Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (20 page)

At four thirty in the afternoon Clay arrived
in St. Louis. He made his way downtown to a large high dollar
hotel. Pulling into the parking area in front of the hotel's main
entrance, he exited his car and walked into the lobby. The
concierge on duty was at his station across from the check in
counter. Following several minutes of discussion, Clay settled on
one of the restaurants suggested by the man. After thanking the
concierge and taking several brochures on nearby attractions, he
left the hotel and drove to an old court house open to
tourists.

Later in the evening he found the recommended
steakhouse and enjoyed a fine steak dinner along with an expensive
bottle of red wine. He couldn’t pronounce the name of the wine, but
enjoyed it none the less.

This was his celebration dinner commemorating
his first paid professional hit. Two weeks ago he was unemployed,
his resources were dwindling, and he had no immediate options.
Tonight he was flush with money and success. He had seized an
opportunity to take control of his future, and at the same time
eliminated the laborer Business Agent's power over him. The B.A.
only had as much power as he would allow him to have. What a
revelation he thought, others can exercise control over my actions
only if I agree to enter into or remain in a situation where I
accept a subordinate role. Cut the strings and the puppet no longer
dances to the whim of the puppet master.

After driving to an inner city residential
neighborhood and stealing two sets of license plates, he left St.
Louis and headed back to Chicago, feeling very pleased with
himself.

Before midnight he was in Joliet, about
twenty miles from home. Instead of waking everyone at the house
with his unexpected arrival he decided to spend the remaining hours
until dawn at a motel.

Wednesday morning at nine o’clock he walked
in the back door at his parent’s home. Margaret was surprised to
see him at the early hour and was more than a little put out he had
not called her during the ten days he had been gone. She grabbed
him and encircled him in a hug and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you. Where have you
been, and why didn’t you call?”

“Mom, I was only gone ten days. I didn’t see
any need to call in such a short time.”

“Well I worry about you when you’re away. You
never know what can happen. You might get mugged, or be in a car
wreck or something.”

“Quit worrying about me Mom; I can take care
of myself just fine. Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m a
careful driver and I stay out of bad areas. Quit worrying.”

“O.K. Mr. tough guy, I’ll quit worrying. Now,
how was your trip? Did you relax and have a good time?”

“Yeah Mom, I had a good time. I just bummed
around; went to St. Louis Missouri, Little Rock Arkansas, and
Jackson Mississippi. Ate lots of good food, saw a few of the
sights, slept a lot and chased a girl or two.”

“You and your girl chasing. When are you
going to settle down and find a nice young lady to marry and start
raising a family? You need some stability in your life, someone to
work with to build a future for yourself.”

“Some day Mom. Right now I need to unpack and
pay a visit to the Union Hall.” He kissed his Mother on the cheek
and headed to his room to put his things away. “It’s good to be
home Mom,” he said over his shoulder as he struggled with his
suitcases to get through the doorway to the basement stairs.

Later, before lunch time he visited the Union
Hall and again got the cold shoulder as he approached the desk of
the Business Agent's hairy legged secretary. Eight or ten men were
lounging around the hiring area just killing time until they were
assigned a job. Looking up, the man gave a toothy grin and said
“Well, well, if it isn’t Albrecht. We’ve got men who want to work
full time on the bench due to the cold weather. It’s going to be a
long time before your turn comes up.”

Not stopping to argue with the fat flunky,
Clay walked over to the closed door to the Business Agents office.
The door opened when he turned the knob, while fatso yelled “Hey,
you can’t go in there.”

The B.A. was stretched out in a high backed
black leather desk chair with both legs up on the corner of a large
mahogany executive desk, talking on the phone. He was a portly,
middle aged man, with the cocky self assurance one in a position of
power assumes over others. As Clay entered the room and flung the
door shut behind him, the man stood up, put one palm over the
speaker end of the phone and yelled, “Get the hell out of here.” in
a demeaning voice. Once in front of the desk, Clay reached over to
the phone set and ended the call.

“You stupid son of a bitch; do you know who I
was talking to? You just cut off the president of our international
union in Washington.”

“I don’t care if it was President Jimmy
Carter in Washington. I’ve let you screw me over too long and I
just wanted to tell you in person to go fuck yourself. I don’t need
the God damn crumbs you throw out to your suck ass cronies. I’m
leaving the union for a real job; a business of my own.”

The man had slammed the receiver back down on
the desk phone and stood glaring at Clay, cursing him.

By then the assistant B.A. and three union
members had entered the room and arranged themselves around and
behind Clay.

It suddenly occurred to Clay he was
surrounded and on unfriendly ground; He might be lucky to escape
with just an ass whipping.

And then the beautiful black desk phone
rang!

Everyone in the room was jolted by the shrill
sound. The Business Agent reacted first by picking up the hand set
and saying, “Yeah; yeah everything is O.K.; just a minor
disturbance. It’s being taken care of; hang on a second.” After
covering the speaker end he addressed Clay, “You need to get the
fuck out of my office while you can still walk! And don’t ever try
to get a job in any union because you’re barred for life after this
stunt, Mr. Smart Ass.”

On the way to the exit, going through the
hall’s main waiting room, Clay was cursed and shoved from behind
several times, but not actually punched or kicked; just a couple of
the B.A.'s ass kissers trying to make points.

Once outside the door he relaxed and headed
for his car, never looking back and vowing to never again let
anybody crap on him.

E
arlier in the
morning the temperature had been in the mid thirties. Now, at half
past noon it was up to forty four degrees. Leaving the Union Hall,
Clay decided to stop and have lunch and a beer with Tony.

Mickey saw him first as he entered through
the back way. “Welcome back, man of leisure” he said loudly as he
waved to Clay.

After getting a beer from Mickey, Clay pulled
one of the captains chairs back from the table, lifted the beer
glass toward Tony, and said “Thanks.”

Tony nodded his head in silent
acknowledgement, “So how’s everything?”

“Good, in fact very good. I’ve got some
improving to do, but I’m satisfied with things in general. How are
things with you?”

“Good, things are running well. Joey’s got
all the operations lined out and everyone we deal with is more
cooperative than ever before. Seems like hitting those bastards
trying to take over got every body's attention and they’re all
staying in line now, thanks to you.”

“Now,” Tony continued as he rose from his
chair, “let’s go upstairs. Want to bring some lunch along?”

After both men had carried a large bowl of
steaming hot Chili, a paper cup of oyster crackers and a beer to
the upstairs card room, they sat down to talk.

“Before you left last week I said I’d have a
surprise for you when you got back. Are you ready for this?” Tony
asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready, but you don’t owe me
anything more, Tony.”

“I know you don’t expect anything else Kid,
and I respect it. I think I’ve found something I can do to put you
far ahead of the competition. It may even ensure your success.
There’s this guy I heard about who trains private soldiers;
paramilitary or mercenaries they’re called. Through a friend, of a
friend, of a friend I finally made contact with this guy. He
normally takes groups of up to six men at a time and trains them in
covert warfare; sniper training, assassinations, hand to hand
combat, small arms, explosives, urban warfare, escaping from prison
camps, you know, war crap. I’ve got it lined up, if you’re
interested, for you to take a full month of training with this guy,
all by yourself. He’ll devote his attention solely to you so you
get the maximum benefit of everything he knows.”

Clay didn’t need to think more than a split
second before he responded, “Sure I’d like to do it, but I don’t
have the kind of money this guy would want, so I…”

Tony cut him off in mid sentence “I told you
this was a surprise from me; a gift Kid, you don’t get to pay
anything. But understand; this is no picnic you’re going on. You’ll
have to go to a gym and work out every day for the next month and
get in top shape before he’ll even start with you. You’ll live at
this guy’s place and do the training there. This AIN’T no picnic
Kid. When I talked to this guy he impressed the hell out of me; he
knows more about stalking and killing people than anybody I've ever
talked to. He sounds like one bad son of a bitch. O.K?”

Clay looked at Tony and nodded his head in
acceptance, “Yeah Tony, it’s O.K. Hell, it’s more than O.K. it’s
great. Thank you. I really appreciate all you’re doing for me.”

Clay used the phone book to find listings of
gyms in the area and selected one before leaving the bar. After
driving there, he went inside and took a tour of the facility with
the manager; a tall muscular man named Dan Farrow. He decided to
enroll with a long term membership. In his line of work being in
good physical shape had to be a good thing. The manager also served
as a personal trainer. If he could get even close to the physical
condition of the manager he would be as fit as his body could stand
to endure. He told Dan he wanted to get in better shape because he
was just tired of looking soft, and wanted to look better. He added
he was self employed and could adjust his work schedule to make
time to work out. Dan simply nodded when Clay said he was going on
a month long vacation in thirty days and wanted to make the maximum
improvements he could by working out every day.

Dan seemed to be satisfied. He provided
information on nutrition and proper diet and made a standing
appointment to work with Clay every morning at eight Monday through
Friday.

Clay had never worked out seriously and was
amazed as the fat disappeared from all parts of his body and was
replaced with lean hard muscle. To increase his cardio vascular
endurance, and improve flexibility while bulking up with muscle, he
began to run more, both on the machines at the club, and outdoors
when the weather was decent. One morning, after his session with
Dan, they walked by one of the rooms where exercise classes were
held. An instructor was leading a small group, mostly women,
through stretching routines. Dan said “You should give some thought
to enrolling in one of these classes and possibly consider a Yoga
routine also. They help keep you flexible and also help your mental
attitude.” Seeing a dubious expression form on Clay’s face he
continued, “I’m serious. I try to do at least three classes a week
and recommend it highly. In fact, I’ll give you a free trial
membership in each of these classes for a month and you can form
your own opinion.”

Clay soon found himself spending half of
every day at the gym and enjoying it immensely. He was enjoying it
so much he lost track of the day’s and didn’t realize his next
thirty day training period was almost at hand. Soon he would be
going to ‘war camp’ as Tony was calling it.

Tony reminded him of the encroaching date one
afternoon over a glass of beer. “I got a call from your instructor
this morning. He wanted to know if you’re still serious, afraid you
might be having second thoughts and want to back out. I told him
you’re starting to look like a statue of one of those Greek Gods,
all muscled out and all.” Tony grinned and started laughing and
said loudly enough for Mickey and several patrons at the bar to
hear, “I can just see Clay posing nude up there on a table with his
pecker hanging out.” Mickey yelled, “Come on Clay, get naked and
climb up on the table. I’ll call Joan the hooker to come up and be
the judge.” When the group had stopped laughing and Tony had
regained his composure, he said “Come on, we need to go upstairs.”
After putting a fresh head on their mugs, they both headed up the
stairs to the card room.

After settling in at the table, Tony began to
read from a lined pad of paper, “This guy you’re going to train
with, he said to call him Joe, had me write down these things to
tell you. First, you’ll take the money for the training with you in
cash. You’re to carry it in a large blue gym bag. I’ll have it when
you’re ready to leave. Second, you’re to drive to Knoxville
Tennessee and arrive by seven o’clock next Tuesday morning. Don’t
stay in Knoxville the night before; drive into town in the morning.
You’re to park your car at the long term parking area near the
airport. Then take a cab to the bus station and buy a ticket for
Asheville North Carolina, the bus leaves at ten a.m. It’s important
you’re on the ten o'clock bus. You’ll be contacted by someone
there. Next, you’re to wear a pair of Army surplus combat boots,
make sure they fit you good. Buy the boots today and wear them
until they’re broken in. Also, wear a worn pair of Levi’s, a light
weight red jacket and a St. Louis Cardinals cap. Nothing is to be
new, except for the boots. He’s going to call me again the day
after tomorrow to get your clothing sizes; here write them down on
this paper. He said to bring two changes of your regular clothing
and he’ll furnish everything else you’ll need. Now, listen closely
to this. When you’re contacted at the bus station the person will
say, ‘Well, hi there stranger, I haven’t seen you for a long time’
and you’re to reply, ‘I’ll be damned, it was in Miami, wasn’t it’.
Got all of this, or do you want to go over it again?”