Fractured Nation

by Kurt Winans

  “Relax cadet. We haven’t reported back to duty at the academy yet, so let’s just leave rank out of this entire situation. Besides, there’s no need to apologize for anything.”

  “You aren’t going to report me for my actions of a few minutes ago with that civilian?”

  “Reporting cadets for every little infraction is not my style of leadership. Besides, even if I were the type to report you, in my opinion there was no infraction. If anything you should receive praise. You did a good job of momentarily curbing that civilian’s behavior without allowing the situation to escalate beyond control.”

  “Thank you for understanding my position. I hope that there will come a day when people like that civilian won’t be missed.”

  “So do I, but unfortunately that time is not yet upon us. Perhaps it will be someday, but for now you did the right thing to say your peace and let it go.”

  What the senior cadet didn’t realize was that Jason hadn’t really let it go. Although Jason’s internal wheels were still churning over the altercation, and the comments made about an incident of roughly twenty years ago, his demeanor had satisfied the Battalion Commander that everything was fine. Then he capped off the impression of passiveness when he calmly replied, “You’re right, nothing will happen today.”

  A short time later a boarding announcement was made, so the contingent of passengers made their way onto the train and Jason once again bid farewell to Manhattan. Without any doubt the city had provided, and perhaps always would, an endless stream of excitement, but for him the apple was in decay. As such, the teaming and mostly disorganized activity that seemed to never end could only be endured for a few days at a time. Now he could stretch out and relax for a little while in relative comfort without being pushed or bumped into by people with some vital agenda or by those who simply weren’t paying attention to where they were going.

  As the train pulled away to begin what would become a northerly trek on the western side of the Hudson River toward the United States Military Academy, Jason reflected on how much he preferred a boat ride to West Point on the Hudson instead. In many cases during the warmer months of the year, he had enjoyed such a ride to unwind from the craziness of the apple in the relative solitude of an outside deck location. It was indeed something that could not be attained by taking the train to West Point, and he had spoken with several other cadets who had done the same. Unfortunately even if such a ride were possible during the time of this particular January endeavor, the current temperature in the upper thirties and the accompanying heavy stinging rain would have made an outer deck location far less attractive.

  Seated facing his new acquaintance who had invited him to partake in a relaxed conversation, Jason felt that the company of a fellow cadet provided a welcome change to the solitude without becoming intrusive. Throughout the journey the two cadets carried on a discussion covering many topics, and the seeds of what could be a lasting friendship took hold. Jason became well informed as to the background and philosophical beliefs of his new friend simply by sitting back and listening with limited interruption. That strategy had also enabled him to reveal only limited amounts of information regarding his own upbringing or the Tillman family. Jason learned that the Battalion Commanders name was Kevin Flores, and that he hailed from a place called Oro Valley just north of Tucson Arizona. His grandparents had come into the United States from Mexico during their youth, and were proud that they had followed the established protocol to become legalized American citizens. While his parents and other portions of the family resided in Arizona, he also had aunts, uncles, and cousins’ who had willfully returned to live in Mexico. Kevin also revealed that he had spent much of his limited free time before attending West Point exploring various mountainous terrains in the American southwest, and was well versed in how to survive in desert climates. Based on that, he expressed a desire after his graduation to be posted at a duty station in a hot and arid location. Kevin’s main course of study was focused on reconnaissance with an intended future in the area of air traffic control, as he believed those skills could be of practical use for a career after retiring from military service.

  At the conclusion of the train ride, the cadets prepared to disembark with the other passengers. Some were civilian personnel employed by the academy, while others, such as the prankster Mr. Spano, were civilians who lived or worked in the town of Highland Falls just south of the academies Thayer Gate. Jason focused on the actions of the heavyset prankster, and watched the man labor as he walked solo into the distance. More information would need to be gathered to determine if Nick Spano was important enough to bother with, and Jason decided that he would set those wheels in motion shortly after returning to his barracks.

  Back on the academy grounds as the two cadets moved to the west from the train station and the Hudson, there would need to be a return to the associated protocol of life at West Point. Now midway through his junior year as a second class cadet, and with the most challenging aspects of academy life seemingly already behind him, Jason wanted nothing but smooth sailing during the upcoming term. Snapping to attention in the event of curious onlookers, he said to his new friend Kevin, “Thank you for the conversation on the way up from Manhattan. If your schedule permits, then perhaps we can find a way to continue our discussions at some point in the future.”

  Understanding the need for such protocol and that they were sure to run into each other from time to time, as well as being impressed by the way his subordinate cadet had controlled a potentially violent situation, the reply was quick. “Thank you as well. I think that would be a good idea.”

  With that Jason nodded and waited for the upperclassman to depart. A moment later he headed toward the barracks where he would report in for duty nearly an entire day ahead of the required time for doing so. Later that evening, he took a stroll up the hill toward the academy chapel and Lusk reservoir just beyond. After ensuring that he was alone in the wooded area, Jason pulled the burn phone that his grandfather had given him earlier that day from his pocket. Then while looking across the reservoir toward the empty, dark, and snowbound Michie Stadium, he hit speed dial for the only number that it contained.

  A woman’s voice on the other end said, “This is number twenty three, is everything alright?”

  “Hello number twenty three. This is Jason, and yes, all is well.”

  “Then why are you contacting me at this time? Your next scheduled report isn’t due for several weeks.”

  “I understand that ma’am, but I have a possible recruit and two requests that could merit immediate consideration.”

  “I see. Then please proceed.”

  “Thank you. First, there is another cadet who could become useful with the overall plan as a recruit. He’s a first classman of high cadet rank named Kevin Flores, and his hometown is Oro Valley near Tucson Arizona. Preliminary information based on a lengthy interview looks good, but we will need a detailed investigation of him and his family before a determination can be made.”

  “Understood, and I’ll put somebody on it right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What about the requests?”

  “They are related, and may prove to be nothing, but my instinct tells me that they need to be looked into.”

  “Understood, what do you need?”

  “First, could your team gather some information on a man named Nick Spano? He’s a civilian that’s roughly forty-five years of age who is living and potentially working in Highland Falls New York. He boasts of harassment toward cadets throughout the past twenty years, and I would like to have him repaid for those efforts.”

  “Understood. Do you feel that the information on this civilian should be treated as a high priority?”

  “No, but I would like to be briefed on your findings if possible.”

  “That’s not a problem. And the second request?”

  “Can your team research how many plebe cadets named Chance where at West Point during the 2006 - 2007 acad
emic year?”

  “That’s a strange request, but sure. I’ll have the answer before your next contact.”

  “Thank you, and should that contact still be on the predetermined date?”

  “Yes it should. Don’t use your burn phone again before then if possible, and contact me on the first day of February.”

  “I understand and confirm the first day of February.”

  With that Jason placed the phone in a small zip lock bag, buried it near the exposed root of a tree, and returned to his barracks.

  Samuel Tillman exited the underground train servicing the various terminals of the Denver International Airport, and then shuffled along with the mass of other airline passengers. While still buried within a herding formation, he then rode the escalator up toward the main concourse level. Fifteen minutes later Samuel had retrieved his luggage, walked to the predetermined curbside rendezvous point, and waited for his middle son Mason and nineteen year old grandson Beau to arrive. Those two had flown from Texas into the smaller Centennial Airport at greater Denver’s southern edge aboard the Tillman family Gulfstream G280 jet earlier in the day. That had been done so Beau, now midway through his second year at the Air Force Academy in nearby Colorado Springs, could report back for duty sometime before Sunday evening.

  As Mason pulled up to the curbside in a rental car that had been secured for a few days, Samuel glanced at his watch to verify the punctuality of his descendants. Then as Beau exited the front seat to help his grandfather with the luggage, he smiled and said, “Welcome to Denver sir. How was your time in the apple?”

  Returning the smile of his second oldest grandchild, Samuel replied, “It was very nice thank you, and your cousin Savanah seemed to really enjoy herself.”

  “I’m glad to hear that sir. What about Jason?”

  “He was very helpful during our time there as one would expect, but deep down Jason really dislikes Manhattan. It was obvious at the airport this morning that he couldn’t wait to get out of there and back to West Point.”

  “Yes sir, he mentioned to me during the holiday break that he is over the apple.”

  “That’s true enough Beau, but you should understand why. Both of you grew up in a relaxed environment with plenty of open space around you, and you still have a certain feel for that here in Colorado. Unfortunately Jason doesn’t share that same luxury, as New York, generally speaking, is much more frenetic. But fortunately for Jason, his requirements there are nearly complete. Now his focus lies more on West Point, and the minimal future exposure to the apple will surely make him happy. Now, how was the New Year’s eve celebration back home?”

  “It was nice sir, but we all missed having part of the family there.”

  “Well that’s good to hear, and we should all be together at the ranch next year. If our plan comes to fruition, then we will have a New Year’s celebration beyond compare.”

  With Samuels luggage safely stowed in the trunk, the three generations of Tillman men drove away from the congestion of Denver’s international airport. After enjoying a day filled with discussion of life at the Air Force Academy, a few nice meals, and events that included a hockey game between the Colorado Avalanche and the Dallas Stars, they retired to their hotel.

  On Sunday morning, they awoke to discover that a storm had covered the surrounding area with a fresh blanket of snow, and a more significant amount was due later that afternoon. Although his Texas upbringing had not prepared him for the somewhat slippery conditions, Mason drove them south towards Colorado Springs to the best of his ability. The journey of slightly more than fifty miles along the snow covered interstate - 25 toward the Air Force Academy gave them plenty of time to chat about the overall plan, and how Beau could be an instrumental part in the success of that plan if Colorado did indeed come into play.

  As they approached the northern gate to the academy grounds, a sentry motioned for them to slow. With no sticker on the window to identify that those within could be officers, faculty, or civilian employees, he motioned for the driver to stop and lower his window. Looking inside and seeing a cadet in the back seat, the sentry said to Mason, “Good morning sir.”

  Mason replied in kind, “Good morning to you as well.”

  “What is the purpose of your visit today sir?”

  With a motion of his thumb back over his right shoulder, he said, “I’m returning my son from the holiday break so he can report for duty.”

  Then looking over toward Samuel, the sentry asked, “And who are you sir?”

  Samuel looked at the sentry with a smile of pride and said, “I’m the cadet’s grandfather.”

  After standing upright for a brief instant to signal another sentry, he peered back into the vehicle and said, “I understand gentlemen. Would you please pull over to the right and stop next to the sentry with his arm raised. A bus will be along shortly to return the cadet to his barracks.”

  Without looking toward the second sentry, Mason replied, “I understand, and thank you.”

  “You’re welcome sir, have a nice day.”

  Once parked at the designated drop off zone, Samuel reached into a pocket of his coat to retrieve a new burn phone. Then he turned slightly so that he could see his grandson, and said, “Here’s a new burn phone for you Beau. It’s just like the one that I gave your cousin Jason yesterday morning, and I will tell you what I told him. I would like you to stick with the protocol that we discussed yesterday by hiding this in a safe place. Gather whatever intelligence that you think could be useful and commit it to memory. Then use this phone to contact number twenty three with your report on the first day of February. She will give you instructions as to what may be required of you, and when further contact will take place. Try not to use this phone at any time other than when number twenty three has instructed you to do so, but if you have some information that could require immediate attention, then don’t hesitate to make contact with her.”

  Reaching for the burn phone, Beau replied, “I understand sir, and I won’t let you down.”

  “Your father and I, along with the rest of the family, all know that Beau. You are a bright young man, and this won’t detract from what you are attempting to accomplish here. Please stay focused on your studies to become a future pilot, while maintaining a low profile throughout the remainder of your second year.”

  A moment later the academy bus arrived as promised, and Beau stepped out to unload his gear from the trunk. As he shook the hand of both his father and grandfather, Beau said, “Thanks for dropping me off, and for everything that we did together yesterday and today.”

  Then Mason replied, “Good to have you with us Beau. Take care and I’ll see you this coming summer.”

  As Beau confidently strode away from the car, Samuel said, “Alright Mason, let’s get on the interstate and head north toward Denver. We have a lot of work to do back home, so we need to get to our plane before the next storm hits.”

  Savanah smiled with glee as her grandmother Victoria set the cake in front of her. The entire family of grandparents, parents, her older brother Blake, Uncle Mason and Aunt Courtney, her cousin Jennifer, and of course, Ms. Holloway had all just sung her a happy birthday. The only ones who were missing from the event were her oldest brother Jason and her cousin Beau, but Savanah understood that they were both away at school. Although her entire birthday weekend had been fun filled, this was the crowning moment. What made the day even better was that she could stay up late on this Sunday night, as the following day was a school and national holiday in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday.

  After blowing out the eight candles and taking a good look at the cake, Savanah began to laugh. It must have been Blake’s idea for the decoration, as her thirteen year old brother was always looking for ways to be creative with numbers. Aside from the candles, there was a big eight in the middle. Both of those made sense for her eighth birthday, but she didn’t initially understand the rest of his message. Then she asked him, “Hey Blake, why did you have Ms.
Holloway put some ones and eights all over the cake?”

  The bright young man hoping to someday follow their parents’ and grandparents’ footsteps by attending Texas A&M then replied, “Because today is a special day of three ones and three eights. You were born on 1/18/18 and today you are eight. You will have other birthdays that have only ones and eights, like when you become eleven or eighteen, but today is the only time that you will have three of each!”

  Running the numbers through her head, and realizing that her brother was correct, Savanah smiled and said, “Hey that’s pretty neat. Thanks for thinking of that Blake.”

  “You’re welcome Savanah, and happy birthday.”

  Samuel was seated comfortably in his favorite chair, with a smile nearly as large as that of his youngest grandchild while he gazed upon the majority of the Tillman family. He was proud to have built them such a marvelous home with plenty of room in the various wings for each faction of the family, and the massive central family room that they all currently occupied was his most favorite spot in the mansion. None of it had come without hard work and a savvy sense of business however, as Samuel had amassed a huge fortune via early oil, cattle, and real estate investments. Then after the dawn of a new century, he and Victoria had parlayed a large portion of their fortune with a move toward the even more lucrative information technology sector that had blossomed and prospered in Austin. Always searching for added diversification, Samuel had also invested heavily in the transportation sector of commerce with trucking, rail, and shipping companies that were now at his command. Those interests, although currently of huge benefit, would become even more so to him and the family during the course of the most recent endeavor and well beyond.

  As for the family, Samuel loved each and every one of them for their respective strengths or shortcomings, but most notably for how they peacefully and respectfully interacted with one another. What Blake had done for his little sister’s birthday cake was a prime example, and he hoped that the young family numbers whiz had been correct at claiming that Savanah would someday celebrate an eighteenth birthday. While sipping from his coffee and attempting to force the bad thoughts of her health from his mind, Samuel noticed something a little odd. As his wife Victoria was helping Savanah cut the cake, their youngest surviving son Mason stood and moved toward Ms. Holloway. After seeing him whisper into her ear, the elderly woman nodded as if receiving instruction from a superior and took his previous seat close to Courtney. On the surface it would have appeared to be a gentlemanly gesture, but although they were subtle, Courtney showed visible signs of her displeasure in the act.