Free The Daisy Ducks by Rick Boyer Page B

soldiering was
concerned: a Navy SEAL. But I'd heard amazing things about the SEALs.
Scary things. Apparently their training included some sort of
dehumanizing process that was much more pronounced than the ordinary
military variety. Some people said the SEALs were the closest things
to killing robots ever produced. I hoped that one of the Ducks knew
his whereabouts. Certainly knowing only that he was on the continent
of Africa wouldn't do us any good. But even if I could find out where
he was, I wasn't sure I ever wanted to get within five miles of him.
    Just before ten the overseas operator rang up, saying
I could place my call to Manila. I talked briefly to the staff at the
VA hospital. Information on patients was strictly confidential. I
said I understood, but could they tell me if Bill Royce was currently
a patient there? They said they'd check, and they did. Bill Royce was
no longer a patient. He had been discharged in late June. Where had
he gone? They didn't know or wouldn't say.
    I brooded over this interesting piece of news,
thinking how timely it was that Royce was sprung just a few months
before Vilarde disappeared. Probably just coincidence.
    Afterward, I read magazines until midnight. Actually,
I looked at the pages and pictures and thought about Mary and me, and
what the hell was happening. What was happening? Then I trudged
upstairs. Mary had been asleep for an hour. At one-thirty the phone
rang. In a panic, I grabbed it. It was either a crank call or an
emergency. Like any parent with children away from home, I dreaded
the late phone call.
    "Chief? Hey chief!"
    The voice was heavy and slurred. The man sounded
black. I brusquely told the caller he had the wrong number and hung
up. But just before I returned to sleep a thought slipped into my
head, and before I fully considered it, the phone rang again.
    "Hey chief! That you?"
    "Is this Mike Summers?"
    "Yeah, tha's right. Who's this?"
    Summers was apparently calling from the Blue Flame
Lounge. A saxophone squeaked and honked in the background. There was
the loud murmur of a crowded night spot.
    "This is Charles Adams. I'm a friend of Liatis
Roantis, who's just recovering from a gunshot wound. Can you talk for
a minute?"
    Mary had turned on the light. She sat up in bed,
squinting and frowning.
    "Yeah I can talk. On your nickel. I'm about
busted, man. Where's Roantis?"
    "In the hospital. It's a long story. Can I call
you back tomorrow morning?"
    "Yeah, lemme give you a number."
    "Who is it, Charlie? What time is it?"
asked Mary.
    "It's late. It's one of the Daisy Ducks:
Summers."
    But Mary was unimpressed.
She was even annoyed, and frumped back down and turned over,
growling. I copied down the number Summers gave me and went to sleep.
    * * *
    "And so that's it. Royce is out, but God knows
where. Maybe he isn't exactly sure where he is. That leaves Jusuelo
and Vilarde not pinned down. Your guess is still as good as mine."
    Roantis squinted at me over the rim of his glass. It
was a novel experience seeing him drink water. He sank back on his
pillow and stared at the ceiling.
    "How did Summers sound to you?" he asked.
    "Wasted. He was drunk when he first called me
and shaky as hell next morning. It seems the security firm just fired
him too. He doesn't know how long he can keep his tiny apartment in
the ghetto, and his mother is moving to her sister's in St. Louis. I
think when she splits he'll go down the chute real fast."
    "Shit," murmured Roantis under his breath.
He shook his head slowly back and forth on the pillow, then lighted a
Camel. I don't know how he got the cigarettes; the doctors had nixed
them. "I tell ya Doc, this soldiering sucks the heart right out
of you. Then it takes the center of your soul and rots it away.
Summers had a lot of potential. A shame."
    "I'm going out to Texas to see Kaunitz in
March."
    "Yeah? Good. Freddie's a good kid. Kid? Hell,
he's pushing forty by now. He speaks good Spanish, you know."
    "So?"
    "Just crossed my mind. I