Gary Alan Henson: I love this bar... (apologises to Toby Keith)

Gary Alan Henson: I love this bar... (apologises to Toby Keith): " A quick scan of the room tells me this establishment is pretty much like all the other holes we’ve been in. At the back of the roo...

Reality

I'm in the surgical waiting room, waiting for my wife to return from a minor surgery.

Outside the corner windows three flags wave slowly in the Texas wind. The oaks and the willows in the courtyard below are just sprouting their first spring buds.

Bright sunlight reflects off the pale painted roof and bricks, filling the wide room with softness and quiet.

We're at 'that age', where these things start to happen more often. I had heart surgery last year. Debbie's gall bladder decided to kick out a few stones. We both need to exercise more and eat better. Our bodies no longer adapt to our bad habits.

But it's OK. We're together. We have wonderful children and grandchildren. We love each other and like each other. We have our lives away from each other and with each other.

We make plans to travel and enjoy our time together.

The reality is for all the bad stuff that has happened and that will happen, we have each other and we can help each other through those times.

There are far more good times to enjoy and we'll help each other enjoy those as well.

Stop for a moment and be still, my friends. Take a slow breath. Focus on nothing. Be a child again for just a few moments. Life.

A bartender with a patch over one eye. No way...

"

Arlo leans back a bit, caught off guard by the news. “If he had a good squad of fighters and was kicking FTG booty, why the sudden hatred for the two? Did he skim the profits or something?”

Cyclops looks inside the mug, sticks a thick, scummy finger down to the bottom and wiggles it around. When he draws it out there’s a squirming goobie fighting to get away. One Eye pops the hapless creature in his maw, back end first. The goobie’s eyes pop out even further as he disappears bit by bit into the drooling mouth. A final ‘scrunch’ and he’s gone. Cyclops sticks his thick black mucus covered tongue out, pieces of goobie parts still attached and then draws it back in slowly, sheer pleasure on his face. Then he frowns.

“Worse. He was weak. His orders was to just damage the convoy ships, not blast ‘em to pieces. He just wanted to kick the FTG in the balls. They wasn’t even supposed to take slaves. G’radian is a wuss and he showed it, over and over again.” Cyclops spits a few eyeballs on the floor and curses. At least I think it's a curse, hard to say. “All those FTG maggots just sittin’ there, ripe for the pickings. G’radian just let them go. It’s stupid and it has finally caught up to him.”

"

Our heroes have finally hit pay dirt! This cutthroat's bar has a Grochna barkeep with a taste for goobies and a grudge against G'radian.

We finally learn where our target has gone and why. But it seems there is more, and less, to G'radian and his son, Bolton, than FTG intel thinks. 

Things are starting to go sideways. AGAIN!

Now what do they do???

Time is running out fast...