The sun is shining its warmth on the earth today. Slowly but surely, it's melting all the snow from yesterday away, leaving green grass behind and ignoring the fact that it's actually autumn. I've been basking in the sun's warmth ever since I woke up, trying to dry off my soaked clothes. It's not very easy to do when you're wearing them but, I enjoy the sun's rays nonetheless. I don't have a watch but I could tell that it was a little after noon because of the sun's position. I've been watching it make its way through the clear blue sky. I thought it was very entertaining but my eyes kept begging me to go to sleep instead and my running nose begged me to put on some dry clothes. Eventually, my eyes start to close. I could get more sleep if I wanted to. I don't need to stay awake like this and watch the sun. It'll still be there to keep me warm and it'll still be there when I wake up.
But as soon as I thought it, a shadow takes the sun away. I snap open my eyes and sit up to see the frog's smiling but sickening face. "Good morning, England. How'd you sleep?"
"I slept in a snow bank all night. How do think I slept?!" I exclaimed.
"Someone's a little cranky." He stretched his arms to the sky and smiled at the sun. "Well, I slept great! I never knew your tent was so comfy! It's more comfy than my old bed and it had sheets of silk."
"Glad you enjoyed it because that's the last time you'll use it."
The frog stops smiling and looks at me with distress. "What? You can't do that!"
I sneeze. "Yes I can. Who's tent is it, huh?"
"But where will I go?" He was wearing my white t-shirt and his boxer shorts which were covered in yellow baby ducks and sunglasses. I try so hard not to mention it. I've been planning this argument ever since I woke up. I'm not going to change the subject just to insult him on his boxers.
"Why don't you stay at one of your many hotels?" I asked, getting up and making my way to my tent to find something that isn't soaking wet to wear. France was hot on my heels with anxious eyes.
"That business went under as soon as they discovered where the owner of the hotel chain came from. That pile of ash across the street was the only one that was fairly successful."
I entered my tent and zipped the zipper behind me while France waited outside like a dog. Looking at the disorganized contents of my tent infuriated me. He messed up everything! "Then why don't you use the money you made to buy a house around here?" I said, through gritted teeth. My uniform better be nowhere near the dirty stuff or I swear I'll kill him.
"Most of it was spent of furniture for my room and if it wasn't, it was stored in a closet. It's all gone now." I pull out a t-shirt and hold it up, scanning it for any unsightly blemishes. So far, it looks promising.
I take off my wet clothes and pull it over my head as well as some nearby khakis. Now to search for my military uniform. "The answer is still no."
"C'mon, England! I can sort out your things in your tent in return."
"I have a system! And you completely obliterated it in your sleep!"
"Why did you let me sleep in there yesterday if you were just going to kick me out the next?"
I ignored him and continued to dig through my things. Eventually I found my pillow which somehow made its way to the other side of the tent. When I moved it out of the way, I found my uniform untouched. Good, I wouldn't know where to go if it got dirty. France's hotel was the only convenient place where I could do it and now it's gone. With everything I needed taken care of, I unzipped the tent where the frog's pleading eyes drilled into my mine.
"I bet this is about how I didn't let you stay in my hotel." I pushed his face away and crawled out of the tent. The sun shined on my face once again. "I'm sorry okay? Please let me stay!"
"France, that tent is all I have to protect me from the elements. You should feel lucky that I took pity on you and let you sleep in it yesterday and let you borrow some of my clothes and let you eat some of my food as well! I'm not giving you any more hand outs—" A loud ring from the tent disrupts my speech. I crawl back in and pull it out as France stares at me with interest. "Hello?"
Lavie's voice comes in through the speaker. "Hi, England; it's me. I need you to watch Rebnia again."
"Sorry Lavie, I can't do that. I have to do something tonight."
"England, please. I can't find anyone else willing to watch him! I can't leave him here alone so late."
"I know that but I really can't. This is a very important business affair. If my boss found out, which he will, there's no telling what he'll do to me."
"Then who's gonna watch him?"
An attention-seeking cough fills the air. "I don't know. Maybe you can call a babysitter?"
"Not a lot of babysitters are willing to come out here and watch him. That's why I depend on Carolin but she's going to a funeral." Another cough resonates, but a little louder.
Another cough, louder still "Hm, this really is problematic."
Then a loud coughing fit broke out behind me. I stared off in the distance with annoyance. "Um, England, are you sick?" She asked.
"No, no. It's something else. Can you wait a minute?"
"Oh, sure." I put my hand over the microphone and gave France a glare. "What is it!?" I whispered.
"Let me watch him!" He whispered back.
"No way. I know about those things you read to Italy back then. I'm not about to let the same thing happen to Rebnia."
"C'mon, he likes me! Plus, you'll be going to that extremely important meeting. There's no way you can be in two places at once."
I thought it over a bit as Lavie's inquiring voice came in through the speaker. What choice do I have? I lifted my hand from the microphone. My lips felt like they were stuck together with glue. It took forever to say it. "I just found someone who would be happy to watch him."
Her chipper voice came through the speakers. "Really? Who is it?"
My teeth grinded against each other. "A business partner of mine named France. I think you've met him before: blonde hair, dresses like a dunce."
"Hey!" France exclaimed. "What are telling her?"
"Yes, I think I remember him. Do you think he's qualified for it?"
France gets closer to me and I swat him away with my free hand. "Not in the least."
"Well, as long as Rebnia doesn't get hurt, it'll be fine. Can he ensure that?"
France takes the phone from my hand. I scowl at him and try to get it back but he keeps turning and twisting out of my reach like a ballerina. I can only imagine how strange we must look. Good thing no one's here. "Don't worry. I can ensure that no problem!" He says, dodging one of my grabs.
"Great. Come on over around six. That includes you England."
"Why should I go?" I say loud enough so it can reach the speaker.
"You need a ride into town, don't you?"
I steal the phone back and put it to my ear. "How did you know?"
"Well, first of all, you don't have a car. Second of all, all public transit is down until further notice. Thirdly, all work is done in town unless you're a farmer and I'm pretty sure you're not."
"When you put it that way, you make it sound so obvious."
"It is. So do you want a ride?"
"I don't think—" France takes the phone back once again. This is really getting old.
"He'll come. See you there!" With that, he ended the call and handed the phone back to me. I clenched it in my trembling hand.
"What was that for?! I can't let her drive me there, you idiot; it's a goddamn shack! She'll get suspicious!" I say, anger taking hold of me.
"Why a shack?"
"So it can be secret!"
"So you want to walk for miles to get there?"
"Yes, well I don't want to but, I don't have a choice!"
"Well now you do!" France smiles. "Look, it's no problem. Just tell her to drop you off at a place that's nearby."
"That's what I'm gonna have to do now thanks to you." I jam my phone into my pocket. "Also, I'm still not letting you stay."
"It's okay."
"Oh, really?" I stare at him with suspicious eyes. He was pleading me, begging me to let him stay and all of a sudden, he's saying it's okay? That's not at all like him. He's more stubborn than a bull.
"Y'know, Rebnia's mother, Lavie, sounds really nice. I wonder if she'd let me stay at her house for a while."
"Don't. You. Dare," I say, emphasizing each word. "I've worked hard to gain their trust and if you blow it now with all that begging and flirting of yours, we'll lose our only primary source of information! Plus, we won't be able to see Rebnia anymore!" France began walking down the road. "Damn it, France, don't be stupid! This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you about this!"
"I'm willing to take that chance! I'll just go ask them now unless you can offer me a certain deal to change my mind." I know what he's trying to do. He's trying to blackmail me into letting him stay. It's written all over his smug, little face. But I honestly believe he'll do it if I don't let him stay. He's getting farther down the road. Ugh, why me? Farther still.
"ALRIGHT! Alright! You win. You can stay," I exclaimed. He turned around and came walking back.
He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a friendly smile. "See? That wasn't so hard!"
"Just take my tent already."
"Oh, England, I'm not that cruel!" I stare at him skeptically. "We'll take turns with it for each night. Alright?"
"Sure."
"Good! Now, let's sort out all that junk, no?" He says, motioning toward the tent.
"I hate you."
OOO
By the time we reached their home, the world was a darker shade and our shadows stretched all the way to the dirt road from their doorstep. Their house was no exception 'cept for the windows which poured light out onto their lawn, helping it to keep the night from stealing their colour. When I looked up, all I saw was a tomato soup sky, spoiling by the hands of the smooth black mould that was night. It wasn't all that windy. Just windy enough so that you could cool off on a summer-like night like tonight. Once again, Mother Nature is bending the rules of seasons. It's really not all that hard: summer is hot, winter is cold, and spring and autumn are transitional periods. She really needs to get her act together.
France knocked on the door with his knuckles in complete silence, his countenance as stiff as a rock. It's hard to believe that he wouldn't shut up the whole walk over here. He went on and on about how cute Rebnia is and similarities about his genetic makeup with America and some other guy and all that other stuff I thought about when I first met him. But the thing that got me interested in what he was saying was when he mentioned what our method should be to contact the others now that his hotel is burned to the ground. I didn't have any idea how we could other than buying a computer but we don't have any money except for my own which I've been earning working as a server at The Maiden's Foy, the bar I met that Irish guy named John in. It hardly pays any but I'm just lucky to have a job at all with all the chaos going on. Plus, I get to hang out with John which makes all the racist customers all the more bearable. I don't know if France has a job other than starting hotel chains that go under in only a couple of weeks. When I asked, he avoided the question and replaced it with another completely random question or comment that usually had something to do with Rebnia thus all the Rebnia rants.
Lavie opened the door with her hair up in a graceful ponytail and a long dress that reached her ankles. It was patterned with Hawaiian flowers and swirling light blue waves. For a minute, I felt as though I was in Hawaii. Boy, wouldn't that be great. She looked over to me. "Hello, England. Rebnia's really excited to see you again."
"Really? I just saw him yesterday," I responded.
She then looked over to France. "So you must be the one who's going to babysit my son. France, was it?"
He grabbed her hand much to her surprise and kissed it. "The pleasure is all mine. You're truly a beautiful woman."
I elbowed him aggressively in his arm. "Ow!" He exclaimed.
"Stop flirting, will you?"
"But how could I not? Just look at her!" He presented her as though she was a model and he was the one with the microphone, adding commentary to the mix. "The ponytail that flows down the back so perfectly for elegance, the spaghetti straps for a way to show off the beautiful skin, the dress with its beautiful design and color palate, and to finish it all off a pair of red Mary Janes for that innocent little school girl look. It's a masterpiece of beauty!"
Lavie's cheeks turned red. "Um, actually, Mr. France, I just put this on for comfort, not for show. Also, I got most of this from a used clothes store."
"You were lucky to find it for these clothes fit you so well. You're more beautiful than the cosmos!" Oh good grief. Not this again. "You're more beautiful than a sunset on the ocean! You're more beautiful than—"
This time I step on his foot. "I'm not going to hear your damn repetition-of-the-same-exact-sentence-structure love poetry! It's not romantic and it's not flattering in the least!"
"It has worked so many times before! Hey, tell me, have you fallen for me because of my words?"
"Um, well, I wouldn't say I've fallen for you. More like flattered," she said, quietly. "Are you guys gonna come inside or—"
"See? I told you!" He said, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face.
"She said flattered which is something completely different. Besides, people don't just fall for someone because of the words they speak. It's also a bit of physical appearance as well and you're not even close to living up to that," I spat.
"You don't know anything about love! I do because I'm one of the most romantic places in the world. You're just the place of bad cooking and bad weather."
"I cook just fine, thank you very much."
"Really? Then explain what happened to Prussia that one time he ate that junk."
"I told you he was sick."
"STOP ARGUING!" Lavie was staring at us with fiery eyes. We immediately ceased. "You two are like a couple of feuding siblings, why is that?"
France put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in with a smile. "We are, belle femme. I'm everyone's older brother!"
She stared at us like we were crazy. I struggled out of his damn arm. "It's more complicated than that."
"So that means that Rebnia's your brother too?" She said.
He smiled. "Yes. Like I said before, I'm everyone's older brother!"
"Uh huh, well that's… interesting. Do you guys want to come in now?"
"Yes, of course!" France responded as Lavie got out of the way.
We entered the house and as soon as we did, I could hear the sound of bare feet hitting the floor. It kept getting louder and louder. Then, from the kitchen, Rebnia comes in like a rocket and locks onto my waist. I almost drop my suitcase in the process. Rebnia looks up at me with stars in his eyes. "Welcome back, Uncle England! I missed you!"
I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Nice to see you too."
He lets go and starts jumping around like a squirrel that drank too much coffee. "You won't believe the kind of stuff I got planned for us today! First, we'll play Save the Lamb Princess and then we'll play Spy! It's a game I thought up of that has an actual continuous plot! We'll have to start where I left off of course but I'll try summarizing what happened so far later. Then we can make pillow forts with blankets and everything! Oh this is going to be so fun!"
I looked over to Lavie who mouthed the word sorry. I guess she didn't tell him what was going on. Looks like I'll have to tell him. "Rebnia, I'm not going to watch you tonight. I have to go to do something in town tonight," I said, softly. Rebnia stopped jumping around and his smile fell.
"But all the stuff I had planned…" he said, quietly.
"You can do all those things with France! It'll still be fun."
"But this is stuff I picked out to do with you…" His eyes were getting glassy.
Aw, jeez. I didn't mean to make him so sad. France and Lavie stared at me, waiting for me to fix everything. But the thing is how can I? I take a deep breath and decide to wing it. "Okay, how about this? If I have time after it's all over, I'll play your games. If I don't, I promise to play them the next time you want me over, alright?" He sniffled and stared at the floor, trying to wipe his tears away with his sleeves. "Alright?" I repeated.
His curl and cowlick nodded in response. "Good boy," I said patting his head.
Rebnia pushed it away and began smiling again. "I'm not a dog, silly!"
"I don't know. Your ears are looking a little floppy today," I say, eying his ears.
"Really?" He gasped. "Is it true Mr. France?"
"Actually, they do look a little more floppy than yesterday," said France, playing along.
"I gotta see this!" Rebnia exclaimed, taking France's hand. "You gotta come with me to see! If it's true, I'll need your help to cure the dog ear disease!"
Rebnia then dragged France to god knows where at full speed. Lavie jingled some keys in her pocket. "You ready to go?"
"I didn't think we'd be leaving so soon," I answered.
"I'm supposed to be there at seven."
"Eight for me. But it's okay, I don't mind getting there early."
"That's good. C'mon, let's go."
I took my seat up front as Lavie closed the door to the house behind her, locking it with her ring of keys. The seat was still nice and cushy from the last time I was in her car. But last time, we were on bad terms and the sky wasn't as dark like it is now. She opened the car door, setting off a dinging sound which was silenced as soon as she closed it. She put in the key and the engine roared to life.
I sighed with relief. "Catastrophe averted, huh?"
"You said it," responded Lavie, pulling the car out of the driveway and onto the dirt road. "You really handled that well."
"Well, when you have as many older siblings as I do, you learn a few things that you shouldn't do to the younger ones."
"You have more siblings?"
"Tons of them! And I'm one of the youngest in the bunch."
"How many are there?"
I take out my hand and begin counting them off. "Well, first there's Rebnia, then there's Scotland, Wales, Ireland, North Ireland, Sealand though he's not worth mentioning, another one who I can't really remember the name of, and Ameri-" I stopped midway and Lavie gave me a curious stare in the rear mirror. Maybe if I quickly end it, she won't notice. "Um, I mean, that's it except for some others which I can list another time—"
"What were you about to say?
Damn it. "What?"
"You were about to list off another brother of yours but you stopped."
"It's nothing that's why I stopped."
"Is it really?" She gave me a pressing stare, pushing me further and further into a corner.
Without meaning to, I let his name slip. "His name is America." I cover my mouth too late. She heard and now she's enthralled in the subject.
"Really? His name is America? That's so cool! What's he like?"
"Um, he's… um," I said, stumbling over my words. "He's nice, I guess."
"Oh, that's not descriptive enough. Use better words and be honest!"
"He's… an idiot." Lavie is surprised by my answer but she doesn't interrupt me. I continue on without a care. "He's also conceited and has a hero-complex. He was always the bad apple in the family, ever since he first joined us." I sigh. "But he's gone now so no need to dwell on it."
"Wait, you mean he's…" I just look out the window at the nightly landscape. "I'm so sorry. That must be terrible."
"It's not your fault. It's mine. If I treated him better, maybe he wouldn't have done it." Suddenly, my spirits have fallen and they can't get up. That's right. It's all your fault. You took responsibility of him but, was that really the best decision? No, of course it was. He would've destroyed everyone if you let him be. But…
"SO, England!" Lavie said, loud enough to pierce my ears. She was wearing a big, cheerful smile. "Your family likes naming their kids after countries huh?"
I smiled. She really is too nice. "Not really. You see, when we're born, we already know our names."
"Really? That's interesting."
"I'm guessing by your reaction that the same thing happened with Rebnia."
"It did, but I always thought that he was just an orphan."
"Well, now you know the truth."
"So, can you tell me how it feels to be one of the youngest of all those siblings?"
"What is this, therapy?" I asked, jokingly.
The car stopped in front of The Maiden's Foy with a small squeak of tires. The place's neon lights were turned off and looked completely deserted. Before I could get out without Lavie asking another question, she asked another question. "You work here?"
"Yeah, I'm a waiter," I answered. At least I don't have to lie this time.
"So you're here to do important business huh? What kind of important business?"
My eyes fall on the car's clock. "Oh look, it's almost seven."
She looks at the digital clock in the car and her eyes grow with shock. "You're right! I'm going to be late!" She puts the car into top gear.
"Hey, take it easy! It's not like they're going to kill you!"
"I can't afford to be late! I'll come right after work to pick you up, I'll be glad to take you and your friend home."
"Stop making me sound like a kid," I say with a sigh.
"See ya later!" And just like that, the car disappeared down the road with the sound of screeching tires.
I entered the bar with the one key I had and opened the door. The darkness has swallowed everything in the room. I can hardly see a thing in front of me. But despite that, I move on. I'm only here to get into my uniform. There's no need to turn on the lights for something that'll take a few seconds. I close the door behind me and head over to the small bathroom in the back. I set my suitcase down and open the clips. My folded uniform and other such things my boss would ask of me to bring were inside. He never told me what he specifically wanted so I grabbed anything I had that would benefit him in case of something unexpected happening, including things that would help if a fight breaks out. You have to be careful and put into consideration every single realistic possibility when doing dangerous things like this.
After changing into my military uniform, I pulled my hat over my eyes just enough so that no one can recognize me and headed out onto the street. The city dazzled behind me as I made my way down the sidewalk. My shadow stretched out before me in silence.
OOO
A couple of blocks later, I came across an intersection. I turned the corner to find an entire expanse of land. It was all grass, trees, and scattered buildings or what used to be buildings. All of the said buildings were in ruins and looked as though they were taller but were cut down by something. At first, I thought I was in a memorial park but it didn't look like there were any normal buildings past all those trees. Is this where it's supposed to be? I wandered around the weird patch of nature until I found a beaten down building with a light shining from the remnants of a window. As I got closer, I could make out some dark figures near the door wearing similar military uniforms to mine but a little different. There's were ripped, patched, and worn down. And the colour was different as well. It was a dark beige. As I approached, the two men looked me over with a sneer and stepped aside, let me through without a word.
It's not much of a shack. More like a one story flat house. The floor was ripped of most of its tile and the ceiling looked like it was caving in on itself. The walls were made up of scarred brick and the room itself was fairly big. I kept walking until I reached a staircase that was dimly lit by cheap hanging lamps. Each step I took echoed off the brick walls and everything was covered in cobwebs and dust. This place would be a great place to tell scary stories. I'm getting a little scared myself not being able to see beyond the light's reach. But thanks to that, I feel a lot more awake now.
When I reached the bottom, everyone's eyes turned to me. They were all gathered at a long table, my boss and his other lackeys on one side and the rebels on the other. I could tell who was who because of the uniforms they wore. I took a seat at my boss' side and everyone went back to whatever conversations they were having.
"Thank you for reserving a seat for me, sir," I say to him.
"You're early." He responded in his gruff voice. "I told you to come at 2000, not 1950."
I fall back in my seat. Nothing can please this guy. I bet his kids are the most depressed kids in the world, if he has any that is. "Sorry, sir."
"Might as well brief you on who's who here. Campbell."
Campbell, the man sitting next to me, put his arms on the table and pointed his chin toward the man in the corner with terrifying amber eyes. He then looked off into the distance to avoid any eye contact. "The man with the eyes is Malta, their fourth top commander in Montana. He heads the rebel division in Malta, the city about an hour east of here. He's famous for killing a hundred men of our own in the War. I don't want to talk about how he did it but it'd be smart if you stayed on his good side, sir. The guy to the right of him who's drumming his fingers is Billings, their third top commander. He heads the rebel division in Billings which is a city about four hours south of here. He uses and encourages all those nasty and primitive punishments to exterminate people. He uses these on the so called 'spies' in Billings. Poor souls. The next one is a real sexy one." He eyed the curvy woman next to Billings with a sly smile. "Her name's Helena and she's their second top commander. She heads—"
I stop him. "Lemme guess, the city Helena, Montana?"
"Heh, nothing gets past you, sir. Yes, she heads the rebel division in Helena, a city that's about three hours south-west of here. She's an enchantress and beguiles people into doing her bidding. Easy to see how they could though. She is so fucking hot. This next guy is Havre."
"Havre?" I scanned the man next to her quickly. No doubt about it, that's Havre. Why the hell is he here? Then, as though he could sense my eyes, he turns and stares right at me. I quickly turn my head back to Campbell.
"Sir, you know the guy?"
"I'm acquainted with him. What's he doing here?"
"He's the best commander they've got here in Montana. As you're probably aware, he commands the rebel division right here in Havre. We really don't know what's so special about him to put him on top. The ones I mentioned so far are all infamous people who were in the War. As far as we know, he wasn't involved at all." He slides his hand through his brown crew cut. "There's also one more but we're not even sure if he's going to come at all."
"And who would that be?"
"The man they report to, the guy who pulls all the strings in this country-state. They call him Montana."
"No way," I say, sarcastically.
"I know. Their codename system for the higher-ups is pretty redundant but at least they won't confuse names, y'know? But because of their damn codename system, we don't know Havre's real name or Montana's. We know the others since we have them on file but those two are nameless, same with a couple of others in other country-states. Heck, I bet they don't even remember their names since they always use their codename."
Hearing the predicament suddenly made me think of the day when France was being ganged up on; how Havre eyed his subordinate angrily just as he was about to say something. "I think I know their top commander's real name."
He turned his gaze to me. "Really, sir? You do?"
"Yeah, back when someone was getting mugged up on by him. One of his helpers said what I think was a part of his name. It started with Dav."
"Why didn't you tell us earlier, sir?"
"Honestly, I kind of forgot."
"How can you forget something as important as that?!" He yell-whispered. Seeing his mistake, he squared his shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir, I acted in a way that was embarrassing and indecent."
I rolled my eyes. This again. "It's alright, you don't need to apologize."
"But sir, it says in the new manual, chapter seven, section nine, paragraph two to be precise, that—"
"That's an order. And I don't give a damn about that newly commissioned manual," I said. "Why is it so important to know their names? How does that benefit us in anyway?"
He sighed, leaning into the table. "I don't know but the he wants them." He darted his eyes over to the boss who was sitting straight and speaking to a nearby soldier. "Hey, do you think another war's gonna break out, sir?"
"Maybe. It all depends on this little chat we're gonna have," I say, crossing my arms.
"I really hope not. Back in the Third, I decided that I'd quit as soon as it was over but when it did end, they told me to accompany the Prime Minister here. I didn't have a choice in the matter and I also didn't have time to see my family. I'm not even sure if they're still alive."
I put a consoling hand on his hunching shoulder. "I'm sure they're fine. And when we finally sort this out, you'll be able to see them again."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I find that hard to believe coming from a guy who's trying so hard to hide his face."
"Sorry, Campbell, I'm doing some work around here and the last thing I need is being seen in this uniform."
"Nice, I wish I could be doing some action like you, sir. All I've been doing is shadowing the PM."
"Trust me, Campbell, you're better off doing that."
Then everyone quieted down as a new dark figure entered the room. He moved across the floor with confident steps and joined us at the table, sitting down in the seat across from my boss. The ceiling lamp above us swayed. Campbell smirked. "He actually came, huh?"
"Campbell." He turned to my boss who was speaking in whispers. "Take note."
He nodded and began muttering to himself. I could make out most of what he said. "Approximately 170.18 centimetres in height, short ginger blonde hair looking to be a military cut, distinguishable due to the hat, blue eyes and a lightly inflated nose, possibly of German descent, rectangular body type B, shoe size UK men's 9," he continued on like this for a while. Just muttering to himself with measurements and physical traits.
"Campbell, what are you doing?" I whispered.
"Taking note of him. That's kind of my job." He muttered a couple other things before continuing. "You see, I got a photographic memory. I acted as a walking archive when I wasn't fighting Japs over in Asia. The PM wanted me to come along to record these bastard's faces."
Wow, that's actually very strategic but what would we do with them other than put them on wanted posters? I glanced at my boss who was staring down Montana. Whatever the hell he's planning, I really don't like it.
Montana took a seat and crossed his hands on the table. "Welcome. I hope all of you got here safely."
Campbell muttered another observation. "Low, manly voice. No matches."
My boss answered back in all seriousness. "Safe enough. Can we get down to business?"
"I'm just trying to break the ice, Prime Minister. Loosen up a little." His voice sounded so smartass-like. Just hearing it made my blood boil. To add onto that, this is the guy who's been heading all the gruesome killings in Montana. He's right there. Out of nowhere, the girl who was crying into her dress yesterday came to mind. I fought to keep myself from standing up and strangling the bastard myself. "I feel like having a beer. You want some, Prime Minister?"
"No thanks, I don't drink."
"Of course you don't." He made eye contact with a rebel grunt stationed near the staircase. He saluted and made his way to a door I didn't see before in the corner and disappeared into the darkness. "Sorry about the conditions and all the security. Can't be too careful. So, what are you going to offer us?"
"I'm not going to offer you anything. All of this land belongs to us. I'm simply here to talk this out so that war doesn't break out."
Havre shoots out of his seat, pushing his chair back a few inches. "We're not negotiating our freedom with imperialistic pigs like you!"
"Havre, sit down," said a rebel behind him, pushing him back down into his seat. Havre's face was twisted with anger.
Montana responded as though Havre's little outburst never occurred. "I'm sorry, Prime Minister, but you don't get it." The rebel grunt came back with a yellow beer in hand, setting it down with a small clink. It was covered with drops of water and the cap was already taken off. Montana's gloved hand reached out to it. "I don't control the people. I only try to keep them in line and most of the time it doesn't work. Talking it out with me, a small part in this cause, isn't going to get you anywhere." He takes a long swig of beer and wipes his mouth.
"Then who can I talk to?" Asked my boss.
Montana chuckled. "Didn't you get the message from all those dead ambassadors? You can't talk to anyone."
My boss furrowed his brows. "Then why'd we set up this meeting then?"
"To warn you about our intentions," he said. "Our party is all about liberating our country from foreign rule and becoming an independent and ruling nation once again. My subordinates are driven by their own drives and do what they want. They might start a war, they might not. It all depends on them and looking at all the unrest, I'd say war is very probable. Everyone's basically on our side, whether they've joined our cause or not, and every one of your people are going to get caught in the middle of it."
My boss narrowed his eyes. "What are you implying, Montana?"
"I'm implying that if you piss them off, there will be blood."
We were the first to leave the beaten down building. We were clustered into a little flock like sheep and shepherded out by a couple escorts. My boss was in the middle of the flock, surrounded in the soldiers that were only there for protection. Campbell and I were in the front until we exited the dreary cut-down-to-size building. That was when the boss requested my presence. The moon was full and shined down on us like a spotlight as we made our way through the trees and brush.
"What is it, sir?" I ask.
"There's no negotiating with those nutcases. We have no choice but to take the land by force."
I hurriedly responded, trying to avert a disaster. "Sir, with all due respect, there are still many other options. Give it more time. Give me more time."
"I'm tired of waiting, England. Everyone is. Families are demanding revenge for the deaths of their loved ones who resided here. Pretty soon they'll be protesting in the streets."
"Let me talk to Montana a little, okay? I'll try to convince him to keep them under control until we can work something out."
"I couldn't even do it so what makes you think you can?" He scoffed.
"Because I'm a better negotiator than you are." You damn warmonger.
He gave me a spiteful glare. "Fine. Do what you want but it won't change anything. And keep your eyes hidden, would you?"
"I know, sir." So I said my goodbyes to my new friend, Campbell, and made my way back to the corroding building. The rebels were scattered around the premises, chatting amongst themselves. I entered the mass and searched their faces for Montana. They stared at me as I passed with hate-filled eyes. I ignored them and kept going. Then out of nowhere, I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. I froze.
"Hey there, you lost yer flock, little lamb?" said the voice, teasingly. A few chuckles soon followed. I turned to see Havre, his eyes studying all it can. "Hey, you're that guy who sat next ta that pig."
I looked down at the ground and didn't answer. "Y'know, you really remind me of someone." My heart began to race and sweat started to take form. Just leave already. I kept my mouth shut. Havre got a little closer, his hands in his pockets. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
"No," I say, imitating a new voice. It came out as John's, accent and all, for whatever reason. "Can you leave me alone?'
Havre let go of my shoulder and grunted with disapproval. "You're lucky dat I'm not in the mood to gang up on someone so helpless like you. Git outta here!"
I didn't say a word but instead turned the corner of the building. I leaned back against the wall and took panicked breaths. That was way too close. I can't believe he actually fell for that terrible imitation of John's voice. It didn't sound natural at all. I guess he's not that good at recognizing people. I should probably tell Campbell about that so he can add it to his little archive.
The sound of shifting grass caught my attention. When I looked over, I saw it was Montana walking out into a small grove of trees alone. What's he doing over there when all of his subordinates are here? Oh who cares, I found him, might as well talk to him. I thought yelling out his name would only make things awkward so I followed after him into the grove. I kept following him until he reached a clearing where the moonlight shined down so brightly upon that the grass looked more white than green. He stopped in the middle and I was about to come out from the trees but before I could, he took off his hat and long blonde hair rolled out from underneath it. Looks like Campbell was wrong about his haircut.
"Finally, I can get out of this damn uniform," he said but it didn't sound like him. It sounded like a woman.
Then, Montana turned around to show his/her profile in the moonlight and I hurriedly got behind a tree to stay out of sight and peeked from behind it. My mouth gaped and I had to hold onto the tree for support when I realized who it was. I thought back to what Campbell was saying about what the name of Montana could be. Now I know. It's Lavie Keeler.
Lavie's the leader of the Montana rebels.
