BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 211 „cause the barkeep was intently watching the scene unfold at our table. So, with nothing else to do, I watched George. Goddamned good thing he showed up, I concluded. That mess was already way above my pay grade by the time he got into the deal. “You say one more word about my mother, you cocksucker, I‟ll kill your sleazy ass right where you sit!” I guess George couldn‟t pass that one up, either. I know I sure as hell would have liked it if they‟d replaced the beer nuts. This was getting a bit entertaining. “Huh? „Cocksucker‟? Now you‟re accusing me of getting‟ it on with your father, too? Ya know, soldier, you‟ve got one very slutty fuckin‟ family, if you ask me.” their comrade. <strong>My</strong> guys roared. For a moment, anyway. That was funnier‟n hell. His guys, four more green berets, stepped to our table and formed a ring around <strong>My</strong> guys shut up. That part wasn‟t a damned bit funny. The green beret‟s voice was honed steel by now. “I‟m gonna pull your ass out of that chair and fuck you up right here, you prick!” George was already coming to his feet, his hand closed on the top of the same longneck I planned to use to save my ass. Good move, George. That bastard‟ll tear our asses off if you don‟t do something clever as hell and pretty damned quick. Before anyone could do anything, the bartender stepped in. Shit, I never saw him move. I‟d‟ve asked for some nuts if I‟d known he wasn‟t still in the audience. He moved close to the soldier. “Take this shit outside, and I mean right fuckin‟ now, fella.” He had Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 212 a Louisville slugger in his right hand and tapped it in his other palm a few times to be sure the guy saw it. “You got the balls, Cady?” the green beret inquired. “I may be the only one who does,” George chuckled. He finished standing and started toward the back door. “C‟mon, guys. I want you to watch me wipe out this sissy in the green suit.” I got in step right behind our guys, wondering what the hell George had up our sleeve. A few other people were heading that way to see the no-ticket fistfight, but the barkeep turned „em around. I couldn‟t blame him. Why lose a paying customer to a fight where you‟re not even running an ad? „Sides, once some guy got outside, he might not come back in. Bad for business. When everyone was outside, I looked at our guys, George‟s and mine. I saw their expressions and realized it was only our code of honor that kept all five of „em from running to the car. We had six guys with varying abilities to street fight, all the way from super asskicker to barely more than a mama‟s boy. These other guys, unfortunately, were people our government spent a huge fortune on so they‟d know how to kill with their bare hands. I tallied up the list of numbers in my head and running for the hills came out way ahead of standing up for a friend. I guess that‟s why we have codes of honor. They explain why a guy will do the really stupid thing instead of covering his own ass as fast as possible. Everyone gathered in a semicircle about twenty feet from the back door. I knew, without even looking, the barkeep had called the cops. That meant we had at least five, probably not more than ten, minutes before the “crew in blue”, Lansing‟s finest, would Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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