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Thaddeus Duke · (08-16-2021)

Morning After the Ares Project Attacked the Compound

The Fallen Compound || Old Saybrook, Connecticut || 9:12 AM

Standing in the driveway surveying the damage, I’m at a loss for words. The Compound has collapsed upon itself and despite the lack of lives lost on our part, what it represents is the moral center of our universe. The North Star of the Illuminatus, in a manner of speaking. It will no doubt be a devastating blow to overall morale. That’s something I’ll have to navigate as we move forward. I’m no stranger to boosting morale among my troops but this time, even I’m a bit down about it all. This is where the Illuminatus was started by my… father? I guess... back in the early 70’s. I’m just not sure yet how to lift everyone back to their feet to fight the enemy.

Since right after the house fell, I’ve been fielding calls left and right. From Vinnie Lane and my uncle… brother?... Theo to Ian Dream & Tony Savage. Adi Gold most assuredly, to just about everyone I know from the XWF and even the OCW… None of them were Dolly Waters. None of them were Corey Smith. All of those that did, calling to check in with me and to make sure me and everyone else was safe. News travels quickly and when the United States military comes to your aid, its huge news and travels at warp speed. To that end, I haven’t even really had time to think about what’s next.

Still in the driveway, I take a trip around my smashed Audi.

”Thad?” Jim says as he approaches my side. I look over at him in acknowledgment. ”Agent Small will be here in a couple minutes.”

”Really?” I ask of him with surprise. He nods his confirmation. ”What for?”

”He said he’s got an offer for you,” Jim replies and behind us, a honk of a car horn interrupts. The CIA’s Richard Small has arrived. Meeting him at the rear door of his car, I shake his hand warmly.

”Well, it’s nice to see you lived,” Dick says facetiously as he turns his head toward the destruction. ”Shiiit,” he says, surveying the damage. ”How the hell did you make it out?”

”By the grace of Thad,” I joke, holding my arms out in a messiah-like pose causing him to laugh a bit.

”My King,” Brandon startles me from behind. I turn to see him kneeling on the ground and offering up a hot Starbucks something or other. My god I hope it’s a mocha.

”Brandon!” I yell out excitedly. ”What the fuck are you doing here!?”

”Heard you had a rough night,” he says as I take the cup from him and he stands. ”Figured I’d deliver some deliciousness and make you feel better.”

”Just you being here makes a world of difference,” I say before taking a sip. ”Fuck yeah! Mocha!”

”Girrrl, I know remember what you like,” he says with a flutter of his eyes.

”Oh, you two know each other?” Agent Small interrupts. His question causes me a great deal of confusion. ”You and Brandon?” he says, expanding on his vague question.

”Wait you came with him?” I ask of Brandon and he just smiles.

”Brandon’s my son,” Dick drops another bomb on me, causing me to choke on my Mocha.

Turning toward Brandon. ”Well this just got more interesting, didn’t it?” Brandon only chuckles and nods in agreement.

”How do you two know each other?” he asks, directing his question to either of us. Neither of us answer him. ”Brandon is this who you were gushing about then crying about to your mom the last couple weeks?”

Brandon only nods. Dick laughs for a moment. ”Your mom told me his name was Lee.”

”You told your mom my name was Lee?”

”Well, I know you like your anonymity,” Brandon says in his own defense. ”I figured we’d just tell them what was what if you ever met them and well… now you met one of them.”

”Awww,” I say before pulling him into a hug.

”I’ll be a son of a bitch,” he says with a laugh. ”How did you guys meet?”

”It was a gay thing,” I answer facetiously.

”Yeah I’d have never figured that out on my own,” he jokes sarcastically as I take another sip of my mocha.

”Hey dad! Wanna see where we first had sex?” he asks of his dad and again, I choke on my mocha.

”No, I really don’t,” Dick says as Brandon points down to the hood of my smashed car.

”Well it was right there under this wall,” Brandon tells him anyway, again pointing to the hood.

Dick backhands my shoulder. ”How dare you violate the innocence of my baby boy!?”

”I mean...”

”Relax Thad, he’s just joking.”

”Now that all of us are uncomfortable...”

”I’m fine, you?” Brandon asks in my direction.

”Yeah, I’m good. Making old people uncomfortable is, really one of my favorite pastimes.”

”Old!?” he shouts out before taking a seat on the steps that used to lead to my front door.

”You okay? You need a Tums? Maybe a nice tall glass of Metamucil?”

Brandon laughs hysterically as Dick gets back to his feet. ”Seriously Thaddeus,” he begins as he steps real close to me and grabs me gently by my arm. ”Brandon is a great kid and I like you. It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”

”Things work out the way they’re supposed to,” I reply to his concerns. ”Richard, for real. Brandon helped me through a difficult time and I’m forever grateful. Things didn’t work out, but he’s still an awesome guy and I’m proud to be his friend.”

”Good,” he says with a slight smile. ”I like you and I’d hate for that to change.”

”Awww dad!” Brandon says as he charges his father for a hug.

”Stop!” Dick says, holding his hands up to counter Brandon’s hug attempt. ”I might like him even more than I like you so you better be damn good to our friend Thaddeus!”

”Snap!”

”Dad that’s really hurtful,” Brandon says, feigning tears. ”After I even bought you some sweet socks for Fathers’ Day.”

”Yes and they were lovely,” Dick says as he pulls his son into a quick hug.

”Aww that’s sweet,” I say before a sip of my mocha. ”My dad doesn’t even hug me and I just went through a really traumatic night.”

”C’mere son,” Richard says as he holds his arms out for a hug. Taking a step forward, Brandon comes zooming between us and hops into my arms causing me to laugh. Cradled in my arms, he wraps his right hand around my neck.

”This one’s mine,” Brandon says to his father. ”Get your own damn boy toy.”

”Actually I’m Adi’s boy toy,” I correct him, sort of killing his buzz. He jumps down.

”You two are adorable,” Richard says as he hangs his arms back at his sides. ”Stop it.”

Excusing myself from Brandon’s presence for a moment to speak one on one with Agent Small. Despite the shocking turn of events that I was screwing his son, there is actual business that needs tending to. Alone with Richard, we make our way toward the bomber plane wreckage from a night ago.

”So what brings you by?” I ask of him as we walk. ”Jim told me you had some offer for me.”

”The Ares Project is a lot more heavily armored than any of us thought,” Dick begins. ”Last night, the President authorized military intervention on your behalf.”

”Yeah and please extend my gratitude to him,” I reply sincerely. ”Without it, I don’t know that I’m standing here right now.”

”Be that as it may, your back appears to be against the wall again. You have no navy to speak of after you destroyed most of it in your civil war a number of years back,” he prefaces. ”That being said, the President has authorized the lease of some of our soon to be decommissioned vessels for the nominal fee of one dollar per year.”

His news floors me, but in a good way.

”There is one small caveat though,” he says with a pause. ”Once you have secured the complete annihilation of the Ares Project and General McGovern is behind bars, or preferably dead, every warship on loan to you needs to be scuttled and sunk.

“That’s non-negotiable.”

”Consider it done,” I say with a smile and an extended hand.

”You’ll need to make sure that any indication that they’re American warships is removed,” he says with a shake of my hand.

”Thanks Dick,” I reply with sincerity as we start to make our way back toward the pile of block that used to be my house.

”It was my final act as point man for the United States Thad,” he says with a somber tone. It catches me off guard. They finally send me someone I feel I can trust and he’s leaving so soon.

”You’re leaving the CIA?” I ask of him and he nods.

”That is of course, if the job offer is still on the table.”

Stopping in our tracks, with everything that’s gone on I’d totally forgot that I even offered him a job.

”Yes of course it is,” I say excitedly. I mean, it’d be pretty hard to rescind that offer now that he know I was banging his son.

”Where is your current Chief of Staff?” he asks and I point up toward the driveway where Jim is conversing with Brandon.

”It’s kind of a bittersweet moment to be honest, Dick,” I tell him as a tear falls. ”Jim has been my best friend for seven years and I really don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

”Then why are you firing him?” he asks.

”I’m not firing him,” I say as we continue to slowly stroll our way back to the driveway. Dick looks at me confused. ”I’m replacing him because he’s dying. He doesn’t know I know that yet and that’s the way it stays.”

”Understood boss,” he says with a pause before changing the topic of conversation. ”So you and Brandon huh?”

I can feel myself grin from ear to ear at the mere mention of his name.

”You won’t see any interference from me,” he pauses. ”I mention his name and you beam like a twelve year old girl at a Justin Beiber concert.”

”Can’t help it,” I say glowingly. ”We had fun and I adore him. Things didn’t work out because I got with Adi, but he’s really important to me.”

He nods his understanding. ”How much danger is he in?”

Trying to take the question seriously, I just point toward where my house used to be. ”Significant.”

”And he’s aware of the danger he’s in?”

”As aware as he can be, without compromising classified intelligence,” I answer truthfully. He falls quiet for a moment as we walk. ”I can’t promise nothing will ever happen Dick. But I’d protect him with my life.”

He stops and looks up at me. My mind immediately redirects to something else entirely. Something I’ve been forgetting for the last several hours.

”Jim!” I call out as I run toward he and Brandon. ”Where’s Mufasa?”

He looks at me dumbfounded.

”I-I-I don’t know mate,” he stutters, noticing the worry in my demeanor.

”MUFASA!” I call out as I blow by Brandon and the rest, making my way around the destroyed building.

”Who’s Mufasa?” I can hear Dick ask Brandon.

”His lion,” he answers before rushing to catch up and help me search.

The four of us search all over the property. In the woods and the weeds. Out on the beach and near the destroyed airfield. Calling and calling for him but to no avail. As we search, Jim sends out a text to some of the others and they too search for my missing lion.

Twenty minutes in, I receive a text. Mufasa was found. Together, we rush back toward the broken down Compound. As we near the nearly unscathed throne room, one of my men points toward it. With a creak and a moan I pull open the outside doors and walk in. Near the entrance from the Compound Proper, still alive but badly injured, Mufasa lies on the floor with a bits of rubble and wood pinning him to the floor.

”Ah fuck!” I cry out as I slide to the floor beside him. ”You left with Frankie boy! Why’d you come back in here!?” I ask of him as I gently cradle his head in my lap. A couple feet away, I notice Frankie’s ‘Momma Bear’, the stuffed animal made from his mothers clothes and I can only deduce that he went to get it and on his way out of the building, the wall came down on top of him.

Cradling his head and stroking his mane, he lets out a whimper. ”Can you get up?” I ask the lion as I gently climb out from under his head. In protest, he belts out a bit of a roar. ”Get my dads truck,” I tell Jim and he rushes off as I start removing the rubble from Mufasa. Brandon and his father help me.

Like his owner, defiant in the face death and certain defeat, Mufasa rises from the floor as Jim backs the truck inside the throne room. As the lion gets himself upright, he belts out another roar, this time angry. In noticeable pain, Mufasa tries to step forward but stops, lifting his left rear paw off the floor.

”It’s broken I think,” I assume aloud as the truck comes to a stop in front of us. ”Guys give me a hand,” I plead as the three of us help the near 500 pound injured lion into the bed of the old pickup.

Once the truck was away, I was overcome with immense anger and I walked away from everyone just to be with my thoughts. A couple miles up the coast is the dock where my yacht ‘TRANQUILITY’ is anchored. I just sit on the edge looking out across the water reflecting on the events of the last several hours and how the fuck I’m supposed to get my house in order now that I have no central command center… or a house, for that matter. Whatever else the Compound was, it was the base of operations of the Illuminatus for decades.

Sitting there by myself for a good half hour, I hear footsteps walking up the dock and turn my head to look. Brandon. He quietly approaches and sits beside me, hugging my arm and leaning his head on my shoulder.

God, I really like him.

In a different time...

”Thanks,” I tell him as our feet dangle off the edge.

”For what?”

”Just being here for me,” I answer him. ”You’re not running your mouth about what I should and shouldn’t do. You’re not trying to overwhelm my clouded mind. Brandon, you’re just here for me to lean on and I don’t know how to tell you what that means to me.

“Sometimes, I just need to be able to clear my head without constantly trying to determine what’s next.”

”That’s why I exist,” he says with a smile. ”To comfort and support you while you clear your head while not interfering with your duties.”

”Yeah, that’s not at all why I’m here,” Dick says from several feet away. We both turn in his direction. ”You were a sitting duck out here on the coast, Thad. So, we’ll clean this mess up and I have a construction crew en route to your place in New York...”

”Wait, no not...”

”It’s the safest base of operations,” Dick interrupts. ”The Ares Project has guts, but no balls. They have the guts to declare war on the Illuminatus but they don’t have the balls to attack a major metropolitan city like New York.

“My first official act as your new Chief of Staff, Thaddeus, is to move your operations into the penthouse complete with a secure situation room.”

”Don’t you have to give notice with the spooks at the CIA?”

”Yeah, but I coordinated this with Jim,” he admits. ”I’m not gonna sit here...” he begins as he takes a seat on my other side. ”...and say that Jim as your C.O.S. was a good call on your part.”

”He’s my best friend,” I remind Dick. ”He was the only person I trusted enough to do it.”

”Keep him on as an advisor, but a Chief of Staff he is not,” he hammers. ”If he was, Lincoln Tritter would’ve been fired the first time your house was attacked.”

”He doesn’t do the firing, I do,” I inform him.

”Well not anymore,” he insists.

”Excuse me?”

”You’re too personal,” he begins to explain. ”You’re in the foxhole with these people and they’re more like brothers and sisters to you rather than trusted advisors and that stops here.

“I’m not condemning you,” he insists. ”All I’m saying is that you need accountability and you love these people to the point where true accountability doesn’t exist because it can’t. The emotional attachment you have for them negates your ability to make the tougher personnel decisions.

“As far as I can tell, I’m the first outsider you’ve ever brought into your employ.”

”You are,” I confirm his suspicions.

”And that’s why we’re gonna turn the tide and win this fucking war,” he informs me as he stands up, pats me on the shoulder, then walks off.

”I like your dad,” I say to Brandon.

”Yeah so do I,” he says with a quiet smile.

”I’m sorry, you know?” I say to him and he removes his head from my shoulder. ”You’re incredible. You’re kind and sweet, funny. I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted.”

”Or the way you wanted,” he interjects.

I’ll admit, in the early days of our ‘friendship’ I definitely saw this going somewhere. Things though, take their course. Adi Gold entered the picture and when she did, my rendezvous’s with Brandon came to an end. Adi is important to me. Her heart matters, her feelings matter. I made the mistake once of cheating on someone I truly loved and I’m not about to let that happen again.

”It’s okay Thad,” he tries to reassure me. ”I like you… a lot... and that hasn’t changed. But I get it.”

”Thad!” Jim calls out as he makes his way up the dock. ”Mufasa is en route to his doctor.”

”Good,” I reply as I stand up. Looking out over the Sound, I turn my attention to what’s next. ”Jim, arrange a meeting with General McGovern,” I instruct him, referring to the Ares Projects commander.

”What for?”

”To let him know I’m taking the gloves off,” I say turning my head to him. ”I’m done getting backed into a corner. I have the American President in my corner and as long as we have that, we have cart blanch to destroy them wherever they are.

“Charter a boat, dock in New York Harbor. Offer Brad Wallace in exchange.”

Word salad.

I said it previously and I’ll be damned if he didn’t live down to my expectations. It’s Reggie Estrada though so really, what did any of us expect? While I didn’t expect him to say anything that made sense, I did expect him to know something about me other than who my father is and that I’m good at what I do.

Coming unprepared is a bad move in this business. Acting like you know something while simultaneously demonstrating you don’t know shit… is… well… kind of head scratching and so plainly obvious.

Mistake number one: intimating that Dolly and I are anything but friends. Firstly, while there was a hint of something more awhile back, Dolly and I are friends only. Secondly, since I said mean things to Corey she’s been giving me the cold shoulder.

Mistake number two: insinuating a friendship between Alias and I. We have a professional respect for one another as competitors. That’s where our ‘relationship’ begins and dies. It’s well documented by now but I don’t expect you to pay attention to anything outside your bubble since clearly you can’t be bothered to know anything about anyone that isn’t the Thugs.

Mistake number three: stating that I think I’m better than average. Not only am I better than average, I prove it anytime I step in that ring. Whether it’s a straight up wrestling match or no holds barred, Reggie, I back up every claim I make about being the best in that ring. Technical wrestling, flying high, using weapons… none of it matters to me. I’m pretty damn fantastic no matter the match type.

So no, I don’t think I’m better than average because I’m the Hart champion. I’m the Hart champion because excellence runs through my veins.

Deep forever feud with Mark Flynn? Reggie… fuck man… the guy just made his return at War Games. How is that a forever feud?

You’re in an abyss of epic proportions Reggie. I am soundly better than you in every conceivable way and the more you show us, the more evident that becomes. I dug you a hole and you just jumped right in, didn’t you? You talk about your affinity for fighting against the odds while simultaneously moping, beating around the bush and admitting through hinting endlessly how much better I am than you.

In fact, I didn’t even dig you a hole. I brought the shovel and welcomed you to the Thaddeus Duke Show, then watched as you dug your own hole and jumped in.

…

…

…

WHAT.

THE.

ACTUAL.

FUCK.

IS.

YOUR.

GAME PLAN!?

You want to compare lives? You want to mention that I hate my father and I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth?

Those are true to a certain extent, I’ll give you that much but only that much.

I’ve been at war, literally, for seven fucking years. Since before I even started wrestling. I’ve been shot, shot at, and shot down. I’ve had planes I’m in fall from the fucking sky. I’ve held my brothers and sisters as they breathe their last breaths all the while holding their insides, inside. People die because I continue to live.

You can sit there and think I’m boasting or enjoy that aspect of my life. I don’t. I’ve sent men and women to their deaths. When I strap up and put on my uniform… people fucking die. That’s a burden that I wish on no one.

Your daughter shows contempt for you because you’re a deadbeat piece of shit father.

We are not the same.

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