AM/PM Gas Station

Exit 88, Grand Mound, Washington

United States of America

09 August, 1986

2335 Hours

        I'd showed up early. At a quarter tank the truck needed gas, and thanks to the large volume tank, it took me nearly a twenty to fill up on $0.85 a gallon gas. At least the 10 gallon auxilary was full. Harvey and Glendan were sitting on the tailgate the truck, where I was parked by a low stone wall that separated the AM/PM parking lot from a narrow field. Beyond that field was Highway 12 West, which led from Grand Mound to Rochester and then Oakville. A logging truck went by, the brakes clattering as the truck slowed. I took a big bite of the AM/PM burger, the flat little bun, soggy pickles, bulk ketchup and mustard, and the pre-cooked, reheated flat chewy hamburger all combining into one pretty distinctive package.

        To be honest, I liked AM/PM hamburgers, but then I was one of those weirdos who liked food sold at road-side stalls and the like. They always tasted the best. John and Nancy always made fun of me for it, but they'd known me for years, and knew that if someone had a little stall at the side of the road when I was walking back from the bar I'd have to stop there for food. Hey, if nothing else it gave me something to throw up instead of dry heaving.

        The night was probably cool to Glendan and Harvey, but to me it was still warm, and I was still sweaty. I probably should have taken off my flannel shirt, but the protection it offered me was necessary. Both of my forearms were bandaged from bites and a knife cut, but that wasn't anything new. My ribs had stopped hurting, right on schedule. Good diet and exersize was why I healed up so quick.

        Bugs were moving around the lights, crickets were chirping, and I could hear the odd car now and then on I-5, which was less than two hundred meters away. The lizard had mapped everything, telling me where everything was, how it could be useful if everything went to shit, including identifying possible sniper locations as well as where to take cover depending on where the shots came from.

        Atlas taught me to half expect a bullet to go by my head at any second, following by the retort and mocking laughter over a megaphone from the East German commander. Oh, I didn't begrudge them their entertainment, it was what was allowed to them by their RoE, as well as within their instructions to harass us at any opportunity. It kind of felt weird to know that nobody would be putting a bullet by my head, but at the same time knowing that sooner or later someone was going to try to take me out. I wondered if I'd even hear the shot or if there would just be a bright flash and then nothing.

        A big International Travel-All, a three bench seat and full bed monster, pulled into the AM-PM, parking next to the building. The rumble of the engine and the bright red color attracted the attention of Glendan and Harvey, where the plates attracted mine.

        Three men and a woman got out, two of the men getting out of the middle bench seat. All three men were over six feet tall and solidly built, with close cropped blonde hair under their cowboy hats.

        "Jesus, look at the size of them." Harvey said quietly, obviously not wanting to attract attention.

        The shortest of the three big men looked around slowly, taking in his surroundings fully. He nodded at the two men, waving toward us.

        "Oh, shit, what do they want?" Glendan asked, shifting uncomfortably and looking for a place to set down his burrito.

        "Christ, look at the chick." Harvey said.

        The woman that had gotten out was wearing Levi's, an AC/DC T-shirt, and combat boots. Her hair was brown and pulled back in a short ponytail. She was frowning as she looked around the same way as the big cowboy, surveying everything and figuring out where everything was.

        "Damn, those are some big titties." Glendan said.

        DD's to be exact.

        The woman stepped forward, staying just to the right and behind the shortest of the cowboys, the other two dropping back. When she stepped into the light, the scar down the side of her face was plain as day.

        "That's a big scar." Harvey said softly. He obviously didn't want her to hear.

        When the foursome was only three steps away I jumped off the tailgate, stuffing the last of my hamburger into my mouth and tossing the wrapper in the bed.

        Harvey and Glendan got off the tailgate nervously.

        "I don't know about this, Ant." Harvey said.

        "Hey, babe." Nancy said, taking two steps forward and hugging me. I melted into her arms, letting that softness over hard muscle built through endless hours of hard labor comfort me. She rubbed the small of my back before kissing me gently. "I've missed you." I just made a 'hmmm' noise as I hugged back and inhaled the scent of her, of her hair. I'd needed her, missed her, and craved her like a drug.

        She tilted her crotch against mine. "You feed this thing while I've been gone?" She grinned when she pulled back slightly, her arms still around my waist.

        "Aine's mother." I smiled at her.

        That made the shortest Texan laugh. "Goddamn, Ant, we can't leave you alone for a single day without you getting in trouble."

        Nancy let go of me and I hugged John close. He hugged back, and I felt much better when we broke the clinch and stepped back.

        "This him?" One of the Texans asked. His accent was thicker than John's. His voice was a bass rumble.

        "Yup." John said.

        The guy grabbed me, squeezing tight then letting go. "Thanks for keeping him alive. He never could stay out of trouble." John's brother was at least two inches taller than John was. John was the shortest, the one who had hugged me the tallest. The Bomber family bred big boys for Texas, that was for goddamn sure.

        That made me grin. I turned and pointed at the two McCullen boys. "Glendan McCullen and Harvey McCullen." I said. John nodded, looking grim, and Nancy gave a low listen. "You two, the Bomber boys and Nancy Nagle."

        "Luke." The one who hugged me said, holding his hand out. Glendan and Harvey shook his head.

        "Zane." The other said.

        "John." My friend said.

        Nancy just nodded at them when I introduced her, her face blank and her eyes hard.

        "You boys get acquainted, Ant and us are gonna have a bit of a talk." Bomber said, taking my arm. Nancy took the other one, and we walked over the John's big truck.

        "How is she?" I asked.

        "Someone beat her ass." John said. "Busted her up pretty bad. It was sadistic, probably took awhile." He shook his head. "Might have been an amateur trying to beat her death, or it was a pro just hurting her as much as they could without killing her." Both of them were holding on tight to my arms.

        Nancy socked him the shoulder, then rubbed my arm. "Broken orbital socket, nose, and jaw." She told me, her voice dispassionate and clipped. "Nine broken ribs, three of them in multiple places. Her thumb and index finger are broken on her right hand, looks like she got her hand stomped. One of her lungs was collapsed when they brought her in. She had a ruptured spleen, which they removed this afternoon." She sighed, holding tight to my arm. "They're going back in tomorrow. I can tell from her vitals and what's going on with her chart that her liver is damaged." She squeezed gently. "She's going to be all right."

        "How do you know?" I asked, my voice harsher than I meant it to be.

        Neither of my friends took offense. They knew me.

        "She opened her eyes about a half hour ago." Nancy said gently. "She was awake, but her meds put her back under." She squeezed my arm again. "Don't go off half-cocked, Ant. You need to be in control."

        The lizard helped me, shutting everything down but what I needed to keep going, turning off the memories of Niamh taking care of me when I was little, of her putting frozen peas on black eyes or washing the blood off my face with a warm soft towel.

        Nancy and John watched it without saying something, John letting go of my arm when the trickle of cool wet fire ran down my spine.

        "There you go, brother, lock it down." He said.

        Another deep breath and I was back to where I needed to be.

...a meat machine made for killing. twisted steel and sex appeal. all the ladies love a killer...

        "Your father called my house in Texas, left a message. Listened to it when we got to my house before we headed out to here." John said as we started walking back over to the other four men. I looked at him and he kept going. "Said he's gonna get here as soon as possible, but he's got a bit to go."

        "Give me the exact words."

        "Enroute when exfiltrated. Time and distance difficulties. Ongoing operations. High level of confidence and trust. Nothing follows." Nancy said softly. "Then he was silent for a moment so we could hear the clicks and the other noise on the line before he hung up. It was a sat-phone."

        That meant he was actually outside the country, engaged in some kind of Special Operations Group havoc and was having trouble getting loose to come back. I knew him, we all knew him, all of his children, and he wouldn't leave in the middle of an operation. That would risk lives, and he knew that other people's sons were just as important to them as his own were to him.

        Nancy reached down, intertwining her fingers with mine. The contrast between her hand and Briana's struck me immediately. Nancy's hand was weirdly flattened, hard feeling, with calluses from the hours of work. Warm, strong, and made me feel safe. It was a far cry from Briana's soft hands.

        "I missed you." Nancy said gently, squeezing my hand. "Splitting up didn't feel right. It left a hole."

        John nodded. "I'm glad we're here. You shouldn't have come here without backup."

        "I've been a little obvious today and yesterday." I told them. "Everyone thinks I'm here alone."

        "And that you've teamed up with the McCullens because you didn't have any choice." John nodded. "Smart. Your families have a lot of bad blood in the older generations, Lord knows Aine and you have talked about it. They probably figured it wouldn't take much to get your McCullen allies to turn on you."

        We were nearing the truck. Luke was telling Glendan a story about how John once tried to build a raft to float down the river on the ranch he lived on and ended up almost drowning and swallowed a tadpole. All four of them laughed uproariously when we stopped.

        "So what's the plan, Tony?" Glendan asked me.

        "Glendan, you're going to ride with Luke and Zane, show them where I'm staying. Harvey, you'll follow them in your truck." I said, pointing at the vehicles in turn. "John, you and Nancy and me are going to go by the hospital, then head back to meet up with them."

        They all nodded.

        "Can you convince him to at least take a goddamn rifle?" Harvey asked. "All he's got is a fucking knife."

        Bomber shook his head while Nancy laughed.

        "Ant sucks with a rifle." Nancy said gently. "He's better with a pistol or a knife. With a rifle he's a menace, but with that knife he'll kill everyone that gets near him. He sure as shit did for the motherfuckers he shanked this winter."

        Both the McCullen boys looked shocked.

        "If they're dumb enough to let him get within two steps with their weapons in their hands and they're dead every time." Bomber said. "If it's still in the holster, they'll be dead if he's within five steps."

 When the McCullen brothers looked skeptical Bomber shrugged. "FBI and DoD statistics and tests show that if a man with a knife in his hand is closer than 21 feet from a man with a pistol in his holster then the man with the pistol dies."

        "Jesus." Harvey said softly, looking at me. I could see that he was suddenly re-evaluating everything he'd figured he knew about me. Glendan didn't say anything, his expression and his thought shielded.

        "Twisted steel and sex appeal, all the ladies love a killer." Nancy laughed. "Special Weapons all the way."

        "Anything else, Johnny?" Luke asked, picking his hat up off the tailgate. He nodded to me. "Nice truck."

        "Nope. We'll meet up, take stock of our assets, come up with an op-plan." John said.

        "Right." Zane said. The two Bomber boys headed toward the International, Glendan following. Harvey went over to his truck and climbed in. Both vehicles started and they pulled around the AM/PM building before pulling out on Highway 99 and heading south toward Centralia.

        "OK, what are we going to do?" Nancy asked. I looked at her, frowning, and John laughed right before she spoke. "We've been working together two years, including that goddamn mess in Africa, you think you can get something past us?"

        "Touche." I said. I shrugged. "I don't know yet. Maybe head up to the Doutree property and have a talk with them. Maybe try to find Jimmie Doutree. My mother said he went back to his parents house, but she just wanted to get me the fuck out of her house."

        "So she lied." John said.

        "So she lied." I nodded.

        Nancy looked around her. "I'm gonna grab something that isn't hospital food to eat, and some pop."

        John stepped up next to her. "I'm gonna grab a rack of beer. We can have some brews and shoot the shit once we get done with whatever evil deeds we're gonna do."

        "Who's watching Niamh?" I asked.

        "My sister." John laughed. "Little brat has a goddamn .45 in her purse, and she'll shoot to protect your sister." John sister was Texas, Niamh was my sister, and John was my friend, when you add it all up it meant that John's little sister Amy-Joe would blow a hole in anyone who she thought threatened Niamh.

        "Grab me some Rainer, will you?" I asked, putting my hands behind my back out of habit when I had an urge to put them in my pocket.

        "Roger that." Bomber said. Nancy reached down and took John's hand.

        I watched them go into the AM/PM store, feeling a little lonelier than I had. I hadn't realized just how much I missed having them near me, just how much I missed my crew. I didn't belong in the World, didn't belong around normal people, I belonged in Europe. I belonged back in the 1K Zone, at Atlas, with my crew, running that massive ammunition depot that hated everyone there and wanted them to die.

        The tailgate took twice to slam shut.

        The steel was cool against my palms as I looked in the back of the truck. It was empty except for a few Orange Crush cans and a couple food wrappers. I squeezed the steel a moment, trying to center myself.

        I'd just started to turn to see if Nancy and John were coming out of the store yet when a cinderblock of a fist crashed into the side of my head. The lizard was thrown against the wall of his station and half his monitors exploded in glass and fire. The lines went half down, my vision filling with static, and a loud ringing filled my ears.

        The cinderblock hit me in the ribs as I slumped against the tailgate, driving the wind out of me, and I felt two of my ribs crack as the muscle deformed beneath the force of the blow. I went down on my hands and knees, coughing, and a boot caught me in the side of the mouth.

        It was a weird feeling, the teeth on either side of two of the implants snapping off at the gumline. My mouth filled with blood and I spit it out reflexively. I was still conscious, the lizard getting to his feet and trying to slap the combat button.

        "Don't seem so tough, Little Orphan Annie. You use a bat on my boy Lonnie when you ambushed him?" The voice was thick, gravelly, and slurred.

        Papa Doutree.