And I Wanted To Be A Boat Bum by Jim Hawk
Let me introduce myself. My name is Gore Lyle. I’m a six-foot-two-inch, two-hundred-pound (of mostly muscle) ex-Green Beret, ex-cop, undercover SPUTF (Special Police Undercover Terrorism Force) agent. I also am independently wealthy thanks to a mob chief. Did I mention the mob would probably like to take me out? I say probably because I don’t talk to them about that subject. When I interact with the mob, it usually involves a gun and little talk.
This all sounds cut-and-dried, but life is never cut-and-dried. I always carry bad memories of Green Beret missions that went wrong where a lot of killing was involved.
I was a different brutal person back then. Then, I found God. However, that old Gore is always there in the background like a bad dream. And yet, working in a dangerous occupation, that bad Gore comes in handy, at times, but must be kept in check most of the time. Only crying out to God and my weird sense of humor helps. What a quand