The Veteran

Chapter Thirteen

With a dead body in the front seat, and blood splatter all over me, the front windshield, and on the seats, staying at the country store wasn't an option. I hadn't thought to check if anyone observed what I did. I had been sloppy. A quick visual sweep showed nobody around. Either no one had seen it, or they did and left. I wasn't sticking around to confirm the answer.

I pushed the body to the floorboard, pulled out of the parking lot and headed east. The GPS indicated I was about 12 miles from the farm, and with everyone in the safe room, I would take the opportunity to clean up the SUV on Diego's farm. I couldn't take it to a car wash, the nearest one about twenty miles away, and I had no way to dispose of the body. This one was on me. The .380 round hadn't penetrated all the way through the dead guy's skull, so blood splatter was my only worry. I didn't know if Diego was watching from the safe room, but I would need him to help me. I couldn't risk Mary or the boys seeing me drag a dead body from the SUV.

The drive to the farm was short, but I watched my speed to avoid any potential interruptions. I pulled down the long driveway and parked the SUV behind the house, leaving it running with the AC to keep the interior cool. The stench of his evacuated bowels, the result of violent death, permeated the interior of the SUV, making it difficult to breathe. It was a stench I would never adjust. I stepped from the SUV and walked around the house, scanning the tree line. Part of the bargain was for Global to remove the surveillance from the property. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Mr. Jones.

"Mr. Jones, I'm calling to verify that you've pulled your guys off the farm."

"Yes, Mr. Hunter. Our men have been recalled."

"Good, I'll be in touch."

I wasn't going to take him on his word alone and checked, as best I could, for any form of surveillance on the property. I couldn't find any. I walked to the barn and checked for supplies to aid me in disposing of the body. I found a tarp, some rope, a shovel, along with all the necessary cleaning supplies. Since Diego had to bury Mac, I wasn't surprised to find the stuff.

I had been right about Diego. He had been monitoring the cameras and exited the underground shelter after catching a glimpse of my bloody clothing.

"I sorta figured you'd come out first," I said.

"Well, as soon as you pulled in, one of the sensors went off, and I checked the monitors. I told Mary and them to stay put until we come and get them and I'm glad I did. They can't get out anyway without the unlock code. Oops," and he smiled, and then noticed my clothing, "Damn, amigo, what the hell happened to you?"

"We had a little issue when I met up with the Russians. Someone was taking potshots at us, and I managed to avoid getting shot this time. I saved Nataliy's life, even though I didn't mean to."

"Holy shit! How did that happen?"

"Two snipers, one killed the other and then started shooting at us. I tackled Nataliy on the way to the ground and accidentally saved his life. We bugged out in this SUV, and he's letting me use it. Apparently, he owes me a life debt now or some shit.

I opened the passenger door, "Give me a hand with this body. We need to dispose of it ASAP."

"Who is--or should I say--was he?"

"He was one of the guys shooting at us. Worked for Global. I had to take him out, and they're not happy with me, but I'm in tight with the Russians, which gives me a little leverage. I got more shit to tell you, but let's do this."

We had a little more time to spare, and with him helping, we were able to remove the body, wrap it in the tarp, clean out the SUV and wipe everything down with bleach. Diego even used armor-all through the inside of the SUV to remove the bleach smell. With an armored SUV at our disposal, my family's protection would be ensured. We drove the body to the far end of his field and disposed of it in a hole deep enough to keep scavengers away. We tossed a couple of logs on top of the grave, followed by leaves and dirt, leaving a minimal trace of our presence.

Now to tell Mary the new plan. This wasn't going to go over well, especially since I knew I couldn't leave much out.

We drove back to the farmhouse, and I went inside the house to change. Diego gave me ten minutes, and after I came back outside, he disposed of my bloody clothes, and then went down to the safe room and brought them out. The boys and Mary came running with Jake close behind. I had missed a few spots of blood, and they didn't escape Mary's keen eye. She asked about them right away.

"John?" as she wiped some of the blood from my cheek.

"Not mine, and you don't want the details."

"Ok. I'm glad you're back, alive, and safe.

She had tears in her eyes and hugged me, pulling me close. The boys ran and wrapped themselves around my legs. I picked them up, gave hugs and kisses, and put them down. All three were happy to see me. Frank and Jean, on the other hand, not so much. They never failed to disappoint me.

I leaned in close to her and whispered, "I need to talk to you and Diego. Some things have changed."

She turned to her parents, "Mom, please take the boys inside. John and I need to have a word."

At this point, her parents were on edge about our earlier confrontation and didn't hesitate to corral the boys, much to their protest, into the house. I motioned for Diego to join us and told them what happened, except shooting the guy in the SUV.

She wasn't happy. I had gone against everything I said about the Russians and decided to work for them.

"I thought you said the Russians weren't to be trusted, John."

"They aren't. Just because I'm going to do this doesn't mean I trust them. They owe me a huge favor, a life debt, which is much stronger than any favor I could do for them. This is one thing they don't mess around with. You save one of their lives, in this case, the head motherfucker in charge, and he is not going to forget what I did for him. He owes me big time and will ensure no one messes with us."

"What about Global? Don't they have a hold on you now?"

"Not so much. Let's be real about this. If either of the two groups wants us dead, they'll make it happy, but as of now, I'm in good with the Russian Mafia, and with Global. If they are exposed, holy hell will rain down on their heads. I need to play this game for a while, but here is the good news. We don't have to change our identities, we don't have to move, we don't have to do anything they wanted us to do, and you don't have to give up your family. There's only one problem."

I turned to glance at Diego.

"We don't have any place to go until the skinhead problem is resolved, which the Russians are working on. Global will also provide us with security, not to interfere with our lives, but will be available if we need them. They won't have surveillance on the farm anymore either."

Diego didn't even blink. "You have to stay here, amigo, and I won't take no for an answer. It's been nice having you around, plus, who's going to watch your ass?"

I pulled him close for a hug, knowing he hated it but did it anyway. "Thank you, my friend."

"Stop with the emotional shit, amigo. If you are going to be staying here, we have work to do. I have a room in the attic I haven't been using, but it needs to be cleaned out. We can set it up for the boys, and you and Mary can have the room they are in now. No offense, but the master bedroom is mine. We have to go to your home and get your stuff, assuming you still want it?"

Mary winced. We hadn't even talked about our home--our belongings--until Diego mentioned them.

"Diego, we have enough money to pay someone to pack up the house and move our stuff to either here or storage."

"Storage? Bullshit." Diego interrupted, "I have a huge warehouse with plenty of space. I could hold four households' worth of crap even with all my cars if I wanted to. We'll put it inside."

The moving problem was solved, but now we had to figure out how to arrange it. Movers wouldn't go into someone's house without someone to oversee the move.

"We'll do a power of attorney. I'll fly out to your place and handle it. I have been feeling a little cooped up and need to clear my head for a few days anyway. Problem solved. I have a notary who can swing by here tomorrow."

I nodded to Diego. "Good call, bro. What can I do around here while you're gone?"

"Nothing, besides keeping the place up and staying out of trouble. Don't make any moves until I return. I'll be gone a couple of days, long enough to fly there, arrange the movers, and fly back. I can't leave you alone for too long without you getting yourself into trouble," he said, smiling.

He was right. The last two weeks had proven if left to my own devices, shit was bound to hit the fan. I decided to take his advice this time and lay low.

The next morning, we prepared the paperwork and ran into town, where Diego rented a car for his trip to the airport, which was about 80 miles away in Des Moines. We decided it was best not to take one of his vehicles, to avoid any issues. Regardless of information Global or the Russians had, we weren't going to let our guard down. Our bank had a branch in town, so I deposited half of the $50,000 in Mary's and my joint account, went to another national bank and opened another account in my name only, depositing the remainder. I had saved over $300,000 in my IRA and had maxed out my contributions. The extra money we received would come in handy.

As I was pulling out of the bank, the satellite phone rang. "Hunter,"

"Mr. Hunter," it was Jones, "our courier is in route to your location and will arrive in about an hour. Please be prepared to sign the papers. Although not part of the non-standard contract, we have decided to include the shipment we mentioned the other day. It will arrive by commercial courier within the next 24 hours. They are some tools of the trade we believe are necessary for your success. We have also issued a credit card in your real name to be used for business expenses. As immediacy is no longer an issue, we will contact you after 72 hours. We recommend you take some family time before our operation begins. If you have any questions before then, you can reach us here," he said, rattling off a phone number, and then he hung up without waiting for a response. I punched the number into the phone and saved it.

It would take me thirty minutes to get home, and I still had one more errand. Mary and I had always been tight with our money, but with the recent influx of cash I decided to splurge a little and bought her a lovely necklace and earrings and something for the boys, as well. I was tempted to swing by the sporting goods store to look at guns, but I had more than I could use and would have more soon. Firepower wasn't going to be a problem.

The drive back to the farm was easy, no phone calls, no text messages, just a relaxed trip back. I pulled up to the house, and Mary stepped outside. I had arrived at lunch, and the boys and her parents were inside eating. She looked tired.

The last few weeks had been hard for everyone, especially her. She hadn't signed up for this kind of stress, and I would not have blamed her, although it would've devastated me, had she decided to leave me, but she didn't. She powered through all the BS, as she had done many times before.

I showed her the bank statements, and with little money spent, our balance showed over $60,000. That was the most money we had ever had in the bank, and she still had $20,000 in hers. I mentioned I opened a separate account, just in case. As long as our bills were paid, she hadn't stressed about money. When the bills weren't paid, or money was tight, she was a bear to deal with. Her primary concern was the boys' welfare, and she managed our money to make sure they had what they needed.

I left the gifts I had bought for the boys in the SUV and asked her to go for a walk with me. She still had a lot of questions, which I did my best to answer, but with the answers came more questions.

"John, you know how I like to know what's going on, right?"

"Yes, always the busybody." I smiled.

"I'm serious. I'm still scared and not knowing isn't helping. I understand what you've told me, but that doesn't make it any easier. This is something you are at least semi-comfortable with, but the boys will be asking questions. I need to tell them something and let's not forget about my parents."

"Look, I'm not as comfortable with this stuff as you might think. I can do this, but I'm having a hard time going back to it, and it is not the same as it was back then. Back then, I knew who the bad guys were. Back then, I always had backup and resources available. This time is different. I'm going to be working undercover with the Russians as a contractor for Global. I don't know a lot about either organization yet, but I'll have some help. I'll be on my own with the Russians, though. These guys are professional criminals, and although I don't like it, I'd rather be on their good side than on their bad side."

"I've been trying to wrap my head around the last two weeks, and to be honest, I'm really tired of thinking. I'm tired of the stress and how it's affecting us."

"I know how you're feeling. I know it's been rough, but it's going to get better."

"Do you? Do you really? Because I don't think you do. Every time you tell me it will, it doesn't, and it makes it hard to put my faith in you."

I was having a hard time coming up with a response, so I stayed silent.

"You're different now. We can all see it, whether you want to admit it or not. Hell, I thought you were going to go across the table at my dad, and not that he didn't deserve it, but God, John, that was violent and not like you. I have also seen how you're with Diego and when you're on the phone talking to those people. It's like there's another person inside you and you're an asshole when he comes out."

"You're right, and I don't like him much at the moment either, but he is the one who has kept us alive, and I can't flip a switch and turn him off. He's part of who I am. I didn't ever want you to see that side of me, but I can't put him back in the box he came out of. Not now."

"God damn it. You better find a way to keep that asshole in check around me, because as grateful as I am for you getting us out of this mess, you're still the one who put us in it. I can't let it go. In all seriousness, I still love you, but I do not like you much at the moment, and I sure as hell don't trust your word."

A knot in my stomach formed, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've put you through this. I'm sorry I've put the boys through this."

"Look, John. You need some help. You need to do something. We can't continue doing this crazy shit all the time with you being the way you are. I can't, and won't, put the boys through it. They've seen more than they should have."

I cringed at her harsh words, but she was right, and I wouldn't say anything to refute them. She was beginning to see what I saw every day. She was seeing the side of me I had tried so hard to keep buried in that little box deep inside me. This was going to take a long time, and maybe counseling services offered by Global might not be such a bad thing. All I could hope was she had enough faith in me to stick it out. I wasn't sure who the bigger fool was; her for believing in me, or me for thinking I could handle this. The days ahead wouldn't be easy.

"You're right, and I'll consider getting some counseling. I think it would benefit us."

She stared at me in disappointment. I had lost her trust over the last couple of weeks, and it wasn't going to be easy to get back.

"There's one more thing I need you to answer for me and no bullshit. Is there any possibility we can walk away from all this and go back to our normal boring lives?"

I wanted to tell her yes. I wanted to tell her everything could and would go back to normal. I wanted to give her the answer she wanted but I couldn't, and it was crushing me having to say those words to her. I had always delivered for her when she needed me, and now I was failing her.

"Mary, I wish it were that simple. If it were, I would've taken that option, and we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation."

She had known the answer, but I had to be honest with her. Anything less could end up getting us killed. I tried to take her hand in mind, but she pulled it back, and I could see the tears of anger, frustration, and fear welling in her eyes. She didn't say a word, held up both hands and walked away. I wanted to run after her but knew it would do no good. Right then, to her, the talk was cheap. Time and patience on my part, along with me staying true to word, would be the three things that could heal this rift. I had to earn her trust back.

As we made our way back to the house, a black SUV turned into the drive. Although I felt safer than I had in the past 24 hours, I still told Mary to go inside. I trotted to the barn and grabbed the SCAR. As the SUV approached, I raised the SCAR and pointed it at the driver. He stopped, put the SUV in park, held his hands up, and motioned toward the door, I nodded. He stepped from the vehicle with his hands still held high.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes, Mr. Hunter. I'm alone."

I kept the SCAR trained on him and stepped over him, reaching down to frisk him. He wasn't carrying any weapons. I approached the SUV and peeked inside, maintaining eye contact. He was telling the truth. I opened the passenger door and there was the package, which I assumed was for me.

"Is that my package?"

"Yes."

I pulled it from the front seat, tucking it under my arm, to keep aim on him. I told him to stand, tossed him the envelope and told him to open it. He didn't hesitate, which meant it wasn't a bomb, and peeled back the flap. He pulled out what I assumed was the contract, and reached inside his suit jacket, which made me nervous.

"Hold it right there!"

He stopped moving. "I'm reaching for my pen."

"Carefully, use your finger and your thumb only."

He pulled out the pen and contract and handed them to me. I leaned the SCAR up against the front bumper of the SUV and read the agreement. Not much about my "job" had changed, except the addition of the $100,000 bonus and certain leeway paragraphs which gave me a little more freedom in the decisions. There was no mention of identity changes, and I took the pen from him and signed the contract, but kept hold of it, "Where's the money?"

"It's in the back in a briefcase, Mr. Hunter. I'm supposed to give you the briefcase and deactivate and remove the tracking chip if we can proceed."

I put the contract on the hood and retrieved the SCAR. "Stay in front of the truck and don't move. I'll get the briefcase."

With him being on the business end of my SCAR, he realized I was serious. I opened the back of the SUV and found a standard Government Issue silver briefcase with a four-dial combination lock. I tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Combination," I demanded.

"I'm not allowed to give that out."

"That's fine, I'm going to shoot this briefcase if you don't give it to me, and then I'm going to shoot you or maybe the other way around. Your choice."

"7628" was his reply.

That's what I thought, asshole.

I opened the briefcase and inside were rows of stacked bills, and a pistol-looking hypodermic device that resembled the one they used to insert the chip in my arm. I wasn't stupid enough to try it myself, so I carried the briefcase to the front and handed him the hypo.

"Get it out of my arm."

"This may hurt. The extraction process is more painful than the insertion process."

I slung the SCAR over my shoulder, and pulled out my SIG, pointing it at his head, "If anything happens because of you taking this out, it'll be the last thing you do. Don't make me flinch."

He put the hypodermic to the inside of my left arm, felt for the tracker and squeezed. He was right. He cut into my bicep and seized the chip with a pair of forceps. He pulled, hitting every nerve on the way out. The extraction was excruciating, even more so than the insertion, and my eyes watered. I winced by the intrusion into my arm but kept the pistol trained on his head. I felt the chip leave my arm, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's out now. You might want to put some pressure to stop the bleeding."

"You can leave now. Tell Jones I'll be contacting him in a couple of days."

"There's a box in the back for you. You can look at it at your leisure."

He walked around to the back of the SUV and pulled out a military-style shipping crate. I told him to open it and inside were several weapons, including a few M4s, pistols, a shotgun, C4 plastic explosives with detonators, and door charges. I watched him grab the contract and hop into the SUV, as the blood dripped down my arm.

I'm too old for this shit!

He backed down the drive and left in a hurry. At least I no longer had to worry about them tracking me. I'd ask Diego to scan for bugs on everything later. I closed the case, dragged it to the barn. Diego would put it away.

I walked toward the house and saw Mary peering the window at me. She had seen the whole thing.

Damn!