BooksBarbecue
Back Angels of Vengeance
Chapters (68)
  1. Blurb
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Dedication
  4. CHARACTER LIST
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. TWO MONTHS LATER
  60. ONE YEAR LATER
  61. TWO YEARS LATER
  62. FOUR YEARS LATER
  63. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  64. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  65. Also by John Birmingham
  66. ALSO BY JOHN BIRMINGHAM
  67. Copyright
  68. Cover

‘Yes, you remember now? Hatches, matches and dispatches. That newsletter covers them all. And, of course, Bret was quite the fifteen-minute celebrity for a while there. Army Times correspondent, one of what, half a dozen who survived the Wave? He wrote some great dispatches out of Iraq. Pulitzer Prize-winning stuff, if there’d still been a Pulitzer Prize. So, yeah, when an old boy of the 75th Ranger Regiment makes good like that, and marries himself a pretty girl, it’s a feel-good story. The sort of thing that gets a good run in the old boys’ newsletter. You know – to lift the spirits. People have been so darn gloomy since the end of the world.’

She said nothing.

‘It was the old man who remembered you. Well, not you, but your husband. The Governor doesn’t wear the uniform anymore, of course. Wouldn’t be right. But he keeps up with the regimental news, makes sure to get along to the annual reunion. It’s good politics, if nothing else. We have a lot of Rangers down here. Soon as he met you, bells started ringing. You are a good-looking woman, Caitlin – the sort a man would remember. He had me scouring back issues of the newsletter, convinced he’d seen a story on you there. And he had. But not about Colonel Murdoch. No, the story he’d seen had been about the wedding of old-boy-made-good Bret Melton to a USAID staffer, Caitlin Monroe. And there you were, pretty as a picture. But really, Caitlin, a white dress? In your case, I think not.’

Still she gave him nothing. It wasn’t Bret’s fault. He’d sent a photo to an old army buddy, a guy who hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding. The way old buddies do.

‘I can see you calculating the odds and the angles, Caitlin,’ he said. ‘So if you want to unburden yourself of that awfully heavy handgun you’re carrying, and any USB sticks or data disks you might’ve used to copy my files, you’d make me feel a lot less like shooting you in the face.’

As she reached slowly for the weapon, all three men adjusted their stances. She slowly placed the pistol on the ground and kicked it over to them.

‘The phone is the data disk,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure you’ll want to pat me down. But it’s all in there,’ she lied. ‘Encrypted, I’m afraid.’