Read Online Driver, T. C. by The Great Ark - Free Book Online

this old counterfeiting scheme collapsing around them by its own weight. Surprise! God's way works! Man's way leads to destruction! Who could have known? Billy, you've got to stand for something or you're gonna fall for anything!”
    Billy Cash, tears in his eyes started to leave. “We can't talk about the Bible, Cornelius. Schools are against the Bible. People would laugh at us; ridicule us! Professors hate it. We would likely flunk our courses if we stood up for God.”
    “Yes, I know, Billy” I said, shaking my head. “There is no hope for America to come back. We have lost her.”
    Could nothing be done? Giant pictures of Osoma stood everywhere. The Bible, The Constitution and the Ten Commandments were all gone.
    The next three days of flying patrol was routine. Our second 'lost' plane was from extremely heavy, small arms fire from a so called 'private ship'. The ship looked like an old U. S. Navy frigate. Ships sold for cheap when the American Navy closed up, most for less than scrap price. The rapid fall of American power and influence was frightening. What or who would replace America? The Great Ark was part of this power vacuum for sure. What would the world come to? Sink down to?
    Sarah and I were sitting at my table early one evening waiting for the music to start at the Gospel Cafe. She had arrived first and waved me over as I walked by on deck. Being this early was not normal. It was very strange and out of character for her. Sarah was eating the Cafe's famous macaroni shrimp salad. I ordered pinto beans and cornbread with onions. Plus, I ate half of hers, which was our custom. A tall, lanky, Yankee, black Gospel Singer    named Mike Russell (from Brooklyn) was sitting in with the house band and packing in an extra large, overflow capacity crowd at the Cafe! Mike was likable, talented and very popular on ship. He had a very different music style.
    To my surprise, Captain Joe Coe joined his daughter, Sarah, and I at our table dressed in casual street clothes. Captain Coe ordered wine and fruit salad. Not from the Gospel Cafe menu, but rather his personal cook and private stock. Stage music was dialed back to two/thirds its usual volume by the wave of Joe Coe's hand. His 'man Friday' was seated with a few other fellows across the room. Friday was a balding, thin, black man, Joe's chief of staff, and, yes, Friday was his real name.
    Captain Coe was blunt and to the point, as always. “I'm looking for some volunteers, Cornelius, for a landing party to India. It leaves in three days, one more duty cycle. The ship's next port of call will be the Australian International Spaceport supply harbor. We will train two semesters of college freshmen, just like we did in Brazil. I'd like to keep you as a flight instructor, Cornelius, but I need four people in India. There's a big air show coming up. Stunt flying like you did back in old days. Details will be given to you by Goldwater. Glancing to the table with Friday sitting across the Cafe, I then quickly recognized Paul Goldwater, my ex brother-in-law.   This was a 'small world' moment of sucking disappointment. He was a VPI professor who married the older sister of my wife. Paul's a small, smart, girly man with tiny hands and a selfish, only child nature. He did, to his credit, have a good sense of humor.
    I mentioned not my knowing of Goldwater, because I could tell Sarah was going on this assignment also and I didn't want that little squirrel Paul knocking me off the list. Knock me off he would do, as soon as he knew about me. This family feud goes way back. Just to make sure Paul didn't 'find me out', I skipped all the briefings that he called. The next three days were spent on an intense air raid bombing campaign.   Multiple sorties per shift, as if to use up our bullets before Gumbo Station time drew to a close. Twelve of our predator drones had already left the Ark, I presumed to another carrier replacing us. This increased the almost frantic pace of our flight