The Grey Man- Partners

by JL Curtis

Maurice grinned again, “What’s the matter Bobby boy? I gettin’ under yo skin?”

  Bob groaned, “Mo, you been getting under my skin for ten years now. One of these days I’m just gonna shoot your ass for the fun of it. I want to see if you can rap that crap with a bullet distracting you.”

  Mo glanced slyly at Duck, “Man, you got some good stuff in yo pouch? Cause I work better when I got a toke or two before it gets hot.”

  Duck shook his head and laughed, “Only if you get shot Mo, and maybe not even then.”

  Mo grinned, “You just holding me down man. Tryin’ to keep my ass on the farm.”

  Duck replied, “I hold your damn head underwater long enough, you’ll buy the farm.”

  The old man interrupted, “Alright, enough… He saw nods around the room, and pointed to Willie and Jeff, “You guys want to give me a hand?” He led them to a back bedroom and pointed out two large cases sitting there, “Y’all grab them and I’ll drag this one.” Heaving an orange case up on its rollers, he pulled it back into the living room, closely followed by Willie and Jeff.

  The soft babble of voices cut off as he opened the cases and handed out suppressed AR pattern rifles, and GI version 1911s with holsters. “We’ll be shooting these starting tomorrow morning; they’re in three hundred blackout. Plan on getting real familiar with them. As far as the pistols, they’ve all been tuned, and accurized. Novak night sights, new barrels, new springs and all that. Pistols will be backup weapons. Primary will be the suppressed rifles.”

  Maurice whistled, “I’ve seen some sheep dipped weaps over the years, but I’ve never seen one that had absolutely no markings. Where did you… Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Pulling the 1911 from its holster, he shook it experimentally, “Damn, it don’t rattle! Now I’m impressed!”

  Jeff, asked, “What round are we going to be using?”

  The old man replied, “Two-twenty grain Match Kings at ten-fifty. They should be good out to two hundred yards without too much fall off against anything short of level three body armor.”

  Bob smiled, “What time are we hitting the range? And where is it?”

  The old man said, “It’s on the property, about fifty yards behind the last house. It’s a quarry, and we will also be using the last house as a shoot house.”

  “Who’s going to RO?”

  “I am. Also, we’ll be cooking our own food out here, so we’ll rotate those duties, unless somebody volunteers?”

  Ron diffidently raised his hand, “Um, I can cook. I don’t do fancy, but I do edible.”

  The old man laughed, “Okay, one last thing, then we’ll call it a night. I want to do everything by numbers, so if somebody does overhear us, or spot us, there are no names or identification.” Opening the orange case, the old man took out brand new Motorola tactical radios with all the bells and whistles. Holding one up, he continued, “Everybody grab one of these and charge it overnight. Get it set up the way you like, just remember, earpieces and boom mics. No shoulder mics or open speakers. Starting in the morning we’ll be using them all day every day.”

  Bob looked at the old man, “KP?”

  “Number off first. I’ll be one.”

  Duck jumped in, “I’m numbah ten. I don’t buy them air conditioned Hondas.”

  After the snickers died down, everybody else picked numbers and the old man said, “We’ll rotate inside and outside responsibilities every day. Odd numbers have KP on odd days, while evens have perimeter security, range set up, and policing the exterior of the compound. Even days it’s reversed. Questions?”

  ***

  Four days later, he was happy with everyone’s shooting capabilities and the fact that nobody had done anything totally stupid in the training process at the quarry. But the old man was still unsure how to kill Maurice, now known as Mo, outright and solve all their continuing problems…

  He and Aaron had worked out the overwatch and spotter positions and responsibilities. They were now smooth and working well together, Huerta and Willie were working out as the first-in pair, with Spears and Ron going right, and Bob and Mo going left. Jeff was a wizard with an 870, quick-witted, very quiet and the logical one to be the breacher. That left Duck as security and foothold with Jeff, and used everyone.

  The problem was, well… Mo…

  He was that guy. The one that grated on everyone’s nerves. The other problem was, he was damn good! At least paired with Bob, he stayed pretty much under control, but paired with anyone else, it just didn’t work. Willie had to be physically restrained from knocking him out when they were partnered. But, Mo was also a wizard with explosives, as he’d claimed, and had come up with some novel breaching aids if they got locked doors or needed to breach pretty much anything else.

  Bob had pulled the old man aside at one point, sensing his frustration, “Captain, I know Mo’s an ass, but I’ve known him for ten years. We were teamed in Iraq, and when it comes down to it, he’s the man. It’s just when he’s not actively in combat, he lets his mouth overload his ass on occasion...”

  The old man grunted, “Like every damn time he opens it? I just don’t know who’s going to kill him first and how. About the only option that’s off the table is Colonel Mustard in the library with a candlestick.”

  Bob snorted, “Well, if we don’t do something soon, that may become the option…” Throwing up his hands, he continued, “Just put him with me and let it go at that. I’ll sit on him, Captain. I promise.”

  ***

  The following morning at breakfast, the old man tapped on his juice glass, “Two things today, one is we’ll do an actual breaching today. Two, our targets have landed in Puerto Barrios and are on the move. As soon as we know which road they are on, we’ll reposition to intercept them.”

  Huerta asked, “How will we reposition?”

  The old man replied, “We’ll have a Huey and pilots to do that.” Holding up his hand, he continued, “Don’t ask me where it’s coming from. Just don’t.”

  The old man and Aaron watched from where they would have been doing overwatch as the rest of the team hit the deserted hacienda. Other than the sound of Jeff’s breaching round, it appeared soundless from a hundred yards away. Four minutes later, Jeff waved and they trotted quickly down to the house.

  Everyone was pulling balaclavas off and mopping their faces, weapons hanging on their slings, as Mo bitched, “What MF put a damn baby toy in that mannequin’s hands? That shit ain’t fair!”

  The old man ignored him and walked through each room, noting that every target mannequin had two or three rounds in either the chest or the head and none of the hostage targets had any holes. He looked closely at the target mannequin Mo was complaining about, noting that three shots had split the bridge of the mannequin’s nose and never touched the baby held at neck level.

  Coming back to the entry hall, he sat on the stairs to the second floor. “Maurice, you did good. And for your information, I am the one that set that up. We don’t know what we may run into, and the real targets aren’t known for playing nice with anybody, much less women and babies. You may have to take that actual shot. If you don’t want to…”

  Mo slumped, “No, I’ll go. It’s just I gotta bitch cause I didn’t expect that. Comes down to it, I’ll shoot.”

  After a quick around the room for comments and any problems, the old man said, “We’ll leave here after dark. Mo, if you had to bring this house down, how would you do it?”

  Mo wandered around for a couple of minutes and came back, “I can drop it easy. Maybe a pound of Semtex and some det cord and I can make it flat on the ground. Question is, do you want it to burn?”

  The old man smiled, “How about dropped and burned with a remote detonator?”

  Mo grinned evilly, “Easy! Gimme an hour to put some stuff together.”

  ***

  Just after dark, a black Huey settled to the ground in the courtyard facing the main hacienda. The team, dressed in their black garb, balaclavas down, and weapons safed, climb
ed into the Huey with their backpacks. As the Huey lifted off, the old man handed the remote to Mo and yelled, “Do it!”

  Mo nodded, and hit the orange button. The hacienda appeared to glow through the windows for a second, then was lost in a cloud of smoke. The old man looked back one last time and could see flames licking up from where the hacienda had stood.

  An hour later, they landed deep in southern Mexico, and found two vans with keys in them and directions a safe house outside Palenque.

  Confluence

  Jesse walked out to the corral, deciding it was time to renew her acquaintance with Buttercup and Diablo, and check on her tack. She knew it probably needed cleaning or at least wiping down. Jace was occupied with following Ricky around as he cleaned up the bunkhouse, knowing Felix and Olivia were coming to dinner. I can’t believe it’s only been a little over three years since I got married and left here… It’s a time capsule! Except Papa looks… Looks like the old man he is. Sixty-seven, no sixty-eight. At least he’s getting the chance to see his great grandson, and know the Cronin name and genes will live on…

  After the last chewing out, Ricky knew his mother would check to make sure he was keeping the place clean. And Jace liked to help clean, even to the point that Jesse had cut down an old broom handle so he could sweep to his heart’s content.

  Jesse looked wistfully at the back gate, but dutifully turned into the barn. Pulling a carrot from her jacket, she clicked her tongue at Buttercup, who whinnied softly and turned around. She lipped the carrot from Jesse’s hand as Jesse rubbed her between the eyes, “Not today girl, but soon. I want to ride as much as you want out of that stall too.”

  Buttercup threw her head up, almost like she was agreeing and Jesse patted her nose gently. She turned and saw Diablo’s head sticking out of his stall, ears pricked, and she laughed, “You’re not getting ridden either, are you boy?”

  Diablo shook his mane, making Jesse smile as he gave him the other carrot she had in her pocket. Diablo crunched it quickly, whuffed, and lipped her hair as she rubbed his jaw. Sighing, she pulled away and walked back to the tack room.

  Pulling the door open, she flipped on the light and checked her saddle, resting on its storage rack. It was clean and had been recently soaped. She turned and pulled Buttercup’s bridle out of the bin, it had been done too!

  She checked on the other tack, only to see it was all clean and dressed too. Shaking her head, she remembered Toby and how much he hated the feel of saddle soap, and how hard it was to get him to clean the tack. Tears came unbidden as she rubbed her hand slowly over her saddle, the memory of the attack on the ranch surfacing in her mind.

  Jesse turned the horses out into the corral, just as Jace came running around the corner of the barn, followed by an exasperated Ricky, “I’m sorry Mizz Jesse, he snuck out the door on me!”

  Jesse laughed as Jace wrapped his arms around her leg and giggled, “Don’t worry about it Ricky, he does that to me too. Tiny human here,” She said as she caressed Jace’s hair, “is good when he wants to be, but he can be an escape artist too! I hope he didn’t make too big a mess.”

  Ricky grinned, “No, he actually helped, well, a little bit. He got under the bunks with his broom.”

  Jace let go of Jesse’s leg and bolted for the dogs lying by the steps as he tried to call Boo Boo and Yogi at the same time. Jesse replied, “I just put the horses out, thank you for doing the tack. It looks great!”

  Ricky blushed, “Mi padre always said if I was going to do something, do it right the first time. And he impressed on me how critical tack is, especially out on the range.”

  Jesse’s phone rang, and she said, “Excuse me, let me take this,” as she turned toward the house.

  ***

  Monday afternoon, Jesse dropped Jace off with Lucy for a trial run, to see how he would do with her. Olivia said, “I’ll keep an eye on them and see how it goes. Lucinda has been babysitting for about six months, and I think she’s getting pretty good with managing the kids. Why don’t you go shopping or get something to eat and come back in a couple of hours.”

  Jesse squatted in front of Jace saying, “Lucy is going to watch you for momma for a little while. You be good for her, okay?”

  Jace looked at her solemnly, then up at Lacy. Lucy offered Jace her hand, and he took it tentatively, then looked back at Jesse. Lucy asked, “Jace, want to play with toys?”

  Jace nodded, and Lucy led him into the living room. At the door, Jace looked back at Jesse and waved. Jesse sighed, “God I hate that, but I really need the help Olivia. I’m going back to work with the sheriff’s department starting Saturday. If Lucy is willing, I can probably use her every weekend, either Saturday or Sunday to watch him.”

  Olivia replied, “I think that will work. She’s more interested in making money right now than boys, or so she says. Ricky can bring her out, and bring her back home after she’s done. Did she tell you how much she wants?”

  “No, she never mentioned an amount. I was figuring five dollars an hour, if that was acceptable. And that would be from the time she leaves here, until she gets back. My shifts are normally eight hours, unless something happens. Then they would be longer, but I should know that ahead of time.”

  Olivia nodded, “That should work. And Lucy wants the work to earn the money.”

  ***

  Jesse had just gotten back to the house, got the dogs and Jace fed and dropped into a chair in the kitchen when her phone rang. Jesse fished it out, and punched the speaker, as Jace started crawling into her lap, “Hello, oof… Felicia, is that you?”

  She heard Felicia laugh, “Yes, it’s me and it sounds like Jace is giving you a workout!”

  Jace reached for the phone and giggled as Jesse pulled him back, “Oh yes, every day, all day! What’s up? You’re still coming, right?”

  There was a long pause and Felicia finally said, “Well, things have changed. I’m not sure…”

  “What? What happened Felicia? Are you…”

  Felicia replied, “Oh no, I’m fine! It’s Matt. He’s… He’s talking about retiring rather than taking the orders. Something about rules of… Something.”

  Jesse racked her brain for a second, “Rules of Engagement?”

  “Si, yes, Rules of Engagement. Matt doesn’t think he can lead his troops effectively under these new rules that are apparently classified and he’s not willing to put his troops, how did he say it, in harm’s way without being able to defend themselves.”

  Jesse shook her head, “That’s not good. If Matt is talking about leaving, err, retiring, it must be pretty damn bad. Matt is a hard core Marine.”

  Felicia said, “I know. He’s been upset about this for two days, and today he finally told me at lunch. But Matt doesn’t know what to do. Or what he wants to do.”

  Jesse asked, “Where are y’all talking about living? You’ve got your job there, but I know you want to have the baby here.”

  Felicia replied, “Matt says he will have enough, if we live cheaply, to move back to Texas. I don’t know if they will give me my job back after twelve weeks for family leave for the baby and Matt…”

  Jesse interrupted, “And Matt wants to make a decision now, and be settled before the baby is born, right?”

  Felicia sighed, “I think so.”

  Jace climbed down, and started playing with the dogs as Jesse leaned forward, “Wow, and you just got told today at lunch?”

  “Yes, he’s been trying to work this out himself, and come to me with answers, but all I have is questions he can’t or won’t answer.”

  Jesse winced, “I know that feeling. They are alpha males, used to being in control and having all the answers. And then they married us. That upset their whole world, because now they are having to deal with us.”

  Felicia laughed ruefully, “That is it exactly. Matt catches himself, and most of the time remembers to at least ask me before he goes charging off, but this time I think he is truly torn between duty to the Marines, and his honor and inte
grity as a man.”

  Jesse said, “My bet is on his personal honor and integrity. That is one thing both he and Aaron have in spades. And added to that is his desire to do right by you and the baby. What can I do to help?”

  Felicia replied, “Right now I don’t know Jesse. I don’t even know what to think. In my heart, I want to come back to Texas, but I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do for Matt and I. I just needed to talk to somebody and I didn’t know anybody else who might understand.”

  Jesse nodded to herself, “I understand, and I know I’m not a lot of help, but if there is anything I can do?”

  Felicia said, “I just needed to talk, I have to sit down with Matt and figure this out. Are you going to be home the next few days? I may need to call you for advice and options.”

  Jesse reflected on the fact that Felicia was almost ten years older than her, but said, “I will be, if you need to talk, call me anytime.”

  Felicia said, “Thank you, Jesse. That means a lot.”

  “Give Matt a hug for me. And call anytime, okay?”

  Felicia said softly, “I will. Thank you,” and hung up.

  ***

  Jesse spent the rest of the day wondering what Matt was going to do as she cleaned the house from one end to the other. After fixing a quick lunch for herself and Jace, she finally got him to go down for a nap.

  Taking a break, she let the dogs out and fired up the computer in the office. Pulling up the quarterly tax form, she looked at the spreadsheet and saw that there hadn’t been any entries in the last three weeks. Frustrated, she started looking for receipts she knew the old man had gotten and not entered.

  The first drawer was the filed receipts; the second was all the royalty statements. Pulling open the center drawer, she was stunned to see the old man’s credentials laying there. She looked at them like they were a snake, as he never went anywhere without his creds.

  Rocking back in the chair, her mind whirled with the implications. Looking up at the coat rack, his pistol belt hung there too. What the hell? Where… Why? Oh shit, Papa what are you doing? What did you drag Aaron into? Grabbing her phone, she dialed Aaron’s phone, only to hear it go to voicemail. The same with the old man’s phone.