Betrayal Is Beautiful

By Andy Slade

In a world of shadows and secrets, John Chayne's return home becomes a dangerous dance with betrayal and bloodshed!

 

When John Chayne, a handsome, tall, and mysterious MIA from the Iraq War, is spotted by an ex-member of his old platoon, he is forced to leave the farming family he's lived with for two years. He doesn't want to cause any more problems than he has to, so heads off to his home pueblo in the Four Corners area of New Mexico. 

 

To those who knew him, his arrival at the Pueblo was unexpected. But not to Paul Begaye, an old schoolmate from John's high school days. A drug cartel has completely taken over the pueblo and Paul is their head man. Paul had always been strange, violent, and absolutely brilliant. But now, he's taken his evil ways to a whole new level.

 

Paul's primary goal is to take over the cartel for himself. He's got the money, the weapons, and the brilliance to pull it off. But the cartel won't go away easily, and Paul soon realizes that he needs solid battlefield experience and attempts to hire John Chayne to complete the battle against the cartel.

 

Will John Chayne give in to the evil?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bennie Rosa
• Release date: Mar 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215735770

Andy Slade

Andy Slade was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, a place where dreams always seem real. He lived in San Francisco, a paradise for dreamers, especially for those who love to write stories. And with many stops along the way, he now lives in New Mexico, where the glowing sun inspires, and the spirit grows. Betrayal is Beautiful is Andy’s first novel. It is set in The Land of Enchantment. Note: Andy Slade creates a path to freedom by never giving up. He guides the reader on a journey like his own. His varied experiences in life, including teaching and driving a NYC taxi among many others, give his stories a unique perspective that always keeps you on the edge of your seat with plot twists and surprises

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Pip

He called himself Steve Randal. It was a rainy morning as he peered out from under his blanket, feeling the dampness in the air and the spray of raindrops from the windowsill next to his bed. He had named his feathered friend Pip, a red finch that always flew alone and was always hungry. Today, Pip had been looking for a dry place out of the rain and decided that Steve's windowsill was the place. He hopped in closer, next to Steve's nose, and ruffled his feathers to shake some of the water off, which landed on Steve's forehead. Steve smiled under the blanket and whispered, Thanks a lot.

The Parish Family Farm was located just west of Altamont, New York, near Schenectady. Steve wanted to get out of bed, but he didn't want to frighten Pip away, so he waited for the rain to let up. When it didn't, he eased himself out from under his covers and found a crust of old bread, which he rubbed briskly between his fingers and placed it on the blanket. Pip finished his breakfast and was getting restless.

Just then, Milton Parish sloshed his way toward the barn and stopped by Steve's open window. He told him to rest for the day, and Steve tried to look disappointed, but after working three weeks consistently, he raised his hand up in the air and fell back asleep.

When he woke up, it was still raining, and he could hear Casey playing outside.

Come in here this minute. Do you hear me? Said Vanessa, her mother.

But Mom...

No, this minute, before you get sick.

Steve saw the young girl kick a puddle as the rain came down on her. Milton was shaking his head and smiling at his daredevil of a daughter, and Steve smiled at the entire scene through his open window. He got up and decided he would go to the Valley View Diner for breakfast since Milton gave him the day off, and he was hungry.

Steve saw Milton puttering around the front of the barn.

I'll be back after I get some breakfast, if it's OK with you, Milton?

Sure. Enjoy yourself. 

His white pickup with the rickety camper shell on the back moaned and groaned. Nonetheless, it started up as usual and he was off. Everything seemed right as the truck bounced and splashed its way out.

STEVE SAW A FEW CARS in the parking lot as his pickup rattled in. The Valley View Diner was strictly local. He recognized the little light blue VW Bug. It belonged to the only server at the Valley View. Her name was Kat, and that's all Steve knew about her, even though he liked her.

There were numerous parking spots near the entrance, but as usual, Steve parked his car in the back, behind the kitchen service entrance, which faced east. He turned off the engine and gave thanks. The door to the kitchen was open and he could see Jaime, the cook, working the grill. As he turned off the engine, he stared through the windshield as the rain intensified. The torrent was coming down heavily. It was coming down so hard you couldn't see through it, but the sound of it pleased the handsome farm worker. It hypnotized him. He liked everything about it, so he sat in his truck and watched it for a while.

Jaime spotted him and waved him in with a hearty greeting.

You 'fraid of rain, amigo?

As he walked in, the cook patted him gently on his back.

What's good today?

You know everything good here.

The breakfast crowd was thin. Rain and hail pelted the windows enough so that it even caught Kat's attention. She was a pro at her job, doing it with a touch of class and a lot of humor, sometimes funny, sometimes sarcastic.

Steve sat in the back, near the kitchen. The fat, bald-headed man sitting in the booth in front of him was waiting for his order and shaking his bobble head. Kat stopped at Steve's table and set a coffee mug in front of him, and poured him one.

Milton finally gave you a day off? Asked Kat.

Steve looked up at her. His eyes betrayed the solemn look on his face. She knew his taciturn ways and also knew that he knew how to kid if he was in the mood. He played it for all it was worth.

Anything worth eating in this place? Asked Steve.

You're probably taking your life in your hands, young man?

So, you're saying this might be my last meal?

Might.

There was a long pause before she set the coffeepot down on his table and gave him a big hug around his neck. She removed his sweat-stained shredded John Deere cap and set it down on the table.

Make yourself at home, Stevie. I'll be back in a sec to get your order.

The bald guy got mouthy and as Kat walked by, he grabbed her arm and she pulled it away.

How long does it take to get your god damned food around here?

Look, mister, you'll have to wait like everyone else. It takes as long as the cook takes to cook it. I'll check on it when I have the chance.

As she started walking toward the kitchen, she stopped and turned around. And keep your hands to yourself. He waved his half-empty coffee cup at her. She kept walking with the pot of coffee.

Steve knew that this would not end well. The fat man tried to stare down Steve, but it didn't work. He kept staring and clenching as he held his coffee cup up in the air.

What the hell are you looking at? asked the fat man.

Good question.

Steve returned to his menu. 

The fat man finally stood up and yelled back toward the kitchen.

What the hell kind of place is this? Can't a guy get some service around here, Jesus fucking Christ?

He walked behind the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, and blustered his way back to his booth. His face was beet red and his eyes were bulging.

Look, pal, why don't you just chill for a minute and let the lady do her job? She's doing the best she can. Said Steve to his menu.

Who the fuck asked you, shit digger?

As he said this, Kat came out of the kitchen with the man's order. She had a funny look on her face as she approached his table and just as she reached it, all the dishes came crashing down right in front of the fat man. The sound abruptly stopped everyone from eating.

No one said a word. The condensation on the inside of the windows was sliding down fast. Steve got up and helped pick up the broken plates with Kat. She couldn't smile, but Steve did. He knew what she'd done, and he was proud of her. She quietly thanked him for his help as they both took the broken dishes back to the kitchen.

Try not to worry about that guy. Sometimes, people just have bad days and it's not always their fault, you know. Try to forget it.

Well, thanks for the happy thought Steve, but that guy's been here before, and it's always the same with him.

OK, but try to forget it, anyway.

I'll try. Thanks again, hon.

As they hugged each other and Steve walked back to his booth, he could see the smirking customer having a good laugh. Kat was right about the guy, but Steve kept on walking back to his own booth. As he passed him, the fat man stuck out his leg to trip Steve, which he easily avoided.

At six feet four, Steve was much bigger than him, and the fat man saw it.

Sorry, shit digger. I was just stretching my leg. No hard feelings.

Steve lost his appetite.

Have a good day, SHIT DIGGER! was all he heard. The man cackled.

Steve left ten dollars on the table and got up to leave.

Steve did not know that things were about to get a lot worse in ways he could never have imagined.

Kat was by the kitchen door.

Gotta go Kat. You're the best.

You too, hon.

He put on his damp John Deere cap back on and was getting ready to leave, as he always did, through the kitchen and out the back way. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a veteran sitting alone in a booth at the far end of the diner. He couldn't make him out clearly, but the sight of him made him stop cold. The man wore his wartime decorations and medals and an eye patch on his left eye.

When the man saw Steve smile at him, he spotted a distinct star-shaped birthmark on Steve's right temple. It had five jagged points. The veteran tightened up into a vise and boiled the blood in his face to a deep purple.

Steve smiled as he approached to pay his respects. The disabled veteran had a beard similar to Steve's. His eye patch had a star and stripes design. From a thick stainless steel chain hung his military ID, but Steve couldn't understand why he looked so pissed off. He guessed he had a right to be pissed. As he approached him, he could see his disfigured left arm and his amputated left leg.

He glared at Steve and stopped eating his breakfast, dropping his fork on the place and scattering the eggs and bacon all over the table. His right hand curled into a defensive fist. He kept staring at the birthmark. Steve hesitated slightly, but was determined to show his respect to the disabled vet. It was something he had to do. He stopped, went back for a second, and gave Kat a hug. The rain had lightened enough for his work on the farm to resume, and he knew Milton would want to get going as soon as it stopped.

Sorry about the drama, Steve. Maybe next time you can eat your meal in peace.

Sure. But don't let jerks like that get the better of you. You deserve better.

Will do.

I'm just going over to that veteran for a minute. I'll see you in a day or so.

Steve wasn't close enough yet to notice the name on the Dog Tag: Harvey Gilmore. It didn't seem important right then, but it would, shortly. No one in the diner took notice. Steve kept smiling at Gilmore and was determined to pay his respects, no matter what. The closer he got, the more the veteran looked familiar. He pushed a couple of stray chairs into their tables as he made his way to Gilmore's booth. He stopped, put his legs tightly together, and saluted with an intense sincerity.

Sir, thank you for your service, sir. You've honored our country, and your country honors you.

Steve held the salute as long as he could and then completed it with a flourish, bringing his right arm down to his side. Gilmore never moved.

The rain washed the world again, just when everyone thought it was over. A crack of lightning got the attention of the customers in the diner, except for Steve and Gilmore, each a prisoner of the other, shackled together by invisible chains, each for completely different reasons. Neither of them moved nor said a word.

It was a struggle for Gilmore to lift himself up. It felt like an eternity. Each had his reasons for waiting. Steve thought Gilmore was about to return the salute. But Gilmore rose by the force of his fury. Then he pushed himself sideways out of his booth, using the good arm and the bad arm in a lopsided push that got him almost upright. As he did so, he knocked his crutches onto the floor. He finally stood up and leaned against the table. Steve bent down to pick up the crutches. Gilmore kicked them away rather than to let Steve help him.

Don't touch them, traitor! I don't want your filthy hands on anything that belongs to me. You're a disgrace to your country and to the United States Military. You're a coward, Chayne, an embarrassment, the lowest piece of shit God ever created.

He spit in Steve's face and raised his hand as if he was about to punch him, but Steve easily grabbed it to stop the scene from getting worse. Then the face, the voice, the attitude came alive, and Steve remembered something.

The loud fat man came over in a flash, helped Gilmore back into his booth, and picked up the crutches that had fallen. He laughed at Steve and smirked at Kat, who had watched the scene unfold.

Steve's face went blank. He moved as if he were in a vacuum, a space within a space, airless, serene, where nothing falls into place and you can't see. It's a place of quiet reflection lifting you far above the earth. You float away with in a haze of finality. Then, as he got into his truck, it came to him!

Gilmore! Harv Gilmore! A good soldier, someone you could rely on no matter what was happening. They'd been in many battles together, even though they never talked much to each other. Steve couldn't get over what remained of the man or how angry he was. He pondered about what had happened for long time. Up until then, Steve had lived his life anonymously. Now, someone who knew him was about to end all that, unless he vanished again!

He wasn't about to let the Parish Family suffer like all the others. It haunted him every day of his life. He couldn't let that happen to the family he loved dearly. The Parish's had been like a second family to him.

When Steve drove out of the premises of the Valley View Diner, he took the back way to the farm to pick up his stuff.

THE PARRISH FAMILY Farm had been his home for almost two