A Watch in the Night - Softcover

Libbey, James R.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1440190593 ISBN 13: 9781440190599

Verlag: iUniverse, 2010

Inhaltsangabe

James Sullivan survives the war in Vietnam only to come home to find he can't make it in the everyday world. He prefers jungle work to being in a college classroom or corporate office. Luckily, he remembers the phone number of a mysterious military man who opens the door to a clandestine organization known as "Theatre," which was formed to compete against East Germany's Stasi. But after twenty years with the agency, his partner is brutally murdered. Sully is the one who will take the fall. No longer part of the agency, he contacts a plastic surgeon so he can change his appearance and track down those responsible for his best friend's death. Sully calls in favors from former associates and then joins forces with a former Green Beret turned private investigator. His mission of vengeance will lead him to twists and turns around every corner as he prepares to take on one of New York City's five crime families in A Watch in the Night.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

James R. Libbey, a native of New York City, grew up in Greenwich Village and Pelham, New York. He served in the Army during World War II as an infantryman and rifle instructor and was a sales representative for thirty-five years. Visit www.jameslibbey.com to learn more about his writing.

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A Watch in the Night

By James R. Libbey

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 James R. Libbey
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-9059-9

Chapter One

A huge, angry cloud drifted northward, determined to catch up with the dirty gray air mass just making its way over the distant range of mountains. It looked as if these celestial companions were destined to meet, each arriving fashionably late to a loud confrontation in the rickety harbor boathouse. When it's over two men will be dead, a third nursing a serious leg wound.

Agent James Sullivan, Sully to just about everyone, still had the roar of gunshots ringing in his ears. Wiping at the mess of Kurt Framm's blood splattered across his own two-day growth of beard, he stared in dull horror at the picture he'd pulled from Framm's coat pocket. He pinched it hard between his thumb and pointer finger.

Sweet Jesus! How could even an animal like Fritz Gunder do that to another human being? He felt sorrow well up inside of him, but he smiled in spite of the pain. Framm died beggin' for mercy, Digger. Does that help a little? He knew it didn't. Nothing could make up for what was pictured in the Polaroid frame.

His tongue stirred the chew in his mouth. Then, gripping it between his teeth, he leaned over, letting a mix of saliva, tobacco juice, and bits of his own blood drip down on what was left of Kurt Framm's face. With extra force he sent another wad sailing across the boathouse and watched with satisfaction as it bounced off the head of Framm's strong man, the big, ugly gorilla he'd brought along for backup.

It had only taken Sully one shot to his hairy chest to bring down Fritz Gunder's number two man. The second shot he placed just under his right nostril, cutting off his screams and pleas.

When the meathead finally caught on and followed Kurt through the shutters, his foot hadn't touched the planks before Sully's third shot dissolved his face into a bloody mess. The impact sent him crashing head first into a crabbing net, his weapon still cold.

Suddenly, Sully's fingers numbed. The gruesome image of what was left of the Digger became too heavy to hold. He watched helplessly as the photo slipped from his hand. It stuck for a moment to the bloody material of the wetsuit covering his leg, then land noiselessly against the stool beneath him.

He fought to focus on something else but his eyes kept returning to the photo and all that was left of one of Theatre's finest agents. Then he saw it, in the lower corner of the photograph: a hand rose from the blood-soaked table with Dig's middle finger pointing straight up.

Sully smiled through cracked lips. Way to go Dig! Even in death, the Digger managed to give one final Screw You to Fritz Gunder.

As he shifted his weight, his right foot kicked at something. It was Kurt's HK 9mm, that piece of shit he'd always bragged about. It had fallen out of his jacket when Sully took him down. The agent shook his head; the brothers Heckler and Koch didn't do him any good this time.

With a shrug he picked it up, unzipped the top of his wetsuit and let it slide down inside remembering the Digger's mantra that you could never have too much firepower. He shifted again and, with the foot of his good leg, kicked Framm's smashed Uzi across the boathouse floor, smiling grimly when it buried itself in the crotch of the backup. He tore two long strips from Framm's coat and tied them as tightly as he could around the hole in his leg.

Sully let his head fall back, his eyes piercing the blackness overhead. He took a deep breath. Then, using the corner of the table to brace himself, he put his weight down on his wounded leg, preparing to walk. As the pain in his leg almost eclipsed the ache in his heart, he opened his mouth and screamed up into the rafters, scaring the hell out of a family of rats that had taken temporary refuge in the rotting beams.

Despite the pain, he imagined himself placing a series of holes in the Gunder's body as the Digger looked on and smiled. He'd start with one to the gut; let him bleed and hurt awhile. Then maybe the balls; take away his dignity. He thought he'd finish with one to the throat so he could watch him drown in his own blood. Sully let the fantasy slip back into a dark corner of his mind as he steadied himself. It's time to take out the garbage.

He limped his way across the floor, bent down, and, gripping Framm's collar with both hands, dragged him to the net and laid him out next to the "big gorilla." Then, winding his hands around one end of the netting, he towed the two bodies out to the end of the dock. Once there, Sully set them back-to-back against one of the pilings. He gave a wink to the absent Digger, thinking that he probably should deep six 'em, but he would rather have their clean-up team find 'em this way. Should really piss 'em off, eh, Dig?

Sully smiled, pulled the mask over his face, adjusted the air regulator, and tried a few breaths. He imagined Gunder's shock when he got the news that he'd been set up and had lost his right-hand man. It felt good to be the fish that got away.

He slipped off the edge of the dock and into the icy water, thankful for its numbing effect on his leg. As he sank slowly into the black river, he was delighted to see that the rats from inside the boathouse were now scurrying out toward the two bodies, squeaking with excitement at the prospect of a hearty meal.

He surfaced 22 minutes later and crawled into the dingy. He flopped down and lay there for a couple of minutes in the rocking boat before he changed into dry clothes. He spit another wad of saliva, laced with dried blood, into the stream. The leg wound had finally stopped throbbing. Sully gave a silent thanks to Kurt, who was always a lousy shot. You shoulda spent more time on the range instead of in the bushes with your buddy Fritzy. He sank the dingy, buried his wet suit in the soft clay that lined the bank, and headed in the direction of his pick-up point.

Within 30 minutes, his leg started bleeding again. Sully realized he'd have to find a place to rest or he wouldn't make it out. His luck held when he practically fell into a duck blind, probably belonging to some well-to-do Hausser. In seconds, Sully slipped into sleep, but nightmare images made it anything but restful.

Atop some high cliffs he spotted Director Hendricks standing alongside his friend and former control, Phil Carey. They appeared to be arguing, and more than once he heard his name mentioned. Then the scene faded, and another replaced it; he was standing in a desert alongside someone vaguely familiar. When the figure turned to face him, he saw the smiling, pockmarked face of Fritz Gunder, his teeth red with blood.

Sully woke to the sound of someone screaming, his body automatically rolling into an attack mode position. "Shit," he said with disgust when he realized the screams had been his own.

Sully held his breath and bit down on his lip, worried that his outburst might have alerted some unfriendly person to his whereabouts. When no one showed after five minutes, he felt safe to move out again. He tucked Framm's 9mm down inside his sock. Then, checking his own short-barreled 357, he wiped his sticky fingers on his trousers and set off to the rendezvous spot, hoping his contact would be there.

He limped through the woods using only the moon for light and direction. As he again gripped the studded handle of the weapon, he smiled, remembering one of Julie's famous remarks from so many years earlier. It had been during their wedding breakfast, served in a...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: iUniverse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2010
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1440190593
• ISBN 13: 9781440190599
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 212
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Deutschland