Smithy's Cupboard (8 page)

He saw the doctor that night and was subjected to some tests. The flashing sparks had caused a minor stroke. Tablets were to be taken night and morning and further tests would be conducted. His career prospects had taken a dive.

14

Smithy

Smithy was meditating in his cupboard, which he still scrubbed with Jasol, his favourite disinfectant. His phone rang. He was expecting the call and let it ring four times before he picked it up.

A man with a Southern US drawl spoke. ‘Smithy, two tickets coming soon. Can you do a job for us in Boston?'

‘What's the weather like in Boston at the moment, general? My bones are getting old.'

‘Good. Good, mate. Jack Sanderson will meet you at the airport.'

‘Good old Jack. Haven't heard from him for a long time. Be good to catch up.'

‘He was in Iraq for a long time.'

‘Jack will fill me in on the job, I should imagine.'

‘Yes, a terrorist is committing suicide off a high-rise.'

‘9/11 stuff?'

‘Yep. We're picking you up at your home then taking you to a military plane. Bring that great rifle of yours. Let's do some target stuff later. Stay with us at our beach house for a while. Sorry about Joan, mate. She was a great lady. They're hard to find.'

‘Thanks, general.'

Smithy rang Adam and asked how Ted was.

‘Great dog, Dave. When do you go?'

‘In a few days.'

‘Take care. Oh, Loan has accepted my proposal. Are you still with me for best man…in Vietnam?'

‘Yes, sure am.'

Author's Note

This story is fiction, although minute portions of it are taken from my life as a South Australian Police Officer for many years and my acquaintance with Army Intelligence and other service personnel.