The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “What is that? What can possible make this situation better?”

  “Confidence.”

  Curiously, Dean gazed at Joe. “Confidence?”

  “Oh, yeah. I can’t stop the Society from sending three missiles and taking out everything we have,” Joe spoke softly. “But I have three sons who with everything they have, can stop the Society from taking out Ellen.”

  ^^^^

  The short but in-depth agreement had been electronically sent over a dozen times. In the Communication Room, on the screen over Danny Hoi’s shoulder, Joe read the final changes. He gave a nod for Danny to send it through.

  “Joe,” George’s voice carried over the speaker phone. “What is going on?”

  “It’s on its way.”

  “I told you no more changes!”

  “And I told you I wasn’t satisfied.”

  “I gave in on too much.”

  “So did we. Just read my final goddamn change.”

  Georg huffed, “This is it. You make one more change I don’t like, fuck it.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. He had some nervousness that tried to hold in. The agreement was good and workable. He wished he didn’t have to make it at all, but at least, there were limitations and assurances that added a sense of fairness to the whole thing, fairness that three sailing missiles would not bring.

  In the waiting silence, Joe looked at the agreement on the screen. It was so basic, so blunt.

  War monitors would be selected to insure both parties follow the rules set forth.

  Those war monitors will live in the other’s jurisdiction for the duration. They will not be treated as prisoners and will be given free, but monitored, access to their homes to give progress reports.

  At the next day’s dawn, the exchange of war monitors will be made.

  In the event the rules are broken, either side can initiate, without warning and without limitations, any and all means of war necessary.

  Child for child. Only Joe’s sons can represent Joe’s interest against the Society.

  Only the Slagel sons can intercept any and all attempts by the Society to get Ellen.

  Beginnings cannot send any aid.

  The Society can only utilize the man power they have in the border camps and in Minnesota.

  The Society cannot send anymore aid.

  Following the old world Geneva conference war code, no attacks can commence before 8:00 am or after midnight.

  The ‘life for life’ pursuit ceases when Ellen’s life is taken or her ousting sentence is complete on January 23rd at noon, whichever occurs first.

  From his read of the screen, Joe’s heart dropped when the single ring of the fax machine broke the tension filled silence of the Communication Room.

  Danny swiveled his chair a bit. “It’s coming through,” he sighed out. “It’s signed.”

  Every man in the room released the breath they seemingly had held for the past three hours.

  “Got it?” George asked.

  “Yes.” Joe lifted his pen. He stared at George’s signature. “I’m signing it now.” Over the line that read, ‘Joseph A. Slagel, President of the United Western Alliance’, Joe placed his signature. He handed the paper back to Danny Hoi to fax through. “It’s on its way back.”

  “Then it’s done,” George stated.

  “It’s done.”

  “Good.” George’s voice spoke gruff, raspy, and with a hint of exasperation. “I have to tell you, this shows how good of a leader you really are. Both of us actually. We are choosing the lives of our people over our own flesh and blood, so day after tomorrow . . . let the game . . . begin.”

  THE GAME

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  January 14th

  Ellen gazed up from the chair and watched as Robbie walked in the room. “Your hair is getting so long.”

  “I know. How are you?. You didn’t sleep again last night. I’m worried, El. I’m really worried. What can I do?”

  “You’re doing it.”

  “It’s not enough,” Robbie said. “You know what, though? In a little over a week, we’ll be home.”

  Softly and emotionally, Ellen chuckled and closed her eyes. Her head turned.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this.”

  “I’m not depressed,” Ellen said.

  “You didn’t let me say it.”

  “Was that what you were gonna say?” she asked.

  “Well . . . yeah.”

  Smiling, Ellen looked down at Robbie. “It’s not depression.”

  “Then it’s missing everyone. You’ll be back to your life before long. Everything will be back to normal. I wish I could do something to help you right now. I’m beginning to think . . .” Slowly he stopped up. “Nothing, right now, will help you pull through what you are . . .” Quickly, in a jolt, Robbie spun to the monitors as the sirens blared.

  Ellen jumped from her seat. “I knew it. The first nice day and . . .” She watched Robbie silence the alarm. “They’re coming through the access route.”

  “They’re pulling up now.” Robbie walked to the living room ahead of Ellen.

  “Pulling up?” she asked as she followed him. “Who is sneaking in to see us?

  Robbie peered through the curtain then walked to the door. “I have a feeling they aren’t trying to sneak, not with a truck that size. I wonder who it is.”

  Curious about the truck she heard, Ellen peeked through the curtains.

  A single step onto the porch and when Robbie watched the truck stop, he smiled. His mouth opened to call for Ellen but he didn’t have to.

  The slam of the screen porch door was immediately followed by the loud, long scream Ellen released and the pounding of her running footsteps as she charged forth. “Frank!’

  In the cab of the huge military truck, Frank lost all breath. “Oh my God.”

  “Go get her big brother,” Hal instructed.

  Biting his bottom lip with a grin, Frank flung open the truck door and left it open as he raced full speed to Ellen.

  Frank didn’t have to go too far when Ellen slammed her body, with a leap, right into his. His mouth parted and let out a near silent shriek. His arms wrapped tightly around her and Frank lifted Ellen from the ground, his heavy breathing chest pressed to hers.

  “Oh my God,” He rasped out as he ran his hands up her back and to her face. Still clenching tightly, he had to pull her back to look. “Oh my God.” His fingers spread the entire circumference of her face and through the biggest of smiles, Frank kissed her. “I love you,” he breathed out outward pulling in excitement as his lips pressed against her. “Oh, God, I missed you.” Again he kissed her. “I missed you.”

  Scratching his head with an innocent look and a smile upon his face, Robbie walked toward Frank and Ellen. “Um, hey Frank.”

  “Robbie,” Frank said through his reunion with Ellen. He lifted his hand in a brief wave but never took his eyes or mouth far from Ellen.

  With another look of wonder and then a shrug, Robbie grinned when Hal stepped around the front of the truck. “Hey.”

  “What is this?” Hal scoffed. “Do I not get more?” He opened his arms

  “I’m not gonna kiss you, Hal.”

  Hal laughed. “No? Well, I’m kissing you.” His hands landed with sting to Robbie’s cheeks and Hal yanked Robbie forward, kissed him with a smack, and then embraced his brother. “How are you?”

  “Good.” Robbie gave an extra squeeze. “This is a shock.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Hal released the embrace.

  The corner of Robbie’s mouth raised in a curious smile. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . .” Hal put his arm around Robbie and started to walk toward the house. “I can use a cup of coffee right now. Frank and I have been out since three this morning . . .” He moved Robbie by Ellen and Frank. “Let them go. I’ll explain inside before we take some things from the truck.”

  “Say, Hal?” Robbie stopped walking and looked back. �
��That truck is pretty big. And . . . well, pretty loaded.”

  “Yes, yes, it is.”

  “Are you two on your way somewhere?” Robbie asked.

  “Yes, we are. Here,” Hal answered, just wanting to get inside.

  “Here?” Robbie laughed as he followed Hal to the door. “Why do we need all that stuff?”

  “Oh.” Hal opened the door. “For the Game.”

  “The Game?”

  “Yes. Starting tomorrow, for the next eight days . . .” Hal smiled just before going inside. “Six hundred and twenty-three Society soldiers will be trying to kill you, me, Frank, and Ellen.”

  “Oh.” Robbie nodded. Just as the screen door closed and Robbie reached to open it., He froze, spun around, looked at the truck, and said, ‘oh, shit’. Then after the very brief second of shock, Robbie smiled. “Cool.”

  ^^^^

  Another crash of a dropped beaker not only drew Dean from his thoughts, but made him stop again. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t work. He slid himself to a stool in the lab, grateful for the fact that what he spilled wasn’t important and he did what he had been doing all morning, thought of the Game.

  The envisioning of Ellen being chased by soldier after soldier at every turn gnawed at him, but there was something else that kicked in his gut as well. It was the fact that he had to sit there while Frank, of all people, was with Ellen.

  Again.

  How did it happen so often? How did Frank always end up with the upper hand? It never failed. Dean had to keep swaying his thoughts away from Frank being alone with Ellen to Frank protecting Ellen. That was why he was out there. Even though before he left, when Dean tried to speak to him, Frank insisted he would use the time with Ellen to get her away from Dean.

  Dean felt that was so wrong. The Game wasn’t the means of a permanent reunion of Frank and Ellen, nor was it an opportunity to drudge up old attitudes and rivalries. He didn’t want it to be like that and he wanted to send Frank beyond the wall on good terms, so Dean rushed out in the middle of the night to say his farewell.

  “Bring her back, Frank. Please.” All Dean was trying to convey was his concern, nothing else.

  “Oh, I will, Dean,” Frank arrogantly replied. “Make no mistake, I will bring her back home. But more than ever, she’ll be back home with me.”

  Why did Frank have to respond like that, Dean wondered. Why couldn’t he just say ‘I will’ and leave it at that. More damage could be done to his marriage by Frank than any damage done to Ellen by the Society. As soon as Dean hit that thought process, a sense of ‘less worry’ hit him. What was he concerned about? What was the real danger? Yes, Ellen would be chased and hunted down, as George put it, but Ellen was out there with Frank, Hal, and Robbie.

  He had to admit if he himself had to handpick three individuals to undertake the task, Frank, Hal, and Robbie would be the only choice. In knowing that, Dean knew if Frank was going to make his attempt to steal Ellen, then there was nothing Dean could do. At least Frank was with Ellen. Dean would rather fight to save his marriage upon Ellen’s return than to fight dealing with never having her return.

  Cutting off the unnecessary comments to Frank’s last remark to him, Dean replayed, in his mind, the only parts he needed to hear. ‘Make no mistake, Dean. I will bring her back home’.

  Dean took heart in the fact that if anyone could knock the odds, defeat the unbeatable, and bring Ellen back unscathed, that anyone would and could only be . . . Frank.

  ^^^^

  “How is your head, sir?” Bertha handed George a wash cloth as he stood outside the small military truck.

  The damp cloth touched upon his scratched head and George jolted some. “Fine. Damn it. What the hell was that?”

  “An ambush.”

  “Callahan.” George lifted a finger. “I’m not an idiot. Let’s try this again. Who the hell was that?”

  “They don’t really have a name, sir. They are our problem town located in Lodi.”

  “Why haven’t we wiped them out?” George asked.

  “There’s too much to worry about.”

  “Christ.” He dabbed his bleed head again. “We have cavalry on horses and now on Harley’s?”

  Bertha only shrugged.

  “When this Game is over, I want that town wiped out and destroyed without a trace.”

  “I understand,” Bertha nodded. “However, wouldn’t that be a similar situation to what we’re dealing with now? I mean, you and I are on the way to a war game, a game that was derived out of the fact we couldn’t just blow up Beginnings. Isn’t destroying Lodi the same thing?’

  George grumbled. “I’m not a bleeding heart.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “So why do I have to project the Good Samaritan?”

  “It’s not a Good Samaritan image sir. It’s the fact that you have to project good leadership. You need that to have the faith and trust of your people. You can’t control the country if you don’t have that.”

  “Fine. How about this? How about after the Game, we give the town of Lodi a choice. Get the hell out of this side of the country or die. How’s that?” George tossed the rag.

  “That . . . that might be better.”

  George grumbled, “Let’s just get moving.” He opened the truck door. “Duluth is still a distance away. I can’t wait to see who Beginnings has sent as their monitor.”

  ^^^^

  “Whoa,” Frank said in awe over Robbie shoulder, coffee in hand, as he stared at the printer spewing forth sheets. “That is so cool.”

  Sarcastically, Hal leaned in. “Yes, yes it is. It’s called a printer, Frank. Those white things are called paper.”

  “Fuck you, Hal.”

  “We’re in for a long week, Frank. I don’t think you want to use up all of that luscious vocabulary in the first couple hours.”

  “Fuck you, Hal.’

  “My God are you a vat.” Hal took a seat at the dining room table.

  Robbie snickered. “This is great. Oh, Frank, the words may be little but it saves on paper.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “You and El wrote a book. I can’t wait to read it.”

  Hal sipped his coffee. “And you shall Frank, provided they kept it under a second grade level.” He looked up. “Yes, I know. Fuck me.” He winked.

  Ellen walked into the dining room. “Oh. Robbie’s printing our book. We’re almost done.” She sat next to Hal but before she did, she slowly ran her hand down Frank’s back. He glanced over his shoulder with a smile.

  “What is the book about?” Hal asked.

  “It’s an exposé,” Ellen explained, “on corrupt leadership.”

  “Aw.” Frank fake whined and sat down. “Does this mean I have to read about Hal?”

  Hal’s mouth opened and he released a silent mockery laugh.

  Swiveling in his chair, Robbie rolled to the table “This is so great.”

  Excitedly. Ellen agreed. “Yes, it is. Why are you two here? Did you sneak out?”

  Frank looked at Hal then back to Ellen. “Yes.”

  Ellen shook her head in wonder. “How did they not see you in that truck?”

  Hal smiled. “We’re slick. No one even noticed.”

  “We asked Dean to come,” Frank added, “but he refuse. He said he was too busy.”

  “Frank,” Hal scolded. “Ellen, that is not the case at all. Frank didn’t invite him.”

  “Shut up, Hal, “ Frank snapped.

  “Ah.” Hal lifted a finger. “Yet two more words. You’re limiting yourself, Frank.”

  Robbie chuckled. “This is so great. This is gonna be a great week.”

  “Week?” Ellen smiled. “You guys are here for a week? How are you getting away with that?”

  Frank shifted his eyes about. “Um, we’re on a business trip.”

  “Business trip?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes, an important one.” Frank explained.

  “An . . . important business trip?” Ellen asked.


  Robbie laughed.

  Hal cleared his throat. “Frank means . . .”

  “Vacation.” Frank snapped his finger. “I meant vacation. Thank you, Hal.”

  “Please don’t thank me on that one,” Hal replied. “Not for that one.”

  “That one what?” Frank asked.

  “The taking a vacation comment,” Hal answered.

  “Who’s taking a vacation?” Frank questioned.

  “God, Frank.” Hal said, annoyed. “We are.”

  “No we aren’t.”

  Robbie snickered “This is so great.”

  Curiously, Ellen looked at them. “What is going on?”

  “Bonding time,” Hal replied. “Quite simply, we’re here to reflect and bond.”

  “Bond.” Robbie nodded.

  “Like glue,” Frank said.

  “Or money,” Robbie suggested.

  “You mean stocks,” Hal suggested.

  “Yeah,” Robbie said. “That’s what I meant, stocks. Thanks. Or it could be like in jail.”

  Hal gave an impressed nod.

  “Or James,” Frank added.

  Chuckling, Robbie shook his head. “Probably more like brothers.”

  “That’s because we are,” Frank nodded. “Right, Hal?”

  “Absolutely, last I checked.”

  “OK,” Ellen said, her head tired of playing a tennis match between them. “What’s going on? Why are you here? Seriously.”

  Hal glanced at Frank. “Do you want to take it or me?”

  “I’ll do it,” Frank replied.

  “Tactfully,” Hal ordered.

  “Tactfully.” Frank winked. “OK. El, see. You shot Bev. Bev is George’s daughter. He knows and, well, he wants you dead.”

  “He . . . he . . .”

  “Wants you dead? Yes,” Frank finished her sentence. “It was three nuclear bombs or your life. What choice did my dad have? He said kill you instead.”