The Double Cross, Part Six

Continued from Part Five

Jason Justice finished packing his vinyl thrift store suitcase. “Do I have everything?”

His wife said, “Everything except me. Why do you have to go to Florida alone?”

“Because my quarters there are in Captain Justice’s name and I couldn’t risk someone identifying you. And your four-legged patients would miss their doctor.”

“Not hardly. They hate me.”

“Their owners would.”

“Hate me?”

“No, miss you, Difficult.’

The doorbell rang.

“Must be the shuttle. They’re early.” Jason kissed Marlene. “I’ll see you in three weeks.”

He went the door. His grandson stood out on the step with a duffle bag.

“DJ? What are you doing here?”

DJ looked down at his shoes. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, sit down.”

Jason sat down on the sofa and DJ sat on futon across from him.

DJ said, “I’ve quit the band and am skipping Spring Semester.”


“I want to help fix things. It’s what Dad would want.”

“Why didn’t you say this back when you and your mom were here?”

“Two words. Uncle. Wally.”

Jason nodded. “I see.”

“I felt stupid after what he’d said. I decided at the moment it made more sense to try and become a rich rock star.”

“This job doesn’t make sense. Neither does serving in the military, but it’s still got to be done. There will be sacrifices.”

“I know.”

“For one, the nature of this business is a military appearance.”

DJ clutched his long blond locks. “You sure?”

“It’s part of the brand.”

DJ released his hair. “Okay. For Dad.”

“I’ll need to call the airline to see if I can get another ticket.” Jason grabbed the cell.

DJ turned on the TV.

While Jason finalized the expensive purchase of a last minute plane ticket, DJ said, “Hey, Grandpa, take a look.”

Jason turned towards the television.

A reporter stood two blocks from Times Square. “We have a late breaking development outside the Zephmac National Bank. The hostage situation is over. The bank robbers have been captured by a man who calls himself Janus. He is holding a press conference to discuss the capture mo-mentarily.”

DJ said, “Hey, looks like we might have some help.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, son.” Calling a press conference after a rescue? Not even the Sword was that publicity-hungry.

Continued next Monday

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