Bad Guy Scene

f8db589443b1924807679758d3191682.2Carl Hall is my “Opposing Force” in The Last Griffin.   And this is his fourth     scene in the book.  Warning:  This is still a rough draft version.


Carl Hall settled behind the thick trunk of a tree.  Fifty yards from where       he hid was a cabin in a clearing.  Through the big picture window, he could see that Silver, the wolf and the griffin girl were gathered around the dining table.  He allowed himself a thin grin of satisfaction.  He’d been right.  Silver had led them right to her.

Hall had been patient.  He’d sat alone at a tiny table for two near the back of Tibio’s, a restaurant that featured authentic Cajun food.  The waitress had come twice, now, but he’d waived her away both times.  What he wanted wasn’t on the menu.  He wanted revenge.

He watched a couple near the front of the kitchy dining room.  That arrogant bastard, Silver, sat with his back to the room, chatting with a lawyer named Angelique Bellerophon who represented only shapeshifters in the legal system.  But only the shifters knew that.  To the rest of the world, she was what she pretended:  an attorney with a general practice.

With the exception of the three of them and the wait staff, there were two other couples at tables and one old man at the bar watching some police show on TV.  Though the place was nearly empty at that early dining hour, Hall couldn’t hear what was said at the front table.  Not that he’d needed words to tell him what was going on.  Silver took one of the woman’s hands and brought it to his lips in a kiss.

Bellerophon’s smile was sweet and haunted with a sorrow that echoed in her eyes.  After a few minutes of quiet talking, she’d reached into her over-sized purse, or was it a satchel?  He could never keep women’s trappings straight, despite his daughter’s attempt at educating him.  The anger around his heart had softened then, as it always did when he thought of his little girl.  He could almost forgive anything at times like that.  Almost.

The lady lawyer at the small table with Silver had pulled a manila folder out of her bag and handed it across the table.  She took her other hand from his.  Then she rose and walked out the door.

Silver took a sip from his drink and watched her go.  He’d leaned back in his chair and flipped open the folder.  Hall chuffed at this.  More time wasted.  He knew Silver had to return to the girl sometime.  Hall had settled in his seat and waved the waitress over.

Within ten minutes, Silver was up and on his way.  Hall had followed at a distance.  Twice, he’d almost lost the trail on the mountain roads, but, in the end, he’d found it again.  He’d radioed his men on the way.

Now he stood less than 100 yards from the girl.  She’d pay for what her family had done to his.  This time, when she was gone, there would be no more.  Of this, he was certain.


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