School | Distance Driving (mi) | Straight Line Distance (mi) | Drive/Drone Difference | Variance (from all schools)A |
---|---|---|---|---|
Air Force | 8.44 | 5.22 | 3.22 | 0.047 |
Boise State | 1.00 | 0.282 | 0.718 | 1.069 |
Colorado State | 0.420 | 0.312 | 0.108 | 1.792 |
New Mexico | 0.206 | 0.191 | 0.015 | 1.920 |
Utah State | 0.444 | 0.305 | 0.139 | 1.751 |
Wyoming | 47.90 | 40.69 | 7.21 | 4.894 |
School | Distance Driving (mi) | Straight Line Distance (mi) | Drive/Drone Difference | Standard Deviation (all schools)A |
---|---|---|---|---|
Fresno State | 4.46 | 3.28 | 1.18 | 0.644 |
Hawai’i | 1.420 | 0.696 | 0.784 | 1.001 |
Nevada (Reno) | 2.410 | 1.69 | 0.720 | 1.067 |
Nevada – Las Vegas (SBS)b | 18.426 | 8.93 | 11.258 | |
Nevada – Las Vegas (NVS)c | 2.125 | 0.590 | 1.535 | 0.391 |
San Diego State | 9.861 | 8.08 | 1.78 | 0.252 |
San José State | 6.575 | 4.60 | 1.975 | 0.164 |
Authoritarians also dispense largesse, but they do it by their own whims, rather than pursuant to any system or legal rule. The point of authoritarianism is to concentrate power in the ruler, so the world knows that all actions, good and bad, harsh and generous, come from a single source. (The New Yorker)Last week, Trump granted pardons and commutations to 11 people with one thing in common: connections. Trump bypassed the process of formal procedures typically used to determine who is given a pardon, instead relying on connections to his wealthy friends and political allies.
Judge Jackson: “The truth still exists. The truth still matters. Roger Stone's insistence that it doesn't, his belligerence, his pride in his own lies are a threat to our most fundamental institutions, to the very foundation of our democracy...The dismay and the disgust at the attempts by others to defend his actions as just business as usual in our polarized climate should transcend party. The dismay and the disgust with any attempts to interfere with the efforts of prosecutors and members of the judiciary to fulfill their duty should transcend party.Judge Jackson pushes back
"Sure, the defense is free to say: So what? Who cares? But, I'll say this: Congress cared. The United States Department of Justice and the United States Attorney's Office for the District of Columbia that prosecuted the case and is still prosecuting the case cared. The jurors who served with integrity under difficult circumstances cared. The American people cared. And I care."
"Stone’s Motion for New Trial is directly related to the integrity of a juror. It is alleged that a juror misled the Court regarding her ability to be unbiased and fair and the juror attempted to cover up evidence that would directly contradict her false claims of impartiality," his lawyers argued.As expected, Jackson denied the motion to have her disqualified...
"The premature statement blessing the “integrity of the jury” undermines the appearance of impartiality and presents a strong bias for recusal," they added.
"That juror is so biased and so tainted, that shouldn't happen in our criminal justice system… You have a juror that is obviously tainted. She was an activist against Trump. She said bad things about Trump and bad things about Stone," the President claimed without evidence. "She somehow weaseled her way onto the jury and if that's not a tainted jury then there is no such thing as a tainted jury."
A new boss, Timothy Shea, had just arrived and had told them on his first day that he wanted a more lenient recommendation for Mr. Stone, and he pushed back hard when they objected, according to two people briefed on the dispute. They grew suspicious that Mr. Shea was helping his longtime friend and boss, Attorney General William P. Barr, soften the sentencing request to please the president.
...The tensions between the office, the Justice Department and the White House date back further than the tumult in the Stone case. They have been simmering since at least last summer, when the office’s investigation of Andrew G. McCabe, a former top F.B.I. official whom the president had long targeted, began to fall apart.
Mr. Shea’s predecessor, Jessie K. Liu, a lawyer whom Mr. Trump had appointed to lead the office in 2017, pressed the McCabe case even after one team of prosecutors concluded that they could not win a conviction. After a second team was brought in and also failed to deliver a grand jury indictment, Ms. Liu’s relationship with Mr. Barr grew strained, people close to them said. She left the position this year, though she and Mr. Barr have both stressed to associates that her departure was amicable.
This is in the style of autocrats across the globe, who weaponize the law to help themselves and their friends and hurt their enemies. The nation’s legal system is now run by a man who has spent his life mocking it. (NYT Editorial Board)Meanwhile, the president’s allies have reportedly been urging him to fire anyone who was involved in Mueller’s investigation:
The MAGA punditry’s outsized influence over the president means their campaign against the so-called Mueller “holdovers” is likely not falling on deaf ears, especially given Trump’s fixation with what his defenders and detractors are saying about his administration in their frequent appearances on his favorite TV programs.What can be done about the politicization of the DOJ? In an op-ed for The Washington Post, Cass Sunstein of Harvard Law School suggests that “Congress should transform the Justice Department into an independent agency, legally immunized from the president’s day-to-day control.”
“It's totally unclear to me why any members of the Mueller team need to remain in the Trump DOJ,” the pro-Trump conservative blogger Will Chamberlain wrote after news broke of the Stone sentencing recommendation.
...GOP operative Arthur Schwartz, a close friend of Donald Trump Jr. who has been described as the eldest son’s “fixer,” said of the career officials in question: “I think they should all be investigated.”
...John Dowd, a former Trump lawyer who remains in touch with the White House, characterized the line attorneys in the Stone case as “insubordinate,” and “the same crowd of prosecutors wedded to the Mueller agenda” who need to be “cleaned out” from DOJ. “And Bill Barr is doing that,” Dowd said.
The justice wrote that granting emergency applications often upends "the normal appellate process" while "putting a thumb on the scale in favor of the party that won." Targeting her conservative colleagues, she said "most troublingly, the Court's recent behavior" has benefited "one litigant over all others."
"Claiming one emergency after another, the Government has recently sought stays in an unprecedented number of cases," Sotomayor said. "It is hard to say what is more troubling," she said, pointing to the case at hand, "that the Government would seek this extraordinary relief seemingly as a matter of course, or that the Court would grant it." CNN
The Justice Department revealed Tuesday that law enforcement officials running Ukraine-related investigations must seek approval before expanding their inquiries — a move that could have implications for Rudolph W. Giuliani, as President Trump’s personal attorney pushes for scrutiny of the president’s political foes while facing a federal probe into his own conduct.
Assistant Attorney General Stephen E. Boyd wrote to Nadler that the department had tapped two U.S. attorneys to assist in the process — Scott Brady in Pittsburgh to receive and assess new information, and Richard Donoghue in Brooklyn to help coordinate personnel throughout the Justice Department involved in Giuliani’s case and others with a focus on Ukraine. An accompanying internal memo, circulated by Rosen in January, says that he and Donoghue must approve expansions of any inquiries.
In effect, the Hill said Solomon amplified an inaccurate and one-sided narrative about the Bidens and Ukraine that was fed to him by Giuliani, “facilitated” by businessman Lev Parnas, who was working with Giuliani at the time, and reinforced by Solomon’s own attorneys, who also represented clients embroiled in U.S.-Ukraine politics.
But the Hill stopped short of retracting or apologizing for Solomon’s articles, nor did it say it shouldn’t have published them. It also didn’t characterize Solomon’s motives in presenting what appears to be a largely debunked conspiracy theory about Ukraine.
“In certain columns, Solomon failed to identify important details about key Ukrainian sources, including the fact that they had been indicted or were under investigation,” said the internal investigation, which was overseen by the newspaper’s editor, Bob Cusack. “In other cases, the sources were [Solomon’s] own attorneys” — Victoria Toensing and Joseph DiGenova, who have also represented President Trump and Giuliani, who was also a key source for Solomon’s columns.
Solomon didn’t disclose this connection in his columns nor did he disclose to his editors that he shared drafts of his stories with Toensing, DiGenova and Parnas, the review noted.
Trump has told his lawyers that Bolton should not be allowed to publish any of his interactions with him about national security because they are privileged and classified, these people said. He has also repeatedly brought up the book with his team, asking whether Bolton is going to be able to publish it, they said.
Trump told national television anchors on Feb. 4 during an off-the-record lunch that material in the book was “highly classified,” according to notes from one participant in the luncheon. He then called him a “traitor.”
“We’re going to try and block the publication of the book,” Trump said, according to the notes. “After I leave office, he can do this. But not in the White House...I give the guy a break. I give him a job. And then he turns on me,” Trump added during the West Wing lunch. “He’s just making things up.”
"I thought a lot about if I had been in that position how would I have approached it, and I'll be honest: It's inconceivable to me that if I had firsthand knowledge of gross abuse of presidential power that I would withhold my testimony from a constitutional accountability process.”
"I can't imagine withholding my testimony, with or without a subpoena," Rice said. "I also can't imagine, frankly, in the absence of being able to provide the information directly to Congress, not having exercised my First Amendment right to speak publicly at a time when my testimony or my experience would be relevant. And, frankly, when my subordinates ... were doing their duty and responding in a fashion consistent with their legal obligations to provide information."
"I would feel like I was shamefully violating the oath that I took to support and defend the Constitution."
President Donald Trump’s choice to stay at his own Las Vegas hotel each night during the western states swing that wraps up Friday likely cost taxpayers a million extra dollars as well as diverted thousands of them into his own cash registers.Breaking with precedent, Trump flew back to Vegas to stay every night at his Trump International Hotel, despite his day activities taking place in California, Arizona, and Colorado.
Had Trump held the same events but done so in a geographically logical order ― starting in Beverly Hills and finishing in Colorado Springs, but overnighting each day in the city where he would begin the following morning ― Trump would have spent four fewer hours aboard Air Force One, thereby saving taxpayers about $1.1 million.This week, Trump has a whole new country to focus on: India, home to the largest portfolio of Trump real estate projects outside North America, according to the president’s son Donald Trump Jr. According to The Washington Post, since the elder Trump’s last trip to India in 2014, two of his business partners have encountered massive legal and financial trouble.
...Indeed, the repeated overnight trips to Las Vegas may have forced the Secret Service and other support personnel to keep a motorcade there for a full four days, rather than move it to the site of an upcoming presidential trip
In 2018, the president’s son, Donald Trump Jr. — who runs the Trump Organization with his brother, Eric Trump — spent several days in India promoting the family’s developments, attending a champagne dinner with condo buyers who plunked down $39,000 deposits and bringing in millions of dollars in new sales. While there, he also met with Modi behind closed doors. The next year, Trump’s Indian business partners flew 100 early buyers of his luxury condos near Delhi to visit Trump Tower and Trump Ferry Point golf course in New York City as a way to generate interest in the properties in India. One attendee gushed afterward about meeting the son of a U.S. president on the trip.
President Donald Trump’s campaign is bringing on an alum of the controversial data firm Cambridge Analytica...Matt Oczkowski, who served as head of product at Cambridge before it went bankrupt and shut down in 2018, is helping oversee the Trump campaign’s data program...Oczkowski, who also worked on Trump’s 2016 effort, joined the reelection campaign in January, and payments to his company, HuMn Behavior, are expected to show up on Trump’s next campaign finance disclosure later this month. (Politico)An Axios report revealed where most of Trump’s re-election campaign is spending its advertising budget: on Facebook ads. “Last fall, the campaign urged Facebook to keep the same tools for political advertisers that they make available to companies...Facebook ultimately decided not to change its policies around microtargeting.” However, unlike in 2016, the campaign is also diversifying, “testing new strategies on several dozen platforms, including YouTube, Google, ad exchanges, publisher networks and conservative podcasts.”
The United States is against mentioning climate change in the communique of the world’s financial leaders, G20 diplomats said, after a new draft of the joint statement showed the G20 are considering including it as a risk factor to growth...G20 sources said the United States was reluctant to accept language on climate change as a risk to the economy. ReutersOn Sunday, it was announced that the U.S. ultimately agreed to a less-prominent placement for the risks of climate change. It will now appear in language referencing the Financial Stability Board’s work examining the implications of climate change for financial stability.
One of the G20 sources said it was the first time a reference to climate change had been included in a G20 finance communique during Trump’s presidency, even though it was removed from the top of the joint statement. U.S. officials have resisted naming climate change as an economic risk since Trump took office in 2017. One of his first acts as president was to announce Washington’s withdrawal from the Paris climate accord.
"All traitors must die miserable deaths," Atkinson's email read in part, the indictment says. "Those that represent traitors shall meet the same fate[.] We will hunt you down and bleed you out like the pigs you are. We have nothing but time, and you are running out of it, Keep looking over your shoulder[.] We know who you are, where you live, and who you associate with[.] We are all strangers in a crowd to you[.]"On Wednesday, Salvatore Lippa of New York was arrested for threatening to assault and murder Rep. Adam Schiff and Sen. Chuck Schumer in voicemails last month.
Lippa started the threatening message by calling the congressman "Schiff, Shifty Schiff," invoking the nickname used by President Donald Trump for Schiff, the lead House manager during Trump's impeachment trial.
...When questioned by U.S Capitol Police, Lippa admitted to making the threatening calls to Schiff and Schumer because he said he was upset about the impeachment proceedings, prosecutors said.
submitted by dourdan to BarryPepper [link] [comments] Welcome to my novel, inspired by Barry Pepper's role in Crawl (2019) Chapter 1: Envy, Wrath Nobody ever imagines themselves as a victim. I certainly didn't. I admit I was kind of a cocky little shit so maybe I deserved to be here: half-naked in a swamp with a bullet in my chest. I think there was also a bullet in my head, either that or I cracked my skull on something while in the process of crawling out of my makeshift grave. "I am Army Master Sergeant Adam Severgine," I said out loud to no one. I needed to remain conscious, I needed to survive. This was no different from a deployment. Except instead of fighting for my country, for the chance to prove myself, I was fighting to dig myself out of a shithole of my own creation. "I am Adam Severgine, husband, father...addict." Tears filled my eyes. My wife and daughter were miles away in Biloxi, Mississippi. I had no fear of death and dying but eventually, they would find out how badly I fucked up. I lost thousands of dollars in gambling, booze, heroin, meth. I should have just gotten out when I had the chance. Instead, I turned tricks, ran drugs; I became a bitch to avoid becoming a bitch. The idea made me laugh. "Ow..." Fuck, I'm going to die. "No, you're not." The male voice sounded calm, serene. "Do you even know where you are?" ‘I know I'm imagining you, whatever the fuck you are.’ "Because the mighty Master Sergeant Adam could never be communicating with an angel," the voice said with a laugh. The grass in front of me started to blow in the wind. \swish* *crunch* *swish* *crunch** The blades of grass seemed to grow taller, their shadows forming the shape of a man with long wavy hair. "Is that what you are?" I asked with a chuckle. A sharp pain struck my side; I definitely had broken ribs. As the angel came closer, he seemed to materialize into a mortal form; olive skin, green eyes, and hair that seemed to be streaked with red, blue, purple and gold. "What do you think I am?" "You kind of look like the Lord, Jesus Christ," I said, my voice starting to slur into a southern accent as I felt my mind drifting away. The angel laughed as he ran his fingers through his rainbow hair. "I'll take that as a compliment." He then reached over his shoulder and pulled on a golden cloak out of thin air. "Are you ready to go?" "Go where?" The angel shrugged. "Does it matter?" "I guess not." Any place had to be better than dying alone in the swamp. The angel reached out his hand. "You can call me Leo." I took his hand, as I did, a series of letters flashed before my eyes; 'E-N-V-Y.' The letters were in thick black font as if someone was throwing them at my face. But why 'envy'? I jolt awake, in full uniform, outside of a commander's office. I had been here before but where was I? "Come in," said a female voice. I knew who it was; Lt General Allyssa Blake. I was back at my station in Alaska. Still afraid of how the hell I managed to travel back in time I took a breath and entered the office giving the appropriate salute. The much younger woman had blonde hair, light blue eyes, and lips that made me dream of what she looked like out of uniform. "At ease," she said with her soft breathy voice. She returned the salute and motioned for me to take a seat. Allyssa never sounded like an officer. She gave off ASMR, that tingly feeling down your spine. She was pageant-queen beautiful, brilliant, but more than anything she was kind. Her wonderful heart was the only thing keeping me from bending her over the desk and fucking her brains out. Sat down, focusing my eyes on the floor. I at least knew what this meeting was about. "Thank you for meeting with me Ma'am." "Of course, Sergeant. Do you still want the transfer?" Was this a memory or a test? "The transfer to Mississippi?" "Yes, unless there was another position you were interested in pursuing." "Sorry, I'm just a little one edge as of late. I apologize for the nature of my request I-" My daughter was sick, my wife was cheating on me because she was 'lonely.' I needed to be home, to reclaim my family. "Hey," she stood up and took my hand. "I love you, Adam. You're a good guy. You're going to go home and you're going to fix this. I already have a replacement lined up." "You do?" This part was new. I never stuck around to learn who she put in my position. "Lawrence will take over." "Lawrence Heath?" Lawrence Heath was an Air Force liaison officer. He had more training and education then I did so from a technical standpoint he was a good choice. But he was also Alyssa's ex who transferred to Japan after she miscarried their son. "He wants to marry me," her voice was so angelic, calm. Time stood still. I can feel a sharp pain in my chest. "Leo? Please tell me this is a dream." Leo placed his hand upon my shoulder. "What do you remember about Lawrence?" "H-He never actually hurt her." "Alyssa miscarried in the middle of the office. You drove her to the hospital. You held her hand while she cried. Where was he?" "He was at work. He came to her as soon as he could. I loved her like a sister, and I know it broke her when he left. But she loved him." I reached my hand to touch Alyssa's frozen cheek. "I hope they found happiness." "Impressive," Leo said, starting a slow clap. I turned to see my guardian angel sitting on an office chair, his rainbow hair flowing about his face. "I wonder how someone so noble ended up in a place like this." "What?" With a jolt, I was back in the swamp. My chest felt like it was being crushed and my head was throbbing. In my hands, I felt an unbearable burning sensation. But I knew perfectly well why that was. Shooting up heroin between your broken fingers tends to fuck shit up. I forced myself to scoot backward until I felt myself leaning against a massive tree. The rough bark cut into the skin of my back and neck, but I was still grateful for the opportunity to rest. Lighting cracked the sky, forming a distinct series of patterns, 'W-R-A-T-H'- Wrath? I couldn't help but smirk. I mean, I had plenty to be angry about. So, I was actually curious as to where the angel was going to take me next. "I'm ready." I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming, breath. I could hear the sound of a plane landing. My skin was no longer in pain, but my heart as beating a mile a minute as I stood in the cool airconditioned TSA waiting room. I knew where this was. When I opened my eyes, I was meeting my daughter. My wife and I had tried for years to conceive but it was never meant to be. At the age of thirty, we started the process to adopt from China. After years of waiting, we stood hand in hand at the immigration office of Jackson, Mississippi. China had been our last hope. For whatever reason, we were unable to even get on a waiting list for a European or North American baby. That was another reason I was nervous. The little girl was already six months old. What if she took one look at me and decided, 'Nope, I'm not going to be able to love these military-redneck white folks?' I was scared. Fate had a reason for never blessing us with a biological child. As the adoption rep put the baby in my arms, I felt only the light of God's love. "Hello, Cece." My wife scoffed, "I thought we agreed on a name- Annabelle-Rylie?" "Felicity June Severgine," that's her name, my daughter's name. The next few moments flew by in a blur, but a painful number of them were of me abandoning my family. As the years passed, I saw myself in uniform leaving for deployment; moments when I truly believed that I might not come back alive. Other times I was just in sweatpants and a t-shirt as I kissed my family goodbye. Before my eyes, Cece transformed from a toddler to a teen. I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. The last time I saw Cece she was no longer the beautiful girl I remembered. I closed my eyes and fell to my knees. "Oh, God..." I knew what I was going to see; my angel my reason for living, in a medically induced coma. "She never told you what really happened," said Leo's disembodied voice. I stood up to see the angel standing over Cece's bed. "My wife told me it was pneumonia." I'd never made it to my daughter's side to see for myself. "Marni told you that, knowing it would take you at least a month to get home. The wounds healed by then. And what didn't heal could be explained away. Ironically, after a seizure, she did develop a sepsis infection in her lung that mimicked pneumonia." Leo made his way to Cece's side and held her hand. "But you didn't see what she looked like the day of the phone call." Leo kissed Cece's forehead. "I'm so sorry little one, this will only last a moment." I had a feeling I was not supposed to hear that last part. Cece had a breathing tube but as time regressed it vanished, replaced with the monstrous number of wounds. She cried, then screamed. Her face covered in bruises, cuts, and clearly broken bones. Her clothing transformed into a short blue dress; one I had never seen before. Time stood still as my government issue phone rang. I hit my thigh only to feel no pockets. The phone was in the palm of my hand. "Hello?" "Hi, Daddy." I remember this conversation. She said she came home from a dance. Homecoming, Prom? "I went to a party," Cece's said, her voice cracking with sadness. "It was great." Silence. Leo poked my arm. "Hey, it's your line." With trembling hands, I moved the phone to my mouth to speak. "That's great, baby." "Should go," she said as her breathing became labored. It was clear she was trying not to cry. "I-I love you, Daddy." Marni came in the room just as Cece hung up. "Hi, sweetie, do you feel up to talking to the police officers? They need to get your statement and do a rape kit." "Yes, Mom," Cece glanced at the phone, giving it a squeeze. "I'll be ok. I just wish Dad was here." I got to see the rest of the scene. According to her statement, she had been raped, beaten and left for dead. That was how she escaped. When her date (and his three friends) thought she was dead, they locked her in the trunk. She remembered what her father had told her about how to escape a trunk and managed to not only kick out the tail light but also get the trunk open while the piece-of-shit car was going forty down a backroad. Battered and bloody she ran for her life until she found her way to the main street. Leo placed his hand upon my shoulder. "What would you have done if you knew the truth? "I would have fucking killed the bastards." "Really?" Leo waved his hand, to focus back on the scene. Marni took a seat, holding Cece's hand. "What did you tell your Dad?" "Nothing. I didn't want him to be disappointed in me," she said, burying her face in her pillow. "I could ever be disappointed with you," I said out loud. I knew she couldn't hear me, that hurt more than anything. But not more than the feeling of my leg getting blown off. A sharp pain shot through my leg. Suddenly I was back in terrorist occupied Iraq, riding in a supply convoy. A larger truck ran us off the road, into an IED. At least that's what I was told. The vehicle I was in exploded, and I was pinned under the rubble. Somehow my leg was extracted from the mess and sent along with the rest of my broken body to Landstuhl, Germany where I spent the next few weeks waking up. At the time, my home station was in Colorado Springs, Colorado. That was where my wife was living with a then eleven-year-old Cece. I remember I’d asked that I be transferred back to my family; if I was going to die, I wanted to die at home. My superiors, the US military; they owed me that much. My next memory was of Cece staying by my side. I'd suffered burns over twenty-five percent of my body, there were bone shards in my hips and my leg had been put back together with pins and rods. It was a unique sensation, to be a living mass of pain. The local medical team determined that I would never walk again. So, the goal was to make me comfortable. I was allowed at-home hospice care. This meant that I was placed under the attention of a nurse for administering therapy, and medications, but during the majority of the week my wife was tasked with wound care. At least she was supposed to be. My wife never touched me. To do so would have meant to show some level of compassion. I remember Cece asked the nurse to teach her how to change the dressing on my leg. I have to assume the nurse thought she was curious and adorably sweet. Because otherwise, it was not the safest practice. I closed my eyes. When I awoke, I was back in that wonderful moment. "Cece?" "Hi, Daddy," my little daughter said in a calm whisper as she donned oversized medical gloves. “Hi, Sweetheart,” I replied in a horse whisper. “If I hurt you, I’m really sorry.” She changed out the gauze, using a bottle of peroxide to wash the open wounds. I flinched but tried my best to stay quiet. "Mom said that I needed to say goodbye," Cece explained as she worked with a gentle touch. "She told me the only reason you came home is because you're too sick to go back. I don't believe her." She finished in silence before getting a clean blanket from the closet. "You're going to walk again." She cuddled by my side, resting her head on my shoulder. "Superheroes don't die." My heart filled with a sense of faith that I didn't know was possible. She spent her summer by my side; changing my bandages, helping with physical therapy. I was also working with a therapy nurse who was impressed by my level of strength. For Cece's twelfth birthday she had a party at the on-base movie theatre. I paid the bills but Marni took on the responsibility of making the day special for our daughter. Cece invited her entire class, she looked so genuinely happy. I arrived in my wheelchair. As the movie played, it was 'Step Up', some kind of dance movie from the golden age of hip-hop music. The movie was played on the projector as background noise, as the kids ate pizza and talked. I waited in the back until she noticed me. "Dad!" She broke off a conversation with several friends to run over to me. "Oh my god! Did you just get here? How was your therapy appointment?" From my wheelchair, I reached to the cane at my side and I stood up. Cece cupped her hands over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. I took my first (pain-stricken) steps since the accident that should have taken my life. I stood tall, strong, as Cece threw her arms around me. "I love you, Daddy. You're my hero." she paused to wipe tears from her eyes. "But does this mean you're leaving again?" I was. I could have taken medical retirement, stayed with my family. But I needed the money. I needed to pay off a mortgage, send my daughter to a good college: I wanted to make my family proud. So, I took a position in Alaska as a squadron lead. That’s when the addictions started. painkillers lead to heroin. loneliness lead to gambling and prostitution. all because I left behind the one person who truly cared. The world went dark. I was sitting alone in an empty theatre as Leo appeared on the screen. "Hi, Adam. Wow, this is certainly an interesting view." "Yeah," I replied in a weak voice. "Well, I have to ask, what would you have done if you knew the truth about your daughter's assault?" All I could do was laugh. The situation was clear now: I was dead and this was Hell. "You really want to know?" Leo shook his head. "Look, I'm not a sadist, I just have a job to do. I was human once, just like you. And no, you're not in hell." “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” The man laughed as he turned towards the theatre and with one swift motion, seemed to jump from the screen. He walked towards me, with the fabric of the curtain attached to his back like wings. "So, what would you have done? Her attackers were never prosecuted. If you had a moment with those boys in a soundproof room with just your revolver, what would you do?" I thought for a moment. I had no one to blame but myself. "I would eat my gun." Was Cece dead? I needed to know. If she was gone, I truly wanted to die. Leo approached me, placing a hand upon my shoulder. "Much better, on to the next test." I gripped his arm. "Why should I trust you?" Leo rolled his eyes. "Maybe because I'm the one with the magic powers." "You're my driver," I said in a tone that came off ruder than intended. "But what would happen if I said I'd rather walk to my final destination." Leo chuckled and shrugged. "Hell, if I know. Maybe someone will find your body. Maybe you'll reunite with Cece in heaven. Or maybe she'll survive and grow up believing that her hero abandoned her. What do you want from me?" "You said you were human once- I want to know something about you." Leo cupped his hand to my face, tracing a finger along my jawline. He appeared to be studying my features, which gave me an opportunity to study his. "What do you see when you look at me?" "You have green eyes," I said in a whisper. His eyes were hypnotic, his breath; warm, comforting, human. "I know what it feels like to love someone until it hurts." Leo leaned in and kissed my lips, breathing a long constant stream of air that seemed to crackle with electricity. Chapter 2: Lust, Greed 'All you need is love? Love? Love is all you need?' The voices hummed in my ear. They weren't singing, they were asking. I know where I am and I don't want to open my eyes. "How does that feel?" asked a voice that was not Leo. It was Dr. Ethan Rogers, my physical therapist. He was a younger man; late twenties, early thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes- the most all-American soldier you could ever hope to meet. And he was massaging my naked thigh with a vibrator. I know I'm hard, and I know what he's about to do next. "I'm going to put this inside you," he said in a most professional tone of voice. I could have attacked him, punched him in the face, or at the very least or at least said no. But it felt so good. I knew my scar tissue was prominent. It was a disgusting crater that ran along the entirety of my leg. I stayed in shape; my body was lean, muscular but that seemed all for show. I needed to look the part of a soldier, maybe if I was lucky, I would be able to pass my physical. My legs were for running, training. My cock was for pissing. My ass was for shitting. It had been months since I allowed myself to feel sexual pleasure. "Just relax, let yourself go." Damn it feels incredible. My eyes open on their own, staring straight into the blinding room light. The bulb is blinking forcing me to blink. Letters form in the shape of the light. 'L-U-S-T.' Yeah, I guess so. But it wasn't a lust for sex. I feel him inject my leg; my broken, mangled leg. My leg that existed for the sole purpose of causing me unbearable pain, akin to the fires of hell. In a matter of moments, all of that was but a memory. He told me he was giving me morphine but I knew it had to be something stronger. That shit fucked with my head. Like a cool wave of tranquility; life death and every emotion in-between. "I can get you a prescription for morphine, maybe even fentanyl.” His voice is calm, cool, like an ice tea on a hot day. “All you have to do is submit to me." All I could do was laugh. "Sure, sounds great." My speech was slurred. This man was the devil and I willingly jumped headfirst down the rabbit hole into Hell. I was physically fit. Dr. Ethan Rogers knew he could rent me out to anyone who had a fetish for dominating. Over the next year and a half, I lived as a sex-slave. I was bound, gagged. I sucked cock and even let men fuck me in my on-base housing. I was a human party favor, but I was always well compensated. I took their pills, so many pills, all the colors of the rainbow. Most of the time, I never knew what any of it was, only that it was my prize. And when given vials of heroin, meth and God knows what else, I shot up in my arms, legs, but mainly my hands just because no one at my actual job seemed to notice my hands. It was a perfect system. By day I was a soldier; a flawless, reliable worker who could be counted on for any job. I was a great husband and father who was working tirelessly to make sure his family would be taken care of. I worked myself to the bone, playing through the pain. But at night I was free. Until the day my heart stopped. I awoke in Alysa Blake's room, on her sofa. "Wow, you fucked up." The general looked like her actual youthful age. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun. "Aly?" I tried to speak but immediately had to vomit. General Blake had a bucket waiting by the side of my head. "You're going to stay here for a while." She placed a cold washcloth to my neck focusing on my artery. "This is going to help with the pain in your chest." I shook my head. "But, what about my leg?" "You're not the only one living with chronic pain." Alyssa took my hand a placed it on her hip, just below her abs. There was a massive scar. I knew the story; she had been shot in the hip; the bone and surrounding tissue had to be rebuilt. This was likely the reason for her later miscarriage. "I'm not giving you anything for your leg. You're probably going to have another seizure from all the drugs you already took." I tried to move, to sit up- anything. But the pain seemed to course through my body. I wanted to cry or scream, but no sound was coming from my parched throat. I gripped my head as a massive migraine pounded my vision. In the midst of my agony, I didn't even notice Alyssa leave and return with a blanket until the moment she cuddled by my side. "I'm going to stay with you." I nodded, with a noticeable lump in my throat. "Talk to me about Cece." Alyssa put her arms around me as she rested her head on my chest. “What is she like?” I knew what this was. This moment, it was the opposite of lust. Nothing was worth more than my family, my daughter "She's a dancer." "A dancer?" "I think my wife has her in gymnastics and cheerleading but she..." I swallowed hard thinking about the last time we talked. Cece asked if she could send me a link to a video of her ballet recital. She loved ballet, she wanted to be a choreographer. She sent the link but my Alaska internet was too weak to see it without an extensive amount of buffering. And the camera had been placed so far back I could barely make out her face. I told her as much, but that I would love to see her dance someday. "Have you seen any of her performances?" I nodded. "C-Can I have some water?" "Sure." Alyssa turned away, attempting to sit up. Try as a might, my arms wouldn't let her go. "I feel sick. But, more than anything, don't want to cry in front of my commanding officer." Alyssa glared at me with a look of seriousness. "I found you in your room bleeding from your ass. I performed CPR until you were lucid enough to walk with your arm around my shoulder." She only lived a few houses down and often visited. I couldn't remember making the walk to her house but it wouldn't be the first time. I had the habit of dialing her number when I was too high to think straight. "My apologies Ma'am." She reached for my hand, stroking between my fingers. "If I was here as your commanding officer you would be in a hospital awaiting a medical discharge." Her fingers paused on an open sore where I injected regularly. "I'm here as your friend, because what you need right now is a friend." I knew she wasn't wrong. "Thank you." "So, tell me about the time you saw your little girl dance." My hands were trembling as my eyes filled with tears. "She sent me a USB." "She sent you a file on a flash drive? Wow, that's really sweet." "Cece had somehow used her phone to record a solo piece in her backyard. I didn't recognize the song, something Gaelic sounding about finding your wings to touch the sky." With the warm memory in my heart, my body relaxed. "That sounds like the theme from the movie Brave," Alyssa said as she sat up. "Wow, that brings back memories. Anyway, I'm going to get you some water now." Brave? Of course, it was. Alyssa returned with a bottled water and a straw. "Take small sips." Once it appeared like I was not going to vomit again she took her place back on my chest, holding me close. "You need to go home." "I know." I stroked her hair as I looked up at her stucco ceiling. "You need to research a position at a base closer to your family,” she said as she kissed my cheek. “And I will sign off on it." "Thank you." Now I just wish she talked me out of driving down to the states. Maybe I wouldn't have fucked up as badly as I did. A lonely drive, six hours on the road, maybe eight. Behind the wheel of a rented SUV carrying all my worldly possessions, I thought I could keep focus, I thought I- And here comes the crash. I opened my eyes, but all I see is darkness. "Leo, are you there?" I could feel someone grab my hand, pulling me from the vehicle. It wasn't Leo, but rather a younger male, possibly a teen. "Wow, Leo was right, you are fucked up." The kid pulled me out of the vehicle, seemingly indifferent to my level of pain. "You should grab your wallet and suitcase. We have a bit of a walk into town.” I did as he asked. I could recall what happened at this moment in time. While it did not include a Native American surfer-boy, I knew where we were headed. "How long did you manage to stay clean for?" the smug teen asked. I turned to him with a look of contempt. He stood maybe 5'9", and although he had an attractive face and youthful demeanor, I would have no problem punching his lights out. "Really, old man?" The boy laughed. "Master Sergeant Adam Severgine," I said with a groan. "I know," he said, happily, skipping down the road. "I'm Jamie. Welcome to Oklahoma." "How old are you? And where's Leo?" "Leo will meet us in town. And as for me-" Jamie did a backflip landing in front of my face, close enough to kiss my lips. "I'm legal." "Are you a guardian angel too?" "Are you asking if I have powers?" "I am," I replied through gritted teeth. I could remember how long the original walk took me. By the time I got to town, my leg was killing me. "That's not why you got high off your ass." "Oh, fuck you!" "You got clean just long enough to pass a physical, for the job transfer. And then you started using again like the fucked-up junkie that you are!" Jamie continued doing flips and cartwheels down the empty road. I focused on my own path looking down at my boots as I walked. My leg was mostly healed, to the point where I could walk unassisted, I could even drive. But I still felt an ache, a chronic pain that would never go away no matter what drugs I took. Jamie appeared in front of me, lifting my face to look into his eyes. "I'm bored and I miss my boyfriend so I'm going to do you a favor." He punched me in the face with all the force of a fighter jet. I awoke on the floor of a casino. And I do mean floor: My eyes opened to reveal the sight of paramedics working frantically. They had apparently just finished restarting my heart. When I looked straight ahead, sitting at a slot machine was Jamie. The little punk was doubled over in laughter. Leo stepped out of the shadows. He raised a finger giving the 'give me a second' sign. He embraced Jamie, speaking to him in a quiet tone. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but at least Leo was calming him down. When Jamie finally stopped laughing, the couple walked to the elevators. A tall older man, in a suit, came over to check on the scene. He was the hotel manager and a former Marine. We talked for a while, with me telling him my situation. He kindly offered to give me a room for the night, free of charge. It was the least he could do for a fellow soldier. Yes, it was only for one night. I could contact the rental agency and they could send a new car to my location. But until then he offered to buy me dinner and give me a tour of the hotel and casino. Everything was going great. After hanging out with my new friend I took a seat at one of the many the table poker tables. I was by no means an expert but I preferred tables, to computer-generated games of chance. That was when I met Lola. She looked like a typical cocktail waitress, just a few years away from retirement. She was possibly old enough to be my mother (either that or she had just spent too much time in the sun,) but she was undeniably beautiful. She made sure to flirt, playing with her long blonde hair as she brought me free drinks. "Drink up," she said, before taking a shot. She cupped my face, forcing the shot of whiskey down my throat. "It's on me, love." Next thing I knew she was on my lap. I was winning hand after hand; she was truly my good luck charm. When I was too drunk to walk, she offered to escort me to my room. I remember collapsing on to the bed. I could feel her hands, her long nails, then her mouth. When I was ready, she started to ride me. Talking dirty in a way that my wife never did, I gave her full control. she got on her knees and wanted me to fuck her from behind. I did, and what was when a man barged in with a master key. It was the manager. My memory is blacking in and out but I remember him getting on the bed. He and Lola are laughing. They offer me cocaine. The next morning, I awoke to the sight of Lola in my bed. Her naked chest was moving, so I had no immediate reason to panic. Jamie stood in the corner wide-eyed. "Wow, I was raped to death by a demonic cult and even I found that disturbing." Leo walked through the wall to stand at Jamie's side. "And this isn't even the worst of it." I tried to sit up but my body hurt. "Why, the fuck, are you even here?" Just my luck, I had a pair of fuck-boy morons for guardian angels. Leo sighed. He approached the bed, stroking Lola's hand. "You can't change the past." He made a turn to the closet, grabbing my phone from my pocket. "But you can choose your future." I was lucid enough to move my arm and unlock my screen. I had wi-fi. I clicked on my email. it was open to a message from Cece, starting with a link that I had never seen before. "Greed.mov?" Leo shrugged. "You should probably take a look." I clicked. There was Cece in her blue dress, sitting on her bed. "Hi, Dad. I'm a little nervous. I really like Jason, and well, I wish you could have met him. He's so much like you. He wants to join the Marines, travel the world. I mean, I guess I'd write to him. A lot of my friends are planning on getting married, so their boyfriends don't cheat. It's really stupid. Jason says he loves me, he wants to marry me. I'm pretty sure he just wants to fuck me." Cece looked down at her silver ring. It had belonged to my grandmother who passed away before Cece was born. I had given it to my daughter on her sixteenth birthday. It was only then, on that video, did I notice where she wore it. She wore it like a wedding ring: a purity ring. Cece looked to the side, at her computer, to press a few keys. "I hope this will help my anxiety." The music starts to play, it was a slow, Celtic, song. I watched as she moved her arms, in a graceful ballet pose. She appeared to be free-styling a dance piece, in her room, dancing on her bare feet. It was truly breathtaking. But why was the file titled 'greed.mov'? "I can't wake up without you, Dad." The voice was not coming from the phone. I nearly screamed at the sight of Cece's broken, bloody form. Jamie put his arm around Cece, patting her shoulder. "Don't worry, she's still in a coma." The creepy, undead version of my daughter leaned her head on Jamie's shoulder. She turned just enough to look at me with her dark, innocent, eyes. "When you rocked me to sleep, you would tell me stories. I think you assumed I couldn't hear you or what I wasn't paying attention." "You couldn't even talk." For the first two years, I was so nervous about being a father, that I would unload all of my horrific stories on to Cece like a verbal diary. she didn't speak a word until she started preschool at age three and even then, I never heard anything from her teachers about my stories. "Knowing so much about your past is why I always had such respect for you." Cece took a step forward, reaching out her hand. "I know what you saw, what you experienced. It made you the person you are." When she came closer, her hand hit a glowing wall of energy. She nodded her head knowingly. We weren't in the same space. "Jamie said you're going to make your way back to me." I knew our time was short so I had only one question to ask. "Why greed?" "You told me I was your treasure; I was everything you ever wanted." "I'm so sorry." "That wasn't meant as an attack. Not at you, not ever." Cece moved closer. She was able to sit on the bed, her hand caressing the fabric. Her moves were careful and deliberate. I would have given anything to be able to touch her hand. I knew in my heart this wasn't an illusion, this was my daughter. Cece pursed her lips and continued, "There's an old saying, 'Shoot for the moon, even if you fail, you'll be among the stars.' Well, what happens when you reach the moon but it's not the finish line that you thought it would be. You always want more, I did anyway. that's why I let Jason go as far as he did. I thought I could have it all; I'd go to college and have a hot, long-distance boyfriend. maybe we'd meet up in Europe where I would audition for a ballet company. At least that's what I thought." Cece wiped tears from her eyes. "He was dating me as a practical joke. I was the nerdy-science geek who was also a dancer. The rumor was that I clearly wanted to be fucked, but my stern military daddy was keeping me inline." She paused for a moment, looking into my eyes. "I guess he was half right. I knew Jason's plan was to make me choose between you and him. And what's really messed up is, I would have chosen him. I was greedy." Cece took a few steps back, her form already starting to fade. "I miss you so much, Dad. Please come find me." Leo cracked his knuckles. "Well, this was fun but we have miles to go before we sleep. So-" He turned to Jamie. “Yeah, I know.” Jamie nodded, with a sigh, as Cece vanished. Next, Leo turned to me, with hesitation. "This next part is going to hurt." "More than seeing my dying daughter?" Leo clicked his tongue as he moved to Jamie's side. "Adam, how much do you remember about your trip from Oklahoma to Louisiana?" "Do I remember who shot me and left me for dead int he Louisiana swamplands?" I clearly did not. "Do you want to know?" Leo asked, twirling a lock of his rainbow hair. "I mean I'm supposed to show you, orders from the big boss," he said, motioning towards heaven. "But I think it would be a little cruel." Jamie's eyes lit up. "Can we just give him a summery? He'll feel just as shitty but we won't have to watch it!" Leo pursed his lips, clearly trying to hide laughter. "Jamie..." Leo took a breath to calm down. "None the less you are correct. But to stay in line with the," he made the pointing gesture again, "I'll give him just enough to dwell on during our hike back to civilization." Jamie leaned against a wall as Leo stepped towards me. He crawled into bed, positioning himself on top of me like a snake. His long hair trickled against my face. "You good, Adam?" "As good as I can be." "I'll make this quick." Leo closed his eyes. I did the same. The images flashed before my eyes like the world’s worst vacation slideshow. Oh, God. More sex, drugs, a few suicide attempts. Luckily it would only last three weeks. I apparently went on the mother of all drug binges. I didn't want to go home, and I knew why. My daughter was sick, but my wife… my beautiful, kind, wife, Marni-Lynn was a fucking whore who’d torn my heart out a long time ago. next: https://www.reddit.com/BarryPeppecomments/ev0ow9/trials_of_adam_ch3_4/ |
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