The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Anything in your view?” John asked. “I’m seeing the tail of the smoke now.”

  “Moving in.” Sgt. Doyle maneuvered. “Proceeding to drop in altitude and hopefully . . .” His attention was caught. “We have movement.”

  “Repeat,” John requested. “Movement where?”

  “Straight ahead.”

  “Straight ahead?” John asked.

  “Twenty miles. Airborne. Attitude . . .”

  “Airborne?” John requested. “Someone’s in the air? Are they in your scope? Can you identify them?”

  “That’s a negative,” Sgt. Doyle replied. “The smoke is too thick. I advise Longhorn to pull back until I give the ‘all clear’.”

  “Roger that, Scout. Longhorn pulling back.”

  The smoke was like a wall, black and thick. Nothing below him could be seen. Ready to drop in altitude, the speed of the blades whipped the smoke and as Sgt. Doyle prepared to turn, the smoke parted like a curtain, exposing in a sudden manner the oncoming site of another helicopter.

  “Shit.” Sgt. Doyle soared the chopper up and to the left,.

  John Matoose saw the sudden movement of Sgt. Doyle’s helicopter on his radar. “Scout, this is Longhorn, come in. What just happened?”

  “Who the hell was that?” Michael asked Johnny. “Someone else is here? Who the fuck else is here?”

  Johnny shook his head. “I’ll turn around again.”

  “Did you get a good look?” Michael looked over his shoulder to his men. “Did anyone get a good look? Was that Society?”

  Johnny only shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Michael gave an upward motion of his head. “Prepare to engage.”

  Johnny lifted his hand.

  Michael adjusted the radio. “I’ll try to see if we can get anything on here.” Just as he said that Sgt. Doyle’s voice emerged.

  It broke up some at first. “ . . . chopper. We have you on our radar.”

  Michael looked at Johnny, “Radar? They have radar?”

  “Please identify yourself,” Sgt. Doyle continued. “Do you copy? Identify yourself.”

  “We were about to ask you the same thing,” Michael spoke.

  “We are in response to a distress signal. What is your position here?” Sgt. Doyle sounded official.

  Michael gave a quirky look. “The same as you. Are you Society?”

  “That’s a negative. This is Sgt. Doyle, United Western Alliance, Beginnings Division Army.”

  Johnny hurried a look at Michael. “Beginnings is here.”

  Michael nodded. “I’m Chief Michael Manis of Lodi.”

  Silence.

  A background voice from John Matoose’s chopper flowed through. “Lodi? Did that guy say Lodi? What the fuck is Lodi?”

  Sgt. Doyle let out a chuckle. “Oh, shit, hey Michael. Is that you?”

  “Tim?” Michael asked in shock. “Fuck, I didn’t put two and two together with the Doyle part. I see you made it to Beginnings.”

  “Absolutely. I take it we’re heading in together on this one.”

  “Absolutely, “Michael responded. “What do you got?”

  “Getting a visual now . . . hold . . . Savages,” Sgt. Doyle stated. “Definitely Savages. I don’t see any civilian movement at all.”

  “The distress said they were hiding.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  Johnny looked at Michael. “Inform them we are turning about and coming in northeast.”

  “Tim, we are changing course and coming in northeast.”

  “Roger that, Michael. Beginnings will make a air sweep, then prepare to engage in ground involvement.”

  “Copy that, Beginnings. We’re right with you.” Michael exhaled then motioned to his men. “Prepare.” He himself grabbed his rifle and started to move to the back. He laid his hand on Johnny’s shoulder as he passed. “Do your thing.”

  Johnny swerved the bird and planted his thoughts and mind set only on the battle ahead. Fears about a confrontation or what would take place when he faced–unexpectedly–the men from his home would pelt him soon enough and in full force when he landed that chopper.

  It didn’t take long. The engagement ensued.

  ^^^^^

  Sgt. Doyle landed his chopper about a half mile from the small town to which they embarked on a rescue. He kept the chopper in a ready mode. He was prepared to take off and aid by air if needed. Despite his orders that he was not to get involved, he kept himself in a ready mode to run in and help out in fighting off the Savages that didn’t get take out by the air assault.

  In a way, Sgt. Doyle envied those who got to fight. Things had been kind of dull for him as far as any action went.

  The smoke, in a literal sense, would take some time to clear, but the smoke from the action, in a metaphoric sense, didn’t take too long at all.

  The popping of gunfire slowed down and the radio call that came from John Matoose that the town was clear and a search for survivors was underway let Sgt. Doyle know it was finished.

  He did find it peculiar that Lodi landed their chopped on the other side of town, seemingly some distance from Beginnings as if they didn’t even want to get in contact. Sgt. Doyle actually began to think that in some weird way Michael was going to finish up his ground job and sneak off like bandits in the night. His confirmation of that came when Michael radioed Doyle and told him the job was finished and they were packing up and heading out.

  However Michael’s move was quickly thwarted when Beginnings found the survivors a plenty in their hiding spot. Some of them were injured and Lodi’s air mobility was needed.

  It had been a while since Tim Doyle had spoken to Michael, a man he actually liked, and he wanted to at least say ‘hello’. Tired of waiting, and knowing things were safe, Tim proceeded toward the small town.

  Just as he arrived, he could see movement through the smoke. People straggled out into the street from what once was an old bank building. Savage bodies were strewn about, bullet filled and motionless.

  Spotting John Matoose, Tim lifted his rifle in the air as a signal.

  John hurried to him. “Couldn’t follow orders, huh?” he joked.

  “Nah. Not me. What’s the situation?”

  “There are approximately seventy survivors. We have about twenty injured that need immediate medical attention. Lodi has to take a few. Weight’s a factor. The rest will pack up and head to Beginnings.”

  “Where’s the Lodi team now?” Tim asked.

  “Taking their injured.” John pointed to the Beginnings men that escorted those who couldn’t walk. “Like us.”

  “Did you get to meet them?”

  “Not really.”

  “Come on.” Tim took John’s arm and turned him. “You have to meet Michael.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “Michael? I met him through his town. Lodi is a small Ohio town that literally built an iron wall of protection against the Society. But, come on, John, we know the Society. Iron wall or not, would that have worked? No. I knew Michael and his resistance,” he spoke as they walked. “As head of the Society military, I was able to keep them hidden and buried. Michael housed and helped some of my defectors when they needed it. That’s how he acquired some men. He’s a good man. And speaking of which.” Tim pointed.

  John smiled. He was anxious to meet this Michael. He saw him. “He’s a big guy.”

  “Huge.”

  Ready to be introduced with a grin of greeting on his face, John’s whole expression changed and dropped when Michael stepped aside and he saw . . Johnny. “No,” John growled in a soft whisper.

  “What?” Tim asked. “Shit.” He saw him too.

  In his site from the chopper door, Johnny saw them, and knew . . . game over.

  “Tim,” Michael said brightly with an extended hand. “Good to see . . .” he slowed when John Matoose brushed right by him. “You.” He watched a determined and focused John rush straight to Johnny. “Shit.”

  “You little son of
a bitch!” John barreled at Johnny. “I thought you were dead.” Shoulder first, with his entire body weight blasting, John’s force in the hit threw Johnny straight back and into the side of the helicopter with a slam.

  With a hard shove, Johnny pushed John from him.

  John stumbled back but didn’t lose his footing. Without missing a beat, his right arm swept around, grabbed the revolver and, in an upward motion of the gun, John shifted the chamber and aimed.

  “Hold it!” Michael’s hand slammed down on the gun. “Hold it!”

  John’s eyes stayed focused. He didn’t take them from Johnny, not at all.

  Johnny didn’t move. “John..” He swallowed. “Look . . .”

  “I don’t want to hear it!” John blasted. “You should have died! Elliott should have killed you!”

  An circle of men began to form out of curiosity of the emotional words that rang out.

  “Put the gun down!” Michael ordered.

  John ignored him.

  “John” Johnny tried to speak. “Things have changed. I . . .”

  “Bullshit!” John raged. “Don’t even go there, Johnny. Don’t. I won’t buy it. These people can but I won’t. Yeah, things have changed and you are the cause. Do you even know how much you changed lives! How much you hurt people! Have you any clue how much you’ve changed your family’s life?”

  “Take it easy!” Michael blasted.

  “I will not take it easy!”

  “I will not let you shoot this man!” Michael shouted.

  In a calm manner, Tim intervened. “Michael.” He walked closer to Michael. “This kid . . this kid is the epitome of a traitor. This kid turned his back on his home.”

  Michael spun to Tim. “This kid sought political asylum in Lodi. I granted it. You know my rules, Tim. My law is whatever this kid did prior to stepping through my gate doesn’t have a bearing on how he is treated by me. I determine that now, no one else. He’s one of my men and I will allow no one, not the Society nor Beginnings to put a bullet in him. Is that clear?”

  John Matoose lowered his weapon. “He’s right.” He put the revolver away. “Let’s reserve that honor for his father.” He turned and began to walk away. “See you at the bird. Chief Manis.” He gave a nod and walked off.

  “OK, show’s over!” Michael called out. “Let’s wrap this up!” He faced Johnny and motioned his head. “Go ahead, get things moving.”

  Johnny stepped to Michael and mouthed the words, ‘thank you.’

  Michael acknowledged that and returned to Tim. He exhaled with almost a whistle. “Well.”

  “Is he the reason you wanted to slip out unseen?” Tim asked.

  “Yeah,” Michael answered. “I knew someone would recognize him.”

  “You know, it will only be a matter of time before Beginnings confronts you with this. No, wait, they won’t.”

  Curiously Michael looked up. “They won’t.”

  “No. I know Joe. He’ll not even want to be bothered. Johnny has been written off. New Bowman is run by another Slagel with the same attitude. Beginnings won’t bother . . . Frank will.”

  “His father.” Michael nodded. “But, Tim, he’s a kid.”

  “I know. But Michael, my man, you have no idea what this kid did. None.”

  “I have an inkling but don’t you think things can change? Don’t you think regrets, guilt . . . missing . . . don’t you think that can change someone?”

  Tim looked over at Johnny. “I really doubt that with him.”

  “I don’t. I listen to him. I . . feel his words. I am a good judge of character, Tim. You know that. People don’t get over on me,” Michael said. “He, unlike most of us, has a family out here in this fucked up world, a family he wants.”

  Tim laughed. “Why do I get this feeling you are gonna try to be the emotional hero here?”

  “Maybe in a way I am. If I can keep him out of the way for a while, maybe his family will view him differently. He might not be welcome back in Beginnings . . .” Michael shrugged. “That’s fine. But maybe he can at least be welcome back to his family . . . his . . . his father.”

  Tim gave a look of doubt.

  “No, Tim, call it a hunch. Call it a gut feeling. Call it being a father myself,” Michael spoke with passion. “I just know. I have a son and I’ll tell you, it wouldn’t matter what he did, I would always love him. That’s what I am banking on with Johnny. That somehow . . .” Michael gave a quick glance to Johnny who looked scared. “No matter what . . . his father still loves him.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘I Love LA’ was the wording covering the handful of tee shirts Robbie had picked up from the souvenir shop. Still in plastic bags, they were in great shape. He stuffed them in the duffel bag he picked up. They squeezed in nicely and added very little weight to the rest of the trinkets Robbie had collected in his search for a weapon and a map. The gun was easy. Robbie actually located that in the first non-franchised store he ran across. The gun shop had been emptied out. He found other necessities as well, a blanket and lantern, but the trinkets were a bonus. They included a few porno tapes, a Chinese thumb torture, some music CD’s, and courtesy of the Taco Bell that stood on Hollywood Boulevard, two cans of refried beans with the Taco Bell label still on them, for Frank. The map, something that should be so easy to find, was actually the hardest item to locate. Robbie was on a scavenger hunt and the map was the last thing he needed to get. At first he tried to convince himself that he didn’t need a map. The place where Ellen was sat near a park. Park meant lots of trees. How hard would a large patch of trees be to spot in LA? Climbing to the highest point he could find, Robbie looked. Pockets of overgrowth were plenty and Robbie couldn’t see beyond the growth.

  Three hours and two miles later, Robbie found one. Underneath the front desk of a cheap motel, the map was more than he bargained for. He also found a hotel directory there. That was what ended up giving him his direction.

  Park Plaza Hotel, located by beautiful MacArthur Park, the brochure read and gave the location. The moment Robbie saw Wilshire Boulevard, he felt it in his gut that was where he had to be.

  Packed up, with map in hand, Robbie headed there. He wasn’t too far, seven miles perhaps. He would be there by sundown he was certain and, he hoped, out of L.A. with Ellen by nightfall.

  ^^^^^

  Joe really contemplated on whether he should deliver the entire news to Frank about the Iowa rescue. He knew his debate was obvious, but knowing it was Frank, Joe also knew he could be slow in giving a response and Frank wouldn’t notice.

  “Well?” Frank asked.

  ‘Should I or shouldn’t I?’ Joe stared at the phone.

  “Dad? What happened?”

  I want him to stay focused. Would he stay focused? Maybe I should wait.

  “No, don’t,” Frank said. “Tell me now.”

  “Goddamn it, Frank, quit reading my mind,” Joe snapped. “Everything went fine with the rescue.”

  “Well, what is it you don’t want to tell me?” Frank asked as he drove.

  “Dan . . . Dan from Security . . . well, he was bending your spoons back to normal and he broke three of them.”

  “Asshole.” Frank shook his head. “Are you sure that’s it?”

  “Positive. Quit reading my mind.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Try,” Joe ordered, “because you never know. You might hear something you don’t want to hear.”

  “You’re right on that one.” Frank peered into his rearview mirror. “I read Hal’s thoughts earlier.”

  Hal looked up from the back seat. “Oh, you did not.”

  “Yes, I did,” Frank insisted. “And, no Hal, we cannot pull over so you can masturbate.”

  “Christ, Frank,” Joe winced. “Have some tact. There’s a kid present.”

  “He’s the one that wants to do it,” Frank stated. “OK, more tact. No Hal, we cannot pull over so you can relieve that pent up frustration.”

  Hal glared at him. �
��I swear there is something wrong with you.”

  Frank laughed.

  Hal returned to what he was doing. “So go on, Elliott.”

  “I was just thinking. Going by Ellen’s notes,” Elliott reviewed the paper. “I’m getting that if we hit near Wilshire, we might have a good chance. Christopher stated that there are several entrances and one was near a park.”

  “Aren’t there many parks?” Hal asked.

  “Yeah, but this one is near a huge old hotel like Chris described.”

  “How can you do that?” Hal questioned.

  “Do what?” Elliott responded.

  “Read while we drive and not get sick. I would be vomiting.”

  “Actually . . .” Billy interceded. “It isn’t one’s ability not to get sick. It’s the individual’s ability to stay focused without allowing anything to enter their peripheral vision.”

  Hal swung a view Billy’s way. “Oh, who asked you?”

  “Hey!” Frank barked from the front. “Leave my kid alone.”

  “Dean’s kid,” Hal corrected. “It’s obvious. Listen to the way he talks.”

  “Well, after being all mine, he’ll be like me.”

  “Swell.” Hal rolled his eyes. “Just what we need. Why would he be all yours?”

  “Dean’s giving him to me.”

  “What?”Hal laughed.

  “Yeah, I’m serious. He’s giving me his family,” Frank said. “OK, well, Ellen. He’s giving me Ellen when we get back. She’s my prize.”

  Hal scoffed, “Sure, Frank.”

  “I’m telling you, Hal, Dean said so. He’s probably giving me the house too. Bet me that he’s divorcing El.”

  “Wishful thinking Frank,” Hal argued.

  “You’ll see. House, El, kids, all mine. Probably because he’s in love with Misha.”

  Again, in a ridiculing manner, Hal laughed. “Frank, listen to you. You live in your own world. Trust me. Dean is not giving you the kids, not giving you Ellen, he isn’t moving you right in his house, nor filing for a divorce. And he certainly . . . certainly is not in love with Misha.”

  ^^^^^

  “Dean’s what?” Henry asked as he stood outside of the Social Hall with Hector.