Sold Out (Nick Woods Book 1) Read Free

for the
beer and watched Colonel Russ Jernigan take a seat at the bar across the room.
This was going to be delicate, at best.
    What
the hell, he thought. If I blow it, I get to leave this shit-hole of a town and
get back to New York.
    He
crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, pocketed the Zippo, and walked up next to
Jernigan. He motioned for the bar tender, a young man with a hoop nose ring and
purple hair.
    “Can
I get some matches?” Allen asked, ignorant the fact he had a perfectly good
lighter in his pocket. This was all part of the act, though.
    The
eccentric man nabbed some from down the bar and laid them in front of Allen. Not
even glancing at Jernigan, Allen struck a match, lit a Marlboro, and flipped
his wrist three times, extinguishing it. He laid the smoking match on the
counter and inhaled deep. He blew the smoke through his nose and did his best
to look at ease.
    Nonchalantly,
he turned toward Colonel Russ Jernigan and said, “Hell of a night, huh?”
    “Yeah,”
Jernigan said without looking over. Jernigan was dressed like an officer:
khakis and a polo shirt. He looked out of place in the decrepit bar.
    Allen
waited a moment, glanced over at him, and said, “Hey, I think I know you.”
    Jernigan
turned and studied him, his eyes squinting. After perhaps five seconds or so,
Jernigan grunted, “No, I don’t think so.”
    “Yeah,
you’re uh, Jared, right? No, that’s not it.”
    Allen
started snapping his fingers, then buried his head in his hands in agonized
frustration. “Argh. I remember you, but your name slips my mind.
    Allen
looked up again.
    “It’s
uh, ah, don’t tell me. It’s, uh, Jenkins. No, that’s not it either. Hang on,
don’t tell me.”
    Allen
squinted and looked off to the side as if he were thinking hard.
    “No,”
Allen said, “I remember now. It’s Jernigan. Yeah, that’s it. Captain Jernigan.”
    Allen’s
target for months and months paled as if a knife had just been plunged into
him. He tried to play it off, but Allen knew he was nervous as hell.
    “You
may not remember me,” Allen Green said. “I was a nobody in Pakistan back in
’88.”
    Jernigan
took in Allen’s face again, searching the deepest depths of his memory for
Allen’s face, while trying not to show anything, which he was failing badly at.
He had been caught way off guard, without question.
    Allen
took the reaction, and the fact Jernigan did not deny ever being in Pakistan,
as confirmation of what one of his sources had said. His source had said, quite
incredibly, that the U.S. military had sent troops to Pakistan to operate against
the Soviets in the height of the Cold War. The troops were allegedly deployed
to Afghanistan in the latter stages of the Soviet Union’s invasion of that
country during the ’80s.
    This
fact had never been confirmed or reported in any publication. And, it was huge
news, in and by itself.
    The
U.S. government only admitted to arming Afghan Mujahideen against the Soviet
invaders, including giving the tribal fighters deadly Stinger anti-air missiles
that were capable of shooting down planes and helicopters.
    These
Stinger anti-air missiles had dramatically helped shift the war against the
Soviets since they were about the only thing capable of shooting down the
devastating, heavily armed Hind gunships. The Hind gunships had been made
famous in America by their role in the 1984 movie “Red Dawn.”
    It
was one thing for America to arm those fighting the Soviets. The USSR had done
the same thing back in the ’60s, arming the Viet Cong in Vietnam.
    But
to think that American troops had actually fought and killed Russians during
the height of the Cold War? That was insanely huge news. Perhaps the biggest
news story in decades.
    But
Allen knew there could be more. He had to hang onto his act a little longer.
    “Hey,
nothing to worry about,” Allen said, leaning toward his very nervous target.
“We’re both pro’s. Let me buy you a drink. This deserves