Fury (End Times Alaska Book 4)

by Craig Martelle

  “Now get going, you crazy kids! I have calls to make and it’s still early enough that I won’t be interrupting anyone’s dinner.” They waved on their way out.

  “Holy crap, Floyd! If I had a weak heart, I’d be dead right now.” He rolled his eyes at me as he fought to stay awake. “We could all take a lesson from you.” I scratched behind his ears as he took the opportunity to adjust and settle in for his first nap of the morning.

  * * *

  It was late morning before Aeryn returned, triumphantly holding the satellite phone in front of her. Tanya had had it, but she wasn’t home so Aeryn found Shane at the power plant to give her a better idea where Tanya might be. She wasn’t in any of the places that Shane recommended. Aeryn finally found her at the community center, where she knew she should have checked first, but she had trusted Shane.

  The phone. It had been a while, but I remembered the number well and dialed it.

  “Frank here,” my friend answered.

  I skipped all formalities. “Frank! Coming to you live from the sunny top of the world. You know that I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t need a favor.”

  “Of course, I know that. Hey, I’m really sorry to hear about Madison. I wish I would have found out earlier. I would have made a trip up there, just for you, my friend. You’ve made us rich and for that, I can’t thank you enough. We’ve been able to weather this financial crisis and then some. I think you’d be proud of us, Chuck. We helped our entire neighborhood to both eat and keep their homes,” Frank said, but he wasn’t bragging. I could hear the pride in his voice.

  “I would expect no less, Frank and I didn’t make you rich, you did. You deserve everything you get because I can’t pay you for what I need, that’s why I couched it cleverly as a favor. I need names and numbers for trade ministers in Japan, China, Taiwan, Russia, the Philippines, even Australia. We are hurting and we need a trade partner. The U.S. has failed me for the last time. You know, we don’t have an open road or rail and the runway is trashed. We can’t land any more planes. We are completely cut off from the rest of the world. I need to open the road. I need to get the rail cleared. We need to establish Valdez as a port that works for transshipment, because we need to be able to petition the UN for status as an independent nation. That’s right, I’m cutting ties with the U.S. and I need your help to do it, Frank.”

  There was a long silence. I looked at the phone to make sure we were still connected.

  “I can do that, Chuck. Things aren’t good down here, but you know what? They are better than they were last week and the week before that. We might be crawling out of our hole. I’m telling you, this administration has no clue. It’s like living in Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. The only ones producing are getting taxed to the hilt, but I think they’ve worked a deal with the government for a tax reprieve or something once the markets started churning again. And then they’ll find out that their lack of support for you cost them a resource-rich state,” Frank replied. He didn’t seem put out at all.

  Frank wasn’t a fan of the current administration which was a continuation of the previous one. He couldn’t fathom how these people kept getting elected. They’d driven the country further and further into discord, but they controlled the media and the message. The people followed along because they didn’t know any better. Behind closed doors, his opinion was that the country got what it deserved.

  “Hey honey,” I heard my friend calling to his wife. “What do you think about moving to Alaska? Valdez on the coast. I hear there are a lot of jobs that are going to open up there and the weather is fairly temperate.”

  “Fairly?” I heard her yell from somewhere in the distance.

  “I’m on board, Chuck, all the way. Let’s do this. I think it may be time to let the kids maintain our home here while we go help out in Valdez. We have some money left and investing in the nation state of Alaska might be the best thing we can do with it.”

  Frank kept me on the line as he searched the net for the numbers. I waited while he called various dignitary telephones and verified that they worked and real people would answer. When Frank finally hung up, I felt relieved. I had a short list of people and phone numbers to get their secretaries and get on their schedule for a conversation. I also had the number for the UN. I wanted to update them as a predecessor to my declaration of independence.

  A declaration of independence! That would have to be something to memorialize. One massive page, handwritten for highest impact, signed by the leaders of the Community. I took out my notebook and started to write.

  “When abandoned by our mother country and left alone to fight an invading army, to survive by our own force of will, we endured, and now we must stand tall and say no more! From this point forth, we demand our right of self-determination, our liberty and prosperity will be in our own hands and our hands alone. We quote a section of the United States’ Declaration of Independence,

  “That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.”

  “As of this moment, we reject the protectorate status that has given us no safe haven, no respite, no freedom. We may still be alone, but we stand proud to declare our sovereignty and loyalty to the great nation of Alaska, and to Alaska alone. We are the new Guards and we will provide for our own security.”

  I put the pen down. I had copies of the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and Black’s Law Dictionary on my phone, just because. I looked at the small device and reveled in the information that we had at our fingertips. I didn’t have the internet or the ability to use it as a phone, but it was my stalwart computer over all the years. Whenever the BioLite was running, we charged the phone, because I always like to play music.

  I thumbed through my twenty gigs of iTunes music and found Billy Idol so I could rock the Cradle of Love.

  Grandpa loved rock and roll. My lip sneered of its own accord. I knew that I better not do that in front of Aeryn or I might just get my ass kicked. I tried to think back over the past year, but I couldn’t remember anything. I couldn’t see the clues that my children had become adults without me. It was the year of loss and the year of darkness.

  I refused to miss out on one more moment. The year of light was now underway and we’d show my children a better future. I moved slowly to the dining room table, surrendering the couch in its entirety to Floyd, who was able to spread out fully along its length. At the table, I started sorting papers and making new lists. I needed an office for the organization. After all, I was the governor.

  The phone was there and still held half a charge. Appointments. I had to set up appointments. I hand-drew a calendar and thanks to my smartphone, I knew what day it was. The music cycled to the next Billy Idol song I had, White Wedding. I swiped my way to a playlist that I called 80s Babes. Berlin’s Masquerade rocked from the small speakers. The Metro played next and it put me right where I needed to be.

  I dialed the long series of numbers that international calls required and waited, happy to hear the voice on the other end. “Moshi, moshi,” a young lady’s voice said happily, offering me the Japanese version of a courteous hello.

  “Hello, I’m Governor Chuck Nagy from Alaska and I would like t
o talk to the minister about opening up direct trade between Japan and the free nation of Alaska, tariff-free trade,” I said simply, expecting that the person who answered the phone spoke English because the Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry dealt with as many foreigners as they did with their own citizens. She deftly passed me to one of the minister’s aides.

  He answered kindly enough, but was clearly skeptical. I needed to let him know that we were serious. “Sumitomo Corporation had a rather large stake in gold mining here. Would you like to get that access back? And that’s not a threat. You have investments, but right now, our infrastructure is suffering. The cost of access is simply your help in opening the road and bringing back power. We will have to tax raw materials as they are moved out of the country, but ten percent is all we’re asking, and we can negotiate that based on the amount of support it takes to open the road and bring the power plant back on line. There’s much more. Right now, all we have is natural resources. How about Alaskan salmon? We haven’t commercially fished for over a decade. I expect the population needs to be culled. What do you say to talking about some access agreements?”

  The man on the other end of the phone hemmed and hawed. He was clearly not comfortable with something so out of the ordinary, so I asked to talk with his boss. He bristled at that notion, then I suggested that I’d call the CEO of Sumitomo and ask him why METI was dragging their feet and not helping Sumitomo to protect their investment. I didn’t like strong-arming the man like that, but I didn’t have time to waste and let the conversations drag out for extended periods of time. Maybe this young man wanted to improve his position within the government and was angling that way, or maybe he thought I was a nutjob.

  I was the governor of a new nation, and if I had to browbeat someone to get access to the people I needed to talk to, then so be it. I decided that I would call Sumitomo and talk with the CEO about what it would take for them to get back into their gold mine.

  Finally the man transferred me to the Deputy Minister. After I delivered my short speech, he was much more interested and even made counterpoints to my proposal, which meant that he recognized the value of what I was offering and was actively pursuing the agreement. I copied down his information and made notes of what we’d both said. When he hung up, I tweaked my notes and then dialed the next number on my list, which, thanks to Frank’s thoroughness, was the CEO of Sumitomo Corporation.

  The person who answered was the CEO’s executive secretary and understood the importance of my proposal. He put me on hold, and within three minutes I was talking through an interpreter with the CEO himself. I recounted my conversation with METI and also made sure he was clear on my commitment to honor certain previous contracts, to the mutual benefit of all.

  Their mines outside Delta Junction had been abandoned following the attack. Everything should be still in place, although all the equipment would have to be refurbished, upgraded, or replaced. The CEO discussed the impact of the world’s depression on the gold business. When currency suffered, gold was a safe haven. He wanted access as soon as he could possibly get it. He figured with a concerted effort the mine could be up and running in two months. He would buy a fleet of ships to move everything he needed to move, to include relocating equipment currently in the lower forty-eight.

  I thought that I had time and wanted to get competition in order to improve our offer, but if we could start rebuilding infrastructure before winter set in, then I was willing to cement a deal. I asked for his assistance with METI and he laughed. The Minister was a classmate of his from Harvard Business School. He said that he’d take care of it.

  I knew that I would lose any credibility with the man I’d talked to at the ministry, but I felt that Sumitomo had more right to act than anyone else. They’d invested heavily in Alaska. Their investment was alive and well. All they had to do was get there. All we had to do was be standing on the shore to welcome them and firm up the details of our engagement. We’d have to put a liaison with them and their people.

  So many details.

  I knew that I had to talk with the Council and bring them on board, which meant that I needed to go see them. I packed my papers, notes, and satellite phone into my backpack and hobbled outside. Floyd disappeared into the yard, thinking he was on his second walk of the day. I got my bike out and found that a lock had been put on it. I wondered which of my kids guessed that I’d try to go out. The truck was there, though and they’d left the keys. I climbed in and then called to Floyd who stepped on my bandage on his way to the passenger seat.

  Without a pain pill, I was barely tolerating the throbbing. After Floyd stepped on me, waves of pain washed through my whole body. It hurt too much to go back in the house for a pill, so I was stuck. I rolled the window down and turned the key. Nothing, not even the clicks of a mostly dead battery. I hadn’t thought that I’d left the lights on. I stumbled out and opened the hood. Someone had taken the battery. One or both of the twins were probably having a good laugh as they stymied me every step of the way on my attempts to escape home confinement.

  My next step was to get out my old shopping tools and use my bolt cutter to remove the lock. I was prepared to find my tools missing and was not disappointed. What the twins failed to foresee was my willingness to use a hacksaw to cut through the lock. I went through three blades before the chain gave way and dropped on the ground. At least they hadn’t flattened the tires and taken the tire pump. That would probably be next time.

  I hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. I really didn’t like getting shot with an arrow in the first place. As long as the twins could keep their friends under control, then I’d be fine. Friends. Yes, that’s what I’d call them.

  Floyd had been running around, playing with the sled dogs in their kennel when I called to him. He joined me, tongue lolling. I took the time to pet his head and scratch behind his ears. He’d been stalwart through it all, kept me company during the dark time. I owed him, and I owed my kids. There wasn’t a great deal within my control, not anymore. There were too many moving parts.

  Grandpa.

  I shook my head and laughed as I pedaled out. The pain in my leg let me know that it disagreed with my current course of action. I rode anyway, trying to enjoy the wind whipping past my ears while Floyd jogged alongside, just happy to be alive.

  When I reached the community center, my leg was protesting mightily and it had started bleeding again. I went next door to the clinic, prepared for my well-deserved verbal beating, but arrived to see old friends who were distraught.

  The pain in my leg evaporated as I rushed to Jo and Emma, hugging them both to me as they cried. I didn’t know what exactly was wrong, but it had to be Tony. He was a precocious ten-year-old, the heartiest of us all who’d had the hardest journey. I would never forget the day of his birth. We’d lost the Hot Springs and started our run from Alaska. He rode a dog sled some four hundred miles during an Alaskan winter in his first month. He not only survived, he’d grown well and would be a hard-working young man. His mothers would have it no other way.

  “Tony fell and he was impaled,” Jo sobbed. He was in with Colleen and she had the door closed. It wasn’t my time to talk. I stood there and held my two friends while we waited.

  Chris arrived, breathing heavily. He’d probably run from wherever he was to get there. Although Tony was technically his son, he didn’t act that way. Tony was the son of his two good friends, people who had made the Community what it was in the early days of Chena Hot Springs. He hugged both Jo and Emma and we all sat down to wait. After an hour, I asked Christ to join me outside for a smoke. Of course, neither one of us smoked, but that was our running joke. Smoke breaks were important for a healthy lifestyle as long as one took the break, but didn’t partake of the cigarettes.

  “I think it’s time to cut ties,” I said. Chris looked at me with an odd expression. He pointed to himself. “No! Not with each other, for Pete’s sake, but with the
U.S. We need to free ourselves from the yoke of the big green machine. We need to declare our independence and find our own trading partners, someone who isn’t going to leave us hanging. This is twice now and we cannot allow a third…”

  Chris nodded. He was a big man, standing both taller and wider than me. His presence commanded respect, but he never used his size to intimidate people. He used his words to convince people of his position and show them what better looked like by his own example. He leaned down so he could look me straight in the eye. “I’ve been hoping for this moment for the past two years, Chuck. They abandoned us. I thought once was bad enough, but we didn’t quite get a choice on whether to take them back or not. It was them or Russia and there’s no way we could have sided with the government that killed half a million Alaskans. So what are you thinking?”

  I pulled the papers out of my backpack and ran through my conversations with the Japanese. I mentioned how Frank was willing to come to Alaska to help us run the port of Valdez and get that community up to speed as the commerce hub of our fledgling nation. Chris looked at me with a blank expression on his face.

  “This is way over my head, Chuck. I’m just a small-town boy who thinks small-town thoughts,” he said.

  “You are anything but that, Chris. I need your help to sell the rest of the Council,” I pleaded.

  “You won’t have any problem with them. It is really good to have you back, Chuck. Did I say that already? Well, there, I said it again. By the way, what was I seeing with you and Terri holding hands? Is there anything going on that I should know about?” I looked at the ground, unsure of what to say and decided to say nothing. I was uncomfortable, embarrassed, and felt like I’d done something wrong. “Sorry, Chuck. I know how you feel, but life goes on. Madison would probably let you have both barrels if she knew the blue funk you’d been in. I know she liked Terri.”