The Wyoming Purchase

I reviewed what had brought me to this as the plane flew through the late November winds to Kentucky. I had done what I did because I had nothing better to do. Sixteen years working as a mercenary in a variety of shitty places had given me a certain sense of... normality; that was unusual.

I fell in with a Romanian outfit when I was eighteen after being a barman on a small passenger liner (Read arms dealer's mega yacht) for six months. I had proven to be inventive about how to use what could be found, I had given the Romanian ex colonel a few good ideas about sustained income rather than only working of operational income and was brought in as a senior officer in the setup from the start.

Over the years I had used my inventiveness to engineer a few platforms and systems the outfit had survived some ferociously dangerous engagements with and profited off by partnering with armaments companies who produced them now. I had a talent for languages too and had taken an intelligence and planning role because of my talents. I had learned Tagalog, Arabic, Spanish, French, Russian, and of course Romanian in addition to Zulu, Sotho, English, and Afrikaans I had spoken before becoming a mercenary.

I had studied psychology, engineering, business, organizational culture, history from a variety of perspectives, literature, and a few other subjects in short courses between or for assignments. This meant that I was very well educated but qualified for very little.

For sixteen years the default situation for me had been that somebody wanted to kill me. Some survival routines were second nature now. I watched who was watching me, I never approached a destination directly, I never moved at a constant speed, and I stayed away from crowds. I had a very strict gun control policy: if there was gun I wanted to control it. I stayed fit and if at all possible never worked myself to a level of tiredness that I lost my awareness of my surroundings.

Most of all; I never went ass first into the unknown.

So why was I parachuting into the Kentucky Appalachians on my own, in November, into unknown dangers? All that was really known was the the situation was dangerous. A few dangers were known, the guy I was trying to beat was a serial killer and a billionaire. That was bad, what was worse was that he had a small army in Kentucky, and the factory to arm them.

The worst definition in the dictionary is for the word Mercenary: Somebody who joins an armed conflict primarily for money. Somebody setting aside ethics for personal profit. Yada yada yada. No mercenary I ever dealt with did it primarily for profit. No mercenary without ethics survived long either. That definition should have been applied to Harvard MBA.

I had very good reasons to be jumping into danger now. None of them had anything to do with money. More to pass the flight time than motivate I remembered the last year. It had easily been the weirdest year in a career that included some insane events. Ironic that it was after I had retired.

I had been bored when I converted an old inter city bus into a mobile home. After promoting my ranch foreman to manager and offering a deal in which he would buy the ranch off me if he paid me twenty thousand dollars per year for seven years. He was never going to get such good deal again so he took it and I took my bus to see what I could find.

It hadn't taken me long to find trouble in Utah going to Nevada just outside Wendover. When I saw a woman trying to flag traffic down on Interstate Eighty. It had be such a cliche ambush scenario that I had stopped just to fight it out.

It had turned out to be even more fun than that. She was flagging traffic down for the very good reason that both front wheels of her Camry had burst. That had happened because she had jumped the tracks from the secondary road beside the railway then driven half a mile through the scrub to get to the shoulder of the highway.

The reason she had done that turned out to be that a guy who manufactured illegal explosives had been trying to kill her. I got the story mostly because she and I had lived and grown up on neighboring cattle farms in South Africa. My soul sang to hear it and I decided to help long before she actually asked for help.

Her grandfather had been killed when his ranch in South Dakota burned to the ground. The insurance company had determined that the farm had been burned down on purpose by finding the remains of incendiary devices. They were refusing to pay out and were on the point of charging her with murder, arson, and insurance fraud. She was naturally trying to avoid going to to prison and had been following up on a license plate that had been found on the road in going past the ranch that had been on the Silverado the guy manufacturing explosive drove.

It took me less than eight hours to get the guy with the explosives taken out of circulation by the Nevada Highway Patrol without incriminating my old neighbor. It was a day that became memorable for them in how it had allowed them to use all the emergency power the state allowed. They respected the anonymous tips from people they knew the identities of and made the national news with spectacular scenes of a Silverado being blown up to make a ton of ANFO not dangerous anymore.

It took another two weeks for the insurance company to pay out and drop any idea of charging the woman. By the time that happened I was already interested in why a ranch would need to be burned down and the woman had signed it off to me in payment for keeping her alive and out of prison with a few million in insurance money.

I took the road to South Dakota having found out that the ranch was one thousand eight hundred acres in size, had four neighbors three of which were the government in various entities, when I looked further the government owned ten of the twelve properties nearest the ranch. There were no concession businesses registered on any of them, the largest property was twelve thousand acres belonging to the National Parks Service. Surprisingly nobody was doing anything there either and I was toying with idea for a business as I considered the topography of the area. I just needed to find out why a ranch got burned down.

I was delayed a little getting to South Dakota though.

In the dark; driving to get to to Highway Sixteen before the first November snow made it hazardous, I hit a cow that had lain down on the road ten miles south west of Casper, Wyoming. That meant I was stuck getting the bus repaired. I bought a tricked out Ford Bronco from the workshop repairing my bus with an idea of keeping it to be a second transport and to help me get around in Casper. When I stopped at the truck stop near the airport I was looking for Maggie, a hooker I had hired before on a trip through. The first real blizzard of winter was about to blow in from the arctic and I was a little frustrated that Maggie had not answered her phone.

My thinking was to get a good meal and go back to the hotel to ask the night clerk about a different Mrs. Right-Price. As usual with truck stops there were a few people standing around on the apron under the eaves of the diner and convenience store and I took note of them as I turned the engine off. I discounted the people there as not being a threat, no people watching arrivals, more focused on thoughts of leaving the marginally warmer place to get to their trucks or cars to pump fuel or go home. I was thinking about lunch and whether I should arm up when I stepped onto the apron to go into the diner.

"Will you buy please mister?" A little freezing voice whimpered.

I didn't even think about it as I picked the girl up and carried her inside. The woman behind the counter wanted to chase the girl out but a look from me ended that idea. Then I turned my attention to the girl. In a pair of woefully inadequate ballet type slippers she stood five feet tall. Copper red hair, needing a cut but it was neatly combed, pale skin turning blue in the cold was now turning red in the warmth of the diner, the pain was probably incredible and the bright blue eyes were starting to tear up. Dressed in a mini dress an inch longer than an old windbreaker I was not surprised that she was in pain aside from clear embarrassment.

I opened my trench coat and pulled her into it lifting her to ride my hip easily. Her head was under my lapel hiding her face while I ordered two meals with hot chocolate for the girl and coffee for me. Taking a table at the back of the diner I sat down with the girl moving he legs from holding on around my waist to curled up on my lap.

She put her head out from under my jacket when she had recovered composure and kissed my cheek making me chuckle. She smelled nice and from what I could see of her clothes they were clean. My conclusion was that she was not a junkie and she had a code of acceptable behavior, she was just damn poor.

"Feeling better? What's your name?" I asked.

"Eileen Kearns mister. You really ordered food for me?"

"Yes. Why are you here dressed so badly?"

"Mom is trying to make the rent... we're locked out by the landlord."

"Alright. The weather did turn fast. Last night it was still quite warm. How much is rent?"

"Two thousand dollars."

"At that kind of rent the landlord would be pushing to have you turning tricks."

"Yeah, he wants me to run merchandise for him. He wants me to drive to Texas to fetch some snow. Mom wants me far away from him but to get him to lay off me is going to take more than two grand. He's mom's dealer and he once drove to Georgia to get his money from someone who didn't pay him."

I had seen this before.

"Alright I'll buy you away from your mom's dealer. You're staying with me until we get that sorted. Where is your mother?"

"She went with a trucker a few hours ago."

"Right." I figured that was Maggie, there was a similarity in build and face shape and Caster did not have a very big prostitution sector.

I also thought that maybe Maggie wasn't coming back. I wasn't going to say that though.

"How old are you?"

"Turning nineteen in March. I worked at the storage and warehouses by the railroad but Barrie fired me. he's also the landlord."

"Why did he fire you?"

"I refused to suck his dick."

"And then he called what your mom owes... I know the play. Have your food." I said paying the waitress with a good tip. "Here's a plan. We eat, then I go and buy you some good clothes. Then we get you in the hotel with me and while you rest up I sort your mark out and find your mom. Tomorrow we sort out how to carry on. If your mom owes her dealer that much it's only a matter of time before you're in the shit again for what somebody else does. I don't want that."

"Mister, you sort Barry out you can have me and take me with you. Where are you going anyway?"

"Difficult question that. I'm a traveler mostly. I own a ranch Idaho, going to look at another in South Dakota, and then going somewhere warmer to plan and work out what to do next year."

"Cool! What's your name?"

"Most people call me Jay. Those close to me call me Hannes. Hannes Calitz."

Eileen waited while I started the bronco and got it heated up then thankfully rushed to it. She stared around her in surprise as I took her to the best clothing store in town and bought her a whole new wardrobe. Constantly looking at the low end labels to have whatever she picked replaced from the high end. I noted that she preferred really feminine clothing and had a good eye for colors.

She stood nervously in a beautician as I made appointments for hair, nails, facial treatment, and advise on makeup. Impulsively she hugged as we left with her shopping in suitcases I bought. She was still staring at me in wonder when I checked her into my hotel suite. The issue of photo ID was easily solved with a hundred dollars to the clerk and two hundred to the manager.

I ordered her another hot chocolate from room service and left her to unpack while I went to the RV park right next to the railway and industrial complex of the town. I looked at the run down place across a level cross and thought about Eileen coming from the wrong side of the railway track.

Attached to the RV park was a warehousing and storage complex that also looked as if it was being run to chase customers away. I looked at the peeling paint and rusting roof sheeting toying with ideas, shaking my head at the unrealized potential. With a sigh I got out of the car and went looking for trouble.

Barry Sedgefield was a short man of about five foot eight, with a paunch and jowls he was in no shape to be shouting at the woman behind the counter because a few fire extinguishers had been used and he needed to spend money to stay in business now. The two men supposed to be muscle were impressive with their store bought definition and toning but it was spoiled by their stance which proclaimed them to be good at lifting weights but not at actual fighting. Their pistols were pretty with every add-on money could buy to make them scarier but the holsters were badly placed to allow the weapons to work quickly.

I summed this up when I stepped into the office and waited patiently for him to stop shouting and swearing at the woman. He glanced at me a few times and decided to show how much power he had by feigning to slap the woman. When he turned his attention to me he had already decided he was going to be an asshole. I decided to be Eastern European for this.

"What do you want?"

"Good day Mr. Sedgefield. I am Virolac, from Strivoi Logistics and Holdings. We -."

"I have people prepared to may me before speaking to me. Get to the point asshole."

"We understand Eileen Kearns has certain obligations to you and would discuss ways to take those obligations over."

"Got two hundred grand? That is what it will cost you."

"I doubt it. I believe you are prepared to evaluate her obligations to be considerably lower."

"Go back to your shit house Third World Country. You're a stupid fuck if you think she can do anything for you. Get out before my people throw you out."

I took a step back and to the right. Feinted a chop at the muscle man's throat, stopped it early and kicked his knee instead. His hands coming up to defend suddenly darted down to hold his knee. I slapped both ears hard, curled my fingers to hold him by the ears, and pivoted.

The second man was recovering from his surprise and coming, he collected his buddy's feet swinging around and reeled into the counter. He half bent over it from the force of the blow that had sent him into it. Then tried to find his gun.

While he was doing that I finished the first man off by pulling his head back and driving the heel of my hand to hit him under the chin. His jaw snapped shut with a crunching sound that indicated he was going to need store bought teeth when he woke up. He went flying into the muscle who was drawing his pistol and that man dropped the gun when his elbow hit the counter and his forearm went numb.

I stepped to close the range and grabbed the man by a shoulder while he was trying to come to terms with what was happening. He spun around facing over the counter again as I yanked hard. I finished him with a knee to his kidneys then flipped him over the counter at Barry.

I vaulted the counter after the man and landed beside Barry who was trying to get his own gun while pinned beneath his body guard who was curled into a little ball of agony and not moving. I reached down and grabbed Barry by his testicles to haul him out then drove the small of his back into the edge of the desk and followed that up with my knee into his stomach. He sucked a breath and tried to curl up closing his eyes. I turned him upright, held him by the back of his neck and took his gun away. He had nothing to resist with as I gripped him in a choke hold.

"What is your name?" I asked the woman politely.

"Uh, Sheryl, uh sir."

"I am deeply offended at your bad manners towards Sheryl Mr. Sedgefield. Apologize to her."

Barry was wheezing and struggling weakly to stop hanging from the crook made by my bent elbow.

"Apologize Mr. Sedgefield or I might truly be unreasonable. Abstinence is not essential Sheryl. Good manners at all times are though. Please forgive me for this display of violence."

"Uh that's okay sir." She said with wide eyes staring at her boss who was turning purple.

"Sorry..." He said and passed out.

"I believe your employer will have no objection if you take the evening off and returned in the morning Sheryl." I said letting Barry down.

Her eyes followed Barry going down to the floor. Suddenly she grabbed her purse and ran as best high heels allowed to get to the door. She was outside for five seconds when I heard her heels clicking back. She looked into the office.

"Thank you sir!" She said, then ran away.

I dragged Barry to his office and tied him to his chair with cargo straps then returned to deal with the two muscle men. Both were keen to find different work and get out of there alive. As such they were entirely happy when I opened the safe and looted it to pay them off. Barry watched me do it silently probably dealing with a massive headache and more worried about what I was going to do to him.

"Now Mr. Sedgefield, where is your stash?" I asked pleasantly.

"Why?"

"A less messy way of killing you. Or would you prefer to watch your blood paint the office walls?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Strivoi means ghost in Russian Mr. Sedgefield. We have a lot of those in our organization. That is all you need to know."

"Oh fuck! Listen we can be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable. I am looking to make your death nearly painless, maybe even happy. Happy for you; a lot of other people will be happy at your death regardless of how it comes about." I answered looking around his office.

"Shit... Eileen, you can have her!"

"Yes I will have her too Mr. Sedgefield. But having insulted us blood is required now. Your blood preferably."

"Fuck it man! No, we can work it out!"

"How do you propose to do that?"

"Fucking take the business! I'll run it for you!"

"No Mr. Sedgefield, we do not take. We buy and we sell. No, because you are not of our people, only our people run our business, it is the best way to remain... loyal. No, because like so much of America your loyalty is illusion. You are loyal as long it suits you and you gain money. We have more important priorities than money... However your business is an attractive prospect. What would you consider a good price?" I smiled in satisfaction when I found a bottle of pills.

"Six hundred grand?"

"Hmm, which of your children should we pay it to?"

"Fucking Hell man! I don't have kids!"

"That is good to know, at least we will not have to look to their welfare then. Which charity should we then donate to?"

"I want to walk way from this! Fuck! What will it take?"

"You are asking me for more than you comprehend... I have thirty thousand to secure Eileen. I will choose to overlook your insult and take this park and storage facility with Eileen and her mother for that. You never come to our attention again. If you do you will deal with less forgiving people than I."

"Yeah! That can work!"

"Excellent! Let me find a deed of sale here on your computer."

He stared with an expression of horror as I found a deed of sale and filled it in then printed two copies. I put thirty thousand dollars into a Western Union transaction and sent the details to his phone then held the documents at his hand for him to sign. He barely hesitated and signed. Satisfied I poured him a scotch and soda then tapped out a little date rape cocktail.

"At least you will walk away when you recover Mr. Sedgefield and I will not rape you." I said pushing pills into his mouth.

He stared at me in fury after swallowing the scotch until the drugs took effect. I guided him to the Bronco then drove around for a awhile looking for Maggie and found her in an underground water pumping station. She was naked and passed out between five other junkies all sheltering under a small cargo cover, from the smell they had been sniffing glue. The place was warm from the motors at least so I dragged Barry in there and left them.