ran 3.9 miles
The moon hung swallowed in darkness unadorned by stars. Like a lone pearl lazily strung on a frail thread the night sky seemed determined to part with its one dim speck of light. Silence as vast as the darkness engulfed the hour.
Two figures stood under a flickering streetlight. They were identical in their shadowy appearances. The edges of their trench coats rustled against their knees in an eerily gentle gust. The moon surrendered to black and the air suddenly stood still, like prey frozen in fear, as one of the figures leaned into the other and spoke.
“Your associate failed to complete his mission. He had succeeded in infiltrating the rebel group but was unable to complete the end task. What we know is that Jonas Cassidy is currently in the presence of who we think is the leader of the rebels. Her underground name is Erica Darco. She is with two other men whom we do not know the identities of. They are inconsequential. The objective remains the same except for one thing. We now want Jonas alive.”
A cricket chirped a rusted tune as a dark cloud formed above. Tides rose and children fell asleep. Men thought of plans and women worried. Teenagers walked the streets of their night world with blind rage and visible disbelief. News was the same old news and on the face of every Ex-American was the same old, lost American face. The chirping stopped as the second figure spoke.
“Regardless of how futile their ideas and resources are they continue to be a step ahead of us. We need to take a different approach.”
There was a pause like the space between a bad joke and a fake laugh. It had seemed only a moment for one but an eternity for the other.
He continued, “I understand what these people are after. I used to be like them. Jonas Martin Cassidy is a trumped up bluff. I don’t think he even fully understands what he is doing, why he is there or where he plans on going. He has no direction and yet he is driven. Insanity is his only motive…none of his decisions make any sense.”
The other man laughed quietly and employed sarcasm.
“Yet United North America with all of its government resources cannot apprehend or figure out this troublesome man? Insanity seems to be on his side. You are telling me, Mr. Corso, that ‘insanity’ is the best scapegoat you have to resort to as an excuse? I would like to believe that you could do better than that. This national continent is the strongest government in world history and you have the audacity to tell me that ‘insanity’ is our largest obstacle in apprehending one man? One man, Mr. Corso, is all we ask of you…and your deceased associate. Can you do what we are asking?
Mr. Corso was shaken. He was curious about the awry fate of his associate and he was fearful of the ultimatum just placed on his head. His lone ally on this cold, dark night was stolid and stern. He spoke in a tone of voice that demanded full attention.
“Let me explain something to you, Mr. Corso. It’s very simple. You are completely missing the larger picture with all of your words and ideas. I don’t want to hear words. I want to see Jonas Martin Cassidy in our custody. There is nothing more or less that you can do for me. And I don’t care if you think you know Jonas or if you used to be like him. You’re not him. You are not nearly as dedicated or focused, or as ‘insane’ as he is.
Listen. Let me explain something to you. There is a common fabric uniting all causes and actions. No cause lacks importance and no action goes unnoticed. The common fabric is selfishness. Nothing is done to any end without some kind of self-gratification. Actions take on importance and notice only because people want to be important and noticed. They are selfish. In Jonas’ case he feels guilty and obligated to atone for something; which in essence is a selfishness to fulfill one’s own needs. What he feels guilty about is what we need to find out. Every man has a corner deep in his mind and soul that orders his being and decides his actions regardless of what he thinks is right or wrong. Some men or motivated by irrepressible guilt and others are moved by sheer power. Jonas is not after power. He would rather die an unknown soldier than indulge in fame. We need to find what it is that Jonas Martin Cassidy is so willing to sacrifice everything for. What is it that he is so willing to die for?”
The streetlight above stopped flickering suddenly as though someone had a point to make. It did not beam on high power or cut out completely. It hummed a continuous, low voltage hint of light respective to the moon above it.
“The world, Mr. Corso, is a slippery chessboard with contracting and expanding boundaries. Rows after endless rolling rows of pawns mill away their time in tiny squares performing tasks and doing random things that not even they fully understand. Often curious what their purposes are and why it is they continue their questionable routines each day, they assign value to their actions and pride to their beliefs. This is what makes them human even though they constantly sacrifice and give their lives for Kings and Queens, often, whether they choose to or not. However, it is actually the knights, bishops and rooks that weave the world’s fabric.
You are a knight, bishop or a rook. You can choose. You are a play to ensure the survival of your King. We need you to capture an pawn. You need to understand how important this is.
Kings and Queens, Presidents, Czars, Prime Ministers, Shahs and Emperors possess no power without knights, bishops and rooks. Similarly, pawns have no voice or direction without the guidance or deceit of knights, bishops and rooks. Pawns are like ants that swarm and make a big fuss for a mere three or four minutes when a foot kicks their hill, only to pick up the pieces and to forget about it. And as it is the foot of the King or Queen, hung from puppet strings, that keeps kicking their anthill, it is the knights, bishops and rooks grinning in the shadows.
Knights, bishops and rooks are the weavers of everything that has led to our continental union. They are manufacturers of disillusion for the greater cause and freewill for the lesser few who understand the shackles of freedom.
To not accept the human element, the historically provable fact that we are by nature often selfish and destructive, that our good intentions rarely ever tip a scale of altruistic worth, and that we are completely unpredictable from one decade to another from one country to another is suicidal to human progress.
Knights, bishops and rooks…they are the only pieces of the world game that do not need to follow the rules of kings or queens and most certainly do not need to listen to millions of pawns. People like you, Mr. Corso, are certainly a convenience but do not overlook how dispensable and replaceable you are. We want Jonas alive and we want him now.”
1,202.5 miles to go.
Chapter 13
The moon hung swallowed in darkness unadorned by stars. Like a lone pearl lazily strung on a frail thread the night sky seemed determined to part with its one dim speck of light. Silence as vast as the darkness engulfed the hour.
Two figures stood under a flickering streetlight. They were identical in their shadowy appearances. The edges of their trench coats rustled against their knees in an eerily gentle gust. The moon surrendered to black and the air suddenly stood still, like prey frozen in fear, as one of the figures leaned into the other and spoke.
“Your associate failed to complete his mission. He had succeeded in infiltrating the rebel group but was unable to complete the end task. What we know is that Jonas Cassidy is currently in the presence of who we think is the leader of the rebels. Her underground name is Erica Darco. She is with two other men whom we do not know the identities of. They are inconsequential. The objective remains the same except for one thing. We now want Jonas alive.”
A cricket chirped a rusted tune as a dark cloud formed above. Tides rose and children fell asleep. Men thought of plans and women worried. Teenagers walked the streets of their night world with blind rage and visible disbelief. News was the same old news and on the face of every Ex-American was the same old, lost American face. The chirping stopped as the second figure spoke.
“Regardless of how futile their ideas and resources are they continue to be a step ahead of us. We need to take a different approach.”
There was a pause like the space between a bad joke and a fake laugh. It had seemed only a moment for one but an eternity for the other.
He continued, “I understand what these people are after. I used to be like them. Jonas Martin Cassidy is a trumped up bluff. I don’t think he even fully understands what he is doing, why he is there or where he plans on going. He has no direction and yet he is driven. Insanity is his only motive…none of his decisions make any sense.”
The other man laughed quietly and employed sarcasm.
“Yet United North America with all of its government resources cannot apprehend or figure out this troublesome man? Insanity seems to be on his side. You are telling me, Mr. Corso, that ‘insanity’ is the best scapegoat you have to resort to as an excuse? I would like to believe that you could do better than that. This national continent is the strongest government in world history and you have the audacity to tell me that ‘insanity’ is our largest obstacle in apprehending one man? One man, Mr. Corso, is all we ask of you…and your deceased associate. Can you do what we are asking?
Mr. Corso was shaken. He was curious about the awry fate of his associate and he was fearful of the ultimatum just placed on his head. His lone ally on this cold, dark night was stolid and stern. He spoke in a tone of voice that demanded full attention.
“Let me explain something to you, Mr. Corso. It’s very simple. You are completely missing the larger picture with all of your words and ideas. I don’t want to hear words. I want to see Jonas Martin Cassidy in our custody. There is nothing more or less that you can do for me. And I don’t care if you think you know Jonas or if you used to be like him. You’re not him. You are not nearly as dedicated or focused, or as ‘insane’ as he is.
Listen. Let me explain something to you. There is a common fabric uniting all causes and actions. No cause lacks importance and no action goes unnoticed. The common fabric is selfishness. Nothing is done to any end without some kind of self-gratification. Actions take on importance and notice only because people want to be important and noticed. They are selfish. In Jonas’ case he feels guilty and obligated to atone for something; which in essence is a selfishness to fulfill one’s own needs. What he feels guilty about is what we need to find out. Every man has a corner deep in his mind and soul that orders his being and decides his actions regardless of what he thinks is right or wrong. Some men or motivated by irrepressible guilt and others are moved by sheer power. Jonas is not after power. He would rather die an unknown soldier than indulge in fame. We need to find what it is that Jonas Martin Cassidy is so willing to sacrifice everything for. What is it that he is so willing to die for?”
The streetlight above stopped flickering suddenly as though someone had a point to make. It did not beam on high power or cut out completely. It hummed a continuous, low voltage hint of light respective to the moon above it.
“The world, Mr. Corso, is a slippery chessboard with contracting and expanding boundaries. Rows after endless rolling rows of pawns mill away their time in tiny squares performing tasks and doing random things that not even they fully understand. Often curious what their purposes are and why it is they continue their questionable routines each day, they assign value to their actions and pride to their beliefs. This is what makes them human even though they constantly sacrifice and give their lives for Kings and Queens, often, whether they choose to or not. However, it is actually the knights, bishops and rooks that weave the world’s fabric.
You are a knight, bishop or a rook. You can choose. You are a play to ensure the survival of your King. We need you to capture an pawn. You need to understand how important this is.
Kings and Queens, Presidents, Czars, Prime Ministers, Shahs and Emperors possess no power without knights, bishops and rooks. Similarly, pawns have no voice or direction without the guidance or deceit of knights, bishops and rooks. Pawns are like ants that swarm and make a big fuss for a mere three or four minutes when a foot kicks their hill, only to pick up the pieces and to forget about it. And as it is the foot of the King or Queen, hung from puppet strings, that keeps kicking their anthill, it is the knights, bishops and rooks grinning in the shadows.
Knights, bishops and rooks are the weavers of everything that has led to our continental union. They are manufacturers of disillusion for the greater cause and freewill for the lesser few who understand the shackles of freedom.
To not accept the human element, the historically provable fact that we are by nature often selfish and destructive, that our good intentions rarely ever tip a scale of altruistic worth, and that we are completely unpredictable from one decade to another from one country to another is suicidal to human progress.
Knights, bishops and rooks…they are the only pieces of the world game that do not need to follow the rules of kings or queens and most certainly do not need to listen to millions of pawns. People like you, Mr. Corso, are certainly a convenience but do not overlook how dispensable and replaceable you are. We want Jonas alive and we want him now.”
1,202.5 miles to go.
