Authors: L.D. Beyer
In Sheep's Clothing: An Action-Packed Political Thriller (Matthew Richter Thriller Series Book 1) (33 page)
For a preview of
An Eye For An Eye
, the sequel to
In Sheep’s Clothing
, continue reading…
As he made his way through the cantina, Pablo Guerrero could hear the cries of the crowd, calling for blood. He tugged at the cap, pulling it low over his face. Dressed as he was in a laborer’s clothes, and not the designer fashions he’d grown accustomed to, he wasn’t recognized.
Stepping out the back door, he threaded his way through the crowd to the side of the ring. He caught the eye of the boy standing in the middle. The boy, no more than thirteen, nodded briefly then held the black rooster up for the judge to inspect. After checking for injuries, the judge held out his hand and the boy handed him the one-inch curved blade. The judge inspected this, first looking then sniffing for the tell-tale signs of poison. Although he didn’t detect any, he wiped the blade with a lemon—a long-standing practice to guard against cheating. Satisfied, the judge tied the blade onto the rooster’s leg then stepped back.
The boy moved to the center of the ring, thrusting the bird in front of him, letting him see his opponent. Across from him, an old man holding a white rooster did the same. Guerrero watched as his rooster twisted and writhed in the boy’s hands, clucking and hissing, anxious to fight. A slight grin crossed his face then disappeared. The judge signaled; the boy and the old man retreated to opposite sides of the pit.
The judge eyed the crowd and called out once more. “Apuestas!”
Bets.
Guerrero signaled and handed the judge one hundred pesos, nodding in the boy’s direction.
“El negro.”
The black one.
The judge nodded, held the hundred pesos in the air and called out to the crowd again. When all bets were placed, he signaled to the boy and the old man. They stepped forward again, thrusting their roosters at each other several times as the noise grew. The spectators, those wagering and those just watching, began to shout and chant, excited at the imminent battle. The judge called out again and the roosters were placed on the ground. Like prize fighters, they danced around each other for a second or two before the black rooster charged. Wings flapping, the birds pecked at each other, clawing and fighting as they’d been trained.
The black rooster jumped, fluttered a foot above the ground for a moment, and then dove at his opponent. The white rooster turned, swung his right claw out. As the chants and calls rose to a din, the black rooster crumpled to the ground.
For a second, Guerrero didn’t move. Then he glanced at the old man holding the white rooster aloft, smiling, triumphant. He looked at his own bird lying in the dirt, the dark stains of blood appearing almost as black as the feathers. Guerrero stared at the old man again; his eyes dark. As he turned to leave, he caught the boy’s eyes once more and nodded.
The old man would be found three days later, the dismembered white rooster sitting on top of the man’s brutally beaten body.
Copyright © 2015 by L.D. Beyer
I began this journey in the early 1990’s, but it wasn’t until 2010 when the many twists and turns in my life left me with an opportunity to complete this book—a book that had been patiently waiting for such a time when I might be able to finally grant it my full attention. Along the way there have been so many people who have offered their time, their expertise, their encouragement and their support that I can’t possibly mention them all here. You know who you are and you have my eternal thanks.
For Jeff Lewis and Peter Cake, for telling me to follow my dreams. For Jennifer Stolarz, who offered not only her editing skills but her on-going encouragement as well. For Kevin, Lori, Allison and Jeff—Beyers all—for support and encouragement above and beyond the call of duty and for enthusiastically reading my early drafts. For Amani Jensen, who helped me see the trees in the forest. For Pat Galizio and Andy Yin, who willingly jumped on board in the beginning and whose advice, edits, suggestions have been too many to count. For Kevin Hoffman, who, with tape measure and shotgun, proved that, yes, it could happen that way.
For Lt. Raymond “Blaster Tad” Godsil USN (Ret.) for educating me on military flight. For Captain David Leahy, 767 pilot extraordinaire, and for Chuck Mullins, pilot, retired FAA Inspector and former hockey buddy, both of whom helped me get the lingo and technicalities right. For Pat Heder, a Beyer in all but name, for answering various technical questions about one random thing or another.
For Suzanne Berube Rorhus and Carlos Fontana, fellow authors, and for Steve Hyde for advice on the business side of writing.
For understanding how an Air Force Combat Search and Rescue operation functions, I relied on such well written accounts as
Heart of the Storm
by Col. Edward Flemming.
For an understanding of the elaborate process and the many challenges in protecting a president, I relied on
Confessions of an Ex-Secret Service Agent; The Outrageous True Story of a Renegade Agent
by George Rush,
The Secret Service Story
by Michael Dorman, as well as numerous documentaries on the Discovery Channel and the History Channel.
For an inside look at the Presidency and the White House, I turned to
Inside the White House
by Ronald Kessler,
My Life
by Bill Clinton,
The Reagan Diaries
by Ronald Reagan,
Decision Points
by George Bush,
An American Life
by Ronald Reagan, and
Unlimited Access – An FBI Agent inside the Clinton White House
by Gary Aldrich.
The technical guidance I have received has been top notch. But it was up to me to translate what I learned into the story that unfolds. Any errors are mine and mine alone.
For Faith Black Ross, my editor and for Lindsey Andrews, who designed the cover, my thanks for your invaluable help in taking my ramblings and ideas and helping to turn them into a real book.
Finally, for Kaitlyn, Kyle and Matthew, great children all, who each contributed immeasurably with their edits, thoughts and suggestions, and for my wife, Mona, who personally read and edited more drafts than I can count—none of this would have been possible without your belief in me.
L.D. Beyer worked for over twenty-five years in the corporate world, most recently as a senior executive for a Fortune 500 company. His career involved extensive travel, several relocations, and the opportunity to live and work in Mexico for a few years. An avid reader, he fed his appetite for fiction by reading for years before finally deciding to pursue a writing career in 2010. L.D. Beyer lives in Michigan with his wife and three children.
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