Garden of Lies by Eileen Goudge

Author:Eileen Goudge [Goudge, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-2296-6
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media LLC
Published: 2011-10-27T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

BRIAN ACCEPTED THE PINT of Glenlivet that Dan Petrie offered him. He tipped his head back in a long swallow, the whiskey burning its way down his throat. The last ten days in Okinawa had been the longest ones of his life, and he was trying—not succeeding, but sincerely trying—to get himself through one more endless day by getting royally blasted.

“Goes down cool in a hot climate,” said the cocky little Australian and laughed. “Last time I got pissed like this I was on a fishing boat in the Gulf of Mexico swilling black rum with Fidel Castro. If ever there was a bloke could match me dead on, drink for drink, it was that black-bearded sonofabitch. But you’re not doing too badly, mate. Trouble is, I don’t think it’s killin’ the bug you’re after.”

Brian focused on the sandy-haired little fellow seated in the orange plastic chair across from him. Petrie reminded him of a small-town Little League coach. The UPI correspondent was wearing a snaggly blue terry robe, his right arm in a sling, a navy bill cap pushed back showing the stubble of his crewcut. In the half hour since they’d struck up a conversation in the lounge on Two East, Brian had taken note of the cutting edge beneath Petrie’s easy banter. His sharp blue eyes looked as if they’d been bolted into his head, and he had a sly knack for appearing hardly to listen while soaking up every word that was said.

“I got the word today,” Brian said. “They’re discharging me. Less one kidney and three yards of intestine qualifies me for immediate DEROS and a Purple Heart.”

Dan tipped the bottle to his mouth, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “War’ll work wonders on your perspective, but it’s hell on the anatomy. You don’t seem too happy about it. Home, I mean, not the bleedin’ Purple Heart. Which unit did you say you were in, mate?”

“One Hundred Twenty-first Infantry,” Brian said, wiping the mouth of the bottle with the sleeve of his tartan robe before handing it back. “We were stationed about halfway between Da Nang and a village name of Tien Sung. Firebase Alpha.”

The pint-sized Australian nodded. “Yup, I know the place right enough. Ought to … I was there. Bloody hell of a mess. Looks like you got out just in time.”

Brian felt himself stiffen, his throat constricting painfully.

“You were there?” he echoed.

Petrie gestured toward the sling-supported arm with the nearly empty bottle he’d clutched in his good hand. “That’s where I picked up this souvenir. Piece of shrapnel the size of a bloody doorknocker.” He grinned. “Cracked me elbow in half. Now I’ve got two funny bones instead of one. But I’ll be all right.” He stopped, screwing a tight gaze on Brian. “Christ, I’m not so sure about you. You look like an undertaker at your own funeral, mate.”

Brian did feel queasy, a rolling seasickness taking hold of him. The lounge they were in—an ugly windowless

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