Getting off the plane in Charlotte, North Carolina, a 6'1" man dressed in a military uniform was walking into the airport. Looking at him, you could tell that he was physically fit and extremely dangerous but had an air of peace around him that everyone around him just gave him a cursory look before going on with their lives. The women especially were bad at eyeing him as they saw him. Giving him the once over, before spotting the new forming grey hair that was beginning to show.
The men just gave him the stink eye since either the girls they were with gave him that once over, or their wives did. Either way, the men became a little hostile due to jealousy.
Shaking his head at the way people were behaving, he decided that it would be best to head for the luggage area to pick up his belongings which were only a single large suitcase and a green army duffel bag. That way, nothing stupid would happen. But he was thankful that, even in his now graying age, he was still getting looks.
Heading to the main lobby in order to get a rental car after claiming his stuff, he called up the private detective that he was paying to get the down low on how his soon to be ex-wife who had turned his house into a drug den for her boyfriends. One of them being a kingpin cooker that was apparently wanted by the authorities, as well as his 3 lackey sellers that supposedly had taken their time to 'punish' those who cross them. Depending on the gender.
Talking while in line, he found out that his house was almost shot up when the police finally got all the evidence they needed for their whereabouts and made their move against them. Since the dirtbags decided to make a grandstand with nothing more than .22 six shooters.
His ex was shot and sent to the hospital when she tried to make her escape holding something close to her as if her life depended upon it. As it turns out, she had given birth to a girl, who was now in her grandparent's custody while being treated with very delicate care since her system had a good amount of meth in her system. The PI then went on to tell how the investigation was done of the house.
Turns out, that they had found 300 lbs. of meth and a very elaborate chem station with all the bells and whistles. Luckily for him, his lawyer who was helping him file for divorce and giving her next to nothing. So, he was able to get the police to give him back his house since he was away on tour in Germany. Which also got turned into two tours instead of just one like it was supposed to happen: one to Iraq, and one to Afghanistan. Much to the chagrin of the courts. All thanks to the President.
After talking for a few hours with the PI, and then with his lawyer who guaranteed him that he is going to win hands down since his ex was found to have lots of meth and cocaine in her system, he smiled a defeated smile as he paid for the rental and left to go get the car.
Along the way, he called ahead to the VA hospital that was near where he lived to set up the appointments needed to become their lab-rat for whatever medical stuff they required him to do causing him to stop and laugh as he pictured himself strapped onto a table as they tried to probe him. Not many people liked his sense of humor since it was a lot darker and quirkier than most who loved to joke with dark and dry humor.
He was now on his way back to that damnable place his marriage started and will soon end in just shy of 6 years which is a 4-hour trip which was just 5 miles inside the Hoke County border from the Cumberland County border. Thankfully, the only thing that put a smile on his face was that he could sell the house and go live in Arizona someplace as a present to himself for surviving 30 years of military service with 19 deployments that left him mentally scarred about the human race as a whole at the age of 48.
As much as he tried to run from it, or just forget about everything, those memories about what he walked into when entering both the male and female soldier rooms, as part of his inspections that he had to perform whether he wanted to or not, while they watched videos that could not be faked. Not even Hollywood would dare do some of the things he saw on some of the videos he caught them watching.
The female soldiers were even worse about it. As they also tried to claim that it belonged to someone else. Even though the external hard drive had their name either sketched into the item or had their name stenciled on.
When the investigations were done, including the videos, the soldiers were, and the people shown on the recordings that were guilty, were all sent off to prison. Even the memories and actions that he saw and/or taken himself while deployed from those times kept returning to his mind. Including the photos of his ex-wife getting gang banged by the 4 men that the PI emailed him just before a mission.
Then there were the firefights he got into because of some stupid reason or another that cost both military personnel and civilians on both sides their lives. How can he in good conscience look at another human being without questioning if they, themselves, do the same thing that he saw behind closed doors, or just in general?
Shaking his head to clear it as much as he could, he noticed that he was about 10 minutes away from his destination. Entering the driveway, he looked at the house and saw so much shit all over the ground that seemed to be about 6-8 months old garbage just littering about.
Shaking his head in disgust, he entered the building and saw that almost everything of his was gone. The couches, tables, dishes, beds, kitchen appliances, and everything else that was worth a damn, including the antique plates that were in his family's legacy.
Luckily, there was a message saying that those items of family sentiment were placed in a box that was currently located at his lawyer's office stuck to the wall in the kitchen. He silently thanked the only thing he knew would listen: Darkness herself since it was everywhere.
Sighing in relief about his family heirlooms, he looked around the house to see what all the damage was before sitting on the lawn chair that was placed in the middle of a spare room. As he looked around, he saw burn marks, footprints and holes in or on the walls, broken windows, and yellowish-brown stained walls in the master bedroom.
'You have to be an idiot not to know what the hell that is. Fucking piece of shits.'
Going back to the chair, he plopped himself into it with a beaten and defeated sigh before grabbing his laptop and researching people to get this house back into shape to sell.
'I can wallow in self-pity and defeat when I am dead. No rest for the wary or wicked I guess.'
2 hours and 6 phone calls later, he looked at the time and saw that it was 20:30 (8:30pm). Getting up to go use the toilet, he that about the amount of money he would need and about how much he could get from the house when it was all fixed up. From what he was told, the bare minimum was 8K to 12K in expenses. And since he had the house fully paid off, which was 64,000 dollars, he could see about selling the place for 90k-95k, and that was if the drug business did not scare people away.
He would also have to see about any other crap that was done here that might lower the amount he could sell the house for. Hopefully, it will be a minor list of things. He, however, doubted that he would be lucky enough not to have any bad hits against the house. There was, after all, a shoot out that happened here on national TV almost a year ago.
Going back to his laptop, still thankful that the internet was still on after all this time, he began to research places in Arizona so he could retire and possibly live peacefully for a good while. He looked at places like Pheonix, Reno, and Palm Desert so he could be at most 7 hours away from Vegas just in case he had a bitch fit about wanting to gamble some. Seeing as the prices were well within his budget, he tried to call a few to see if he could get ahold of someone concerning some of the properties.
A few picked up sounding a bit miffed about being called so late since they were most likely about to close down for the day. Once the housing agency felt they he was indeed interested in buying one of the houses they were selling, they began to hash out the details concerning the properties that he wanted to know about after changing their attitudes in an attempt to be the best mortgage agent in the state. It was about 23.00 when he finally got done with the last housing property, spending a little over 2 hours talking to the 3 agencies about a dozen or so houses that were in the middle of nowhere with the nearest being 15 minutes away by vehicle.
Getting up, he headed back to the bathroom to shower. 25 minutes later and feeling slightly refreshed, he was standing in front of the mirror that was hanging on the door to the closet in the master bedroom. Looking at himself, he could see the scars that were littering his athletically built torso that would be generally seen on any martial arts person after a lifetime of practicing. He could even see the scarring that almost claimed his left hazel eye.
About 3 inches in length going down the middle of the socket with an outwards tilt on the bottom portion, where a frag grenade exploded while he and his team were clearing a house that was suspected of terrorist activities in Babel, Iraq. Even his arms and legs were slightly covered in scars from being shot, stabbed, blown up from IEDs of varies types, and mortars.
Shaking his buzz cut platinum blonde head, he went to get dressed again with the few civie clothes he had left. He was immensely glad he went out and bought a few clothes while still in Germany. He began to get dressed in loose-fitting polyester cargo pants and one of his brown t-shirts from the old BDU uniforms he still had from back in the day before the new uniforms came out.
Done dressing and feeling sorry for himself, he went out to the two-car side by side garage that was cleared out of everything and lifted a metal plate that is for doing maintenance work on vehicles. The best part is that it looked and felt bolted down. In reality, there was a hidden button on one of the metal tracks that the garage door nearest the house uses. Once it was lifted all the way open, you could see a set of stairs leading to a room below.
Taking the time to turn on the lights with the switch that was placed into the wall to the side of the first step, he walked into his armory that held all his weapons. Ranging from a .22 pistol to a 30mm rifle. 29 weapons in total. Including a kinetic rifle and pistol. Smiling happily, he took the next 2 hours to look them over trying to decide if he wanted to clean them or not, before leaving and closing the entrance as his yawn the threaten to split his face in two reminded him of how tired he was.
Once the pit was closed, he went back to the room that held his stuff and began to maneuver them in a way so he could use them as a makeshift bed. He started to make all the phone calls and trips that he needed to do when he woke up the next day. Mainly the companies that could help him spruce up the house in order for him to sell it. Not to mention any and all supplies he will need until he was able to get everything done.
Closing his eyes, he started to pray. A prayer he began not long after his last tour in Afghanistan. It was not long into his prayer before he was asleep.