CHAPTER 284
Dodgson settled into the second seat on the opposite side of the chopper. Howard King was in the first seat at his left. At Dodgson's right, three seats down, was George Baselton, chewing on a Slim Jim and keeping to himself.
Dodgson turned to Howard with a thoughtful expression. Extracting his Zippo from his pocket he worked it over in his fingers until he found the front face where his last name was boldly inscribed.
"My father gave me this." Dodgson held up the lighter so Howard could take a good look. "It was a high school graduation present. You know what he told me?"
King shook his head with a slight ridged jerk.
Dodgson's face lit up gently as he flipped open the lid and ignited the wick. "Sometimes, it's ok to burn bridges." He gave a light chuckle and snapped it closed.
"My father also gave me this." Dodgson slipped out a set of brass knuckles and threaded the fingers of his right hand through the holes. With a proud smirk he angled his fist at King. Dodgson placed his left hand on Howard's shoulder and began to reenact the scene as though Howard were the young Lewis Dodgson receiving a gift from his father.
As Howard's eyes focused on the business end of the brass knuckles he saw that the front face was a flat curving plate prominently embossed with the name DODGSON. Howard felt the grip on his shoulder become firm, almost aggressive, like a set of eagle talons.
Dodgson looked King straight in the face and said, "Lewis, the people you beat are the ones who will remember your name."
Dodgson released Howard. The brass knuckles disappeared into his pocket, and he settled in his seat.
Howard could still feel the finger impressions in his shoulder. He leaned back into his chair and digested the interaction he'd just had with Dodgson. It was not unlike other encounters he'd had. Every story, anecdote, or piece of wisdom was typically mildly disturbing at least. As well as this, they seemed to provide some obscure view into the man's life that never gave enough detail to know much about him. Moreover, they usually left one open to speculating the very worst.
Dodgson had said things that made Howard's mind spin. There were never enough details or evidence to know anything conclusively, but they left him wondering, what was Lewis Dodgson capable of? What would he do if you got in his way? How far would he go to succeed? When he needed to cover his tracks, how deep would he bury things?
From the start of their professional relationship Howard knew there were consistently things that Dodgson did that he didn't want to know about. Howard never asked, and Dodgson never divulged. Howard got the sense that Dodgson valued this unspoken rule of their dynamic, but it was so much more than that as well. It was the cotter pin of Dodgson even associating with him in the slightest. Howard was talented in his field, but he'd witnessed Dodgson ruin equally talented people's careers over the smallest of inquiries.
Beside King, Dodgson appeared to be fast asleep. He was taking one of his "power naps."
The sunlight entering through the rear of the chopper began to fade as the ramp lifted closed. The Chinook was ready for takeoff.