REVENGE ON THE BORDER

Book One

in the
TOMMY GUNN Series

by: Justin Case

Copyright© 2022 Justin Case

This Book is dedicated to:

All the Fallen heroes of Law Enforcement and the United States Customs and Border Protection Service. And to the families and friends they left behind. And also to all the Patriots who have worked tirelessly... in the face of great opposition... to secure our Nation's borders against illegal encroachment. God Bless Them ALL and keep them safe.

Foreword:
As with any Novel (or product) nowadays, I must offer you the following CAUTIONS.... This book contains written and sometimes explicit depictions of : Violence, Murder, Criminal activities, Sexual situations, Strong Language, and re-created factual crimes. It is also written from a decidedly Conservative Political Viewpoint, and may contain facts and truths that some persons will find shocking or offensive to their illiterate sensibilities. By your free choice to read this book, you imply your informed consent to be exposed to the contents. I recommend PARENTAL GUIDANCE for any reader under the age of 18. Like anyone else who has even passively paid any attention to the recent events in the United States can attest, the literal “WAR” against illegal immigration and criminal encroachment on our Southern Border has reached a fever pitch. Illegal Aliens cross by the tens of thousands. Many with the paid help of cartel “coyotes” who lead groups across the river and onward into our Nation. Border encroacher's are often forced to carry “packages” across, many times at gunpoint. Refusal has resulted in many execution style murders. Young girls and women are routinely raped by coyotes during the trip, and countless more are, frankly, outright kidnapped and forced into the sex trade. This sex trafficking has been found in ALL lower 48 States, Alaska, and even Canada.
Then, once inside the U.S., the illegal aliens often find (at an alarmingly high incidence) that they are not “free” to do as they please. More often than not, they are victims of extortion. Coerced under threats of violence into “paying dues” for years to the cartels who smuggled them.
Failure to pay is often met with retribution against family members remaining South of the border, and/or to themselves. The cartel drug trade flourishes with our unsecured borders. Fentanyl, a deadly drug that is manufactured in China, sent to Mexico, and smuggled into the U.S. by cartels, has become the #1 killer of teens and young adults in America. It is all too commonly mixed with Heroin, Cocaine, Benzodiazepines, Methamphetamines, Marijuana, and other drugs to give them an extra “kick”. This is done haphazardly, in most cases, and results in the deaths of thousands of the users. Standing on the battle line (yes, SINGULAR) are the Men and Women of Law Enforcement. Understaffed, underpaid, and often facing threats of death to themselves and their loved ones. And, unfortunately, demonized and protested by the very citizens and politicians they place their own lives on the line to protect. I chose to create the characters in this book series to reflect these courageous Men and Women. ALL my characters are fictional. ALL the actions and events depicted are fictional... but they are based on actual documented stories and events. I hope you enjoy this book, and will look forward to revisiting all these characters in my next book, “Tommy Gunn - Book Two - Southwest Showdown”, with the same enthusiasm as I am having while writing it. (Expected release: July 2023)

Tommy Gunn -

Revenge On The Border

Preface

Heat waves distorted the image through the scope. Insects flitted and flew about, crossing the view like swarming enemy fighter planes.

The man watched as he sipped slowly from the hydration bladder on his back.

The mid-August Texas sun had roasted everything for the past 10 hours, peaking at 108 degrees just after mid day, making it hard to even breathe normally. The dial on the man's small thermometer now only read a mere 90 balmy degrees.

Sweat still trickled down his brow and managed to avoid his frequent swabbing with the camouflage bandanna. Plunging below his eyebrows to sting at his eyes.

Fifteen more minutes.

The sun was getting lower and lower, and in just fifteen minutes or so the shade of the big rock to his Right would settle over his body and offer some small relief from the blistering heat.

Movement below. Something was happening now.
Eye back to scope, the man watched intently.

Studying.

Seeking anything he could use to determine the next destination of the group below, or what sort of contraband they might be transporting.

A dirty sweaty coyote rose from where he was sitting, stuffed his pistol into his waistband, and approached a couple of the IA's sitting all around the shaded wash.

IA's... shorthand for 'illegal aliens'.

People who sneaked into the Country, becoming criminals by that very act.

People who lived in fear of discovery, arrest, and deportation for their entire time here.

People from areas of Mexico that were experiencing the worst socioeconomic disaster ever known to them.

People who would risk death, and pay any price, to come into the United States. And in the end, would work for less than minimum wage.

People at the end of their ropes, desperate, and willing to take the chance. Even when possible death, rape, arrest, or even kidnapping into human slavery were real possibilities.

Good, salt of the earth people. The kind that had values and morals, but were overcome with desperation to the point of committing this illegal act.

The big coyote stopped in front of the young woman. His sweat soaked back toward the observer's scope.

She sat wearily on a dead fallen tree, drinking from a plastic bottle of water. The first they had been given in several hours.

She was half of a 30-ish year old couple that had been too obviously hanging and sticking to the outer edge of the group, and seemed to be trying for invisibility.

Their little girl, who looked to be around 8 or 10 years old, sat under her fathers arm between her mother and father.

The coyote's words to her were unable to be heard from the long distance, but the look of horror on her face, the way she shook her head, the look of terror as he gestured toward the young girl, and the fear in her eyes were unmistakable.

The coyote suddenly reached out and grabbed her by her hair.

The father pushed the daughter behind him and tried to stand, but was knocked to the ground.

Several kicks from the big coyote landed on his chest and stomach, and the woman raised her hands and shouted something.

Too far.

The cries were just a muffled wailing sound by the time it reached the man behind the scope.

The man was jerked up by his hair and set back on the dead tree trunk. A pistol pointing at his daughter before he even finished floundering to gain his balance. The overwhelmed father sank back, clasped his hands in a praying manner, and began what could only have been begging.

Looking back to the woman and speaking, the coyote pointed to the ground in front of him. She began crying as she slowly moved to kneel before him.

The father looked away, apparently once again thinking of some sort of attack. Then the other coyote again pointed his pistol at the child and gestured.

The father slumped visibly, then hugged the little girl's face to his chest to shield her eyes. He took one last look at the spectacle of his wife and the coyote, and ducked his own face to avoid watching.

Reaching up, she hesitantly moved her hands to his mid section. Evidently unfastening his belt and dirty jeans, because she next lowered them and his underwear to his knees. She leaned in and moved her face to his groin.

The others in the group ignored the scene, just happy they were not the ones chosen to be molested or beaten this time around.

Behind the scope the man was disgusted and angry. He caressed the safety on the big rifle, but restrained himself.

He had to swallow his bile and watch her endure the abuse, and it didn't sit well with him at all.

His goal was the trucks that the group was awaiting, and discovery of the location that those trucks were heading to.

The coyote was brutal, grabbing the woman's long black hair and forcefully humping into her face. Raping her until finally his ass could be seen tightening and clenching through the scope.

Throwing his head back, he held her to his crotch with both hands. Her arms flapped outward like a bird attempting to fly, and she slapped at his thighs to try and make him release his hold on her.
And then it was over.

He shoved her backwards into the dirt, then pulled up his pants as she turned and wretched. Puking up his scum, and unfortunately all the meager water she had drank.

The scumbag turned to his cohort and spoke, laughing, then gestured to the woman.
Thankfully, the other man looked at her a moment and then just shook his head.

The coyote suddenly reached into his pocket. He pulled out and answered a satellite phone.

Something must have been about to happen, as he then began pacing and waving his arms as he talked, shouting at the group.

Within moments, Two large yellow rental trucks appeared over the distant hill. Approaching the location of the group on the dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

Within just a few short minutes they had stopped, all the men and women were loaded into the backs, and they were moving again. Headed in the direction of the small town 25 miles away.

The man behind the scope was busy. Watching. Taking pictures as fast as the digital camera attachment on the scope could handle.

He zoomed in on the markings and tag numbers, as well as the faces of everyone he could.

As the trucks pulled away the observer stayed hidden.

And when the trucks rounded a curve, and dropped over a hill, the coyote turn to walk South toward the river.

He had a thick envelope in his pocket, and his sexual desire had been sated for a while. He hoped the group waiting South of the river had some young teen girls in it, or perhaps even a couple of young boys. Didn't matter either way to him, he would enjoy them, and their loud screams, regardless.

He stopped momentarily to wipe the sweat from his eyes and empty the remainder of a water bottle.

He barely caught a flash of something reflecting the waning sun to his left, and dropped the bottle. Quickly, he pulled out his binoculars. Scanning the hills in that direction.

Too late.

Suddenly, halfway up the side of a distant hill, he saw a large puff of dust from under a bush.

He thought he maybe should duck or fall flat on the ground, but that thought never made it from his brain to his muscles.

A single custom loaded 700 grain hollow-point .50 BMG round exploded through his sternum. Heart, lung, muscle tissue, skin, and spinal fragments were virtually pulverized and obliterated, mixing with his blood into the dark pink mist which sprayed out from his back.

Slowly the coyote fell backward, like a tall tree felled by loggers. And he lay still in the South Texas dirt as the booming report of the big rifle was identified and washed over his ebbing consciousness.

One more shot rang out. The coyote's crotch literally vaporized, and the body was flung backward almost a foot across the blood stained dirt.

Then silence.

Within moments of the second shot, Tommy Gunn was on his feet.

Sprinting to the customized Honda ATC, he fired the machine up.

Strapping the big rifle to the handlebar mounted rifle rack, he raced East-ward toward the dust trails being left by the Two trucks.

Reaching the dirt road without trouble, he gunned the engine to close the gap before they made it to the pavement Five miles away.

Lighter and more nimble, the ATC closed on them easily. The 750cc engine swap allowed the machine to reach speeds up to 95 mph. The barely used Five gallons of fuel meant he wouldn't likely lose them anytime soon.

He also knew they were headed right toward the old service station and diner, where his own truck was parked.

He was within 150 yards of the trucks when they turned Right, still East-ward, onto the pavement of the 2 lane highway. Tommy crossed the road without stopping, swung a wide loop, and rode up the ramp into the back of his truck.

A 1997 Chevrolet C3500 long-bed crew-cab Dually, with the 6.5 Diesel that he had paid a marine engine shop to 'bullet proof' by rebuilding it the way it should have come from the factory.

Grabbing the rifle, sliding the ramp into the bed, and closing the tailgate, he was pulling onto the road in a slight cloud of black exhaust smoke, in under 2 minutes. And was gaining steadily on the trucks. He was within 50 yards of the Two rental trucks in under 6 minutes.

He'd already fired up the camera systems to record forward, sideways, and to the rear.

A bank of frequency scanners and recorders searched for any signals as he drove.

PAY DIRT!!

A cell phone call was picked up, and the recorders kicked in. A short conversation, but enough to glean the information he needed. He now knew the trucks' destination.

Tommy gassed on the big diesel, passing the slower trucks and charging ahead. Big pickups driving fast on Texas back roads was so common that the trucks' drivers and passengers didn't give him a second glance.

* * * * * * * *

Tommy watched through the viewfinder of a digital camera, attached to a big spotting scope, as the trucks pulled through the large roll-up dock door of a large metal warehouse. Then the doors were closed blocking further observation.

He smiled. He had located a key staging and distribution point. The cartels would have killed him just for looking for it... if they had known.

Satisfied with what he now knew, he walked stealthily back to his truck, climbed in, and turned the big pickup toward home. Mentally planning for his next move.

Chapter 1

Thomas Jefferson Gunn. Born August 17^th, Age 35. 5'8” tall. Thick but muscular 200 pound build. Dark brown hair. Hazel eyes. His heritage was Choctaw Indian & South Louisiana “coon ass” Cajun.
An eclectic mix that yielded some interesting personality traits and preferences.

Current occupation: Special Agent, tracker, and scout for an interdiction task force, assigned to locate and report on movement of humans and drugs by the cartels.

Tommy was not actually a Native Texan. His parents moved to Silverspur Texas when he was 2 years old.

His father, Thomas R., had always been a self proclaimed 'Patriot', and huge fan of the American founding fathers. Thomas Jefferson in particular, due to his outspoken and often fanatical beliefs about our fledgling Nation.

The senior Gunn could almost quote the former Presidents' writings and antics as if he himself penned the words and was eyewitness to the deeds.

After returning to the States from “the Nam”, he developed a serious mistrust of Government, politicians in particular. And that dislike fueled his passion for Survival-ism. What 21^st Century survivalists prefer to call “prepping” in order to escape the critical eye of liberals who counted survivalist the same as the words 'militia' or 'weirdo'.

His little home town, Silverspur, was named after the former mining town of Silverspur England. One of the nearby towns to it back over there was ironically 'Texas', in the Inglewood Shire about 24 miles to the west.

Silver was discovered in the original Silverspur way back in 1890, when a farm worker noticed an outcrop of mineralized quartz. He was familiar with existing copper mining activity in the district and formed a small syndicate to work the find. Returns were indifferent, the claim was sold.

Fearing destruction of farming and grazing, a group of residents had sold their holdings for a nice profit and decided to emigrate to America.
They left Silverspur, arrived in the United States a month later, and immediately headed West.
They ended their journey in the cattle and oilfield strewn landscape of Southwest Texas, and founded a town which they nostalgically named 'Silverspur'.

Thomas Senior was drawn to this area of the 'Lone Star' almost 70 years later by the cheap land prices and high paying oil jobs during the Carter oil crisis.

Tommy lives the same simple life as they did, on the land his parents left him when they died. Nothing flashy or extravagant. Maybe some expensive toys and hobbies, but to the untrained eye he was just another local yokel redneck working stiff.

Tommy's nondescript 1970's 3 bedroom 'brick & stick' ranch style house sits on 5 acres.

Red brick, white trim, and a recently replaced light gray metal roof.

The interior remains as close to the way his mother had decorated it as it could be. Family heirlooms and keepsakes filled the spaces.

His only major changes had been when he took over the master bedroom. He had remodeled the master bath, and replaced the old queen bed with a modern foam Kalifornia king.

Outside, he had also added a back patio cover, under which he put a 6 person size hot tub, and a custom grill/smoker.

His nearest neighbor is almost 5 miles down the road.

A solar system with backup battery banks provides 100% off-grid power to both the house, and a 30' X 40' metal shop building. And a 25kw diesel generator is on standby for any glitches that may require it.

A 500 gallon above ground diesel tank made sure the genny would have plenty to drink, less any fuel he might have to use for the Jeep or Truck in a pinch.

Water is provided by a 1500' well that taps into a sweetwater aquifer.

The sewerage collects into a 1000 gallon septic system.

The quarter mile long driveway passes between Two barbed wire fences, and across Three cattle guards that can be raised so that they become draw-gates over deep ditches.

Each fence post around the property is color coded on the top 12 inches to also serve as a range distance markers from the house.

An automatic steel security gate at the main road serves to let anyone know they are not welcome unless invited. But opens with either remotes in his vehicles, or with a keypad that allows multiple codes for different people to be able to use a personal pin code.

In the “back yard”, if you can call it that, is his pistol and sub-gun range. Targets of all sizes and at distances from 15 to 60 yards are spread and scattered all about.

Looking 1000 yards beyond the back of his property, across his fence and on some neighboring land, that has been owned for generations by someone up in the Northeast that has likely forgotten all about it, sits a target array for his rifle shooting practice. He can shoot at his choice of steel targets, set up at 50 yard intervals, from 100 to 1000 yards out.

Underneath the concrete slab of the metal shop building, is a 20' X 20' underground shelter. Fully stocked with everything a person might need. One year of supplies for Six people.

With only Five of the originally intended occupants still living, it would be a comfortable stay.

TV and Internet arrive through satellite, and phones are Cellular/Satellite hybrids courtesy of the government. An antenna array on a 75' tower helps with some of the more 'eccentric' radio traffic and monitoring he needed to do.

In the house's carport sits a white, nondescript, 2013 Kia Soul.

Stored inside the metal shop are his other toys.
A 1990 Jeep YJ, completely rebuilt and customized, that has a 150 HP Turbo-Diesel engine.
A Honda VTX1800 Motorcycle.
An ultralight airplane folded nicely against the back wall.
And even an air boat powered by a 300hp Continental aircraft engine.

Along with these toys are a various assortment of tools and sundries he has picked up or inherited through the years, as well as his mowers and a 1965 Ford tractor he rebuilt with the senior Gunn as a teenager.

The well insulated and climate controlled shop makes puttering with his toys and hobbies a real joy.

“Off site” Tommy maintained a 12' X 12' locker at a secure storage facility located inside the boundary fences of a military installation.

Here he kept some of his 'work tools' that were better off housed inside the guarded military facility.

And he also 'rented' Two stalls at a local Horse Boarding facility, where he also kept his 2 horse trailer parked. And where the family of his best friend lives, and scrapes out a meager income.

An appaloosa gelding, and a paint gelding, both enjoy being pampered and spoiled on a daily basis by Two of the cutest little 12 year old half-Latina sweethearts that have ever existed.

The girls also ride and shoot like little Annie Oakley's, courtesy of their late father.

He was taken from Mia and Tia, and their mother “Shasta”, during a late night shift at his job as a Border Patrol officer.

Killed in cold blood by the lead coyote as he was passing out energy bars and ice cold bottles of sports-ade to the famished and nearly dehydrated people he had just apprehended.

Kenneth Granados died with his head laying in the lap of a 40 year old Mexican woman, while her brother tried to stop his bleeding. Tended by the same people he had been there to take into custody and send back to Mexico.

Their efforts failed.

As he was dying, the coyote was fleeing in his patrol vehicle, with the 400+ pounds of methamphetamine which the group of Illegal Aliens had been forced at gunpoint to carry across the river and border.

The good Samaritans tending to him knew Ken well. It was their 2^nd time to be apprehended by him in as many years, and he had treated them very good each time.

Ken had a well known reputation along this part of the border as a “Good Man” who cared for the people as much as he did the law. He was always kind and understanding, and never allowed any of his apprehensions to be mistreated or denied help if needed.

Once he had even come to blows with an overzealous BP officer that was on loan from another State because the guy had bashed an IA for no good reason. It 'cost' Ken a reprimand, and 2 weeks at home with his family. A good trade in reality.
But the story had spread like wildfire, and Ken was the one who the IA's hoped would catch them, if they had to be caught.

But the worthless coyote didn't care about human life.

Ken left behind his wife, Shastain “Shasta” Granados, and twin 9 year old Daughters. Mariana “Mia” Granados, and Tiara “Tia” Granados.

And among the many co-workers and other friends, a man named Thomas “Tommy” Gunn.

Kenneth's funeral procession had almost 200 law enforcement vehicles and officers. 300+ motorcycle club riders, wearing several dozen different “patches”. And over 12 miles of Civilian attendee vehicles. Mostly Mexican-Americans who respected him.

Tommy rode his big VTX 1800 in the front of the long throng of bikers. Not able to compromise himself, or his cover, by joining the LEO's, or endanger the girls by joining the family in the limo.
Tia and Mia had to wait until they got home that afternoon before they could soak “Uncle Tommy's” shirt with their tears.

And later that night, after the sweet little angels were asleep, Shasta sat on his lap in Ken's favorite recliner and repeated the girls' performance, solo, while Tommy's own heart broke.

Tommy, gutted and heartbroken by the useless and violent death, almost gave up his lifestyle and his job over the incident. He was sorely tempted to leave the State and work elsewhere. But Shasta convinced (or more begged) him to continue his work and remain here, near them, and so he did. Both out of his love for the girls, and as a duty to his best friend.

The fact that he had vowed to kill the murdering coyote at his first opportunity was information he told no one. But many knew of his quest to find the useless POS.

Tommy had searched every database he could access, examined hundreds of thousands of photographs, and exhausted thousands of his own man hours in his search for 'El Jefe'. But he was no closer than he had been at the start. Not even the coyote's real name was known, only his nickname... and his face.

And now it was Three and a Half years later.
The man who pulled that trigger, and forever changed the lives of one man and Three sweet ladies, had moved up in the cartel organization.

He was now known to be “border hopping” with impunity, convinced he didn't have anything at all to worry about other than his cartel duties. His real name and identity was still a mystery to U.S. Law Enforcement.

The killer was living high on the hog. Plenty of cash to spend, fancy clothes, custom boots, only the finest food and drink. He flew in private planes, drove fancy vehicles, and took his pick of the beautiful women that he met socially, and those that he had snatched from the ranks of the trafficked illegals for his own twisted pleasures.

No, he had not lost his appetite for raping the helpless innocent young girls that had paid for his protection and guidance across the border. And to those in the trade, it was just part of the price they must endure to be smuggled across.

Tommy sat in his 'home office' and studied the faces of the men that he photographed at the warehouse. He wasn't sure, but one image showed promise of finally being his quarry. It would be a shame to move in too soon or too late and miss his target.

Tommy needed Information. And he had just the plan to let him get it.

Across town in a plain brick building, a phone rang. A man's voice on the answering machine.

“American Protective Insurance. This is Agent Barnes. We are currently out of the office, but will return at 9 am tomorrow. Please leave your name, a callback number, and a brief description of how can I help you, at the tone.”

BEEP

Tommy spoke, “This is Mr. Hunter again. My sales meetings today went better than expected. We can expect to cover 12 management level and at least 10 to 14 laborer level employees when this contract goes through. Full coverage on all of them.

But this one is time sensitive, the upper management may be leaving town soon to attend a meeting at their main office. I will E-Mail you the particulars and call you back in the morning with more details.”

Click

Tommy always felt a little like James Bond when he talked in code like that. But the facade provided by the 'insurance company' was essential. Discovery could mean death to any operatives, as well as their loved ones.

Fire bombings of CBP, and especially any discovered 'Task Force' offices, were also commonplace.

He e-mailed a complete report, including a zip file of the photos.

Hard copies would be dropped in the 'night payment' slot at the insurance firm.

In the morning, Barnes would have them by the time he sat down with his first cup of coffee.

He entered the GPS coordinates of the warehouse, and a few other parameters, into a special database. Then added the codes that would initiate a task order and result in a high altitude reconnaissance drone being launched to orbit the location, taking pictures and video for the next 24 hours.

He also checked his bank balances while he was online. His last months pay had indeed hit the main account.
The four other accounts, totaling just under $500,000, were also swelled a bit by the interest accrued, as he had expected.

He transferred everything over $100,000 from those Four accounts into his main account.

New balance: $243,680.

He then made a 'payment transfer' to another account number that wasn't even in his name. One that he knew well.

$43,680 buys a lot of clothes and food and other girly desires.

5 miles across the County there was a woman and 2 little ladies that would soon benefit from the funds.

That done, he closed down the computers, and secured the safe room.
Shasta would complain and fuss, again. But it mattered not to him.

The money was almost useless to him if he couldn't spoil her and the girls with it.

Not like anyone else was banging on his door to apply for his generosity. Or his love.

He stripped off his dirty smelly clothing and tossed it into the washer, and plodded naked to his bathroom.

The hot water in the custom built shower beat down on him and drove the soreness out of his muscles. He could have easily fit 4 'friends' in there with him to help with his cleaning duties. If he had 4 'friends' he would have liked to be naked and wet with.

The soap washed away the stink and grime of laying in a shallow depression in the hot desert for 4 days. His numerous bug bites were soothed by the cleansing.

As he washed down his body, the slick soapy washcloth felt good on his skin, too good in a particular place.

Without preliminaries or warning, a thick 9” problematic area sprang up.
No wonder though. It had been over Seven and a half months since Maria, his girlfriend of 12 months, had took off back up to College Station so she could finish Veterinarian school.

Tommy dropped the soapy washcloth and used just his hands and the bar of soap to 'wash' the affected area. Thoughts and images of Maria's sexy body, and what she always did to him with that body in this very shower, made the 'washing' a short task.
As his spent lust ran down the drain, he felt relaxed and became tired.

He though about a joke he had heard once as the last of the water gurgled in the shower drain.

He chuckled, 'Draino Babies.'

Rinsed and dried, and with a fresh application of deodorant and cologne, he turned off the lights and crawled into his King sized bed. The high thread count sheets felt good on his naked body.

His last thoughts were of the Maria situation.

The good times, which maybe weren't really quite as good as he would have preferred.

The bad times.

And also the sadness that he hadn't so much as heard from her since Two weeks after she left.

Eight months, less a week or so, without so much as a howdy do from her. It was not a good indicator that he ranked very high on the scale of importance in her life.

When he tried to think of them in future tense, he couldn't make his imagination create the same level of love and happiness as his parents had enjoyed.

And she'd never be content in this house for sure. She had quietly loathed his home, and his lifestyle, and it showed often.

Before reality set in, causing the usual depression and sadness, he thankfully fell asleep.

Chapter 2

The alarm, special ordered because it was an 'ultra loud' model, pierced the sound dam of his eardrums and bored into his head. He slapped it off and looked wearily at the time. 8:15 am.

His ears still ringing a bit from the past 15 minutes of the buzzer sounding before he actually woke enough to hear it.

He was late getting started already.

He quickly donned his usual attire. Clothing that changed very little, other than colors and such, except to adjust for seasonal temperatures.

Even his 'fancy go-to-town' attire was usually just a nicer, newer, or more dressier version of the same attire.

Head to toe he wore an old straw Palm hat with Gus crease. A thin cotton Blue plaid long sleeve western pearl button. A plain faded royal blue cotton neckerchief rolled and slightly wet around his neck. Faded worn-in jeans with a plain brown leather belt at the waist. And a pair of well broken-in plain Brown leather Justin cowboy boots.

A .380acp Ruger LCP pistol went into his pants pocket, a Colt M1911A1 .45acp pistol was holstered on his right side, and Two extra 8 round magazines on the left side. A Mora 'Bushcraft Black' knife in a custom leather sheath occupied the 8 o'clock position over his left hip.

He bypassed cooking and opted for a Diet soda until he could get into town. He knew the perfect diner for a good meal this morning.
The Dually would sit this trip out. He fired up the Jeep, and headed into town.

The deep knobby tread of the 'mud & terrain' 33's made a nice roaring hum on the paved road as he eased along at 65mph, thoughts and plans about the upcoming raid occupying his mind.

Many people hated the square headlights on the Jeep YJ, but Tommy liked the way they looked at night. It was harder to identify the Jeep just from the headlights.
The wider stance made it a little more stable on and off the road, and slightly more roomy inside.

Taking off the doors and the soft top side panels afforded shade and SOME protection from any unexpected showers, but mainly provided air flow that actually made the 90 degree temperature feel somewhat less overbearing.

He made a fast stop in at a plain brick building, to drop off his 'policy papers' as he called them, and he was relatively free to just hang out and relax for a few hours.

Sorta.

He had another reason for his choice this morning. More than just eating or visiting an old friend.

He wanted to sit in relative comfort while not seeming conspicuous as he watched the comings and goings from the cartel warehouse. He knew just the place too.

Turning the Jeep toward that part of town, he wondered how much shit he was gonna get for his long failure to show up there.

Tommy saw the only entrance to the Silverspur Industrial park coming up on his left, but he instead turned right. Pulling into the parking lot of an older diner. Backing into a parking space out front, he angled the Jeep so his dash cam was pointed toward the intersection.

The tinkle of the bell over the front door when he opened it to step inside brought an immediate and loud, “Hey, Tommy! Oh my god! Long time no see!” from the 35 year old redhead.

She was wearing a classic waitress' dress and apron.

Her ample 38 DD cleavage on full display to anyone who might want to ogle it (and maybe tip a little heavier).

Fit toned legs that belied how much time she spent walking and standing on them, were visible below the almost mid-thigh length pink skirt. Her white toothed smile set off by reddish pink lipstick, which went well with the rest of the overdone makeup.

The squeak of the grease stained soles on her white trainers as they made contact with the over waxed tile floor sounded audibly as she walked briskly toward him.

“Hey Tammy darlin'. How's tricks?” He replied. Just before she hugged him warmly.

She laughed as she broke the hug, reached, and handed him a menu. Then said, “Same ol' same ol'. Just sit anywhere ya want sweetie.”

A quick scan, and a nod to the only other person in the dining area. An older man in his 70's, dressed almost the same as Tommy, just more dated and worn clothing.

Tommy added his hat to the very similar one already on the rack by the door. Then he walked to his 'usual seat', a booth at the far corner that put his back to the wall and faced the door.

The tiles underneath the table, and the edges of the table itself, showed the wear of thousands of boots and elbows. Tommy himself had likely worn a few millimeters off this very table over the years.

She continued talking to him the whole time.
“Yeah. Business has tapered off a lot ever since the oil companies had their leases canceled by this liberal President and his crew of ass-clowns. Things have been really bad slow.”

She added in a fake sultry voice, “And as far as tricks go, lets just say that it has been a few days. Doesn't even qualify as 'few and far between'. Not since Jerry moved back to Louisiana eight months ago. I never thought he'd just up and skedaddle on me like that when the wells were capped and the rigs stacked. Been mighty dry lately. Mighty, mighty dry.” And she was now standing over him with a pad and pen, writing down his order.

“I definitely know that feeling, since Maria left.” he said without the humor.

Tammy just stood, watching him read over the menu as she wrote.

'Two eggs, over easy. Bacon. Grits. Two biscuits. Side bowl of gravy. And a large glass of OJ.'

He didn't look up as she finished writing and let her eyes roam over him approvingly.

“Ya know honey, maybe you should invite me out for dinner and some fun one night. We could probably put our heads together and figure out a solution to all this 'drought' we've been having.”

His eyes wandered up to hers and he grinned at her little smirk. Then he watched her large shapely ass wiggle and sway as she turned and walked away from him. “Think about it baby. That's what friends are for, right?” she shot over her shoulder.

She pinned the small sheet of paper to the order wheel and shouted at the kitchen, “Order Up!”

And from the back, instead of the gruff voice of Leroy... “I'm on it!”

A sweet voice that floated musically to his ears.

He looked closely and tried to catch a glimpse of the owner of that voice, but only managed a brief flash of straight black hair.

Tammy returned a minute later with a tall glass of Orange Juice, which she sat before him. As she placed silverware on a napkin, he asked, “Where's Leroy today?” And he slid the silverware to the right of where his plate would go while trying to seem disinterested in the owner of that intriguingly sweet sounding voice.

“Oh, that's right, you haven't been in for a few months.” she said with a pointedly disapproving look.

“He's back up in Huntsville again. Failed his damn drug test. Got violated by his parole officer. Same ol' story.”

She gestured toward the kitchen, “Got a new little senorita for the time being. She's really good. Always on time. Good cook. Great English. No boyfriend or husband hanging around all the time, or constantly callin' here after her.”

Tammy lowered he voice a little. Not much, but a little.

“She snapped up this job so quick that I wondered if she had actually taken it for a minute. And she even took it for my first salary offer, didn't even try to talk me up.”

She raised her voice to a regular talking volume, convinced that was enough to not be heard. “Not sure her papers are 100% legit though. They're all from up in Oklahoma, if you know what I mean? But I was in a tight spot and needed help, and she was willin'.”

She shrugged, “Anyways, I figure she'll be a goner in a couple more months at the most anyway. She's too young and pretty to not have a dozen or more young men drooling and scheming to sweep her away from this dump of a town. Ain't no minimum wage job like this worth hangin' around here for.”

He grunted affirmatively as he kept studying the menu, but was making detailed mental notes of her every word.

She added, “Name's Nia. You can meet her when she gets your food ready.”

He realized what had happened, yet again, at what she just said. He looked at Tammy and asked, “What food? I didn't even order yet, honey buns.”

Tammy playfully smacked him on his broad shoulder with her pen and grinned at the pet name. “Yep. Still sweet as any that you'll ever find.”

Then she laughed. “I figured your usual order. Was I wrong?”

He set the menu down on the edge of the table.

“Well, No.” he chuckled. “But I would like having the option of going with a different choice someday. If and when my taste buds suggest it.”

The old man had been just sipping his coffee, grinning and shaking his head at their banter. He stood, dropped a Five on the counter, and slowly walked to the door. As he donned his hat and waved, she called to him.

“Thanks for coming in Mr. James. See ya tomorrow?”

He nodded, “Sure thing Tammy. Have a good day sweetie.”

Then he nodded, winked, and added, “See ya round Tommy boy. Take it easy on these poor neglected womenfolk.” And he laughed as he pushed through the door and stepped into the hot sun.

Tommy watched the old timer climb into a nice, well kept, blue and white 1974 Chevrolet C10 pickup. The old engine rumbled to life after only a short bump of the starter. The engine thrumming loudly through the straight pipes and short cherry bomb glass packs.

“Blueys” as the old man had always called them for some reason.

30 years ago the old codger had removed and replaced the entire stock exhaust on that truck at the old gas station, and the best shop in Silverspur, that he had owned and operated. It was located right down this very road a quarter mile or so.

Tommy's dad had brought the boy into town that day, and they were gassing up when the old guy fired the 350 up for the first time, following the modifications.

The old pickup still sounded the same. Well, maybe a bit louder now, but the same as it did to him all those years ago.

Tommy remembered those days fondly. Thinking back he remembered that was the same year he had first met Ken.

They began Kindergarten together that September. Next month would be 30 years.

Schools used to let out first part of May, and didn't resume til Labor Day.

But that was before liberals brought in teachers unions, before 'common core' had gutted any chance of actually learning true facts instead of revisionist gobbledy goop, and before the entire education system had turned to an indoctrination platform for socialists and communism.

Now kids graduated high school not knowing how to balance a freakin' check book, or even write a check. And their lack of common life skills turned them into emotional wrecks when they failed in the smallest of everyday tasks.

Ken and Tommy had managed to find a reason to square off with each other, and had fought like Two young wildcats on that very first day.

Well.. as much as Two 5 year old boys can fight like wildcats.

His ass tingled a little at the memory of Principle Skinner's paddle.

After that first day though, they become inseparable buddies, carrying on the friendship through and beyond their terms at Silverspur High School, until 3 years and a couple months ago.
Tommy felt a tightness in his chest, and a lump in his throat as he thought of his best friend.

In fact, Tommy and Ken had sat right here in this very booth and been served by Tammy's mom, Ms. Becky, on many occasions. Even on weekends, when they double dated because Tommy had an old beater car to drive and Ken didn't.

This was their 'hangout' of preference.

One of those dates had seen Tommy with a currently unmemorable girl, and Ken with the shapely sexy Tammy herself. Although the Two never actually got serious. Tammy was too close a friend, more like a sister to them actually, and neither of the Three would have risked their friendships like that.

Tammy had been added to their little group in the third grade.

A fifth grade boy had shoved her down and was teasing her about the sack lunch she brought every day. He made out like her food wasn't as good as the cafeteria, and she had told him off smartly, tearing into him about her lunch coming from this very diner.

The older, larger boy shoved her and she had landed on her butt in the wet dirt of a half dry mud hole. Not quite mud, but still wet enough to stain and make an ugly mess of her pretty pink dress.

His big mistake was doing it in front of Tommy.

Nearly half the size of the bigger kid, Tommy waded into him. Landing punches and kicks that almost would have been effective on a smaller boy.

The bigger kid knocked Tommy down, and started to say something to him. But he never got those words out.

Quick as a flash, Ken had jumped on the bigger boys back and had him in a choke hold. His left arm around the bigger boys throat, and his legs wrapped around his waist. And Ken was punching him in the ear and jaw with his right fist.

Tommy had quickly gotten to his feet and re-joined the fray. Tackling the kid by wrapping up his legs and making him fall.

Once on the ground, the Two younger boys had somewhat of a better chance, and they had seized it with a vengeance.

Tommy's dad used to tell the story, and every time he laughed loudly about how the Two little guys had stood up to the bully and 'whooped his ass but good' that day.

Along with the tingle in his butt from the principals paddle, Tommy also remembered the sting of the black eye and the rusty taste of his bloody nose.

But the Two boys wore their identical left eye shiners with pride, every day, until they faded.

Unlike the 'legend' of that encounter that the other third graders told.. that had Tommy and Ken fighting with the skill of Dave Carradine from 'Kung Fu', and vanquishing all manner of brutes.. the Two had several bruises and scrapes from the encounter.

Tommy smiled at the memory.
Another factoid was that a couple days later, young Tammy had delivered the very first kiss with a 'real girl' ever to the pair. Her way of thanking them for standing up in her defense.

From that time until now, Tammy had been 'one of the guys' and a close friend. Even when at age 12, it was already VERY evident she was in no way a 'guy'.

Maybe Tammy wasn't so far off base. The memory of her shapely teenage ass and large boobs was nice, REAL nice. And she hadn't changed all that much since, just the normal womanly stuff that all maturing women eventually experience.

Yep. Mature and ripened, with none of the spoilage some gals get.

Well, ALMOST.

She'd had a rough time after school, and went through men like a fat kid goes through chocolate cupcakes. But she had never broken contact or stopped being their friend. No matter what ass hat she took up with.

His reverie was instantly smashed and wiped away by that sweet voice, right at his shoulder.

“Your order sir.”

His breath caught, and he felt a little twinge in the center of his chest as her voice penetrated his ears.

And as he sat back for the plates to be tabled, SHE stepped to the end of the table, and he looked up.

(my god, she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. gotta talk to her. don't screw this up.)

Maybe 25 years old. Bright and smiling eyes. Long black hair. Dark brown, almost black eyes.

Skin the color of heavily creamed coffee... The shade women pay tanning salons billions of dollars each year to obtain, and still fall short of achieving.

No makeup on her gorgeous face. And a sweet genuine pearly smile behind lips you'd wade through brier patches, barefoot, in your skivvies, just to kiss.

A cute little nose.

Medium build, femininely soft but also naturally muscular, like a girl who did a lot of hard work. He guessed (rightly) she had 34 C tits, but they were not openly displayed by her choice of clothing. And a slim waist, flaring to rounded sexy hips.

She kept glancing at him quickly and shyly, then looking away. And her little Mona Lisa smile never faded from her lips.

Yeah, she knew he was looking, and didn't seem to mind at all.

Tommy sputtered a “Thank You Miss.” at her, and she replied, “You are welcome, sir.”

He thought quickly, for a change, and managed to speak before she stepped away, “Not sir. Just Tommy.” and stuck out his hand.

She took his hand and he almost didn't shake it at all, just kinda held it. He only squeezed it gently and held it softly while he sorta wiggled his wrist.

“Okay then 'Just Tommy'. I'm NOT 'Miss' either. I am Nialohma. Nia for short. I mean, my name is... Nia. Nia Davis.” She sputtered out to him, sounding almost flustered.

“I'm not from here originally, I'm from Durant Oklahoma. Moved to Silverspur 10 months ago to help my Aunt for a while.” She added. (why am I babbling my whole life history. he just wants his food)

“I am very pleased to meet you, Nia Davis from Durant Oklahoma. I sure hope you like it here enough to stick around and let me bore you with my jokes and wild stories. This Two-goat town is in very short supply of beautiful young ladies.” (Shit. That wasn't cheesy and obvious at all dumb ass.)

She blushed deep red and replied, “I mostly like it here a lot so far. Small town. Quiet. And I have a good job. Even though I didn't negotiate a good enough wage out of Tammy for anyone to actually live off of.”

“But I don't really need much since I live with my Aunt. The work load is just fine by me. And this job is actually close to my Aunt's house so it is convenient for me to walk, since I haven't got a car. And Ms. Tammy is just a wonderful boss. Treats me like family. I love her to death.” (oh god, I'm rambling again.)

Tommy grinned bemusedly at her.

She finally took a breath, “And yes, Mister Tommy Gunn, I would very much like to hear all of your stories and jokes. I have wanted to for some time now, ever since I... Uh, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to prattle on like that.” she blushed and looked downward.

(what? she's actually interested in me?)

Tommy asked, surprised, “For 'some time now'? I don't understand. We just now met each other? And how is it you happen to know my last name?”

She laughed nervously and explained in a rush, almost without breathing, “I saw a picture when I first started here and asked Tammy about who all was in it. I recognized her, but you guys....”

“Anyway, She explained about y'alls friend the Border Patrol Officer. Ken was it? Yeah, Ken. Anyway she said that was him in the picture by her, and the other guy was Tommy Gunn. You. And she also said the 3 of you guys was really close friends and stuck together all through school. So, I've actually been kinda wondering when you might would be coming in, and if I would get to meet you. And now I have.”

He smiled at her rushed and yet thorough story, and nodded, “Sounds legit.”

She giggled, it was the sound of happiness and pure genuineness, all swirled up with sexy. And Tommy loved the sound of it.

“I'll be over there if you need anything. I have to wrap silverware in case we get a lunch rush.”

She looked down between them, and added with some mirth, “But I will need my hand. You'll have to ask my Aunt for that before you can keep it.” And added a wink and a flirty smile.

Tommy realized with her words that he still held her hand. He blushed furiously, and sputtered an apology.

She smiled sweetly and said it was 'totally okay', then turned, and walked back toward the kitchen.

'MY GOD WHAT AN ASS!' He thought to himself. Then felt very lecherous for perving on this sweet girl like that for some reason.

But it was.

That delectable derrière was rounded like a half basketball stuck to her backside, shaped perfectly for use as a nightly pillow, after spending a couple hours kissing and worshiping it of course.

Not too small, or too large, but just right for her 5'4” (?) frame.

True perfection in motion.

Just a little natural sway and bounce as she walked, not like the practiced and perfected intentional 'swish' of Tammy's ample derrière. Nia's was just... natural and perfect.

Her black t-shirt was tied in a knot at her right hip causing the delightful sight to be displayed most effectively in the skin tight stretch jeans she wore. Kinda like yoga pants, but thicker and with pockets and such.

The form fitting article of clothing also revealed 2 more things he found incredibly sexy. One was the nice gap between her perfectly toned thighs, tapering to a close about halfway to her knees, which themselves gave way to nice muscular calves.

Second was the outline of her bikini panties, the lines of which could barely be made out below the pants, but easily picked out by Tommy.

He didn't like 'thongs' and 'g-strings', preferring a girl who hid and teased him with her feminine wiles.

(think Susanna Hoffs of the Bangles, but Nia's breasts are slightly bigger)

He shook his head and picked up the silver to eat.

Tammy stood abruptly from where she had been seated behind the register, digging in the safe and scribbling on some papers, and then zipped a vinyl bag.
“Tommy, baby... Can I impose on you for a big favor?” she said. Too sweetly.

“I'll do my best.” he replied. “But you know my limited talent pool. Some things I excel at, some things I don't. And your office doesn't even have a door.”

He waggled his eyebrows and pasted a leering smile on his face.

Tammy laughed at his antics. “Nothing like that ya old horn-dog. But if you're not in a hurry, could you hang around here for another 30 minutes or so? I need to run this deposit to the bank, and I don't like to leave Nia by herself.”

He looked at her and grinned. “That's no favor at all. Of course I can, and I will. Take your time.”

Tommy thought, to spend 30 minutes more with Nia he would move the bank, on his back, to this very parking lot. Much less just sit here and eat.

“Thanks sweetie.” she said. Then as she picked up her purse she hollered over the sound of her car keys being grabbed, “Nia... I'm running to the bank. Tommy's gonna stay here til I get back.”

From the kitchen, “Okay Tammy.”

And she was out the door.

Tommy wondered briefly about Tammy's reluctance to leave Nia at the diner alone. Why was that a problem? Nothing ever happened in Silverspur, and Nia seemed as sweet and honest as they come.

Nia remained hidden from his view while he ate, doing whatever she did in the kitchen.

Tommy swiped a last little dab of gravy with a piece of his biscuit. Then washed it all down with the last of his OJ.

Nia asked him from across the room, “More juice?”

“No thanks Nia. I'm good.”

Was she watching him?

She came and began to clear the dishes.

He tried to hide the fact that he was watching her every move, taking in her beauty and graceful actions.

“Hey Nia, I have a 'special request' or Two, if you don't mind.”

She looked at him for a moment, studying his serious facial expression. Was she wrong about him? Was he about to make some lewd suggestive comment or request?

“Okay, what do you need?” She replied slowly.

“Well, I'd kinda like to ask about that picture you mentioned. Where did you see it?” He said.

She sighed slightly and relaxed, relieved he wasn't like some of the other men she had run into here in the diner.

“Oh, that. Okay, come with me. I will show you.”

He stood as she picked up his dishes, and gladly followed her, as he got to watch her backside all the way.

Oh, and nix the 5'5” height. She'd be lucky if she squeaked out an even 5 foot.

They went through the kitchen door, then she nodded off to one side into the small office. Nia dumped the dishes in the sink then returned and pointed to the wall beside the desk.
“There. That's the picture.”

Tommy's breath caught and a lump came up in his throat. It was a picture of Ken, Tommy, Tammy, ...and Susan fucking Williams. How did he ever forget her crazy selfish ass?

The picture was taken on the night he had been thinking of a little while ago. It was Junior Prom. They were all just 16 years old.

The picture was taken by Ms. Becky, using an old 35 mm insta-matic camera. One of MANY she snapped before they left for the event.

Susan wore a 'New York's finest fashions” sequined evening gown. In all honesty, she looked HOT. But she had spent so much time bitching to high heaven, and had so adamantly and flatly refused to agree to or follow along with the plans that the other Three people in the group wanted to do, that Tommy hadn't cared Two shits what she wore.
And truth known, she had worn that dress out of pure spite. An effort to thumb her nose at the Three and flaunt her daddy's money in their faces.

Even without having wads of cash to throw at a single nights clothing, the other Three were still dressed pretty good. Odd, but nice.

Tammy looked like a glamorous B-Western heroine in her skirt and fancy western blouse, complete with western boots and cowboy hat. She had looked VERY 'edible' that night. A teen guy's dream date, at least for Ken.

Too bad he wasn't even on her radar, or she on his.

Ken and Tommy looked like a cross between a Mariachi band and Marty Stuart impersonators in their classic country & western style suits, complete with all the fancy stitching and sequins on the jackets.

Their Black Resistol hats were the only thing they had dropped any serious money on, and even those were cheaper than a tux rental fee.

They had thrown about five hundred million bales of hay for old man Rutledge to get that money, or so it seemed, but the hats were the epitome of style. And in that year, there were plenty of new 'Western' movies to pick a hat style from.

Both Ken and Tommy liked the ones in the movie 'Silverado'.

Then a couple years layer, they were introduced to the 'gus' when the TV mini-series 'Lonesome Dove' was aired. Both adopted the style and never looked back.

Author's note:

(a mini-series was a week, or 2 week, length saga. Usually shown Monday through Friday nights on network television. Way back when TV wasn't silly assed liberal drivel and so-called 'reality', designed to indoctrinate instead of entertain)

The memory of that evening was one of Tommy's favorites.

He decided he needed to ask Tammy about whether she had any other pictures. Maybe she even had some he could get copies of.

He didn't water up, or choke, but he only just barely avoided it. The sounds and smells of the diner caused his memories to flood to the forefront. Memories of many happy nights spent in this place with his friends.

Then as he panned around the office, reliving the past, he spied something odd. The picture was affixed to the wall beside a big hanging calendar. One that showed 4 months at a time.

On each 3^rd Friday, Tammy had written 'Fire Insurance Due' and had the numbers '1500' below it with a little Tammy-fied squiggly invention of hers that he knew stood for dollars.

The next date was this coming Friday. Today was Monday. He had time to investigate and plan.

“I'm gonna snap a pic of this photo real quick.” he told Nia.

“Sure,” she said, “I don't imagine Tammy will care.”

He took a pic with his phone, capturing the calendar. Then stepped up and zoomed in, getting just the photo.

Looking at the photo as he put away his phone, those feelings welled up again. Without realizing it, his hand was drawn like steel to a magnet. He lightly touched his fingers to the picture.

“I sure do miss you.” He said softly under his breath.

He turned and found Nia looking at him, sad, almost like she wanted to cry.

“I'm sorry Tommy, I didn't mean to drag you back here and bring up something to cause you heartache.” Nia said softly.

Tommy sat down in the old squeaky office chair, and looked up at her pretty face. The bright smile wasn't present any more, and genuine concern and sadness had replaced it.

Nia looked down at him.

“She was very beautiful. I'm sorry if seeing that causes you bad feelings. I can tell she was special to you.”

Tommy looked at her confused a moment, then it dawned on him, and he laughed heartily. Her mistaken impression was just what he needed to break the funky sadness.

“No Nia, I think you misunderstand. That girl really and truly is of no consequence. Not since about 3 hours after that picture was taken.”
“In fact, there has never been anyone of consequence in my life. Nobody ever stuck around long enough.”

He chuckled and added, “There is still 'nobody of consequence', in fact. Not for almost 6 months now.”

(why did I feel obligated to add that information?)

She looked at him surprised, “Really? You looked so happy in the picture.”

He took a deep breath, “I was with my best friends. Ken and Tammy. They always made me laugh and brought me happiness.” He stood and gestured toward the door.

“Lets go out front and I will tell you all about it. You need to laugh a little and get that awesome gorgeous smile back on your face.”

Nia blushed and led the way. Already smiling.

Tommy grabbed a glass and scooped ice into it, then filled it himself with water.

They walked out front and sat at the table. Tommy wondered briefly why there were no customers at 9:45 am on a Monday, but shrugged it off.

He turned to Nia and looked into her inquisitive eyes. Then began.

“Okay. Here is the story of that fateful night Nia.”, he began dramatically.

She giggled at him, again causing that twinge in his chest.

“Ken and I had skipped school again and went on a week long hunting trip, so we didn't get to ask anyone to the prom until a whole week after it was announced. I struck out a few times, but then on the week of the prom I heard 'she' didn't have a date. I knew she was out of my league, both socially and economically, but I took a chance anyway and asked Susan Williams if she would go with me. Miss Vogue actually said yes.”

She laughed at his bad joke. Points gained.

“So anyway, Ken asked about a dozen girls and got shot down by every one. Then, a week before the prom, Judd Parker screwed up. Judd was sorta dating Tammy steady. In her mind, not his evidently.”

“Seems ol' Judd was out with his older brother and decided that a drunken party fling with the biggest slu... err... with the loosest girl in the senior class, was a great idea.”

“Since they were both plowed, they did the nasty right out in the open in front of god and everbody, and chose to do it on the hood of Brian Johnson's new Trans Am. And he wasn't very happy about the swirls in the paint, or the big dent.”

“So Monday morning he's at school bitching up a storm about it, and the word spreads like really fast. Small town and all. By the start of lunch Tammy had heard enough, and had a belly full of the stories and girls teasing her about it, so she had it out with Judd. Right there in the cafeteria. And by end of lunch period, she needed a new date.”

Nia was hanging on every word, nodding and shaking her head at the right moments, but never stopped looking at Tommy's face while he talked.

“Anyway, since we were all good friends, and had been a 'crew' since the third grade, even after we discovered that there was an opposite sex, Ken figured 'why not?' and asked Tammy right in the middle of American History class.”

“She figured we always had fun hanging out together, so why not? And the Ken/Tammy couple in that pic was formed. Platonic-ally that is.”

“And I had the pretty little preppy outsider as my date.”

He paused. Nia shook her head and asked, “So what happened then?”

“Well, we all decided to go 'cowboy fashion' instead of buying expensive dresses or renting tuxedos.”

“Ken had an uncle that was in a Country & Western band in the early 70's and we got those suits in the picture for free. Just some alterations were required. Tammy got her outfit from Ms. Becky's best friend, who had wore it for cowboy action shooting matches.”

“They shoot old guns and dress like the 1800's mostly, but they also have a class called 'B-Western' where competitors dress like early western movies and TV shows. Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, Lone Ranger, those kind of costumes.”

He paused again and took a sip of the ice water.

“Wouldn't you know it... 'Miss Vogue' was dead set against the idea. We met right here on the Wednesday afternoon before the dance. Sat at this very table. And we talked it all out, or so we thought. But Susan thought she had convinced us to do it all her way. Come Saturday, she was NOT a happy camper. She was outraged by our attire from the moment I knocked on her door. Those smiles in the pictures are ALL fake.”

“What a bitch.” Nia almost shouted. “I think y'all looked real nice. The 'costumes' sound like real fun.”

“I can't stand people who live their lives like that, often struggling cause they think only the 'latest and greatest' will suffice. And those people that just have to get ALL the latest clothing fads. Even knowing the fad will be over in a month or Two. Such a waste of money.”

More points to Nia. She was savvy, and frugal.

He continued the story, “About 20 minutes after we arrived at the dance, Susan was already hanging around the table where her snooty friends were all sitting, without me. And by the 45 minute mark, she was dancing every dance with a tuxedo clad member of the student council that had come stag. And I hadn't heard a word from her since we walked in.”

Nia actually looked mad about how Susan ditched him.

Which was funny, since it happened almost 20 years ago, and she didn't even know him then.

“So you spent the night sitting all alone without a date or dance partner? That's low.”

He shook his head, “Naw. Tammy danced with me. And then I started in on the girls over on the 'stag bench'. After that I didn't miss a single song the rest of the night.”

“We even had to pull some tables together and steal chairs for my dance partners to join us, and for all the stag guys that they eventually wound up dancing with as the night went on. We wound up with the largest group in the whole gym.”

He looked at Nia and chuckled. “Wanna hear the best part?”

She nodded.

“Ken and Tammy got voted 'cutest couple' that night. Mainly because our group was large enough to outvote the preppy 'in-crowd' kids. Susan was fuming as they were announced.”

He slapped his leg and laughed.

“It was one of the best nights I ever had in all of High School.”

Nia laughed too, but then looked puzzled, “ Well at least it worked out and you guys had fun. So why the long face in the office?”

Tommy considered a short answer, but decided this little lady would appreciate the truth. So he looked her in the eyes and told her.

“Nia, the guy in that picture was my best friend, since we were 5 years old. I never had a brother from my parents, I'm an only child, but Ken filled the role.”

“He was murdered by a coyote that didn't want to lose his drug load or go to jail. Ken left a wonderful wife and twin girls behind that call me 'Uncle Tommy'. I guess seeing that picture just brought back the memories and caused me to realize just how much I miss him.”

Nia's eyes watered as he spoke, and when he finished she stood and bear hugged him.

“I get it Tommy. I mean it. I understand completely how you feel. Thanks for sharing that with me.”
The little bell rang and Nia wasn't in a hurry to break the hug. When she finally did, he saw Tammy standing in the doorway just staring at him.

Nia spoke again, “I better get to that silverware. Listening to your stories doesn't get my work done.”

Tammy stowed her purse and keys under the cash register, then briskly walked over and sat down beside him.

“Tommy Gunn.” She hissed at him, “What in the hell do you think you are doing?”
She fixed him with a steel hard and serious look.
“That girl is a good TEN YEARS younger than you.”

She shook her head at his shocked demeanor and the puzzled look on his face.
“Have you changed so much that you'd use that charm of yours to take advantage of an innocent and inexperienced young girl?”

He raised his hand to her and replied defensively, “It isn't what you think. I didn't DO anything. She hugged ME.”

He shrugged, “I just told her about our junior prom, and then she asked why I got so sad when I looked at the picture in your office. I wound up telling her about Ken, and she just grabbed me and hugged me and said she understood. Then you walked in.”

Tammy sighed, then looked at him apologetically.
“I'm sorry, you are right. That sounds exactly like her. Maybe I'm just jealous.” And she laughed. “She's just so damned cute and lovable.”

“It's not fair. She's got all the right 'everything you like in a girl', and that makes her a real threat to those of us who might entertain thoughts of seducing you.”

Tommy tossed it back at her just as bluntly, “I just met her a couple hours ago. Unless 'love at first sight' is a real thing... AND she goes for worn out old border tramps, which I seriously doubt... you and the other horny MILF's around here have nothing to fear.”

But at the same time he was actually kinda hoping his words were without any merit.

He knew that he was already quite smitten with the little lady in that kitchen.

Tommy reached across and pulled her up by her hand, and she stood. He pulled her closer and plopped her on his lap, then wrapped her up in a big hug. “Don't worry honey buns, I'm still your biggest fan.”

Her big half-exposed titties did not escape his notice as they were right at chin level with her on his lap. He ALMOST leaned in and punctuated his comment by motor-boating her cleavage, and he would have at any other time, but the usual silliness shared between them didn't fit this mood. So he refrained.
The very recently 'semi-hard' lump in his pants also had noticed her ample boobage and jumped to attention. So he did relent to his mischievous side and he flexed that particular muscle under her soft rounded ass. With expected results..

She jumped up and swatted him on the arm. “Yeah right. You're all hat and no horse. You'd run out of here like your hair was on fire if I ever made a serious pass at you”

They both laughed as she headed for her purse then went to the office with a deposit receipt.

Tommy got up and filled a glass with Diet Soda from the fountain.

He returned to his seat and looked out the window, thinking about a myriad of subjects and people.

He mostly thought of the cute little cook though. For some reason she invaded his mind and made it hard to think of anything else.

The Four shiny black Escalades that turned in front of the diner caught his attention.

The cartel gang was headed back to the warehouse. He checked his watch, 10 am, and mentally noted to report the time of the activity.
He then asked Tammy if she could spare another diet soda.

She brought it and set it down.

“You ain't out running around like the lone ranger and saving the world today?” she asked him in a low conspiratory voice.

He glanced toward the kitchen to see whether Nia had heard, then flashed her a big grin. “Nah, I have some down time. Figured I would stroke my ego by letting some wild beautiful women fawn over me for a while.”

Tammy knew about his job. She was one of only Five people who were not part of the unit who had ever known. Now down to Four with Ken gone.

She had noticed the glance toward the kitchen, and opted to jump to the wrong conclusion, as usual.

“You just watch yourself buddy. I like that little senorita, a LOT. She is not here for lonely horny old men to take advantage of. She's here to work for me, and she has to take care of her old sick Aunt.”

He gave her a look that said, 'Who me? I didn't do anything wrong.'

She turned serious again, “I mean it Tommy, I wasn't joking when I said she is innocent. So don't get any ideas in that little head of yours.” With a quick gesture to the bulge in his jeans. “You hear me?”

He just nodded.

And she walked away, leaving him to wonder why she was so concerned about it.

Nia was a cute, sexy, smart, NICE girl. She would never think of him as boyfriend material. Not with so many younger 'prettier' guys to choose from.

And why did he suddenly dislike the idea of there being younger guys around for her to like? He had just met her. It's not like he even knew enough about her to warrant a sincere interest beyond being friendly and attracted.

But the idea of some young dude charming her off on a date made his neck heat up. He wasn't sure why or even how that could be, but it was there. And that was unsettling to him.

He wasn't even hitting on Nia. He was just being friendly.

Estranged as they may be, he had Maria. Maybe. Possibly?

Hell, even THAT was confusing and unknown.

It grated on that little nerve that triggers a person to be aggravated and agitated.

He made an impulsive decision. It was time for her to shit or get off the pot. He deserved to be treated better, and she needed to make a decision about their relationship.

He was just going to force the issue, and that was going happen TODAY.

No more waiting and hoping over her.

He pulled out his cell phone and fired off a text to Maria. He had put it off for months, but now he had to know for sure. He figured he would get an answer, eventually, and maybe even a phone call. Might even be able to convince her to come home for the weekend or something. That increased blood flow to that unruly muscle again.

Surprisingly, his phone chirped within just a couple minutes.

His head swirled as he read the message. And then the next. And the next. And then several more.

He shut the damned thing down and flopped it onto the table.

“Well, guess that settles that.” He muttered under his breath.

Seems future DVM Maria had been avoiding contact with him because she didn't want to 'trouble him' with upsetting news.
Their estrangement would no longer be temporary, but permanent.

As college will often times do, it had changed her perspective on living in this small town. She had decided to not return to Silverspur after graduation. In fact, she was coming down in Two weeks to pack up her storage, and leaving this Two-goat town and area behind her. Forever.

She was however thoughtful enough to provide her own manpower for the move. Her FIANCEE was coming with her to help out.

Of course, it wasn't that she didn't have feelings for him. (don't they always claim that?)

And it also wasn't due to her own carnal and narcissistic desires.

No, no, no.

It was the many things about HIM that made them 'emotionally different' and incompatible.

She said she could not accept, and never understood, his lack of desire to better himself.

His lack of interest in seeking a higher education degree like she was doing.

His almost fanatical dedication to his job, and the constant secrecy and unwillingness to share any details of his work.

His long hours out in the desert, and out of contact, and his reluctance to seriously discuss with her just where and what he had been doing when he was off 'working'.

But it was the “life” he led that really wasn't what she preferred.

His uber Conservative thinking and beliefs were just... weird. And his 'gun-nut survivalist lifestyle', as she put it, wasn't healthy or in tune with modern progressive society.

He laughed when he remembered how she had raved and praised his 'survivalist lifestyle' during that big ice storm last year.

Having him show up in his four-wheel drive, drive her to his home, and provide her with hot food, hot water, heat, electricity, and all the usual comforts of life was right up her alley... when she needed it.

On return to the University, she said she had come to realize that it was all too much for her. It was not the life she wanted for her future, and she had to move on.

(on to and 'onto' another guys dick evidently)

He realized, with slight surprise, that he wasn't really that upset by her running off on him.

Maybe it was the past months with no contact or effort on her part to even try to contact him. And perhaps he had already known, and come to terms with it, even though no formal ending had yet been negotiated.

'The curse of his upbringing strikes again.' He thought to himself.

Semi-liberal, educated women had come and gone fairly often over the years. The few he had gotten remotely close with had ALWAYS seemed to have a problem with his lifestyle in the end.

And without fail, it had always been those who professed to have gained 'knowledge and enlightenment' from some institution of higher learning or another.

Sadly, Maria had always been too self-absorbed to actually ask him, and she had just assumed he had 'no formal education'.

If she had spent a moment on the many occasions when she was IN his home to actually look around at his decor, instead of just acting like it was all 'old stuff' and beneath her standards and tastes, she might have noticed what his mother had elegantly framed and hung on the den wall.

Mom, and to an extent his Dad, were quick to show guests the certificates that their son had gotten. Their pride at his being the first Gunn in generations to excel past High School has also become a point of personal accomplishment to them.

Maria had not even asked. Assuming the worst out of habit.

Would things have changed IF she had taken note?

Would it have been good enough for her if she stood before the wall and read the Two Associates of Applied Science diplomas? One in Paramedic Technology, and One in Agricultural Technology?

Would the Bachelor's and Masters' diplomas in Criminal Justice have mattered?

Would the four inch thick 'album' of certifications and training certificates he had acquired over the years have made any impression that would have made a difference?

No. He truly didn't believe it would have.

His education would have not been in the 'right things' for her.

She was a 21^st Century “sheeple” who scorned anything that wasn't approved and promoted by the upper crust of society, social media, or by the talking heads in mainstream media.

A generation of 'parents house dwellers' and 'welfare leeches' that believed taking out $100k in student loans, to get a degree in 'Women's Studies' or 'Political Science', is a valid way to prepare them for any real occupation or career was hard to shout down.

The new 'majority', who frown upon the 'Blue Collar' worker making $80k+ as a skilled laborer, usually from behind the counter of their starfucks or other menial retail job.

Only one thing he could imagine would have possibly caused Maria (and the several others who had come and gone) to stick around.

His financial records.

While some new Texans... like Bezos and Musk... would likely laugh at his 'pocket change', Tommy knew that his liquid and fixed assets amounted to more than a DVM would ever attain in a lifetime of performing spays on cats.

And the women knowing that information would have for sure only resulted in them playing the game, or faking the relationship, until they had what they wanted.

It was the one thing he had vowed he would never reveal to ANY woman. Not without a prenup or until after their Second wedding anniversary.

He just stared for some minutes at the road outside the diner. Wondering why people had to be so shallow.

Thinking that his whole world had decided to flip-flop on him just when he thought maybe his life should be getting better.

Oh well, maybe he could just....

“Hey, Tommy?” Nia said from the door of the kitchen, as she walked out into the dining area and approached him, her steps faltering as his eyes met hers. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?” she asked genuinely.

“Everything is just fine Nia.” he lied. “I just got some disturbing news about a project I had been involved with.”

“Oh, Okay.” She paused, then, “Hey, I'm here if you need to talk. Just let me know.”

He nodded. Thinking that sounded like a wonderful idea.
“You were coming to ask me something?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” she hesitantly said, “Well... I was wondering... I mean just curious to know... What was the 'other thing, or things'?”

He was honestly impressed that she didn't do the 'air quotes' like so many people her age.

He looked at her a moment trying to clear his thoughts back past Maria's news. He frowned as he thought hard.

Finally admitting to her, “Refresh my memory sweetie. I'm sorry. I got a little distracted, and we covered a lot of pasture earlier.”

'Sweetie', she smiled at the term of endearment, and hoped he did not catch on to her pleasure at hearing it.

“Earlier when we were talking you said, 'I have a special request, or Two, if you don't mind'. Then you only asked to see the picture.”

Tommy thought a moment and said, “Yeah, you're right. I did say it like that.” Then clammed up and said nothing further, a mischievous little smile on his lips.

When he didn't respond further or elaborate, she prodded.

“Well?” Nia asked. “What was the other thing or things?”

Tommy shot a look toward the office, then to Nia.

“Nia, I have a LOT of things on my mind today. Mostly work related, but a few personal issues too.”

Her face fell but he pressed on.

“I'd love to discuss those 'other things' with you though. In detail, but this is not the right venue.”

“Oh. It... It's okay.” She nodded and stepped back, dejectedly. Then replied, “I understand. I'm just being silly I guess.” with a fake laugh.

She looked into his eyes, searching and hopeful, then resigned and determined, she took a deep breath and kept talking.

“Please forgive me. It's just that I have seen your picture a thousand times, and spent hours listening to Tammy talk about you, I guess I just feel like I know you. But I also do know that's just in my head.”

She looked kinda sad and more so embarrassed. “And I also realize you just met me and all. So I do get it. Maybe some other time... if you want to. I'll be...well you know where I'll be.”

And she flashed a very forced smile. Tommy could tell, her usually smiling eyes didn't match the facial expression.

Tommy was faster on the uptake than usual. Thankfully. And caught on immediately. He reached out and took her hand in his. She almost looked as if she were going to jerk away.

All her previously exhibited self-confidence was no longer visible or evident. Just a scared nervous girl remained.

He felt like a heel, and he instinctively just spoke from his heart, before she bolted to the kitchen, which it looked like she might actually do any second.

“No Nia, YOU evidently DON'T understand.” And he cut his eyes theatrically toward the office. “I really DO want to talk to you more, a LOT more, but this is the wrong place and time for what I want to speak to you about.”

Her smile returned, and he kept going. “I want nothing more than to talk to you right now, but...” He shrugged, his own insecurity crashing the party. “Maybe one day.. soon.”

He looked into her eyes and boldly asked, “When do you think we might could sit down somewhere else, besides here, and have a nice long chat?”

She smiled and her eyes twinkled again.
Excitedly, she told him, “Well, I am off tomorrow and Wednesday. But I have to take my Aunt to the doctor in San Antonio for her treatments. We leave tonight on the bus, then we will return Wednesday afternoon. It's about 6 hours one way you know, all those stops and all.”

She sounded more and more like the bright shining young lady he had met earlier, so he let her prattle on.

“Then I work 6 am to 4 pm here every day, from Thursday to Monday. So far. I mean on this schedule and the last ones. But I'll probably be off next Tuesday and Wednesday as usual.”

She added hopefully, “But I do get off at 4 pm every afternoon so maybe you could even come by my Aunts' house one of those evenings? We could sit on the porch and talk if you'd like. My Aunt isn't a busy body or anything, I'm sure she would give us space for private conversation. I could even cook supper for you, maybe, if you'd like me to. That is if you're not scared of my culinary skills outside of Tammy's menu.”

She caught herself and blushed a little.

(oh god, oh god, oh god, he's gonna think I'm so stupid. please just let him ignore all that)

He smiled at her excitement, but also knew that it could just be a young girl's anticipation of having a friend, or someone, or anyone, to go and do 'something' with in this Two goat town.

“You get off every day at 4?” He asked.

“Yes.” She said.

“Okay then. Lets say Thursday. For sure. Be sure to tell your Aunt. You and Me. 6 PM. Steaks and good conversation. Then home at a reasonable hour so you can get some rest before you have to come serve your slave driver in there. And also because your Aunt doesn't need to worry about you being off for long with a strange man.”

Nia nodded happily, “It's a date then.”

Tommy clucked and wagged his finger at her.

“Nope. It's NOT a date, Nia. It is just SUPPER. Nothing as fancy as a date.”

Nia didn't do a good job of hiding her disappointment at his words.

Tommy chuckled and continued, “For a date you have to woo me, and charm me into dressing up. And then we will have to go somewhere nice, which means a 'bigger' city than Silverspur.”

She looked relieved and giggled her sweet sexy way. “Okay. It's a 'Just supper' then.”

He rapped the table with his knuckles and said, “Good. Glad that's settled. Now... I'll pick you up at 4 pm this afternoon and drive you home. That way I can meet your Aunt, and I will know where you live... in case I decide to kidnap you or something equally sinister in the meantime.”
He winked at her and she laughed again, then walked back to the kitchen.

Was that a little skip? Was she walking with a little more spring in her step?

He shook his head and stood, tossing a 20 on the table. 'Almost Ten years older.' He reminded himself.

“HEY TAMMY!?”, he shouted. “I'm leaving... so come say bye and watch my butt as I walk away.”

The door to the kitchen swung open forcefully, and Tammy walked to the front. She dug out her glasses and put them on, then leaned on the counter and stared toward him and the door. “Get steppin' buddy. Flex them glutes real good for mama now.”

He stepped over and she stood up, he gave her a hug. “Gotta go find a bad guy. See you later honey buns.” Then pecked a kiss to her lips.

“I promise not to wait so long to come in again.”

“Be careful Tommy. I'll see you soon.” She said seriously. He nodded, grabbed his hat, and walked out.

Only one road went in or out of the industrial area. Train tracks, with a single crossing in front of the diner, meant no other route was possible. The warehouse was only 2 blocks away, and he hadn't seen the Escalades again. No rental trucks either. So with any luck, they were all still there.

Time to put in another call and get to planning this evenings shindig.

Chapter 3

An overweight dark haired white guy, 40-ish in age, dressed in khaki tactical pants and a black polo, stepped quickly to the desk and answered the ringing landline phone.

“American Protective Insurance. Agent Barnes. How can I help you?”

The voice on the other end was calm and methodical, and it spoke in carefully chosen concise words.

“Code in, Hunter Alpha, 98990.”

“Sit-rep, ACTIVE.”

“Location, 6021 Industrial Drive. Structure, multi-color Warehouse, 3 entry's noted, 4 docks.”

'Vehicles, 2 yellow rental trucks and 4 Black Escalades. Possibly other unknown civilian.”

“Contacts, minimum. 12, MX males, ARMED. 10 to 14 IA's of various ages and genders.” “Information is confirmed as of 0300 this date.”

Barnes replied, “Affirmative. Expect interdiction at 2100. HOLD and OBSERVE. Interact only in Response or Emergency.”

Then he added a question in a less formal tone, “Anything further to add?”

Tommy thought about not mentioning the shit bag he had seen and identified, but knew such an omission was strictly against protocol. “80% positive confirmation on identity of Jefe.”

Again Barnes inquired, “Confirmed at location?”

“In and Out.” Tommy answered.

Then again in a more formal tone, “Anything further to add?”

“Negative. 98990... Out.” Tommy said into the receiver.

“Barnes Out.” And the line was dead.

The wheels of justice were in motion. Tommy would set up just after sunset. That would give him approximately 15 minutes until the party started.

Meanwhile, a Predator drone was tasked to orbit the warehouse area. It would send live video of anything moving to the remote terminals of the task force.

Anyone coming or going wouldn't be able to escape detection.

Barnes also alerted his task force. Muster would be at a predetermined location, at 7 pm sharp.
There they would surrender all cell phones, be swept for transmitting or recording devices, and then assemble to begin briefing and planning.

The task force was told their 'Time Out' would be 4 hours.

'Time Out' being the estimated time they would be away from family and friends and out of touch... for any reason. This gave them opportunity to explain absences and not blow their covers.

The cartels had large amounts of money to throw around, and didn't mind using it to grease the palms of low paid law enforcement.
Neither were they above using threats against family or friends to force cooperation of anyone they couldn't buy off.
Surrendering cell phones, and not being able to make contact with anyone after any briefing had started, was SOP for the task force. It removed the chance of someone leaking operational intel, accidentally... OR intentionally.

1 pm.

Tommy smiled as he drove down the almost deserted 2 lane highway. He even honked and waved at some horses that were standing at a fence corner, likely awaiting the return of their owner.

Silly, but just one of his quirks.

Arriving home, he stowed the Jeep in the shop, then went into the house and stripped down to nude as he basked in the 70 degree air conditioning. Grabbing a bottle of 'sports-ade' and entering the 'safe room', he fired up the computers and sat at his desk. The cool fake leather almost shocking to his back, buttocks, and dangling genitals.

He checked the sat images and images from the drones, the movement reports, and the weather forecast.

No movement noted. 80 Degrees and clear skies at 8 pm.

Remembering the strange 'insurance' reference from earlier, he logged into the local crime reporting database and searched for a little while. Pay-dirt. It seems that a Latino gang had settled in on the area and were shaking down businesses.

Extortion.

Several reports were called in and filed a while back, but nothing recent. Not after the date on a report of an assault & battery on a 72 year old shop owner. The man had spent a couple weeks in the hospital and then suddenly developed amnesia about the details of his attack.

No charges filed.

With 'Jefe' in town, Tommy had a lot on his plate. But he also grew up with these people and couldn't just ignore this.

He printed out the information and addresses for future use.

2 pm

Tommy went into his bedroom and laid on the bed. Planning this afternoons, and this evenings, activities.

He stared at the ceiling while mentally picturing the events as they might play out. Scenarios, alternative scenarios, and the many things that could go wrong.

A smart military tactician once said that 'battle plans are essential to every action an army makes, but normally those well laid plans have to be thrown out the window as the first shots are fired'.

Tommy preferred his father's advice. 'Plan for everything possible, even the impossible. Because anything that can go wrong, will go wrong'.

He also ran down his equipment inventory, making a mental list of all he might need.

His thoughts soon turned back to Nia.

What was her story?

Was he really attracted to her, or was it just horny lust as Tammy had been so quick to think?

It was true, she had a killer body that any man would be drawn to, and would approach her less than purity in their intentions. But she was also much more than met the eyes.

He didn't know exactly how much yet, but he just knew in his gut that she was.

And there was something else about her that he realized he had picked up on. She wasn't of Mexican heritage, as Tammy had described her.

He believed that she was indeed legitimately from Oklahoma, and maybe even of Native descent.

Davis? Could she possibly be?

He would definitely do a little prying to find out if his suspicions were right.

Looking at the clock, he decided to get moving.

He chose a suppressed Glock 34. The Higher capacity made up for the lackluster knockdown of the 9mm cartridge.

He also chose the HK-91, chambered in .308 Winchester, and topped with a Trijicon thermal rifle scope which utilizes a state-of-the art 640x480, 12 micron thermal image sensor with a digital video recorder.

Shoving his web gear and pack into a large red duffel bag, he added his USGI black jungle boots and a set of black BDU's, including a black boonie hat.

He loaded all this into the back seat of the Dually, rode the 3-wheeler up the ramps into the bed, and hit the road.

He made a quick swing through the industrial park to check for any movement, none detected.

Then drove back out and into the diner parking lot.

At 3:55 pm, he walked through the door.

Tammy just looked up at him from where she was taking an order.

The Two men she was attending to were sharing time between studying the menus and her exposed cleavage.

They finally chose their food and she walked past him to the big silver wheel where the order slips went for the cook to retrieve and fill. “Order up!” she shouted to the kitchen, and a large white hand plucked the ticket from the clip.

“Back so soon?” she asked him.

He just smiled and replied, “Just playing chauffeur to a friend in need of a ride.”

Tammy's eyes narrowed. She leaned in and hissed, “You better behave yourself Thomas. I mean it. That girl doesn't need any more drama in her life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What drama?”

But Nia came out of the store room and was approaching.

Tammy just whispered, “Tell you later.”

He looked at Nia as she walked up and stopped beside Tammy. She smiled at him.

The feelings were unmistakable. He recognized them easily.

Whether it was her genuine personality, or how easy it was for him to talk to her, he was smitten.

In just a couple hours time, she had managed to top the list of women who held his interest.

He smiled back broadly at her, not in the least shy about letting his interest show.

“Hey there Miss. Nia, ready to escape this sweat shop and your slave-mistress?”

Nia laughed. Such a beautiful sound, he thought.

Tammy smacked him on the shoulder for his comment, then hip-bumped him. “You wish I was your mistress.”

He laughed and kissed her cheek.

“Maybe some day. If you're lucky.”

Nia just took it all in stride, somehow already understanding the dynamic between the old friends.

More points to Nia, most women have no idea how to do that.

“See you Thursday morning.” Nia told Tammy, who replied, “You better, or I'm coming after our boy Tommy here.”

“Who me?” he asked with fake offense. “I'm just your friendly neighborhood abductor of young maidens. It is my nature. How can I be anything else?”

Tammy and Nia laughed. Tammy said, “Go on you. Take Nia home so she can rest and won't be completely wiped out by their bus ride for tomorrow.”

“She also has to be rested up and back here Thursday morning, on-time, for her slave duties.”

That was a preview of Tommy Gunn - Book One - 'Revenge on the Border'. To read the rest purchase the book.

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