Hogs #3 Fort Apache by DeFelice Jim

Author:DeFelice, Jim
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Coyote, Inc.
Published: 2013-02-14T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 34

AL JOUF

25 JANUARY 1991

2350

The way A-Bomb figured it, every hour playing poker was worth two hours of sleep. The idea of sleep, after all, was to restore your creative powers and recharge your muscles. Poker did the same thing, only quicker. It was like taking a sauna, and in fact if you played cards perpetually, you’d never grow old.

Doberman nonetheless begged off, if “fuck yourself” could be understood as begging off.

A-Bomb eventually found his way into a game with some of Klee’s support staff; within a half-hour he was twenty dollars ahead in a quarter-limit game. They were conservative for commandoes, and had apparently not even heard of Baseball. He was just explaining the intricacies of the poker variant when a youngish staff sergeant appeared and called the officers to a meeting with the Special Ops colonel.

A-Bomb immediately decided that he and Doberman belonged at the meeting.

“Screw off and drop dead,” grumbled Doberman, when A-Bomb tried to wake him.

“Yo, Colonel Klee wants to see us.”

“Why, the war over?”

“Could be.”

Doberman turned, but only enough to determine from the lack of light that it was still nighttime. “Go away,” he growled. “Tell the colonel to eat shit.”

“He’s standing right here.”

“My ass.”

This was the sort of challenge that made it worth fetching the colonel and bringing him back, just to see the look on Doberman’s face when he saw that he actually had cursed out a colonel. But that would take too long, and he really wanted to check out the meeting. So he settled for merely shaking the cot.

“Hey, let’s go,” he told Doberman. “Something big’s got to be boiling. I was playing cards with half the guy’s staff and. . .”

“You’re out of your friggin’ mind.”

“Nah, they’re not that good.”

“Good night, A-Bomb.”

“If there’s anything going down, I want to be there. Maybe Dixon’s in trouble.”

Doberman rolled over. “Oh fuckin’ hell goddamn all right. Shit. All I want is ten god-damn minutes of rest in this country.”

“Shoulda come and play cards. Fountain of youth. That’s what I’m talking about.”

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