A True History - Book OneChapter 26 free porn video

I put Angelica down on the ground. Lance Corporal Puckett walked over to the name, then put his hands on the wall. “Thank you for your sacrifice, that my wife could come to my home, from there.” His face went blank for a second, then his jaw dropped. He turned to me. “How? How did he do that?”

“There are some things that even I am not allowed to talk about. I’m sorry.”

“I ... I understand.” Puckett drew himself up to attention, then saluted the wall.

“Trang, do you have, in your purse, some pocket change? I haven’t carried any since New York, I’m afraid.”

She quickly pulled out a handful. I took three quarters from her, squished them between my thumb and hand, then engraved Trang Puckett, Steve Puckett, and Angel on them. “Here you go. A souvenir of your trip that no one else will have.”

I turned to Officer Wilhite. “Some memorials are a joke, such as the ones I recently destroyed in Moscow, Beijing, and Pyongyang. This one, this is not. This is a living memorial. You are honored to be here. Treat these men and women with respect. I am the Messenger from Above. I have a message for the government of Vietnam. Find the remains of the Americans that died there. Return them to their families. I have another message to those who dishonored the men and women who came home from Vietnam. I have heard ... okay, Trang figured it out, I watched your television and listened to your radio, that’s how I know all your languages.” I turned to the reporter and camera.

“But that also means I’ve watched how you treated your returning soldiers from this war. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Each country, now that I am here, will no longer fight with other countries. But those who honorably served, or were willing to serve, and came home to be spit upon? They gave their lives so that you could call their brothers and sisters terrible names. Don’t you feel proud of yourselves right now? It is you who did that, that I pity, for you never learned anything from the previous Messenger from Above.” I stopped talking, then chuckled. “Sorry, almost said too much at this point. Oh, and in case it’s not been obvious, the Secret Service may as well stand down. I’m not going to hurt President Reagan or Vice President Bush. I simply need to ... deliver a message. I’d prefer to not cause a lot of property damage. It should be obvious I will, if need be.”

With that, I took off, into the air, flying rather low, only about 50 feet up, and barely 30 miles an hour, to the middle of the mall. I stopped just over the Jefferson Pier Marker, looked at the Washington Monument, nodded, then turned due north. I almost wanted to go slower. I was ... perturbed, to say the least. I had told everyone in the family the truth about what happened when people died. But we’d never, in anything I’d ever read, had the kind of clarity of communication that I’d just had. Or that Angelica or Steve Puckett had felt. I was half tempted to just go home. It didn’t take me long to cross the fence and the South Lawn, where I landed in the Rose Garden, just outside the Oval office.

Two members of the Secret Service met me. “Sir, if you’ll come with us, this way, we’ll take you in to meet the President.” Okay, not exactly what I was expecting.

I followed them in, through the large door. President Reagan was sitting behind his desk in a long sleeve shirt, but with no tie on. Four other men and a woman were seated on couches, facing the President. One of the men was in a military uniform, the other three were in suits. Three other men were standing by the walls, one with a camera, and two women were there also, with notepads.

I used my vision to scan the door. “Interesting. Built in bomb and metal detector, as well as heavily reinforced, while maintaining the aesthetic design. Nicely done.”

“Please, come in, and sit,” Reagan said.

“Certainly. But, introductions first.” I walked to each of the people sitting down, holding my hand out. The first man quickly stood up. “General John Vessey, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

“Ambassador to the United Nations Jeane Kirkpatrick.”

“Secretary of State Alexander Haig.”

“Caspar Weinberger, Secretary of Defense. I go by Cap.” I nodded.

The last man reluctantly stood up. “William Casey, Director of the CIA.”

I nodded to them. “Gentlemen, ma’am, I’m ... well, I still have to go by my title for now, which is the Messenger from Above. Perhaps one of these days, I’ll be able to tell you my name. Presuming you could pronounce it, of course. I see that you’ve been watching the local station. I thank you for your courtesy in allowing me to visit with you peacefully.” I sat down in a chair.

Casey said, “I didn’t think we had much choice in the matter.”

I laughed. “Mister Casey, you always have a choice, just as you’ve always had a choice about what you can or will do. All of your choices have consequences, of course. The issue that I believe you’re facing is you don’t particularly like the consequences of what your choices can or will bring, at this particular moment in time.”

Kirkpatrick frowned. “While I agree with what appears to be the result of your actions regarding Israel, I’m not sure I approve of your calling the United Nations a joke.”

“I believe, if I’ve heard this correctly, that you have a saying. If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and looks like a duck, it’s probably a duck. Whatever that is, anyway. In this case, I thought I was being perfectly clear. The United Nations, as it exists right now, is a complete joke. You know that. I’m not saying there aren’t good people there. But if you put someone on a committee about human rights from a nation that’s known for violating human rights, don’t be shocked that nothing is done. That’s the one piece of free advice I’ll give you.”

Haig looked offended. “We’re a sovereign nation. It sounds like you’re dictating to us what we can and can’t do.”

“Either you’re misunderstanding what I’ve said, being deliberately obtuse, or are just plain stupid, I’m not exactly sure which.” I watched his eyes go wide at that. I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs, putting my fingertips together in front of me. “End the fighting. That seems pretty simple to me. Hey, you kids, quit fighting over there. Live in peace. Now, shake hands, and make up. Surely your mother or father told you that at some point or another. I have admitted the third part, destroy the drugs, is all on me. But that’s, to a certain extent, due to the issues that I’ve seen around the world that those drugs and their addictions cause.”

“As a point of clarification, I’m actually referring to drugs that are abused, such as cocaine, methamphetamine, and certain opioids. A drug that is currently illegal in this country, marijuana, is effectively harmless. With the additional clarification that I’m not referring to another drug you people tend to abuse, which is alcohol. That can destroy lives, but typically not across national borders.” I paused for a moment. “I think I understand why I only had two messages given to me by ... my superiors, shall we say? Either way, I really don’t feel like changing my message. I’ve had nothing but great performance reviews over my career, so I’m willing to bet that they wanted to see if I’d do this on my own initiative.”

“Sorry, I was thinking aloud. I’ve noticed that I’ve started doing that over the last few centuries. Do something like this for a few thousand years, you develop certain habits. Anyway, as a sovereign nation, you can pretty much do whatever you want to, within your own borders, so long as it doesn’t negatively affect your neighbors in a violent way. You don’t want to sell a product to Canada or to Germany, don’t sell it. You want to send troops to Germany, or more CIA Agents to Pakistan ... don’t do that. I’m trying to make my lessons as ... painless, relatively speaking ... as I can.”

“Whether that lesson includes incinerating most of the government officials in Pakistan, or killing tens of thousands of North Koreans, or flinging a sniper a few miles into the sea, simply consider that to be the stick. The carrot is that your planet won’t have to worry about all that military spending on war. Think about how much money you’ll be saving by NOT having to have troops in South Korea, or in Germany. You’ll no longer need those submarines running around, ready to launch ballistic missiles. At the same time, your economies will flourish at a rate never before seen as you develop effective space travel and start mining your satellite and the asteroid belt.”

Reagan finally spoke. “So, what do you want of us?”

“I’m glad you asked. Follow my three rules. Really, that’s it. I told the Soviets baby steps, after all. Start bringing your troops that are in other nations home. They were involved in a shooting war in Afghanistan, so I gave them a bit of a time constraint. Right now, you’re doing a little messing around in Honduras, to help them against Nicaragua, have some AWACS planes helping Chad against Libya, and also helping Saudi Arabia because Iran was being a pain, but other than the fiasco last year ... not on your part, on Cuba for thinking they could mess with the US in anything conventional, you’re actually being rather peaceful, all things considered.”

“Thank you, I think?”

“You’re welcome, Mister Reagan. That was intended as a compliment. I see no reason why you shouldn’t have all of your forces home by the end of the year, if you try.” I heard a couple of gasps from behind me. “Note that I’m not saying you have to take apart the bases and buildings. Just bring your troops and their gear home. You’ll be able to stay in those places that are your territories, of course. Um, that doesn’t apply to the operations of the CIA. Everyone that works for Mister Casey, directly or indirectly, will be back in the United States by the end of October. Period. You’ll also note that I’ve not said a word about anyone’s embassies. Those are considered your soil. You don’t attack an embassy without declaring war upon the other people. I could tell you of a couple of planets that thought otherwise. Of course, they’re not around any more, but hardly the point. Or maybe it is.”

“General Vessey, I’m certain that you’ve received reports from the Marine Guards that I’ve interacted with, my treatment of them. The police officers in New York. Perhaps you heard from the Swedish Embassy in Pyongyang as well. I am not some raving, bloodthirsty monster. Nor am I an insane megalomaniac. I use the amount of force that I deem necessary to get my point across.” I paused, thinking.

Weinberger asked in the silence, “What about my job, defense?”

“I’m sorry if I haven’t made things clear. You are free to defend yourselves against any aggression. I’ve hoped that your forces assisting those of the Soviet Union in cleaning Syria out of Lebanon, will then leave peacefully when that job is complete. If you’re referring to your mutual defense treaties ... those will no longer be necessary. Quite frankly, your strategic defense initiative is, from your perspective, almost ideal. If you control the high orbitals, you control the planet. The problem is that no one nation can be allowed to do so, for they will do so to the detriment of others. And, of course, your United Nations is such a joke that you ought to empty the building and turn it into something useful, like a garbage recycling center. An actual legitimate planetary government is the only one that can ... damn.”

I stopped, my head bent. The others looked at me with concern, President Reagan going so far as to get up from his chair and start to come around the desk to me. I brought my head back up, my hand up. “No, thank you. I appreciate the concern. I apologize for my rant. I said some things that I shouldn’t. Quite bluntly, I was still upset from what I encountered in your Vietnam War Memorial. I wonder, if I had touched the statue of Lincoln, if he would have been in there, like that Marine was. So proud to serve his country, so sad that he was killed so young, for a cause that was ultimately denied by his nation. Yet so pleased to meet the little girl that his sacrifice had allowed to be born.”

“There was nothing in Lenin’s Tomb. The monument and Mao’s body were just as empty of anything. The same with the monument in Pyongyang. Empty, lifeless, nothing more than simple constructions to ego. That strength, and what I saw behind so many other names on that wall ... I’ve seldom come across such a force before. We’ve known about this for literally thousands of your years, which is why I find so many of your religions to be amusing at best. This ... I’m curious now. I’ll have to do more explorations of your nation and similar monuments in other countries. This is surprising, considering how otherwise primitive you are.”

Reagan chuckled. “I feel a bit like we’re naughty children, being told to pick up our toys that we’ve scattered about, or we’ll be punished.”

“I almost wish that I didn’t have this mask on, Ronald. That way you could see the grin on my face right now. Your comment just then redeems a lot of my faith in this country, which, to be perfectly blunt, was lacking, considering the comments from these others that are supposed to advise you. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but then, nothing that’s worth doing is ever easy. I mean, you should have seen how many attempts it took me to learn how to fly the first time I was given that ability.” I noticed that the TV screen in their office was still showing a live view from the Vietnam Memorial. I stood up, causing everyone to tense up a little.

“I’ve grown a bit more able, though, over time. You’re one of the Secret Service agents that is sworn to protect the President, aren’t you?” The man nodded. “Good. You’ll do. Ronald, let’s go for a little stroll.” I walked to the door leading out to the Rose Garden. Fascinated, Reagan followed me, the agent with him. “I’m sure you’ve seen Washington from a helicopter before.” I quickly moved, grabbing Reagan with one arm, the Agent with the other, and took off.

The Agent said into his microphone, “Condition Angel, I repeat, Condition Angel. Rawhide and I are being ... flown about right now.”

“Very good, Agent...”

“Matthews. James Matthews.”

“James, it sounds like you thought this might happen. That speaks of excellent planning on your part. I would tell you not to worry, but I know that’s part of your job, especially with the assassination attempt a few years ago. Are you feeling okay, Ronald?”

“Yes, actually. Thank you for asking. This is rather exhilarating.” I rose until we were even with the windows of the Washington Monument. “I feel almost like I’m in an open roller coaster up here, able to see all around. Thank you.”

“I figured that someone might throw a fit if I didn’t at least give you a bit of a lift. I saw that there were several reporters now at the Vietnam Memorial. James, if you want to tell your friends, that’s where we’re going. I don’t want them to be obtrusive, though.”

I flew them over there, coming in for a landing near where two rather large, burly, men, with long hair and black vests on, were standing. They were looking at one name on the wall. Other people were giving them a wide berth, because of their looks. We landed near them. “Attention on deck!” I loudly said.

Both men snapped to, even though from their looks, it’d been years since either of them had worn a uniform. One of them quickly recovered, his face angry when he turned to look at us. Then he recognized President Reagan, snapping back to attention and saluting. His friend did the same. “At ease, men,” Reagan said. “Our ... friend here brought me for a quick visit to this place. We didn’t want to disturb you.”

“It’s ... our honor, Mister President. We were on a ride, and we had to stop here. One of our buddies ... he’s buried at home, but I wanted to see his name here, with the others.”

I let go of Reagan and Matthews, but led Reagan closer to the wall. I could actually feel the name on the wall, the force behind it. “Ronald, put your hand up, there. On that name.” He did so. His eyes opened wide. I put my hand up by his. “Lance Corporal Jerry Edwin Barker, 3rd Marine Division, 3rd Battalion. Killed Quang Tri province, September 17th, 1969. Yes, this is the President of the United States touching you now.” I looked at the men. “Mister Pat Ramsey, your friend wants to say hello again.”

One of the men looked at the other, disbelief in his eyes. He stepped forward, putting his hand on the wall. I looked at Reagan. Tears were running down his face. He could hear what I ... somehow ... heard. Faintly, a voice saying, “I’m glad you made it home, Pat. Semper Fi, buddy.”

The big guy broke down in tears. Reagan was still Presidential. “Son ... I’m sorry you’re gone. You have my word, I’ll do my best to make sure all your brothers and sisters come home. And that we do what this Messenger has told us, to live in peace from now on.” Reagan bowed his head. “No, you’re right. If that does happen, then you will not have sacrificed your life for nothing. Thank you, son.” He was crying so hard at that point, he collapsed to his knees.

A couple of reporters and their crews had come up when they saw us land. The view that went out live, across most of the nation, was of me, standing with my hands on the shoulders of, and comforting, a big, burly Vietnam veteran that was hugging President Reagan, both of them crying on each other’s shoulders. Agent Matthews didn’t know what to do, so he just moved so that he was behind Reagan, facing outward.

Two golf carts full of Secret Service agents came rolling down the pathway. The senior agent in the first one realized, when I turned my head towards them, that they needed to stop far enough back to not disturb what was going on. The other motorcycle veteran said, “Pat, are you okay?”

Ramsey realized that he was actually hugging and crying on the President of the United States about then. “Oh, my god, Mister President, I’m so sorry. Larry, can you...” He realized that my hand was still on his shoulder. He turned to me. “Who are you?”

“I’m the Messenger from Above.” I took my hands from their shoulders, put them palm up, and helped both men rise. “I am here to deliver a simple message. End the fighting. Destroy the drugs. And live in peace. As President Reagan just heard, your friend, who died in Vietnam, said that if this happens, his sacrifice will not have been in vain.”

“How is that possible? I heard him, talking to me, as clear as you’re talking to me now?”

“This is a sacred place, a place where many of those who died have gathered their power so that those who would listen to them, can hear them. Would you agree with that, Ronald?”

“I’m ... I’m not very presidential right now. That’s possibly the most overwhelming emotional event I’ve had in my entire life.”

“Then I will consider my message delivered. Pat, do you have a quarter on you? And what’s your friend’s name?”

They both looked puzzled, but the other man said, “Larry Ramsey. I’m Pat’s brother.”

Matthews said, “Here you go. It’s not a quarter, but will this do?” He handed me some subway tokens.

I took them, flattened them, then used my vision to engrave their first initials on them. I handed them out, with the two bikers looking in awe at what I’d just done. “How’d you do that?”

I laughed. “I take it you two haven’t seen much news in the last month or so. It’s too long for me to get into, here. I’m sure that, over a nice lunch at the White House, you’ll get all the explanations you need.” Behind them, I saw the Puckett family. “Steve, Trang, Angelica, please come on up. Mister Reagan, you don’t mind having these five people as guests for your lunch, do you?”

“Not at all, Sir, not at all.”

“Very good. Then, I shall ... oh, one last thing. You might just consider having Mister Haig get with Mister Gromyko over the phone, to have a word with President Belisario Betancur. It’s time for FARC to come to an end, as well as the cocaine production in that country and region. I will not object if you work together to end it. It’ll probably be a lot less ... messy ... than if I do. I’m more likely to use the method I used to destroy the minefields of North Korea. Although, as I control the high orbitals, by using rocks from a couple thousand miles up. Please, feel free to blame me. After all, I’m just using you as my messenger.” I started laughing. Reagan chuckled a bit. I slowly rose until I was about 50 feet up. “Bye, little Angel!” I shot into the sky, not stopping until I was 100 miles up.

I continued to climb while going north, finally stopping when I was almost 200 miles high, near Ottawa. I was concerned about radar and other things tracking me. I turned west, purposely heading into the atmosphere at a high speed, to generate a lot of heat from friction. I didn’t detect anything, but I wouldn’t have put it past the CIA to try to plant a bug on me. And I was curious to see if it would bother me. Interestingly enough, even though the air around me glowed red hot, I didn’t feel anything. Nor was my Scout uniform affected. I came to a dead stop, about 50 miles up, over Lake Superior. My internal clock told me I had plenty of time, so I barely exceeded twice the speed of sound the rest of the way back home.

I dropped down to 5 miles up, making sure that I wasn’t seen by a couple of jets that were passing through. I used my vision to check out that Elroy and Harry were okay and there was no one around. Once I did that, I quickly dropped, slowing myself down just below treetop level. I landed, then jogged back to the truck. I changed clothes and went over to where the two men were sitting with beers in their hands.

“I hope you got a mess of fish, or have the two of you just been drinking all day?”

“I’m glad I heard the truck door, or you might have startled me and made me do something bad, like spill my beer. On the other hand, I suspect you’re going to be driving us home tonight,” Harry said.

“Lightweight. Although I seem to have filtered quite a number of cans through my kidneys today as well. As for fishing ... check out the stringers.”

I pulled them up. “Is the normal phrase, looks like they were hungry, or something like that? Somehow, I don’t think this is the usual amount of fish you’d catch.”

“Shit, we had those all within the first two hours this morning. That’s why we’re both so snockered. If we hadn’t of been waiting for you, I’d have gone home long ago. Not that I’m mad or anything. This has been relaxing for me, considering the shit I’ve had to put up with in town. Of course, I think you’re going to help me up, I don’t know if I can walk or not.”

“Come on, Elroy, let me give you a hand.” I helped him, then Harry, into the truck, then picked everything up. The cooler had held two cases of beer in it. It was now empty. I collected all the cans, then filled the cooler up with lake water, putting the fish stringers in there so they’d still be alive when we got home.

Both of them were asleep before we made it to the main road. I stopped at the gas station in Yoder again. “Mister Yoder, I just stopped to say, thank you for the tip.”

“No problem, Son.” He looked out the window. “Heh! I’m guessing you’re not old enough to drink like they did.”

“No, Sir. I’ve had ... one single beer, one time. Not really my taste.”

“My sons tell me that they’re going to start work on Monday for Jim Rogers, that there’s liable to be jobs for a good two years just in construction up there. That one of the ladies there said that if they have someone who can make good furniture, they can sell it to people on the west coast for five times what it’d get here.”

“Sounds like Marcia. She has two houses that she inherited when her parents died, and she’s got some connections with major firms in Seattle and Los Angeles.”

“And you don’t? I heard a bit more, put a couple of things together. I didn’t know that the Judge was retiring, that word hadn’t gotten down this way yet. I’m guessing the Judge told you I’m not the hick country gas station owner I try to let people see, because that’s what they expect.”

“Something like that. For what it’s worth, I really am only sixteen. And I know that material wealth isn’t what you folks seek. But just so you do know, if you haven’t figured all of it out, I’ve taken over just about everything financially from Elroy. My job is to make sure that Hutchinson and Reno County, which includes Yoder, are well taken care of, for the future. I’m flying to New York tomorrow. If I can get the company to agree, that’ll give us the third manufacturing facility. I already have two ready to go. I wasn’t kidding when I said I had thousands of jobs going to create.”

He nodded. “You don’t mind if I get some family from back east to come out, do you?”

“Family is the most important thing in the world, Mister Yoder. You take care of your family first. And just so you know, everyone in Reno County is part of my family. On an unrelated note, what’s the approximate price of fresh bass or walleye pike, per pound?”

“Oh, bass is probably two dollars a pound, for a filet. Walleye maybe five bucks. Why?”

“We wouldn’t have gotten the load we did without your help. I thought it only fair to reward you for that tip. I’m just hoping these two sober up enough when we get home to show me how to filet them properly.” I pulled three twenty dollar bills out of my wallet. “That’s for about a fourth of the weight of fish we got. Have a good day.”

“You caught that many fish today? That’s a great job, then. I don’t think I can take your money, though.”

“Yes, you can. Don’t worry, you earned it with that tip. Take care now.”

I turned at Stroud Road, so I could check out what had been done today. The spinning blades were visible from Yoder Road, so I knew something must’ve worked. There were two trucks that I recognized sitting in the field, along with another that I didn’t. That one had markings on it from the Ark Valley Co-op. I pulled over, in behind Jim’s truck.

“What’s going on, guys? I guess this is working like I hoped it would.”

Jim shook his head. “Yeah, slightly. We got this up early this morning, and since we’re doing the site work for your temporary headquarters, we had Ark Valley come out to put in the temporary meter. They saw this, and ... well, this is just AFTER all the fun, only one of their trucks is left.”

Marcia walked over from where she’d been standing at the Ark Valley truck. “Nothing like making a statement right from the beginning, my love. Ark Valley wants at least a dozen of these, maybe more, if the price is right and it keeps working.”

“Um, this was supposed to be my proof of concept, to show Siemens on Saturday. I’ve got, what, fifty thousand or so in this one, just as the prototype? I didn’t order quantities of parts for mass production.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t want to let them know that. I told them it’d probably be close to a hundred thousand each, and they didn’t even blink at that,” she said.

“I guess I’m confused here. Did I mess up in my calculations or something?”

The door opened on the truck, a tall gentleman wearing a set of coveralls with Ark Valley Co-op on one side, Colton Masters on the other, got out. “Howdy, you must be Cal. I’m Colt Masters, Senior Lineman. We’ll have someone monitoring this through the weekend, but it’s been steady on our equipment ever since we hooked it up. This is something else, I tell you. I’ve been doing this for almost thirty years, seen a lot of different sources. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible. But, since it’s you that did it, I guess that reputation you have of being a super-genius is deserved.”

“Thank you, I think. This is supposed to be a prototype, simply to show proof of concept. I take it that it’s succeeded in doing that.”

“I guess that depends upon how much power you thought it’d make. We got it hooked into the feeder line, running through our equipment. We’ve got it backfeeding, so basically unless there’s an issue, like the wind completely goes away, it’ll still be generating on this line. I’m not sure HOW you managed to get it to handle the variation in speed, but it’s putting out effectively the same amount of power regardless of whether the wind is blowing at 5 or 25, we’ve been checking.”

Marcia said, “We made a deal, earlier, that we’d simply donate the power this generates for the next 30 days, to Ark Valley, in return for their monitoring. If it continues to work like it has so far, then they’ll want to buy some of them. It’ll be a large capital expense, but we can make payment arrangements with them. These will help with some of their electricity costs, since they don’t generate their own power and have to buy it. Have you come up with a payoff time, Mister Masters?”

“Yeah. We’ll have to see what the actual lifespan is, but I’ve inspected everything twice. I’d put up a sturdier tower, but I understand this is a prototype. Anyway, based upon a unit cost of one hundred thousand dollars, and an electric cost of five cents per kilowatt Hour, and of course that the wind blows ... which this is Kansas, so that’s not an issue ... I’m figuring each one will pay for itself in just a few months.”