“Let’s drag our keys along their fender.”
“God, Jack, this isn’t a kid’s game. When you make a move, mean it, and make it amount to something. Saltz may just be hoping that a little steady pressure will make you quit and give up everything you know, but if he isn’t—if he means business—be ready to kill him, or to kill them and him. Don’t send messages, like he is doing with these three.”
“All right, Shooter. I get your point, but Saltz gets to me. I will have to do something about him sooner or later.”
“Fine. Make it later. We are here for pizza and that is all. Cripes I don’t want to get involved in your schoolyard battling.
“Now, your question was, ‘What do I do for a living,’ and I figure it is time to explain before you start training real hard for whatever it is you plan to do in Afghanistan.”
“Train? I don’t want to train, I … “
Galloway brought them to a halt beside the long-closed Presbyterian Church.
“Well, Blackwater, you had better start thinking in terms of superb physical condition if you hope to compete with a mob of primitive mountain men. Now that I think about it, I realize that you never actually had to fight in those mountains. Believe me, Jack, they can be, ah, rigorous.
“And Jack, you won’t be going over there for many months. There is paperwork to prepare. Remember you will have to be convincing as, well, whatever character we decide on.”
Galloway again paused, perhaps to consider.
“Jack, tell me why you are so damned set on shooting those tribesmen halfway across the world? You got away clean. You weren’t even engaged with them. Their bomb was addressed “To whom it may concern.” It did not get you, or for that matter, anyone you knew much of anything about.
“And, Jack, keep in mind that in your entire military career you have never even fired a shot at an enemy. You haven’t ever killed anyone. Why start now? And Jack, make your answer concise and succinct. Don’t wander like you usually do.”
Jack was short because the answers were simple and straightforward. “Those bodies the Sheik and his people pissed on were Americans, and they were my comrades even if I didn’t know them well. They need killing, and there is no one to do it but me.”
“Hell, Blackwater, there are millions of them exactly like that over there. Islam breeds them like flies on a dung heap. Beyond their families no one will even notice.”
“I’ll know, Galloway, and that is reason enough, but I’ve got more.
“There is that wooden box, Shooter. It must be dangerous to Saltz, the guy who sent us into such a mess. If it is not dangerous, then the box contents have to be really valuable. I intend to find out. And remember, I am, again, the only one who can locate the box.
“Hey, Shooter, if it is full of bearer bonds, I’ll cut you in, assuming you actually help me recover the thing.”
Galloway snorted. “Jack, you haven’t had any special scout training that I ever heard about. If I get you in, you will probably end up poking around on the wrong mountain. I will most likely have to come in to pick your one-footed skeleton out of the hundreds moldering in those hills. I think the whole idea is a waste of time.”
Galloway gave up on the subject.
“Oh hell, let’s talk about what I do to earn my daily bread. It will be a more pleasant conversation.”
Galloway gathered himself.
“When I was teaching up at the military school, I was approached by special men who offered me a position in an organization whose existence was to remain confidential. I would be part of a small team that traveled often on serious missions that could sometimes be dangerous. Missions varied and some would be team efforts while others would be all-alone jobs.
“The close friend of the business’s main man had grown too old to continue, and I was offered the chance to replace him at the Boss’s side, with astonishingly good pay and lots of special perks.
“Of course, I thought it over. I carefully weighed all of the probabilities for, oh, maybe an hour. Before I accepted.”
Blackwater Jack joined in Galloway’s laughter.
“There I was, Jack, a sort of shiftless character known mainly for shooting people in war and in civilian life, when out of nowhere comes the perfect kind of work for my limited abilities.
“Of course, I jumped at the chance, and believe me, pardner, I have never regretted a moment of it. When we get time, and you decide what you intend to do in this world, beyond obliterating some folks who never heard of you, I will enjoy telling you a lot more.”
Galloway paused, as if considering explaining further. Finally he shrugged resignedly and went on.
“The fact is, Jack, I married the boss’s daughter. The names are different for security reasons, but I admit with candor that when it was mentioned in passing that Jacque Mefford of TV fame was involved, I accelerated my decision to join up. I sure as shooting have never regretted that, either.”
Blackwater appeared shocked by the revelations.
“You did all of this without telling your lifelong friend any of it, beyond making us all envious of your beautiful lady?
“Well, Galloway, there is only one way you can make up for cutting me out, as if I had never been your faithful second banana since boyhood.
“For the moment, I have lost interest in Sheik shooting, and you have to reveal to me that your lovely wife, Jacque, has sisters. Tell me she isn’t an only child, and that the other remains unmarried.”
Shooter nodded slowly, as if unwilling to say more. “Well, Jack, the fact is that Mister, I will leave his name undisclosed for now, has two other daughters, both single and both … “
Jack stared as if disbelieving. “Are they . .?”
“As beautiful as my Jacque? Almost, but they are younger than I am, Blackwater. One is five years younger and the other four, I think.”
Galloway allowed himself to look blank and uncomprehending, before wondering aloud, “Why do you ask?’
Then as if it were just coming to him, he added, “Oh, you are thinking that you might interest them?
“Let’s see, you ride a motorcycle, you live in an old chicken coop, and you barely scraped through college. You have only one foot, and you intend bumming around the Middle East until you destroy a small village of hard working country folks.
“I do not see the appeal. Let’s move on.”
They did, but Shooter Galloway knew that Blackwater Jack was solidly hooked. Hooked enough to forget the Sheik and his helpers?
Not even close to that, Galloway recognized, but possibly enough to start his friend looking beyond his hoped for vengeance in a meaningful manner.
Would Blackwater become seriously interested in joining him in business? It was not all adventure and excitement.
Shooter would have to tell him more.
“Actually, Jack, we are just deliverymen. We carry messages and packages that are extremely secret in nature to important personages or companies that are sometimes even more closeted than are the materials we deliver.
“Our company does not advertise, and it is not listed. Our customers learn of us via personal referrals. We undertake what ordinary security services do not wish to risk.
“Occasionally, we become embroiled in, ah—extreme measures that require actions that some governments or other corporations consider unacceptable.
“Understand clearly that we do not handle narcotics or strangely named pharmaceuticals. We transport extremely valuable items that those involved do not want recorded anywhere. We pay barely tolerable insurance fees in case of failure, because in some cases, a single uninsured failure could bankrupt our entire organization.
“Incidentally, we have never failed, and we never expect to.
“You can sense that I am not speaking about dollar values in simple thousands, Jack. Sometimes, evildoers attempt to interfere. I did, for instance, carry a single sheet of paper to a destination that had my hand on my pistol for days at a time. Even following delivery
, I sweat every hour until I was far away and on firmer ground.
“Whew, that week I think I aged a full year. I suspect, amigo, that more than a little good luck was on my side that time.
“Now, most of our work is not that edgy, and most of it is not a matter of life and death or expectation of momentary assault, but, Jack, some is tense and gives living a bit of zip that, for me at least, leaves me more appreciative of the good times around me.
“For now, I’ll just leave it at that. I like what I do, and I expect that you might, as well.
“Just keep it in mind while you are watching where you step here in our peaceful US of A.”
Jack was slow in answering.
“I am sort of out of words for the moment, Gabe. I thought you might be some sort of US Marshal at Large—if there is such a thing, but, ‘Wow,’ is all I can manage for now.”
Blackwater Jack took a long moment to carefully examine all around them. Then he said, “Let’s put your job information on the back burner, Shooter.
“I need to concentrate on Saltz and his nasty people who are probably peering at us right now. I figure they will try to push me a little, and Shooter, I’ll tell you straight out, I’m not going to be crowded by small time Harrisburg hoods.
“Agreed? Then, for your edification, I may describe the pistol I intend to employ. You will be surprised and distressed. I will enjoy that conversation, I think.”
18
Two Weeks Later
When he pulled into The Curve restaurant, a half mile east of New Bloomfield boro, a following car whipped into the closer entrance of Juniata Lumber. Normal enough, ordinarily, but at this hour the lumberyard was closed. Hmmm, something to watch, Jack thought.
Jack took his time leaving his own vehicle, watching the stranger car in his rearview mirror and adjusting the Model 1911 pistol holstered on his right hip. Then, he used more time strolling to the restaurant door and pausing for a lengthy exchange with an acquaintance who always ate his supper at The Curve. No one left the dark colored automobile parked at the lumberyard. Threatening, Jack thought, to someone like himself who was watching for black-suited flatlanders.
He went inside and chose the only booth that allowed an angled look at the lumberyard parking lot. No movement observed. He ordered and relaxed to wait for food and probably for company he could do without.
Jack ate, ordered a hot fudge sundae for dessert and saw a second car pull in beside the first. They sat parallel for a long moment, then both started, and they rolled into the The Curve parking almost outside his window.
The cars emptied, and Jack felt his senses tighten. Three of the men he had already met. The fourth, who marched powerfully in charge to the restaurant’s entrance, only to stand aside while an underling opened the door for him, was new to this scene, but Blackwater Jack knew him well. Colonel Frank Saltz, Pennsylvania National Guard, retired, had arrived.
Jack drew his cocked and locked pistol and tucked it inside his right thigh. Barry Haight, one of his best pistol instructors had emphasized that shooting began before the pistol was drawn. In case the forthcoming confrontation turned bad, and despite men at a nearby table noting his pistol repositioning, Jack figured a head start could be good. Getting smoothly into action was what counted.
Furthermore, he shot both rifles and pistols more or less ambidextrously. Galloway had insisted on that skill way back when they plinked with their Hi Standard Twenty-Twos behind Old Dog’s barn. Jack expected that no notice would be taken of a left hand decorously kept below table level where a concealed right, shooting-hand, might be suspect.
It was nearly incomprehensible that there would be shooting in a public place with Saltz present, but, for this moment, Blackwater Jack took no unnecessary risks.
He kept his eyes on his dessert as Saltz seated himself opposite his chair. The waitress approached, but the Colonel waved her away saying only that he was visiting, not eating.
Then, Blackwater Jack made his eyes cold and raised them to meet the Colonel’s.
His voice was more chilled than his sight. Jack said, “That seat is reserved, Colonel, so make it short. What do you want up here in the sticks?”
Saltz flushed only slightly, and his voice was reserved but friendly.
“I’m sorry that we cannot meet as comrades from more difficult times, Corporal Carlisle, but we must speak, man-to-man on the only subject that lies between us.”
Jack allowed his voice to become hot and louder than normal. He let his eyes settle on Saltz’s three hired hands. “And why are those thugs siding you, Colonel? They do not look like comrades I would care to meet or serve with.”
Saltz laughed as if genuinely amused. “No, I doubt that you would enjoy meeting them, if the situation were serious.
“I sent them to your” … hesitation … “home months ago, but they inform me that you were discourteous and threatening. That was unfortunate, Corporal.”
“I am pleased that they understood how I feel, and I am surprised that you did not absorb the same message, Colonel.
“You are here to discover something, anything it would seem, about that damned box of yours that probably got burned up along with the Humvee and two wasted lives.”
Jack paused for a deep breath. He intended to impress more thoroughly on Saltz that he knew nothing about the box’s final destination.
Jack said, “You damned near got me killed trying to deliver a string-wrapped box containing, who-knows-what, to some towel head in a nameless town somewhere in the Afghanistan mountains.
“Now, Colonel, you knew then that we should not have been out alone in those mountains, but you sent us anyway. It cost a lieutenant and a non-com their lives. I lost a foot and barely got away.
“Here you are, still beating that dead horse. I told you then, and I will tell you now, I haven’t a clue as to what happened to your box, or anything else that was in the Humvee.
“Furthermore, I don’t care what happened to any of it.
“Finally, if I am seriously bothered by you or anyone else about that ‘incident,’ I am going to the Adjutant General and register more than a complaint, Colonel Saltz.
“I will howl until somebody appears to discover what in hell is going on. Then, I will accuse you of, well, everything I can think of.
“I’ll try smuggling, or maybe deliberately having us blown up for personal gain, or anything else I can dream up.
“I expect that this will be the last time you ambush me for the rest of my life, Colonel. Go away and stay away. If you don’t, I will answer in ways that will more than inconvenience you.
“And Colonel, keep those oh-so-scary thugs out of my sights as well.”
As Jack’s voice rose far above normal levels, the waitress and the few customers were frozen in their seats, but Saltz barely blinked.
His smile turned bitter and drum head stiff. He said, “I am not a man to anger, Blackwater—whatever your name is. We will meet again, and we will speak again, when I choose, and you will tell me what I wish to hear.”
He rose, and his goons stood with him.
“Remember, Corporal, you were offered peaceful settlement. It is unlikely that you will be again.”
Saltz departed, and Jack re-holstered his pistol. An acquaintance seated nearby said, “God damn, Jack, I thought you were going to shoot all of them. Who in hell are they?”
“Harrisburg trash is all, Jim. We should blow the bridges and keep them out of the county.”
Listeners agreed, and all of them would discuss and pass on what had almost happened at The Curve.
Good, the Harrisburg goons had attacked a Perry Countian. It would be remembered just as Jack hoped it would. Colonel Saltz or his minions would reappear, and The Curve testimony might come in handy somewhere along the line.
On the other hand, if he did end up challenging the Colonel, his loud displeasure would be remembered, which might re-direct undesired attention by law enforcement.
Perhaps he should avo
id public confrontations, but, damn, they were soul satisfying.
Months later
Galloway was adamant.
“Jack, that’s just jerking around, and what Saltz intends is not a joking matter or a situation to be clever and slick about. If you are going to go after Saltz, go after him. Don’t play games or try to be cute.
“Oh, don’t tell me how you just want to send him a message. This isn’t some friendly poker game where you will win or lose a meaningless pot. You will be sticking your nose inside his tent, and he won’t just slap your wrist. He might send people to carry you off and kill you.
“And you, Jack? You will probably still be sending messages. Geez, the Army should have taught you better, even if I couldn’t or Blackwater courses didn’t.”
“Shooter, I can’t just up and kill them, for God’s sake. That is great in some ‘B’ movie but I can’t secretly hide bodies in Perry County.”
Galloway was unrelenting. “But what makes you think that they can’t? If you piss them off, just for the sake of annoying them, they are most likely to step out of some dark spot and pump you full of buckshot. Then they will drive off and leave your bled-out corpse lying in the road.”
Blackwater was unimpressed. “Gabe, you are descriptive. Maybe you should write movie scripts, but Saltz won’t want me dead, yet. So I’m not worried about being shot down. What I do worry about are those thugs of his beating me half to death as their personal message. Have you thought about that, Galloway?”
“You’ve got a point, Jack, and I’m not suggesting you don’t blow them half way to hell and back, but don’t play games with them.
“If you pull a gun, kill all of them. That’s all I am saying.”
There was a pause before Shooter said, “Have you thought about going straight for Saltz? Put him out of service, and your worries are over.”
“Of course, I’ve thought of that, but if I succeeded, I wouldn’t be able to plead self-defense or anything else that anyone would believe. Saltz is a rich war hero in the eyes of the low-information public. That he may be involved in shady high-level dealings gives him an air of mystery.
The Making of Blackwater Jack Page 16
