Free High Hunt by David Eddings

in. Real plush.”
    â€œNice to have rich friends,” I said.
    â€œAnd don’t let that dumb face fool you,” Jack told me. “Don’t ever do business with Cal unless I’m there to keep an eye on him for you. He’ll gyp you out of your fillings—friend or no friend.”
    â€œSure wouldn’t guess it to look at him.”
    â€œLots of guys think that. Just be sure to count your fingers after you shake hands with him.”
    â€œWhat’s the deal with this—baby—whatever her name is?”
    â€œHelen? She’s married to some Air Force guy out at McChord Field—Johnson, his name is. He’s away a lot and she likes her nookie. Sloane’s had her on the string for a couple of months now. I tried her and then passed her on. Her Old Man’s a realmean bastard. He kicked the livin’ shit out of one guy he caught messin’ with her. Put the boots to him and broke both his arms. She’s real wild in the sack, but she’s got a foul mouth and she likes it dirty—you know. Also, she’s a shade on the stupid side. I just didn’t like the smell of it, so I dumped her in Sloane’s lap.”
    â€œYou’re a real friends,” I said.
    â€œSloane can handle it,” Jack said. He looked warily around the bar and then at the door several times. “Hey, let’s cut out. That Johnson guy might come in here, and I’d rather not be out in plain sight in case he’s one or two guys behind in his information. I think I could handle him, but the stupid bastard might have a gun on him. I heard that he’s that kind.”
    â€œI ought to be getting back out to the Fort, anyway.”
    â€œI’ll buzz you on out,” Jack said, pocketing Sloane’s five.
    We walked on out to the parking lot and climbed into Jack’s Plymouth. We were mostly quiet on the way out to the Fort. I was a little high, and it was kind of pleasant just to sit back and watch the lights go past. But I was a little less sure about the arrangement than I had been earlier in the evening. There was an awful lot going on that I didn’t know about. There was no way I could back out gracefully now though. Like it or not, I was going to get reacquainted with my brother. I almost began to wish I’d skipped the whole thing.

4
    T HE following Saturday I got out of the Army. Naturally, they had to have a little ceremony. Institutions always feel they have to have a little ceremony. I’ve never been able to figure out why really. I’m sure nobody really give a rat’s ass about all that nonsense. In this case, we walked in a line through a room; and a little warrant officer, who must have screwed up horribly somewhere to get stuck with the detail, handed each of us a little brown envelope with the piece of paper in it. Then heshook hands with us. I took the envelope, briefly fondled his sweaty hand, walked out, and it was all over.
    â€œYou sure you got my address, Alders?” Benson asked as we fished around in the pile for our duffle bags.
    â€œYeah, kid, I got it,” I told him.
    â€œ Les-ter ,” a woman’s voice yodeled from the parking lot.
    â€œThat’s my mom,” Benson said. “I gotta go now.”
    â€œTake care, kid,” I told him, shaking his hand.
    â€œBe sure and write me, huh? I mean it. Let’s keep in touch.”
    â€œLes-ter! Over here.”
    â€œI gotta run. So long, Dan.” It was the only time in two years he’d ever used my first name.
    â€œBye, Les,” I said.
    He took off, weighted way off-balance by his duffle bag. I watched him go.
    I stood looking at the parking lot until I located Jack’s Plymouth. I slung the duffle bag by the strap from my left shoulder and headed toward my brother’s car. It’s funny, but I almost felt a little sad. I even saluted a passing captain, just to see if it felt any different. It did.
    Jack was leaning