Sniper's Justice (Caje Cole Book 9) by David Healey (best classic books txt) 📗

the Normandy beachhead. There had been lots of training in England, of course, but nothing truly prepared anyone for the horrors they had experienced on that beach. On that beach, Cole had picked up an abandoned sniper rifle and his real career as a soldier had begun.

Consciously, he knew that he should be saddened and filled with regret at all the lives lost and the killing that he had done. But a deeper, raw part of Cole that he sometimes thought of as “the critter” hadn’t minded at all. In fact, that part of him missed it. He missed the excitement and even the camaraderie of fighting alongside good men.

Maybe these weren’t the best realizations to be having thirty thousand feet over the Atlantic. He let his mind wander to other things, and soon Cole managed to drift off.

He awoke to the gentle chiming of the seatbelt light and the pilot giving a weather report.

Next stop, Germany.

Cole felt butterflies in his stomach, but he told himself that it was just from the jet changing altitude.

Chapter Four

After they disembarked from the plane and went through customs, with a bored official waving them through without even looking at their passports, they emerged into the busy international arrivals terminal to see a uniformed driver holding a sign that read, “Herr Cole.”

“I reckon that’s us,” Cole said.

Much to Cole’s embarrassment, the driver insisted on carrying their bags to a shiny black Mercedes. The uniform was simply that of a chauffeur, but deep down, it made Cole uneasy. He had some experience with uniformed Germans, and it hadn’t been good.

However, this German was friendly and pleasant. He spoke perfect English, and explained that he had been a school teacher before retiring and deciding to keep busy by ferrying important passengers around Munich.

“Last week, you would not believe that I met Jim Palmer. A famous American baseball player! I even got his autograph. Are you famous?”

“Not for anything that you’d want to know about.”

The driver laughed good-naturedly, then whisked them from the airport to the hotel. On the way, he explained that the hotel near the airport was popular with travelers from all over the world and was much larger and modern compared to the traditional hotels within the city itself, which were more like Gasthäuser—guesthouses. “I know you Americans like everything the bigger, the better,” he said.

In the lobby of the massive Hilton hotel, Cole was taken aback by the shiny glass doors, the gleaming trim, the expansive veined marble. He gave a low whistle.

“This sure ain’t the Apple Blossom Motel,” he said. “It’s kind of fancy.”

“We’re just like rock stars,” Danny said happily. “Or country music stars, at least.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

But things kept getting better. Cole was half-convinced that they must have been dropped at the wrong hotel, but sure enough, the clerk had a reservation for them, along with a voucher for meals.

“We even get our own rooms,” Danny said. “We don’t have to share.”

“It's something, all right,” Cole agreed, still amazed by the lavish surroundings. Not for the first time this day, he realized that he was a long way from the ramshackle cabin where he had grown up in Gashey’s Creek. Back then, he’d been lucky if he got some biscuits to go with his squirrel stew. He had slept on the bare wooden floor of the loft with his brothers and sisters, body heat alone keeping them warm on winter nights. When he had gotten older, there had been a mattress stuffed with corn husks. During the war, he mostly slept on the cold, hard ground and hadn’t minded.

After washing up, they’d come back down and had a massive breakfast in the hotel restaurant, with the waiter squeezing fresh oranges table-side for their juice.

Sated, they made their way back up to their separate rooms. Danny was excited to give the cable television a whirl to watch the German version of MTV. Cole was more interested in a nap before they had to meet Colonel Mulholland that afternoon.

He closed the door, took off his shoes, and tried to get settled on the enormous bed. However, he just couldn’t seem to relax. The soft mattress kept threatening to swallow him whole. So much luxury felt overwhelming. After a while, he gave up and pulled some of the blankets onto the floor. Just like old times. With the reassuring feel of the hard floor beneath him, Cole finally slept.

Cole awoke to the sound of somebody pounding on the door. Annoyed with himself, he realized that he had overslept. Traveling had taken a bigger toll than he had expected. Not as young as I used to be. He glanced at the Timex on his wrist. He was supposed to go down and meet Colonel Mulholland in just half an hour.

Through the peephole, he saw that it was Danny knocking. Cole unlocked the door.

“I can’t believe I had to wake you up,” his grandson said. The boy noticed the blankets and pillow on the floor. ”Pa Cole, did you fall out of bed?”

“Something like that,” Cole replied. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be ready. Don’t you worry about me.”

He slipped into the bathroom. A shower would have been nice to help him wake up, but he settled for putting on a fresh shirt and splashing some water on his face, trying to get rid of the groggy feeling. It felt like his head was packed full of wool. Well, that was jet lag for you. Back home, it was close to his bedtime. At the moment, his bones felt every one of his years.

He emerged from the spacious bathroom feeling only marginally refreshed. However, seeing Danny bubble over with enthusiasm was better than a cup of coffee.

“Here, you better take my extra key,” Cole said. “Just in case I don’t wake up next time.”

“Why wouldn’t you wake up?”

“Because I’m dead, that’s why.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say!” Danny replied, but he was grinning. He had gotten used to Pa