six and had a flattop you could balance a level on it was so precise. When he released me, I took a step back towards my father then leveled the huge SEAL with a glare.
“As I was saying . . . What took you so long to get here? Kade thinks you’ve written him off.”
“What the fuck?” the other SEAL, who was a fine looking black man with a bald head and amber colored eyes, hissed before grabbing my arm and moving towards a corner. “Talk to me,” he ordered once my father and the other SEAL had followed.
“From what I gathered from Kade your mission was over six months ago; when you didn’t hit town like he thought you would he assumed you’d written him off. “
“Our mission was extended to twenty-four months. He knows there is always a possibility of that happening.”
“He may know that, son, but considering he’s in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, you can see how he might lose faith. He’s focusing on the wrong done to him, not whether or not you got delayed,” my dad jumped in.
“Who are you to the Chief?” he asked me.
“Kade? I’m his dog trainer.”
“Pardon?” the SEAL I’d decided to dub “Drago”, since he reminded me of the Russian from Rocky 4, asked, confused.
“Why don’t we sit down and start from the beginning?” I replied.
The SEALs wasted no time pulling up chairs so Dad and I joined them. A waitress came straight over, her boobs pushed out in an obvious attempt to get their attention told me the boys wouldn’t be lonely long if they were looking for female companionship. Impressively, they ignored her; they were too attentive, focused on me as they waited for me to continue.
“I’m Harley and this is my father Harry Dash. We own and run Dirty Harry’s Auto Repair in Milton.”
“Oh, fuck,” Drago mumbled, his eyes shooting to the other SEAL.
“What?”
“Nothin’, nothin’. Please tell me you’re still married.”
“Um, I was ’til a few years ago . . . Wait, how did you know that?”
“I’m Michael McDonald,” Drago blurted out, shoving his hand in my face to shake. “Everyone calls me Mickey D, but you can call me Dead Man Walking.”
I looked at my dad and bugged out my eyes, then shook his hand. Mickey D had gone from cocky and sure of himself to nervous and jittery in a blink of an eye.
“You can call me Prez,” the other SEAL jumped in, pulling my hand away from Mickey’s.
“Why Prez?” my dad asked.
“Because I was named after the greatest President to ever hold the office. Ronald Reagan, God rest his soul,” Prez answered with pride, his hand over his heart as if uttering the Gipper’s name required the same respect as the Pledge of Allegiance.
“Amen,” my dad joined in, shaking Prez’s hand. An immediate bond, born of conservative values, was formed between the two.
“Tell me how you know so much about what’s happening with my brother?” Prez inquired.
“As I said before, I’m his dog trainer. I volunteer at the prison with a program called IDTP. We rehabilitate abused dogs using inmates within the correctional system. I’m assigned to the prison Kade was transferred to after his conviction and I recommended him for the program.”
“Do you always take this much interest in the inmates you train?” Mickey asked.
“Oh, no. It’s just that Dad and I followed the case from the beginning and knew he was innocent.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you think he’s in danger now or what you’re doing here .” Prez asked.
“I was at the prison today and he had stitches on his arm from some sort of attack. He blew it off as nothing, but I knew he was in trouble. As for why I’m here, not knowing if you guys were actually going to show up we decided to dig around and see what we could come up with on our own.”
Prez chuckled when I was done, shooting Mickey a curious look. Then he turned serious and leaned into the table; for the next few minutes he was all business.
“We set down at
“As I was saying . . . What took you so long to get here? Kade thinks you’ve written him off.”
“What the fuck?” the other SEAL, who was a fine looking black man with a bald head and amber colored eyes, hissed before grabbing my arm and moving towards a corner. “Talk to me,” he ordered once my father and the other SEAL had followed.
“From what I gathered from Kade your mission was over six months ago; when you didn’t hit town like he thought you would he assumed you’d written him off. “
“Our mission was extended to twenty-four months. He knows there is always a possibility of that happening.”
“He may know that, son, but considering he’s in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, you can see how he might lose faith. He’s focusing on the wrong done to him, not whether or not you got delayed,” my dad jumped in.
“Who are you to the Chief?” he asked me.
“Kade? I’m his dog trainer.”
“Pardon?” the SEAL I’d decided to dub “Drago”, since he reminded me of the Russian from Rocky 4, asked, confused.
“Why don’t we sit down and start from the beginning?” I replied.
The SEALs wasted no time pulling up chairs so Dad and I joined them. A waitress came straight over, her boobs pushed out in an obvious attempt to get their attention told me the boys wouldn’t be lonely long if they were looking for female companionship. Impressively, they ignored her; they were too attentive, focused on me as they waited for me to continue.
“I’m Harley and this is my father Harry Dash. We own and run Dirty Harry’s Auto Repair in Milton.”
“Oh, fuck,” Drago mumbled, his eyes shooting to the other SEAL.
“What?”
“Nothin’, nothin’. Please tell me you’re still married.”
“Um, I was ’til a few years ago . . . Wait, how did you know that?”
“I’m Michael McDonald,” Drago blurted out, shoving his hand in my face to shake. “Everyone calls me Mickey D, but you can call me Dead Man Walking.”
I looked at my dad and bugged out my eyes, then shook his hand. Mickey D had gone from cocky and sure of himself to nervous and jittery in a blink of an eye.
“You can call me Prez,” the other SEAL jumped in, pulling my hand away from Mickey’s.
“Why Prez?” my dad asked.
“Because I was named after the greatest President to ever hold the office. Ronald Reagan, God rest his soul,” Prez answered with pride, his hand over his heart as if uttering the Gipper’s name required the same respect as the Pledge of Allegiance.
“Amen,” my dad joined in, shaking Prez’s hand. An immediate bond, born of conservative values, was formed between the two.
“Tell me how you know so much about what’s happening with my brother?” Prez inquired.
“As I said before, I’m his dog trainer. I volunteer at the prison with a program called IDTP. We rehabilitate abused dogs using inmates within the correctional system. I’m assigned to the prison Kade was transferred to after his conviction and I recommended him for the program.”
“Do you always take this much interest in the inmates you train?” Mickey asked.
“Oh, no. It’s just that Dad and I followed the case from the beginning and knew he was innocent.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you think he’s in danger now or what you’re doing here .” Prez asked.
“I was at the prison today and he had stitches on his arm from some sort of attack. He blew it off as nothing, but I knew he was in trouble. As for why I’m here, not knowing if you guys were actually going to show up we decided to dig around and see what we could come up with on our own.”
Prez chuckled when I was done, shooting Mickey a curious look. Then he turned serious and leaned into the table; for the next few minutes he was all business.
“We set down at
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