Page 25 of In Cold Blood
The backdrop of the mountains framed by pines was breathtaking even in its dark silhouetted form. Across the moonlit water in the distance, he could see Hawk Island. A huge cluster of pines set high upon rocks; a home barely visible nestled within. It looked out of place, solitary. However, it wasn’t alone. There were two more islands on High Peaks Lake. Hawk Island was the smallest, a privately owned plot of land that was often rented out to families.
Staring out, he was startled by a grizzled voice.
“They’re still at it,” a stranger said. To his right a man in his early seventies emerged from the tree line, washing a flashlight ahead of him. His hair was a shocking white that looked strangely out of place from his dark beard.Dyed.It had to be, Noah thought. The closer he got, the better look he had of him. Noah’s eyes widened at the oddity. The guy had on a pair ofwhat looked like night vision goggles set high on his forehead, a black bathrobe that was open exposing flowery, Hawaiian-style shorts, and a pair of flip-flops.
To top that off he was puffing on a stubby cigar tucked into the corner of his mouth.
Disturbed, Noah furrowed his brow.What in the heavens is this…?he thought.
The old-timer sniffed hard, still looking off toward Hawk Island and continuing as if it was some conversation they’d already had days prior. “Though I’ve managed to record their antics. They might think they have everyone else fooled but not us.”
“Excuse me?” Noah asked, stepping down off the porch into the light.
The man pointed the beam of his flashlight into Noah’s eyes. He squinted.
“You mind?” Noah said.
“Huh. So you’re alive. For a moment there I thought my meds were doing a number on my eyes. I heard you were dead.”
“I’m not Luke.”
“Well of course you’re not.” He winked. “Going all covert operations, are we? Yeah, I saw the funeral broadcast. I have to admit that’s kind of extreme, but hey, whatever works to nab these a-holes, right?” He sniffed hard. “In fact, it brings me back to my time in Vietnam. Twenty-one years old. Fresh out of sniper school. Did I ever tell you about that?” Before Noah could respond, the old-timer continued all theatrical. “November 1970. I was part of the first combat H.A.L.O. jump ever. It was me and five others. We dropped out of a C-130. It was an intelligence mission. They won’t tell you what really went on. Oh no, you’ll only get that from me. Yep. I can still hear the rush of the wind and the engines howling in my ears. Plummeting to the ground through rain is something else. Shitty weather but damn, I’ll tellyou, that drop was better than any orgasm, and that’s saying a lot… because I love my women.” He continued, “I pulled the ripcord at 1,500 feet. And glided down, melting into the jungle like a knife through butter. It was pure perfection. We lost Burney Westborough on entry, and Mike Calhoun had a shit landing but he survived with a busted-up ankle. Anyway, so we slide under the radar. We’re there to take out two higher-ups. Man, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Once we landed in that mosquito-infested jungle and tapped into the communications, I immediately took out one of them from a hundred yards. His head erupted like a melon. It was beautiful. After that, I took his uniform and strolled toward camp without a care in the world. You’d be amazed at what you can get by those fools. Though, I guess I should be thankful to the good Lord that he didn’t grace me with long legs and those guards at the gate with great eyesight. Anyhow. Chin down. Eyes fixed on the prize. I’m still surprised I got in. Seriously, today, there’s no way anyone else would have managed to get that close. Well. It was over before they knew it. Yep. They never saw us coming.” He shook his head. “They just don’t make soldiers like they used to.”
The stranger stood there gawking at Noah, lost in thought until it became almost awkward.
“Good to know,” Noah said.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“I think you have me mistaken.” He extended his hand. “I’m Noah Sutherland. Luke’s brother.”
The man looked at his hand and then his face. “Huh. But…”
“Identical twins.”
“He never told me.”
“It’s not something we talk about much.”
The guy nodded slowly. “Right. That would explain a lot. So, uh...” he trailed off.
“Today’s funeral was real, yep,” Noah said, filling in the blanks. The poor guy had either had one too many drinks or had skipped his meds.
The stranger shook his head. “So that means…” There was a pause. “Geesh. My gosh. Those bastards. They got him.”
“They?” Noah probed.
The man motioned to Hawk Island. “They’ve been at it a while. Your brother was convinced he could stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Funny business. You know what I mean. Wink, wink, nod, nod. They’re always over there throwing those damn parties.”
Noah raised his eyebrow. “That’s because the island is rented out. They’ve done it for years.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they’d have you believe. It makes it easier to excuse all the comings and goings. It’s a cover, my friend, a front, nothing but smoke and mirrors for their operation.”
“Operation? And that would be?” he asked, fishing for more while realizing he was only giving fuel to the man dressed like Hugh Hefner. Noah noticed above his breast pocket a long line of military medals. It was beyond strange. He could have sworn one of them was a Purple Heart. As the guy got closer, Noah caught a whiff of alcohol and cigars. He stank to high heaven. He had to be two sheets to the wind. Which of course would explain his attire and odd behavior.
