The migraine-inducing flicker of hospital lights are starting to take their toll. My back cracks every time I have to adjust myself from a chair that I’m pretty sure was invented by someone without an ass. The anxiety building beeps filling the air. I honestly prefer my apartment.

Everytime a nurse walks by, even remotely near me, I become a dog waiting for their owner.

She has to make it.

A gust of wind rips through and the light of a new day peers its head.

“Fuck! How long has it been?” I ask myself, placing my face in my hands.

From the entrance, I hear somber footsteps making their way to me. I can barely bring myself to lift my head. A pair of brown dress shoes stop and point themselves in front of me.

“How are you holding up?” The voice asks in a gentle tone.

My neck strains itself just trying to lift myself.

“Hi Captain.” I replied.

He gives out an exasperated sigh and sits next to me.

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“You here to yell at me?”

“Not today. That will be for a less private place.”

“Fair enough. I made a call and it went south.”

“No questions there. Care to tell me why you lied to the Officer in command.”

“You know Bill would have never agreed to it.”

“We have a chain of command for a reason, Hanes.”

“The only reason he was in charge is because he got there first. That's not how a leader is picked.”

“Regardless of how he got in charge, you are supposed to follow his orders.”

“You really think Bill would have handled that any better? We’d probably still be there.”

“Maybe we would. But we likely wouldn’t have three dead and an officer in the hospital.”

“How many civilians were harmed?”

“Hanes, that's not the point.”

“How many? One guy with a bump on his head.”

“You were supposed to follow orders.”He said in a slightly raised tone. “We have a way of doing things and I can’t have you going around sending a whole platoon to the wrong place just because you want to feel like a hero again.”

I hate when he’s got a point.

“I was just trying to limit casualties.”

“You were trying to be one. Instead your partner might not even make it because of what you did.”

He sticks his hand in his pocket and starts fiddling around.

“Thought you quit smoking.”

“I did. But I have this pain in the ass detective who keeps making me want to pull my hair out.” He says with a grin. “How’s she doing?”

“Last I heard she had a collapsed lung, shit ton of blood loss and a broken clavicle. Oh and she’s in a medically induced coma.”

“Shit. Any idea when she might recover.”

“Hard to tell. It was spotty for a while but at least she’s stable for now.”

He takes the carton out and pulls a cigarette out. He beats it against the box not in debate with himself.

“What about you? How’s the hand?”

“It’ll heal.”

“Ya? Too bad. I would have loved to put you on desk duty for the rest of your life.”

I can’t help but smile at that one. Pretty good.

“But when I’m gone you’ll have way too much time on your hands. What will you do?”

“Probably retire. Considering that you’ve probably taken ten years off my life expectancy I should really spend some time with my family.”

“Why wait for me to go?”

“I can’t stand my family. The kids just want money and the wife wants quality time. I just want to be alone with my thoughts here and there.”

“You know captain, I would trade everything to be in your shoes.”

“I know Kid. But that doesn’t mean you have to be so damn rushed to see them.”

“Some days it’s all I can think about.”

“The way I see it. They’ve got all the time in the world. The only one really waiting is you. So there's no rush.” He says while getting up to his feet.

As he walks back to the main entrance he slows for a moment.

“Hey Scott.”

“Ya?”

“You know I’ve got to suspend you right?”

“Ya I figured. Another week?”

“Make it three. Go out of town or something.” He says as he continues to walk away waving his cigarette in the air. “And take a shower. You smell like shit!”

“Fuck.” I say under my breath.

I was actually thinking about taking a little trip. I make my way to the counter of the reception.

“Hey. I wanted to know if you had any updates on Haley Ashe.”

“I’m sorry mr. Hanes. These things take a while.” One of the nurses reply

“You got a phone I can use?”

“Just down the hall and to your right.”

“Thanks.”

Once at the dusty phone book I rummage through the J’s

“Where are you Jackson?” I whisper to myself.

Got it! Looks like about four maybe four and a half hours away. I better make my way. As I make it to the edge of the exit I’m met by a less than pleasant face.

“Hi Hanes! How’s the hand?” He says in an overly chipper voice.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Hey Bill. It’s fine. Just some partial degloving and a fractured thumb.”

“That doesn’t sound fine to me.”

“Thumb still works so it could be worse.”

“Well you sure are a tough cookie. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I’m good. Why are you even here?”

“Oh I’m just here to bring Haley some brownies that the wife made.”

“You know she’s in a coma right?”

“Oh ya right… Well it doesn’t mean she can’t wake up to the sweet smell of chocolate.”

Burdened by the knowledge of the stupidity I just heard, I decide to let this one go.

“See you later Bill.”

“Where you going?”

“St-Louis.”

“What you going there?”

“I’ve got some questions for someone.”

“All the way in St-Louis? Seems like a long way just for some questions.”

“Sure does.” I say as I promptly make my way out.

The bus station smells like piss. Just a cesspool of garbage and human waste. Weirdly smells like the apartment. The bus ride over isn’t so bad. Sure it took a little longer due to a snowstorm but it was frankly rather peaceful. Alone with my thoughts for about four hours just trying to plan on what to say. Straight from the station I take a cab to a small farmhouse. A beaten down piece of shit where the snow hasn’t been plowed since the start of the season. Just a set of deeply sunk in footprints leading to a dimly lit home. As I knock, I feel the house creak against my fingers.

“Who is it?” I hear yelling from the other end of the house.

“Hanes.”

“Who the fuck is Hanes?”

I seigh and shrug my shoulders.

“Captain Scott Hanes.”

There’s a long pause. The wind blows sending a chill along my neck.

“Can you let me in it’s fucking freezing out here?”

“Ya one sec.” The voice answers.

The sound of chains and locks rusle against the door. It opens ever so slightly so that all I can see is a largely dilated pupil which shrinks in the sunlight.

“Holy shit it is you!” The voice exclaims as he whips the door open. A man with a large smile and wide open arms appears. “I thought you were dead!”

“Do you know how many people start their conversations like that?”

“Can you blame them?”

“I guess not.” I answer begrudgingly.

“Come in! Come in!”

“Thanks.”

We make our way to the living room. Just a couple couches next to a fireplace and a couple family photos on the mantle.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I actually have to talk to you about something Jackson.”

“You came all the way here just to talk to me?”

“Ya… It’s important.”

“Ok well before that why don’t you tell me how you’ve been. I haven’t seen you since… well you know.”

“I’m alright. Still alive somehow. How’s everything for you?”

“I’m doing just… just awful honestly. Ever since my dad croaked I’ve been trying to run his farm. I know nothing about farming.”

“Good thing it’s winter and you get a vacation.”

“Ya that’s a good break. But I didn’t make enough to fix anything in here.”

“It’ll get there. You never were really one to give up on anything.”

“Ya I suppose you have a point. So enough about me. Tell me about you. You still working with Shaw?”

I grit my teeth.

“Shaw actually died a couple months ago. Cancer.”

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that. Better gone huh?”

“Better Gone.”

An old saying from the platoon. The days where we would take severe losses and morale would start to take a toll on us. What we used to say was “Better gone than in this hell”.

“How about that girl of yours? Amanda right?”

“Gone too. Killed”

He takes a more distant position.

“Fuck. I see you have also had quite the last couple of years.”

“Ever feel like it was easier over there?”

He lets out a smirk.

“Tell me about it. Just shoot at all your problems.” He rises from the comfort of his chair. “Drink?”

“Sure.”

He makes it over to the dark corner of the room next to his study and pulls a bottle.

“I’ve been saving this one for a happy occasion… but those seem pretty hard to come by these days.”

Makes his way over to me and drops the crystal glass in my hand.

“Besides. This is a happy occasion. I get to see an old friend.” He says raising his glass.

He extends his arms along the top of the couch.

“Listen, Jackson. I’m not here just to visit.”

“I figured as much. That would have happened years ago if you were.”

He lets out a big sigh and breaks eye contact. His hand clutching the glass that little bit tighter.

“So why are you here?”

“Amanda.”

“What? Do you think I did it?”

“Of course not.”

I lean it a bit.

“But your name came up in a new lead. I can’t believe that it’s a coincidence.”

“What are you accusing me of?”

“Nothing. I’m just hoping that you would know why your name would come up.”

I raise my arms against my chair to mirror him. He breaks eye contact once again and bites his lower lip.

“I don’t know. I haven’t left St-Louis in 8 years, Hanes. I don’t exactly talk to anyone for the good ol’ days”

“I need something. Listen… I’m after this guy… and he’s not afraid to make things personal. I need you to think. Because you might be a target.”

He brings his arms back into his center and clutches his glass with both hands.

“Target? Why would I be a target?”

Something is not sitting right. He's looking more and more like a dog with his tail between his legs. Very unlike the man I remember.

“I don’t know. But I received a note the other day with names of the few people left in my life. One is dead, the other in the ICU.”

A small twitch on the right side of his lip.

“So… you are playing for keeps.”

“Just like the good ol’ days.”

I take my first drink. It’s very smooth with a sharp smoky aftertaste.

“Two questions. One, can you think of anyone who would want you dead? Two… What kind of scotch is this?”

He left out a small laugh exhaling quickly through his nose and relaxing his shoulders.

“I see you have the same priorities. It’s Oban. My dad’s favorite. Well it was.”

“I like it. And for the other questions.”

He continues to glance away every time we make eye contact.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Why do you think I’m hiding something?”

“Because we’ve played poker… and you suck at it.”

“Well. I don’t have as many enemies as you do over here.” He says darting his eyebrows to the sky and takes half his glass in one shot.

“You remember that squad that joined us the night mission where we were sent to rescue those POW’s?”

“Sure a little.”

“Well one of them came to visit a couple years ago. Lucas I think.”

“What did he come here for?”

“Well he was coming through the city on some road trip with his family and just wanted to pass by. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Lucas huh? Not sure it rings any bells. Was there anything suspicious about him?”

“Other than his wife being way out of his league, not much.”

“Did he say where he was going? Or where he came from?”

“I think he said Oklahoma. His wife was from there or something.”

“Did he tell you anything that might help?”

“Not that I can think of. They were going there to visit family and introduce their son.”

“Son?”

“Ya he was like 2 or 3 and had never met his grandparents.”

“Anything else?”

He goes off to a far away land to find anything that could help.

“Um… we talked a little bit about overseas and how he found out that he lost his dad while he was over there.”

“And how did that come about?”

“Well I was telling him about how I inherited this place from my old man and I guess it brought back old memories.”

He is becoming jittery. He really was shit at poker. Not to mention a bad storyteller. I get up and finish my glass simultaneously.

“Something wrong?” He asks in a worried tone.

“Sorry. It’s been a long ride to get here. My legs are still pretty stiff.” I say while beginning to pace against the heat of the fireplace.

“Anything else? Any mention of me? Shaw?”

“I don’t know what you want from me Hanes. It’s a small conversation I had years ago.”

“You see that’s exactly it. You didn’t want to tell me at first which leads me to believe there’s more to it than that.”

“So what? You think we schemed on how to kill our old captain’s wife to get back at him?” He says getting more agitated.

“Did you? Maybe. Sounds like a stupid plan to me. No real motive. We weren’t even that close with this Lucas guy. It was one mission. I know I rub people the wrong way but that would be a record for me.”

“Just tell me what you’re getting at or get the fuck out.” He says, reaching his arms far back against the couch.

“You just take the fun out of this don’t you?”

“Fun out of what?”

He’s getting short tempered. He bites his lip between every sentence and he is holding back a frown.

“Didn’t you tell me your dad died this year?”