The Price of Freedom
By R.A. Jetter
“Colonel, please do not confuse me with an amateur. I clearly stated they are identical. Very few people know Air Force tactical weapons ground crews record serial numbers of all nuclear weapons when they are loaded. I am NOT one of those people. I knew the correct serial numbers of these three weapons even before you were ordered to transport them from Elmendorf AFB!”
“Where are these headed now?” Grizzley asked, dismissing his tirade.
“Colonel! Do you seriously want to know that?” Thomas shook his head side to side, answering his own question. He adjusted his leather jacket, the morning temperature was beginning to climb.
“I do,” Grizzley placed his hand on his service revolver and glared at Thomas. “Otherwise you won’t unload them, understand?”
“Suffice to say, Colonel, thanks to the U.S., Japan has been, constitutionally, outlawed from owning nuclear weapons.” Thomas unzipped his jacket and pulled the left side open, revealing a holstered .45. “In these days of unchecked terrorism, we have no way of defending ourselves from another nuclear attack. These items can even a score.”
Grizzley showed no emotion seeing Thomas’s pistol. “Japan’s also been outlawed from making war, on anyone, Bin Laden included. Why does a Japanese-American broker weapons?”
“Colonel, after the Tokyo nerve gas subway attack, if terrorists claim to have nuclear weapons, there’s every reason to believe they’ll use them, you know that.”
“All I want to know right now is do you have what I want?”
“Of course, Colonel. In the satchel, there,” Thomas turned and pointed behind him. “I’ll put it in the bay when the last nuclear device is removed.”
“I want to check it,” Grizzley said, walking toward the dark blue bag.
“Trust is a very fragile thing, Colonel,” Thomas cautioned. “Did we not trust you? Did you not get 50% up front as you requested?”
“I did. Just want to make sure the rest is there — that’s my independence. I’m through with the Air Force. I’m tired of risking my life, tired of fighting so everyone else gets rich while I keep the bad guys at arm’s length. You know, I’ve been shot down twice, wounded once. I flew Desert Storm, Bosnia, too, yet the damned yahoos in this country care less! I’ve had it,” Grizzley shouted, his Oklahoma drawl fading as he got angrier. “Then some sonuvabitch with a warped agenda blows up the Murrah building in Oklahoma City. My hometown! Killed innocent people…and children! I wish I coulda got my hands on that asshole…” his voice trailed off. “If I even thought these weapons were staying in the US, you sure as hell wouldn’t get them.”
“Independence has always carried a price…it can command an even higher price,” Thomas stared into Grizzley’s steel gray eyes, “a very high price indeed!” He brazenly turned his back to Grizzley and bent to pick a pink Columbine flower a few feet from the runway.
“Mmmmm, wonderful fragrance. Isn’t Colorado a wonderful state?”