Read Online Texas Tango: A Flint Rock Novel by Glenn Smith - Free Book Online
Authors: Glenn Smith
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because it was only then her body clock’s usual bedtime seven hours earlier in Texas. Flint returned to his room, opened the envelope that he found on the floor just inside his door. In it was a sheet of white paper with block letter printing: "YOU BIG PRICK—11:00 A.M. HOUSE OF THE VETTI. BRING THE SHRINK."
Flint showered, shaved, dressed and went to the rooftop restaurant for breakfast. Mary was there waiting for her first sip of coffee to be brought. He joined her, they ordered, she read the note.
"You going?" she asked him.
"Yes. Might learn something," he replied.
"Taking Ava?"
"Probably not wise, but I'll ask what she wants to do."
"Okay if I go instead?"
"Fine with me, but why take the risk?" Flint wondered out loud.
"I'll be bored if I stay here and . . . well, the note said to bring Ava. I'm about her size. You might get more if whoever this is thinks you are following directives."
Mary and Ava both had full dark hair with some curl. Both were athletic and walked smoothly with energy.
Mary called Ava. They chatted. Then Flint took the phone and read the note to Ava.
"House of the Vetti," Ava said slowly, “is at Pompeii, but that particular house has been closed for the last few years. I saw it on a school field trip when I was a young teenager. We all giggled at Piriapus."
Time was short. Flint would be late to Pompeii even if he and Mary left immediately and went directly to the House of the Vetti. After more discussion, Ava agreed to Mary's request to take her place
Flint had the Sig .38 in his right hand blazer pocket. The sunny day made his medium weight blazer just enough for comfort. The battery in the gun’s handle was fresh so the red laser sight worked properly. He would have to trust that it was sighted in for about forty or fifty yards. No time to try to find a shooting range and check it out by firing it.
Mary and Flint each had on Ray Ban aviator tear drop sunglasses. Mary took one of the two extra clips of ammo for the Sig and put it in her hand bag;
"My dad had a Sig Saur," she told Flint. It was not a .38 like this one; 9 mm instead. I got so I could beat him on the range most of the time."
"Have you fired with a laser sight?" Flint asked her.
"Yes. My father's had conventional open sights, but an army colonel at the range had a Glock with a red laser dot. I fired his a couple of times."
The local train took an hour. Another five minutes to walk to the entrance of the Pompeii restoration and get tickets for each of them. Then it was a fifteen minute walk to the street on which the House of Vetti is located. They were twenty-five minutes late.
As the pair walked up to the house entrance, the nearest person was half a football field's length away. An iron gate at the house’s entrance was locked, but Piriapus and his oversized appendage was visible through the vertical bars. Mary suppressed a laugh. Flint had been there several years earlier, before the building was closed to the public. His mind was puzzled. Why would someone want him and Ava on that spot? Then he saw the shoe box inside the locked iron gate , well out of reach.
"Run," he said loudly as he grabbed Mary's arm and followed his own directive. They were moving fast, already ten yards down the concrete and stone wall away from the iron gate when the plastique blew Piriapus to smithereens. Flint was behind Mary, so he absorbed more energy from the blast than did she. He went down. Mary almost did, but she stayed upright and was another ten yards further along when a figure stepped from somewhere across the narrow street. He twirled a set of bolas perdida above his head—the kind that Argentine gauchos use to stop people from running. They use heavier ones for cattle. It caught Mary's ankles, whipped around
Flint showered, shaved, dressed and went to the rooftop restaurant for breakfast. Mary was there waiting for her first sip of coffee to be brought. He joined her, they ordered, she read the note.
"You going?" she asked him.
"Yes. Might learn something," he replied.
"Taking Ava?"
"Probably not wise, but I'll ask what she wants to do."
"Okay if I go instead?"
"Fine with me, but why take the risk?" Flint wondered out loud.
"I'll be bored if I stay here and . . . well, the note said to bring Ava. I'm about her size. You might get more if whoever this is thinks you are following directives."
Mary and Ava both had full dark hair with some curl. Both were athletic and walked smoothly with energy.
Mary called Ava. They chatted. Then Flint took the phone and read the note to Ava.
"House of the Vetti," Ava said slowly, “is at Pompeii, but that particular house has been closed for the last few years. I saw it on a school field trip when I was a young teenager. We all giggled at Piriapus."
Time was short. Flint would be late to Pompeii even if he and Mary left immediately and went directly to the House of the Vetti. After more discussion, Ava agreed to Mary's request to take her place
Flint had the Sig .38 in his right hand blazer pocket. The sunny day made his medium weight blazer just enough for comfort. The battery in the gun’s handle was fresh so the red laser sight worked properly. He would have to trust that it was sighted in for about forty or fifty yards. No time to try to find a shooting range and check it out by firing it.
Mary and Flint each had on Ray Ban aviator tear drop sunglasses. Mary took one of the two extra clips of ammo for the Sig and put it in her hand bag;
"My dad had a Sig Saur," she told Flint. It was not a .38 like this one; 9 mm instead. I got so I could beat him on the range most of the time."
"Have you fired with a laser sight?" Flint asked her.
"Yes. My father's had conventional open sights, but an army colonel at the range had a Glock with a red laser dot. I fired his a couple of times."
The local train took an hour. Another five minutes to walk to the entrance of the Pompeii restoration and get tickets for each of them. Then it was a fifteen minute walk to the street on which the House of Vetti is located. They were twenty-five minutes late.
As the pair walked up to the house entrance, the nearest person was half a football field's length away. An iron gate at the house’s entrance was locked, but Piriapus and his oversized appendage was visible through the vertical bars. Mary suppressed a laugh. Flint had been there several years earlier, before the building was closed to the public. His mind was puzzled. Why would someone want him and Ava on that spot? Then he saw the shoe box inside the locked iron gate , well out of reach.
"Run," he said loudly as he grabbed Mary's arm and followed his own directive. They were moving fast, already ten yards down the concrete and stone wall away from the iron gate when the plastique blew Piriapus to smithereens. Flint was behind Mary, so he absorbed more energy from the blast than did she. He went down. Mary almost did, but she stayed upright and was another ten yards further along when a figure stepped from somewhere across the narrow street. He twirled a set of bolas perdida above his head—the kind that Argentine gauchos use to stop people from running. They use heavier ones for cattle. It caught Mary's ankles, whipped around
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