Verron_Birth of a Nation

by Douglas Varnell

  Paul had not come to this planet to annihilate an entire species, but he realized that some species simply could not live in peace with those around them. After a big party in the Molnar city below ground, Paul had Yadvega informed the Chief of the Lyncardi that he would station some ships and soldiers on the planet for their protection. Looking at the sacred book, he added, “I think it would be wise to start schools here and teach them a common tongue. We may also want to see if they are capable of handling some of our smaller weapons. From what Chase has told me, there are still some pretty vicious creatures roaming around this planet.” After Yadvega explained the intent to the chief, he began to chant, “Paul, Paul, Paul …” Paul looked at Tala who said, “May as well get used to it, they do this a lot. Did I tell you I was their Queen for a while, until the dead snake showed-up?” General Zarman had several of the Lyncardi warriors trained on the tripod mounted 5mm recoilless plasma rifle. They seldom used them except in one on one combat or ship boarding. They were a short rifle and easy to operate. The Lyncardi could now protect themselves from spiders and snakes. When they were preparing to leave, to everyone’s surprise, Paul was over to the side speaking with the chief using Yadvega for an interpreter. He was holding a large bag of the mushrooms. Paul smiled as he told Tala and Chase, “These mushrooms grow all over the tunnels and caves here and there are so many they almost become a nuisance. This will be our export crop from Molnar. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Tala you are still Queen and Chase has been named their protector. Evidently they found the remains of the dead creatures you left behind, and you were also being watched by the sneaky little guys as you did all you’re killing. They obviously have tunnels everywhere under this place. Tala gave hugs to some of the children and to the chief and was given back her crown and robe and a nice big bag of centipedes. She decided she would give them to Katelyn, who had missed out on all the fun. Paul put his arm around her shoulder as they were boarding their ships to leave and informed her, “This is hereby officially your planet Queen Tala. Be sure and take good care of your people.” The little Lyncardi were in the cave entrance waving good-bye and chanting, “Tala, Tala, Tala …” As the ships departed. She couldn’t help but smile at the cute little guys.

  While Paul, Tala and Chase were destroying the last of an endangered species, Hunter was having a great week recruiting farmers and practicing with his new abilities. No wonder Paul was always so far ahead of the others. He had immediate access to every ounce of information Lucy contained. He could see things no one else could see and even hear things as he used the drones that no one else could hear or see. He was about to wrap up his weeks efforts as he awaited the last of the 4000 farmers to arrive at the abandoned farm on the outskirts of a small farming community. The last of them was pulling into the long dirt drive when Lucy informed him that there were several vehicles coming his way at a high rate of speed. He had the drone give him a closer view and what he saw gave him pause. There were seven pick-up trucks and flat-bed farm trucks racing in his direction. In the back of each were 6 to 12 armed men. These weren’t police or soldiers, they were locals determined to prevent the other farmers from leaving. He looked to the last truck that had arrived and asked if they knew what was going on. One very attractive girl of about 18 came forward and explained, “Those men are being led by my father. He has arranged for me to marry the city Mayor. I am in love with Sergei.” She held a big dark-haired man by the hand. They made a nice couple. She continued, “He intends to take me back and stop the others from leaving, so the Mayor will not be embarrassed by so many of his workers disappearing on him.” Hunter had no desire to hurt anyone. There was a small bridge over a shallow creek between the approaching trucks and the farmhouse. He focused on the bridge, and as if a bomb had gone off, it exploded into balls of flame and flying debris. The trucks came to a screeching halt and all but one turned and headed the opposite direction. The girl’s father stood and watched from a distance as his daughter and 3999 other people disappeared through a gateway to Verron.

  After they were safely through and in the hands of the medical and immigration people on Verron, Hunter decided he would take his Papaw Verron’s advice and go see his Grandmother and Donald in New York. It had been well over a year since he had seen them and then only for Christmas day with the rest of the family. He almost took a Russian Airline flight, but didn’t feel like going through the hassle of customs and immigration and decided to make a gateway into JFK then take a taxi to Leona’s and Donald’s condominium in Trump International Hotel and Tower. He had never been there before and was anxious to see just what a five-million-dollar 2 bedroom and 2.5-bath Condominium looked like. He now had his own place in the towers above Market Place in Capital City. His place was almost 3000 square feet and 3 bedrooms, three baths, with a view of mountains and rivers and the city below. He caught a limo from the airport and was deposited a half-hour later in front of the Trump International. When he indicated that all he had was a small shoulder bag, and that he would carry it himself, he got strange looks from the well-dressed Consignee. He had not called ahead and was given suspicious looks as he asked for his Grandmothers apartment. Fortunately for him, Leona was home and had him buzzed through the security. Hunter couldn’t help but notice the strange looks he was receiving then it dawned on him that he probably looked more like a Russian mob hit-man, in his European styled topcoat, dark trousers and shirt, knee high boots and foot long pony-tail, than an authorized guest in this building. Everyone around him was stylishly dressed in the newest trend of suits and business attire. There were a few decked-out like they were rock stars or in an MTV Video. Hunter thought that everyone was trying to outdo everyone else and somehow stand out in the crowd while still fitting in. When he exited the elevator on the 40th floor, Leona was waiting in the hall for him. He always thought she had the best hugs in the world and today was no exception.

  Just as they tore apart their embrace and were walking arm-in-arm towards Leona’s open door, a beautiful blond stepped out of the door to his left and gave the couple a strange look. Leona immediately knew what the young woman would be thinking and quickly introduced her Grandson to Ursula Hecht. Hunter was lost during the introductions as he stared at this beautiful creature; 20 years-old, about 5ft-9in tall and a very trim 120 pounds, she was thin but not skinny; strawberry blond hair, blue eyes, full luscious lips and a smile that could stop traffic. He caught himself before his gaze was too long or too obvious. He heard Leona say, “This is my grandson Hunter; this is Ursula Hecht, my supermodel next door neighbor; everyone in New York has at least one supermodel next door neighbor.” Hunter managed to catch himself and told Ursula, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you really a supermodel or just a beautiful woman?” Ursula smiled at his awkwardness and replied, “Well, a lot of people are willing to pay me a lot of money to pose with their products. The pay’s pretty good. What did you say your name was?” Without thinking he quickly introduced himself like he would on Verron. He replied, “Prince Hunter.” He realized he had messed up but it was too late to turn-back now. She asked, “And what do you do for a living Prince Hunter?” He smiled and decided to go for broke, “Oh the usual, international spy smuggling people in and out of Russia, fighting terrorist, testing spaceships, same stuff any other Prince does.” Leona almost choked at Hunter’s candor, but muffled her cough. Ursula headed for the elevator and replied, “Your different; if you’re here a few days let’s do something. Got to run; have a shoot in two hours. Nice meeting you Prince.”

  Just as the elevator doors closed, Leona smacked him in the back of the head, saying, “What in the world were you thinking, Prince Hunter, international spy, fighting terrorists. I’d laugh if it weren’t all true.” Hunter looked surprised at his Grandmothers knowledge. She continued, “You look surprised, I know a lot more than you think. You think I don’t have people on Verron that tell me things. By the way, how did it go in Russia? See I even knew where you were.” Hunter laughed and gave her another hug,
saying, “Maybe you should be the spy Mena.”

  The condo was beautiful. He had been in their condo in Atlanta several times, this was smaller, but definitely lusher, with imported tile floors in the foyer, real marble vanities and real stone counter tops, beautiful hardwood floors. He walked to the balcony and stood a moment to appreciate the view of Central Park below and the New York skyline. He turned to Leona, asking, “It’s nice but why do you want to live here?” Leona smiled as she answered, “My entire working career has been in banking and finance. I love to play with other people’s money and see just how much money I can make for them. I also make some pretty good money myself, especially now. Donald and I chose New York because this is where the money people are. Even if they don’t live here, they come here for the same reason we’re here. Manhattan is all about money. You’ll soon find that these people around here care for nothing else, everything they do or say is geared toward gaining position or manipulating others for their own benefit. Some are very good at it, most just think they are.” Leona took a long look at her handsome grandson and asked, “Where are the rest of your things?” Hunter smiled as he dumped his shoulder bag on a bed in the guest bedroom, “I do need to do some laundry, but my jeans are clean.” He held up a black T-Shirt and declared, “I can probably wear this at least once more.” Leona looked on his bed and asked, “And, what on Earth are those?” Hunter just then noticed the two thermal grenades, a plasma grenade and his baseball sized observation drone. He grinned as he replied, “Well, part of your question was right, they are not from Earth. Good thing I didn’t fly commercial. I wonder what Homeland Security would say about these?” Leona shook her head and declared, “You always were one to stash away a few extra toys for a trip. Put those away and let’s go shopping. You can’t go out in this neighborhood dressed like Chuck Norris in The Hitman.” She looked at her watch and continued, “It early yet. Nordstrom’s should have enough to get you by.” She called the Consignee and told him to have a limo downstairs in 15 minutes.

  They were dropped off at Nordstrom’s and Leona’s other favorite thing kicked in. The only thing she loved more than making money was spending it. She loved to shop and here was her poor little grandson looking like some immigrant mobster. Eight thousand dollars, two more department stores and six hours later, Hunter was ready to go back to Verron and just put on a set of commando gray’s and go for a run with the Dragon Guard. He had forgotten just how Leona could shop and she loved to dress her man; today Hunter was her man.

  By the time they got home, Hunter was ready to kick off his shoes and relax a while. Donald already had reservations with a client for 8:00 PM at Jean Georges Restaurant. He was informed that it is the finest French restaurant in New York. Leona laid out what he should wear while he got a shower in what was considered a big shower, in Manhattan. He later exited his room dressed in an Armani suit and looking as if he was ready to walk down a runway to model. He even had on a properly tied neck tie. Everyone was amazed when Hunter spoke fluent French to each waiter and perfect Spanish to the customers meeting with Donald and Leona. One was from Argentina and negotiating the sale of his beef processing operation. He had no clue that soon the entire operation would be moved to Verron. The other gentleman at the table owned a large Triumph, Ducati and BMW Motorcycle Dealership in San Diego, California. The two Hispanic gentlemen shared a love for motorcycles and soon became friends. By the time the meal was over, Donald and Leona had everything but the signed contract for Verron’s next meat processing plant and Xhondar I’s future motorcycle dealership.

  The two men were impressed with the handsome young man, with his poise and confidence. He was invited to Argentina and San Diego and given personal phone numbers by both. If the two flamboyant men were impressed with Hunter during dinner, they were bordering on hero worship as they were exiting Jean Georges. Coming in for a late night meal, after an eight hour photo shoot, was Ursula Hecht, accompanied by three other models from the shoot. When she recognized her next door neighbors then got a look at a transformed Hunter, she greeted them with a typical New York City safe-hug. She then introduced her friends to Hunter and asked where he was going. He quickly informed her he had no plans for the rest of the evening. To the amazement of two 40 year old men who considered themselves the last of the great Latin lovers, Ursula put her arm through Hunter’s and stated, “Then you can join us.”

  He turned and reentered Jean Georges and was greeted by the Maître d speaking French to his new friend. One of the girls was French and began to converse with Hunter and couldn’t believe he wasn’t French. The four models were from different countries. Ursula was German, Candice was French, Du Juan was from China and Omotu Bissong was from Nigeria. These women could not comprehend a man as young as Hunter conversing fluently in their native language without a pause or hesitation to choose his words, as if he spoke them each every day of his life. They weren’t surprised when he told them he had actually visited their countries except China. They must have been in Jean Georges for almost three hours talking and dining. When the waiter handed him the bill, he didn’t even look at it, he simple handed the man his Platinum Card and continued speaking with his new friends. It was almost midnight, when Hunter was normally in bed, but when the party and club scene in Manhattan is just getting started. Hunter was actually ready to say goodnight, but he didn’t resist the gentle persuasion to hard as Du Juan took one arm and Ursula took his other and led him toward the elevator. When they stepped outside Trump International all eyes turned to see just who the lucky man was in the center of four drop-dead gorgeous women. Paparrazzi were positioned outside to capture any celebrity who exited the exclusive address. Camera’s flashed as they piled into the awaiting Limousine. It wasn’t a long ride to the most happening party in Manhattan.

  The Limo soon pulled up in front of 520 Park Avenue; one of New York’s most prestigious addresses. Gregorovich Romenov, the second richest man in Russia had purchased the most expensive condominium in New York City; a $130 Million 12,000 square foot penthouse showplace. He had just completed the renovations and decorating and this was the party to be seen at. The security looked over the invitation in the hands of the four girls, but gave Hunter questioning looks, until Hunter spoke to him in Russian saying, “I was minding my own business at Jean Georges when these four accosted me and forced me to go to a party with them. If I’d known it was a Russian party I would have looked for prettier women, but one must work with what he has available.” The security man asked when he had moved here from St. Petersburg and Hunter shrugged, saying, “Unfortunately, I’m just visiting. I must go home in a week.” The big burly guard patted him on the back and informed him, “If you want to stay in America, I can do things. See me after party.”

  They exited the elevator to the penthouse and were immediately set upon by men on the prowl, literally; to Hunter’s amazement the men were even coming on to him. Candice whispered in his ear, “They think you are a model since you are with us, many of them are gay. Kiss me. He didn’t hesitate to make it clear what he was interested in, several of the men went their separate ways; the rest were busy trying to impress the models. Ursula put her arm through his and informed him, “In case there is any doubt, you’re with me. They moved away from the other three girls and left them to fend off the aggressors. Ursula guided Hunter to a balcony overlooking the city and asked if he would get her a drink. Hunter was immediately uncomfortable, but asked, “What would you like?” She informed him, I have to work tomorrow afternoon; just a glass of white wine will do fine.” He returned with her wine and an alcohol free beer for himself. She turned to him and gave him her radiant smile, saying, “Well, Prince Hunter, you are full of surprises. I thought you were cute when your Grandmother introduced you, but you are absolutely handsome tonight. By the way, she must have the best plastic surgeon in New York. She doesn’t look old enough to be your mother, much less your grandmother.” He smiled and replied, “Our family has a very good medical plan.” She began
to speak to him in German as if she were home. “I miss my family. I have an older brother about your age and a younger sister. This lifestyle can get old very quickly. I’m only twenty and I know girls my age that are already burned out.” Hunter smiled and replied, “My entire family lives a fast paced life, but somehow we still try to take time for family. Don’t let the people control your every move, I’d say at this point in your career you could make a few reasonable demands, like a trip home now and then.” Ursula reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek and grabbed his hand, saying, “Come, there is someone I want you to meet.”

  After socializing with what seemed like a hundred people as they searched for the someone in question, they finally found a large bearded man surrounded by a half dozen head-nodders, who were careful to laugh at all his jokes. Gregorovich Romenov was quick to turn his attention away from his hangers-on and giving his undivided attention to the beautiful German girl next to him. She immediately did the introductions, “Mr. Romenov, this is Prince Hunter.” She turned to Hunter saying, “Mr. Romenov is my boss, this month anyway, while I do photo shoots for a new line of fragrance being introduced to the U.S. market.” Hunter extended his hand and in his St. Petersburg Russian, began, “I appreciate the opportunity to meet a man I have heard so much about from my friends in Russia. Your new home is very beautiful.” Romenov, being a bit of a Russian snob, shook his hand firmly, saying, “I seriously doubt we share many of the same friends. I have spent little time in St. Petersburg.” What Ursula, and no doubt most Americans, did not know was that Gregorovich Romenov was a former KGB General who managed to take over the majority of the oil business in Russia along with four other KGB and Russian Army Generals. Over the years each of his partners seemed to disappear in unpleasant ways, leaving him a very rich man and close associate of Vladimir Putin. Hunter couldn’t resist name dropping to this pompous jerk and replied as if confused, “Oh, I always thought you and Colonel Vladimir Zhdanov were close for many years.” Romenov looked a bit angry but quickly regained his composure; only Hunter noticed. He then put on his best fake smile and informed Hunter, “Indeed, if you are a friend of Vladimir, you are a friend of mine. How is it you know him, personal or business?” Hunter knew he was being interrogated, but at this point he didn’t really care. He answered, “Both. He is my mentor and I was best man recently at his wedding.” Romenov, who was in his fifties smiled, saying, “Wedding, the man must be over seventy.” Hunter couldn’t resist as he added, “And currently on his honeymoon with his 27 year-old wife.”