The Best Defense
By Don Stoddard
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About this ebook
After recovering from a gunshot wound which forced his retirement from the elite Crime Prevention Unit, Detective Justin Wade wasn’t looking for work. However, when approached by Bill Martin with a lucrative bodyguard position, he reconsiders. A ruthless gang of murderers have forced Bill’s daughter and granddaughter into hiding inside an antebellum farmhouse.
Wade devises and executes a plan to capture gang members. To fulfill the assignment, the detective must confront the beautiful woman he’s assigned to protect, and her pacifist ideals.
Years of police training, however, hadn’t prepared Wade for a ghostly specter that dwells inside the home.
Don Stoddard
Don Stoddard was born in Washington D.C (at an early age) and resided in that renowned metropolis until he ventured forth to seek an education and thence (hopefully) his fortune. During a varied career, he has held many positions including police officer; certified public account, finance director, controller, and executive director of a large membership organization. Don resides with his wife in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where he continues to write his deathless, (or is that “deadly?”), prose.
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The Best Defense - Don Stoddard
The Best Defense
A novel by Don Stoddard
Smashwords Edition
Copyright, April, 2012 Don Stoddard
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Contents:
Acknowledgments
Prolog
1 The Interview
2 Bugged
3 Security
4 Outside Help
5 Looking for Leads
6 The Search
7 Disinformation
8 Getting Ready
9 The Farm
10 The Lady of the House
11 Getting Acquainted
12 Checking Things Out
13 Settling In
14 The Game Begins
15 Research and Planning
16 In the City
17 Getting our Ducks in Line
18 Building a Trap
19 Meeting the Other Guest
20 Under Siege
21 Springing the Trap
22 The Fish is Hooked
23 The Cat leads the Rat to the Cheese
24 Recounting and Moving On
25 Life Goes On
26 More Planning Little Results
27 The Storm
28 Harley
29 The Attack
Epilog
About the Author
Acknowledgements:
I owe a debt of gratitude to Diane Gregg, Thomas Stoddard, and Kevin McArthur for their tireless efforts in reviewing, revising, and editing this work. Applying their expertise they have significantly improved the book’s continuity, and readability, while significantly reducing the number of grammatical spelling and syntactical errors that are the bane of all authors. Their effort and encouragement are deeply appreciated.
PROLOG
The late fall sun shone on the scattered line of ragged and battle weary grey clad soldiers as they crouched near the edge of a line of tall leafless trees. There had been a brief pause in the fighting and the order had come down for them to take a break and rest while they were still hidden by the trees. The scattered fighting had begun well before dawn and it was now near noon and this band of victorious but war weary warriors had had no chance to rest. The day had dawned cool but by late morning, it was turning uncomfortably warm.
For one young soldier the sun’s warmth together with near exhaustion made his weary eyes close as he slumped against a tall tree, languishing between semi-consciousness and sleep. Just as he was crossing the line into sleepy oblivion, another tired soldier somewhere down the line dropped his canteen. The clank of the metal container striking a protruding rock and the curses of the boy’s sergeant startled the young warrior out of his momentary stupor.
Awake now, but still drowsy the boy’s sleepy mind began to wander.
I sure am tired of all this fighting and killing,
he mused. "You know Ma, I sometimes get the feeling that this damn war, sorry for cussing Ma, ain’t never going to end. But right now I’d give near anything if those gawd-awful cannons was to quit their terrible pounding. They been at it since before the sun was barely up enough to see good. I sure hope they’re killing a whole lot of those Yankees cause that noise is making my ears hurt and my head pains me real bad.
"I figured when the sun first rose up this morning all bright and shiny it was gonna be a beautiful Sunday. But wouldn’t you know it, that Grant fella done gave his boys the notion that they can overrun us Rebs. We been holdin’ Bobby Lee’s line now for two days and they ain’t done it yet, not even close.
"You’d think they’d have learned better by now. General Lee always outsmarts those dumb Yankee generals. But you know it really ain’t all that hard to figure out why; Ole General Lee he always picks the high ground, and even I know that’s the best place to shoot from. But them stupid Yankees just seem to want to walk right up the hill to our guns and die. You’d think that after all this time those danged idiots would know better than to attack Bobby Lee; ‘specially when he’s the one what picked this battle field and lined us up just where he wanted us to be.
"Early on in this cussed war, good Ole General Lee beat them at nearly every turn, but then that butcher Grant showed up and it keeps getting harder and harder to stop ‘em. We sure killed a mess of ‘em at Antietam Creek and Fredericksburg, but that was before that Grant fella showed up. Now it seems that no matter how many we kill, they just keep coming. It makes me think those rich folks up north don’t really care how many of their boys we slaughter.
"The sun’s way up now, and we been holding ‘em off all morning but it looks like they’re getting ready to have another run at us.
"Boy, I’m hungry. None of us has ate anything but stale rock-hard biscuits for over a week now. Gee Ma, I wish I was back home sitting down to that chicken and gravy you make every Sunday.
"But as long as I’m sitting here a wishin’, Lord, I would sure like a good pair of boots. The last decent boots I owned I got off a dead Yankee. They was good boots, but a mite too small. I finally traded ‘em to a Reb from Mississippi. The boots I traded for fit better but when I got ‘em they already had big holes in the bottoms and now there ain’t hardly no bottom at all and the stuff I stuck in them is worn clean through.
"Wow! That was close; I better quit gathering wool and keep my head down.
"Now I wonder why the Sergeant is jumping up and down waving at us. I don’t see nobody coming up in front. Oh, hell there they are. They done flanked us and are coming up that gully. I better haul out of here real fast. Lord knows I don’t move near as fast as I did a while back, but I should be able to put some distance between me and them Yanks.
"Oh! Momma that hurt. Something done hit me in the back, Ma, and knocked me into this here ditch. Then everything just went black for a piece. I think I must have been out for a while ‘cause I either got dirt in my eyes or it’s starting to get dark. I feel awful weak and ache all over but I can still move some, so I think I better get to it. Wonder what happened to my gun? I musta dropped it in the ditch when I got hit, but I can’t go back for it now.
"Gee Ma, I’ll bet I done crawled upwards of a mile since I woke up. I seen a farmhouse a while back and I been moving toward it but it don’t seem to get any closer. Oh man! I sure do hurt.
"Hold on now! What’s that over there under that bush? By golly if it ain’t a dog and a big one at that. Here puppy, come on over here. It looks like you been hit too. Why don’t you just wiggle over to me and I’ll give you some of my water. That’s a good boy, drink all you want. I knew you’d be thirsty.
"Well puppy, I’m heading for that house up there. Can you see it? Maybe the folks up there will let us come in. It’s going to get cold tonight and I don’t much care for spending the night with nothing covering me.
"Golly, my belly burns and I can’t seem to breathe too good no more. It gets harder and harder to move, and puppy it don’t seem like you’re doing much better than me. Maybe we should look for some place real soon to hole up for the night.
"Look over there big fellow. See that hole right up next to that house I was aiming at? If we can get to it, we can crawl in and stay warm for the night. Come on I’ll try to help you, but I really can’t help much ‘cause I’m getting punier all the time. And gee I’m tired.
"Here it is fellow. I’ll crawl in and pull you in behind me. There’s some loose dirt and brush near the top. Once I get us both in I’ll reach up and pull some of that brush and dirt down over us and make it like a blanket. It’ll keep us warm and nobody will find us.
"Ah, I got it. That’s better. Have another sip of water and curl up here beside me. I’ll put my arm around you. Yeah that feels good, you’re nice and warm now puppy. Now let’s get some sleep.
Good night, Momma. I’m really tired right now, but I promise I’ll write you tomorrow if the folks in that house let us in and they have some paper. God bless you and General Lee.
1 THE INTERVIEW
The blue-tinted film attached to the inside of the plate glass windows failed to prevent much of the sun’s early morning rays from streaming into the spacious conference room on the twelfth floor of the stately Winthrop Building Complex. It was not an overly large room, as conference rooms go, but it was more than capable of accommodating a long table and chairs that occupied the space.
The sunlight that succeeded in penetrating the microscopically thin plastic barrier was strong enough to eliminate the shadows that had earlier darkened the corners of the room, and to make the polished surface of the large table gleam. Inside the room, in addition to the large rectangular oak table, were numerous plush black leather chairs abutting the table on all sides. Additional chairs were pressed against the surrounding walls; to be used on those rare occasions when meeting attendees outnumbered the tableside seating capacity.
A large beige telephone console with a number of buttons protruding from its smooth plastic surface rested on a table adjacent to the middle chair on the window side of the table. Its connecting cords were carefully hidden beneath the tabletop, down a leg and thence under the thick burgundy carpet.
Dust motes hovered lethargically in the still air, like slowly drifting planets barely visible in a clear daylight sky. Suddenly the dusty planets began to move violently as a dark suited distinguished looking man of moderate height; somewhat past middle age, opened the door and entered the room. He had a full head of neatly trimmed black hair streaked liberally with white strands.
He moved quickly into the office through a large heavy oaken door, and walked around the table and sat in the middle chair next to the console with his back to the window. He had pleasant even features, full lips and a neatly trimmed black mustache. His face was heavily lined but the deep creases failed to detract from his overall good looks and in fact seemed to add an aura of strength and gravitas to his already serious demeanor.
The man entering the room carried a thick manila folder, which he opened and dropped onto the table as he took a seat. He then proceeded to spread its contents across the gleaming wood surface. He extracted a pair of horn-rimmed reading glasses from an inside coat pocket, placed them on the bridge of his nose and began searching through the documents. Finding the folder he wanted, he opened it, leaned forward and began to peruse its contents.
He sat slightly hunched over the table studying the pages while making extensive pencil notations in the margins of many of the documents. His intense examination of the files continued for close to an hour. When he finally finished reading the last of the material he closed all but one file, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
From the faint smile on his face it appeared that he was satisfied with what he had gleaned from the documents. He slowly straightened and leaned back in the chair then looked absently at his watch. Startled at the time, he quickly leaned forward and pressed a button on the console. A muted bell tone could be heard faintly in the outer office followed quickly by a very pleasant feminine voice saying, Yes, Mr. Martin?
The man directed his voice at the console and said, Mrs. Roberts, has our applicant arrived?
Yes he has, sir,
the voice responded through the console. He arrived about ten minutes ago and is even now sitting in the reception area reading a magazine and enjoying a cup of coffee. Shall I send him in?
If you would be so kind, and ask him to bring his coffee with him. Oh, and would you please bring me a cup? You know how I like it.
The large oak door again opened and a man wearing a dark blue suit, starched white shirt and red tie entered. He was a little above average height with inordinately broad shoulders. His face was clean-shaven, roughhewn, and darkly tanned. He would not be considered handsome in the Hollywood sense, but would undoubtedly be attractive to many women. He had a high forehead and his thick black hair, sprinkled with newly emerging hoary hued strands, was relatively short and neatly trimmed.
As he entered the room his deep-set grey eyes quickly but carefully scanned the room and finally settled on the man behind the desk. He stared intently, almost rudely at the still seated man as he strode purposely toward the table. He moved with athletic fluidity and ease and with no hesitation or awkwardness, though his body language suggested that he was more than a little reluctant to be here.
A faint smile played across his face but did not quite reach his eyes as he approached the table and looked closely at the man behind it. He stood for a moment, then stuck out his hand and said, Good morning, Mr. Martin, I’m Justin Wade.
On Wade’s entry, the eyes of the man seated at the table had fallen to the file in front of him as if measuring the real man against the written word, but he immediately looked up when Justin spoke and abruptly rose from his chair and thrust his hand forward. Justin grasped the proffered hand with a firm grip that was returned with equal firmness.
Mr. Wade, I am very glad to meet you,
the man said in a deeply resonant voice. "Please sit down, here across from me. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting but I got absorbed in your very interesting file and the time slipped past me. Thank you for coming in this morning on such short notice.
I’m having a cup of coffee brought in, so please finish yours if you wish,
he added with a pleasant smile and gestured with his hand toward a chair opposite him.
Justin smiled and sat in the proffered chair facing the window but moved the chair slightly, angling it to avoid the direct light glaring in through the large windows. As he did so, he noticed a slight incongruous smudge on the otherwise gleaming table near to where Martin was seated. The angle of the light made the imperfection noticeable from his vantage, but, he thought, probably not from where Martin sat. It was an obvious anomaly, for the rest of the table literally gleamed from long and liberal application of furniture polish.
Putting this seeming trivial incongruity out of his mind for the moment Justin carefully placed his coffee cup on the coaster that the receptionist had provided him, leaned back and looked directly into the eyes of the man behind the table.
Without hesitation or any of the usual opening small talk, the distinguished looking man sat again and said, Shall we get right to it?
Then without waiting for a response he continued, "First let me introduce myself, I am William R. Martin the senior partner in this law firm, and I am closely related to those most involved with the position I will be discussing with you.
"The man who held the position, for which you are being considered, recently resigned. His departure was quite sudden and he gave no warning or notice. The reason I asked you to come in so hurriedly is that I think it is extremely important that there be no hiatus in the service he provided and so I wish to fill the position as soon as practicable.
Mr. Wade, ah do you mind if I call you Justin?
Justin nodded slightly, And if you will, please call me Bill.
Justin again indicated his approval but continued to look intently at the man behind the desk.
Good! Justin, you come highly recommended by Chief Donaldson and former Police Commissioner Weldon. You have an impressive record of accomplishments and though I think the file is reasonably complete, I do have a number of questions that I think will help me arrive at a more informed decision as to your suitability for the position.
Excuse me, Mr. Martin, ah Bill,
Justin quickly interjected in a low but strong voice, "I have no problem whatever answering any and all questions that you may have as they pertain to my professional experience and qualifications. But you should be aware that I am a seriously private person and my personal life is not open to frivolous inquiry.
"As you know, I am not acquainted with the duties of the position you are trying to fill, so before we start let me be upfront. I am not really sure I want to reenter the work force at the present time. Doing so would depend entirely on the functions and duties of the position you have open, and knowing nothing about the position you are trying to fill, I cannot say that I want the job. I agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to discuss possible employment only at the urgent behest of Chief Donaldson.
My disability pension from the police department is more than adequate for my needs so I am under no immediate economic pressure to seek gainful employment. That said, I must admit that after nearly six months sitting on my duff I would certainly consider taking a challenging position, preferably in the field of security or law enforcement. But it would have to be a lot more challenging than a mall cop watching for shop lifters or a rent-a-cop imitating a wooden Indian in a bank lobby.
Martin laughed and said, "I think the