Duck Hook

By Mark Ridgely

This complex story follows former Navy Seal Sam Snead Hook in the last occupation most people would consider; professional golfer. Much like the Lee Child thrillers that follow Jack Reacher, Duck Hook takes readers on a psychologically suspenseful adventure that involves golf tournaments, congressmen, family secrets, and bad guys. It had been eight years since Sam had touched a club and several years before that playing competitive golf. However, that is what Sam Snead Hook set out to do, spending all of his time playing in small local tournaments and finding a place to practice anywhere he could. His luck turned when he received a call at the last minute to play in a professional tournament in Charlotte, NC at Quail Hollow Country Club. He was asked to fill a spot vacated at the last minute. Despite the fact that Sam was in San Diego, he accepted the challenge. Sam arrived minutes before his tee time and was paired with a young charismatic golfer, and promptly played poorly by hitting duck hooks into trouble. After playing a less than stellar round of golf, Sam found a restaurant he could eat at and contemplate his next move. He struck up a conversation with the restaurant owner, John Grecco, a former Army Ranger, Special Forces. The two found a lot of common ground despite the rivalry between the Army and Navy, making Sam feel comfortable. The action started when Sam went to the bathroom, returning to find the restaurant in chaos, with a woman lying unconscious next to the chair he had occupied. John was in a battle with two men simultaneously. What was Sam to do? He could leave, but Sam not Sam. He jumped in to help his new friend. The adventure continues as we watch the new acquaintances battle not only for their own lives, but for the lives and safety of the people of Charlotte.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Ridgely
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463072332

Mark Ridgely

Most of my writing over the past 30 years was for business communication. I started my own business in insurance and real estate after college. After 17 years, I sold the business, starting a new career. Amongst the trials and tribulations of the career change, I started writing to keep sane.In December 2012, I started my first fictional novel "Duck Hook.” It was a book derived from stress and the desire to write. "Center Cut," the continuation of the Sam Snead Hook story, was started a few weeks after Duck Hook was completed.I enjoy writing for several reasons, but I have to say, one of the biggest is the characters talking to me. I must tell their story. Sam Hook lives in my head and his story consumes my thoughts, as do many others.

Book preview

Duck Hook

A Sam Hook Story

Mark Ridgely

5/14/2016

Sam Hook is struggling to become a professional golfer. At his first tournament Sam is required to use the skills developed in the United States Navy. His actions after he leaves the golf tournament prevents death from a virus unleashed by a secret organization only known as the Organization. Olaf tries to kidnap a woman, but Sam steps in and prevents his perverted routine from happening.

Dedication

Writing your first book is a daunting task. It’s even more so when trying to work in a high stress job. The people in your life become more important as the process of writing progresses. This book is a testimony to the dedication of the most important people in my life.

To my wife Becky, you are the rock that helped inspire me with your constant encouragement.

Sherry, Todd, Dave, you provided the inspiration to keep going.

This book is a cathartic story that resided in my mind for many years. It’s a story that had to be told. The characters and situations in the book are figments of my naïve imagination. I wanted the book to be real or have the semblance of being real. It is graphic and violent. Both are part of life.

None of the characters or situations are real. If there are any errors, they are mine.

Thank you.

Mark

Contact: [e-mail]

Web: samsneadhook.com

Chapter One

You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way. – Walter Hagan

Golf is a difficult game to play well. However, golf is a game of inner control, requiring laser like focus for every shot and persistence to keep going when the outcome looks dire.

To survive on the professional golfer’s tour the player must make money and the difference between a long career on tour and a short timer could be just a few strokes every tournament. There are few avenues to become a professional tour player, but the most grueling is obtaining a sponsor’s exemption or playing a Monday qualifying round where a player gains entrance to the field for that week by winning a very competitive one day tournament. The uncertainty creates a tremendous amount of pressure that the player must learn to deal with. Players then hope to win enough money in the four-day tournament to play the tour on a regular basis.

Winning money is the object of a professional golfer. It was the pressure that inspired Sam. He had to play well every chance given to him. Sam struggled to make ends meet, spending most of his cash on tournament entrance fees, caddie fees and access to practice facilities. He lived with friends from his military career and anyone he could convince, giving him the financial reprieve to keep pursuing his dream.

Sam found Jacob Farmer, a former member of his Navy unit, to stay with while he figured out how to get on the tour. Jacob left the Navy with Sam over six months earlier, taking up residence in San Diego working in security, having fun working in construction and loving life. Sam wanted to spend time with Jacob because he wasn’t married. He knew Jacob treasured using Sam as bait to snare women. His friend never complained about having him as a roommate if he played along with his womanizing antics.

It’s about time you woke up, Sam said to his roommate as he exited out of his bedroom with a scantily clad woman following him.

Sam, this is Amber. Do you remember her from last night?

Not really, Sam replied.

The woman looked at Sam a little surprised, and then walked to the refrigerator lifting a gallon of milk from its rack. Sam watched her football jersey lift several inches revealing nothing underneath the jersey.

You could at least say hi to her asshole, demanded Jacob watching his friends gaze.

Hi Amber, Sam responded.

Hello Sam. I hope you don’t mind my hanging out with both of you for a little while today.

Not at all because I will be playing in a small money tournament a few miles from here, then go to the range to practice. It will be late tonight before I return. You two can have the house to yourself all day if you want.

Sam looked over to Amber just in time to see a glimpse of a devious smile as she changed her gaze from Sam to Jacob. A big grin crept across Jacob’s face before he said, Sounds like a good day to me. I’m sure we will find something to do while you are gone Sam. Jacob could see the expression on his friends face change to the familiar stone cold look of concentration. What’s the game today?

A couple local businesses have pooled their money for a sizable prize to attract amateurs and pros to their golf tournament. I’ve played with these guys before and they have an outsized view of themselves and their game. They haven’t come within ten strokes of me. I guess this is their way of finding a way of beating me. Maybe they have found a ringer.

What score will you put up on these unknowing peasants?

I must keep the score close Jacob, that’s what keeps them coming back for more. I will take all of their money, but only after they see a small glimmer of hope, replied Sam.

Amber looked at Sam after swallowing a mouthful of food, Why do you do this Sam?

Do what?

Play these ridiculous games with people who know they don’t have a snowballs chance in hell of beating you without you letting them. Why are you wasting your time and talent on them? Jacob asked, walking into the kitchen.

I play these games to learn, Sam replied following Jacob into the kitchen.

But the money is peanuts compared to what you could earn in security… like Jacob, Amber interjected.

Sam sized up the woman standing next to Jacob, who’s this woman and how much have you told about me?

Glancing at Amber Jacob said, probably more than I should have. Don’t get mad Sam. She has a way of making me talk.

Looking at Amber, he seethed, really?

Well Amber it appears you are the first woman to grab hold of something other than his balls. I didn’t think a woman could do it.

What…she doesn’t have me emotionally? Come on Sam you know me better than that. Jacob said uncontrolled. Sam looked over at Amber her reaction was instantaneous.

You’re an asshole Jacob. You told me you have never felt this way about anyone, Amber yelled.

I’m sorry Amber, I…I…I didn’t mean it.

Don’t worry Amber, he meant what he said, Sam interjected. Jacob didn’t want to show his weakness.

Sam started heading toward the front door of the small house when he heard the phone ring.

Hello, this is Jacob, grabbing the phone.

The voice on the other end responded, I am calling from the golf tour, is Sam Hook available?

Yes, he is. Good timing, he was just about to leave. Jacob turned to Sam and motioned him to the phone and mouthed it’s the tour calling.

This is Sam, he said grabbing the phone out of Jacob’s hand.

Congratulations Sam, your name is next up on the list to fill in for a player unable to play this week, said a female voice on the other end of the phone.

Sam looked around, and then asked into the phone, What day is today?

Monday, came the reply from the tour representative.

Do I have enough time to get there? I am in San Diego, Sam said thinking aloud.

I wouldn’t know. How you travel is up to you. Do you want the tee time? Your tee time will be 7:20 a.m. on Thursday, second group off, she answered.

Great. Thank you for calling…yes I will take the tee time, Sam said. He didn’t know how he would get there, but when an opportunity arises, you must take it.

When you arrive, check-in at the scoring tent. Good luck.

Sam hung up and said out loud, I’ll need all the luck I can get. Then looking over at Jacob he smiled and raised his hand for a high five. Can you believe this? Finally, I’m getting a chance to play with the big boys. I need to leave right now to catch a bus. Sam started to pick up the few items he had to put in his golf bag. Can you take me to the bus terminal? Not thinking Amber would be interested in going with them to the terminal.

Amber spoke up, I want to go too. After we drop you off it will give Jacob and myself time to discuss our earlier conversation, she glanced at Jacob with a stern look.

Of course, dude. You’ll do great, Jacob replied with excitement turning from Amber to Sam. Remember when you’re walking down the fairway to scope out the babes.

Jacob, I need to stay focused and make the cut, Sam looked at Amber and smiled at her as if he understood what their conversation would be.

Too bad, I’ll bet there are a lot of hotties watching, Jacob countered thinking the southern belles of Charlotte would find Sam irresistible.

Just take me to the bus station, ok?

************************************************************

The car pulled out of the London airport parking lot and headed for the center of the city. The passenger sat silent as the chauffer driven car weaved in and out of the traffic. Eventually the discrete vehicle turned onto A13 highway heading toward the Canary Wharf district. The car turned away from the popular area and stopped in front of a dark restaurant. The driver exited the car, opening the backdoor for the man. A tall well-built man exited the vehicle and headed towards the entrance.

The passenger wound his way to the back passing empty seats, following a well-armed escort, and finding a chair placed a few feet away from a booth. The passenger sat in the chair, noticing a person sitting on the opposite side, hidden in the dark shadows. He could make out the form of a woman.

Hello, he said.

Hello Olaf. I’m glad you could make it to London on such short notice, the female voice returned.

Olaf could not see the detail of her face or body, but it wasn’t important. His reason for the meeting was to get instructions. It’s time for work, what is it you need from me?

You’re a good soldier Olaf, that’s why we have asked you to take on this important task. The organization is planning another attack on the United States to further disrupt the economy and destabilize the government. We want you to form a team to set up in the Charlotte North Carolina area and plan an attack. Sliding a folder across the table to Olaf, inside are detailed resources you must obtain and use in your attack. Once you complete the task, the reward will be sizeable for you.

Olaf wanted to ask this woman many questions about the organization, but after years of trying, it was a futile effort. I am sure the compensation will be commensurate with the risk. This event will shove the United States closer to the objectives of the bosses?

You know that everything happening in the world is controlled. The organization will make sure everything stays on task since the organization is timeless. At the end of the day, all governments conform to the wishes of the bosses because the organization comprises officials in of every government in the world. Party politics doesn’t matter because each and every party has members accountable to us, as does business, the military, and academia and on and on. Good luck Olaf it’s time for you to leave. You have much to do.

Olaf gathered the items on the table and left the restaurant.

***********************************************************

Sam stood on the first tee, wearing a pair of kakis pants and a nondescript light blue shirt. They were the same clothes he wore on the 18-hour bus trip to Charlotte. Looking at his playing partner on the first tee, Sam couldn’t have picked a better one. The young guy, Ricky, was making his name on the professional tour by wearing bright colorful clothes and winning a couple of prestigious tournaments. Sam felt uncomfortable in this environment due to the fact it is all new to him. A few of Ricky’s fans stood around the first tee in hopes of seeing the high-flying player up close even at the early hour.

Generally, nerves would be a problem approaching the first tee for Sam, but his struggles leading up to his arrival was long and difficult, leaving his nerves silent. Arriving at the course ten minutes before his tee time left little time for him to warm up and tired from sleep deprivation, he prayed his first swing would connect with the ball.

Before Sam’s arrival, he had significant hurdles to overcome. He didn’t have a caddie and had never played the course, not a good combination for a professional golfer. Normally, Sam would be warming up on the driving range, an hour or more before arriving on the first tee. However, since Sam did not have a chance to complete his regular warm ups on the range, he started taking practice swings on the first tee to revive the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back that had not been used for several days.

After a couple swings a tall man approached, Hi my name is Dale. I heard you needed a caddie. My player had to leave due to personal reasons, so I decided to hang around if you needed a caddie for the tournament.

Hi Dale, I do need someone to carry my bag. My bag isn’t as heavy as the tour bag you usually carry so you will get a break. Sam was relieved he had something positive to start the tournament.

"Dale, do you think Ricky could be much brighter with the all red outfit?

Wait until you see him in all orange or florescent green. You might want to wear sunglasses to tone down the brightness, Dale said laughing. How far do you hit your drives? Dale asked.

I can hit it about 300 yards, but you know it depends on the course and conditions. I am sure you will figure out club selection, Sam replied.

Ricky teed the ball up and hit it down the middle of the fairway with a slight draw ending up about 320 yards from the tee (the PGA average driving distance is 281 yards). The sparse crowd applauded loudly and several yelled good shot.

Now it was Sam’s turn, passing Ricky as he was on his way to tee up his ball. Good shot, Sam said to Ricky. Sam felt calm and unusually loose as he approached the ball. He hesitated several seconds to appreciate the view of the picturesque golf course and the fact he was playing in a real tournament. He hoped the feeling of excitement would never get old. At impact, he realized his stroke was solid, the ball ending up a few feet from Ricky’s ball.

Good shot, yelled Ricky to return the gesture.

Ricky birdied the first and second hole while Sam birdied the first and made par on the second. Ricky hit another beautiful shot off the third tee, sauntering off and raising his cap in thanks to the applause from the crowd and feeling good about his game. To keep up with Ricky, Sam needed to keep his nerves in check and walk to the tee with a lot of confidence. Taking his stance, he swung to hit the ball. Normally he hit the ball with a little draw or fade, but this time the ball started down the middle of the fairway and started hooking left into the trees, Crap…not now, Sam said to himself, his nerves rearing their ugly head.

Sam has fought this flaw in his golf swing for as long as he could remember. His father always told him not to fight it, that he should play it or at least keep the right to left trajectory. At first, he focused on ways to eliminate it and Sam had figured out a way to control the duck hook most of the time, but abandoned the effort because under extreme duress, his swing would break down and revert to its normal state and he would hit a duck hook. Sam hated the fact his swing flaw might someday cost him a tournament or miss a cut, or his dream. But he also knew some very famous golfers fought a duck hook during their golf careers. Sam decided not to dwell on the past and dig down deep, maintain a positive attitude and hit his next shot the best he could.

Don’t let the shot get to you Sam, said Dale trying to keep a positive vibe for Sam.

The walk from the tee to his ball seemed to take forever and when Sam finally arrived, a small group of people had formed around his ball, forcing his caddie to move them out of the path of the next shot, giving him time to think. Sam surveyed his lie and determined the shot he had was hitting the ball through an opening in the trees.

Sam needed to hit a low hook. He took his stance and turned to strike the ball with a hook swing. the ball flew through the trees without as much as a tick and the ball ended up in the bunker on the left side of the green still giving him a chance for par.

Sam’s play did not improve over the balance of the round with the pressure of playing in a high profile tournament. The duck hook continued to haunt Sam during the rest of the round, scrambling to score a three over par. 75. Not the worst score in the field, but a long way from the 68 Ricky shot. Sam was behind the leader by nine strokes and needed a great round tomorrow to make the cut. At this course, and with the strength of this field, it would make the task almost impossible. But Sam always looked at the impossible as an opportunity, no matter what he was doing.

Will I see you tomorrow Dale? Sam asked his borrowed caddie.

I expect to be here and collect my paycheck, unless something better comes up, responded Dale. The question is whether you will show up tomorrow.

I’ll be here. Sam answered not totally believing what he said.

Ricky and Sam finished the round with the customary pleasantries, signed the scorecards, and went about their business. Ricky went on to sign autographs and Sam went to find a place to store his clubs for the night, hit balls on the range, a place for dinner and a place to stay for the night. It was quite a contrast between players with a place on the tour and those trying to get on.

Chapter Two

Golf is the closest game to the game we call life. You get bad breaks from good shots. you get good breaks from bad shots - but you have to play the ball where it lies.

- Bobby Jones

Since Sam didn’t have a car and didn’t know anyone in town, he decided to start walking towards the Uptown area of Charlotte to look for a good place to eat, watch some TV, and surround himself with people while he contemplated what to do next.

Sam did have some options. First, he could find a place to stay to make the eleven a.m. tee time to continue playing, or he could withdraw in order to move on to the next tournament in hopes of making the tournament through a sponsor’s exemption or the Monday qualifier, since he didn’t have full time status to the professional tour.

Sam, like many professional golfers, needed to make cuts, therefore earn enough money to keep his golf privileges. It’s a cutthroat way to make a living, but most players on tour had sponsors to support them in some way. Sam had nothing to support him, other than a little money he had saved. His only possessions were the clothes on his back and his off-the-shelf golf clubs.

The Brown Bear grabbed his attention for dinner. A high end restaurant with a large bar, something resembling the bar in the TV show Cheers. Televisions surrounding the bar tuned to the various sports channels, paraphernalia signed by famous patrons hung on the walls and an ambiance that appealed to families, young professionals and older couples. Sam sat down to enjoy a cocktail, dinner and watch the various games on the televisions picked by the restaurant.

As the night progressed Sam noticed more and more people arriving to enjoy drinks and the delicious food.

How long have you been here? Sam asked the bartender.

About an hour, my name is John Grecco. This place gets busy with the tournament in town, so I am working to make sure the patrons enjoy themselves, John answered Sam. John was a well-built African-American with a military haircut. He surveyed Sam before asking, What’s your name?

Sam Hook.

Ah… What do you do Sam Hook? John asked.

I’m a struggling professional golfer, Sam replied. They both laughed at the comment, probably for different reasons, but for Sam it was the thought of living a dream, especially one as a professional golfer. Sam could tell John wouldn’t be very sympathetic towards a golfer, a soft profession, but Sam stood 6’4" and carried a lean muscular 215 lbs., had blue eyes and blonde hair.

So, what is your story? You look a little out of place in this pop stand, Sam speculated.

I served in the 101st Airborne in Iraq and Afghanistan, and then moved on to work for a private security company. I came here to be closer to my sister and her family, picking up odd jobs to help pay the bills. This is a nice place with a good clientele and I was fortunate to purchase the business with the help of some good friends and savings.

Why did you work in private security? Sam asked.

I don’t know. I did a lot of things in the 101st, and as new commanders came on board it became more difficult to follow their lead. I heard it was different in the security business and they made it sound like the job was high pay for high risk. At that particular point it seemed like the right thing to do.

Do you regret the decision to leave? Sam inquired, curious to know more.

Yes and no. I had a lot of friends in the unit that continued their career in other Military units. Some are on easy street right now. There are some others still making an impact on the future of the US armed forces. The money was good in the security business, but it felt a little sleazy or at least a little like I was working for the second string, John said with a little regret in his voice.

John moved over to assist another patron. Sam finished his food moving his attention from the new patrons entering the front door to the televisions, not looking for anything in particular. Sam wanted to find out if this would be a place to stay for a while and maybe visit again as long as he was in Charlotte. Sam liked people watching for several reasons. You learn what potential threats are near (just something he picked up from his military training), and second to study the dynamics of groups was entertaining to him, especially when men try to interact with females in bars. There have been occasions Sam was forced to step in and prevent a barroom brawl, but most of the time he would listen and watch the drama.

Sam saw a group of men wearing suits at a table in the middle of the room, talking about financial deals they were working on. Another group sat at a table up against the wall less formal, but the group had an equal number of women and men. He couldn’t tell if they were couples, but he did notice one of the men in the group start making advances on the woman standing next to him,

Quiet at first so the others would not notice, then more noticeable to the group when he put his hand on her shoulder. She slipped out of her chair with the other women to go to the bathroom, taking the opportunity to squeeze his ass, much to his delight.

As the women moved off towards the restrooms, Sam heard the front door open. In walked a gaggle of ladies, Sam counting ten, seeming to be having a night out for fun and drinks. Sam had seen groups of drunken women before, this group was no exception, but he noticed something different. One woman seemed to be the leader, the center of the group. Everyone looked at her when they talked, and she tried to participate in all of the conversations around the table.

Tall compared to the others, athletically built and her hair a silky blonde woman, manicured to the highest degree. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and moved as she turned her head in conversation. The others in the group varied in height and hair color with brunette being the most common.

Since this was the first day of the tournament, Sam wasn’t looking for a hot night of drinking. But Sam didn’t have anywhere to go, he chose to stay and watch the free entertainment.

The females moved a couple of open tables together near Sam and took their places around it giving him a front row voyeuristic seat.

After eating his meal, drinking several beers, and listening to the ladies talk about this guy and that guy, what they liked and didn’t like, their new clothing purchases and what a great deal each had found, and what party they were going to wear a particular outfit. Sam started to wonder what their real lives were like. He liked listening to people talk about their extravagant lifestyle.

The tall blond participated in every conversation, mentioning a couple guys she would like to fuck just for fun and how she’d use her looks as the means of attracting an unknowing quarry. Sam figured she was very experienced in the art of male attraction, with an outward command of the situation and