Read Online Exodus 2022 by Kenneth G. Bennett - Free Book Online
Authors: Kenneth G. Bennett
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and pompous. Like your writing.”
“Hell of a thing for you to call anyone pompous, Beck.”
Ellis’s face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. But he did not look afraid, and stood straight and tall. His demeanor in person did not match the weak, intimidated man Beck had perceived on the video feed, and this fact irritated Beck greatly.
“If you think my stories have damaged your…empire,” said Ellis, “wait until this gets out.”
Beck laughed. “What makes you think anything’s going to get out, Mr. Ellis?”
Concern flickered in Ellis’s eyes, but he made no reply.
“Look around you.” Beck gestured at the sea and mountains. “This is Southeast Alaska. Admiralty Island, Icy Straits. Last anyone heard, you were in Kabul, Afghanistan. Afghanistan! Eight thousand miles from here. Your colleagues, your family—everyone believes you’ve been captured by the Taliban. No one, Mr. Ellis—no one outside of this ship—has the slightest inkling that you’re here. Safe and sound, in the good ol’ U.S. of A.”
Ellis stared at Beck but didn’t respond for a long time. Gulls whirled and cried overhead. The breeze picked up, whistling across the deck. “Fits,” Ellis said at last. “It fits.”
Beck waited.
“Spoiled rich kid. Unlimited resources. Unlimited ego. Knowing you, Beck, this whole endeavor will be paid for with tax dollars.”
Sheldon Beck’s smile vanished and a vein began pulsing in his neck.
Ellis kept going. “So what’s the game here, Beck? You have your thugs capture me in Kabul in the middle of the night, bring me all the way here—for what? So you can kill me?”
“You attacked me,” said Beck, pacing now. “Out of the blue, with no warning … planting your stories like roadside bombs. You attacked me. ”
“I told the truth,” Ellis cried, over the wind. “American public has a right to know about Erebus, don’t you think? I mean, they’re paying for your army—whether they want to or not. Don’t you think they have a right to know what’s going on? Doesn’t that fit with your conservative principles?”
“Your stories are lies.”
“What’s a lie?” Ellis asked. “That Erebus has made billions off defense contracts? That your private, for-profit soldiers in Afghanistan outnumber the real military? That your troops routinely ignore US law? That Erebus operatives torture and kill when it suits them? Show me where I lied.”
Beck’s muscles contracted like heavy steel cables. His jaw quivered. “I love this country,” he said softly. “I’m trying to save it. You and the rest of the Left are a…disease. Taking America down.”
Ellis laughed. “Who’s that speech for?” He glanced at Collins and the other fighters positioned around the deck. “These guys? I don’t think they’re buyin’ it, man.”
Beck stepped forward and clubbed Ellis across the face with the back of his hand. The reporter crashed to the deck, hands still bound, blood spraying in a wide arc as he fell. He discharged a strangled, raspy cough and said in a thick voice, “Another murder then. In cold blood. Only proves my point.”
“Stand him up,” Beck commanded, and Collins jerked the prisoner to his feet.
“Unbind him.”
Collins removed the cuffs and Ellis massaged his wrists. Shook his hands out. Blood streamed from his nostrils, cascaded down his shirt and pooled on the polished teak deck, but he made no attempt to stanch the flow.
Beck moved closer, eyes locked on Ellis. “We’re going to fight, you and I,” he said. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, revealing heavy, thick muscles. “You attacked me—and my company—from afar. Now you can confront me face-to-face. Man-to-man.”
“I’m not playing this game,” said Ellis.
Beck glanced at one of the ex-SEALS waiting near the elevator: a compact bull of a man named Wilden. “Give him a weapon.” Wilden turned and fished a fiberglass case from a compartment in the wall.
“I’m not a fighting
“Hell of a thing for you to call anyone pompous, Beck.”
Ellis’s face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. But he did not look afraid, and stood straight and tall. His demeanor in person did not match the weak, intimidated man Beck had perceived on the video feed, and this fact irritated Beck greatly.
“If you think my stories have damaged your…empire,” said Ellis, “wait until this gets out.”
Beck laughed. “What makes you think anything’s going to get out, Mr. Ellis?”
Concern flickered in Ellis’s eyes, but he made no reply.
“Look around you.” Beck gestured at the sea and mountains. “This is Southeast Alaska. Admiralty Island, Icy Straits. Last anyone heard, you were in Kabul, Afghanistan. Afghanistan! Eight thousand miles from here. Your colleagues, your family—everyone believes you’ve been captured by the Taliban. No one, Mr. Ellis—no one outside of this ship—has the slightest inkling that you’re here. Safe and sound, in the good ol’ U.S. of A.”
Ellis stared at Beck but didn’t respond for a long time. Gulls whirled and cried overhead. The breeze picked up, whistling across the deck. “Fits,” Ellis said at last. “It fits.”
Beck waited.
“Spoiled rich kid. Unlimited resources. Unlimited ego. Knowing you, Beck, this whole endeavor will be paid for with tax dollars.”
Sheldon Beck’s smile vanished and a vein began pulsing in his neck.
Ellis kept going. “So what’s the game here, Beck? You have your thugs capture me in Kabul in the middle of the night, bring me all the way here—for what? So you can kill me?”
“You attacked me,” said Beck, pacing now. “Out of the blue, with no warning … planting your stories like roadside bombs. You attacked me. ”
“I told the truth,” Ellis cried, over the wind. “American public has a right to know about Erebus, don’t you think? I mean, they’re paying for your army—whether they want to or not. Don’t you think they have a right to know what’s going on? Doesn’t that fit with your conservative principles?”
“Your stories are lies.”
“What’s a lie?” Ellis asked. “That Erebus has made billions off defense contracts? That your private, for-profit soldiers in Afghanistan outnumber the real military? That your troops routinely ignore US law? That Erebus operatives torture and kill when it suits them? Show me where I lied.”
Beck’s muscles contracted like heavy steel cables. His jaw quivered. “I love this country,” he said softly. “I’m trying to save it. You and the rest of the Left are a…disease. Taking America down.”
Ellis laughed. “Who’s that speech for?” He glanced at Collins and the other fighters positioned around the deck. “These guys? I don’t think they’re buyin’ it, man.”
Beck stepped forward and clubbed Ellis across the face with the back of his hand. The reporter crashed to the deck, hands still bound, blood spraying in a wide arc as he fell. He discharged a strangled, raspy cough and said in a thick voice, “Another murder then. In cold blood. Only proves my point.”
“Stand him up,” Beck commanded, and Collins jerked the prisoner to his feet.
“Unbind him.”
Collins removed the cuffs and Ellis massaged his wrists. Shook his hands out. Blood streamed from his nostrils, cascaded down his shirt and pooled on the polished teak deck, but he made no attempt to stanch the flow.
Beck moved closer, eyes locked on Ellis. “We’re going to fight, you and I,” he said. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, revealing heavy, thick muscles. “You attacked me—and my company—from afar. Now you can confront me face-to-face. Man-to-man.”
“I’m not playing this game,” said Ellis.
Beck glanced at one of the ex-SEALS waiting near the elevator: a compact bull of a man named Wilden. “Give him a weapon.” Wilden turned and fished a fiberglass case from a compartment in the wall.
“I’m not a fighting
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