Project Chiron

  PROJECT CHIRON

  Project Chiron

  Copyright © 2017 by Ryan King and Dennis Griffin

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

  For More Information Contact:

  Three Kings Publishing

  115 Canterbury Court

  Princeton, Kentucky 42445

  [email protected]

  *******

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  Project Chiron

  by Ryan King and Dennis Griffin

  Copyright © 2017 by Ryan King and Dennis Griffin

  Dennis - To my wonderful wife, Julie

  Chapter 1

  The day was as perfect as Jack Winters could have dreamed. The accumulated tension slowly seeped out of his body as he drove south along I-90 towards the Gulf of Mexico. He didn't normally like loud music, but he had found a station that played good blues and turned it up, singing along as the warm wind blew through the open windows.

  His ringing cell phone broke the spell. Jack looked down and saw it was from the office. He groaned, turned down the radio, and answered it.

  "Cindy," said Jack trying to hide his exasperation, "I've only been on vacation an hour. What could possibly be the emergency?"

  "Sorry, Jack," she said. "Sonny Lyon's son got busted on a DUI and wants you to defend him. It will be his third strike if convicted and he'll see some time. I'm sure Sonny is more worried about his company stock possibly taking a hit over the negative publicity rather than little Dean Lyon."

  Jack sighed. "Can't someone else do it? You know I've already got a full load."

  "I know, but he asked for you specifically, and for what he's willing to pay, we're not going to tell him no."

  Of course, thought Jack. They always want the son of Supreme Court Judge Jeremiah Winter to represent them. As if his father's genius had been passed down to him like a prophet's mantel.

  "When is the hearing?"

  "Next Friday," she answered.

  Jack closed his eyes for a minute, but then snapped them open again remembering he was driving. "Next Friday, huh? What will I do with all that time?"

  "I know," she said, "but it's fairly cut and dry. Dean Lyon is guilty; they got him dead to rights and the police reports are all in order. You'll argue to keep him out of jail. Suspend his license for five years and probation for six months, I would say."

  Jack hated defending cases like this. It wasn't difficult, just not why he became a lawyer, but it was part of the job. Not every case could give you that sense of purpose while fighting or the feeling of exhilaration when it was won.

  "All right," he groaned. "See if you can push as much as possible till the following week. Even though it's a simple case, it won't keep Sonny Lyon from sitting in my office agonizing and talking about it for hours at a time."

  "Billable hours," she reminded him.

  "Still not worth it."

  "Maybe not to you," she laughed, "but we take it where we can get it. Business has been a little tight lately."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know," he answered. "Was there anything else? You sure you don't need me to argue a case down here at some little town or something? Maybe give some legal advice to the Cajuns in return for discount shrimp or something? You know all you have to do is ask."

  "Ummm, I like shrimp," she said. "You're such a dear to offer. Make sure they're the big ones. And deveined, too. I hate seeing all the ick in there."

  "Goodbye, Cindy."

  "Bye, Jack. Enjoy your vacation. We'll try not to bother you again."

  "Thanks," said Jack putting his phone away and turning the music back up. It was one of Stevie Ray Vaughn's early songs. It reminded Jack of Rhino's, a blues bar he and his friends used to go to near the Louisiana State University campus. On Thursday nights, they had quarter-dollar Buffalo wings and three-dollar pitchers of beer. And they always played good blues. That had been nearly ten years ago.

  Ten years, Jack thought, where did it all go?

  Jack and his friends had spent a lot of good times at Rhino's. Goofing off and enjoying life and talking about how they were going to change the world. This annual get-together was a way to recapture some of that magic. Jack looked forward to it all year long, and this was his year to pick the location.

  Bog Island hadn't been a difficult choice. As a matter of fact, it had been on his mind lately with the recent death of his father. Jack and his dad used to vacation there in the summers to fish, but with Jeremiah Winter's long fight with multiple sclerosis, they hadn't gone since Jack had been in college.

  Jack realized he missed his friends, too. The six of them had somehow come together at LSU, by chance and strange circumstances, from different backgrounds and locations, but they had fit perfectly. Jack had friends and acquaintances at work, but none were as close as those from those sunny college years.

  The miles rolled away as he reminisced and his smile slowly returned. Jack was surprised when he saw the sign for Avery Island ahead. He looked at the clock and realized it had been nearly ninety minutes since his call from Cindy.

  He made his way through town to the marina where he spotted Charles Haywood instantly. It was nearly impossible not to spot Charles Haywood. The black man was nearly six foot six. Even a decade out of playing defensive end at LSU, he was still a rippling mass of muscle. As usual, he was surrounded by a group of young boys. Charles was an assistant principle in North Louisiana at Tallulah High School and had always had a way with kids.

  Charles looked up and smiled as Jack got out of his car.

  "...and that my friends is why you never, ever go coon hunting with someone crazier than yourself," he told the enraptured boys. "Now, I've got to go say hello to my good friend over there. You all stay out of trouble." The kids smiled and waved as he jogged over towards Jack's car.

  Jack stuck out his hand, but Charles ignored it, engulfing him in a monstrous hug. The big man had always been a hugger, but Jack was also slightly claustrophobic and had to fight back the feeling of panic as Charles slapped him sharply on the back several times to emphasis his embrace. Jack waited it out, knowing from habit that three mighty slaps would signify the end of the hug and hopefully not knock his heart out of rhythm.

  "Good to see you, my friend," Charles said after finally releasing Jack.

  "And you," said Jack. He was grinning foolishly, but so was Charles.

  "Sorry to hear about your dad," Charles said, his smile melting away slowly. "I wanted to come to the funeral, but my boss's wife went into early labor with twins. They needed me to play at being school principle for a week."

  "I understand," said Jack. "The call meant a great deal."

  They stood awkwardly for a few seconds.

  "Soooo," said Charles finally, "this is your show, brother. What are we going to do? I got to tell you I'm a little nervous about what you're laying down right now. You ever see the movie Deliverance?"

  "No, I don't think so," answered Jack.

  "Well, it starts out a lot like this vacation," Charles said while shaking his head in slow motion for extra emphasis. "It did not end well, believe me. These Cajuns are just as crazy as those Kentucky hillbillies I bet."

  "Don't worry," Jack laughed. "Besides, you're as big as a damn alligator; who would mess with you?"

  "You know Cajuns eat alligators," answered Charles solemnly. "Maybe they want to see how ole Charles Haywood tastes cooked over an open fire smothered in barbecue sauce."

  "Damn, that does sound good," answered Jack dreamily.

  Charles punched Jack lightly in the shoulder, but it was still enough to knock him backwards.

&
nbsp; "Let's go sign for our boat, then we can load up," said Jack rubbing his shoulder.

  A half hour later their twenty-foot boat was loaded with coolers of food and beer. Jack also stowed away their fishing gear and bait.

  "Hey! It's Heather," yelled Charles, jumping from the boat to the dock and in the process causing the twenty footer to rock noticeably from side to side.

  Once Jack was sure the boat wasn't going to take on water, he looked up to see Charles hugging a beautiful redhead who smiled down at him. Charles let go of her and grabbed her backpack.

  "Hey, Jack," she said, "permission to come aboard?"

  "Permission granted," Jack answered, taking her hand to help her onto the deck where they also hugged. The sweet smell of Heather's hair caused pleasant memories to flood into his mind. Jack and Heather Daniels had dated for a while in college, and had been able to end their romantic entanglement without upsetting their little group dynamic.

  "We picked a good time of the year to do this," Heather said once they had separated. "The New Orleans Port Authority shows clear weather all weekend."

  "You still like working there?" asked Charles. "I've heard it can get pretty hectic managing all those ships coming in from all over the world. Not to mention having to deal with labor disputes, or new customs regulations, or an environmental scare."

  "It does keep me busy," she answered, "but that's one reason I like it. Every day is different, and I know if we don't keep the ships moving that a farmer in Nebraska won't have gas or a mom in Tennessee can't put bananas on her kid's cereal."

  "Yeah, you keep up the good work." Charles looked around as if something had just occurred to him. "Hey, where are we supposed to sleep?"

  A new voice spoke from the dock, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm sleeping inside a tent with mosquito netting. Those buggers will flat out drain you dry this time of the year."

  "Evan!" squealed Heather. "Come on down here!"

  The tall, thin man handed an exceptional amount of gear to Charles and then climbed into the boat where he was hugged simultaneously by Charles and Heather. Jack held back, but then joined in with a smile.

  "How's the accounting business going?" Heather asked after everyone had separated.

  Evan looked a little embarrassed. "It's good. They've made me a named partner."

  "A partner?" asked Jack. "That's a big deal. So instead of Simon and Kestler CPA, it's…?"

  "Simon, Kestler, and Athers," answered Evan with a smile he could no longer hold back. "Biggest CPA firm in Port Allen."

  "Well, I'll be," said Charles. "Good for you!"

  "Thanks," said Evan. "Where's Brian and Amanda?"

  Jack checked his watch. "Should be here any minute. Amanda was picking her brother up at the airport. He was able to get leave this year."

  "How's he doing?" asked Heather. "I heard he got shot up over in Afghanistan."

  "Amanda says he's doing okay," Jack answered. "He's more upset about losing a few of his men than his injuries."

  Charles shook his head. "I can't imagine that kind of life, but Brian was determined to join the army. I bet he's good at it."

  They all nodded. It had been a shock to all of them when Brian had enlisted the day after graduation. He could have done anything with his mechanical engineering degree, but he wanted to be an infantryman. Jack had suspected that Brian's choice had been emotionally driven based on the September 11th attacks and that he would leave the army or change jobs given time, but over a decade later, their friend was still serving faithfully.

  "When was the last time Brian was able to come on our yearly get-togethers?" Evan asked.

  "Been at least four years," answered Jack.

  "Five," said Charles. "He was with us the year we went to Key West, but not the next year in Gulf Shores."

  "I hope he's okay," said Heather. "They say a lot of vets are coming back...different."

  "My gorgeous lady," said a booming voice. "Don't you worry about Brian Winston. I'm here and I'm as right as rain."

  A short, stocky, muscular man with a shaven head walked down the dock towards them. He had a broad grin on his face and carried a gigantic camouflaged backpack as easily as if it were filled with nothing but pillows. A pretty blonde followed, and it took no more than a cursory glance to recognize the two were twins.

  "Well, if it isn't the Winston kids," said Charles. "Up to no good, I bet!"

  "You know it," answered Brian, tossing his pack into the boat and hopping down among them, surprising Charles with a hug before the big man could respond. Brian moved quickly from Charles onto the others, shaking their hands and hugging them.

  Jack looked in his eyes when they came together. Brian's twin sister had been in pre-law with Jack, which is how he had met Brian.

  The two hugged and Jack whispered to him. "It's good to see you. Are you okay?"

  Brian pulled back; his face was serious. He looked around and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "I know you all heard what happened, but I'm fine. Seriously. This getaway is exactly what I need."

  "You're not the only one," said Evan.

  "Come on down here," Heather said, holding her arms out to Amanda who still stood on the dock.

  After a second's hesitation, Amanda Winston hopped down agilely into the boat. Like her brother, she was short and muscular, but where he was stocky, she was wiry and lean, as befit her status as an avid tri-athlete when she wasn't working as a state prosecutor in Baton Rouge.

  She received hugs and smiles from each of her friends. As usual, she wasn't nearly as outgoing and exuberant as her twin brother. Even so, Jack thought she seemed more reserved and pensive than normal.

  "Okay, so it looks like we're ready to go," said Charles. "Jack, Mister Tour Guide and Master of Ceremonies, where is our destination?"

  "Bog Island," answered Jack.

  "What?" said Evan. "Sounds...swampy."

  "It's fine," said Jack. "My father and I used to go there all the time. Don't worry, you'll see. Fishing is fantastic and hardly any people."

  "Oh, hell," groaned Charles. "This is going to be like Deliverance."

  "Like what?" asked Heather.

  "Never mind," answered Charles. "Just whatever you do, don't ask me to squeal like a pig."

  "I better write that down," said Heather. "Anyone got a pencil?"

  "Don't worry," said Brian. "Any crazy locals had better watch themselves around this bunch. Bog Island doesn't know what it's in for."

  "Yeah, we'll see," said Charles.

  The small group cast off the boat lines and pulled out of the marina to a beautiful carefree sunny day.

  For some of them, it would be the last day of their lives.

  Chapter 2

  Brian caught Charles looking at his bare legs again.

  "You know you're starting to make me feel a little uncomfortable about wearing shorts, big man," said Brian. "We're friends and all, but that's all it is, just friends. I'm very flattered, you know, but I don't really swing that way."

  "Are those scars from bullets?" Charles pointed, clearly fascinated.

  "No, those are burns," answered Brian. He pointed to several smaller puckered wounds on his calf. "These are from shrapnel."

  "Like from a bomb?" asked Heather.

  Brian nodded. "The vehicle was armored, but a mine went off right under my feet; most was absorbed by the vehicle, but a few pieces got through."

  "Sounds like you were lucky," said Heather.

  "Luckier than my driver," said Brian. "He didn't make it."

  An uncomfortable silence fell over the boat.

  "Look, it's okay, guys," said Brian. "Really. I know there's a lot in the news about soldiers going off to war and coming back all messed up, but I'm fine. It was bad to lose friends, but we're soldiers. We talked about it and we all knew the dangers. We all accepted the risks. It's part of the job."

  "And I think you've done your part," said Amanda. "You've been shot up and blown up. My brother has done enou
gh. Let someone else take a turn. You don't need to go back anymore."

  "Well, who is going to go?" asked Brian seriously. "We've talked about this. I get young kids every other month. Kids like I used to be. They don't know shit about shit, and if I don't prepare them, they don't have a shot at making it back home to their friends and family."

  "We appreciate what you do," said Evan.

  "I know that, and thank you," said Brian. "It's my job, guys. You don't have to feel bad for me or guilty. I chose this life and can quit any time I want."

  "Then why don't you?" asked Amanda with barely suppressed anger. "You can get a good job, get married, have a real life."

  Brian smiled sadly at his sister. "I have a real life. One that matters and makes a difference. I know you don't understand and that you worry about me, but trust me. This is my life. This is what I want for me."

  More uncomfortable silence filled the boat. The hum of the engine and the slap of the waves on the bow seemed unusually loud.

  "Hey, didn't we bring beer?" asked Charles, finally breaking the stillness.

  "Now that's what I'm talking about," said Brian. "We're supposed to be having fun. Pass me one of those brewsters, big man."

  Charles pulled out cold cans and handed them around to everyone except Amanda who waved the offer away, still angry.

  "So tell us a little about this resort island we've never heard about," said Heather. "I bet it's just like Ibiza only without the clubs, hotels, people, or beaches."

  "That's pretty much it," said Jack. "But keep an open mind. It's a nearly uninhabited island owned by the state. Much of the island is part of a national forest. Lots of wildlife and very peaceful. You'll love it."

  "How come I've never heard of Bog Island?" asked Heather.

  Jack shook his head. "It's not really popular since there's nothing to do but relax and fish. Could also be because the only way to get there is by boat."

  "And you and your dad used to come here?" asked Evan.

  Jack nodded. "My dad was always a big fisherman. We had an old black man from down in the bayou who worked for us around the house."