As she closed in she heard the wounded man laughing. She wondered if this city drove everyone mad eventually. He proclaimed, “I did it. I hurt them where it counts. I fought the power at the top of Citadel with truth and justice. I’m a hero!”
Betty knelt at his side and asked gently. “What are you talking about?”
“I stole their car. Ha ha, but I wasn’t quick enough to get away unscathed.” He looked at his bloodied arm.
“Why did you steal the car?” She asked.
“Ha ha. Because I’m a spy, sort of.” He responded proudly.
“You’re a traitor?” She asked.
“No, you’ve got it all backwards. I’m the good guy. This car was built for the wrong side. It was constructed for the enemies of the free world.”
“But we’re in America.” Betty corrected confused.
“I know. This car is a magnificent weapon. I stole it from an unscrupulous war profiteer named Oslo Herning.”
A chill ran through her. She knew the name. He was a client of hers and one of the Silver Spoon Circle. She spent many nights with him at Razzles.
“I, I don’t understand.” She stammered. “Oslo is a fascist?”
“There are war profiteers here in Citadel. They act against the best interests of the free world because they are motivated only by greed, not right and wrong. Their only concern is personal gain. There is a lot of money at stake if we all go to war. Some see it as a doorway to make big bucks. Unfortunately companies, and investors are anxious to profit from the death and destruction of others, including their own countrymen. They see it as an opportunity. They sell weapons and munitions to the highest bidders. In some cases they double deal and sell to both sides, bullets for one side and then the armor to the other. If that’s not evil I don't know what is.”
“They want others to die to assure the growth of their bank accounts. They have no principles. They are monsters. Someone had to make them accountable.”
His words rang as true to her as any others she ever heard or thought. As he spoke Betty pieced together past conversations she witnessed between Silver Spoons. It supported the spy’s claim. She knew they were monster too, but she didn’t know they went this far.
“Once I saw the truth, I couldn’t hide from it. I had to stop them.” He coughed out the words with a mouth full of blood.
“We have to get you to a hospital now. You've got to continue your fight. What you’re doing is too important to stop.”
"No. My part is done. It’s cost me more than I imagined getting this far. I'm tired. I’ve lost so much. If I live, I will never have peace again.”
He looked deeply into her eyes for a moment. Then said. “If you really want to help. Don’t let them have their car back.”
He took another strained breath and held it to trap a massive sob in his chest. “Please don’t let me die here in Citadel.”
Tears swelled in Betty McDougal’s sober eyes. She understood the sentiment exactly. The stranger was so weak and vulnerable. He had a rugged face like her father. He saw the black and white things in life, like her dad. The spy knew the difference between right and wrong. The Citadel wouldn’t stand for it, so they punished him for challenging them. She had to help him.
“I promise I will grant your wish. I know a better place where we both can go.”
She drove the big, black car out of the city. As they traveled he slipped in and out of consciousness. "I hope that you’re a good person. I hope you are a moral creature."
She cried privately at his words.
"Don’t let the car fall back into the wrong hands. It doesn't have to be used for evil. It’s amoral. It’s just a tool. It could be used for good.”
In less than an hour she was back at the McDougal farm. Somewhere along the route the spy’s heart stopped. She made a real connection in the last moments of the stranger’s life. As suddenly as he came to her, he was gone. She was alone again.
She pulled up the dirt driveway. She saw that brush had grown high and wild but everything else was just like they left it so long ago. She stepped from the car. The night air was fresh. The forgotten sound of crickets played a familiar tune. She was home… She was really home.
To her this was sacred ground. So she buried the mysterious hero in it.
As the young nurse dug his grave by the light of the full moon, a calm washed over her. She thought about the day she had. All the events coalesced to create this unique moment. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Maybe it was a sign. It felt like a higher purpose was bestowed upon her that night. It felt like a reward for all her hard work. It felt like destiny.
The villains in Citadel had too much power. It was unfair. Their wealth gave them an advantage they used to abuse others. They destroyed people for sport and got away with it.