Now working on book 5, while I’m waiting on feedback from the beta readers on the MilSF novel…
A tease just to prove I really HAVE started writing it…
Prolog
Jesse Miller, now thirty, striking, trim and fit in jeans, boots and one of Aaron’s shirts and Felicia Carter, still small, petite and beautiful, dressed in a casual Spanish skirt and blouse sat on the front porch of the ranch house idly sipping ice tea as the kids and dogs played around their feet. The metronomic crack of rifles punctuated their conversation, but it was far enough away that the kids, other than Jace didn’t even notice it. Felicia sighed, “It’s hard to believe it’s been three years,” Yogi whined and Felicia looked down, “Esmerelda! Stop hitting the dog, please.”
Jesse laughed, “Poor Yogi and Boo Boo. Too many kids, too much going on.” Stretching, she smiled, “Yes, three good years. I’ve got Jace and Kaya, you’ve got Esme and Matt Junior. We’ve been lucky all the way around. Aaron’s loving the sheriff’s department, they seem to like him, Matt is doing a great job managing the ranch, you’ve been a great help keeping two sets of home fires burning and Papa’s about to retire.”
It was Felicia’s turn to laugh, “Well, some fires are easier than others to keep burning. I’m happy here. Matt’s happy too, although I wasn’t sure he would make it through the first year.”
“With Aaron’s retirement, then Matt coming right behind him, it wasn’t easy for either of them. And Matt trying to pick up all the subtleties of running a ranch from a cold start didn’t help. Papa spent a lot of time with him, and a lot of hours in the saddle.”
Felicia snickered, “Oh yes, the saddle sores. For the first month, he could hardly walk. His becoming a reserve deputy like you helped him though. It gave him something other than the ranch to focus on.”
“Kaya, stop hitting your brother. Esme, please stop hitting Boo Boo.” Matt Junior, lying in a donut between the two dogs gurgled happily and grabbed handfuls of fur from each dog, prompting both of them to start licking him. Both women shook their heads and started untangling the kids as the shooting stopped, punctuated by a loud, “Dammit!”
Jesse cocked her head, “Was that Matt or Aaron?”
Felicia blew hair out of the reach of Matt Junior and replied, “I think that was Aaron.”
“That means he lost, again. Well, let’s go get lunch on the table.”
***
John Cronin, now in his 70s and winding down his career with the Pecos County Sheriff’s Department, was still the lead investigator. He looked intently at Aaron and asked, “So, run that by me again. This all started at the border?”
Aaron stopped bouncing Jace on his lap, “Yep, he jumped the inspection station at Bouqillas, got ahead of the CBP Tahoe and, as usual, the Greenies at the park entrance were no help. They didn’t even close the gate like CBP asked, so he got on three eighty-five north, apparently hauling ass. Martinez from Brewster County tried to get position to stop him south of Marathon, but he got around him.”
Putting Jace down, he took another swig of iced tea, “Martinez got turned around, took up the chase and followed him through Marathon. Two other officers, not sure who, were coming from the west and the east on ninety, so this guy hooked it onto three eighty-five north again, and we got a call on Law-1 about a green late model Mustang, male Hispanic driving, heading north with a full pursuit behind him. I was in Sector Two and heading south already, Ortiz was about a mile behind me. Sergeant Wilson was ahead of me, but I didn’t know it. We were going to do stop sticks, until I heard Michelle out of the car with her set.”
The old man motioned, and Aaron continued, “So we set up a roadblock at Longfellow Road, pretty much got the entire road blocked for a change.”
Matt and Jessie snickered at that, knowing the area and how flat it was. Aaron looked at her with a hurt expression, “No, really, we did get it blocked.”
The old man growled, “Y’all shut up. I’m trying to get a sense of what happened here.”
Aaron cocked his head, “So, we’re set up, I hear Michelle say she got the strip down, and took out at least one tire. That was about a mile south of us. We could hear sirens coming at us, so we had some pacing.”
Sipping iced tea again, he glanced at Jesse then turned back to the old man, “We see the car come sliding around the curve out there, and slides to a stop. The guy pops off two rounds through the windshield at us, jumps out of the car and stands there with what looked like a chrome plated 1911 in his hand. Ortiz and I both had our carbines on him, but with Martinez, CBP and Michelle coming up behind him, we really didn’t have a shot.” He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed, “Martinez jumped out of his car, yelled at him to drop the weapon and prone out.”
The old man interrupted, “In English or Spanish?”
“Spanish. The guy didn’t and brought the pistol up pointing it at Martinez. He fired two rounds, center of mass and put the guy down.”
“So neither you nor Ortiz fired any rounds?”
“Nope, crossfire issue. Martinez had a clean shot as we were clear of his line of fire.”
Jesse reached across the table and squeezed Aaron’s hand as Matt shook his head, “Way too damn close, bro.”
Aaron shrugged, “Not like we haven’t been there before. I called for an ambulance, but we ended up cancelling it, ‘cause he was DRT. Sheriff Moyer showed up and said he’d already called the sheriff and they would take the case, even though it terminated in our county. We waited until Ranger Boone and his replacement got there, gave our statements and went back on patrol.”
The old man cocked his head, “Clay’s replacement? Yeah, I guess it’s that time. He’s officially retiring in two months. Who was the replacement?”
“Levi Michaels. He apparently was a Trooper sergeant down here.”
Nodding the old man replied, “Yep, good guy. Smart as a whip. He knows the area too, which is a bonus,” he thought for a second then continued, “Did any rounds hit either of our vehicles?”
“Not that we could find. Both Tahoes were clean,” Aaron leaned back, “Oh yeah, and he had twelve keys of heroin in the trunk of the Mustang.”
Jesse and Matt both whistled at that and Felicia looked up with a worried expression, “Why? Why would he?”
The old man rubbed his thumb and index finger together, “Money, Felicia, money. I’m betting he thought there would be a scraper there to get everybody distracted while he eased on through.” Turning back to Aaron he asked, “Anything else?”
Aaron shook his head, “Not that I can think of. Just another day at the office.”
***
Jesse and Felicia had gotten the kids down for naps and were cleaning up the remnants of lunch and washing dishes while the old man, Matt and Aaron sat at the table discussing the morning’s shooting.
Aaron mumbled something that Jesse didn’t hear, but the old man answered, “Old age and cunning beats young and idealistic every time.”
Matt laughed, but Aaron said ruefully, “I know, but dammit, I’m tired of getting beat every time we shoot. Hell, I’m thirty years younger than you are John, I should…”
“Maybe you should, but you haven’t shot out here for sixty years like I have. I know the wind, I know how to read it, and I know what my old mongrel of a rifle is going to do.”
Matt chimed in, “It’s different when you don’t have a spotter. Granted our rifles should be better than John’s, but that local course knowledge obviates any advantage we have through equipment or age.”
Aaron grumbled, “Shit Matt, we’ve been trained by the Marines in one of the toughest sniper courses there is, we’ve been in combat more than once. Dammit, we were a team for what, almost six years?”
Matt laughed, “Yep, and now we’re both retired and living in Texas, out where the wind blows free and the only thing slowing it down is a barbed wire fence in Montana.”
Aaron replied, “I know, but dammit, when my own wife outshoots me…”
The old man chuckled at that, “Well, she’s been shooting out here since she was little and she knows how to read the grass too.”
“Read the grass?”
Jesse dried her hands and stepped over to the coffee pot, “The grass out here will tell you what’s happening and, if you can see far enough, what’s about to happen.” Pouring a cup of coffee, she handed one to Felicia, then poured a second and sat down next to Aaron.
Felicia shook her head, “I don’t think I know of any other dining table that has these kinds of conversations over lunch.”
Matt cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
Felicia started counting, “Well, a traffic stop where Aaron gets shot at and a man dies, shooting rifles at what, a thousand yards today? I don’t know of too many people that have their own personal rifle and pistol ranges in their front yards.”
Jesse laughed, “Well, Marines… Duh!”
Felicia rolled her eyes, “I know, I know…” Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by one, then two babies crying and she and Jesse made for the back bedroom to check on the kids.
Aaron took the opportunity to quickly drop his pants and strip off the prosthetic, scratching the stump below the knee and sighing, “Oh damn, I hate getting that damn grass seed down in the sock. That shit itches like hell!”
The old man asked, “How bad is it?”
Aaron cocked his head, “Honestly, I don’t know how much of it is real and how much of it is phantom itching from the missing parts.”
Matt said, “What did Doc Truesdale say?”
“What I just said, partially psychosomatic, part real. Maybe it’s an allergy, and he gave me some cream to put on it. But he’s sending me back to Fort Sam for a consult on the fit. I’m about due for a new leg anyway.”
“What are you going to do about a new riding leg?”
Aaron shrugged, “I’ll figure something out. Eddie’s idea worked pretty well, and the one time I fell off Monday it worked good.”
Matt shook his head, “Yeah, that is one strange horse, butt ugly, hair sticking up everywhere, piebald, bucks you off, then nuzzles you.”
“In other words, Monday as in Monday morning…”
The old man laughed, “Well, that’s one way to name a horse.”
“Well, at least mine isn’t named Devil!”
“Diablo, not Devil.”
Aaron threw up his hands and Matt laughed, “Either or. That damn horse doesn’t like any of us guys. Well, I take that back, he likes Toad, right?”
The old man laughed, “Yeah, talk about babes in the woods around horses. Toad just ignored him, then popped him on the nose when Diablo lipped his hair. I thought sure as hell I’d be shooting Diablo to be able to get to the body in time to save him, but Diablo let him get away with it.”
Jesse came back in the kitchen carrying Kaya, “Remember when he reached across the fence and bit Uncle Billy’s pony tail?”
The old man smiled, “Yep, but I think that was payback for Billy teasing him with the carrots.”
Aaron said, Mr. Moore was teasing him with carrots?”
Jesse laughed, “Uncle Billy was on a health kick, he had a couple of carrots in his pocket and was munching on them as he wandered around outside. He didn’t know Diablo loves carrots. And I don’t think he knew Diablo was right behind him, following him down the corral fence either. He’d made a couple of tries to get a carrot, but Uncle Billy apparently didn’t notice him. Anyway, Diablo bit the hell out of Uncle Billy’s pony tail, took about four inches of it off, and put his butt on the ground.”
Everybody at the table laughed and the old man shook his head, “Yep, thought I was gonna have to hog tie Billy there for a while…
Lastly, one in ‘slightly’ worse shape…
