After 8 years overseas, I was finally coming home. It had been a long flight and I was looking forward to collapsing into bed in a house, which I owned but had never seen. I was looking forward to exploring my new home and my new hometown. I was looking forward to a new start. No ties, no encumberments… just me. I had forged a reputation in the last 8 years as a loner. I was good at it… I enjoyed it. Having never been a social animal it was no stretch for me to carry my loner attitude into my work. In my line of work it was an asset. I had spent the last 8 years operating as a mercenary in the hill country of several Central and South American nations whose unofficial national export was the by product of the Coca plant. I had made a small fortune running search and destroy and intel gathering missions. The pay was good and that, combined with a few cunning and lucky investments had left me with a few bucks more than what I would need for the rest of my life.
After 8 years overseas, all I wanted was quiet anonymity and more than a few of life's creature comforts. I wanted big screen TV, stereo music, and movies on tap. I wanted clean sheets and soft pillows, hot showers at the twist of a tap and clean clothes every day. Most of all, I wanted peace from the screams that echoed in my dreams every night.
My nightly nightmares had been a feature of my sleep for the last year or so, and they were a big factor in my decision to retire at the tender age of 37. They were souvenirs from the many firefights and skirmishes I had been part of. They were accompanied by the faces and bloodied bodies of teammates and foes alike. I wanted escape and figured that a completely new start would be the way to go about it. To that end I had figured out where I wanted to live, then contracted a real estate agent to find and secure a house and some land for me. After 8 years as a mercenary I had the cash reserves to afford a quite reasonable 210 acres with a near new house, just outside of Richmond, Virginia. Maybe with a bit of rest and relaxation I could lay my ghosts to rest. As I picked up my duffel from the baggage carousel I began scanning the arrivals lounge for the real estate agent. Stupid really as I had never met him. All of our contact had been by e-mail; no phone calls or letters. I had arranged to have him pick me up at the airport, but didn't have any idea what he looked like.
With a sigh, I headed towards the Starbucks in the food court area. My priority was a coffee and a bathroom stop. I had the time for both as my flight had arrived in 20 minutes early. After ordering my coffee I headed for the rest room. After splashing water on my face I made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Staring back at me was a face aged beyond its 37 years. Not a pretty face but rather a rugged face, heavily tanned from constant exposure to the elements. Clean shaven with the lines of wear and tear very evident. A firm jawline and full mouth. I was proud that I still had all my own teeth and that they were in really good condition; large and white. I suppose if I had to pick an outstanding feature, it would have to be my eyes, piercing blue. Women had always told me that I had sexy eyes. Personally I couldn't see it. A full head of sandy blonde hair completed the picture.
Standing 6' 3", I was in good physical condition. Heavily muscled stopping short of a body builder physique; it was a body I was happy with. I had earned every ripple the hard way; constant hard physical graft. God I was tired. I needed that coffee. I finished up in the bathroom and walked back out into Starbucks.
"Would Mr. Craig Miller please come to the information desk." The announcement barely made it through the fog in my brain. I made my way out of the coffee shop towards the nearest skycap and asked directions to the information desk.
"Ten yards that way." he said with an ironic but sympathetic grin. I turned in the direction he was pointing and realized that I had walked past it as the announcement was being made.
"Thanks mate" I managed to mumble as I turned to the info desk.
"You paged Craig Miller?" I said to the bright-eyed young thing behind the counter. Before she had a chance to answer I heard a voice behind me.
"Craig Miller?" I turned and came face to face with a guy in his mid 30's. Well dressed in a casual way he was a couple of inches shorter than me and looked to be in superb shape. Blonde and curly with a dark closely trimmed goatee, he looked every inch the young professional. He grinned and thrust out his hand. "Matt Grey" he said by way of introduction. We shook hands as I asked, "I thought I would be meeting a Stevie Grey."
"My step-sister," he replied, "She got called away late this afternoon and sends her apologies. She said to let you know that she will be out first thing tomorrow to show you around properly and to complete the formalities. In the meantime, I am to give you a ride out to your place and make sure you get settled in for the night. Is that okay by you?"
"No problems at my end. Shall we get going? This is the sum total of my baggage, so I'm ready to roll any time you are." He grinned and with a 'follow me' gesture made for the doors. Slinging my duffel over my shoulder I followed in his wake.
Outside he ushered me to a mid eighties Mustang convertible. It was in immaculate condition, which I mentioned to him as I tossed my bag into the back seat and clambered into the passenger seat.
"Thanks. It was all I managed to salvage from my marriage, so I look after her to remind myself to be more careful in the future." He said all this with a big grin. He came across as being very straight up and open. I found myself warming to him. "Careful… no attachments." I reminded myself. I settled back into the leather upholstery as he pulled out and drove out of the airport. The next 15 minutes were passed in near silence as he drove me to the property I had never viewed except in photographs delivered via email. He obviously sensed that I wanted to be left alone and respected my wishes. Dammit! I was starting to like the guy. Maybe I could let him in enough to become a drinking buddy.
He was first to break the silence. "The house is totally bare as per your instructions, but Stevie and I thought you might appreciate the loan of a bed until you can get yourself sorted out. I had a spare in my guest bedroom so we dragged it out here. It is in the garage if you want to use it. It's nothing much but it's clean and firm. You can use it 'til you get sorted out. A car crate arrived for you 3 days ago, but as there was nobody here they brought it into town. It's in the vacant lot behind the office. Should be okay for a few days, so there is no hurry to get rid of it."
He paused, chewed his lip thoughtfully, and then went on hesitantly. "You have caused quite a bit of gossip around town. The property you bought was quite a high profile piece of land, so when it was sold, for cash as well, a lot of tongues started wagging. I'm sorry if this is none of my business but I thought you should know that you have reached celebrity status already. Relax… nobody knows what you do, but there are a few people speculating. So far Stevie and I have heard Hollywood producer, drug lord, Mafia kingpin, and disgraced plastic surgeon to name a few of the juicier ones." He laughed and carried on. "To tell the truth, there are only a few busybodies in town, but they do have a fearsome reputation for getting to the facts. Just thought I should warn you."
I sat in silence thinking about what he had said. I hadn't thought about the gossip angle simply because it was non-existent in the jungles of South America. Never mind… I would deal with it when I had to.
