5Word Challenge - The Yard Man

At four A.M. Vic Halyard gave up on trying to sleep and went to the kitchen to make himself a pot of coffee. Being wide awake at odd hours of the night didn’t bother him but lately the random surges of adrenalin that came upon him unbidden in the night were beginning to gnaw at him.  It wasn’t that Halyard liked or disliked the chemical push that would arrive and scuttle any chance of sleeping; he was not used to rating his physical and emotional states in terms of good or bad. But having a sudden call to action surge through his veins with no avenue for release had lately become to feel like an unwelcome judgment, one that his mind held up to him like a mirror, reflecting back to him a personal vacancy and lack of mooring he found increasingly difficult to endure as time past.

Vic stared out of the window above the sink at a new moon poised above the outline of the desert mountains and shook his head in wry disgust. Was the upturned crescent on the rise or about to disappear with the dawn? Halyard’s jaw tightened and he wondered how long this day would be. In two days it would be eighteen months since he had been retired from active duty. Without his former comrades, a mission to plan, or a cause to channel his lifetime of training Halyard felt he was just collecting dust and leading a half life that was as purposeless as a scabbard without a sword.

As Vic poured his first cup of coffee the phone rang. He caught it in the middle of the second ring.

“Yep?”

“Hey Yard Man, done any walks on the wild side lately?”

The connection sounded distant and was breaking up slightly but Halyard would probably have recognized that voice even if it was whispering through a sponge.

“Sweet pogoing Jesus Miller! Long time.”, Halyard growled as he felt fresh surge of adrenaline. “Are you still cluster fucking your way through the tribal areas Colonel or are you back on a leash stateside like you aught to be?”

It had been at least three years since he had last spoken to Carson Miller, the man who had been his first field commander in Afghanistan when Vic was still a fledging in Special Forces. He remembered that Carson had arrived at their rendezvous point dressed like a Muhjadine and smelling of hashish, cardamon and goat.

“Well Victor, I know you’re off book, and probably happy as a clam playing shuffle board and drinking cocktails all day with some golf widow, but a situation has come up suddenly and my masters have me on the bubble to resolve it. Any chance I might be able to sway you into trading your life of leisure for a midnight recon with some very evil shit?”

Halyard took a slow deep breath and watched in silence as the last bit of the moon slipped below the horizon.

“Uh, which direction do I go from Taos, Carson?”

“Hell's bells Vic", Miller laughed, "I was just about to say you could think it over for a few minutes, but since you obviously can’t make up your fucking mind what to do, I’ll just swing by your trailer in, let's say, about five minutes if that’s okay?”