“The man I had in government—the man who made it possible for me to escort all of you out of the country had disappeared. He had an exit visa and a plane was ready to take him and his wife to New America. What I only learned a few minutes ago was that he was shot and presumed killed. He was taken to a local hospital and pronounced dead. The government was, or feigned, shock; and a private funeral was held by the family.”
“Oh, my God,” Sandy said. “What is supposed to be the good news?”
“He isn’t dead,” Pamela said. “His wounds were only superficial. The story of his death was concocted to throw his pursuers off the scent. He’s being escorted to Martinville, Idaho. It’s near the border. That’s where we’re going to go. We’ll be meeting with another man who is being persecuted. There’s an attorney who has a plan to get us all out of the country, but it’s going to be expensive.”
“Of course it’s going to be expensive,” Eugene said, sounding frustrated. The rest of the group expressed cynicism.
“We need a hundred thousand dollars.”
There was wide-spread derision from the group. Most were broke. Pamela still had most of the 100,000 given to her, and Chad Armstrong could come up with about ten grand. Foote and Wrenn together could come up with another ten grand, but they were still about ten thousand short counting money for food and gas to get there.
“I have some money,” Jeanne said. “I’ll have to go to the bank.” So did the others. They managed to scrape up the money and had a nice brunch.
Pamela told them some more information. “Most of my money is actually in the New World. It was where I always intended to live. When the government enacted its trade barrier there could be no banking transactions with New America anymore. The money I get from people I escort over the border is mostly used to fund the operation. The little money I have left for myself isn’t much. I’m pretty much going to be out of money after we turn this money over to the lawyer who’s running this little operation.”
“Have you ever had difficulties like this with your other clients?” Ray asked.
“Nothing like this. The task is still difficult, and it’s my friends on both sides of the border that have allowed people to escape persecution here, but now security has been stepped up to the point where it is very difficult to get across. I only agreed to this hundred grand deal because I’m very afraid I can’t get you out. If we’re successful, however, I’ll reimburse you all the money you’ve given me. I have millions in the New World.”
“Well, what is the plan this lawyer has?” Eugene said.
“I don’t know. All I know is that we are to drive to Martinville, and everything will be explained when we get there.”
“When are we supposed to leave?” Armstrong said.
“Now.”
The trip to Martinville was uneventful and only took a few hours, as much of the journey was through neutral territory. Everyone assembled in the Lazy Tourist Inn and began getting to know one another. Problems began, however, when Horace Hayfield introduced himself to Eugene Sulke.
Everyone responded to a fight that broke out by the pool. A table was overturned, a glass was broken, a plant crushed, and two people had to be treated for cuts and bruises. Eugene was still livid. “That man can’t go with us.” He kept shouting while pointing his finger at Horace Hayfield.
The front office was about to call the police, but Chad Armstrong was able to calm the manager down and gave him money to pay for any broken items. The poolside was cleaned up and management was satisfied. Ray and Cassandra escorted Eugene away from the scene of the fracas and demanded an explanation.
Eugene explained who Horace Hayfield was and how he recognized him from the TV commercial that almost caused him to wreck his room so many weeks ago. Cassandra just laughed and Ray made a face.
“Look, Gene,” Ray said, “I understand how you feel.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“Please, Gene, listen to Ray,” Cassandra said.
It took Eugene about fifteen minutes to calm down. “Just keep me away from that son of a bitch.”
“Sure. Count on it,” Ray said as Chad came over.
“Look,” Armstrong said, “I felt the same about those two doctors as well, but we can’t fuck this up. We have to get over the border and we can’t afford for anything to go wrong. Now get a grip, Gene. We’ll keep you two apart the best we can, but when we can’t, just let it go. Okay?”
Gene pouted, but agreed.
Later that day, Nate Phillips came to the motel. He escorted all of them to his office, where they could talk in private. Everyone sat in the large conference room.
“I’m going to fill you in on the plan I have for getting you across the border. We are about eight miles from it right now, and we’ll be walking in difficult conditions for up to two hours, but let me back up and start from the beginning. Let me go through it entirely before asking me any questions. It’s easier this way. When I’m finished, I’ll be happy to take your questions and go over anything you don’t understand.”
Everyone was fine with that, eager to hear the plan.
“About a week or so ago, I met a man named Horace Hayfield. He was trying to find a way across the border when he met a man named Milo Hoopenmiller, who showed him a way to reach it. He charged Hayfield a thousand dollars, then drove with him to the spot where he’d have to get out and walk through a forest until he reached an unmanned fence—a border fence. On the other side was the New World. He was only a foot away when he began to climb the fence. What he didn’t know was that Milo was only setting him up. He was working with authorities who arrested Horace. I got him out.
“Now, I want to introduce another man to you. He is U.S. Senator Everson Moore. Pamela knows him as the insider helping her escort her clients across the border. He disappeared, allegedly dead, but his death was faked. This is him,” pointing to the man at the other end of the table from Phillips. “His wife successfully made it to New America. He’s looking forward to joining her. All of you will shortly be going over that fence to freedom. Now I’ll take your questions.”
“I still don’t know the details of our escape,” Armstrong said.
“Let me just say that we can use Milo to provide assistance, as well as Horace Hayfield, who has already made the attempt. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Can we trust Milo? My plan is to offer him more than he was getting, but staying with him so he can’t tip anyone off.”
Armstrong interrupted. “Why do we even need him? Hayfield knows the way.”
“I can’t remember the way,” Hayfield said. “Milo had me making a lot of turns, and it was dark.”
“Besides, Milo may get wind of another attempt and tip off the authorities,” Phillips said. “We can’t take chances. We need him.”
Armstrong just shook his head and looked frustrated. He looked at his friends, Wrenn and Foote, who expressed similar unease about the plan. Armstrong spoke up. “I don’t like it. It’s been my experience that untrustworthy people stay that way.” He paused and then continued. “Nevertheless, I think it was Machiavelli who said keep your friends close and your enemies closer. We may have no choice but to use Milo, but I can tell you I’ll have my eye on him all the time. That means he escorts us, not to just the jumping off point, but through the trees and right up to that damn fence. I want to keep my eye on him the whole way, and ready to slit that bastard’s throat if the police show up.”
The rest of the group applauded, and Phillips knew this scenario had to be included in his plans.
Three nights later, they were set to go. Armstrong drove in the lead vehicle with Milo handcuffed to the passenger door. It was midnight. Milo gave directions. He took them through twelve turns. The rest of the crew were keeping track of distance, turns, and roadways they took, just in case they would ever need to know. A few had a suspicion that this would not be a good idea.