DUSTER
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
My first introduction to the Federal Bureau of Investigation was outside of Green River Wyoming. I was working for an outfit named Sundown construction and the boys on the crew and myself became quite fond of the Gordon Lightfoot song of the same name (Sundown). In the bars of a night you would often see us chatting with each other, eyeing up local ladies or rowdies and we would wink and sing softly to the words of old Gordon “Sundown you better take care if I find you been creeping round my back stair…” The card game was fairly high stakes with invitation only players in attendance. There was about $10,000 dollars showing round the table and I was getting good cards. I had caught the eye of a sweet brunette called Brandi (And yes, she was a fine girl…) and I knew it was going to be a good night. What I did not know was that three of the other six people sitting at the table were high on the FBI's most wanted in Wyoming list. I mean seriously, how would I know this? I never went to the post office, never saw the wanted posters, FBI's most wanted...C'mon…Really? That's Hollywood crap. In those days I never thought about carrying a gun. I always wore boots and I had a pristine double-edged Arkansas Toothpick with a 6-inch blade tucked very nicely in a slight sheath attached to my right boot. It was mainly for show, but the ladies liked it. It was rare that I was involved in one on one disputes or fisticuffs. I was just a popular guy and usually talked my way around issues. Most of my trouble came in big chunks when ten to twenty guys would go at it and I just happened to be in the vicinity. In these cases, I would usually grab the drunkest guy I could find and swing him around in front of me until the cops came or the fight otherwise broke up. I learned that this was not an uncommon way to get a solid reputation as a brawling badass without ever really having to brawl or be a badass. If I had known how my attendance at this card game with the FBI's most wanted gents would eventually affect my life I truly believe I might have just walked away…However if I did that I would have missed out on Miss Brandi and even knowing what I know now, She was worth it. Just after Midnight the mood at the table became a bit serious as the game drew to a close. I had just won a pot of about $1800 and really pissed off a guy with a pony tail who was wearing John Lennon specs, boots and a bright blue button up shirt. He was giving me the bad eye when the place suddenly exploded. Two doors were kicked open and the place was raided by a half a dozen Feds. The AIC (Agent In Charge) lead guy was wearing shades even though it was midnight when he busted in. They were joined by some BATF (Bureau Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms) guys and some local LEOS's. As the chaos ensued around the room AIC shades man started grabbing guys and slamming them around. I was able to grab most of my cash and shove it over to Brandi who had suddenly materialized next to me. She stuffed it in her shirt and was gone like a ghost. Several fights broke out and I grabbed a really drunk guy from Cheyenne and started my brawler dance keeping him between me and the feds. Then all hell broke loose. Drunk Cheyenne guy pulled out a .45 colt automatic from his waistband and slammed me upside the head, gashing my temple something fierce. Then he leveled his piece at one of the players from the table and pumped three rounds into him. FBI Shades AIC shot Cheyenne guy and I heard reports from at least three other guns, including one booming blast from the fire arm of Randall Pederson a big lean Wyoming state trooper who was blazing away with a .44 mag. I dropped to the ground and tried to find some kind of cover. I was in good company as there were several guys and gals trying to do the same thing. There must have been over a dozen shots fired and it was without question the most intense life scene I had ever been involved in. When the shooting stopped I saw at least six bodies on the ground oozing blood, and not moving. One of the bodies wore an Absaroka county Deputy Sheriff's uniform. A second body was the guy sitting across from me at the table, then there was drunk Cheyenne guy also dead as a road killed cat. I could smell the acrid copper odor of blood and see pools of red mixed up in the saw dust on the floor. Gun smoke hung heavy in the air and my ears were ringing like a brass band from all the shooting. After the ER teams hauled away the dead and wounded, the FEDS carted about ten of us off to the local jail for sorting. I was given the third degree by AIC shades and a couple of his cronies, but I could tell their hearts just weren't in it. I didn't have a clue what was going on and no idea what they were after and they knew it. They did their best though to try not to show me that they knew I did not know. I was beginning to think I was being used as some kind of an interrogation training tactic dummy for some junior agents to practice on. After an hour I was taken back into the holding cell with the rest of them. After three hours I was bailed out by my soon to be favorite Wyoming Cowgirl, Miss Brandi…
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
DUSTER travels the wild and dangerous path of Roughnecks working in the Oil field boom town's of the mid 1980's . It follows them from their fledgling petty crime days dodging the local cops, though local turf wars, to all out gang warfare from Montana to Mexico, while they are consistently involved with federal law enforcement in one form or another. Their plotting takes them deep into the racketeering side of the Oil industry in Oklahoma where at first the illegal money is good, The Music is great, and the Girls are pretty. Very soon though they find themselves not only dodging federal agencies but are also smack in the middle of an all out gang war to control the oil territories from border to border. In turn they find out that the FBI is the very least of their problems as the Gang war pits crew against crew on a murderous rampage. The Mysterious El Patron surfaces from his dark realm and decides he has had enough of the Oklahoma Gang wars is going to put an end to them. Add a another Mysterious player, The Long Cool Woman In a Black Dress, and the Tale becomes an Intriguing and fast paced read. Packed with Racketeering, Guns, Girls, Custom made Boots, Pickups, the FBI, and Good old boys doing what they do best, DUSTER sets the stage for an entertaining story set in the good ole oil and gas roughneck days. With humorous plot twists, many mysteries, having fun, and ample bangs. This "growing up tale" of the Oklahoma Boys will keep you amused and entertained, long after you have finished.