He shook away the old memories, as he heard the truck coming down the road. Yeah those genes can be passed down from father to son. Farrell had those genes, because he’d passed them to Kendall. So the chain continues, he’d been fooling himself all these years.
Farrell was his grandson, he was a good boy, smart and was on his way to being something pretty great. Just like his father. His son Kendall was a rebel, and wore that title like a badge of honor.
Kendall would pick a side, and stick to his choice, no matter what the cost. He would never leave anyone, behind without knowing the truth. He was dangerous when pushed, and if he were to ever go after a person, sooner or later that person was very dead-meat.
Kendall smiled, as he stepped down from his truck, father and son stood looking at one another. They were a team, partners if one wished to use that term, one would always had the other’s back.
But they also knew to trust the other, to use commonsense and save their own ass.
“Dad. I can safely say it has hit the fan.”
“Told you.” the older man said, with a grin and held out his hand, he quickly cut his eyes to Farrell.
Kendall gave a knowing smile and shook his father’s hand, “Okay, you were right.”
The older Wolfe looked at his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Uh-I believe you’ve forgotten something.”
“You gonna hold me to that! Come on Pop, that’s a lot of money.”
“Never knew you to welch on a bet.”
“Okay alright. Shit!” Kendall, said with a serious look on his face, as he pulled his billfold. “Never knew you to be so hard up for money.”
“Principal of the matter son.” the older man turning slightly and giving his son a wink. A gesture that was lost to the others. “Never bet more than you can afford to loose.”
“Is he going to do, what I think he is?” Em asked her mother.
“What is it you think he’s going to do?”
Em shook her head, and started to step forward, but stopped herself. Hell it was now time. Maybe-even an hour passed time. Farrell loved and respected Sarge, who better to tell him.
The older man walked over to Farrell and smiled down at the boy, he carefully unfolded the bill and removed a small medallion.
“This once belonged to my father, after he was killed it was given to me by my grandfather. The bill is the same bill, that my Dad, had it wrapped in. I gave it to Kendall, when he was just about your age to safeguard. Now I’m giving it to you.”
“Sarge. . . I appreciate the gesture but shouldn’t that go to Kendall’s son. . ?” The reality of his words hit him and he turned and looked at his mother.
She smiled through her tears and nodded.
The boy took the medallion and upon instinct kissed it, and carefully wrapped it back in the bill. He pulled his wallet and carefully placed it inside.
He and Kendall, had done the same thing when it had been given to them. Both men fought to repress the shudder that tried to rear up inside them. They both failed.
The boy hugged the larger older man, and then went to his father. Kendall looked down avoiding the eyes of the boy, he was for the first time ashamed of his
acts. Things he’d left undone.
“You’re here now, that’s what matters to me.” the boy said softly as Kendall, knelt down and took the boy in his arms.
“I’ll make it right-I swear to it.” Kendall replied firmly.
Rob Macalister put down his binoculars and calmly rubbed his eyes, just some guy and his kid meeting for the first time maybe. Nothing to fear there, the valley was filling up, as more and more people were wanting out of the city.
It wasn’t really any safer in the country, it’d just take a bit longer for the after effects of the shit to hit you, once it hit the fan. Well the shit had hit the fan. It was over except for the splatter effect.
It wasn’t even a war in the regular sense, the state of Texas, was just doing some major house cleaning. Actually, it really was much more like, they were giving the state an enema.
The good people of Texas were just once again, letting it be known that they would always fight for their freedom.
Rob was fairly certain that those, up on that ridge were the Wolfe family. Good men, the type that when push comes to shove, you’ll find that the men, as well as their women-will make a stand.
If it really got bad, some of the families may actually have to band together. Many would be welcome at his place, but there was some that he’d probably shoot on sight. How could anyone pick this time to act on some racial bullshit?
It was really getting bad, many of the Black families were running away. Just leaving in the dead of night, with what they had on their backs, and whatever they could carry. It was either that or, have a band of rednecks come in the night and burn them out.
The law was of little help, the Black people barely had the right to breathe the same air as a White man. So what good, would it have been for them to call the law? Many of the cops were just as stupid and racial, as those the complaints would have been filed against.
The holdouts would certainly be welcome at his house, any man that believed in freedom, and was willing to fight for it, would always be welcome.
He’d never turn away a family with children, unless they practiced prejudice and hate. He’d find it hard to do, but he’d not have that kind of people in his home or around his family. Yeah-he was prejudice.
He was prejudice against those that would hate without just cause, or because of skin color, or a chosen religion. Those were the people that got under his skin, to hear them go on and on about it, was enough to make him want to pull his pistol and shoot every goddamn one of them.
The only thing that stopped him was. . . well-right now it was against the law. A law he was suppose to have sworn to uphold. Sometimes he really hated being a cop,
At times it was hard to know the good guys from the bad guys. Things are not always what they seem. A man may find it necessary to kill, and by all rights it may even be a clean shoot. But a jury may think otherwise.
Who in the fuck was the law protecting anyway?
Certainly not the good and decent people, he had a bad feeling, that it was only going to get worse in later years. He thought about the large Black man, that had brought June, to them. Reverend Baker? That man was as much a reverend, as he was a pacifist.
The last asshole that got in his face would strongly object to that. Just two more months, and then the bastard would be able to start eating solid foods again.
He should never have told him to go fuck himself, when he was told to leave his posted property. Actually that wasn’t what got his jaw jacked, he’d gotten too close to Rob, and had told him what he was going to do to him and his family.
None of it was really to Rob’s liking.
Rob had never known, or suspected, that there was a darkness inside him until he broke that punk’s jaw.
He’d always taken such pride in the fact, that he played it straight. Many of the cops did, they weren’t all bully boys. They were to protect and to serve, that’s not to say that some didn’t abuse their power.
That’s when the FEDS would come in and check things out, and this Randy Baker was most definitely a FED.
He’d been around enough of them as a cop, that it had become second nature to spot them. But Baker wasn’t like any agent he’d ever met, Baker seemed to have-seemed to have a conscience.
That was very confusing, in order to be a good agent one had to be almost subhuman. Totally void of all human emotions, never know when you might have to kill a woman, or even destroy a house where there may be children. Ice-cold and evil.
He could never prove it, but he was certain that they’d killed one family, and to cover it up by having the house destroyed. It was just one of many government fuck ups, and they had to cover their asses.
The American people, could never know that they’d made a mistake and killed innocent people. He was one of the first officers to arrive, and he saw the bodies. He saw the three month old little girl with her head bashed in.
He went out to call in and to throw up, as soon as he was clear, the house blew up. Everything was fucking destroyed, the FEDS came in and conducted their investigation, and claimed they found nothing out of the ordinary. Probably a gas leak. How unfortunate for those poor people.
The baby probably died in the explosion, they claimed that they’d found a life-like doll with the head crushed.
Bullshit. He touched the child, he had her blood on his hands. He knows what a goddamn human body feels like, (a warm body) compared to some fucking plastic doll.
The deaths of that family, was a very touchy subject with him. He knew that it was a conspiracy coverup on the part of the US government. But proving it was a difficult matter.
Two weeks to the day another house was hit. The strange thing was the similarities in the addresses. The first house was on Taylor street, and the second house was on Tyler. They both had the same street number.
The occupants of the second house were all killed by gunfire, they were a bunch of lowlifes, and Rob felt that they were the target to begin with. A mistake was made and then covered up, by destroying all the evidence of what they’d done.
When he got too close, he started having trouble with records of payments on the land he was buying. While he was getting that in order, his evidence was given to the FEDS so that they could conduct a much more through investigation.
Of course, all that got misplaced.
He got the other problems worked out, a temp had misfiled his payment records. “So sorry, for the inconvenience.” (Sucker)
He’d more or less expected something like that to happen, he trusted no one to be clean. He made copies of all the reports, and had them placed in box at the bank. But he strongly felt that he probably should back off. For the time being anyway.
Who knew what they’d do to keep it quiet, if they’d do that to a three month old baby, what was Killing a cop and his family to them?
This was all somehow tied in, with that deal his brother was into. He could feel it. But he’d be damned if he could figure it out.