Chapter 7 - THE MAN WITHOUT THE VESTThe clip went viral before the ceremony ended.
Not the salute.
Not the confrontation.
Not even the recovered recording.
One sentence.
What Mr. Dalton becomes after yesterday is.
Millions heard it.
Rex Dalton heard it too.
And he hated Nathan Hale for saying it.
Anger would have been easier.
A threat would have been easier.
If Hale had called him garbage, a criminal, a coward, Rex could have rejected every word.
Instead, the old man had handed him responsibility.
Rex sat in his apartment above a shuttered auto-parts store that evening with the television off and six unopened beers beside him.
His leather vest lay across a chair.
The Iron Jackals patch had been removed.
He kept looking at the empty outline where it had been.
At 8:14 p.m., someone knocked.
Rex ignored it.
Another knock.
“Go away.”
A woman answered.
“Open the door.”
He froze.
His younger sister, Amber.
Rex hadn’t seen her in almost a year.
He opened the door.
She walked inside carrying a grocery bag.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mom called.”
“Of course she did.”
“She saw you on TV.”
“Everybody saw me on TV.”
Amber placed the groceries down.
Then she looked at him.
“You stole an old man’s cane?”
Rex laughed without humor.
“That’s what you came to say?”
“I came because Mom is seventy-two and cried for three hours.”
“That old man’s fine.”
“This isn’t about him.”
“Everything is about him now.”
Amber stared.
“No. This is about you.”
Rex turned away.
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“You haven’t needed anything from anybody since Dad died. That’s your favorite story.”
Rex spun.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I lived in the same house.”
Rex’s father had been difficult.
Proud.
Cruel when drinking.
After a workplace accident damaged his spine, he grew worse.
He took frustration out on everyone.
Especially Rex.
Rex had been nineteen when his father died.
At the funeral, he hadn’t cried.
Three weeks later, he joined the Iron Jackals.
Amber looked toward the cane-shaped shadow on a photograph showing the diner incident.
“You know what I think?”
“No.”
“I think when you saw that old man with his cane, you saw Dad.”
Rex’s face changed.
“Get out.”
“And I think you hated that he looked weak but wasn’t ashamed of it.”
“Get out.”
“Dad spent his last years making everybody miserable because he couldn’t stand needing help.”
Rex kicked the chair.
The vest fell.
“GET OUT!”
Amber didn’t move.
“You’re becoming him.”
That stopped Rex.
Not because it was loud.
Because it wasn’t.
Amber picked up her bag.
“When you decide whether that scares you, call me.”
She left.
Rex stood alone for a long time.
Then he picked up one of the beers.
Opened it.
Stared at it.
And poured it down the sink.
Across town, Miller’s Highway Grill was overflowing.
Customers had driven from three counties after seeing the news.
Walter complained about the attention while secretly enjoying every second.
Sophie carried pancakes to Booth Seven.
Nathan was back.
No escort.
No uniform.
Just coffee.
“You know,” Sophie said, “normal celebrities hide after going viral.”
“I’m not a celebrity.”
“You have twelve million views.”
“That sounds unpleasant.”
She laughed.
Nathan looked toward the door each time it opened.
Sophie noticed.
“You expecting someone?”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I spent forty years in government. I’m an excellent liar.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Nathan surrendered.
“Fine. I wondered if Mr. Dalton might come.”
“Why?”
“People eventually return to places where they embarrassed themselves.”
“That sounds made up.”
“Most wisdom does.”
Walter approached carrying a package.
“This came for you.”
Nathan opened it.
Inside was a replacement brass fitting for the cane.
No note.
He examined it.
Brand new.
Wrong shape.
Sophie frowned.
“Who sent it?”
Nathan turned the box over.
Return address: Dalton Custom Cycles.
Rex’s shop.
Walter scoffed.
“He thinks buying a piece of brass fixes things?”
Nathan said nothing.
At the bottom of the box was a second object.
The original broken decorative cap from Andrew’s cane.
Rex must have found it beneath the diner table after the confrontation.
Wrapped around it was a scrap of paper.
I DIDN’T KNOW.
Nathan read it twice.
Sophie watched him.
“What are you going to do?”
He folded the note.
“Drink my coffee.”
“That’s it?”
“For tonight.”
The next morning, Nathan drove to Dalton Custom Cycles.
The shop appeared closed.
He knocked anyway.
Rex opened a side door.
His eyes widened.
“What are you doing here?”
Nathan held up the package.
“You sent this.”
Rex looked embarrassed.
“The cap fell off when I grabbed it.”
“I noticed.”
“I found it afterward.”
Nathan handed back the new brass fitting.
“This doesn’t belong on the cane.”
Rex’s mouth tightened.
“I figured.”
“But thank you.”
Rex stared.
Nathan turned to leave.
“That’s it?”
Hale stopped.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.”
“A speech?”
Rex shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Maybe.”
Nathan looked around the motorcycle shop.
Photographs covered one wall.
Rex younger.
Rex with his father.
Rex standing beside a wheelchair.
Nathan understood.
“I don’t think you need a speech.”
“You don’t know what I need.”
“No.”
Nathan looked directly at him.
“But I know something about angry young men.”
Rex gave a bitter laugh.
“I’m thirty-eight.”
“That qualifies from where I stand.”
Despite himself, Rex almost smiled.
Nathan continued.
“You can spend your life explaining why you became something.”
“Or?”
“Or become something else.”
Rex looked away.
“You make it sound simple.”
“No.”
Nathan tapped the cane against the floor.
“Simple and easy are different words.”
Silence.
Then Rex asked the question he had been carrying since the ceremony.
“Why didn’t you tell the reporter you wanted me locked up?”
“Because punishment and change are different things.”
“You think I changed?”
“I have no idea.”
Nathan started toward the door.
Rex called after him.
“The government guy. Vane.”
Nathan stopped.
“What about him?”
Rex hesitated.
“He gave me more than photos.”
Nathan turned around.
Rex walked toward a locked cabinet.
From inside, he removed a flash drive.
“He told me if anything went wrong, I should release this.”
Nathan took it carefully.
“What is it?”
“I never looked.”
“Why not?”
Rex’s expression was grim.
“Because last night I finally understood something.”
“What?”
“If Malcolm Vane wanted the world to see it…”
Rex met Nathan’s eyes.
“…then it probably isn’t the truth.”
May you like
The flash drive contained 217 files.
And one of them would reveal that Andrew Bell was not the only soldier whose death Malcolm Vane had hidden.
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