by Martin Maenza
Late one afternoon, at the automobile rental counter at San Diego International Airport, a man dressed in a handmade Italian suit was next to be served. He had short, cropped red hair and bushy red eyebrows.
“May I help you?” asked the woman behind the counter.
“Yes,” replied the man as he noticed her name tag. “Maria, is it?”
“Well, Maria, I’d like to rent a car to travel up the coast.”
“Economy or luxury?”
“I prefer to travel in comfort, if you please.”
She typed a few keystrokes into the keyboard before her. “Destination?”
“I’m not sure just yet. I’m trying to catch up with someone. He’s almost like family to me.” The man smiled as he thought to himself, He isn’t too far ahead of me now. Oh, yes, won’t he be surprised to meet me? I’ll be the destruction of Hawk — sure as my name is Kestrel!