"You want me to do what?" the voice on the other end protested skeptically.
JR growled on his own end. "You heard me. Set this task as your chief priority… or else your next paycheck may not find its way to you."
"But sir," the other argued, "such an action would be a breach of international security… An investigation would be sure to ensue, and someone would undoubtedly locate the source of the bomb."
For a few moments, the hum of static filled the line, until JR spoke again, this time through gritted teeth. "I don't care about international affairs. This is about revenge, for all those who have been lost in the war, for the honor of my family; I think it's time that Wonka is given a taste of my wrath. We managed to destroy one of his factories without raising any uproar…I haven't heard back from my brother, so no doubt Wonka is still there. He's already died to the world once...I'm sure that it will be no different in this case. Do as I say: nuke him."
There was a sigh from the other end, and the speaker replied reluctantly, "Very well, sir. The warhead will be prepped."
JR hung up, panting in anticipation, and grinned maliciously. "He thinks that he has ruined me…. He thinks that he has won… Well, HE HASN'T! YOU HAVE MET YOUR END, WONKA!" He laughed maniacally, which brought in his secretary. At the sound of the opening door, JR stopped in midlaugh and glanced in her direction. "Is everything all right, Mr. Chadworth?" the secretary asked, genuinely concerned.
JR coughed to cover his embarrassment, then smiled pleasantly. "Yes, everything is fine." She nodded and left, puzzlement showing in her eyes. He watched her leave, and grinned devilishly when she was gone. Oh yes, everything is fine indeed.
The chopper lift to the base had seemed to take no time at all; to JR's warped mind, time no longer seemed to hold any meaning. With the recent death of his brother Vincent hanging over his head, the last vestiges of his sanity had finally fallen away, only be replaced by manic desire. It no longer mattered that he was the last living Chadworth, or that his beloved corporation was falling to pieces. All that mattered now was his sole directive: to destroy Wonka and his assets at all costs.
The sun's noonday radiance filtered through the stratum of high, papery cirrus clouds; JR shielded his sight from the glare with an outstretched hand, the sunlight glinting off his dark glasses. He turned to the man beside him, a former assistant that had been chosen to replace the late Langford. "You called?"
The man answered slowly, the doubt in his voice clear. "I'm not so sure it would be wise to carry out the directive you requested, sir." Chadworth's brow raised in question. "Why not?"
"Well, for all we know, Wonka may not even be at the proposed location any longer. If he did in fact manage to eliminate Vincent and Langford, then it stands to reason that he would abandon his base while he had the chance."
JR's expression hardened. "You think I don't know that?" He growled. "Whether or not Wonka is there, his legacy must be eliminated…his factories must be destroyed."
"But…" "WHATEVER IT TAKES TO AVENGE MY BROTHERS' DEATHS!" JR calmed himself, straightening his glasses with one hand. He rubbed his chin pensively as he glanced skyward once more, noting the thin cloud cover. "Do you think the extreme weather down south will impede my plan?"
The other crossed his arms, pondering as he watched the waves lap against the distant shore. "Well, nothing short of a cataclysmic hailstorm would be enough to ground this baby," he said, proudly referring to the modified B-25 that rested twenty feet away on the aircraft carrier's runway. "But considering the reports we've received, it appears that we chose the worst time to attack. The storms that barrage Antarctica at this time of the year are highly unpredictable; they come and go without much warning and generate winds that could easily dwarf the vicious gales created by a category 5 hurricane, for which we have not yet tested this model against."
"Well, be sure you do; I don't want to leave anything to chance."
"Yes, sir." The supervisor walked toward the bridge in order to relay the command. JR watched in silence as he left. Now alone, he glanced at the vehicle that was to bring devastation to Wonka's factory; it was a large, sturdy aircraft, a reminiscent piece of the World Wars whose modern, streamlined shape and fresh coat of light-absorbent paint evidenced the modifications that had been made upon it for the specific purpose of this mission. The warhead itself would not be armed and placed in the clamp under the bomber's wing until after the aircraft carrier had made its passage to the seas bordering Antarctica, but JR had seen the fearsome weapon as it lay in storage within the bowels of the fortress.
He stood on the bridge, gazing out toward the sea as the massive ship progressed southward. He watched with mild curiosity as the flight crew hastened about below, clearing the flight deck in anticipation of the inclement weather to come. It was all a routine to him by now, really, despite the fact that he had only worked on this ship for the better part of a year. "Captain Luxord." A passing crewmember saluted him, and the captain dipped his head in reply. He quickly returned to his thoughts, allowing the sound of the ships engines to lull him. At first, it had seemed like a very fulfilling career, directing such a massive vessel across the seas toward imminent battle. But now, the rewards didn't appear as promising as they had a year before, when the ship had belonged to a true military. Now, in the service of Chadworth Industries, he had been directed to maneuver the ship to the southern end of the world. For what reason, he had no idea; all he knew was that it had nothing to do with him. He was just here to command.