A Price for Balancing the Scales Read online

  © 2019 by W. Earl Daniels

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

  ISBN: 9781696724913 (paperback)

  Chapter 1

  He looked down at the stub of his boarding pass and then up to the aisle and seat number…they matched. As requested, he had an aisle seat. He never liked to have to climb over another passenger to go to the restroom or to stand to stretch his legs, especially during the course of a long flight. He threw his carry-on bag in the overhead bin and flopped down in his seat without buckling up. He would do that once the person who would be sitting next to him arrived. One would think that after years of research and development, the airline companies could come up with more comfortable seats for passengers having to endure long flights. This was one of many thoughts running through Carl’s mind as he tried to find a more comfortable position…there was not one.

  As Carl sat there, he had never felt more like his life was that of a total loser. He had no job, had not been successful in finding one, and was not at all optimistic about the prospects of his next job interview. His wife had done exactly what she said she would do if he volunteered for a third tour to Afghanistan…she left him.

  Even then, he was confident that she was all talk and would be there waiting when he returned one year later. Six months into his tour, he received a key in the mail with a note that read, “This is the key to the on-post storage locker where your belongings have been stored. You may want to put it on your much-loved dog tag chain so that you won’t lose it. Soon you will receive divorce papers from my attorney. Because I am not asking for anything, please sign them and return them immediately so that I can start my new life without you. Have a good tour!”

  A somewhat high-pitched but raspy-sounding voice interrupted Carl’s ruminations. “Excuse me, sir. I have the inside seat.”

  Carl looked up to see a rather tall, distinguished-looking man dressed in an expensive business suit placing his large leather carry-on briefcase in the overhead storage bin.

  Carl, still in the military habit of replying in a formal manner, stood up and said, “Yes, sir.”

  As the man slid into his seat, he questioned, “Military are you?”

  “Ex,” was Carl’s reply as he thought, this man’s voice is a real distraction from his appearance. He must be a heavy smoker.

  “Well, congratulations and thank you for your service.”

  After sliding into his seat, the man sat down, fastened his seat belt, and retrieved a magazine to read.

  Carl sat down, buckled up, and went back to his deep and troubling thoughts.

  The story of my life, thought Carl. Every time things are going great for me, I have to push the limits until the consequences of my actions hammer me into the realization that I have just screwed up.

  His bad decisions seemed to begin when he was in high school. For two years, he was the star running back for the Chester High School Cyclones. College scouts were coming to see him play and to talk to his coach. Teachers were letting him slip by without doing some of the things he needed to do. Failing to turn in homework assignments or even a term paper was no big deal. All the girls wanted to be seen with him. And then he screwed up. Although he didn’t actively participate in what was going on that night, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Everyone was busted for being in a car where drugs were being used. As a consequence, Carl was kicked off the football team. A football scholarship was no longer a possibility, and none of his old friends wanted to be seen in his presence. He felt lucky just to graduate.

  A slight jerk of the plane brought Carl back from reliving what he viewed to be his demise. The plane rolled back from the boarding gate. His traveling companion looked out the window. Carl had no interest in the view, having seen the outside of Dulles Airport many times. Besides, it was already proving to be a dark night; the next time he saw daylight would be just before the plane landed at Frankfurt International Airport in Frankfurt, Germany. There the company he was interviewing with had arranged for a rental car to be waiting for him so that he could drive to their headquarters in Cologne, Germany.

  After several minutes, an announcement was made from the flight deck informing the passengers that the plane was the next to take off and for everyone to ensure that their safety belts were secure. Members of the flight crew scurried up and down the aisles, in some cases reminding passengers to buckle their seat belts.

  Carl relaxed, knowing that as soon as the plane was airborne and the word was given that seats could be reclined, he would do so in hopes of catching a few hours of sleep before he deplaned, passed through customs, and started the drive for Cologne. He was glad that he had had a previous military assignment in Frankfurt and knew his way to the autobahn that would take him north along the Rhine River to his destination.

  Carl felt the plane slowly lift from the runway and begin a wide turn toward a northerly direction before starting its Atlantic crossing. Without waiting for guidance that his seat could be reclined, he lowered it anyway and positioned himself for a nap.

  Try as he might, Carl could not find sleep. His mind kept racing back to how he got to where he was today. His mother and father had had marital problems for as long as Carl could remember. She was Hispanic and from the Washington, DC, area. His father was African American and from Chester, South Carolina. They met while she was attending the University of South Carolina and his father was a university security guard. After her night classes, he would escort her to her dormitory. After they married, they returned to Chester where his father quickly gained a reputation as an excellent carpenter. His mother taught school but never felt comfortable living in the South. She appeared to be more accepted in the community during the time Carl was enjoying his football-playing fame. After the incident that ended his sports career, it became evident that the only thing holding their marriage together was Carl’s high school graduation. His parents separated almost immediately afterward, and his mother returned to the DC area. It was then that he decided to enter the Marine Corp.

  Being an only child, Carl had soon discovered that the Marine Corp was the first real family he’d had. They cared for one another, and it was never more apparent than in combat. After boot camp, he volunteered for his first assignment in Afghanistan. Upon his return from that tour, Carl took a tour in Germany, where he was accepted into sniper school. It was during that time that he met and married who he thought both then and now was the love of his life. She was a dependent of a military family and seemed to have no problem with being the wife of a marine, nor was she troubled by the fact that upon completion of his training, Carl would return to Afghanistan. It was when he told her that he was volunteering for a third assignment that she put her foot down and said that if he went back again, she would not be waiting for his return.

  True to her word, she wasn’t. Foolishly thinking that if he got out of the corps he could win her back didn’t work. It wasn’t long before he learned that there was not much of a demand for a trained sniper. After interviewing for several jobs, Carl’s counselor arranged this meeting with a German software company looking for a security person to protect their vulnerability from attacks by terrorist groups.

  Carl had tried to convince his counselor that he knew nothing about antiterrorist operations, but he insisted that it would be good for Carl’s interviewing experience and his résumé; besides, the company was picking up the travel and lodging tab. So here Carl sat,
probably on a plane to nowhere.

  Chapter 2

  Huxton “Huck” Price, retired Special Forces colonel turned private detective, entered the front door of his house. He had just returned from his mailbox near the road, which was the cooldown quarter-mile walk he took after completing his three-mile morning run.

  When Huck entered the door, he ensured that he stood on the new rubber mat near the entryway. He secured the towel that had been placed on the coat hook on the back of the door, which he used to dry the perspiration from his body before going farther into the house. This was a one of many new changes he had experienced over the last six months. However, these adjustments couldn’t outweigh the contentment and joy that had come into his life. For the first time since his childhood days, he lived in a home rather than just a house.

  As Huck dried himself off, he was thinking, “how Cedric, his retired CIA partner, gave had given him some sound advice the day they were fishing on Price Island. Cedric was recovering from injuries he had received during their case to locate a friend’s son, and he advised that he thought Huck should ask Rose to marry him. Or, as he put it, “‘cast out your line to her’.” Fearful of rejection; and, considering his line of work, Huck didn’t think she would consider him to be a very good prospect for a husband...”

  They had met while Cedric and Huck were trying to locate Major Crook. Rose’s husband had been killed in Afghanistan, and she had unknowingly accepted a job in an attorney’s office that represented a drug cartel. For Huck, it was love at first sight. After the case was over, and to his surprise, they began emailing and calling each other. Their communications eventually led to Rose relocating to the DC area, where she obtained a job in what was then the officers’ branch of the army’s Military Personnel Center. From then on, they spent all their free time together.

  Huck finished drying off and put on the slippers that had been left by the door to prevent him from tracking his running shoes through the house. He could hear movement coming from the upstairs bedroom. He knew Rose was preparing to go to work.

  As he made his way toward the breakfast room nook, Huck reflected that when he finally asked Rose to marry him, she had said yes but with two conditions. First, because she enjoyed her job as much as Huck enjoyed his, she wanted to continue to work for a few more years. The second condition was that he scale his detective agency back from getting involved in dangerous cases. In short, when he and Cedric reached the point where danger was eminent, they would turn the case over to the legal authorities. He had agreed to her conditions and voilà! They had been married for a little over six months.

  Huck could not recall when he had been happier. Upon entering the breakfast room, he found a pot of coffee brewing, a half a bagel with a thin layer of cream cheese, and a cup of yogurt mixed with fresh blueberries waiting for him. This was another of the adjustments he had learned to live with. Previously, it had been at least two to three bagels, heavy with cream cheese, a couple of cups of coffee, and no yogurt. Rose had this thing about him eating healthier.

  Pouring his first cup of coffee, Huck heard Rose’s graceful steps coming down the stairs. Turning, he saw his wife at the foot of the stairway dressed in a beige pants suit with a blue scarf tied perfectly around her neck. She was the most beautiful woman Huck had ever known. Within a matter of seconds, they embraced, but she reminded him that he still smelled like he had just come from a run—and she had to go to work.

  “OK, OK!” said Huck, as he pulled her chair out for her to be seated. She had already set out a bran muffin and a small glass of orange juice for herself, and Huck poured her coffee. Once Huck was seated, he immediately began what had become a morning ritual after Rose’s arrival: Huck thanked God for the abundance of blessings they had received, the morning meal, the fact that they had each other, and for Rose’s safety in her drive to and from work.

  Afterward Rose asked, “My dear husband and the joy of my life, what are your plans for today?”

  “Well, I’m expecting Cedric around nine thirty.”

  Rose interrupted, “With no doughnuts, I hope.”

  Smiling, Huck replied, “No doughnuts. We’re going to put the final touches on the investigation we did regarding a divorce settlement. I plan to finish the written report while Cedric assembles the photograph portfolio. I think we can have it wrapped up a little after lunchtime so that Cedric can deliver it to the requesting attorney on his way back home.”

  Rose finished her coffee and stood up. “You boys try to stay out of trouble today, you hear?”

  Huck smiled and nodded in the affirmative. “You know we never have any fun anymore. We really don’t like working all these court settlement-type cases.”

  “I know, but it keeps the two of you safe.”

  Rose gave Huck a kiss on the forehead and started for the door.

  “Is that all I get?” inquired Huck.

  “We’ll discuss that further when I get home from work.” Rose gave Huck one of her seductive smiles as she went through the door, closing it behind her.

  After leisurely finishing his second cup of coffee, Huck cleaned up the breakfast room and bounced up the stairs to shower and dress, knowing that Cedric would arrive shortly thereafter.

  Chapter 3

  Carl was awakened by the words, “Excuse me?” Not realizing that he had dozed off, he opened his eyes and looked around to see who had spoken.

  Again the stranger sitting next to him said, “Excuse me. I need to get out.”

  Carl unbuckled his seat belt and stood up into the aisle. “Great timing. I also need a stretch.”

  The man passed Carl and headed in the direction of front of the plane toward the nearest restrooms. Carl decided to walk around some until the man returned. He started toward the rear of the plane where the galley was located in hopes that he might get a cup of coffee.

  After successfully obtaining the hot beverage, Carl headed back toward his seat. He found that the man had already returned, and he watched as Carl sat and buckled his seat belt. It was then that the man spoke.

  “Ex-marine are you?”

  “That’s correct,” stated Carl.

  “I was navy. After four years on a destroyer, I became an ex. Found out it wasn’t as exotic as the recruiter described it. He omitted the part about seasickness. Sure, we hit a few good ports, but the times between were really hell.”

  Carl laughed. “Yeah, I think I might know what you mean. Personally, I enjoyed the marines, but three tours in Afghanistan were a little more than my wife could handle. During my third tour, I received my Dear John letter.”

  “Sorry to hear that. The military life isn’t for everyone, certainly not me.”

  Carl’s only response was a slight chuckle.

  The man continued. “By the way, my name is Lester Storey…and yours?”

  “Carl…Carl Rouse.”

  “What did you do in the marines, Carl Rouse, or will you have to shoot me if you tell me?”

  Carl smiled. He was beginning to like his traveling companion. “No, I can tell you. My last two tours I was a sniper.”

  “Gee, you must really be good with a rifle.”

  Carl tried to minimize the experience. “It’s not too difficult when you have a good scope.”

  “Is your current employment taking you to Germany?”

  Carl thought, This guy sure asks a lot of questions, but what the heck? Maybe if he knows I’m unemployed, he might have something he can offer me. Carl replied, “I’m on my way to a job interview in Cologne.”

  “Well, if that doesn’t work out for you, you might drop by my office in Frankfurt. We just might have something that matches your skill set.”

  “Oh? What does your company do?”

  “Now we’re in the area where if I were to tell you, I might have to kill you.”

  Lester didn’t smile when he said t
his, and Carl wasn’t sure how to respond. “That being the case, I’m not sure I’d be interested in your employment opportunities.”

  “Carl, with you being an ex-marine, I think I can trust you to keep what I’m going to tell you confidential. Am I correct?”

  Carl nodded in the affirmative.

  “Good. Carl, I’m with a well-known alphabet organization whose mission is not well known. I’ll let you speculate on the alphabet, but because its mission is not restricted to US borders, you can rule out the FBI. I can’t say anymore other than that if your interview does not work out in Cologne, know that we are currently hiring those with your skill set.”

  Lester handed Carl his business card. “This is the name and address of our company in Frankfurt.”

  Reading the card, Carl saw that the name of the company was Empire Enterprises LLC.

  Carl said, “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Carl concluded that the guy must be CIA.

  Lester turned toward the window, suggesting that he was going to try to catch another quick nap before their arrival in Frankfurt.

  For a moment, Carl toyed with the business card. It was white and of a good stock. The words “Empire Enterprises” were printed in bold. Below the company name was written “Lester Storey, CEO.” And below Lester’s name in smaller letters was a street address in Frankfurt, along with a telephone number.

  Using his cell phone, Carl tried to find Empire Enterprises in Frankfurt, Germany, but had no luck. However, he did find that the 069 was the prefix to a Frankfurt telephone number. Turning off his phone, Carl concluded that if Empire Enterprises was a cover name for a CIA operation in Germany, he was not going to find that out over his phone or from any other source on the European side of the pond.

  Nevertheless, Carl could not stop his imagination from running wild. He would have never considered the CIA as a possible employer, especially in light of the fact that he had only a high school diploma. Of course, given Lester’s comments, the CIA was looking for someone with the special skills provided to Carl by the Marine Corps.