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A Christmas Mystery
Chapter 1
He awoke with a start to the sound of gunfire. Rolling out of bed, he hit the floor with a thud and lay there for a moment, his training taking over, telling him to remain still until the firing had stopped. He'd only been back in the States for a few months, but it all seemed so new. Glancing around the room, which he kept near spotless, he spotted the gun he'd stashed on the table by his bed. Grabbing it, he remained ready but stood, hearing no more shots. Everything seemed eerily silent now. He couldn't even hear the usual noise of radios and televisions that usually filled the building.
Standing fully, he sat the gun on the bed and grabbed a shirt, noticing once again the scar that marred his chest from the shrapnel that had hit him in Ramadi. It seemed like a lifetime ago and all around it was a bad situation. They'd walked blindly into a trap on bad intel, and they paid heavily for that mistake.
Putting the shirt on, he tucked the gun into his waistband and walked over to the window, watching the snow fall lazily towards the ground below, which was already blanketed in a white coat. It looked like it was going to be one of those days again. Frowning he glanced over at the open bottle of bourbon and the half empty glass he'd drown his sorrows in last night. He'd only recently took to drinking, mostly to get rid of the memories of Iraq. But nothing it seemed, could erase the horrors of war.
Walking to the door, he opened it and looked outside for a moment, seeing no one he stepped out and closed the door behind him. Had no one else head the gunshots? Knocking on the door from which he'd heard the shots he paused listening for any sounds. The man who owned the apartment, Mr. Ramirez, was a kind older gentlemen and a Vietnam vet who Johnathan greatly respected. Hearing nothing, he grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open. The room was a mess, drawers lay strewn about, furniture was overturned and paper and glass littered the floor. Walking further in, he saw a man laying face down in a pool of blood. Running over to him Johnathan knelt down and listened for any signs of breathing but found none. The man was old and gray and looked to be Mr. Ramirez. The rage inside him started to build. How could anyone attack an old man especially a veteran?
Looking around he saw signs that the 'Nam vet had put up a fight, and near the corner of the bar where the living room met the kitchen lay another body, badly bruised and bloodied. This must of been one of the attackers, he thought. He appeared to be in his mid twenties and stocky and Caucasian. Standing, he walked over to the other body and nudged it with the toe of his brown boot. The boy moaned softly but didn't move. Johnathan had to resist the urge to beat this punk up more, so he turned and went into the hall and called the police. The dispatcher was polite and remained calm throughout the call.
"Kenton City Police Department. What is your emergency?"
"A friend of mine's dead. I think he was robbed."
"Where are you?"
"Kenton Apartments. Thirteen Broad street. Send an ambulance. One of the attackers is still alive."
"We'll have units there momentarily."
He had to stay on the line until the police arrived which was about fifteen minutes. Once they arrived along with the ambulance, he was allowed to hang up and was taken aside for questioning. The police quickly taped off the area and began to examine it as the paramedics rushed the beaten and battered attacker to the hospital. Finally, a graying and haggard cop came over and stopped a few feet from him.
"He put up a heck of a fight for an old guy."
"Yeah well, he was a hell of a man."
"Did you see or hear anything?"
"Yea, gunshots. Three of them."
The cop nodded and wrote down the information and then looked up again. Finally, he spoke:
"We're going to get the guys that did this."
"Good."
Johnathan had to stop himself from saying anymore, because he'd rather see the perpetrators suffer for what they'd done. But he knew they'd get what was coming to them as soon as the punk in the hospital ratted out his compatriots. The cop walked away telling him to stay in town and to be available for a follow up interview if it were needed. Nodding Johnathan walked past the scene and headed downstairs and to the chilly air of a Kenton winter.
 darth acheron · Thu Dec 09, 2010 @ 10:25pm · 3 Comments |
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