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Authors: J. Fritschi

BOOK: The Second Coming
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“Plus, there has to be something wrong with any woman who likes me that much.”

chapter
16

B
IG
P
ETE PEERED
through the haze of cigarette smoke that hovered overhead trying to locate Mike. People would joke about smoking inside The Precinct saying, “What are they going to do? Call the cops?”

“He’s in the back corner,” Lacy said as she motioned to Mike standing under a lighted beer sign with a cigar clenched in his teeth. He had a look of concentration in his eyes as he listened to a young man talking to him earnestly.

“Who’s the new guy?” Big Pete asked.

“He’s a rookie. His name is Axelrode,” she told him as she latched onto his right arm.

“Oh shit. The poor guy has no idea what he is in for.”

It was tradition for Mike to take the latest rookie to his favorite watering holes and get him fucked up. It was a kind of initiation and the closest thing to hanging out with a celebrity. Initiation nights had taken on legendary status. Most people didn’t have the tolerance to keep up with Mike because he seemed to get stronger as the night went on. One of the rookies nick named Mike ‘The Terminator’ after watching him consume everything in his path.

When a new graduate from the academy came into The Precinct for the first time, Lacy would tell the cocky young buck who Mike was explaining that it was tradition that all rookies buy Mike a shot their first time in.

Mike would then give the poor kid the same lecture he gave every other new swinging dick that came through the door and the next thing the kid knew he was on an all night bender with the legend. Depending on how the kid handled himself, he would either earn Mike’s respect or be embarrassed
every time he walked into The Precinct thereafter, trying to make up for his blunder, but never being able to. It was like a little brother trying to get his older brothers respect.

Few were able to keep up with him and earn his admiration, but after one night with Mike, all the rookies wanted his respect. That’s why everyone who was with the Oakland Police Department knew who Mike was. They had been on the other end of a story that for Mike was no big deal but, for the young cop, it was a night they would never forget.

It was a badge of courage to make it through the night with Mike and be able to tell your story the next time you were in The Precinct. The young cops would tell their stories with glowing pride and revelry each one embellishing their heroics from their night out with him.

Most of the young cops were just pretenders trying to make it through a night with Mike without getting into too much trouble so they could brag about it, but every once in a while one would come through that truly enjoyed Mike’s late hours of partying and could actually keep up with him. Those were the guys that became part of Mike’s inner circle, but there were few and far between.

The pretenders could never figure out why they didn’t receive the same adulation after their night with Mike. They tried so hard to impress him and were careful not to do anything stupid which was exactly the problem. Mike didn’t want some punk fawning over him. He would always be cordial to them but they knew instantly that they did not make the cut.

“I take it he bought Mike a shot,” Big Pete said with a shit-eating grin.

“He already got the speech and everything,” she confirmed.

“What’s his story?”

“He used to be with Army Special Forces. I think he might be able to handle himself.”

“We’ll see.”

Lacy let out a sigh. “I wish I could get him to let me in Big Pete. I don’t know what I have to do to get him to take me seriously.”

Big Pete looked down at Lacy with sympathetic eyes. “It’s not you Lacy. It’s him. Mike doesn’t know what he wants. He’s confused and afraid.”

Mike was toking on his cigar, listening to Axe, as he was now calling him, tell him about some battle in Afghanistan. Mike glanced up and saw Big Pete and Lacy standing by the doorway and smiled at them. Lacy looked
so tiny standing next to Big Pete and Mike felt a twinge of affection for her. She was a great gal and he knew any man would be lucky to have her, but he just didn’t love her in that way. He didn’t know why. He wished he felt stronger for her. It would make everything so easy. He tried, but it just wasn’t meant to be.

Mike held his hand out of Axe’s view and made like an alligator opening and shutting its mouth, indicating that he was stuck listening to the young man, even though that wasn’t really the case. Mike was enjoying trading war stories with Axe. He just didn’t want Big Pete and Lacy to think he was ignoring them.

Big Pete motioned with his thumb to the doorway. Mike shook him off and gave him the thumbs up. He could tell Big Pete was ready to leave, but he knew his night was just getting underway so he gave him the OK sign and waved good bye. He watched with an unexplainable feeling of melancholy as Big Pete leaned down and gave Lacy a polite kiss on the cheek as she stood on her toes and held his shoulders for support.

Axe stopped talking when he noticed Mike was distracted. “Everything alright?” he asked as he spun around to see if he could ascertain what was distracting him.

“Fuck yeah. I was just saying good bye to my partner.”

“Are you leaving?”

“I’ll tell you what, let’s finish our drinks and I’ll take you to a couple of places you’ve never been before.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“Bad news is your driving.”

“Shit, God Damn! I’m trained for high speed driving. Crash and Bang are my middle names.”

Mike chuckled. So far he liked this kid, but he had yet to prove himself. Now it was time to test his merit.

chapter
17

O
N THE DRIVE
back to his house, Mike had Axe stop at a few of his favorite bars and introduced him to some of his drinking buddies. By the time they got to Mike’s house, they were past the point of no return. Mike was on a roll and nothing could stop him, not even him.

Axe sat on a stool at the granite counter between the kitchen and living room. The living room had an L shaped leather couch and a rich hutch, with a flat screen TV.

Mike poured two glasses of Bourbon and placed a glass in front of Axe with a clank. “Salute,” he said as he raised his glass and took a swallow. “Wait here,” he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

When he returned, he was carrying a wood humidor with the Navy SEAL trident on the top of it. It was a gift from Gunnery Sergeant Baker. Mike sat kitty corner to Axe and set the box down like it held a great unspoken treasure. He silently lifted the lid and produced a rather large zip lock bag of white powder.

“What’s that?”

“Grade-A-shit my friend.”

“Heroine?”

“Fuck no,” Mike said firmly. “That shit will kill you. This here is pure Bolivian cocaine. Nothing quite like it in the world. It’s sure to make your toes curl.”

“I didn’t take you as a drug user.”

“Recreational use,” Mike retorted as he poured a small pile onto the counter and striped up two short lines. “Everything in moderation.”

“That’s not the word on the street,” Axe chuckled as Mike pulled out a thin, silver straw.

Mike glanced at Axe with bloodshot eyes. “What is the word on the street?” He asked as he handed him the straw.

“Word is you are hardcore and not to be fucked with,” he said as he snorted one of the lines and handed the straw back to Mike.

Mike held the straw to his nostril with a grin as he vacuumed up the other line. “They’re all a bunch of judgers,” he uttered as he pinched his nose and inhaled hard, sending the bitter flavor cascading down the back of his throat. God he loved that numbing feeling. He ran his forefinger over the remnants on the counter and rubbed it onto his gums. “They don’t know shit but they think they have me figured out,” he told him and then took a sip of his bourbon, the cocaine already causing his heart to race.

Axe dipped his finger into his bourbon and stuck it up his nose as he snorted his nostril clean and then, to Mike’s delight, stuck it in his mouth and sucked it clean.

Mike pulled out two Robusto-sized cigars and snipped the ends off, handing one to Axe as he placed the other one in his mouth. He clicked the torch-like lighter and it hissed as he applied the blue flame to the cigar until it was a brilliant orange ember.

He handed the lighter to Axe who repeated the process until billows of smoke hung magically in the canned lights over the counter.

“Why did you leave Delta Force?” Mike grumbled between clenched teeth.

Axe glared at Mike. He wasn’t supposed to know he was in Delta Force. That was classified information, but there was no point in trying to deny it now. “After 911, my roommate and I wanted to do something to help fight terrorism besides just talking about killing terrorists, so we enlisted in the Army,” Axe explained with a reflective gaze. “Before we went to basic training, Tom asked his high school sweetheart to marry him. When we were deployed to Afghanistan he told me that Denise was pregnant and made me promise that if anything happened to him that I would take care of them. We were both just kids and I didn’t think anything was going to happen to us so of course I agreed that I would take care of them if he would name his child after me.”

“So what happened?” Mike asked assuming that he knew the answer.

“Denise miscarried,” Axe explained remorsefully.

“Oh shit, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it was really hard on them being that far apart, but a couple of years ago Denise became pregnant again and this time she had carried the baby for about seven months so they were really excited.”

Mike took a sip of his bourbon as he prepared for the worst.

“Tom was getting ready to go on leave and was being extra careful to keep himself out of harm’s way when his vehicle hit an IED. It blew his legs off,” Axe said in a raspy voice as he choked back tears. “When I got to the vehicle it was too late. He had lost a lot of blood. The last thing he told me was to take care of his girls.”

“Holy shit,” Mike said under his breath. “That is horrible. I’m truly sorry.”

Axe took a sip of his drink with a steely gaze as he composed himself. “That’s when I decided to leave Delta Force before something happened to me and there would be no one to help Denise.”

“Did she have the baby?”

Axe nodded his head. “It was bitter sweet because Tom wasn’t there, but at least there is still a part of Tom that will live on through her.”

“What did they name her?” Mike asked wondering how they were going to incorporate Eric Axelrode into a female name.

“April Rose,” Axe said proudly.

Axelrode; April Rose. Very clever. “That’s a beautiful name. You should be proud.”

“I am. I just wish I got to spend more time with them.”

They sat in the dim light of the kitchen smoking their cigars and sipping on Bourbon, sharing a moment of silent admiration.

“Why did you leave the SEALs?” Axe asked breaking the silence.

“I got tired of the politics of war,” Mike said unconvincingly.

Axe gazed at him skeptically. “Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like you’re holding something back from me.”

Mike was holding back. To this day he had a hard time telling anyone about his problems except his doctor and the only reason he told his doctor
was to get drugs for his tremors and anxiety. Mike stood up from his stool with a stagger and held both of his hands out. His left hand shook like a Parkinson’s patient and his right hand wasn’t much better.

“Jesus Christ,” Axe said under his breath.

“Posttraumatic stress disorder,” Mike mumbled as he climbed back onto his stool.

“Yeah, I know,” Axe said stunned. “I just didn’t expect it from you.”

That hurt Mike’s pride. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him. “Neither did I.”

“How did it start?”

“At first I started having nightmares and flashbacks, but I didn’t tell anyone. I was hoping no one would notice and they would go away, but when my hands started shaking I knew I was a detriment to my team and I had to leave before someone got injured or killed.”

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