Canyons of Steel - A modern day western

Chapter One - Part One

Columbus, Ohio - 7:54 am. -August 20, 2002

The office was small, and dark. Only one light hung from the ceiling in an attempt to fill the room with anything at all. But it only succeeded in making the long shadows look more and more menacing. For Johnathon Tiberius Walker, this only made his dark thoughts seem that much more so. But he sat, hunched over in his chair, tired arms propping himself up on the old, metal desk. His hands gingerly holding a picture that he would turn over in his fingers every so often. A gift from an old lover. The reason his thoughts became so heavy as of late.

His daughter, Danielle Walker. She was twelve years old now, but he'd only seen her twice. When she was first born, and again when she had turned five. And both times were fleeting and short, not enough for father and daughter to really connect. Perhaps the passing of years was what drove his thoughts. But he knew that he wanted this life as a mercenary to end. He wanted to live the rest of his years in a normal life. Just one last job. But he had to send a message to those he answered to. He had to let them know there would be those that would defy them.

As the metal door creaked open, he continued to stare at the photograph. He knew who it was, he needn't hide this worn old photo from him. Malcolm Montgomery Watt merely stood across from the old gunslinger and waited. The news he had could take it's time in the telling. If there was one thing the Aussie learned from this old Texan, it was patience. No need to hurry something if you didn't need to.

Walker let out a deep breath and sat back in the old wooden chair. His eyes drifted up to meet Monty's as he pocketed the photo. A wordless acknowledgment of what was coming. Walker took out a metal tin and flipped it open, taking out a cigarette and carefully lighting it. As he inhaled, he waited for Monty to speak. The Aussie knew when the time to pass information was, and the ritual of the cigarette was almost like a signal.

The younger of the two men sat heavily in a chair across from the old gun hand. He leaned back, kicking his feet up onto the desk. Had this been anything else, it would have appeared as a very relaxing conversation. But it was anything but that. “Orders 'ave come in, mate,” Monty informed Walker. “The target is attendin' Ohio State University. Second year student.”

“Makes him 'bout eighteen. Maybe twenty at the oldest,” Walker added. Monty noted the emphasis on the age. “So we're sinkin' so low as ta kidnap children, I take it.”

“Accordin' ta the paperwork, the kid's the son of a Senator with a lotta clout in Congress.” Monty let the information sink in as he took his feet off the desk and leaned forward, resting his frame on his elbows as he leaned on the desk. “They'd like this done quickly as possibly. An', o' course, as quietly as possible.”

“In a university,” Walker replied with a slight scoff. “Yeah, they'll 'ppreciate that.” The echoes of some of the worst school shootings in history in the United States still rung in the minds of the people. And it was even worse in this post-9-11 era. “Who's on the crew?” Walker asked as he kept the memories of the news reels close in his mind. He had to remain focused, and these thoughts would help him keep that.

“Your hand picked,” Monty said with a smile. Hand picked meant Walker's faithful. The soldiers that would stick by whatever play he needed to make. And the Red Hand couldn't demand any changes, not with Walker's record. “Crimson, Indigo, Grey. An' me. All loyal, an' all 'ave been told what ta expect.”

Walker sighed as he took another drag of his cigarette. Slowly he rose to his feet, stretching to get the kinks out of his frame. He looked around the room for a long moment, then turned to his second in command. “The Masters o' deception,” Walker slowly mused with a smirk. “Well t'day, we try an' deceive the deceivers.” He watched as Monty rose to his feet, an encouraging smile forming on the Aussie's lips. “Well boy, t'day has just b'come our first judgment day. Let's hope that maybe the good Lord's watchin' down on us.”