An author will often sneak a true event into a fictional story, embellishing the character or event to fit the overall story line. I have done just that with this small scene between my primary character, General Pug Connor and his friend and colleague, Bill Gordon, the Secretary of Defense for the fictional Republic of Western America. This is from Blood & Treasure, Book Four of the Pug Connor series about an America divided in two by political discord. Life intervenes, however, and this volume has taken the author far longer than it should have. I apologize to those who have been asking when it will be completed. Bill Gordon explains the reason.
Gulf Stream VI
38,000 Feet over Missouri
August, 2017
38,000 Feet over Missouri
August, 2017
The rising sun was just beginning to catch the aircraft
as they crossed over the Mississippi River enroute to Jefferson Capital
Territory. Pug Connor sat in a leather recliner alongside his elderly friend,
Bill Gordon, the Secretary of Defense for the Republic of Western
America. He had been quiet for the
first two hours of the flight from Washington where they had met with the
president of the United States. Quiet, but not sleeping.
As the steward came around with a pot of fresh coffee,
both Pug and Bill accepted a refill.
“Pug, have you ever just stared at the passing
landscape as you were flying across this great land our ancestors tamed? I mean
not reading some report, preparing your talk, or working at a flying desk, but
just considering the hardships they faced?”
“I can’t recall that I did, Bill. I noticed you’ve been
rather intent on watching the lights down below. What brings you to such a
contemplative mood? You look like someone about to retire with nothing to do
afterward?”
Rather than respond, Bill Gordon sipped on his coffee
and then placed it on the tray, turning away from the window.
“I was introduced to an old friend from Vietnam last
week. I didn’t recognize him, actually. He was stealthy in those days, seldom
in uniform. A secret agent in fact. It’s been nearly fifty years since we
served together.”
Pug sensed something ominous in his friend’s tone, but
remained quiet as the story unfolded.
“I was only nineteen when we met, apparently, but I
don’t recall being aware of his presence. A couple of weeks ago I was
introduced to him, formally, by my cardiologist. His cover had been blown for a
few decades, but I still didn’t know him. He went by the name of Agent Orange.
His calling card came to be called Amyloidosis, a very rare, and fatal, blood
disease.”
The penny dropped and Pug took a deep breath. “I read a
report the other day, Bill. It seems several hundred thousand of your age
grouped veterans have also made his re-acquaintance. He didn’t take prisoners,
did he?”
“He still doesn’t, Pug. As devastating as this news
was, the worst part is that Colleen will have to watch the decline and be my
caregiver. I wanted better golden years for her. I wanted to hold her hand,
walk on the beach … all the damned romantic stuff we see on the television. I sure as
hell didn’t want her to have to go through this
with me.”
“Colleen is a remarkable woman, Bill. She’ll be there
for you. We all know that. Is there anything Rachel or I can do?”
The older man thought for a moment then emitted a
bright smile. “You could let me go down the helicopter fast rope with Carlos
one more time,” Bill replied, laughing.
“I’d be at your side if you did, Bill. I’m truly
sorry.”
“Wishful thinking. I haven’t the strength to hold on to
the leather strap in any case. I’m sixty-nine and have lived a damn good life,
Pug. No regrets. This will be one more obstacle to face. I’d appreciate your
keeping it to yourself for a few weeks. Except for Rachel, of course.”
“You have my word, Bill, and my deepest sympathy. You
know how to reach me, day or night.”
