Fractured Nation

by Kurt Winans

  FRACTURED NATION

  Copyright © 2016, 2017 Kurt Winans

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work off fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Open Window

  an imprint of BHC Press

  Library of Congress Control Number:

  2016909956

  Print edition ISBN:

  978-1-946006-54-7

  Visit the author at:

  www.kurtwinans.com &

  www.bhcpress.com

  THE NEW WORLD

  Pilgrimage

  (Book One)

  Second Moon

  (Book Two)

  Evolution Shift

  (Book Three)

  TRAVEL BOOKS

  Left Side of the Road

  College Football’s American Road Trip

  Our American society and the government structure under which we reside receive my first thankful acknowledgement, as it would be foolish of me to not recognize how important both aspects were to the creation of this work. In terms of grand scale we live in a country on the global map that permits its citizens, under most circumstances, to voice their opinion and have open discussion about what we individually deem to be problems or challenges within our ranks. We as that society are not perfect, nor should we be so arrogant as to believe otherwise, but we are allowed to write books that may bring some of those imperfections into question without fear of repercussion such as being tortured or sent to the gallows for doing so.

  The countless members of our armed forces, both past and current, deserve recognition for their assistance as well. They continue to provide a blanket of security which helps to maintain our way of life, and I have the upmost respect for each and every one of those brave men and women that serve our nation. To that end, I owe a special thanks to a friend of mine. He has asked me to list him simply as Richard H., U.S. Army 1982-2006, Combat operations. Through many discussions, he helped me to properly list certain military terms such as equipment or weapon identification that I mention within the body of this work.

  Finally, I would like to thank my wife Cathy. As per the norm, she has stood by me during the entire pursuit of this most recent endeavor. Cathy showed patience during the sometimes frustrating moments, and joyful support during the many triumphant hours. I could not have done this without her.

  And now, it’s time to get on with the show.

  Kurt

  With a prime viewing position successfully staked out several hours before, the group of five men tightened their protective circle around little Savanah as the massive crowd pressed inward. Each of those six souls were now only minutes away from earning their reward for having braved the cold snowy night, and the ever mounting level of craziness that currently surrounded them.

  Glancing down at Savanah, a smart and inquisitive soon to be eight year old blonde, Samuel H. Tillman asked, “How are you doing sugar?”

  With bright green eyes and an infectious smile she looked up from under the brim of her new cowboy hat to reply, “I’m fine grandpa.”

  Then her father, Kyle Tillman, placed his hands on Savanah’s shoulders and asked, “Are you still warm enough honey?”

  “Yes daddy, but I can’t see anything with all these people around.”

  “Don’t worry about that Savanah. Your grandfather promised that you could sit on his shoulders to see the big event, and he never goes back on a promise.”

  A short time later, with the snowfall finally beginning to lighten up, Samuel pulled the burn phone from the right pocket of his heavy winter coat to check the time. It read eleven forty-eight, so he turned to the oldest of his five grandchildren, who had just days before celebrated his momentous twenty first birthday, and said, “It’s almost time Jason. Will you lift your sister up onto my shoulders please?”

  “Yes sir, just tell me when you’re ready.”

  Then Samuel looked at the two staff security personnel he had brought along from Texas and said, “We will do this in a simple box pattern around me while Savanah is up on my shoulders, and I want the two of you behind us. Kyle and Jason will cover the two forward positions.”

  A simple nod of comprehension from each man provided confirmation that Samuel’s directives would be adhered to. Then with a tip of his favorite well-worn cowboy hat he smiled down toward the youngest of his grandchildren.

  Savanah looked up at her hero and asked, “Is it almost time grandpa?”

  “Yes it is young lady, and if you will do me the honor, Jason will help you climb onto my shoulders so that you can see everything.”

  After an approving nod, she was lifted high into the air by her oldest brother, as Samuel flexed the knees of his six foot three inch frame a bit to receive her. Then Jason took his position as the forward left sentinel and braced to hold his ground. As if Mother Nature had then responded to a collective plea, the snow stopped falling just a few minutes before midnight and the final countdown began. Thousands of other citizens joined in with Savanah as she counted backwards from ten with enthusiasm, and then the illuminated ball dropped signifying that the Eastern Time zone of the United States had just begun the year of 2026.

  With confetti then swirling around her head and in the sky above, Savanah laughed joyously. After several minutes she reached down for the giant gloved hand that firmly grasped her right ankle and exclaimed, “You were right grandpa, this is really fun!”

  Samuel, a strong and still physically fit man of sixty-six, replied, “Well I’m glad that you like it sugar, and you can stay up there on my shoulders for as long as you like.”

  The massive crowd remained in a joyful feverish pitch as they celebrated the dawn of a new year, and wouldn’t begin to show noticeable signs of thinning for nearly another hour. During that time Savanah never stopped smiling, so her grandfather knew in his heart that he had done the right thing. She had now witnessed the Times Square New Year’s Eve event in New York City, and depending on what the future brought forth, it may have been her only opportunity to do so. While maintaining their protective box formation around Samuel and his granddaughter, the group slowly moved through the crowd toward the Premier Hotel on west 44th. Although it was only steps away from their staked out viewing position, the time had advanced to nearly one thirty before they stood in front of the lobby entrance. Once they had moved inside to the safety of that lobby, Jason lifted his sister from their grandfather’s shoulders and placed her gently on the ground with a smile and a high five.

  A moment later the elderly family nanny and cook, Ms. Holloway, moved toward them. She had been around the family long enough to have helped Samuel and Victoria raise their three sons, Kyle, Mason, and Chance, followed by each of the five grandchildren that had come along since. In recent times Ms. Holloway had taken extra care to ensure little Savanah’s safety, as she now understood that her own advancing age and declining health would prevent her from attending to the needs of the next Tillman generation. Having done a masterful job with her numerous duties throughout the decades, and exhibiting unwavering loyalty toward the Tillman family in the process, the insightful woman deserved and received the upmost respect from every member of that family and those who were employed by them.

  After wishing Savanah a happy new year, and then extending the same courtesy to her employer and the other four gentlemen, Ms. Holloway prepared to whisk Savanah aw
ay to the sanctity of their suite. Already socialized by her nanny in the graces of how a southern lady should behave when parting company, Savanah provided a verbal thank you to each of her five gentlemen escorts. Then she gave her grandfather, father, and oldest brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek before departing for a long blissful sleep.

  Seconds after watching the ladies enter the elevator, Samuel turned toward the members of his most loyal inner circle and said, “I would also like to thank each of you for helping to make this evening a reality for Savanah, and I believe that it’s time for the five of us to have a drink. We need to celebrate the undertaking of this New Year.”

  His eldest son Kyle, a man of forty one who mirrored his father’s height and physique, replied, “I think that’s a great idea sir.”

  Pulling a flask from the breast pocket of his coat, Samuel handed it to his grandson and said, “It would be foolish of me to believe that this will be your first drink of whisky Jason, but it’s the first opportunity that your father and I have had to share one with you since you reached the legal age.”

  Never wanting to be dishonest with his grandfather, Jason replied, “Thank you sir, and you are correct, this is not my first whisky. However, this whisky will have more significant meaning for me than any that I have had in the past. I have looked forward to sharing a drink with you and dad for a long time, and now here we are. What should we drink to?”

  “That’s a good question Jason. Perhaps we should all contribute a thought to that as you pass my flask around the circle. Don’t be shy gentlemen, if you want to drink to something specific, please feel free to speak your mind.”

  As the flask reached the conclusion of the second rotation, Samuel passed it once again to his grandson. Then he said, “You can finish the last of that Jason, but only if you can provide one final toast.”

  Reaching for the flask Jason replied, “That seems fair enough sir. I suggest that we toast to the success of the overall plan.”

  The intent was well received by his four companions, as they collectively agreed that the goal to which he spoke was of paramount importance. Now approaching two o’clock in the morning on the east coast, Samuel pulled the burn phone from his coat pocket again and dialed one of the few numbers that it contained. Speaking softly he said, “This is number two. I’m in the apple with a few of the other players and Savanah, but I plan to be home in less than a week. I hope that when the dawn of the year we have all been waiting for reached you, a festive celebration began at your location. Now we can all commence with our own lengthy countdown towards a brighter future. Are you and the members of your team still on schedule, and fully prepared to move forward?”

  After enjoying the majority of his winter break for the holidays with the entire family in Texas, and then the final few days of the time off in Manhattan with a lesser portion of them, Jason returned to the rigors of his present calling. On Saturday January third 2026 he bid a temporary farewell to Savanah, and her escorting entourage, while they all stood on the departure curb at La Guardia airport. Then having seen them all move inside to begin the tedious process for their commercial flight to Dallas Texas, and Samuel’s separate flight to Denver Colorado, Jason climbed into a taxi that had just unloaded a few other holiday travelers.

  As with previous journeys the taxi ride was slow but adventurous, so Jason was relieved to not be at the wheel. When the taxi eventually did make its way through the frustrating level of traffic back into central Manhattan, the driver dropped his faceless fare off at the directed location of Grand Central Terminal. With advance ticket already in hand due to the courtesy of his grandfather, Jason surveyed the massive departure screen to learn of the appropriate boarding platform. His train bound for the United States Military Academy at West Point and points beyond would depart in less than an hour, so he made a visit to the gift shop and picked up some snacks for the journey. What he didn’t realize as he subsequently made his way toward the boarding platform was that he had been singled out as a vulnerable target.

  While standing in patient solitude on the platform before it was time to board, Jason studied the movements and habits of others who were destined to ride on the same train with him to various stops along the line. Then his reactive speed was suddenly put to the test, as he heard a thunderous voice from behind him. In what had become an instinctive habit of extreme socialization, or academy brainwashing as some would refer to it, Jason snapped to attention when an unfamiliar voice inquired, “Cadet, what do you have in your hand?”

  Within an instant of snapping to, Jason replied with the compulsory “Sir”, followed by the explanation of, “Just some food for the train ride sir.” Then he waited for identification and instruction from the mystery voice. As neither came his way throughout an extended pause, he realized that there had been a definitive break in a well-established and time honored protocol. Jason began to wonder what was happening, but the question, and his posture, was then put to ease when a local New Yorker came into view from behind with a playful smile on his face.

  Jason believed that the overweight, unshaven, and sloppily dressed man appearing to be in his mid-forties could not have been affiliated with the military in any way. That suspicion was instantly verified when he heard, “Sorry about that buddy, but it’s just too easy with you cadets. My name is Nick Spano, and I’m from Highland Falls. I have been pulling that particular gag, and several others, on West Point cadets whenever the opportunity presents itself for about twenty years now. I still remember the first kid in your current position. He was in his plebe year, and his voice had the drawl of somewhere in the south. I’ll never forget his name either as it was quite bizarre, I mean who names their son Chance? Well anyway, most of the time when I pull this gag the result has been just like his and yours. You all blindly snap to attention without even knowing the reason why you are doing it.”

  Thinking inwardly that while the antics of Mr. Spano were just one more example of why there had been a need to initiate the overall plan, they also didn’t warrant an extreme reaction such as a martial arts takedown at the present time. With that in mind Jason’s response to the man’s statement began somewhat measured and jovial, but he was prepared to alter that approach if need be. He didn’t want to provide the civilian with any level of respect for his lack of ingenuity, or to further enable his quirky habit by referring to him as sir. With a now fully relaxed posture, Jason replied, “It’s alright Mr. Spano, but the gag is a bit overdone don’t you think? I mean, you don’t actually believe that you are the only person to use that trick on cadets throughout the past twenty years, do you?”

  Having been somewhat taken aback by the candid response of the cadet, Nick Spano began a reply of, “Well I…”

  Jason didn’t give him the opportunity to advance any further and verbally cut him off at the knees. With a slightly escalated tone he snapped, “Save it mister, your explanation would be meaningless to me! As for cadets coming to attention without knowing the reason why, you’re incorrect. We all come to attention as a show of respect for those who have earned it. You can rest assured however, that you would have never received such a response from me if you had approached from where I could have seen you as opposed to creeping up on my blind side.”

  With that the smile went away from the intrusive man’s face, and he replied, “Well, look what we have here. That’s the first time that I can remember any cadet defiantly talking back to me and being tough minded enough to defend their actions. You must think that you are something special kid.”

  “No Mr. Spano, I don’t think that I’m special. I will however stand up for my actions and those of other cadets without reservation. I doubt that you have the slightest idea of what is required of a cadet at the academy, or anywhere else for that matter, on a daily basis. From the looks of you Mr. Spano, you couldn’t survive a single day within the confines of our rigorous schedule either physically or mentally. Now you certainly don’t have to respect me, but it could be foolish on your pa
rt to disrespect me!”

  Feeling rather insulted, the man instinctively tensed his right arm to strike. Then he glanced around to see that several other civilians had taken an interest in the escalating discussion. Sensing that this was not the proper time or place for a physical altercation, he relaxed his arm and said “That sounded like a threat you little punk, and when we meet again, I will take great joy in pummeling you as we discuss it.”

  Then the man moved further on down the platform, and Jason retreated a few paces in the opposite direction to create additional distance between them. Even with that, he kept an eye on the actions of Mr. Spano out of fear for any repercussion that might result from their candid exchange.

  Having witnessed the entire event, and sensing the tension that lingered, another West Point cadet who had followed the civilian at a safe distance onto the platform then moved toward Jason. Speaking softly he said, “Don’t worry about that guy; he did the same thing to me a few minutes ago under the big departure screen.”

  Glancing to his right Jason saw the uniform of a fellow cadet and replied, “I’m sorry to hear that. People like that man have no respect for those in the military, or what we as cadets have to endure on a daily basis. He should be put in his place by someone who has more authority than me.”

  “I agree with your assessment, but it’s doubtful that will ever happen.”

  Now paying less attention to the heavyset man further down the platform, and more upon his fellow cadet, Jason noticed that he wore both the first class insignia of a senior cadet and the five bar “railroad tracks” on his collar of a Battalion Commander. The cadet was one of the highest ranking members of the corps, so after snapping to attention once again, Jason said, “Sorry sir, I didn’t realize…”