The Red Wind

[Dust Devil]

Just keep cool. I'm on the job meeting a detective State side, show the cards, and that's that.

A silver '06 Ford Explorer idled in line at the Thousand Islands Bridge crossing. The driver, a man of native decent, dressed in plain clothes, leaned back in his seat and drummed on the steering wheel to The Edgar Winter Group's Frankenstein.

Oh thank God Davis is in the booth. No worries now. I love this drum solo.

The line moved forward and now the SUV sat just before the booth behind a burgundy '91 Plymouth Sundance. The custom's officer stepped out and went through the standard script. While the driver in the Sundance shared the details the song playing in the Ford changed to Got Me Wrong.

Alice in Chains. "As of now I bet you got me wrong. So unsure you run from something strong."

The car moved on and the stoplight bolted to the booth changed from red to green. Hey Davis. The Canadian man gave a wave to Davis as he again stepped out his booth, this time having to adjust his belt. The music's volume dropped to nothing.

"Identification please." Davis asked plainly as the driver's card fell into his hand. "Purpose of visit, and length of stay Constable Anders?"

"Consult on a case. The rest is classified. I'll be here in New York State for a few weeks."

"Anything to declare?"

"I've got a pack of Tim's donut holes and a large triple-triple in the back."

"I'm afraid I'll have to confiscate those," he said with a smile. "Thanks Nick."

"No problem John. Say hello to Shelly and the boys for me." Nick said out his window to John as he lifted the rear door up.

"When you're on your way back give a call and stop in for a visit. We'll have a barbecue." Davis said after closing the door and walking up to the driver's side.

"Will do. Have a good day John."

"Safe travels Nick."

Thanks John.

The customs officer went back into his booth and sipped his coffee while the SUV pulled away and continued down Interstate 81. Nick turned the volume back up. The words "Die Waffen - Legt an!" barked from the speakers in Frank Klepacki's most notorious work Hell March. In this case Hell March 2.

I wonder what that translates into?

[Dust Devil]

I need to eat.

Nick dropped his left hand off the steering wheel and rested it on his gut, he could feel and hear his stomach churning, running on empty. The GPS unit on his dash told him Watertown was still about a twenty-minute drive ahead. He'd have to hold out until he reached the city limits to find a diner.

After rolling down his window to let the air in Nick returned his left hand to the wheel and with his right reached across to the glove box. He popped it open and nabbed a pack of Mentos. The Freshmaker was always on hand if ever the hint of bad breath was evident. The law was easier to listen to if the air that carried it wasn't unbearable. For Nick the mint was just something to keep his mind off of his growing hunger. When he tossed the mint into his mouth the final song that had been playing from his CD ended.

Lets see what's on the FM dial.

"And listen to the radio. Listen to the radio. In the city late tonight, double feature, black and white, 'Bitter Tears' and 'Taxi to the Klo'."

"Find a bar, avoid a fight. Show your papers, be polite. Walking home with nowhere else to go." Nick joined in, singing the rest of the song and those that followed for the rest of the drive.