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Thaddeus Duke · (01-31-2021)

On Board Illuminatus Two || Flight Level & Path Unknown || 10:47 AM

I don’t know that “I have a different idea” is what they wanted to hear. To be honest, what they want isn’t my concern. One may sit and scoff at the notion that a living breathing Thaddeus sat and listened to the advice of a man that died five years ago, but be that as it may, it doesn’t negate the fact that he’s right. We fight, or we die. There is nothing in between.

”What’s the idea then?” my father asks as I stand up. In the cabinet lining the wall behind me lies a safe. Inside that safe is a small armory. With Frankie now secure in the safe room, it’s time to get down to business.

”Well, I was talking to grandfather,” I begin to explain as I spin the dial on the safe. With futility, I try to stop myself from saying what I just did. I’ve never told my dad about my… visions… of his dead father.

”My father,” he repeats with some uncertainty that maybe he didn’t hear me right.

”Yeah,” I admit as I turn the handle and roll out the safe drawer containing the weaponry. ”I’ve seen him a number of times since his death, dad. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes he’s able to shed new light on things, get me to see things in a different perspective that maybe I didn’t see before.”

”You’re right,” he states. ”It does sound crazy.”

”I knew about it,” Jim interjects. ”Whatever you want to call it, visions, hallucinations, or just deep thought manifesting as advice from Asmodeus. Whatever they are Sebastian, he’s been having them every now again since he died.”

Turning around and pulling my armored vest over my head, I notice my dad shake his head and roll his eyes.

”And what did your dear dead grandpappy advise you Thaddeus?”

Understanding his mockery, I don’t answer him immediately. Instead, I continue to dress for combat, pulling the top of my fatigues over my shoulders.

”You’re retaking the plane,” he assumes as he leans back in his chair on screen.

”If you do that Thaddeus,” Tritter interjects, knowing I’m annoyed at my dad right now. ”We’re not getting a location on the Ares Project… I know why you want to do it… I just think that puts us back at square one.”

”Lincoln, saying that puts us back at square one,” I begin as I pull out my camo pants from the drawer. ”Means to suggest we ever left square one in the first place. We haven’t, Tritter. We both know it.”

Looking over at Jim’s screen, I notice him smiling wide as if he knows exactly what I’m about to tell them.

”Y’all see Jim smiling?” I ask the lot of them. ”You got a Illuminatus banner in your office dad?”

”Of course I do,” he answers quickly.

”Those colors don’t surrender dad. I’m not about to give up Frankie’s life, my life, this plane without taking a god damn swing. If they’re gonna kill us, they’re gonna have to fuckin earn the right to do it.”

”How do you plan to do that?” Tritter asks with a forced smile.

”Well to begin with, I know the plane, they don’t,” I answer him as I hop around, trying to pull my pants on. ”All I need is time, Tritter.”

”Time for what?”

Nearly losing my balance as I button up, I notice we’ve started descending rapidly.

”Linc, where are we?” I ask as I widen my stance some.

”Tennessee,” he answers after I quick peek to his right. ”Why?”

”They’re taking us down,” comes my answer with a bit of nervous excitement evident in my voice. ”How far out are your boys dad?”

”They’ve been racing to intersect your trajectory, but they can’t keep up with a 747. Given your location and theirs, I’d say they’re about twenty minutes out when you land.”

”Lincoln, do I need to do anything on my end to let your hackers get on their game?”

”Nope,” he answers with a shake of his head. ”Once you land, we have the location... We can point one of our sats there... and they’ll do the rest. If there’s anything to find, they’ll get in.”

”I think we can hold them off for twenty minutes,” I say, thinking out loud. ”How will I stop them from just attacking the plane?”

”You’re letting them land, that’s the hard part. Once they’re on the ground, they’ll be thinking they got you,” he answers. ”What you need to do though is let them come to you, don’t go chasing the pilots into the cockpit. They’ll radio ahead and they’ll disable the plane.

“If you can manage it, separate the pilots and take them out one at a time. Then get to the cargo hold. If you position yourself on the catwalk you’ll have a better vantage point to anyone coming near the plane so wait until you’re up top to open the cargo hold. Start picking them off one by one, they’re not ready for an attack on them so they won’t be ready to disable the plane.

“Hold them off long enough for my boys to get there. They’ll provide covering fire and you get your ass back to the cockpit and get the hell out of there.”

”Alright,” I say as the reality begins to set in. ”I’m switching to my ear piece now so you guys lay out.”

”Thad?” my dad calls over my ear piece as I start handing out weapons and magazines to Frankie’s protection detail. ”Where’s your flight crew?”

”I haven’t been up front,” I answer him as I spy my dads Assassins Creed inspired hidden blade. ”I don’t know what went on up there,” I conclude as I secure the blade to my wrist. After securing two sidearms to my thighs its time to get moving. With my heart pounding out my chest and resolve made of steel, I quietly exit the Sit Room and head forward toward the front of the plane. Frankie’s detail remains behind me and as I reach the curtain to the passenger compartment I hesitate to move any further.

”To the cargo hold,” I instruct them. ”Grab my rifle, take it to the catwalk.”

As the protection detail departs my position, I take a deep breath before peeling back the curtain to take a peek.

”Christ,” I mutter to myself.

”What is it?” Dad asks.

”It’s a killing field up here,” I answer back. Looking around as quickly as I can and noticing no discernible movement, I advance through the curtain and start to weave my way over and around the bodies of a dozen of my crew toward the cockpit.

”Mate?” Jim calls in over the radio.

”Yeah?”

”I love you bro,” he says with a somber tone.

”Yeah,” I reply quietly. ”I love you too man.”

”Avenge them mate,” he says with a shaky voice while holding back emotion. ”But get your ass back here okay?”

”Yeah,” I reply back as peek out the window. We’re close to the ground now so I disappear into a darkened coat closet behind the cockpit.

Silently, I sit reflecting on the last year of my life. I’ve come so far compared to where I was and I don’t mean professionally. While I’ve done a great deal there too, that just isn’t what I care about at the moment. The only thing on my mind is Elizabeth, Frankie, and the twins coming in about five or six months. I wonder what it’ll do to Liz if I don’t make it out of this. I wonder what kind of life she’ll give my children in my absence. With me gone, would my dad make it a priority to make himself available to my kids? Would he even want to?

The plane jerks beneath me as it touches down and I feel so bad that I’m not with Frankie. He’s alone and scared in a fucking panic room and he’s scared to death of take offs and landings. Some time later the plane rolls to a stop and the engines wind down.

Stepping from the cockpit, two men. They stretch their arms and legs, unknowing that I now stand waiting for them to pass by my position. They smile and laugh with each other about how easy it all was. They make comments about the different smells wafting into the cockpit from the passenger compartment. I learned death a long time ago. Far sooner and certainly far younger than perhaps I should have. Nevertheless, I know it well. Death smells like shit.

”Location pinged Thad,” Tritter informs me across the radio.

”Alpha One inbound, sixteen minutes,” relays my father referring to his team from Veneras International en route to presumably Tennessee. My Liz is just one state over. What I wouldn’t give to be with her right now.

The hijackers get to their feet as the engines die out now almost completely. Passing by my position, they make grunts and groans as the stench of death grows closer. As the second of the hijackers pass by, I quietly step out behind them. Grabbing the one closest to me by the hair, I quickly drive the hidden blade into his throat. His eyes grow wide out of fear and realization as his life blood leaks from the wound, down the blade and all over my arm. If I said I didn’t enjoy it for a moment, call me a fucking liar. Hell yeah it’s satisfying.

Hearing his friend gurgle, he turns around quickly but I drop the now dying hijacker and draw my pistol too fast for the Brad Wallace hijacker to respond. Instead, he stares down the barrel of my pistol.

”Did you really think this was gonna be easy?” I ask him.

”You’re in the lions den now,” he states cockily. ”Even if you kill me, there’s no way you’re getting out of this alive.”

”Maybe not,” I agree with him. ”But I’ve been defying big odds since the day I was born. And if you and your brothers and sisters think that I’m goin’ down without taking a whole bunch of you with me, then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

”Enough with the chit chat Thad!” my dad yells at me through the radio. ”The longer you wait to open the cargo hold, the easier time they’re gonna have in thinking something is up. Just pull the fucking trigger!”

”Turn around,” I instruct of the apparent Brad Wallace. He listens with very little hesitation. ”Walk,” I order him, but he hesitates.

”What the fuck are you doing!?”

”WALK!” I order him again, this time with the barrel of my gun touching the back of his skull. This time he does as ordered. With his hands up, he makes his way through the sea of dead bodies. Outside the passenger compartment now and in the hallway, we proceed with a little more step. As we near the Sit Room I grab him by his collar. ”Right,” I say to him and he turns, entering the Sit Room.

”Hands on the table,” I order him and he does as instructed. Quickly patting him down, I pull his only weapon from him. Just a lonely pistol.

”Taking too long, Thad!”

Grabbing Brad by his arm I spin him around and with my pistol, I point toward the opened and emptied safe drawer. It’s rather deep and wide. Perfect size for a prisoner.

”You can’t be serious,” he pleads.

”Of course I’m serious.”

Hesitantly, he climbs inside the drawer. I nod in his direction, urging him to take a seat.

”If I don’t make it out Brad,” I begin a line of antagonism. ”Then you’ll slowly starve to death. And if I do… if you think that’s gonna have a happy ending then I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.

“You put my sons life in eminent danger and Brad, that will never go unpunished. That I can promise you,” I conclude before sliding the drawer shut and locking the safe.

”That was cold,” dad states. ”Kinda like it. Now get the fuck moving!”

Moving quickly, at almost a running pace, I exit the Sit Room and head down the hallway toward the stairs about three quarters of the way down the length of the plane. Reaching the stairs, I give ‘em the Navy slide down the steps into the cargo bay only to realize my fighting men are nowhere to be seen. Hearing a whistle from the catwalk, I turn with my gun pointed. All of them are on the catwalk to my surprise. Climbing the steps up to the catwalk, all five of them lie on the floor if it, each with sniper rifles pointed toward the ramp.

”All of us up here is not what I had in mind,” I tell Harrison, Frankie’s detail chief.

”Figured we can all surprise them with sniper fire until they wrap their head around what happened,” Harrison informs me as I hit the big red button on the wall and quickly move into position. ”Then we’ll fan out later.”

As the cargo ramp lowers toward the ground and my eyes adjust to the sunlight, I can see two guys headed for the plane. Dozens of others are further back.

”Alpha One inbound, nine minutes,” my dad updates me.

”Start on those fucks nears the building,” I order of them as I focus myself through the scope. ”Try not to target the same guys okay? Nine minutes and we’re out of here.”

Trying to survey through the scope, unfortunately there’s no sign of General McGovern. Had he been here, that would be my first shot.

”On my mark gentlemen, and happy hunting,” I say as I release the safety and work the bolt, loading a cartridge into the chamber. My men do the same. Focusing again…

”Three… two… one… MARK!” The six of us send a volley of sniper fire into the crowd gathering outside the building roughly the length of a football field away. Just as we squeezed our triggers, I’m certain I saw McGovern exit the building. His build is unmistakable.

”Fire at will!” I order and another volley of shots is sent toward the Ares Project. McGovern, he’s kind of tall and thick. Aging with white hair. In his younger days he was probably built like a tank. He’s still got a muscular build but its worn and weathered over by years and years of body abuse… not unlike Chris Page.

If only I’d waited a few more seconds. I know it was him. McGovern cowers back into the building as his men are dropping like flies. The two men that were approaching the plane are in full retreat and unarmed. Men scatter as we fire off another volley.

”Seven minutes,” dad says. Anticipation and anxiousness supremely evident in his voice.

Another volley. More death. It feels so… euphoric. They steal my plane and land it right in the middle of their base of operations, like a Trojan fucking Horse. Their plan was ballsy, I’ll give them that.

”McGovern’s here dad,” I tell him as we fire off another volley. More bodies drop. On their side, dozens of men are now coming back out of the building with weapons drawn and firing in our direction. ”Eyes open boys, here come the troops.”

With a football field between us, we have a little time before we need to scatter. Shot after shot after shot. More Ares Project bodies drop and I love every second of it.

”Five minutes,” comes the call from dad. ”You guys alright?”

”Spread it out!” I order my men, ignoring my dad’s question. Leaving the sniper rifles behind, they exit the catwalk down the stairs, grabbing their assault rifles that lay on the hood of the limo. I maintain my position up top and Harrison tosses me up an automatic.

The Ares Project soldiers come closer and closer, firing and crouching. Firing again and body rolling to one side or the other. Bullets come racing in striking the armored limo, striking the interior structure of the aircraft, striking the steel posts holding up the catwalk. My boys fire back and one of them is cut down.

”Four minutes Thad.”

The four remaining men I have, and me still hidden up on the catwalk fire back, cutting down several of theirs. Some of theirs duck for cover. It’s an open field and they’re doing their best. Returning fire, my guys duck behind different objects in the cargo hold. The best cover is the damn limo. Nothing is penetrating that son of bitch.

The good guys fire back again for a few seconds before dipping back into cover. Just a few were hit this time as return fire comes in quickly, striking anything and everything. A ricochet nearly clips my ear… damn ears always sticking out.

”Two minute warning,” dad informs me. ”Shots are getting quieter on our side.”

We fire back again but they’re getting close and another wave of Ares Project soldiers comes running out of the building toward the plane. They fire too. Two more of mine are cut down. Just three of us left that gotta hold them off for 120 more seconds. A few make it to either side of the cargo ramp. Two of theirs go down and one of mine.

Only Harrison and I remain. I debate in my head whether or not to abandon my position and head down to help him. If I fire right now, it gives away my position.

”Sixty seconds.”

”Fuck it,” I mutter to myself and roll to my right and get to my feet. Running toward the steps, more shots are fired. This time, from inside the belly of the plane. When I reach the bottom of the steps I turn to my left and see an Ares Project soldier standing over Harrison. Before I can act, he puts a bullet in Harrison’s skull.

”Thirty seconds.”

Out in the field I can hear their men screaming from a distance. “Incoming!” I hear them yell as they retreat toward their building. Inside the plane, I pull the trigger, sending a myriad of shots into Harrison’s killer. With the Ares Project in retreat and my fathers attack choppers firing rockets toward the building, it’s time to head back to the cockpit and get this mother fucker off the ground.

Turning to head upstairs…

CRACK!

Another soldier on the plane that I didn’t see cracks me in the forehead with the butt of his gun sending my earpiece flying. It floors me immediately and the effects of a now ancient concussion courses through my body. He stands over me with his gun pointed at me. I stare up at him through foggy, blurred eyes. He smiles at me and for a moment, I understand why people get so pissed off at my cockiness.

Because it fucking works.

Tossing his rifle, he retrieves his sidearm and pulls back the hammer.

POP!

I wince in searing pain as I feel around for the wound only to notice I hadn’t been hit. Above me, the soldier feels around his own self with trepidation as blood leaks from his chest. He falls to his knees and collapses on top of me, revealing ten year old Frankie standing behind him.

”Frankie!” I shout out as I force the soldiers now lifeless body off of me. ”How did you get out!?”

”You told me the code,” he says quietly as I take the pistol from him. ”In case you didn’t make it.”

Not having time to console him, I search around quickly for my earpiece as dad forces continue to send the Ares Project into retreat. Rocket after rocket is sent into the building with a ruthlessness that I kind of envy. Slapping the big red button to the cargo bay door, it starts to close as I grab Frankie by his hand and race to the cockpit. Seconds later, he hesitates at the door to the passenger compartment, not wanting to step over the bodies. Grabbing him quickly, I lift him up and force him to come with me to the cockpit. Beginning the sequence quickly, the engines wind up as Frankie straps himself in. As the engine winds, I don’t wait, I work the throttle and the plane lurches forward. Faster and faster as dad forces continue giving us covering fire. Seconds later, I pull back on the stick and Illuminatus Two is once again airborne and young Frankie is safe at last.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Ares Project: Hijacked Part 2 - RP #7
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