Full Blast. Don Pendleton

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      CHAPTER TWO

      Leverton, Arizona

      “The base is about five miles farther west,” Jack Grimaldi said, his finger tracing an imaginary line across the map.

      He had parked their rented SUV in the parking lot outside a diner beside the highway that ran through Leverton. It was a dusty town perched alongside a dusty road. Mainly timber buildings, with a few built from stone and even a couple of adobe structures, Leverton sat on the Arizona landscape, small and insular. Its location made it that way. On the far side of the town was a straggling tract of houses and a few trailers.

      “Let’s go check out the locals and see if they have anything to say about their neighbors,” Schwarz suggested. He pushed open the door, feeling the solid heat rush into the SUV’s air-conditioned comfort. He opened his jacket. “I hate this place already.”

      Grimaldi climbed out the other side, using the remote to lock the SUV. He joined Schwarz, and they made their way to the diner. The lot had a number of dusty pickups, a couple of cars and a semi-trailer rig.

      “You think when we go in the place the customers will go quiet and all stare at us?”

      Grimaldi shrugged. “If the local tough picks a fight I’ll let you deal with him.”

      “Thanks, partner.”

      “You don’t need to thank me.”

      Grimaldi pushed open the door. It opened with a soft squeak.

      “I’ll get around to oiling that some day,” a female voice said from behind the counter. The woman was in her thirties and attractive. Her hair, a rich chestnut, fell to her shoulders. She wore a while T-shirt and faded Levi’s jeans. Her arms and face were brown.

      Grimaldi smiled as he perched himself on one of the stools.

      “Coffee?” she asked.

      “For two,” Grimaldi said as Schwarz slid onto the next stool.

      Mugs were placed on the counter and the woman brought a pot to fill them. Her gaze kept wandering to Schwarz’s exposed shoulder rig.

      Schwarz had turned to check out the other customers. When he turned back to the counter, he was shaking his head.

      “What?” Grimaldi asked.

      “Not a flicker. None of them paid us the slightest interest.”

      “You watch too many movies.”

      “I lead a sad and lonely life.”

      The coffee was rich and hot. Grimaldi leaned over and picked up a menu card, scanning it.

      “House special is on the board,” the woman said, waving a finger at the chalked menu. “Ham, eggs, fried potatoes, spiced beans.”

      “That’s on here, too. Same price,” Grimaldi said, indicating the menu. “What’s special about that one?”

      The woman smiled. “It’s on the board.”

      Grimaldi thought about that for a minute. “Okay, ma’am, you got me there. Two house specials.”

      “Be a few minutes.”

      She turned and vanished into the kitchen area, returning to check their mugs before moving from behind the counter. She went from table to table, talking freely to her customers, refilling coffee mugs. When she returned to her place behind the counter, she topped up their mugs.

      “You fellers aren’t from hereabouts.”

      “Does it show?”

      “The suits give you away.”

      “See,” Schwarz said. “I said we should have bought those big hats and the fringed shirts.”

      “Fringed shirts?” The woman chuckled at the thought. “You boys must be from back east somewhere.”

      “That we are, ma’am. The big, bad city of Washington.”

      “Oh, my, I feel humbled in your presence,” she said, faint mockery in her tone.

      “Long time since I humbled anyone,” Schwarz said.

      “So what are you doing all the way out here?”

      Schwarz slid his ID wallet out of his shirt pocket. He laid it on the counter so the woman could see the Justice Department shield and the encapsulated card with his details.

      “Agent Tony Ryder,” she read, then studied Schwarz’s face. “The gun, I understand now. But you don’t fit your picture.”

      Schwarz reached up to touch his cheek. He was still showing bruising from his encounter with Khariza’s people at the wood-chip mill outside Bucklow.

      “Work gets a little rough at times,” he said by way of explanation.

      “I guess so.”

      “Actually he fell out of bed,” Grimaldi whispered.

      “Yeah? Well, I hope she was worth it.”

      Grimaldi laughed and even Schwarz cracked a grin.

      “Ma’am, I just hope your cooking is half as smart as your sense of humor,” Grimaldi said.

      “Why do you think I call it special?”

      The food, when it came, was good. The Stony Man pair ate without pause, realizing just how hungry they were after their three-hour drive. The woman, whose name was Louise, kept their coffee mugs filled. By the time Schwarz and Grimaldi had finished, the diner was almost empty. The only customer remaining was the driver of the semi-trailer.

      Louise collected empty plates and mugs, ferrying them into the kitchen. She wiped down the tables, then returned to her place and poured herself a mug of coffee.

      “You fellers have anything to do with Fort Leverton?” she asked out of the blue.

      “Should we?” Schwarz asked, easing his jacket off and draping it on the stool next to him.

      “Oh, come on, guys. I’m just curious. СКАЧАТЬ