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Jack had been driving day and night for the past week, scrounging, extorting favors, and funds from anyone in reach. He had started in Central America but was now currently in the US. He had only stopped when necessary to fuel up his bike or eat, the sleeping he would do when he died. He found a certain irony in being on the Mother Road, it boded well for his idea, if things played out like he planned.
His train of thought came to a halt as lights and sirens flared up behind him. Flickering red and blue with a petulant wail. Disgruntled, but curious, Jack pulled his motorcycle to a stop on the shoulder of the road. The rumble of his engine, deep and throaty, continued as he refused to shut it off, instead pulling a cigar from his jacket. Jack also removed a lighter from a different pocket, lighting the cigar with it before replacing it in his pocket, while he pulled in a deep breath of cigar smoke.
The police officer strode to his side with an air of unassailable confidence and surety in his place in the universe. “You know why I pulled you over?” The officer’s voice was smooth yet retained an edge of demand and confrontation.
Pondering the question and finding no fault in his driving or speed, Jack shrugged eloquently. Exhaling a dense cloud of pungent cigar smoke directly into the officer’s face before giving voice to his response. “Because you are bored and curious what a man on a bike is doing riding Route 66 alone in the dead of night.”
The officer didn’t even flinch from the smoke or show any reaction beyond a considering glance. “Smells good, what brand? You nailed it though, I’m bored, and you are suspicious as all hell. Let’s see some form of license or ID.” The officer held out a waiting hand.
For a moment Jack thought about shooting the officer and being on his way, ultimately curiosity won out and he decided to play along. He handed the ID he had gotten from Ocelot back in Cypress while continuing to puff his cigar contentedly.
The movement of the officer was smooth and economical, no wasted movements as he looked from the ID to Jack’s face. “What happened to your face? Get hit with the ugly stick?” The words were blandly conversational, the humor almost as dry as the desert around them.
“Helicopter crash back in ‘75, wasn’t even supposed to be there. I should have been back at the base, lost a lot of good men.” The sincerity and frankness of the response surprised both of them. To hide his consternation, Jack puffed his cigar deeply.
“No shit, I was there too, brother, still don’t answer why you’re out here all on you’re lonesome. Being a vet don’t save you from being a shady mother fucker.” The officer’s voice was calm the whole time.
It was the slight shift in his stance and where his hands were placed that told Jack the man was serious. Impulse struck and words were up and out of his mouth before thought and consideration could catch up. “Well... officer... it’s like this. I am building a nation, for men like us. Men who came home from the horrors of war only to be spat upon and treated as vermin. For men who gave everything to their nation only to be left rotting in gutters or abandoned buildings. I am sick of the suffering our brothers and sisters face every day, no matter the nation they served. It all ends the same. Broken in body and mind and left to die by those they served with honor and courage in their hearts. Even the few of us who live after with some semblance of normality are scared both body and mind in ways others just don’t understand. You have a place there too, should you want one.”
The officer relaxed visibly as his jaw dropped. Shaking himself free of the daze of shock he asked his questions in incredulous tones, “You’re serious aren’t you?” He paused briefly watching Jack nod. “The last thing I expected was the truth. To be honest I was damn sure you were a drug or gun runner for a cartel or one of the biker gangs.”
Jack couldn’t help but to bust out laughing. “I am, in fact, armed and have several weapons in the saddlebags of my trusty bike here. Good instincts officer. I would like to invite you in a more personal sense. I could use a rough and tumble Leatherneck to keep things in good order and discipline. What do you say”
Snorting, the officer smiled wide. “Same thing I told that lying shit of a recruiter, where do I sign up? What do I call you though? Captain Jack?”
Jack smiled equally wide at the irony of the officer using his real name without intending to. “Call me Big Boss.”