Milwaukee Deep

Sam sat in the passenger seat of the moving vehicle nursing a bruised eye.

“How long before we’re there?” he asked Perks.

“Not too long, how’s that eye feeling?”

“Better - I thought your friend was supposed to pull his punches.”

Perks overtook a slow moving van in front of him.

“He isn’t my friend, Sam, remember he’s CIA.”

Sam produced a tiny smile and felt his left cheek gingerly, checking to see if the swelling had stopped.

“But you’ve got to admit though, Harding had to make it look good or his crew would never have fallen for it,” Perks continued.

“I suppose.”

Sam checked his side mirror to see if they were being followed.

“So do you trust him?” Sam asked.

“Who, Harding? Yeah, I trust him,” replied Perks, “he’s different from other company men.”

“Well I don’t – all CIA guys are the same.”

Perks looked over at Sam.

“Then why are we going to pick up Burton?”

“Because I trust you, Anthony, not Harding - I know you won’t let anything happen to Michael.”

Perks changed lanes to turn right into the next street.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Sam.”

He turned onto the Bell Parkway.

“Let’s just hope Michael feels the same way too.”

The black Cadillac pulled over to the side of the dirt road. The driver stepped out and made his way towards the back passenger door. He opened it and looked in. Sitting in the back seat next to another Secret Service Agent was General White, his hands secured tightly behind his back.

“Time to get out, General,” the agent said.

General White stared out into empty space as he was helped out of the vehicle by the Secret Service Agent, his heart beating fast.

“Come on – this way.”

Both agents led the General into the woods – the rustling of the fallen leaves the only sound made as all three men walked silently into the forest.

“Gentlemen,” the General finally spoke, his voice hoarse, his breathing heavy, “may I ask something of you both?”

The two agents looked across at each other, neither of them saying a word.

“I’ll take your silence to mean yes.”

“Just keep walking, General.”

“I know you think you are doing the right thing here, but have you ever thought that Crane is the one that’s a threat to this nation, not me?”

There was no response as the General was led deeper into the woods.

“Can you at least do something for me before we get down to the business end of this trip?”

“What?” replied one of the agents.

“Find Tom Harding for me – tell him what’s going on – tell him that Crane has lost his mind.”

“I don’t think so, General.”

“No please you must! You don’t understand New York’s in danger! Plan B can only mean one thing!”

One of the agents pushed White along as he stopped and turned to face them.

“Keep moving!”

“Please, you’ve got this all wrong!” Panic was now overwhelming the General.

The two agents looked at each other.

“Stop here, General,” one of them ordered.

The other grabbed the General by the arm.

“Turn around.”

“Please, you don’t understand – Crane is going to destroy New York – he thinks he’s saving us, but he’s not – he’s not!”

“On your knees, General.”

“No, please this is wrong, this all WRONG!”

The agent closest to White kicked the General in the back of the knee, forcing him to the ground. White collapsed face first, his body stretched out over the dirt.

“Get up,” the agent barked as he pulled White up onto his knees.

The General kneeled on the ground, his face full of sweat, his eyes tightly shut, his breathing erratic.

“Please don’t do this!”

The agent pulled out his weapon from inside his coat.

White opened his eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he pleaded, “there’s got to be another way!”

“I’m sorry, General, there isn’t.”

The agent raised his weapon.

“I’m a General for God’s sakes – doesn’t that mean ANYTHING!”

“Yes,” the agent replied, “it means you get a free funeral.”

The agent walked behind the General and squeezed the trigger – two shots directly into the back of the head.

The General hit the ground hard.