The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  Alex snapped his finger. "Blood Diamond! I like that movie! T.I.A. This. Is. Africa," he said quoting DiCaprio's character in the movie; though his South African accent was pale in comparison.

  "Sodium Fluoride in tap water, Hep shots for babies, nicotine, high fructose corn syrup, pick a topic and I can tell how it is controlled, manipulated, and profited from. Corporations own governments, and I should know, as we indirectly own four. You hate me because of what I have done. Fine. But there's a difference between me and the Dada, Gaddafi, and Stalin’s of the world-"

  "Oh ya? What's that?"

  "I don't care if you are Jewish, Muslim, black, white, Asian, Mexican, blonde, brunette, short, tall, fat, skinny, drug-addicted, or sexually twisted. I'll kill you and save you all the same.”

  Shanna couldn’t hold back. “Says the sociopath!”

  “Let me ask you, all of you for that matter...what would you have said once this world was polluted beyond repair, animals extinct, natural resources used up, overpopulation, lands ravaged by war? When there was nothing left because everyone took everything. Hate me,” Albert snorted, “you should be thanking me that I created something that will save humanity from itself.”

  “Easy to say if you’re the one in control."

  “Should we say thank you?”

  "Hey, I got a question.”

  “Alex, now’s not the time for jokes.”

  “No, West, this time it’s serious. I promise.”

  “Fine, let’s hear it.”

  “You mentioned activating Ambrosia, how does that work?"

  West looked pleasantly surprised. “Good question. How do you control these nanobots on an individual basis?”

  Once again, all eyes fell on Albert Stone.

  "No, I think not,” he declared insouciantly. “I told you the what, you figured out the why. That will be enough for now. The how will come later."

  Despite violent threats and multiple slaps, Albert maintained resolute silence. “Now I am tired, and as uncomfortable as I am, I would like to sleep. Though, come to think of it, a pre-nap cocktail would not be unwelcome. Vodka and lemon, mint leaf if you have one...”

  When no further secrets were to be disclosed, the small crowd withdrew.

  "Sergeant Major, I am to assume I won't be getting my in-flight libation?"

  "I would, but alcohol can lead to liver disease."

  Albert returned the sarcastic smile. "Now you're getting it.”

  1602 hours

  In the last row of seats, Shanna woke from a vivid nightmare. Rather than try her luck on another dream, she went to check on the injured. Both Eddy and Dylan were sleeping peacefully and seemingly without pain.

  “How’re they doing?” West asked, sliding the bathroom door shut behind him.

  "Alright, as far as I can tell. Dylan took the painkillers that I gave him earlier. Him, I think his name’s Eddy, he’s been self-medicating since he got on board. And apparently, both got into a few of those mini alcohol bottles," Shanna replied, picking up the empty Sky vodka and Bacardi rum bottles.

  “Mixing depressants and hooch, not exactly a doctor’s recommendation.”

  “Hey, that’s not on me! They must have gotten one of the Marines to sneak them the booze!”

  “I’m just giving you a hard time,” West said, leaving the snoring giants to follow Shanna around the partition to the trash receptacle.

  “That always was one of your specialties.”

  "Shanna,” West said in a way that made the moment awkward. “I want to thank you. For believing in me last year. For warning me about the raid. If you didn’t do what you did, I'd be dead right now."

  "I think we’re even,” she said, turning to face him. “If it weren’t for youI'd be dead right now. Or back in the cell, with that piece of shit Daytona."

  Shanna shivered, remembering the torture and rape- exactly what awoke her minutes before.

  "There’s more,” West continued, “I want to apologize for involving you. For everything that happened to you. I'm so sorry, Shanna. You didn’t deserve any of this…"

  He put a hand on her face, but she withdrew quickly. The physical violations imposed on by Daytona were all too recent and all too scarring, and West realized it.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said, putting her hand over his. She smiled when the warmth of his palm met her skin.

  “I swear to God I would kill him another fifty times if I could. What he did to you, it-”

  “It happened, and now it's over," she said, hugging him tightly.

  West walked her back to their seats, passing by Flenderson and Mason. The Scottish cousins had their heads awkwardly resting on one another. Their snoring was opposing but in sync and somehow the symphony did not wake them.

  Shanna took a sip of water then handed the canteen to West. "So what's the plan?"

  "We are going to capture Liz Baron. Once Albert gives us the location of their headquarters, we will infiltrate and-"

  "We? You mean the military?"

  "No, I mean me, us," he clarified, looking around at the Marines and willing participants. "Albert will give us the inside intel we need, and then we attack."

  Shanna frowned. "Why does it have to be you? Why not just let the government?"

  "You know the government. They’ll be too slow, and Liz might get away. Besides, I have to be part of it."

  “You always have to be part of it,” she grumbled. “That's what you said when you reenlisted. When you joined Delta, and when you re-upped how many times after that? Jesus, Craig, can't you for once not be the hero?"

  She read the answer on his face then turned away from him and used her sweatshirt as a pillow.

  “Shanna-”

  “Forget it. I’m tired. I need to sleep.”

  Upset himself, West stomped to the cockpit only to confront another problem.

  "Finally someone heard me. I’ve only been calling back for the last minute. I was about to get on the overhead speakers.”

  “Good thing you didn’t. You’d have upset a lot of sleeping Marines. What do you want?”

  “For starters, can I get a cup of coffee? I'm falling asleep."

  "In a minute. Where are we?"

  "The system’s GPS can’t update our position, so I’ve been going off maps and the flight path I plotted. Looks like we are crossing the Pennsylvania border into New York. You see that spec in the distance?” he said, pointing out the windshield. “That’s Air Force Two. We just got within range ten minutes ago. That’s what I was calling back about.”

  “You weren’t supposed to catch up, Jones. You were supposed to land outside Ithaca so we could try the munitions depots Ringo suggested.”

  “I didn’t mean to! I thought between the stopover to pick up Steve and our alternate flight path, we would be nowhere near Air Force Two. I didn’t expect them to be flying so slow, or us to get a generous tailwind, but we did, and they pinged us and-”

  “Hey guys,” Steve interrupted, stretching his legs in the space between the cockpit and the main cabin. “A few of the others were asking how much longer we have?”

  “Hold on, Steve. Go ahead, Jones, finish. And what?”

  "And we have a decision to make.” Jones twisted a knob to mute the radio transmissions and continued. “Air Force Two informed me they will be landing at Clayton Field National Guard training base outside Syracuse, and they expect us to do the same. Based on our current pace we will be arriving in less than an hour. So what do you want to do, West? I still vote that we land with the government. I know the Chief of Staff said he was going to hold off a counteroffensive until he talked with the others, but still, maybe you can ask him again? Military strategy is your forte, and no disrespect, but I don’t think twenty people will cut it."

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I’m not gonna wait to find out. I won’t leave this to politics.”

  "Politics are everywhere.”

  “Maybe Jones is ri
ght? I know it seems like the safe play, but it might be a wiser one?”

  “Yes, Steve, I agree it is risky, but Liz Baron needs to be taken down immediately. Do you know how long it takes the government to move?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact I do know how slow the government moves,” Jones declared with a sourness. “But when it comes to wars, I believe the United States is quickest. Besides, you're forgetting the big picture. The military has trained soldiers. Weapons. Everything you need. You can't really expect to take on Liz Baron with a handful of Marines, one and a half Canadians and a few civilians do you? No offense, but you’re not exactly in fighting shape either.”

  West’s cheek muscles bulged. He grabbed at his cast and said, "I can and do."

  "Fine, but let me ask you, on top of everything, you just got your girl back and now you want to go back to war? To be involved in something that doesn'tneed you?"

  Maybe Jones has a point? Maybe you don't have to be a part of it? The attack could go on without you, right? Like Shanna said, you could be done if you wanted to, Chucky.

  ***

  Jones adjusted the autopilot to avoid turbulent air at their current altitude.

  "Look, I know I'm a dick,” he continued, caring not to look back at the faces who agreed, “but like I've said all along, I know good investments and I know bad ones. And this is coming from a guy who knows how brutal retrospect can be…Look, I’ve never told anyone this and if you tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, I’ll deny it ‘til I die.”

  “Say what you’re gonna say.”

  Jones licked his lips in uncertainty then continued, “Before I became the billionaire I am today, I could have been someone completely different…”

  Jones reached deep into his pocket and pulled out an old photograph of a plain-looking, average-figured woman smiling as she sat on the edge of a park fountain.

  “Her name was Carrie. She was beautiful, smart, everyone loved her and I was in love with her and for whatever reason, shewanted to be with an early onset balding, slightly overweight nerd. She was the free spirit, adventurous type who wanted to go travel the world, and she asked me to travel the world with her. But in the early nineties I had a chance to be part of this real-estate investment; it was going to make me rich. I told Carrie to wait and we'd go soon.”

  “Let me guess, she took off?”

  “No, notthat sob story,” Jones corrected. “Anyway, Carrie stuck around until I made my first million later that year. Then she asked me to go again, said ‘the south of France is beautiful this time of year. Come with me, Harry’ but I had just made my first million and I craved a second. So I told her to go and that I'd meet up with her a few days in. She was so excited she bought a ticket that night. But be careful what you wish for they say. Right after she left, I struck gold. Thanks to my genius moves, my business boomed literally overnight. I couldn’t go. I was making all the right plays. So I pushed back my flight. Phoned Carrie and told her it would be later in the week, then the next and the next…”

  Jones paused there, saddened and unable to meet their eyes.

  “The last straw was Paris over New Years. ‘Meet me there, Harry, it’ll be wonderful!’ she said. I can still hear the last bit of hope in her voice but...but I never ended up going. Canceled my flight for a multimillion dollar meeting in Tahiti. I stood up the girl of my dreams for money. Idiot. Like I said at the beginning, hindsight’s a bitch. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve traveled the world so many times I stopped keeping track. I’ve done everything I’ve wanted, got everything I wanted. Everything except the one thing I really wanted."

  "Carrie,” West mumbled.

  "Yes."

  "Did you ever track her down?" asked Steve.

  "Are you kidding me?" The snobbishness in Jones’ voice returned momentarily. "Of course I tracked her down. There wasn't anything I couldn't buy."

  "And?"

  "She was living in Marseille."

  “And?”

  "She was with someone else, not married, butwith him. So I flew out there and ‘randomly’ bumped into her when her boyfriend was away for the weekend visiting family in the country. We caught up over dinner and the three next days. I did everything to get her to leave the guy and be with me. Showered her with clothes and jewelry. Invited her on day trips, out on my yacht, to dinner...but nothing worked. Finally, I went to her house one night unannounced. I asked her why not? Why not live the life of luxury? The life we said we had always planned on living together? You know what she said to me?"

  Neither West nor Steve shook their head.

  "Worse than me putting off the Europe trip five years before; worse than me being in love with money. It was me. She told me that I missed my chance. That I invested in the wrong thing."

  Steve thought about it, and for the first time in a long while, he wasn't angry at Sarah’s untimely and unfair death.Jones is right. You had your chance with Sarah. You made the most of it and you made the moments count. From the days in the garden at the Eye, to the walks on the beach in Providence and everything in between. It wasn’t as long as you hoped, but it was beautiful.

  "So what is this grumpy, racist asshole trying to tell you? Don't miss your chance. Yours truly only got one, seems like you got yourself a second, West. Do yourself a favor and let someone else fight the war."

  Steve watched as West stared into the horizon, expressionless face remaining neutral.

  Steve’s wish for something to break the awkward silence was unexpectedly granted in the form of a landmark. He squinted his eyes as he peered out in the distance.

  "Lake Moronby? No way! That means we are just over Greene National Park. We used to go hunting there. I have to show Alex!"

  ***

  "Anyway, just my two cents,” Jones said, resuming controls. “So what do you want me to do?"

  The wisdom is sound, Chucky, but you’re so close to finishing the mission. So close to stopping the people responsible...

  West glanced back at Shanna and the internal debate continued.

  I know how grateful you are to have her back safe, but is she safe? Is the rest of the world really safe if we don’t stop Liz? It’s risky, but we have Albert and we can do this...But Shanna’s back, doesn't that mean something?

  "I haven't decided,” West finally replied. “Stay on course, and I’ll let you know."

  As West walked to the back, Case scratched his groin and said, "I'm glad we finally have someone with a military background in charge.”

  "I’ll be in charge, yes, but it’s not like the military. I will look for others' input."

  Case laughed. "Not you. Go on, tell him Staff Sergeant.”

  Reclined, eyes closed, and by all appearances asleep, Fikejs answered, “Case was talking about the government. The new President."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Presidential succession. Tufase is gone, so is the VP. Then comes the-"

  "Speaker of the House, President pro-tempore of the Senate, Secretary of State,” West said, running through the list as quickly as reciting his own name. "I know, but what are you getting at?"

  "Well, last we heard, the Speaker and Pres. Pro-temp didn't make it out of the initial outbreak. Earlier in the year, the Secretary of State was traveling to our bunker, but no one has heard from her since her convoy got attacked. And the Secretary of the Treasury was presumed dead. But we hear the Secretary of Defense is still alive and kickin’ ass."

  "So next up is Norman Chiller,” concluded Mack.

  “Hey, he was a Navy douche, right? I guess that's better than Air Force," joked Mason.

  Secretary of Defense?West thought.Why does that sound important? Where do I remember him from?

  West’s mind flashed through a chronological history.

  It came to the desired memory the exact moment as Shanna sprung up, panicked.

  "Norman Chiller? The Secretary of Defense?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No! Norman Chiller is working with the LIFE Corp
oration! I heard Daytona and the others talking about it!”

  "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

  "What's going on?" Travis asked, waking.

  "Between Blue Springs and being held hostage...it must have slipped my mind, but I remember it now! I don't know how, but Norman Chiller is involved!"

  "She's right. The Secretary of Defense was at the meeting in New York," added West.

  "The one with Daytona? When you and the other spec ops vets got recruited?"

  “Yes, the same one, Travis.”

  "Ask Albert!" Shanna suggested. "If anyone would know, he would! He’ll confirm it."

  "Ask me what?" Albert mumbled, not happy to be awoken.

  "That the Secretary of Defense is most likely in charge now-"

  "He is working for you isn't he!" Shanna yelled, interrupting West.

  Then came a whirlwind of accusations and pointed fingers from protesting Marines.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “There’s no way Chiller’s bad.”

  “He’s a straight edge military boy.”

  With everyone arguing and shouting, it made it difficult for West to concentrate. Despite the volume and commotion, something caught West’s eye. It was Albert mumbling to himself. West was unable to hear the words, but he read the prisoner’s lips.

  "Norman? In charge? Already? That could only mean one thing...Mother knows we are coming."

  West's concentration was broken as Jones screamed over the speakers. "West, I need you up here! Now!"

  ***

  Excited, Steve hurried past the talkative Marines and settled down in the back. His nose pressed against the window as he realigned himself with the familiar terrain. "Got you," he mumbled, finding the hunting lodge of his youth.

  It was the first time he had seen the National Park from this vantage point. Normally he was in the forest looking up. So, using his memory and a rough form of dead reckoning, he located Beggar’s Mountain.

  No way! Home’s on the other side, just twenty miles north! Crazy!