The Last Operation (The Remnants of War Series, Book 1) (22 page)

A hidden runway on the water—after Daniels' plane had landed, the barges would swing back into position covering any potential landing sites. Daniels thought it was genius-perfect.

He hired Ol'Donny to plan and supervise the building and towing of the barges. It would be done surreptitiously, miles from the normal channels and estuaries. Daniels found a tall Indian with the unlikely name of Spirit Wolf to provide the men for the required manual labors. Strong, quiet men of varied Indian ancestries, Daniels paid them in cash with Spirit Wolf acting as foreman.

Every day Ol'Donny Murtagh showed up in an airboat, the boy at his side. Daniels' interest in the boy soon transcended ordinary curiosity. There was a spark to Deeno, a relationship with the wilderness and its creatures that the boy seemed to carry about him. Daniels had never seen anything like it before, and like Ol'Donny Daniels was soon charmed by the boy.

It was late one afternoon when Daniels saw the boy sitting on the edge of the half constructed barge, leaning over, both hands in the water. When Daniels got closer, he saw there were two otters flashing like oily shadows between Deeno's hands. Black and slick, the fast little animals moved almost in a ballet with Deeno as the director.

Daniels sat next to the boy as the otters disappeared like a flash of dark lightning.

"Someday you'll have to tell me how you do that," Daniels said.

"They talk to me uncle Richard," said Deeno. He'd taken to calling Daniels "Uncle Richard."

Although he would have been at a loss to explain why, Richard Daniels was happy that the boy called him that.

* * *

Duke had started wondering where the kid went each morning. I don't really give a shit, he thought, but the little fucker goes somewhere every day and maybe I can get something out of it. After all, I'm in charge. Yeah, he thought, him and his trust fund, I'm in charge.

When Deeno got up the next morning, the sun had yet to rise. It was dark every morning when he left for Ol'Donny's house, but this time there was something different. Normally Duke slept until eleven. This morning he was up and waiting and snagged Deeno as he left the house.

"Where you go off to every day, boy? You'd best tell Duke right now."Deeno winced as the boy's arm was engulfed in Duke's hand like a twig in the paw of a large bear. Duke squeezed, the pressure causing waves of pain. Deeno fought to hold back tears, he didn't understand what the big man wanted, but he sensed an aura about Duke, that of the sadistic bully with the easy target.

To make matters worse, Duke had a hangover. He'd withdrawn three hundred dollars from Deeno's trust fund, given Loretta a hundred for food shopping and kept the rest, treating himself to a bottle of Wild Turkey. Godamn that sour mash was good, he thought. But now his head throbbed and instead of sleeping late he had to get up at the crack of dawn so he could figure out where the kid went. I should whack the kid one, he thought put the fear of God in the little fucking retard.

And he did.

Holding the boy with his left hand, he backhanded him a crashing right-handed blow. Deeno's head snapped back and a welt appeared on his face. A drop of blood oozed out where Duke's cheap steel ring had gashed the top of the boy's cheek.

Chapter 30

The last thing Ol'Donny expected this early in the morning was Duke standing on his porch. As Ol'Donny stepped outside he heard the boards creak as Duke shifted his two hundred or so pounds. But it was Deeno that riveted his attention. The right side of the boy's cheek was bruised with a four-inch welt at the upper part, topped off with a half-inch gash covered with dried blood.

"You evil bastard," said Ol'Donny, "what did you do to that boy?"

"Now that ain't too neighborly o' you Murtagh. Cain't you see he's retarded? Probably fell or something."

In his days, Ol'Donny Murtagh had been no slouch. There was a time he would have stood up to someone like Duke. He might even have won by sheer ferocity. But the years had slowed him down considerably, and he was well aware of that. Still he tried to push the big man back. Duke held his ground easily. He also held the boy by the arm. Deeno tried to push him away from Ol'Donny, but it was like David against Goliath without the slingshot.

"Hey knock it off, both of you," said Duke. "Look Murtagh, you been taking this kid somewhere every day, you probably been working him or something. The way I see it, I'm the boy's guardian, legal and all. Now it takes a pile of money to raise a kid and you're working him for free. From now on, you want the kid to go with you its ten bucks a day. Cash. Starting now."

In some parts of the country ten dollars a day is not a lot of money. In Ol'Donny world it was a king's ransom. It was just a little less than the meager Social Security check he received each month. The Everglades are not exactly a wellspring of financial opportunity and prosperity. The job for Richard Daniels was the first he had in a year. Still his mind raced, he would be able to afford the ten dollars a day as long as the project continued.

Ol'Donny cleaned out his little cash box and managed to give Duke fifty dollars—a five-day reprieve.

* * *

If Deeno could have understood the concept, he would have realized he was simultaneously in heaven and hell. His days were joyous episodes with Ol'Donny and the men who worked on Daniel's barges. Everyone enjoyed the company of the boy as he fluttered back and forth between the men. They would tell him stories of the Everglades and the Native American tribes that had populated Florida centuries ago.

Most of all, Deeno loved the stories and legends of the animals. He didn't understand many of the things the men would tell him, but he knew that if he smiled a lot and pretended to understand, they would feel good and that pleased Deeno. But he understood the colorful stories of the transformations and legends of the many animals that populated the great swamp. He loved being on the project, smelling the pitch used to seal the hull of the barges and the way the smoke rose in the clean air. That was Deeno's heaven.

Hell was something else Hell in one word was Duke. Loretta was practically non-existent for Deeno, she ignored him and let Duke do whatever he wanted. She thought it was better to have Duke smack the boy around a little then have him smack
her
around. Besides, Duke was easing up on her now that they had some spending cash. The new truck and boat helped keep him in a good mood. Only thing is, thought Loretta, you gotta watch the Wild Turkey with Duke. That's why most nights Deeno was out of the house late, returning after Duke fell asleep.

Deeno's problem was peeing. His room was nothing more than a large closet with no windows. During the day the temperature hit between ninety and a hundred, cooling off to the low eighties at night. Deeno's furniture was an old surplus army steel cot with a thin dirty mattress. The rest of the furniture was a stool and two crates packed with his clothes and pictures of his Grammy. There were no toys or games or any of the normal things one would have expected a twelve-year old boy to own.

About half the nights, Duke would spend at Gator's bar, coming in between eleven and midnight. Those were the easy nights. Deeno would eat the warmed up TV dinner that Loretta left out for him. He could go outside and pee or use the bathroom inside before going to sleep. The nights when Duke stayed home were the problems.

Duke would plop down in the easy chair, the Wild Turkey and shot glass at his side, the television on. He had withdrawn four thousand from Deeno's trust fund and bought a large high definition flat screen TV and satellite dish. Duke got all the channels and surfed until the bourbon closed his eyes.

The night after he had gotten the fifty dollars from Ol'Donny Murtagh, Duke was dozing off in front of the TV. Deeno watched him, peeking through a crack in the closet door, he had to pee real bad. Holding his legs together, the boy had been watching for Duke's eyes to close so he could sneak into the bathroom. To reach the bathroom, he had to pass in front of Duke. Deeno opened the door slowly so it wouldn't creak, and tip-toed past Duke into the bathroom and sat on the seat so he would make as little noise as possible.

He didn't make it back.

Duke had both eyes open, brute red and hazy.

"C'mere boy," said Duke.

Deeno approached, his lower lip trembled and his hands shook.

"Go in the kitchen and get me a beer boy, a nice cold one."

Deeno went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There was a moldy piece of cheese on a paper plate, a half empty bottle of Diet Coke, a carton of milk and half a left over Swanson frozen turkey TV dinner.

No beer. Loretta had forgotten.

Deeno came back into the living room.

"Th... th... th..."

"Speak up boy, Godamn it. Where the hell's my beer?"

Duke looked at the boy, his shaking hands and the terror filled expression on his face, the welt on his cheek almost purple in the reflected glow of the projection television. But Duke didn't see any of that. All he saw was empty hands.

No beer.

"I said where's my beer boy?"

Deeno didn't answer, he couldn't answer, his mind had no provision for such events.

Duke came out of his chair with a roar. He swung at the little boy. If he had connected, it was very likely he would have caused serious injury to the child, but Duke's bourbon fog threw off his aim. He recovered and launched a kick as the boy fled to his room. The kick connected on Deeno's hip, sending him crashing head first into the floor lamp.

Duke slammed the door shut after Deeno.

"Useless little fucker," he muttered.

In the musty sour smelling closet, Deeno's tears joined the other stains on the dingy mattress as the area around his left eye turned black and purple.

Chapter 31

Ol'Donny Murtagh had made up his mind. No matter what the cost, or what happened to him, he had to make things right. He knew he had to fight this evil that grew in the everyday light under the name of Duke. The old man had been disturbed to tears when little Deeno showed up this morning, he'd hugged the boy, gently stroking his head and murmuring soothing words. Deeno's left eye was blackened, the welt on top of his right cheek crusted with dried blood.

Ol'Donny knew what he had to do. There was no other way. He knew there was precious little the authorities would do. Child welfare was at the bottom of the county's priorities. To complicate matters, the boy's Down Syndrome would prevent effective communications. No, there remained only one way for Ol'Donny.

While the boy waited in the boat, Ol'Donny pulled the double barrel shotgun out of the closet. He checked the action and pulled out the box of OO shells. Tonight, he would force the boy to stay at his house then he would walk to Duke's and kill the man. It was that simple. At this point the consequences didn't matter to him. He'd lived long enough anyway. However it worked out, even if Duke turned the tables and killed him, it should bring enough attention so the case would be investigated. Perhaps then the boy would get a better break. The only thing that troubled Ol'Donny, was that he could not be sure things would get better for the boy. He agonized with those thoughts until Daniels pulled him aside after lunch break.

Like the rest of the men on his barge project, Daniels had noticed the bruises that appeared on the boy's face. He felt the tension in the boy and the old man and smelled the undercurrent of fear. Neither Deeno or Ol'Donny would answer his questions. So Daniels had called his new lawyer, a real sharp cookie named Kate. Daniels thought Kate had an incredible combination of brains, education and beauty.