Free Call Me Joe by Steven J Patrick Page B

fucking smart ass off my turf."
     
    "You misunderstand me, son," Jack said, stepping in nose-to-nose with the guy. Look out, I thought wearily. "This may well be your job site, but it is also my land."
     
    A flicker of amusement flashed across Sarge's face.
     
    "This land is held under a 30-year lease by Pembroke Property Ventures and their partners.  That's who I work for. We got leases and permits all legal, all proper."
     
    He spat on the ground next to me. A small drop landed on my boot.
     
    My vision went red around the edges and I had that curious out-of-body sensation that sometimes happens when my temper threatens to get the best of me. As always, I counted slowly to five, struggling to keep calm instead of doing something stupid.
     
    Jack just smiled and stretched in a way that managed to be both nonchalant and blatantly insulting. Sarge stiffened and his ears took on a distinct red tinge.
     
    "Son," Jack smiled, "when I said 'my land,' that wasn't some vague ancestral claim and it wasn't a figure of speech. In fact, I, along with P.P.V. and Doctor and Mrs. Clay Wright, own this lease you just made reference to."
     
    "Bullshit," Sarge grinned.
     
    I glanced over at an older guy behind the Sarge-unit. One old soldier can usually spot another. If you're good, you can even make a fairly educated guess about the guy's branch, rank, and M.O.S.
     
    I knew this guy was military, just as I knew the Sarge-thing had never worn any other uniform in his life.
     
    "Semper fi," I nodded to him.
     
    He smiled lazily and moved away from the Jeep.
     
    "Yep," he murmured. "Did that. Not you though."
     
    "Swabbie," I nodded.
     
    "Southeast Asia?" he asked.
     
    "You wanna shut the fuck up back there?" Sarge growled.
     
    "Son, you interrupt me again and I'll stick that fancy satellite phone of yours up your ass," the older guy said mildly.
     
    "Jesus Christ!" Sarge growled. "The next person who calls me 'son' is gonna get his ass beat. As far as you three are concerned, I am God. Got it?"
     
    "Son, you're not fooling anybody," I smiled. "Now zip that thing up while the grownups talk."
     
    He was a big guy who showed evidence of a lot of free weights and road time. That kind almost never actually has a physical conflict because their size and physique are usually enough.
     
    He came in too high, just like I knew he would, winding up for what would probably have been the most pathetic roundhouse ever thrown outside of kindergarten catfights.
     
    The guy was so pitiful I almost laughed. The angry red mist blew away like dandelion fluff. Far from delivering the six-week hospital stay I had intended, I settled for a sort of 3/4 –strength shot just below his sternum. He doubled over and puked on everything from his Sam Brown belt down as he fell. He hit on the side of his face and rolled into a fetal ball, whimpering as he labored to suck in air through a frozen diaphragm.
     
    The older guy came over and looked down at him as though deciding whether to step on a bug or go around it. Now that I could read it, his name tag said Allen Simmons.
     
    "Went kinda easy on him, didn' cha?" Simmons chuckled.
     
    "I'm a bleeding heart liberal," I shrugged. "I don't pick on the less fortunate."
     
    "Huh," Simmons replied. "I'm a democrat myself. Not quite a liberal, though."
     
    He turned and kicked the Sarge squarely in the ass. It looked like it had to hurt.
     
    "You'll…" Sarge gasped," "You…guys all…saw that. Jarrett…Franklin! Ar…arrest him!"
     
    "Saw…what, sir?" one of the guards said. They all wore big goofy grins.
     
    "God…God…damnit," Sarge gasped, "Simmons…you're fired!"
     
    "No," Jack said, squatting down to look at him. "Actually, you're fired. I don't need some tin-plated bully like you out here dealing with the locals."
     
    "Nobody fires me but the guy who hired me!" Sarge said, recovering. He started to get up.
     
    "Stay down there, kid," I said quietly. " You get up, I'll drop you