Howard turned to his family. “I know I don’t have to ask, but I hope all of you are on board.”
Marshall Beck didn’t hesitate and grabbed his father in a tearful embrace. “Dad, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, you know that.”
Howard hadn’t hugged his son since he was a child. If shaking hands made Howard uncomfortable, hugging someone was even more difficult. Howard fought the urge to push his son out of his personal space and focused on the emotion that he’d struggled with all of his life — love. Howard began to weep; the tears exploded out of his eyes, startling him. “I’ve always loved you, son, always. I made so many mistakes with you, and I’m sorry. I was angry with you for not being more like me. You’ve always been your mother’s son. You are so much like her, full of passion and life. She worked with me every single day to try to be a good father to you. She was so patient. The only thing I ever wanted was for you to be your own man, to make something of yourself without my help. I know you always hated me for that. You thought I was denying you your birthright. I hope that you understand now that I only wanted you to step out from underneath my shadow and shine on your own.”
Marshall Beck didn’t let his father go, hugging him even tighter. “I love you so much, Dad. I finally understand what you were doing, and it worked. I built a life for myself, one that I hope you’re proud of.”
“I am, son, I am.” Howard withdrew from his son’s embrace, saying, “We have work to do, and I’m counting on you. Are you ready?”
“I’m a Beck! I’m ready for anything.”
*
Richard Dupree rode the elevator to the top floor and stepped out, unsure where he was going. He walked a few paces to his right, returned to the elevator door, and walked a few paces to his left.”
“Sir, can I be of assistance?”
Richard was not one to be caught off guard. He spun around and looked to find no one there.
“Sir, may I help you with something?” spoke a proper, British voice.
“Who is that?” said Richard.
“My name is Hal; I believe we have met before. The last time you encountered me I had taken control of a robot.”
Richard smiled and shook his head. “Yes, of course. I was trying to find the dormitory wing.”
“Sir, follow the corridor to your right and take the first right into the next hallway. You should not have any trouble finding the dormitory wing at that point.”
“Thank you, Hal. I appreciate it.”
“Of course, sir.”
Richard followed the directions given to him by the A.I. and found the dormitory wing. Once there, he encountered the elderly man who had been looking after his son.
“Morris, I’m glad to see you.”
Morris shook his hand. “Me, too. My wife and I have been talking to your son. I have some news to share with you that might be upsetting at first, but you’ll quickly see the good in it.”
“He doesn’t remember me, does he?”
Morris slowly took Richard’s hands into his, “Son, I’ve been a pastor for over forty years. I’ve counseled many families facing loss and heartache. Whatever happened to that boy when he was little, he has no memory of it at all. I’ve seen it many times before with children. The good Lord knows what their innocent minds can handle. Whatever happened to him, the Lord saw fit to keep it from him.” Richard hung his head in misery and fought back tears. Morris squeezed his hands to get his attention. “Now son, the good Lord brought the two of us together for a reason. If you made mistakes and want to repent, the Father will hear your prayers.”
Tears ran down Richard’s face as he smiled up at Morris. “You don’t understand. You got it all wrong. My tears are tears of joy. I get a chance to start over fresh with Timothy. The memories that are blocked from his mind are of me killing a horrible man who was hurting him. I was protecting him; I saved him. I know I made a horrible mistake that took him from me and caused him to forget me. If I could do it all over again, things would be different. I would never do anything that would drive him away from me.”
“Richard, I’ve been asking him about his father. He doesn’t remember your face, can’t describe you. He does have memories of the love you had for him — a love you still have for him today.”
“Is he ready to know the truth?”
“I think that if we take it slow and do it together, he will understand. The boy trusts me. He’s considered me his grandfather for many years. And my son, he, he…” Morris fell to his knees and cried out in agony. “What my son did to you, what he did to your daughter! I beg your forgiveness! I beg Almighty God that He grant you a kind heart, that…”
“Morris! Please! Stand up! You have nothing to apologize for!” Richard helped the pastor to his feet. “I have nothing but gratitude in my heart for you. My children’s mother probably exposed them to all kinds of horrible things, things that did little to raise them up to be good people. I’m sure you and your wife have done more good in their lives than she ever did. You will always have my thanks for that. We don’t ever need to mention your son again.”
“Richard, you’re a kind and wise man, and my wife and I are blessed to know you.”
“I’d like see my son, if you think he’s ready.”
“Yes, I won’t stop you from raising your boy, but I truly think he needs time. Let him get to know you and develop a relationship with him before you tell him that you’re his father. He needs time.”
“Sir, I’ll be with my son. We have all the time in the world.”
*
Max led Elizabeth by the hand to their room in the dormitory wing. It was basically a very nice hotel room, complete with a bathroom and kitchenette. Max didn’t care about the kitchen or the bathroom; the only thing on his mind was the bed.
Elizabeth clawed at his shirt and kissed his neck. Max gently took her hands and placed them at her sides. He planted tender kisses on her lips…her cheeks…her hair. Lovingly holding her face in his trembling hands, Max gently closed her eyelids with kisses before leading her over to the bed. Locking eyes with Elizabeth, Max began to take off his clothes. As she began unbuttoning her shirt, Max shook his head. He had waited so long for this moment and wanted the pleasure of undressing her himself. Wearing nothing but a smile, Max moved toward the bed, his bulging erection a testament to his feelings for Elizabeth. Her eyes widened and her pulse soared at the sight of him.
Max slowly climbed into the bed next to Elizabeth. He unbuckled her pants, removing them quickly. He took his time unfastening each button on her shirt; she helped him take her arms out of the sleeves. Elizabeth smiled up at him with love and passion in her eyes and pointed to the clasp on the front of her bra. As Max reached down and undid the clasp, her large, perfect breasts spilled out into Max’s hands. He gently caressed them and lightly kissed each one. Placing a hand on each of her hips, Max slowly removed Elizabeth’s panties. His fingers blazed a path from her feet…to her knees…to her thighs, before finally making contact with the inviting wetness that awaited between them. Elizabeth cried out in ecstasy when Max touched her.
Max lowered himself atop Elizabeth, their bare skin sizzling between them. Running his fingers along the side of her breast, Max was amazed by the softness of her. As he kissed her neck, Elizabeth tilted her head down, pressing her lips to his. They kissed deeply and passionately for several minutes, tongues clashing as the tension continued to build. Elizabeth never spoke, but it was clear to both of them that she wanted him inside of her. Max granted her wish and slowly entered her. They fell into an easy rhythm, as Elizabeth’s hips rose to meet every thrust. Soon she could no longer hold on, and she cried out as her climax enveloped her. Max was overcome with passion, burying himself deep within her until he, too, was spent.
“I love you so much, Elizabeth. I want to marry you.”
“It’s about time, my love, what took you so long to ask?”
*
Days turned into weeks as more and more people arrive
d at Beck Castle. The first hallway of the dormitory wing reached capacity and the second one would be full in a matter of months. Plans had already been drawn up to convert a storage wing into dormitory space. The living quarters wouldn’t be as comfortable, but comfort was not what drew people to Beck Castle. What brought them there was hope.
Soldiers that had been stationed in the Iranian Theater swelled the ranks of the Unified National Guard. Every major city was on lockdown. Curfews were enforced with deadly results for those who disobeyed. Checkpoints were set up along the Interstate Highway System, and every single vehicle was searched. The Second Amendment had been eradicated along with the rest of the Bill of Rights. Every weapon was confiscated. Those who cooperated and remained silent were allowed to continue. Those who protested were detained and made to work slave labor. Those who tried to defend their right to bear arms had their guns pried from their cold, dead hands. The Regional Governors ruled with an iron fist. Violent crimes and theft weren’t tolerated; anyone guilty of committing these crimes was publicly executed.
The people had no means of discourse with their leaders. They couldn’t gather together in peaceful protest or submit grievances in an attempt to right a wrong. Once the Internet was restored, it was closely monitored and censored. People quickly learned that they could not circulate anything online that resembled anti-government media. A nation full of people who had spent their entire lives taking freedom for granted desperately wanted it restored and were helpless to do so. Defiance against President Sterling was a one-way ticket to a slave labor camp or a quick and public execution.
Regional Governor Jackson Butler had his work cut out for him. He did an efficient job of restoring power to the area affected by The Pulse. His solution was simple – he brought in every generator he could find, both large and small. The former state of California had made great strides in the previous decade bringing solar power into the power grid. Jackson Butler gladly moved the majority of the solar panels from the West Coast over to the East Coast. He considered it a “reallocation of resources.” Angry citizens of the West Coast called it theft; at least they said so behind closed doors. If Regional Governor Roberto Jimenez caught wind of such talk, he would not respond with kindness.
Word of the events at Beck Castle spread across the country in hushed whispers and private meetings in people’s homes. At first it was treated like a myth or an urban legend. President Sterling told his Regional Governors to spread word amongst the people that the tales of Beck Castle were treasonous lies. Howard Beck was working in a coal mine sixteen hours a day. He was not in some make believe secret bunker offering solace to anyone. The crazy old man hated to be around people. Tall tales of him running a luxury hotel for thousands of people were foolish lies. The propaganda was effective for the citizens of the United American Empire. Slowly, people began to forget about the rumor and went about their miserable lives. The ones that remained hopeful sacrificed everything to find Beck Castle. Men and women all over the country who were willing to give their lives for the restoration of democracy made their way to Beck Castle.
Every citizen who entered Beck Castle was carefully screened for security and medical purposes. Max had been appointed as the Constable of Beck Castle and with Elizabeth’s help, oversaw the screening process. Howard Beck had his own personal screening process as well. Every person that entered the Castle was a candidate to fight in the coming war against Simon Sterling. Three times a week Howard met in the conference room with Richard Dupree, Maxwell Harris, Elizabeth Reid, and his family to review the candidates. Richard spent every free moment he had looking for his daughter. With assistance from Hal, Howard patiently planned the details of the war that was to come. The most brilliant mind on the planet spent every waking moment preparing to restore the United States of America to her former glory.
A long and bloody war was on the horizon. Howard Beck, Richard Dupree, and Maxwell Harris were willing to fight to their last breath for victory.
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Except from RESISTANCE
Enjoy the following sneak peek of Book Two in the New America series, RESISTANCE, coming summer of 2013.
CHAPTER ONE
President Howard Beck was sitting in the command center of Beck Castle. The giant, spherical monitor filling the room in front of him displayed a map of the Pacific States of America. The eccentric billionaire was the leader of the former states of Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and the Dakotas. When the former United States of America collapsed eighteen months prior, Howard eyed the territory as one that he could easily control and did so with considerable success. Howard despised the role that had been thrust upon him and hated the mere concept of politics. He felt he only needed to accomplish two things with the territory. First, the territory needed to be secured against the Unified American Empire. Second, they had to build up a fighting force of dedicated patriots to topple the UAE and reclaim the broken country they had lost in the collapse of 2027. The idea of establishing a government inside the territory never occurred to Howard. His intentions were to quickly defeat the UAE and simply put things back the way they were before the collapse. He felt that declaring the territory to be a sovereign nation and holding democratic elections was a sign of permanence. Howard was looking for a quick fix to set things right.
Six months after the collapse, it was evident that the quick fix he was looking for would never come. Fighting to bring the United States back to its former glory would take much longer than Howard had originally anticipated. His closest advisors convinced him that the fifteen million residents of the territory needed a cause to fight for, a patriotic symbol they could believe in. Above all, they needed leadership. Believing it to be a complete waste of time, Howard reluctantly agreed to silence his complaining and let his people organize a democratic election. Fifteen representatives would be elected, each serving as the voice for a million people. Each of the seven states would have two senators. And most importantly, a president and a vice-president would be elected. Howard silently predicted that the election would be a failure and hardly anyone would bother to vote in the midst of chaos and turmoil. Much to his surprise, a staggering eighty-four percent of eligible voters turned out in droves to cast their vote. The primary reason for Howard’s failed prediction was that not one person had tossed his hat in the ring to be president. He quietly scoffed at the process and laughed at the idea of a democratic government when not one person had the desire to hold the top job. Once all the votes were cast and counted, Howard Beck was the sole write-in candidate for the office of President of the Pacific States of America. In fact, Howard’s name was written on over ninety percent of all ballots cast.
Howard refused to believe it had happened. Marshall, Howard’s adult son, broke the news to him over dinner. Howard preferred to eat alone in his command center at Beck Castle; however, when his son starting bringing his dinner plate into the command center to eat with his father, Howard felt he couldn’t very well turn his own son away.
“What? Are you serious? If you’re joking with me, son, I don’t find it the least bit funny.”
“Dad, it’s not a joke. You’re the first president of the Pacific States of America.”
“The Pacific States of America? Now I know you’re joking. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Dad, I know better than to
joke with you.”
“Well, it better be a joke because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna be the president of anything, especially not with a silly name like that. Why did no one bother to ask me for my opinion in the matter?”
“Really, Dad? You bit the head off anyone who even mentioned the election and made it perfectly clear you wanted nothing to do with any of it.”
“And I still don’t want anything to do with it. Why on earth would anyone want me to be the president?”
Marshall Beck, along with most of the world, considered his father to be one of the smartest people on the face of the earth, his genius often compared to that of Albert Einstein. Howard Beck had long ago been diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, a form of high functioning autism. While his condition was thought to be the driving force of his focused genius, it did come with its shortcomings. Marshall’s father was completely and utterly lost when it came to social interaction. Prior to the collapse, Howard spent over two years in complete seclusion in his fortress in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. His only companion was his digital assistant, Hal, the first artificial intelligence the world had known.
Marshall slowly shook his head with a loving smile. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“You’re a hero to these people. They consider you their savior. No one ran for the office of president because you are the only person they want for the job.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Dad, you.”
“That’s not… I never wanted…”
“You may not want it, Dad, but they want you.”
“That’s ridiculous! Plenty of others could do a better job! Dupree or Harris would be much better suited for the job! I wouldn’t have the first clue what to do!”
Marshall leaned forward, put his hand on his father’s knee, and waited for him to focus his brilliant mind on his son. “Dad, you won’t be doing it on your own. You’ll have plenty of people to help you.”
“I don’t like this at all. I’ve got so much to do, no time for this nonsense! How about you take the job?”
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