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die-you-commie-bastards-daniel-byramDie You Commie Bastards

Elvis Majik, professional bar bouncer, has a sideline. He makes problems disappear. He calls these projects Majik shows. Now he has a problem that can’t be handled with his usual tactics. A Marine Corps combat hero Erica – E-Rack – Falcone has come to him for help with her investigation of missing young Marines and the theft of weapons from Camp Pendleton. What they find is a much deeper conspiracy.

Elvis calls in the best backup available… another Marine legend and possibly the meanest son of a bitch who ever lived. Their next decision is easy… It’s time for these commie bastards to die.

Trigger Warnings:

  • Characters blow up stuff
  • International incidents
  • Greasy diner food consumed
  • Well deserved respect given to Military
  • Surly marines
  • Surly vets (Army, Marines, Navy)
  • Violence
  • Mayhem
  • Excessive gunfighting
  • Hot chicks
  • Fights
  • Beat downs
  • Drinking of alcohol beverages
  • Cigarette smoking
  • Rough language
  • Mercenaries
  • Terrorists
  • Glutens ignored
  • and much, much more

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“How can I help you all today?” Gutterman asked, liking to get to the point. He probably had people to kill, and places to destroy. Top Gutterman is a very busy guy. But today I had something that may be of interest to him.

“Sir, we had some intel about a problem on the base. Erika is here on behalf of a former Marine who had a nephew go missing. We think there is more going on,” I said barely above a whisper.

I expected him to respond… perhaps nod… but Gutterman silently stared at us for a full and uncomfortable ten seconds. I fought the urge to squirm. I usually don’t squirm, but a Gutterman stare makes you do that involuntarily. E-Rack was already squirming. Then, in spite of my will to resist, I actually started squirming at about the seven-second point, but of course I had some previous experience with it so I was able to hold out longer than her.

Gutterman blinked once then leaned in closer to us, “There is a shit hole diner down at the Oceanside marina. You know the place Majik, that old jarhead Stinky O’Neil owns it. Good food, but, you know… possibly fatal, but good. I know you been there before Majik,” he said, speaking barely above a whisper as he looked around the room for surveillance.

“Yeah, I know the place, sir” I said.

“Meet me there at six this evening. We can’t discuss this shit here on the base.”

He abruptly got up and walked away without another word.

As he walked out the door, I looked at Erika, “I believe you are on to something.”

“You know you shouldn’t call him ‘sir.’ He is Top or Master Sergeant, not an officer.” She spoke like she was in a trance but still spewing Marine Corps procedure. Obviously she was still in shock, “How do you know him, anyway?” she asked as she continued staring at the place where he had disappeared into the glare of the sun. She asked me in a way like she was surprised someone who wasn’t a Marine would know a Marine.