Brothers In Blood: For Country

Captain on Deck

Jack Lynch was a very intense person. Those who knew him see his glacier stare burning into their minds. His mind was set on something and he would do anything to accomplish it. That was what the United Nations was looking for in a leader. They needed someone who had the ability to connect with people, a kind of quiet intimidation of the masses. A natural born leader of men of all types, with a flair for reading into the desires of the masses and the individual.
A world map was stretch across one wall. Red arrows all marked shipping routes leading to and leaving one country. Blue circles marked military installations and training facilities. Yellow X’s showed government buildings and key economic points. A list posted to one side had the counties that possessed a militia or an air force. Below that, an outline of a plan to try to make the country starve itself. The nation in question was the Unites States of America, the last independent country in the world. All other nations had given into the United Nations demands for socialized unified governments.
“It’s the biggest thing to have been concocted since the Internet, Mr. Lynch.” The oversized man in a gray pinstriped suit gestured to the map. He was the most powerful man in the United Nations, and he made sure everyone knew it. “These are the shipping routes that are the bloodlines to the United States. In a few short months, with your help, of course, we could have brought this giant to its knees.” He spat at the map. “The US has been an oppressor ever since the Iron Curtain was torn down. When it lost its only competition, it progressively took advantage of the rest of the world. If only Putin hadn’t failed in returning the motherland to its former glory...” The tip of his cigar glowed brightly as he took a long drag. “Well, that’s enough about history. Let me outline the plan for you, my friend.
“In Asia, there is a movement to unite under one government with delegations from all countries with equal power. It is in the early stages, politically, but it has been brewing for a long time. Le Xu Hing is their leader, a former peasant who took over Chinese industry in the last few years. His power extended to Japan when he threatened a naval siege and cut off all communication out of Japan. He is a genius, the likes of which has not been seen since Stalin. In Europe, even Britain had turned against the United States for their slight of the United Nations. The European Union of 2005 marked a new age in politics, and the end of America’s dominance.” He paused and turned back to the map. “The two largest alliances want to become one, but they can’t figure on a leader and they don’t trust anyone from below the equator. They looked over thousands of possibilities, Mr. Lynch,” The chair squeaked as he turned back to look at the impassive Lynch. “And they decided to ask you first. We need you to use your knowledge of America to help us defeat it.”
The Secretary General tapped a manila folder on his dark oak desk for emphasis. “Mr. Lynch, this project is imperative for the future world peace. We need you to gain the backing of the European Union and the Asian Confederation in our cause.”
“All you must do is turn yourselves over to us peacefully and renounce the West!” The whiny voice of the crack interrogator cut through the pain that raced through Jack’s body. “Do this, and we will let you die quickly, no pain, in your sleep. Otherwise,” The scrawny old man stood up and leaned on an old-fashioned stock. “We have other methods of dealing with you Americans.” They brought King in and put his feet in the holes. Then, another soldier came in, leading a horse. Jack watched, helpless as they proceeded to stretch King out, the horse pulling him away from his feet which were secured and locked in. “Continue in your insolence, American, or watch your fellow die, as they all will if you don’t give in to our demands.” King gasped in pain. “As you can see, our methods are very effective. Hiani!”
Two more men came in with machetes, grinning like little kids in a candy store. They started beating on King with the flat parts, slicing his pale, taut skin, letting blood seep out. Jack forced himself to rise from under his guards. “King,” He said, “Do you want to die?”
For a minute, there was nothing. Jack was letting the steam build up inside. There was something unreadable about the mask that had frozen on his face. The Secretary took the silence to be a positive response. ‘Maybe this military man can be brought under our control,’ he thought. He was wrong.
Jack’s hand slammed the desk and he rocketed to his feet. Instead of ice, his eyes became cold fire. His chest rose and fell, his face flushed. Both hands pulled into fists, ripping the folder out of the Secretary’s hand and throwing it into the paper shredder. A UN Peace Keeper badge hung from his chest. He tore it free and threw it after the folder. Smoke rose from the bucket as the machine tried to devour it.
Lynch placed his hands on the desk and leaned in the Secretary’s face. His brow darkened and his nostrils flared with suppressed anger. “In all my time working for the government, did it ever occur to you bureaucrats that I chose to serve my country?” he glared down at the Secretary.
His face contorted in a spasm of pain as the blade fell again. “Yeah, Jack, I’m ready to go. Just promise me one thing,” King shrieked as his hips popped out of joint. “Promise me Jack, that you’ll never give in and let these scuzballs break you and make you say nothing about Her!” His shoulders were tearing apart. “Kill me now, Jack! Just tell my mother I went down like a man!”
Jack took the machete from one of the torturers and struck King across the top of his head. It was a quick way for him to go, the best way. He wrapped his arms around the body of his friend and sobbed uncontrollably. They took him back to the open-air compound with the rest of the squad, still clutching King’s battered body.
“You are asking me to turn against myself. You are asking me to unite all these different factions against the one remaining capitalistic democracy in the world. How can you ask me to do something like that? Do you think my honor can be bought with money that you borrowed from my country’s treasury? I am dedicated to this nation. My country is the greatest nation in the world and i would serve it to my dying breath. Any person who tries to convince me that my country is not worth my efforts is my enemy. The same for any person who tries to turn me against her. I fight under her colors first, spill my blood for what ever cause our leaders choose. yeah, I do disagree with some of the things our nation does, but I’m not smart enough to be up there, telling our leaders what to do. The United States of America is my home land and I will never, ever join hands with those who oppose us.”
“Well, then Mister Lynch,” The Secretary General’s voice turned cold as the North Wind. “I hope you have someone who’ll stand beside you when the time comes for you to stand trial. The winds are changing, Lynch, and nothing you can do is going to stop us from bringing America to its knees.”
Jack met the north wind with his ice storm. “me and my boys will be standing at Hell’s Gate watching you get hauled in. They’d follow me through those gates too, if I asked them to. I don’t know who else knows about your plans, but you messed with the wrong pack of wolves.”
He turned around and left the room in a whirlwind. The security guards nodded to him as he passed, oblivious to what had just happened. A squawk in their earpieces set them into motion. Jack could feel them coming and lunged down a diverging corridor. Doorways flew past him as he picked up speed. An attendant turned the corner far ahead, pushing a cart filled with paper and ink. Security was huffing at his heals.
Overtaking the girl in an instant, he threw the boxes of paper into the path of his pursuers. Then taking the cart, he raced to the stairwell. Any logical thought left his mind as it focused on survival. he flipped the cart over, wheels up, and used it as a sled down the stairs. Wind whipped through his hair, and he became vaguely aware that no one was following him. Ahead, he saw black suits running around in front of the entrance.
He hit the landing and flew down the remaining stairs to the floor. Without time to recover, he rushed the doors and broke through the barricade. The glass shattered as he hit the door, cutting his palm open. Outside, the crowds of tourists gave him perfect cover from the guards.
An open alleyway beckoned to him. His chest hurt from the landing and his energy reserves where gone. Knees hit the ground, followed by his chest as he tried to regain control. His body was wracked, but his time in the Marines had toughened him. A few minutes later, he was moving again.
A homeless teenager tried to push past him, and Jack could feel his wallet slipping away. he grabbed the kid and slammed him against the brick wall. “Didn’t your mommy tell you its wrong to take other people’s things?” The cold eyes sparkled with amusement as he watch the boy’s face twitch. But, instead of breaking the boy, Jack simply bought his clothes. The kid walked away with Jack’s suit, and a pocket full of cash, and Jack slipped away as just another bum on the street.
At the next pay phone he found, he dialed up a friend who lived just outside New York.
Ring, ring, ring. “Hello?”
“GD, its Jack.”
“Wassup, bud. Ain’t heard from you since forever! How ya been?”
“Doin fine, guy, but I need a favor.”
“Anything for you, m’ man. Just ask away!”
“You sober?”
“haven’t touched the stuff since Jennie left. Why?”
“I need you to pick me up.”
“Pick you up, from where?”
“I’m in New York right now. I’ve got people following me and I gotta get away.”
The was a period of silence.
“What you been smokin’ Jack?”
“GD, I’m serious. Get to the Lincoln Tunnel entrance in half an hour. I’ll be there.”
“You gonna explain yourself when I get there?”
“Just be there, please!”
“Gotcha, man. See ya in half an hour.” Click.
Jack slowly raised his hands and hung up the phone. The gun prodding his ribs made him raise them higher. Behind him, he could smell beer and marijuana and body odor. ‘Turn ’round, foo.”
His captor was a typical gangsta. He had the gold chains, the oversized jacket, and the pants hanging around his thighs. The gun he held was a semi-automatic. It wasn’t a big gun, but it could get the job done.
“Hand ova yo cash, foo. I seen you give Crazy yo fancy threads, and I see the greens you got. hand it ova befo i blow you ‘way.”
Jack moved to get his wallet out. with lightening speed, he knocked the gun-hand away and thrust his foot at the crotch of the gansta’s pants. His foot caught in the folds and he stomped hard. The jeans fouled up the assailant and he tripped. The gun went off, the bullet blasting through a trash can. As Jack shifted to get away, he spotted the man’s boxers. he placed his foot on the man’s back, and gave one good yank towards the man’s head before sprinting off down the street, laughing like a maniac. The thugs cries echoed down the walls after him.
He ran to the tunnel and leaned against the concrete wall, grinning and panting. He still had time before GD was due to arrive. Cars sped past him, less then five feet away. he had recovered by the time GD’s truck rumbled up the ramp towards him. The truck pulled into the breakdown lane and the passenger door opened to accept him. Country music met his ears as he slid into the seat. He hit the tuner button and slammed the door as they merged back with traffic.
GD laughed when he heard the final strains of Metallica’s Enter the Sandman pour through the speakers. “Don’t change much in three years, do ya Jack?”
Jack settled back in the bucket seat and adjusted his seatbelt before replying.
“If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, its my opinion towards country music.” His eyes glinted, like a school boy talking about a hated teacher. “Banjos, harmonicas, and a bunch of crappy lyrics sung by some tone-deaf idiot who smoked too much as a kid isn’t music.”
GD’s huge frame shook. he slapped the dash and wiped tears from his eyes. smiling, he clapped his hand down on Jack’s shoulder and shook him roughly. “That’s the Jack I know. Good thing to, I might not have let you come back to my place if you were anything else.”
The tunnel ended and sunlight poured across the battered leather interior. A quizzical look shot from Jack. “Why, what you got against change?”
“Its not change I got a problem with, its just...” The cab was silent for a moment.
“What? You’ve got something on your mind, now spill.’
GD looked him in the eye. “The Big Boys came to see me the other day.” he watched Jack’s face for a reaction. “The boys from the Pentagon came and asked me to get some of the old crew together to look in to something. They want our tribe back together, Jack.”
Silence filled the cab as Jack thought over what his friend had just told him. His eyes turned towards the skyline as they moved from the city to the rural areas outside. getting the tribe together? After their tour of duty in the East, the survivors of squad 154 had spilt into two camps. Half wanted to desert and run off into the world and not bother returning home. They had heard the stories from Iraq and from Vietnam and they didn’t think they could deal with the rejection from their own people. fearful, ashamed of who they were and what they had fought for, they rejected the United States and turned to a renegade squad moving through the Asian wild lands. They had never been heard from since.
The others wanted to continue in the service of their country. Led by Jack, the second tribe continued to make their way to the coast were they would meet the naval force, ready to take them home again.
He seemed lost in his thoughts as GD pulled the truck into his garage. They stepped from the car, GD leading the way through the door to the house.
Jack stepped through the door and voices greeted him. Voices he hadn’t heard in years. He pushed past the arms reaching out to grab him and entered one of the guestrooms. His mind was going a thousand miles an hour, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Whump! His dreamless sleep ended with a pillow crashing on his head. Daylight was streaming through the window. he looked around, trying to determine where the pillow came from. In the other bed, Mac was still sleeping. But there was no one else in the room.
Jack slowly stretched. Sleep had renewed his body but his mind was still drowsy. He didn’t see Mac’s arm reaching over the other side of the bed. Jack struck at the still form in the bed. His pillow connected with Mac’s back, and he felt something hit his chest hard. Water dripped off his chest, the force blasting him back to his own bed. In Mac’s hand was one of Mista D’s water guns. “Welcome back, Jack!”
They growled and grappled, rolling across the floor crashing into the wall and knocking a book case down on top of them. Mac pulled back to a crouch, his tongue hanging out, panting. “Feels good to be back with the boys, don’t it Jack?”
“Damn good, Mac.” Jack stood and stretched. His back cracked as he reached for the ceiling. “Damn good to be back.”
GD popped his head in to the room, regarding the scattered books with disgust. “You boys better get out here. We’re getting briefed in fifteen minutes.” He disappeared, then stuck his head back. “Better pick those up before I see them.”