Somewhere in West Virginia (History Lesson 2/ Part 5)

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They sit on a rock at an overlook watching the sun rise.

"West Virginia might be the most beautiful state in your country," says Jack Taylor to Carli Cavanaugh.

"I'm not sure we're in West Virginia," says Carli.

"We passed a sign, last night. Blue Ridge Mountains."

"Well, you know what John Denver says - Almost Heaven."

"Indeed," agrees Jack, and then, "Who?"

Carli sings a few lines from the song. They watch in silence as red and yellows and pinks steal the night for day.

"Red sky in morning," notes Jack.

"Sailors take warning," adds Carli. "Does that mean rain?"

Jack shrugs. "Rain would be welcome. Might cool the day down. Feels like it is going to be a hot one."

"Uh, riding in the rain, not fun at all." Carli glances at the motorcycle. "But, I guess we need to head back?"

Jack ponders. He and Carli are exhausted. They need to rest. A weary soldier is a liability. "I think we could stay another day, darling. Rest. Let things settle down. Then, head back to the farm."

Carli nods, "Hope Eliot and Torin made it back."

"I'm sure they did, my love. Torin has always had a bit of luck on his side." Jack does not hesitate with this bit of untruth. He knows Carli worries. He wants her to feel safe. "Hungry?" he asks.

"Starved."

"Well, we have a few supplies. We can head down the path a bit. Make us a tent out of the tarp. I bet there's a stream nearby. I'll go get some water. We can boil it, heat up the soup. Sit out the storm under the tarp, if it rains."

"Sounds like paradise," says Carli.

Jack walks towards the path. "Want to come, my lovely?"

"I think I'll sit right here and enjoy the view." Carli hasn't been this content in many months. This is almost Heaven. Peaceful. Paradise.


Hiding and eavesdropping in the bushes is Reuben "Ruby" Barbeau. He spies on Jack and Carli. He hasn't lost the sneak up skills he learned in Vietnam. He knew he heard a Harley the night before, and it was not one of theirs. He told his gang, but they were too drunk on homemade peach moonshine to care. Good thing he snuck down from their temporary camp to check it out.

He hears it with his own ears. Unmistakable. He can't make out all the words, but he knows a British accent when he hears it. He lived with a guy from England once, they were cellmates. That wanker. He smiles to himself. Wanker, a good word to call someone, but he had to drop it when he joined the gang many years ago because they teased him unmercifully. They called him a pussy, and Ruby is not a pussy.

Ruby watches as the man leaves the girl and goes down the hill on what looks like from here is a trail. She's a pretty little thing, he thinks. Is she a princess? Looks like one, but she don't got an accent like he does. He knows the prince's reputation, he's a ladies man. Well, he sure has a beautiful lady with him. Ruby can't wait to tell the gang. They had not seen a lady in weeks.

Ruby backs up slowly and steps on a branch. He freezes. The beautiful girl turns quickly to look. No way she can see him, but he feels her eyes on him. He notices her tense up, he sees her reach for a weapon in her boot. Ruby knows the look of an enemy that can kill you faster than you can say - stop, don't. That kind of killer is dangerous because they are afraid. They won't hesitate or ask questions.

Ruby remains still for another five minutes after the girl turns back around. When he gets out of earshot, he runs the rest of the way.


Ruby is out of breath and sweating like a pig at a dance party when he runs through the middle of the camp. He picks up a pot off the camp stove and bangs it loudly with a wooden spoon. "Wake up you sons of bitches! I found him. I found the prince!"


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