Eden Army by Pete Robertucci

Author:Pete Robertucci [Robertucci, Pete]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14 Eden

Covering the four or five miles, the man known as Airman John Smith managed to reach the forty-acre compound where he believed the air force drone had crash-landed. In the past, he’d never had the desire to visit Florida, it had a notorious reputation for snakes, mosquitoes, and alligators infesting nearly every body of water that littered its landscape. While he couldn't personally vouch for the reptiles, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the swarms of mosquitoes proved to be an undeniable challenge. Welts were starting to form around his neck, his wrists were swelling, and his eyes were turning into a puffy mess, giving him an almost alien appearance.

Tiny red dots covered the areas where his belt touched his stomach, and the exposed skin above his socks were similarly speckled. He couldn't pinpoint which insidious creature had targeted those specific spots, but the itching sensation dominated his mind. It became so consuming that he contemplated abandoning his mission altogether.

"This place is a cesspool. I'm counting the seconds until I'm back in D.C.," he mused, his thoughts drifting to civilized meals and the finest scotch a man could savor. "Once I'm through with these backwoods yokels," he contemplated, "my place in the new cabinet will be secured. I'll shape policy, molding the nation into a more globally amicable force. A nation loved by all.”

Johnathon Specter, also known as Airman Smith, held the position of chief security officer for Speaker of the House Padley. It was a role he had aspired to since his school days. His childhood dreams were intricately woven with a fascination for the secret service. While his friends engaged in games of cowboys and Indians, or cops and robbers, he orchestrated elaborate scenarios pitting the secret service against various domestic threat groups, from the Black Panthers to the Ku Klux Klan and even the realm of right-wing conspiracy enthusiasts.

Specter bent down, his fingers finding relief in scratching the inflamed skin within his boot's rim, though the act left his fingertips smeared with blood from incessant itching. One final mission, he silently vowed, one last task executed on behalf of the Speaker. As his mind lingered on her, he couldn't help but think, I'd like to see her old self out here, trudging through this shit. It was people like him, individuals willing to execute evil deeds in the name of democracy, who enabled her position. Yet, such thoughts held no weight now. She was absent, while he remained present. A few more hours in this cesspool and he would finish this one last task and get his just reward.

Specter was aware of the pond situated to the west, but the prospect of venturing towards the water—a nighttime breeding ground for insects—held little allure. Opting for an alternative route, he intentionally veered around the pond and the sprawling expanse it bordered. Winding dirt roads offered a degree of reprieve from the assault of airborne pests that resembled prehistoric pterosaurs. Along the northern fringe of the pond, he encountered an older-style house, likely built during the seventies.

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