Glimmer of Hope (Land of Tomorrow Book 1) (17 page)

Chapter 4 – A Delicate Problem

General Anderson passed a message to Nathan at his parents’ home only a few days after the Taylor's arrived in Mayfield. He wanted to talk to him about something and also introduce President Reggie Philips, whom Nathan had heard much about.

Nathan recommended they meet for lunch at Hill’s Restaurant. Hill’s served the very best barbeque to be found anywhere around and N-Day had not diminished the wonderful quality of its food...although rationing had lowered the portions and limited the options considerably.

Nathan arrived early, shook hands, and talked to old friends. His celebrity status since arriving several days ago was not diminished. The stories of their adventures over many adventurous miles of dangerous territory were already legend, and gave hope to some that their separated family members might make it home also. Normally, Nathan would have tired of it quickly, but not so far. These people just seemed so genuinely glad to see him and to know that he was okay. It was hard to grow annoyed with that sort of attitude.

He sat at a corner table away from the crowd where he could see the front door. Nathan ordered iced tea and within a quarter hour saw General Anderson walk into the front of the restaurant in jeans and a polo shirt, foregoing his normal uniform. Anderson also evidently knew many of the same people and shook hands and talked as he made his way towards Nathan’s table. Nathan noticed a dignified-looking man in a coat and tie following behind Anderson. He also greeted individuals warmly and talked easily, but to Nathan looked tired.

They eventually made their way over to his table as Nathan stood to greet them. He shook Clarence Anderson’s hand and then President Philip’s as they were introduced. “It is a pleasure to meet you Colonel Taylor. I have heard so many good things about you from General Anderson.”

Nathan wasn’t sure what good things Anderson had told him, but he thanked him anyway. Asking them to sit, he waved over Annie, the waitress and his second cousin, who brought them iced tea as well. Besides water, and occasionally coffee, it was the only drink on the menu. Nathan took the liberty of ordering them all barbeque plates with extra hot sauce, knowing they would enjoy it and secretly hoping it was a little too hot for Clarence Anderson.

Anderson abruptly got down to business. “When were you planning to head back to the LBL Park?”

The question immediately put Nathan on the defensive. He’d been gone for years, and endured countless risks to get home. Now after only three days Anderson was pushing him. Nathan controlled himself. “I figured I would head back next week with the family.”

Reggie shifted uncomfortably, obviously picking up on Nathan’s tone. “Colonel Taylor, you misunderstand. We have a problem that we hope you can help us with that might delay your return. Can Lieutenant Colonel.,,,?”

He searched for the name and Anderson jumped in. “Buchannan. Lieutenant Colonel Harold Buchannan.”

“Yes. Can Lieutenant Colonel Buchannan handle things there for a few more weeks while you help us with an issue here?” asked Reggie.

“Well, I can tell you he is more than capable, but I don’t want to be away too long. We still have a lot of work to do. Perhaps we should begin with what the problem is and what I can do to help.”

Anderson agreed and quickly told Nathan about the interaction with Sampson the previous week. He left nothing out, not even Sampson’s offer to support a coup d’état by Anderson. He also described the strained relationship between the JP and the WTR and how Sampson had a much stronger and more capable military force. Sampson was in all regards a military dictator and had mobilized every available resource to his ends.

Nathan sat back in thought. He had of course heard about Sampson, but never in such stark terms.

“That is bad,” said Nathan. “But that doesn’t explain why you would want to delay my return. I would think you would want me there faster, to get our defenses ready.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Reggie and he next told Nathan about the last meeting of the executive council where they openly discussed cutting off the WTR’s electricity over the pretext of them not having made their payments.

“So,” said Nathan in comprehension, “you believe that Sampson’s sudden change of attitude is due to knowing what was talked about in the council?”

“Yes,” said Anderson. “Sampson doesn’t give up something for nothing. It might be a coincidence, but I doubt it. I think we have a spy in our midst.”

“Which is why we have come to you,” said Reggie. “General Anderson tells me that you were a counterintelligence agent. If I understand correctly, that means you caught spies for a living.”

Nathan smiled. “Occasionally yes, it’s much harder than it sounds. It’s funny, you should bring this up, I’ve even been thinking about how to develop our own spy network, but…don’t you have anyone else who can do this? I’ve got a few other things going on, as you can imagine.”

“Not really,” said Anderson. “Not anyone who knows about this stuff. We also know you’re not involved because you just got here. We can trust you.”

Nathan wasn’t sure if he had just been insulted or complimented, but decided to continue on. “So what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Why, find out who it is and let us know,” said Reggie matter-of-factly.

Nathan rubbed his face and breathed out. “It’s not that simple. I’m not sure where to begin exactly.” Nathan searched for words and looked out the window.

“Just tell us what you think, Nathan,” said Reggie and smiled calmly. Nathan immediately felt more relaxed. As much as Anderson seemed to unintentionally get under his skin at every turn, Reggie Philips was the opposite and made him feel at ease.

“Well, first of all,” began Nathan, “you may not be looking for someone. If this were a year ago I would think you’ve got a listening device in your midst, but that seems less likely given the difficulty of electronic storage and transmission. But, still might be worth checking out. Also, you might be looking for several individuals who don’t even know of each other. If General Sampson is smart enough to run a spy into our midst, he’s also smart enough not to put all of his eggs in one basket. Granted, we know at least one of them has access to the council, but he or she may not even have been in the room.”

“What do you mean exactly?” asked Anderson.

“Well, let’s say one of the attendees of this meeting talked about the meeting to a girlfriend as pillow-talk or something and the girlfriend is your spy. We could be dealing with someone removed a few paces.”

“I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or not,” said Reggie. “It would be a relief to think that one of the men I’ve worked so hard with might not actually be a traitor, just maybe…indiscreet. But…that would make it harder to identify the individual, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, exactly,” stated Nathan. “Another problem is that investigations almost always take a long time unless you catch someone in the act, which is rare. Most of the cases I worked went months, and many went years in duration. Also, understand…” here Nathan almost didn’t go on, but decided to anyway, “if we’re dealing with someone well-trained by a professional intelligence operative, the chances of us ever catching them are remote.”

“Why?” asked Anderson. “We know they are close to us.”

“True,” Nathan answered. “But they want to keep their sources protected and hidden. The side committing espionage normally has most of the advantages and the way we almost always catch them is when they make a mistake. If they’re smart, disciplined, and patient, the chances of them getting caught are slim.”

“So,” Reggie interjected. “We have to hope that Sampson or his spies make a mistake.”

“Actually,” said Nathan, “I believe he has already. Letting us know, even in a roundabout way, that he knew of our plans was a mistake. He shouldn’t have done that. We would have probably gone for a long time without suspecting anything if only he had been a little more subtle.”

“Subtlety is not in his nature,” said Anderson.

“But,” Nathan went on, “knowing we have a spy is the first step, we are still a long way from identifying him.”

Nathan could tell that Anderson was getting frustrated, but Reggie stepped in smoothly. “So, if you were in our shoes, what would you recommend?”

Nathan sat back and thought for a moment before going on. “Well, I would start by being careful about what is discussed at those meetings. Take it for granted from this point forward that whatever is talked about will get to Sampson. Next, I would start sensitizing people to the danger of loose lips. Use the radio, newspapers, fliers, anything. Tell them if they see anything suspicious to report it.”

“Report to whom?” asked Anderson.

“Well, that’s a good point,” answered Nathan. “You need someone, an organization actually, in charge of investigating such incidents and claims. It needs to be professionals who have recognized authority, but also skilled in investigative work. I know it’s not their area, but the State Police would probably be the best option for now. Espionage is a crime after all. They would have to start small with the basics and work toward a fully developed counterintelligence program. It will take time and it will take lots of hard work and patience on your part.”

“So, a few weeks of your help is not going to solve the problem?” asked Reggie.

“It might, but it’s unlikely. Even if by some miracle we catch this person, it wouldn’t fix the larger issues. You need a group of people doing this full time,” said Nathan. “What I would recommend is letting me go help train the State Police and then work with them as needed, and when I can.”

Reggie Philips and General Anderson looked at each other for a moment and then nodded.

Reggie turned back at Nathan, “That is a very good recommendation, thank you. I’ll put you in touch with the State Police Commander, Frank Simm, and we’ll get the ball rolling. You have already gone a long way towards putting my mind at ease.”

Anderson seemed to have another thought. “It occurs to me that Sampson probably knows a lot about what is going on in the JP, but we know nothing about what is going on in the WTR or along our other borders. You mentioned earlier that you were already thinking about developing our own spy network?”

“Well, that’s a little bit of a larger and slightly more complicated issue,” said Nathan. “I would recommend that we focus on protecting our own house first and then expand our activities later. But…with your permission, I would like to start tentatively running some reconnaissance patrols out of the LBL area and would recommend other commanders do the same along their borders.”

“You have our permission, and that’s a good recommendation we’ll pass to the other units,” said Anderson. “Just be careful in the south. We don’t want to set off this powder keg before we have to.”

Nathan thought for a moment and decided to ask. “I have an idea of what you want to do about the spy, but may I ask what you plan on doing about Sampson and his threats?”

“Well, we’re going to play nice for as long as we can, as best we can,” said Reggie.

“That will work for a time, but then what?” asked Nathan.

Anderson got a hard look on his face as he answered. “When we’re ready, we cut off all their electricity and there will be war.” He said this without any emotion and Nathan knew it wasn’t simply boasting, but reality. A graveyard atmosphere settled over the table and the talk ended awkwardly as the seriousness of the future set in.

The plates of food arrived, piled high with the savory pulled pork, with sides of cole slaw, and potatoes. The smell was wonderful and Nathan was sure it was just as delicious to taste. He started to eat and then thought of something.

“How do you think Sampson knew?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Anderson.

“Well,” continued Nathan. “The border is pretty tightly controlled. It’s not like you can walk back and forth across unless we have holes in it.”

“No, we’ve made that a top priority and should be covered, especially now that you have the LBL bottled up,” said Anderson.

“Good. So our people aren’t regularly crossing to the south and they aren’t regularly crossing north,” said Nathan. “Mail doesn’t exactly run, so that’s out. That really only leave’s one obvious answer of how the information was passed to him.”

“And what’s that?” asked Reggie around a mouthful of barbeque.

“Phones,” answered Nathan with a smile. He saw their bemused looks and continued on. “We have wired and wireless phones and functioning cell phone towers because we have electricity. The WTR has electricity from us, so we must assume they also have phones. That…is how our guy is passing secrets.” Nathan smiled and took a bite of his sandwich.

“So how does that help?” asked Anderson.

“Easy,” said Nathan. “We pull all the phone records and see who is calling to the south and then cross reference that against people who might have reason to know council business. That should give you a manageable subject pool to begin investigating.”

Both men stopped eating and looked at him in amazement. Nathan laughed in spite of himself, “Well, I did do this for a living after all!”

Chapter 5 – Conquering Fate

Timothy “Brazen” Walker never believed in fate. He always thought each man made his own life by his own decisions. He lived that way and didn't question the purpose of it all…until recently.

Brazen sat near the back of the Freedom Baptist Church of Paducah. The church doors remained unlocked most times, but Brazen was the only person there at such an early hour. He never prayed anymore. People who knew him would probably be shocked by the idea of Brazen actually inside a church. Nevertheless, simply being here gave him some semblance of peace. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God, he believed in Him with all his heart; he simply did not believe in God’s forgiveness. At least not in his case.

Timothy Walker came from a broken home and was raised along with his little sister by a strict and religious grandmother. His mother was an infrequent and unreliable presence in their lives and the siblings never knew their father. Timothy grew up among numerous extended family, all of which made a living through various nefarious “trades” frowned upon by lawful society. Brazen’s friends were in gangs and most had been arrested at least once.

His grandmother, Noni had certainly tried, and at one point Brazen would have admitted she succeeded with him. She saw the dark path he was on growing up without a father figure, instinctively seeking that figure in all the wrong places. Noni convinced Pastor Lancourt of Freedom Baptist to try to mentor her grandson. It was a rocky road, and not one Brazen accepted willingly; but Noni could be very convincing. Brazen found himself smiling at the memories and dropped his head as they flooded through him.

Pastor Lancourt had been a hard man to figure out. He was tough and serious at the same time he was kind, sincere, and generous in all he did. In a world where manhood was defined by empty words and pompous displays of false courage, usually measured through illegitimate children and random acts of violence, Lancourt was something different. Brazen knew Lancourt had more stones than any gangbanger he ever met…and he knew why.

Lancourt firmly, and with all his heart, believed that God was with him at all times and in all circumstances. Brazen eventually came to believe it too and wanted the same. Pastor Lancourt showed Brazen the true nature of courage and manhood. He came to believe that he made his own fate through God’s help and did not have to lead a life like those he saw around him.

Still in high school then, the teachers were shocked at the depth of Brazen’s intellect. Beneath a shell of rebellion and disinterest lay a mind that soaked up knowledge and demanded more. They said he was a prodigy and held him up as an example of how the school district "turned around" a troubled teen. Eventually that got him noticed by good universities very far away.

Truth was Brazen was an absolute whiz with mathematics and engineering. The day he received a full academic scholarship to the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in far off Cambridge, was one of Noni’s proudest. They all believed he had defied the odds and made it. That he had made his own fate.

The bright future was eclipsed by tragedy. During his senior year of college, he got the call from Noni. Brazen's little sister was dead, caught in the crossfire of rival gang activity two blocks from home. The target of the attack lived, despite suffering numerous gunshot wounds.

Noni was still strong, drawing strength from her faith, but to Brazen it all seemed like a bad dream. Pastor Lancourt took his hands on several occasions and talked about God’s will and why bad things happen to good people, but Brazen couldn’t hear any of it. None of it came home until the day he received the envelope that changed his life. If not for the envelope, he might have overcome his grief and gathered his dreams around him like a comforting cloak and found a life, but that was not to be.

The envelope came with little fanfare a few days after the funeral. The door buzzer rang, but by the time he got to the door no one was there, just a little kid running off down the street casting darting looks back over his shoulder at him as he ran. Brazen looked down at a large manila envelope with “Timmy” written on it. Inside was $10,000 in dirty bills in various denominations and a scrap of white paper with two words scrawled on it, “Sorry Bro”. Brazen let the money fall to the floor as he clutched the paper and stared at it in amazement.

That simple scrap of paper made everything real. He broke down and cried for the first time over the loss of his sister. Then his grief gave way to consuming rage and anger. He knew he should not think this way, but he embraced the hate and violence that welled within him. It felt better than the emptiness and pain.

Brazen very carefully picked up all the money and placed it back into the envelope, just as carefully he folded up the piece of paper and placed it in his wallet. He knew where it came from. Only one person in the world ever called him Bro.

Brazen took the money and deposited all but $500 into Noni’s savings account. He then went to a pawn store and bought a snub-nosed .38 caliber pistol and fifty rounds of ammunition. With no clear idea what he was going to do just yet, Brazen used the thinking skills from the best technical school in the world and put his brilliant mind to deadly use.

It was not too difficult to find the thugs involved. Chino, Two Tone, and Jams were part of the 15
th
Street Posse, a group with connections to larger gangs on the east coast. Brazen stalked each of them carefully and patiently. It was surprisingly easy. He walked up to each when they were alone on the street, and with no words or fanfare, shot them in the head and kept going. The last thing he expected to feel was nothing.

Killing the three directly responsible was not enough. He continued killing Posse members until it was rare to see them alone, and most thought rival gangs were to blame. Although there were plenty of Posse members to kill, Brazen decided that maybe if he could kill the gang leader, the man who called him ‘Bro’, then possibly he could go on with his life. Maybe that empty feeling in his chest would be filled. The Posse leader, Jaden, was once Brazen’s best friend, but there was a gulf between them now that could not be bridged.

The Posse was deathly afraid of nighttime attacks, but they felt safe during the day, especially in public places. Brazen realized could get Jaden if he really wanted, but there would be no walking away. Brazen decided he could live with those terms.

Paducah Sun Newspaper - Thursday, July 14th

Brazen Killing in Mall Food Court

On Wednesday, a lone male walked into the Food Court Area of 100 Oaks Mall and shot to death Jaden Brown, age twenty-two of Paducah, Kentucky. Witnesses claim an individual approached Brown and three of his acquaintances before reportedly pulling a pistol and shooting Brown in the chest. The assailant then kicked a wounded Brown over in his chair and emptied the other five shots into Brown's body. Witnesses say the assailant then tossed the gun away and sat down to wait for the police to arrive. The motive for the shooting is unknown at this time, but authorities suspect illegal drugs are involved.

The authorities took one suspect into custody. Timothy Walker, twenty-two years old of Paducah, Kentucky who was arrested at the scene.

Civic officials denounced this brazen attack as the latest in over a dozen unsolved murders in Paducah in the last two months.

Jaden Brown is survived by his mother Tonya Brown and grandmother Ester Liggins.

The subsequent trial took into account his loss and grief, and the judge only sentenced him to fifteen years. His lawyer thought he might only serve five with good behavior. Brazen didn’t care. The one thing he had not factored into his careful consideration was Noni. He soon suspected that his actions were more painful to her than the death of his sister.

In a year's time, the false rumors of his association with smaller gangs led from his protection in prison to his leadership. Various gang members followed him around and watched his back and did not resent his total lack of acknowledgement of their existence. Over time Brazen began to come out of his shell and started to exert influence. Although he felt confident in his damnation, he was not without a conscience.

Within two years, Brazen controlled a large network of smaller gangs known as Brothers for Life, a play on words in prison since many of the gang members were serving life sentences.

By the third year, Brazen’s leadership extended beyond the prison walls. He stopped drug sales, prostitution, and violent crimes and turned the gangs’ illegal activity towards extortion, robbery, and violence against other gangs.

In his fourth year, he blocked Noni from visitation. He could operate without pain and without considering what he had lost …except during Noni's visits.

She came every week and talked to him as if nothing had ever happened. "I love you, Timmy. I pray for you every night." Yet, Brazen could see she was dying a little each time she entered within those grey walls, which to her represented failure in so many ways. Eventually, Brazen could take it no longer and told her to never come back. She ignored him and kept coming. He finally convinced the guards to prevent her from visiting him due to health concerns for the old lady caused by the stress of the prison. The guards complied, and Brazen never saw Noni again. In less than a year, she was dead. Noni reminded him of who he had once been and who he had hoped to be. Such thoughts could not be borne.

The lawyer was right and Brazen was placed on parole at the five year mark based on good behavior and the education program he helped set up within the prison. He wanted out of the prison, but wasn’t exactly sure where he wanted to do or be. Going back to finish at MIT was now out of the question, so without thought, he drifted back home.

At first, Brazen tried to live a legitimate life of some sort, but he supposed he simply wasn’t strong enough. He accepted the role thrust upon him as leader of the Brothers. He continued his plan for getting away from crimes that carried severe prison sentences and attracted police attention, instead focusing on other activities. The one area where the Brothers remained violent was towards other gangs who did not accept Brazen's leadership or rules.

The Brothers set up a system borrowed from the Italian Mafia where they demanded protection money from the inhabitants of neighborhoods, but in return made them the safest in the city. Brazen severely punished any of his people who were impolite or rude to any of the people under their care. The Brothers were also fiercely protective and Brazen often told them to think of themselves as sheepdogs protecting their flock from the wolves.

Brazen was too honest to try to fool himself into thinking he was a good man doing good work for society. He could accept that they took a scourge on honest people and at least controlled it. That work became even more important after N-Day when the world turned upside down.

Many said the Brothers were lifesavers. They protected the citizens under their care while gathering food, water, and needed medical care. The Brothers continued to accept the “payment” for protection, but in other forms such as gasoline. This payment, in the end, caused all the problems.

The city demanded taxes, but did not provide anything in return. They could point to the electricity, but that ran regardless and was at best an unreliable commodity. The police and National Guard got more serious and attempted to force their way into the Brothers’ areas, but were pushed back. Three of Brazen’s men were shot along with six police and National Guard troops. Word reached Brazen just this morning that one of the policemen died. Brazen knew he was losing control and wasn’t sure how to regain it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of someone from behind him. He knew his men would let no one sneak up on him, so he remained at ease; but looked around nevertheless. It was Pastor Lancourt, much older now, but still filled with that formidable presence.

“Timothy,” stated Lancourt with a genuine smile. “It is a blessing to see you in this place. I have missed you, my son.” Lancourt’s embrace took Brazen by total surprise. He had expected many reactions from this man, but affection was not one of them. Lancourt continued on, “How are you doing?”

With most people this question was simply a cursory passing question, not really requiring an honest answer, but Brazen knew Lancourt wanted the truth. Brazen quickly looked around to make sure none of his men were close enough to hear and whispered, “Lost, I think. Things got out of control. I didn’t want any of it to happen and now I’m not sure how to fix it.”

Lancourt nodded, “I know son. Your sister’s loss and your grandmother’s death were a tragedy, but neither were your fault.”

Brazen sucked in his breath in surprise and sudden anger, “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it!”

“Is it not?” asked Lancourt. “Seems to me that ever since your sister’s death you have been searching for something to fill that hole in your heart, but you have been searching in all the wrong places.”

Brazen was nodding his head, “I know where you're headed preacher, but it’s not going to work on me.”

“What’s not going to work on you?”

“Your…” Brazen searched for words, “Jesus talk about love and forgiveness and redemption. My fate was sealed long ago. You don’t know everything I’ve done. If you did, you would know my sins are unforgivable.” As Brazen said these words he nearly choked on them. He hadn’t meant to verbalize his greatest belief and fear, but it was now out there.