited a big chunk of land. That’s when the fun started.”

  He paused for a moment, with a chuckle. It was one of those laughs intended to mask something painful. I sensed a change in his mood; it was beginning to darken.

  “You grow up quick when every relative you know tries to sue your ass to steal it away, all in the name of their own greed. Most kids 17 are out doing, I don’t know, whatever they do, but me, I had to learn the legal system before I’m old enough to vote. Every guy I looked up to got shipped off to the war. Most of ‘em never came home.”

  Hank took a drink of his Lone Star, and lit a cigarette. He breathed in, and let loose a plume of smoke. His eyes gazed down at the table. There was a passion in his eyes. Discussing this story opened a fresh wound. His early life was marked with tragedy; his parents died, then his grandfather, and many of his friends and mentors never returned from Europe or the Pacific in World War II. It’s not hard to fathom just how much of a mental stigma death places on someone at that age.

  “I’m not an arrogant prick like everyone says, you know. I’ve been meaning to change, but hey, just never got around to it.”

  “Understood,” I replied.

  “I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I just am who I am. And I did what I had to do.”

  He looked up, and stared directly into my eyes. His mouth quivered. Hank was visibly agitated. I feared I unwittingly opened up a Pandora’s Box. What he had to do had all the hallmarks of something darker. I ventured he was not going to speak of those things to me; at least not yet.

  “They threw the first punch. They got what they deserved. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  I was somewhat startled, but in an instant, he switched gears, as if nothing odd had transpired. He went right back to being an obnoxious windbag without missing a beat.

  “Anyway, construction just came easy to me. These sons ‘a bitches I was working for didn’t have sense to pour piss out of a boot. I was young, and a bit reckless; one night after about six shots of whiskey, I mouthed off to my boss about how I could run the operation better than him. He didn’t like it. He fired my ass on the spot.”

  I was still trying to figure out his previous comments, but he was well past it.

  “I told him to take that job and stick it up his ass. The whiskey had me fired up, much as anything, but it’d been a long time a comin’. I vowed right then and there I would start my own company and run him out of business.”

  Hank took another long puff on his cancer stick, and drained his bottle of beer, setting it down with a loud thud, which perked up the ears of Elmo. Hank held the bottle up over his head, and yelled at Elmo.

  “Yo! Believe I’ll have another. And one for my friend.”

  “That’s okay Hank. I’m fine. Gotta drive home tonight,” I replied.

  “Bullshit! You’ll have another. I’m not drinking alone.”

  “Alright, one more.”

  “That’s how you become an alcoholic, you know. Drinking alone.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Elmo had two cold beers over to the table right soon. It was the quickest I’d seen him move, which isn’t saying much.

  “So, Hank, you started your own company then?”

  “Yes. Went down to the bank and got Mr. Clement to loan me 20,000 dollars against my land. Bought me a truck and went into business. I undercut every sumbitch out there. Live
d off peanuts and Nehi Red for awhile, but I eventually ran them out of town. Once I broke ‘em, I bought another truck, then another, so on and so forth. Before you know it, I had seven drivers and a fleet of rigs. Then bought a backhoe and started bidding on road work. That’s all I wanted to do. Worked 16 hours a day. I just had, I don’t know, this insatiable appetite to go out and conquer.”

  “I must say, that’s impressive, especially for, no offense, but someone so young,” I replied.

  “Well, people never gave me much of a chance. That made it even easier. They never gave me a second thought, and I never looked back. After a while, everything I touched turned to money. I honestly think maybe I’m just protected by the hand of God, or something.”

  Hank turned his attention back his beer, his eyes peering deeply into the dark bottle. His smile widened, as he took a drink. He couldn’t hide his emotions very well, and even less after a few beers. I could tell there was something else he was thinking, something he just could not wait to get off his chest.

  “I’ll tell you something else, Mac. Come here.”

  Hank leaned in close, and motioned with his finger for me to move in.

  “There’s a whole shitload of money about to come to this town.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I’m serious. Piles of it. You come aboard, and you and me, we’re gonna grab as much of it as we can.”

  “And how do you know this?”

  “It’s a secret. But God as my witness, it’s coming.”

  Hank had yet another secret; one that I’d soon know.

  I had only known the man for an hour, but I already knew I wanted into his circle. I had a gut feeling that this was the right thing to do. Getting through his defenses would not be easy. This was a man who’d fought off the devil himself, it would seem, and was constantly on guard against the approach of cowans and eavesdroppers.

  Hank had no family. He was an orphan in the world, but hell-bent on making his presence known. The only real family he had was a short list of friends of which I’d soon be. It was an inner circle that few would enter, and none would ever leave.