The Price of Freedom
By R.A. Jetter
“Not from where I stand, it’s not. I’m getting out of this damned state,” Grizzley growled, kneeling in front of the satchel. “Matter of small fact, I’m leaving the country!” He paused and glared at Thomas. “Mr. Koboda, you certainly don’t need to remind me what price freedom carries, I’ve fought for it, damn near died for it! Freedom is never free! But I must thank you, you’ve just paid for mine.”
“It wasn’t I, Colonel. My Commander can purchase anything he wants, any time he wants. Everything has a price.”
“Maybe I should have upped my delivery price then,” a smirk appeared on Grizzley’s face. He zipped open the satchel and flipped through the neatly banded stacks of one hundred dollar bills. It appeared the majority of the bills were used and well worn, very few new ones were mixed in with the old inside the soft-sided satchel.
“That would not have been a wise decision, Colonel. My Commander lives by an old fashioned creed; a handshake is a signed contract, his word is his bond. Trust is a given, from the beginning, until proven otherwise. He expects the same from others. He has never reneged on a deal, any deal, and he dislikes intently those that practice deception and greed.”
Grizzley knew he’d been caught with a fistful of cookies inside the jar, he didn’t like that feeling. “What about you, Mr. Koboda? Do you live by the same creed?”
“To a certain extent, Colonel. But I am paid handsomely for my services.”
“Sounds like you’d bend the rules a little, too.” Grizzley smiled, zipped the satchel closed and stood.
“Colonel, I would do whatever my Commander asked, much the same as you would do whatever your Commander asked,” Thomas said, walking toward the aircraft, “for such services, I am rewarded. Rule bending is acceptable in certain circumstances. Is that a problem?”
“I do have a problem being out here in the middle of nowhere. Why did you want these delivered here? Wouldn’t it have been easier on some abandoned airstrip somewhere?” Grizzley stepped off the metal strip and kicked at a small lizard scurrying to find refuge under a red sandstone rock.
“Simply a test, Colonel,” a grin crossed Thomas’ face. “My Commander wanted to know how serious you were about collecting the balance of the payment. I can now tell him you did not disappoint. Surely you realize you are not the first to have been contracted?”
“Uhmm, no! I assumed…” Grizzley stopped mid-sentence, “…you’re telling me this is not the first shipment?”
“Colonel, let me put it this way…a shipment had been contracted for. The delivering agent also asked for 50%. He failed to deliver,” Thomas said, his smiling eyes and friendly grin gave way to cold reality, “he had an unfortunate accident while riding his new Harley.”
Grizzley swallowed hard. His mind raced; he recalled the hit and run accident some weeks ago, just outside the base perimeter. He hadn’t known Captain Steve McKee very well since he’d recently transferred in. The scuttlebutt went around about his new motorcycle. The boys in the squadron wondered how he could afford another toy on top of the speedboat, the 4×4 and the matching snowmobiles he’d bought a few weeks earlier. An Air Force Captain doesn’t earn that much money. Grizzley’s face flushed, he felt nauseated.