Berg woke the instant the roach skittered across his face and slammed the little pest against the wall. He hadn’t had any sleep aid, nightcaps of Jack Daniels since he got the call about this job and his reaction time was returning
“Shit” It was only 5 am. Berg hadn’t been up this early in months. At least not since he had been “retired” from the Rangers. Berg got out of his not so clean bed and headed to the shower.
He flipped on the light and was happily surprised not to see more roaches scurrying from the light. He got into the phone booth of a shower and stood under the hot water, eyes closed as it ran over his scared torso.
It was 5:25 am now. Berg fully dressed, had only one thought, coffee. The mom and pop place wouldn’t open until eight. So berg hopped into his jeep in search of the nearest Waffle House. Finding a Waffle House in Georgia wasn’t hard at all – even a blind could find one. It seems there is one on every corner. As a matter of fact the one he choose was only about ¾ of a mile away, right by I-75. If for some reason he didn’t like this first one, there was another just on the other side of the underpass. They were in view of each other.
Berg walked in and sat at the counter. Right away a waitress plopped down a steaming cup of coffee.
Coffees free for service men. What’ll ya have.
Berg thought a moment about correcting her but let it pass.
Can I get two eggs over easy with bacon, toast, grits and a large O J?
Sure thing, hun
With that the waitress hurried off with the order and Berg took a look around the place. It was busy for the time but its location next to the interstate explained that.
Here you go hun. Can I warm up that cup?
Berg chowed down on the food. It was really good and cheaper than mom and pops place.
Berg was just finishing up some of the best grits he’d ever eaten when the hairs on the back of his neck started to tingle. He sensed it before he saw it. Berg shifted his gaze to the right to see a man fidgeting in front of the register. He saw the man’s coat pocket and knew what was in it and what was about to happen.
Berg’s waitress was coming to the register to ask the robber for his order. Before he had the pistol level with the counter, Berg had delivered a blow across the young robbers windpipe and twisted the pistol from the falling man.
The waitress was screaming and a dozen cell phones were trying to dial 911. Berg stood holding the pistol on the robber who was just now realizing what had happened.
Berg thought the weapon was unusual for a person like this to be using. It wasn’t some cheap piece of crap but, a Browning Hi-Power 9mm. If the scum on the floor had started shooting it could have become ugly. The Browning holds 13 rounds – lots of victims.
Suddenly everyone in the place started clapping. The manager walked up but not to close
Mister, anytime you eat here it’s on the house!
Just then the first two police cars arrived. Berg raised his hands holding the barrel of the weapon while one foot stood on the would be robber's neck