Tim instinctively reached and grabbed a roll of TP that just so happened to be sitting on his desk and threw it at the door, but it was too late and ended up only helplessly hitting the shut door before it fell to the floor. He let out a light chuckle before looking back at his desk full of paperwork. “Fun she said, you will help rebuild America, make it great again she said,” He said aloud to himself, as he remembered the pitch Geisha gave him when persuading him to be her second in command.
Tim wasn’t what you would think of as your typical Montana cowboy type. He was five foot six inches, with his boots on, and was as about as thick as a fence post. He was adopted when he was four years old, by one of the richest families in the small town of Kalispell Montana, and had suffered medical issues since birth. This caused to him to always be the smallest kid in class. Add in some thick glasses, and the fact that he was the only black kid in his class, growing up was difficult. But it was threw the endless giving of love by his adoptive parents that he would grow up strong, and smart. He learned to never back down from a challenge and after graduating college at the University of Montana, he returned home where he worked for his dad, up until the blackout.
It was then, that the many life skills that his father had taught him came into play. Such as being a top rated horse rider, and a deadly shot with his Henry Big Boy, chambered in .45 Colt. His backwoods survival skills, combined with his college education helped not only ensure his survival during the dark days of the long night, but put him at the forefront of leadership once the Fox Wars started. It was during those days, that he formed a bond with Geisha’s late husband. Then after the war had ended, and Free Montana was formed, Geisha reach out once again to her friend and persuaded him to stand beside her to help keep the American dream alive. He quickly excepted and ever since then, the two of them have been patching together the dream of restoring the fabric of America one stitch at a time.
17 Give & Take
The Rittenhouse Philadelphia Hotel
&
The Kings Quarters
The one time opulent Rittenhouse Philadelphia Hotel once fetched prices of well over $500 per night. Since the lights have come back on, however, the cost for a room had dropped significantly. Though despite the cost, as well as some of the amenities of the Rittenhouse dropping, it was still nearly imposable to get a room here, that is unless you know someone. Being a servant of the King once again shows its benefits. While the rooms here are usually reserved for visiting dignitaries, both Russian and Chinese, as well as well appointed public servants, such as the King and his men. Now, Tommy, a little nobody, found himself in such company.
Tommy stood out on the balcony, out amongst the falling snow, as the occasional winter breeze raced across his park suite view. He leaned up against the railing of the balcony as he looked down towards those below. This room, prior to the blackout, would have cost him a months salary, now he stood here, free of charge. Tommy quickly turned around when he heard the door to his room open, as he saw Mr. Edict entire the room quickly. “Hey Mr. Edict, is it okay if order room service? I just always saw them do it in the movies, and I just never had the chance to.”
Mr. Edict walked into the room in a rush, he brushed the question aside as he continued to scan the room. “Where’s Cherry?” He asked in a short and heated manner.
Being caught off guard, Tommy could only point and answer, “Shower.”
Mr. Edict stopped in his tracks and turned towards the shower. He firmly grasped the doorknob and yanked the bathroom door open. Steam from the shower hurriedly escaped the confines of the bathroom and spilled out into the open space of the room. Cherry screamed in shock as Mr. Edict ripped the curtain on the shower back. “Get out, now.” He said before he turned and walked back out into the main room of the suite where Tommy now stood in a bit of shock.
“Mr. Edict, what’s going on? Did I do something wrong?” Tommy quickly asked, his arms stretched out. He stood there, as he watched Cherry, hurriedly stumble out of the bathroom, a terry cloth towel clumsily wrapped around her wet body.
Mr. Edict again ignored Tommys question, as he walked past him towards the balcony. He shut the sliding glass door and drew the curtain back, blocking any unwanted eyes from looking in. Finally, he turned, placed his hands on his hips and let out a deep breath. He looked at Tommy than to Cherry and then back to Tommy. “Look, I have a problem. Something came up and I have to leave town for a little bit. That being said, honestly I am not sure if I can leave you two here on your own. It’s one thing to leave you out in the backwoods somewhere, but here, in the epicenter of all, that's going to be happening. Not to mention the security is going to be skyrocketing the sooner we get to the celebration.”
“We’ll be fine, I promise. We can take care of ourselves,” Tommy quickly said, as he tried to interject some confidence into Mr. Edict’s thoughts.
Mr. Edict smiled as he looked over, “Tommy,” He paused as he slid his right hand into his inner jacket pocket. “I like you, I really do, but there is just too much at risk here.” He then calmly pulled out his pistol, a suppresser already attached. “You see, I am not sure if I can trust you two to stay here, to stay out of sight, and I can’t exactly take you with me. So, Tommy, what do I do?” He asked as he held his pistol loosely in his right hand, the barrel pointed down towards the floor.
Tommy’s stomach wrenched and tightened into a thousand knots. He stood there, nearly frozen, as his eyes darted from Mr. Edicts face down towards the gun and back again. During his time spent in combat, he had faced death more times then he could count. Never once, during all those gunfights did he ever freeze up. He would be scared at times, completely terrified at others, but I never stopped him. There was an internal drive, to keep his brother next to him alive, which always drove him forward. This time it was different though. It wasn’t the fear of dying here, in some fancy hotel room, it was who was doing the threatening. Tommy looked at Mr. Edict as a good friend, someone he admired and wanted to make proud. “Mr. Edict, I promise, no one will see us. We won't go anywhere.”
Mr. Edict held up his left index finger to silence Tommy, before he turned his attention to Cherry, who was still standing there, her towel grasped tight with her hands. Her hair still hung wet and in gathered strands, water droplets slowly let go of their grasp upon her legs and ran freely towards the floor, “Get on your knees.”
Instantly tears started to form in Cherry’s eyes, as she shook her head, “No, please. I will be good, I have always been loyal to the King, I promise, I’ll stay quiet.”
“This is the last time I ask nicely. It’s not that difficult, I know you have done it thousands of times. How long did you spend in that last Field House?” This question was a direct jab at Cherry, intended to remind her of her place in the grand scheme of things. “Get on your knees, now.” Mr. Edict said as he raised the pistol up, leveling it off with Cherry’s forehead.
The tears now fell unabated, rolling down Cherry’s cheeks. She continued to clutch the towel tight around her body, as she slowly got down on her knees. Once down, she looked up at Mr. Edict, as he inched the suppressed barrel closer to her head. She kept her eyes locked on Mr. Edict, as she said, “Tommy, I just want you to know, that I truly do like you a lot. You’re a sweet guy, and I wish we could have met under different circumstances.” She rushed the last few words together, in an attempt to get them out before her words drowned in her tears.
“Tommy,” Mr. Edict said, in his typical calm tone. “Are you watching?”
“Yes sir,” Tommy said coldly.
Mr. Edict smiled, then said, “Good. Because if you leave this room, if ANYONE sees either of you before I come back. I will make sure that you are the one holding the pistol, and that you are the one that pulled the trigger, and you are the one putting a tiny little hole into Cherry’s pretty face.” Then just like that, he let out a little laugh, re-holstered the weapon and turned to face Tommy, “Good, glad that is out of the way,” this time with a glee
ful tone surrounded his words. “So, I have to go run on a quick side mission. You have my number, so if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.” He walked over and patted Tommy on the shoulder as he smiled. He then turned to walk out, he paused to give some final instructions to Cherry, “Be sure and take care of our boy.”
Cherry, who was still on her knees, nodded yes, as she pushed out a response, “Of course.” The words escaped between gasps of air being sucked in.
Mr. Edict had reached the door and had it opened when he stopped and turned back towards Tommy, “Oh, as to your question, the answer is yes. Order as much room service that you want. Get the T-Bone, its one of the best you’ll ever have.” Then with that, he shut the door and walked out.
Once the door was shut, Tommy slowly walked over and sat down on the floor next to Cherry. He placed his arm around her and pulled her close, as she began to once again cry uncontrollably. He sat there, feeling exhausted, as if he just ran a marathon. He wanted to say something positive, something that would ensure her that she was safe with him, but he knew anything he said would be hallow and a lie. He stood there, he did nothing, as Mr. Edict treated to kill her. What could he possibly say to show her that she was safe? What could he do?
“We can’t get out now,” Cherry said as wrapped her arms around Tommy. Her damp head resting sorrily upon his shoulder.
By the time Mr. Edict reached the ground floor, his car was already waiting for him parked out front. He pulled out his phone, tapped on the top number on his list, and then waited for the line to be answered. “Ms. Quidworth? How is he?” Mr. Edict asked as he sat down in his car and started it up.
Mr. Edict listened intently as Ms. Quidworth laid out in detail the events of the past few days. She explained that he had suffered a major stroke, and thus is unable to talk. They had been working on getting some form of communication going, using a lop top. Finally, after hearing the gist of the situation he replied, “I’m heading to the airport right now. I will be there by this evening to talk to him. Just tell him that I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone, not allowing Ms. Quidworth to get any other comments in. He made his way on to the airport where one of the King's personal jets waited on him, to take him on to the King.
Kings Residents
Ms. Quidworth placed the phone down on the side table in Kings bedroom. She walked over to his bedside where he laid slightly propped up. “Sir,” she started, then waited till his eyes opened. “Mr. Edict just called. He’ll be here by this evening.”
Edwin laid there, his vision had started to get better, but he still struggled at times. At the moment, he recognized the voice, but as he looked up, all he could see was fuzzy clumps of light and dark. He was unable to bring things into focus and create the images in his mind. At least his hearing still worked, he thought half heartedly. He lifted his head slightly off of the pillow and nodded in agreement, then quickly let it fall back down.
As Edwin laid there, he didn’t know what was worse, his inability to communicate, or the loss of energy to get up and work. The two have always been mainstays in his life, now, with a simple flick of the switch, they were both gone. He was lost within his own mind, wandering aimlessly through the mental structure he had built over so many years. Floors upon floors and rooms that seemingly went on for eternity was now his domain. He was once the most feared man, the most powerful man in the entire known world. Now, he had been reduced to living alone within his mind.
Edwin was walking down one of the grand hallways within his mental mention. It the hallway seemed to be in a constant state of change. The walls and the floor never seemed solid, but more like the structure had been created from millions of sand particles, which flowed and shifted, ever changing. Since his incident, he had been wondering his internal fortress, yet at the same time he has refused to admit that this would be his permanent residence. He still held out hope that he would be able to recover and escape its curial confines. Soon though he would have to make a choice, submit and accept his new surroundings or find a way to get out for good.
“Very well,” Edwin thought to himself as he wondered the labyrinth within his mind. “If I am going to be stuck here within my mind, then I will have to make the best of it. I will not let something as trifle as a stroke stop my work from being completed.”
It was at that moment, that Edwin Magness, no longer was a victim of ironic circumstances, but instead, he became the master of his surroundings. As Edwin stood there, within his mind, the siliceous floor, hardened and became solid. It was no longer a flow of continuous molecules, but a dark wooden floor. It remembers the hand scrapped flooring he had in his office. The walls quickly followed suit, as they too took on an eternal formation. They quickly took on the form of a grand hallway, much like that of his grade school. Despite the memories of the horrific teachers and their barbaric forms of discipline, that hallway, and those grounds, still held one of the happiest memories of his entire life. For that reason, they will eternally be etched within his soul.
“Now where to begin?” Edwin thought to himself. Just as he did a grand double door appeared before him. He walked past the grand double doors and into a large boardroom, where an elongated wooden desk ran lengthwise down the center of the room. Along the walls, in a clockwise direction hung portraits of Edwin during various stages of his life and career. Each picture brought back memories, every one of them put a smile on his face. But that would be for a later time, for now he had work. With his inability to truly communicate or to be the visual leader, how will he accomplish his goals, how will he see it through?
Edwin walked around to the far end of the table, where he took his seat. There were a dozen chairs that lined around the table, each currently sat vacant of any residents. As he sat there and looked around the table, key players of his plan started to appear. There was Mr. Edict, Doctors Amy and Klaus, Tommy, along with others who played various parts. Then finally, as always, there stood Ms. Quidworth, quietly in the corner, ready to keep order.
Now, with all the players assembled, the task was to find a new face for the movement, someone who strikes fear and respect in those who would be required to follow. However more importantly who would have the fortitude to complete the mission. Because of the multiple layers of deniability, Edwin had basically operated in a fortified of seclusion. He ensured that no one knew everything, that each only knew what they needed to, to ensure that if one was caught or worse, gained a conscientious, that they alone would not be able to bring down his empire. A mistake he learned with Miguel Isidro.
He looked around the boardroom table once again. Dismissing those he felt were unworthy or incapable of fulfilling the mission. One by one, each member faded away, till there was only one still sitting there. Calm and composed as always, Mr. Edict sat at the table awaiting his orders. Edwin smiled, as he looked at the imaginative representing of Mr. Edict, and then looked towards the ever-present Ms. Quidworth. Edwin nodded towards Ms. Quidworth, who stood there, holding a leather portfolio, “I think I found my new leader.”
18 Crush Depth
USS Michigan / Location Unknown
The Michigans XO, Jacks, walked the constricted hallway of the Michigan, stopping outside of the door of Captain Hunley. He knocked assuredly upon the door and then waited, “Sir?”
“Enter,” Captain Hunnely said as he sat at his sat on his blue cushioned set. His forearms rested on the fold down the table as he held a picture of his wife and daughter. He slowly pulled his eyes away from the picture as he looked up and watched the XO enter the confined quarters. The XO didn’t say anything, just entered then sat down across from Captain Hunnely. “Any word?”
XO nodded, “Yes, I just got off the horn with Lt. Preen. There have been some interesting developments.”
Captain Hunnley placed the photo on the small table before he leaned back as far as his constricted seat would allow. He folded his arms and looked over at XO Jacks as he asked, “Interesting how?”
“T
hey made contact with the Zion group, and for the most part, that went well. It was what they discovered later, that is a little troubling.” The XO responded. He repositioned himself to get a bit more comfortable as he sat there across from the Captain. Nuclear Submarines are amazing works of modern technology, that being said, they suck when it comes to personal space and allowing someone to truly stretch out. “It’s a lot worse there than we suspected. The pauperized conditions which the American people live in now is frightening. Then there is the fact that Russian and Chinese troops patrol the nights and are basically the law and order around town.” XO bowed his head and shook it in disgust and sorrow. He looked up, “I can’t stop thinking about my wife and two kids, wondering if they got somewhere safe if they are surviving. If they still hold hope out that I’m alive.” He thought for a moment about the last time he saw his family, the last time he held them. “Honestly, my biggest fear is that they gave up hope on me, that they are alive thinking I have forsaken them. I just want them to know I’m coming for them.”
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