Shattered Bone Read Online Free
Author: Chris Stewart
climbing from the aircraft, she gathered up her tools and headed back to Maintenance Control. As she walked across the flight line, she found herself deep in thought once again. Knowing she would soon be very rich she found herself wondering. What was it going to be like to have so much cash? How could she possibly spend so much money?
TWO
___________________________Â
__________________________Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
OSAN AIR FORCE BASE, SOUTH KOREA
C APT R ICHARD A MMON DIDNâT REPORT TO WORK UNTIL LATE AFTER noon. He slept in until nearly ten, then spent the morning browsing through the tiny shops that lined the narrow streets of Song Tan City. For lunch he ate at the closest McDonaldâs, where he paid the equivalent of eight dollars for a Big Mac and chocolate shake. Silently he nibbled on the burger and sipped at the frozen chocolate, forcing himself to eat, knowing that if he didnât, by tonight he would be very hungry. But still, the burger made his stomach roll and turn. Lifting the bun, he stared at the soggy meat and marveled once again at the Koreansâ ability to make even one hundred percent beef taste like fish.
Before he left the restaurant, Ammon walked back to the counter and ordered another Big Mac and fries. Hc packed three tiny bags of ketchup and a couple napkins into the paper sack, then turned and walked out onto the busy street. The dank vapor of sewer and mildew filled his lungs. But he didnât notice. After sevcn months in Korea, he no longer noticed the smells.
Half a block down the street, he found Kim La Sung. The old man sat at his usual location, his back propped against a crumbling brick wall, his bare legs and dirty feet stretched out into the sidewalk. The man stared straight ahead, holding a small cardboard box filled with hand-carved wooden toys.
âHow ya doing olâ man?â Ammon asked as he approached the wretched street vendor. His Korean was barely understandable.
The manâs face brightened at the sound of Ammonâs voice, but he didnât turn his blind eyes away from the street.
âHey there, you ugly American,â he replied through tea-stained teeth. âBring me anything to read?â The old man chuckled. It was the standard greeting between them, a personal joke that stemmed from the first time they had met.
âNot today, Kim,â Ammon said. âIâm in a bit of a hurry. Iâm flying tonight, so 1 donât have much time.â
âOkay, Captain Richard. But next time come and stay awhile.â
âI will, old man,â Richard Ammon replied as he placed the bag of food next to his friend. The blind Korean immediately smelled the grease-soaked fries. He reached down and located the bag with his right hand and gently tore it open.
âI hope you didnât forget the ketchup,â the old man said.
âItâs in there,â Ammon reassured him.
Ammon turned to leave, then stopped and pulled out his wallet. Without even counting the money, he took all of the bills that were tucked inside and dropped them into Kimâs cardboard box. Kim immediately sensed the presence of the cash. Without so much as a nod, he reached out with unseeing hands, extracted the folded bills, and stuffed them into his shirt.
âNext time, bring me more ketchup,â he demanded as Ammon turned and began to make his way back down the street.
Ammon walked to the base, flashing his identification card to the guards that manned the sidewalk gate. Then he went back to his quarters to sleep. Normally when he flew at night, he didnât take an afternoon nap. But tonight he wasnât scheduled to take off until 11:38, which meant he wouldnât land until after 3:00 A.M . By the time he finished debriefing and had completed the required paperwork, he wouldnât be back to his room until nearly sunrise. He figured a little afternoon siesta would help him get through the long night.
It was
TWO
___________________________Â
__________________________Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
OSAN AIR FORCE BASE, SOUTH KOREA
C APT R ICHARD A MMON DIDNâT REPORT TO WORK UNTIL LATE AFTER noon. He slept in until nearly ten, then spent the morning browsing through the tiny shops that lined the narrow streets of Song Tan City. For lunch he ate at the closest McDonaldâs, where he paid the equivalent of eight dollars for a Big Mac and chocolate shake. Silently he nibbled on the burger and sipped at the frozen chocolate, forcing himself to eat, knowing that if he didnât, by tonight he would be very hungry. But still, the burger made his stomach roll and turn. Lifting the bun, he stared at the soggy meat and marveled once again at the Koreansâ ability to make even one hundred percent beef taste like fish.
Before he left the restaurant, Ammon walked back to the counter and ordered another Big Mac and fries. Hc packed three tiny bags of ketchup and a couple napkins into the paper sack, then turned and walked out onto the busy street. The dank vapor of sewer and mildew filled his lungs. But he didnât notice. After sevcn months in Korea, he no longer noticed the smells.
Half a block down the street, he found Kim La Sung. The old man sat at his usual location, his back propped against a crumbling brick wall, his bare legs and dirty feet stretched out into the sidewalk. The man stared straight ahead, holding a small cardboard box filled with hand-carved wooden toys.
âHow ya doing olâ man?â Ammon asked as he approached the wretched street vendor. His Korean was barely understandable.
The manâs face brightened at the sound of Ammonâs voice, but he didnât turn his blind eyes away from the street.
âHey there, you ugly American,â he replied through tea-stained teeth. âBring me anything to read?â The old man chuckled. It was the standard greeting between them, a personal joke that stemmed from the first time they had met.
âNot today, Kim,â Ammon said. âIâm in a bit of a hurry. Iâm flying tonight, so 1 donât have much time.â
âOkay, Captain Richard. But next time come and stay awhile.â
âI will, old man,â Richard Ammon replied as he placed the bag of food next to his friend. The blind Korean immediately smelled the grease-soaked fries. He reached down and located the bag with his right hand and gently tore it open.
âI hope you didnât forget the ketchup,â the old man said.
âItâs in there,â Ammon reassured him.
Ammon turned to leave, then stopped and pulled out his wallet. Without even counting the money, he took all of the bills that were tucked inside and dropped them into Kimâs cardboard box. Kim immediately sensed the presence of the cash. Without so much as a nod, he reached out with unseeing hands, extracted the folded bills, and stuffed them into his shirt.
âNext time, bring me more ketchup,â he demanded as Ammon turned and began to make his way back down the street.
Ammon walked to the base, flashing his identification card to the guards that manned the sidewalk gate. Then he went back to his quarters to sleep. Normally when he flew at night, he didnât take an afternoon nap. But tonight he wasnât scheduled to take off until 11:38, which meant he wouldnât land until after 3:00 A.M . By the time he finished debriefing and had completed the required paperwork, he wouldnât be back to his room until nearly sunrise. He figured a little afternoon siesta would help him get through the long night.
It was
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