The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  Daytona was unable see the target of Elizabeth’s finger, but he knew to whom she was referring. He just wanted to act the part of curious.

  “Those people,” she continued, “the ones gathering near the helipad. Who are they and why are they still alive?”

  Daytona shrugged.

  “Albert, my dear, what were my exact words?”

  Albert’s right eyebrow arched slightly as he recited Elizabeth’s orders. “Take care of every man, woman, and child, every Marine, every Secret Serviceman, every government employee. Kill everyone and burn everything.”

  “Thank you. Now, Daytona, what part of that did you not understand?” she said, leaning into the camera. “You did relay my exact orders to The Guard, correct?”

  The Guard, Elizabeth Baron’s private security force, comprised the best ex-military operators from around the globe. Some expatriates, some mercenaries, some soldiers of fortune, the men in The Guard had to possess a minimum eight years of combat experience in special forces positions to be considered for an interview. From there, appointments were given based off resumes, recommendations, and the answers to questions such as, “Would you be able to kill unarmed civilians?”

  The Guardsmen were killers, loyal only to the checks they received and the people who signed them.

  “Yes, and they did exactly as ordered. They killed everyone, destroyed the bunker, and set ‘natural looking fires’ to the refugee camp before leaving- hence, the mass death and burning structures. Simon is leading the ground team- and before you say anything, I know how you feel about Si, but he’s my number two for a reason. I trust him. He has orders to take care of anyone they see on their way out of Blue Springs…”

  Daytona paused and peered out the window.

  “Those people must be latecomers and no one of importance. Certainly no one who saw anything incriminating.”

  Shanna Finley came fully out of her daze. Forehead pressed against the window, she checked, but the helipad and Craig West were out of view. Then a furious passion came over her and she attacked Daytona again, screaming, “Craig will come after me! He is going to kill you! He is going to kill all of you!”

  As Daytona and Shanna wrestled around the cabin, Albert asked for clarification. “Craig? Is she talking about Sergeant Major Craig West?”

  Daytona managed to pin Shanna’s hands behind her back. His massive grip bound her wrists together, while his free hand covered her mouth. To Albert and Liz, it appeared that Daytona was subduing her violent outburst, but in fact, Daytona was trying to keep a truth hidden.

  But all it took was one word for the truth to be set free. Shanna bit Daytona’s finger and shouted, “Yes!”

  Daytona could feel the icy stare from his mother. No longer able to conceal the truth, he released the hand covering Shanna’s mouth.

  “All of you,” Shanna vociferated. “You and your company will be held responsible for what you’ve done! It doesn’t matter where you go, West will find you! You’re all criminals and you’ll be tried and convicted! Global genocide-”

  Two sounds interrupted the tirade. One from Daytona’s closed fist that connected with Shanna’s right cheek, knocking her out instantly. The second from the soft thump as her head settled on the leather cushion.

  “Thank you,” Albert said, rolling his eyes.

  “For what?” Daytona asked, back turned to the camera.

  “For quieting her. She was becoming rather annoying.”

  “Daytona,” Liz said, tapping her fingers together, “I am waiting on your explanation, and it better be very, very good.”

  “The ones in vehicles, I don’t know who they were, but the man who arrived at the helipad...that was Craig West.”

  Liz and Albert stared into the camera- their faces as emotionless as their bodies were motionless.

  It had been almost one year since they last heard Sergeant Major Craig West's name, a name that should have been followed with the letters R.I.P.

  “I thought you said you killed West back in New Bedford?” Albert finally declared, recollecting the exact memory and his brother’s report verbatim. "You said, ‘Sergeant Major Craig West has been eliminated and his body disposed of. The rest of the virus and all documents pertaining to the Fareshtegan-eh Marg operation were destroyed.’”

  “I don’t know how he could possibly be alive!” Daytona declared, body tensing. “I shot him in the back twice and watched him fall into the Atlantic Ocean. He should have bled out! Or froze to death! Ask Simon if you don’t believe me! He was there! There was no way West could have survived!”

  “Obviously, hedidsurvive,” Liz said through clenched teeth.

  Albert crossed his legs. “This is what happens when you let children run around unsupervised.”

  The words set off Daytona’s anger. “Albert, one more word, one more subtle insult, and I swear I will-”

  “Shut up!” Liz snapped. Her eyes pierced into the camera with such ferocity that Daytona’s threat stopped immediately. Liz’s expressionless face soon morphed into one driven by fury. “I can’t believe how long I have tolerated your lackadaisical attitude, your constant insubordination and lying, and your continual fuck-ups,” she said, emphasizing the curse word.

  Then came the real demoralization.

  “You are useless. You are a bitter failure. You couldn't kill West in Canada, couldn't locate him on the run, couldn't kill him in combat, and obviously, couldn't kill him with two bullets...”

  Daytona’s ears listened but began to tone down Liz’s voice. His eyes, too, wandered and landed on Albert’s image. His brother’s faint, self-pleasing smile said enough.

  Albert badly wanted to laugh, taunt and contribute to Liz’s tirade, but Liz was never one to be interrupted, let alone now.

  The passion driving the disciplinary scorning settled after some time, but just in time for Daytona to hear the last bit.

  “At least you got rid of the only evidence...”

  Daytona’s eyes darted back to his mother’s. Fortunately, for his sake, it wasn’t a question.

  “Now, Daytona, is there anything else that you have lied about or forgot to mention? Anything at all?”

  Daytona’s lips remained pursed. His imagination played out what would happen had he answered and answered truthfully. “No.”

  “Good,” she replied quickly and simply, but then continued her verbal attack, hitting Daytona deeper. “You always were a cocky, arrogant, self-serving, borderline useless brute of a man who apparently can't get anything right. I should have just left you in the hospital. I don’t even think an adoption agency would take you-”

  When Albert blurted out with laughter, Daytona could no longer contain his emotions. “Ahh!” he bellowed, slamming his fist on the side of the metal interior and denting a section of thin steel.

  Following the release, Daytona’s neck twitched involuntarily. Instinctively, he reached for the tin can in his pants’ cargo pocket.

  He turned away from the camera, pulled out a small white pill, and placed it under his tongue. His eyes rolled back, and his breaths were taken solely through the nostrils. After a moment, he calmed himself and returned to the screen where Liz had been calling out his name.

  “Hold on!” he roared.

  Albert gasped. No one ever ordered Elizabeth Baron to “hold on.”

  Liz withdrew, but her scornful features remained.

  As to make up for his disappointment, Daytona pushed a button next to the camera. The screen split into thirds, now including a face shot from the helmet of the helicopter pilot.

  “Miller,” Daytona said into a microphone that had a direct line into the pilot's headphones.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Turn around, and get Si on the radio. Tell him to meet us back at Blue Springs.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Daytona pulled back the slide of his pistol only far enough to ensure that a round was chambered.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

>   Daytona looked out the window back toward the flames. “I’m going back to kill West, Mother. I might be cocky, arrogant, and self-serving, but I’m not useless, and I’m not a disappointment! I can sure as hell get shit done! I’ll prove it! I’ll bring you West’s fucking head in a box!”

  Liz raised an eyebrow, considering the redemptive proposal, but it was Albert who maintained a definitive position.

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?” Daytona whined. “Five minutes! That’s all I need!”

  “The window has closed.”

  “Fuck your window, Albert,” Daytona spat. He stared into the camera but his attention and words were for Liz. “If you don’t want me on the ground, fine. Just, at least let me send a few drones-”

  “Albert, explain.”

  “Of course, Mother,” Albert began, uncrossing his legs. “First, by window, I’m not talking about a metaphorical timeframe for you to kill Sergeant Major West. I am, in fact, referring to the geospatial positioning of the remaining United States government satellites and their real-time feeds being sent to the other bunkers...”

  Annoyed, Albert set down his drink to pick up an electronic computer tablet. He tapped the screen and dragged his finger until he found what he was looking for.

  “In exactly eight minutes and fifteen-seconds, the first satellite will come into orbit and the camera will be able to capture Blue Springs. The whole point in the bodies and bullets was to corroborate our story that infection had taken over the facility. It will be difficult to explain a gun battle, let alone a calculated drone strike on the most secure of government bunkers...”

  Daytona tried to get a word in, but Albert kept talking.

  “In short, your return would not only be observed and recorded, but any assault and/or survivors’ accounts would at the very least raise unnecessary suspicion, and most certainly would discredit the story we give to the remaining government officials. There is nothing West can do anyway. He is only one man, and he has no idea where we are heading, much less, what our plans are. Additionally, any evidence linking LIFE or ourselves to the outbreak has been destroyed.”

  Daytona recalled his interaction with West at the Wet Net. How he essentially explained the plans. Maybe not everything or Ambrosia's true place in it all, but he did disclose how LIFE engineered the infection, and how they stood to make trillions.

  “What’s wrong? What are you thinking?” Liz asked, picking up on Daytona's nonverbal cues. “If there is something we need to know, now is the time to tell.”

  Daytona quickly and smoothly recovered. “I’m...I’m just pissed I can’t go back and finish West. I just want him dead.”

  “Good, go on, Albert.”

  “Furthermore, President Tufase is dead or dying,” he continued but paused. “Although, it might behoove us to double check with Daytona, Mother, since my dear brother has manipulated information before-”

  “Fuck you,” Daytona cursed. “You all saw me shoot President Douchebag in the stomach. The Guard took out the rest of the Marines and Secret Service.”

  “Yes, but the President was escorted into the safe room,” Albert interrupted.

  “Yes,but just him, and like I said, we killed the rest of the Secret Service and blew the shit outta the comm center and medical bay. So there is no way for him to get medical attention or send out a distress call.” Daytona turned and raised his chin at Shanna and finished, “She’s the only one who knows what really happened, andIhad the foresight to keep her alive to figure out who else knows what.”

  “Bravo, brother. Glad to know you take such delight in the minute accomplishments,” Albert mocked, but the jeer went unnoticed. “Mother, as was so eloquently stated, the communications equipment at Eagle’s Landing has been destroyed, and Craig West has no evidence linking LIFE to the events. Additionally, it is still on record that West is one of the terrorists responsible for the outbreak, and no one would believe his word. Based on known variables, I calculate a zero point zero, zero, zero, zero, eight percent chance that West will discover our whereabouts and even interfere with our plans. At this point, his existence is inconsequential.”

  “It would be zero percent if you would just let me go back and kill him,” Daytona mumbled, but apparently louder than he thought.

  “You would probably just mess up killing West, again. Or end up getting yourself killed. After all, West did get the better of your knife fight. Speaking of, you should count yourself lucky that you have a brother who can synthesize a healing agent as I did.”

  Again, Daytona clenched his teeth. He’s a fucking asshole but he’s right. Whatever Albert gave me healed faster and better than anything natural could have, he thought but said, "Am I supposed to say thank you?"

  "You could say it,” Albert replied, fixing himself a second cocktail, “but I know you wouldn't mean it.”

  Liz allowed herself a slight smirk for the bickering. “Now that we are in front of this debacle, this is what is going to happen. Daytona, you will go back to HQ and wait for my orders. I'll deal with you later. When I return, we are going to have a long conversation about your place in my world. At this point, I’m not against sending you overseas to work under Lizzy.”

  “I heard she might need more manual labor for the towers,” added Albert.

  “I think you know exactly how much of a demotion that would be...”

  Daytona knew. He also knew the only job after that demotion would be the digging of his own grave.

  “Especially with phase two underway, and speaking of, Albert, where we are at?”

  Albert used his finger to stir the cocktail, took a sip and replied, “I am flying southwest toward the Farm…”

  The Farm, a coined pun for LIFE’s Pharmaceutical research and manufacturing plant, was located near central Nevada. Before the outbreak, the facility was responsible for the production of over-the-counter drugs, prescription medications, and global disease vaccinations. Since, the Farm’s operational designation had shifted to the production of one item: Ambrosia.

  “After a stopover for fuel and based on the current atmospheric conditions, I should be arriving between one twenty-five and one thirty-five. Once there, I will meet withMs. Arnold...”

  Dr. Beth Arnold was the scientist in charge of the Farm- strictly for the times when Albert was absent- and Daytona knew how much Albert despised her, mostly for her inability to adequately run the facility exactly as Albert desired.

  Daytona did find humor in the fact that Albert refused to acknowledge or refer to Beth by her earned title of “doctor.”

  “I will check the progress andpersonally oversee the final stage and delivery,” Albert continued, emphasizing the word personally for Daytona’s benefit. “Furthermore, I still have the Ambrosia that was supposed to be administered to the officials at Blue Springs...”

  Albert tapped on one of the metal cases that housed the vials. “What do you want done with them, Mother?”

  “Use your own judgment.”

  “I will, and I will have an update later on in the evening.”

  Liz appeared visibly pleased, rather less frustrated with the situation. “At least I can count on one of my sons to follow through.”

  The statement was enough, but the glare was overkill. Still, Daytona refrained from speaking.

  “After the test on the U.S. population, we will be ready to ship internationally and officially end ‘Purification.’ Once Ambrosia goes live, the third and final phase will be underway...”

  “Rebirth,” Albert muttered, the word sliding off his tongue with orgasmic satisfaction.

  “I want to know where our international subordinates stand and any and all construction details. I will be telecommuting with Lizzy later on to answer these questions,” stated Liz.

  At the sound of Lizzy's name, both brothers banded together.

  “Lizzy’s a self-righteous cunt,” Daytona scoffed.

  Visibly vexed, Albert slid a hand over his hair. “Oh, I almost for
got abouther.”

  “It’s not like she’s ever had anyreal responsibility.”

  “Not to mention accumulating meaningless college degrees doesn’t make her intelligent, just smart enough to continue playing around on your dime.”

  In their family it was no secret how much the brothers despised Lizzy, and this wasn’t the first occasion their blunt hate was vocalized in front of Liz.

  “Your sister has a certain role to play, as we all do. Now, if you boys are quite finished, there are more important matters at hand.”

  “Indeed there are. What are you going to do, Mother? There is still the matter of damage control, and the thousands of dead people and government officials, not to mention the fact we just assassinated the President of the United States.”

  Liz’s nostrils flared in annoyance. “It isn’t so much of a problem, rather a slight hiccup in our plans. It is unfortunate that Ms. Finley found out and told the President, but she will only be alive long enough for us to ascertain what else and who else she told. But no matter, the President was a puppet. Many of his predecessors had been bought and paid for with each term.”

  Daytona had heard the speech countless times. In his head, he recited verbatim, Liz’s words.

  “The real power comes in strategic placement of key officials. Certain Members of Congress for their votes, Chief Justices for their rulings, military leaders for their ability to promote wars. You don’t have to make the decisions, just own the people who make them...but to answer your question, Albert, I will be paying a visit to the Vice President. I have kept tabs on which officials are still alive and where they are.”

  “Yes, we know, mother, you have informants everywhere.”

  “Don’t sass me, boy.”

  “I wasn’t sassing you. On the contrary, I find your spy network to be a point of pride.”

  “You know what I always say. Everyone has a price. If you can't buy them with money, you can make them pay with their life."

  Albert raised his glass. "The Liz Baron way."

  "What will you tell the Vice President?" asked Daytona.

  “I will make up a tragic story about ‘what happened’ at Blue Springs, and any and all fallout such as the destruction of the bunker was the result of and necessary for our getaway. I will assure him and the other cabinet members that Ambrosia is still set to be released and everything is going according to plan.”