by King, Ryan
Sampson stared at him for a long moment. When he spoke again his tone was ominously soft, “Things change, General. I hear you, but if you change your mind, my offer will still stand. Regardless, you better not cut off our electricity, don’t even think about it, it’s not an option for you. If you do so, our people will no longer be friends. Do we understand each other?”
“I don’t take kindly to threats, sir,” said Anderson evenly.
Sampson stared at him, smirked, and turned and marched off without another word leaving Anderson standing on the border alone between the two former neighbors.
Chapter 4 – A Delicate Problem
General Anderson passed a message to Nathan at his parents’ home only a few days after the Taylor's arrived in Mayfield. He wanted to talk to him about something and also introduce President Reggie Philips, whom Nathan had heard much about.
Nathan recommended they meet for lunch at Hill’s Restaurant. Hill’s served the very best barbeque to be found anywhere around and N-Day had not diminished the wonderful quality of its food...although rationing had lowered the portions and limited the options considerably.
Nathan arrived early, shook hands, and talked to old friends. His celebrity status since arriving several days ago was not diminished. The stories of their adventures over many adventurous miles of dangerous territory were already legend, and gave hope to some that their separated family members might make it home also. Normally, Nathan would have tired of it quickly, but not so far. These people just seemed so genuinely glad to see him and to know that he was okay. It was hard to grow annoyed with that sort of attitude.
He sat at a corner table away from the crowd where he could see the front door. Nathan ordered iced tea and within a quarter hour saw General Anderson walk into the front of the restaurant in jeans and a polo shirt, foregoing his normal uniform. Anderson also evidently knew many of the same people and shook hands and talked as he made his way towards Nathan’s table. Nathan noticed a dignified-looking man in a coat and tie following behind Anderson. He also greeted individuals warmly and talked easily, but to Nathan looked tired.
They eventually made their way over to his table as Nathan stood to greet them. He shook Clarence Anderson’s hand and then President Philip’s as they were introduced. “It is a pleasure to meet you Colonel Taylor. I have heard so many good things about you from General Anderson.”
Nathan wasn’t sure what good things Anderson had told him, but he thanked him anyway. Asking them to sit, he waved over Annie, the waitress and his second cousin, who brought them iced tea as well. Besides water, and occasionally coffee, it was the only drink on the menu. Nathan took the liberty of ordering them all barbeque plates with extra hot sauce, knowing they would enjoy it and secretly hoping it was a little too hot for Clarence Anderson.
Anderson abruptly got down to business. “When were you planning to head back to the LBL Park?”
The question immediately put Nathan on the defensive. He’d been gone for years, and endured countless risks to get home. Now after only three days Anderson was pushing him. Nathan controlled himself. “I figured I would head back next week with the family.”
Reggie shifted uncomfortably, obviously picking up on Nathan’s tone. “Colonel Taylor, you misunderstand. We have a problem that we hope you can help us with that might delay your return. Can Lieutenant Colonel.,,,?”
He searched for the name and Anderson jumped in. “Buchannan. Lieutenant Colonel Harold Buchannan.”
“Yes. Can Lieutenant Colonel Buchannan handle things there for a few more weeks while you help us with an issue here?” asked Reggie.
“Well, I can tell you he is more than capable, but I don’t want to be away too long. We still have a lot of work to do. Perhaps we should begin with what the problem is and what I can do to help.”
Anderson agreed and quickly told Nathan about the interaction with Sampson the previous week. He left nothing out, not even Sampson’s offer to support a coup d’état by Anderson. He also described the strained relationship between the JP and the WTR and how Sampson had a much stronger and more capable military force. Sampson was in all regards a military dictator and had mobilized every available resource to his ends.
Nathan sat back in thought. He had of course heard about Sampson, but never in such stark terms.
“That is bad,” said Nathan. “But that doesn’t explain why you would want to delay my return. I would think you would want me there faster, to get our defenses ready.”
“No, it doesn’t,” said Reggie and he next told Nathan about the last meeting of the executive council where they openly discussed cutting off the WTR’s electricity over the pretext of them not having made their payments.
“So,” said Nathan in comprehension, “you believe that Sampson’s sudden change of attitude is due to knowing what was talked about in the council?”
“Yes,” said Anderson. “Sampson doesn’t give up something for nothing. It might be a coincidence, but I doubt it. I think we have a spy in our midst.”
“Which is why we have come to you,” said Reggie. “General Anderson tells me that you were a counterintelligence agent. If I understand correctly, that means you caught spies for a living.”
Nathan smiled. “Occasionally yes, it’s much harder than it sounds. It’s funny, you should bring this up, I’ve even been thinking about how to develop our own spy network, but…don’t you have anyone else who can do this? I’ve got a few other things going on, as you can imagine.”
“Not really,” said Anderson. “Not anyone who knows about this stuff. We also know you’re not involved because you just got here. We can trust you.”
Nathan wasn’t sure if he had just been insulted or complimented, but decided to continue on. “So what exactly do you want me to do?”
“Why, find out who it is and let us know,” said Reggie matter-of-factly.
Nathan rubbed his face and breathed out. “It’s not that simple. I’m not sure where to begin exactly.” Nathan searched for words and looked out the window.
“Just tell us what you think, Nathan,” said Reggie and smiled calmly. Nathan immediately felt more relaxed. As much as Anderson seemed to unintentionally get under his skin at every turn, Reggie Philips was the opposite and made him feel at ease.
“Well, first of all,” began Nathan, “you may not be looking for someone. If this were a year ago I would think you’ve got a listening device in your midst, but that seems less likely given the difficulty of electronic storage and transmission. But, still might be worth checking out. Also, you might be looking for several individuals who don’t even know of each other. If General Sampson is smart enough to run a spy into our midst, he’s also smart enough not to put all of his eggs in one basket. Granted, we know at least one of them has access to the council, but he or she may not even have been in the room.”
“What do you mean exactly?” asked Anderson.
“Well, let’s say one of the attendees of this meeting talked about the meeting to a girlfriend as pillow-talk or something and the girlfriend is your spy. We could be dealing with someone removed a few paces.”
“I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or not,” said Reggie. “It would be a relief to think that one of the men I’ve worked so hard with might not actually be a traitor, just maybe…indiscreet. But…that would make it harder to identify the individual, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, exactly,” stated Nathan. “Another problem is that investigations almost always take a long time unless you catch someone in the act, which is rare. Most of the cases I worked went months, and many went years in duration. Also, understand…” here Nathan almost didn’t go on, but decided to anyway, “if we’re dealing with someone well-trained by a professional intelligence operative, the chances of us ever catching them are remote.”
“Why?” asked Anderson. “We know they are close to us.”
“True,” Nathan answered. “But they want to keep their sources protected and hidden. The side
committing espionage normally has most of the advantages and the way we almost always catch them is when they make a mistake. If they’re smart, disciplined, and patient, the chances of them getting caught are slim.”
“So,” Reggie interjected. “We have to hope that Sampson or his spies make a mistake.”
“Actually,” said Nathan, “I believe he has already. Letting us know, even in a roundabout way, that he knew of our plans was a mistake. He shouldn’t have done that. We would have probably gone for a long time without suspecting anything if only he had been a little more subtle.”
“Subtlety is not in his nature,” said Anderson.
“But,” Nathan went on, “knowing we have a spy is the first step, we are still a long way from identifying him.”
Nathan could tell that Anderson was getting frustrated, but Reggie stepped in smoothly. “So, if you were in our shoes, what would you recommend?”
Nathan sat back and thought for a moment before going on. “Well, I would start by being careful about what is discussed at those meetings. Take it for granted from this point forward that whatever is talked about will get to Sampson. Next, I would start sensitizing people to the danger of loose lips. Use the radio, newspapers, fliers, anything. Tell them if they see anything suspicious to report it.”
“Report to whom?” asked Anderson.
“Well, that’s a good point,” answered Nathan. “You need someone, an organization actually, in charge of investigating such incidents and claims. It needs to be professionals who have recognized authority, but also skilled in investigative work. I know it’s not their area, but the State Police would probably be the best option for now. Espionage is a crime after all. They would have to start small with the basics and work toward a fully developed counterintelligence program. It will take time and it will take lots of hard work and patience on your part.”
“So, a few weeks of your help is not going to solve the problem?” asked Reggie.
“It might, but it’s unlikely. Even if by some miracle we catch this person, it wouldn’t fix the larger issues. You need a group of people doing this full time,” said Nathan. “What I would recommend is letting me go help train the State Police and then work with them as needed, and when I can.”
Reggie Philips and General Anderson looked at each other for a moment and then nodded.
Reggie turned back at Nathan, “That is a very good recommendation, thank you. I’ll put you in touch with the State Police Commander, Frank Simm, and we’ll get the ball rolling. You have already gone a long way towards putting my mind at ease.”
Anderson seemed to have another thought. “It occurs to me that Sampson probably knows a lot about what is going on in the JP, but we know nothing about what is going on in the WTR or along our other borders. You mentioned earlier that you were already thinking about developing our own spy network?”
“Well, that’s a little bit of a larger and slightly more complicated issue,” said Nathan. “I would recommend that we focus on protecting our own house first and then expand our activities later. But…with your permission, I would like to start tentatively running some reconnaissance patrols out of the LBL area and would recommend other commanders do the same along their borders.”
“You have our permission, and that’s a good recommendation we’ll pass to the other units,” said Anderson. “Just be careful in the south. We don’t want to set off this powder keg before we have to.”
Nathan thought for a moment and decided to ask. “I have an idea of what you want to do about the spy, but may I ask what you plan on doing about Sampson and his threats?”
“Well, we’re going to play nice for as long as we can, as best we can,” said Reggie.
“That will work for a time, but then what?” asked Nathan.
Anderson got a hard look on his face as he answered. “When we’re ready, we cut off all their electricity and there will be war.” He said this without any emotion and Nathan knew it wasn’t simply boasting, but reality. A graveyard atmosphere settled over the table and the talk ended awkwardly as the seriousness of the future set in.
The plates of food arrived, piled high with the savory pulled pork, with sides of cole slaw, and potatoes. The smell was wonderful and Nathan was sure it was just as delicious to taste. He started to eat and then thought of something.
“How do you think Sampson knew?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” asked Anderson.
“Well,” continued Nathan. “The border is pretty tightly controlled. It’s not like you can walk back and forth across unless we have holes in it.”
“No, we’ve made that a top priority and should be covered, especially now that you have the LBL bottled up,” said Anderson.
“Good. So our people aren’t regularly crossing to the south and they aren’t regularly crossing north,” said Nathan. “Mail doesn’t exactly run, so that’s out. That really only leave’s one obvious answer of how the information was passed to him.”
“And what’s that?” asked Reggie around a mouthful of barbeque.
“Phones,” answered Nathan with a smile. He saw their bemused looks and continued on. “We have wired and wireless phones and functioning cell phone towers because we have electricity. The WTR has electricity from us, so we must assume they also have phones. That…is how our guy is passing secrets.” Nathan smiled and took a bite of his sandwich.
“So how does that help?” asked Anderson.
“Easy,” said Nathan. “We pull all the phone records and see who is calling to the south and then cross reference that against people who might have reason to know council business. That should give you a manageable subject pool to begin investigating.”
Both men stopped eating and looked at him in amazement. Nathan laughed in spite of himself, “Well, I did do this for a living after all!”
Chapter 5 – Conquering Fate
Timothy “Brazen” Walker never believed in fate. He always thought each man made his own life by his own decisions. He lived that way and didn't question the purpose of it all…until recently.
Brazen sat near the back of the Freedom Baptist Church of Paducah. The church doors remained unlocked most times, but Brazen was the only person there at such an early hour. He never prayed anymore. People who knew him would probably be shocked by the idea of Brazen actually inside a church. Nevertheless, simply being here gave him some semblance of peace. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God, he believed in Him with all his heart; he simply did not believe in God’s forgiveness. At least not in his case.
Timothy Walker came from a broken home and was raised along with his little sister by a strict and religious grandmother. His mother was an infrequent and unreliable presence in their lives and the siblings never knew their father. Timothy grew up among numerous extended family, all of which made a living through various nefarious “trades” frowned upon by lawful society. Brazen’s friends were in gangs and most had been arrested at least once.
His grandmother, Noni had certainly tried, and at one point Brazen would have admitted she succeeded with him. She saw the dark path he was on growing up without a father figure, instinctively seeking that figure in all the wrong places. Noni convinced Pastor Lancourt of Freedom Baptist to try to mentor her grandson. It was a rocky road, and not one Brazen accepted willingly; but Noni could be very convincing. Brazen found himself smiling at the memories and dropped his head as they flooded through him.
Pastor Lancourt had been a hard man to figure out. He was tough and serious at the same time he was kind, sincere, and generous in all he did. In a world where manhood was defined by empty words and pompous displays of false courage, usually measured through illegitimate children and random acts of violence, Lancourt was something different. Brazen knew Lancourt had more stones than any gangbanger he ever met…and he knew why.
Lancourt firmly, and with all his heart, believed that God was with him at all times and in all circumstances. Brazen eventually came to believe it too and want
ed the same. Pastor Lancourt showed Brazen the true nature of courage and manhood. He came to believe that he made his own fate through God’s help and did not have to lead a life like those he saw around him.
Still in high school then, the teachers were shocked at the depth of Brazen’s intellect. Beneath a shell of rebellion and disinterest lay a mind that soaked up knowledge and demanded more. They said he was a prodigy and held him up as an example of how the school district "turned around" a troubled teen. Eventually that got him noticed by good universities very far away.
Truth was Brazen was an absolute whiz with mathematics and engineering. The day he received a full academic scholarship to the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in far off Cambridge, was one of Noni’s proudest. They all believed he had defied the odds and made it. That he had made his own fate.
The bright future was eclipsed by tragedy. During his senior year of college, he got the call from Noni. Brazen's little sister was dead, caught in the crossfire of rival gang activity two blocks from home. The target of the attack lived, despite suffering numerous gunshot wounds.
Noni was still strong, drawing strength from her faith, but to Brazen it all seemed like a bad dream. Pastor Lancourt took his hands on several occasions and talked about God’s will and why bad things happen to good people, but Brazen couldn’t hear any of it. None of it came home until the day he received the envelope that changed his life. If not for the envelope, he might have overcome his grief and gathered his dreams around him like a comforting cloak and found a life, but that was not to be.
The envelope came with little fanfare a few days after the funeral. The door buzzer rang, but by the time he got to the door no one was there, just a little kid running off down the street casting darting looks back over his shoulder at him as he ran. Brazen looked down at a large manila envelope with “Timmy” written on it. Inside was $10,000 in dirty bills in various denominations and a scrap of white paper with two words scrawled on it, “Sorry Bro”. Brazen let the money fall to the floor as he clutched the paper and stared at it in amazement.
