Evil in Hockley Read Online Free

the
shoulder then made an excuse to leave.
    Harry drove into the backyard of his
property parking near the back door. He went inside to his bedroom
and retrieved three objects wrapped in cloth. He sat near the
driver’s side of his car and unravelled his Beretta M9 service
revolver and a spare clip. He ejected the clip and checked the gun
then snapped the clip into place. He rewrapped the gun in cloth
then slid under his car and placed the weapon into one of the metal
containers. He unwrapped the second package containing two boxes:
plastic explosives and a detonator. He placed those in the other
container and slapped the lid shut. He unwrapped the third and
smallest rag containing two blades that he slid into a slender
sheath in his boots.
    Harry had come into the country on a
troop carrier aircraft landing near Sudbury. It was checked but in
the service no one ratted out a buddy. If someone saw what he
brought into the country then they said nothing. If he was caught
by an overzealous soldier he’d plead ignorance. It was his first
trip home.
    In was only two in the afternoon and he
didn’t plan on arriving at Joe Sharky’s place before six. He wanted
to recon the area in daylight but wouldn’t enter the bar until
after dark.
    He drove into Orangeville and bought a
late lunch at a burger joint. He only ate half and drank little
coffee. You wouldn’t find a toilette handy on a recon mission and
he was at his best on an empty stomach. He filled up his tank which
set him back one hundred and twenty dollars. The Barracuda had a
big tank and the price of gas wasn’t what it used to be. Back in
the seventies a guy could gas up with twenty bucks. Nowadays it
cost that to cut the grass.
    He drove home and walked around his
property which consisted of a house, garage, and shed set on an
acre of land. The backyard was overgrown and needed at least six
months work with a chain saw. His brother had kept the lawns cut
but they needed to be cut again. He had neither the time or
inclination to be a gardener so he’d hire someone. When he was a
kid he used to pump gas, cut lawns, and did odd jobs to make a few
bucks. Kids didn’t work anymore and why should they: they get money
free.

Chapter 6
     
    It was six o’clock in the evening when
Harry pulled out of his driveway and drove north on Airport Road.
It was a hilly drive but barely taxed the five hundred horses his
Hemi poured out to turn the rear wheels.
    It was a scenic half hour drive to Joe
Sharky’s Bar and Grill. The lands on either side of the road were
too hilly for farming so had not been completely cleared. Farm
animals grazed on lush grasses.
    Sharky’s place was huge surrounded by
large parking lots, trucker’s were welcome. Harry sat in a farm
laneway across the road from the bar, an open map in his hands
looking every bit like a lost tourist. Maples and other hardwood
trees grew behind the main buildings on an ever steeper hill. This
would be his back entrance or emergency exit if he could find and
disable the cameras he knew would be there.
    There was a house a hundred yards north
of the parking lot which he knew were the living quarters of Sharky
and a couple of his most trusted men. There were three expensive
cars parked near a fence surrounding the yard. He wondered
precisely what kind of activity went on in that house. Harry knew
Joe by sight but had never had the pleasure of meeting the
man.
    The parking lot was slowly starting to
fill as the sun sank low in the western sky. When he counted over a
dozen customers entering the front door he drove to the lot, parked
his car, and joined the festivities. People entering a bar were a
distraction as they found tables and ordered drinks. Two high
priced bouncers stood at either end of the main room, just as they
did when Harry was last here three years ago. He didn’t however
recognize either one. New talent was always moving
through.
    There were about twenty tables and some
cubby hole nooks along the walls.