Fiction Tonight, but Tomorrow, ??

With the decision by our government to go to cyber war with Russia, escalation is more than likely. This novella is fiction, but...

Do Over
By
A. G. Kimbrough

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

The old man opened his eyes in the dimly lit room. The brightest thing he could see was the bank of monitors showing all his vital signs. The morphine had worn off, and the pain had returned. He didn't want to trigger another round of insensibility just yet. The battle with the cancer had been long and painful, and his prayers for relief had gone un-answered.

He had served God without hesitation ever since the camp meeting when he was ten years old. Never looking back, always faithful, through divinity school, and all those years teaching, preaching, and looking after his flock of believers.

Bishop Thomas noticed his eyes open, and said, “Do you want me to trigger the morphine again?"

“No, Hell no. I need my wits about me. Please leave, I need to do some serious thinking.”

The younger man stood, and asked, “Are you sure you don't want me to pray with you?”

“What for? It hasn't done any good for the last two years, or for that matter, ever. Now get the hell out of here and don't come back!”

The room was quiet for a long time, as the old man considered his loss of faith. He realized that he had spent a lifetime in a fruitless scam.” Tears sprang from his eyes and he lay there hoping to die.”

Later, he noticed a faint blue light from one side of the room, and an indistinct figure standing beside him.

“Who is there, I said I wanted no visitors, now get out!”

“I think you will want to hear what I have to say.” he felt, rather than heard.

The visitor sat down on the edge of the bed, but there was no feeling of weight. “You want this to be over, don't you?”

He drew in a breath and replied, “More than anything. If I have to go to hell for loosing my faith, So be it.”

“You don't have that option, but there is an option other than ending it all.”

“If it stops the agony, then tell me more.”

The visitor replied. “I can give you the opportunity to live your life, over again, but there are some strings attached. You must agree to assassinate three people during your second life. We did not create humanity and this world to have it destroyed in a nuclear holocaust, That's what will happen soon unless we take this action. The simulations we have run indicate that you will be successful and live a long and productive second life.”

The old man looked incredulous, and said, “Are you saying I'll be re-born?”

“Yes, you will be born as the same person you are now, except you will retain your present memories.”

“I'll be born on July 10th,1944 to the same parents?”

“That's correct. You will have the chance to live your life again, as you see fit, and taking advantage of future events that you will remember. All you have to do is agree to kill these three people.”

“The old man reflected for a moment, and said, “My killing these three people will prevent the nuclear holocaust?”

“We can't guarantee it, but that's what our projections indicate.”

“I can't say I ever thought of committing murder, but it sounds like it will be justified. I guess the ten commandments don't apply, anyway. I'm in. What do I have to do to get started.”

An hour later, the monitor alarms went off and the old man died with a smile on his face.

Chapter 1 A New Beginning

My first new memories were of darkness, then pain, and then a loving touch. I knew that I could not show my retained memories and was content to grow and explore my new body.

At my Christening I enjoyed making one hell of a fuss, to embarrass my dominating Father. Reverend Dixon was a prominent radio Preacher, and in my first life, I had faithfully attempted to follow in his footsteps. In my new life, I didn't hate him, but I wasn't going to let the pompous bastard control me.

As I grew, I had to be careful not to show my actual capabilities, but I did use them to usually get my way. When I started school, it was the same story, to avoid being classified as “gifted”.

I was absolutely ruthless in dealing with the bullies, and quickly gained a reputation among my classmates as someone who would do anything if attacked, even by bigger and stronger kids. In Junior High, I put an upper-class guy in the hospital when he and his buddies attempted to de-pants me. I hit him in the head with my lunch pail and gave him a very bloody concussion.

I was forced to go to the camp meeting, where in my first life I gave my life to Jesus. The sermons were just as touching, but my heart was hard. On the last night, I went down to the altar and went through the motions, to ease the unrelenting pressure from my father.

Although he continued to push me, I always insisted that I felt no calling, and concentrated on math and science classes. In my first life, I had been a good baseball player and used that baseball scholarship to pay for most of the divinity school expenses. This time, I didn't go out for sports and was able to win an Engineering Scholarship to MIT, where I majored in Computer Science.

In high School, I didn't waste much time chasing girls, but managed to accommodate my raging hormones by focusing my attention on girls I remembered as being “easy”. I did always keep a couple of condoms in my wallet. There was no way I was going to risk fatherhood.

I had part-time jobs in both high school and college and only spent my money on what I considered necessities. After finishing at the top of my class, I declined a scholarship to get my PHD and accepted an offer from IBM to work on the 360 System development team.

Over the next five years, I made several hardware and software breakthroughs on the 360 program and was rewarded with a great salary and generous stock options. I was spending most of my time working and lived modestly during that period, and put all my spare cash into market investments that I knew would net maximum leverage during this period.

In my first life, I married a local girl a year after finishing school. My Father insisted it would be good for a young Assistant Pastor to be married. This time around, although I would occasionally pick up girls to haul my ashes, I wasn't looking for a serious relationship, or the responsibilities it would entail.

Chapter 2 Planting the Seeds for the Mission

By 1975 my investments were now in the seven figures and I left IBM. My parents urged me to move from New York to Austin and live near them. I loved them, but there was no way I would consider living near them. I also had a mission to prepare for.

I moved to Little Rock a month after leaving IBM, where I had a lot of friends, but no close relationships. I rented a downtown luxury apartment, and operated Adaptive Investments, Inc. (A.I.I.), from one of the two master bedrooms.

I had joined the Young Democrats in college and reconnected with a local guy who had also been a member. His Father was a City Council member, and I could move in the state Democratic party functions. I made a few donations, including his father, and made more friends. I also dropped a few investment tips that resulted in large short term gains for the individuals I tipped.

I allowed his father to steer me to an industrial park in his district where I opened an A.I.I. computer center that employed several local computer science graduates. I used the computers for research and landed several city and state government contracts, which kept my people profitably employed. I made donations to the right individuals to insure that most contracts were of the directed procurement variety.

In 1975, I met Cill Benton at a charity function, and donated to his campaign for Attorney General. We were about the same age, and I took a hot date named Linda to his election night party. The date was a high-end professional, and she was well paid by me to make a big impression on Cill. He “accidentally" brushed her ample breasts, and she managed to slip him her number. I offered to pay her $1000 any time she was able to fuck him. Cill knew I set it up and it made him a friend for life.

In March of 1976, I was in the audience at the Altair Computer Convention in Albuquerque, New Mexico when Gill Bates gave a speech on computer piracy. I made it a point to meet him and offered to provide a modest amount of seed capital, any time he needed it. I stressed that I beloved strongly in the future of software for microcomputers and planned to be one of it's champions.

Before the end of 1977, I had advanced a total of $30 K in seed capital to Bates.

Cill Benton continued to periodically use the “services” of Linda, as his quest for higher office continued. I developed a database of his many visits to female friends, as we remained friends, and occasionally played golf together. He was always quick to brag about his many conquests and often mentioned the times and places.

It was a hot night in the summer of 1978 when I made my move. Cill was frequently visiting a black prostitute in North Little Rock on Thursday afternoons. I had carefully scouted the location from an abandoned house across the street. I arrived before noon on a moped, with a Pelican case across the handlebars. Inside was a broken down rifle with a silencer.

Cill arrived, driving his official car, a new Chevy Nova. As he walked to the door, I shot him in the head, and then again in the body an additional three times. I returned the rifle to the case and left through the back yard.

I rode the moped to a parking garage, put it in the back of a pickup. I drove it to a barn North of town, and after midnight, dropped the moped and the rifle parts in the river.

The story was on the front pages the next morning. The assumption was that Benton was killed by drug dealers, who mistook him for a cop.

I had been seen by no one that I knew of, and left no clues to my involvement. With the first of my missions completed, I was ready to move on.

Chapter 3 Silicon Valley

Shortly after completing the first mission, I moved to San Francisco. I left the A.I.I. computer center in Little Rock, but moved the Corporate headquarters to a hi rise office on Market Street. I started making modest seed capital investments in tech companies that I knew would be exploding. I was able many times to exert pressure, because of my investment, to push those companies in a direction that would help those companies flourish. I was a factor in helping Apple cut a deal with Microsoft for what became AppleBasic.
By 1980, I used my relationship with Bates (and my investment position), and high level contacts at IBM, to kick start the contact between the IBM PC development group and Microsoft.
In December of that year, I cashed out some investments that had already achieved there maximum gains, and opened an account with the Quantum Fund. I made it a point to meet Sorge Goros during the negotiations prior to making the $80,000,000 investment. My impression of Goros was, that he was a shark, and absolutely ruthless.
I had hired one of the top private investigation companies in New York to do a deep investigation of Goros before my investment. That report was justified completely as due diligence prior to my investment. It also contained enough information I needed to plan my next mission.
I started making seed capital investments in the Chicago area, as well as modest political donations to black political leaders. I made a couple of trips there, each year, that combined business meetings and political events.
I was careful to always maintain a low public profile, and to avoid private entanglements. I had a few girlfriends on tap that were more than willing to join me any time I called.
In 1981 I purchased a lakefront cabin on a lake in New York state. The investigator's report showed that Goros spent a week every summer at a resort on the same lake. That summer, I confirmed that he would take an hour's solitary cruise around the lake every morning he was there. One night, I checked out the boathouse where his classic speedboat was stored. The boathouse had a roll-up steel door, and I used scuba gear go under it and to examine the boat.
I returned to San Francisco and started preparing for the next mission. I needed to remotely trigger an explosive package, that would never be traceable. I picked up the C-4 and the necessary electronics on a vacation trip to Europe. I had purchased a used Learjet, which had several concealed compartments.
Chapter 4 Second Mission

I arrived at my lake cottage on the last day of June 1981. I addition to the bomb components, I brought an electric outboard motor for my canoe. At midnight on the day before Goros arrived, I took the canoe across the lake, and then swam under the roll-up door of the boathouse. I climbed into the boat and placed the bomb between the transom and the built in fuel tank.

I was waiting in my living room, watching through my telescope when Goros left the boathouse. As he reached the deepest part of the lake, I depressed the button on the transmitter. The fireball flew up over 200 feet in the air, and when the smoke and flames subsided, there was nothing to be seen of the boat or it's passenger.

I ran out to my dock and played the part of an innocent bystander. The canoe was back on it's rack in the garage. One of my girlfriends joined me the next day, and we spent the next week enjoying the lake. I sent flowers and a condolence message to the Quantum Fund, and did not withdraw my investment there, in spite of the fund loosing 25% after news of Goros hit the headlines.

Rapidly, the story developed that a gasoline leak, due to tank corrosion, in the 1930's boat, must have caused the explosion and the death of the financier, Sorge Goros.
I returned to San Francisco without fanfare and had no comment the following month when asked by a reporter about the Goros accident.

Over the next ten years, I continued to make investments in a wide range of ventures that were destined to experience rapid growth. I spread my donations to Democratic politics widely though never large enough to be considered a power broker. By the end of 1990, my net worth was over one Billion, and I passed that milestone without fanfare.

In late 1987, I made a $60K investment in Ariel Capital Management, a black-owned investment fund based in Chicago. It's founder, Ron W. Bolgers, was active, and a power broker, in local black politics. I funneled several donations through him.

When Orris Borama ran the Project Vote black registration project, from April to October 1992, Bolgers became an active supporter, and I was a silent one.

During that same period, I joined Bolgers in lobbying the University of Chicago Law School to hire Borama as a Law Professor.

I hired a black investigation firm to research Borama, prior to my future potential support. Again, the report gave me several tidbits that would be useful in completion of my final mission.
Chapter 5 The Final Mission

I reviewed and discarded several plans to take out Borama. I had his class schedule at the university. He would usually leave home, and drive to the University an hour before his class was due to start. I concluded the best option would be to ride a fast bike alongside him on the freeway approach, make the hit, and loose any pursuit in the city.

I flew into Chicago, took a taxi to a used car lot, and paid cash for a year old Ford pickup with a tall camper shell on the bed. I drove to the safe house I had rented for a year with cash, got the key out of the mailbox, parked the truck in the garage. I took a taxi back to a hotel in downtown Chicago. That night I had dinner with Bolgers and we discussed local and state politics as well as investment strategies. I returned to the West Coast the following day.

I tried several road bikes at different bike shops scattered around the country. I finally bought a used Yamaha 500cc dirt/road bike in Evansville, Indiana. I rode it to the safe house in suburban Gary. I spent the weekend riding the bike on a dirt track South of Gary, until I was confident enough to use it on my getaway. I had sent the Learjet to a remote airstrip in Idaho where I was supposed to be on a quick fishing and camping trip. The two crewmen had been sworn to secrecy, and paid a cash fee that would let them retire in comfort. They would meet me at the Midway Airport when I called their sat-phone.

Borama had a class scheduled for 2:00 PM on Monday, and I left the safe house at noon.

I was waiting as he pulled out of his neighborhood and followed him toward the freeway. I pulled right up behind him as he approached the on-ramp. I pulled up beside him at the ramp entrance and opened my jacket to expose the Mac-10.

I had it on a sling, so I could aim and fire using my left hand. I pulled the trigger and emptied the magazine into the side window and windshield. The car swing to the right hit the guardrail and started rolling as I accelerated away. I entered the freeway at 70 and left it on the next off-ramp.

The was no sign of pursuit as I wound through city streets heading Southeast. I pulled into an alley behind a warehouse and stopped at a dumpster. I threw the Mac-10, the black full-face helmet, and my black jacket into it, and kept heading toward the safe house.

I arrived just before five, loaded the bike up the ramp into the truck, called the guys in Idaho, and napped until it was dark. After a last pass around the house to insure I had left nothing, I closed up, and drove to downtown Gary. I stopped in an alley behind a public housing complex, and unloaded the bike. A couple of young men watched me unload it, and approached me.

I turned toward them and said, “Help yourselves, the key's in it. The asshole I stole it from was makin a move on my lady.”

I returned to the truck and drove to Midway Airport. I parked the truck in long term parking, left the keys and the unsigned purshase paperwork on the seat and caught the shuttle over to the FBO terminal. My guys were waiting in a rental, and we drove downtown.

That night I was scheduled to have dinner with Bolgers, but he left a message on my cell canceling. I called him back, and played ignorant, saying I had just got off my plane and had not heard any news. He was distraught, and said that he and his people had been grooming Borama for a long time. Borama was going to be the first black President. I listened patiently and told him we would get together the next time I was back in Chicago.

I joined my flight crew for a steak, showered, and went to bed, without watching the news.

I did watch it the next morning while I enjoyed a room service breakfast. The media story was that Borama must have been killed by drug dealers, who mistook him for a rival. The black community was in mourning at the tragic loss of such a promising young black politician.

After breakfast, I returned to California. At the SFO, I signed the papers giving joint ownership of the Learjet to my flight crew and wished them good luck in their new lives in South America. I also sent the message that transferred $2,000,000 from one of my offshore accounts to each of theirs. They promised to be gone before sundown.

In one of the un-pressurized secret compartments of the Learjet, a countdown timer was enabled by a text message from my phone. It would start counting when the plane reached cruising altitude and activate the explosives four hours later. If everything went according to plan, the debris would fall into the Pacific.

Back at home, I reflected on my second life. My missions had required me to kill three men, and I had killed two more, to cover my tracks. I felt no guilt about the murders. The first three, because of what they would become, and the last two because they had been willing accomplices in an assignation plot.

I lay awake most of that night, thinking about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I had thrown some major road blocks in front of the forces trying to gain domination over my country, but I knew they would never give up.

Chapter 6 Building Resources

I had avoided the Internet crash by cashing out at the peak, and the buying the survivors that would return maximum gain when they were at the bottom. I was not sure how I had retained so much market knowledge from my first life since I hadn't followed the market then. I must have had some kind of help in that respect.

I gave Bolgers an access path to some insider information and told him I was planning to go all in on the medical device company. As I expected, he put all his fund resources into it.

When the FDA scandal broke two months later, the company had to file bankruptcy, and he was indited, and convicted of insider trading. His political king-making days were over. I also stopped supporting Democratic politicians.

By the end of 1993, my recorded net worth put me into the Forbes Top 100 list. As word got around, I could no longer avoid the public exposure. I met Torrance Lisch at a New York charity event to support the World Wildlife Conservation Society.

We crossed paths several times over the next year as I made it a point to support those charities favored by him. During 1994 I cashed out 89% of my investments and approached him with a cash offer to buy controlling interest in CBS for three Cillion dollars. The offer would expire on December 31st, and they accepted it on December 30th.

His cost cutting had left a lean organization, ready to grow and become profitable. I started steering the recruitment of what would become key talent and shifting the environment from liberal to a more constitutional conservative bent. The changes were working by 1995, and CBS was no longer an also-ran, but a challenger for the lead in all rating areas.

Chapter 7 Seeds of Change

In March of 1996, I replaced Torrance Lisch as Chairman of CBS, on his retirement. I had recruited a group of brilliant young conservatives who were not contaminated by Ivy League schooling. I put them to work developing a plan to take our Republic back from the power brokers that controlled our political system.

The group developed a data base of individuals and organizations that were in opposition to the power brokers control of our government.

I sent a personal letter to the top 100 people on that data base. It invited each of them to a secret conference I would host on July Fourth, the 200th anniversary of our Republic. The title of the conference agenda was “Taking Our Republic Back”.

All of those invited came and actively participated. The foundation to our war of independence was developed, and everyone left with a commitment to uprooting the power brokers tentacles, and their willing politicians and bureaucrat accomplices. One key point recognized by everyone, was the absolute necessity to create a new political organization that is committed to always putting the American Citizens ahead of corporate or bureaucratic interests.

The Americans First Party was launched on August first, with major traditional and non-traditional media advertising that I funded, and universal support from conservative radio and internet sources. There were many surprising successes in the fall elections of write-in candidates, including three new members of congress.

With a large, aggressive, CBS investigative team on the hunt, and tip rewards I funded, the corruption from the local levels to the highest offices was exposed and highlighted. The 1998 congressional elections resulted in the Americans First Party holding 26% of the house and seven Senate seats. However the greatest effect was the gain of the legislator control in 37 states.

CBS suffered a backlash from many corporate advertisers, who left in protest, but the ratings went up and new advertisers appeared.

In June of 1999 those 37 states forced a Constitutional Convention to consider the following actions:

Term Limits and mandatory retirement ages for congress and Federal Court Judges,
Elimination of all retirement and other special benefits and provisions for Congress,
Only American Citizens shall receive any kind US Government support,
Elimination of any action that places corporate rights and benefits over American Citizens,
Placing a mandatory Sunset Provision on all laws and regulations which will require majority vote houses to extend,
Forcing all Federal Employee wages and benefits into compliance with their civilian counterparts.

The debates continued all summer, and by September first they were all ratified. Their provisions started taking place immediately, with hundreds of corporation sponsored laws and loopholes being challenged in court. Subsidies, Tax Breaks, and Competitive Barriers were all fair game.

Ex congressmen found they had to get by on the same Social Security retirement benefits as their former constituents, and there were little or no calls for their lobbying assistance. A lot of plush office suites on K Street were vacated.

Chapter 8 Republic Renewed

The 1990 elections were when the first mandatory retirements would take place, and the effects were monumental. Over half, the congress would have to be replaced, and a wave of citizen statesmen stepped up to serve their nation. The Americans First Party swept into control of both houses and the Presidency.

The world had watched as this transition developed with disdain and predictions of an American disaster. By the summer of 1992, bloated and corrupt countries around the world were seeing evidence of a similar movement developing internally.

A young Senator from California introduced landmark Profit Sharing legislation that changed forever, the employer/employee relationship. It offered a 50% net tax benefit to any companies that split their profits between their shareholders and their active employees. The same Bill eliminated management bonus and profit sharing programs, or any other compensation beyond salary.

The same legislative session produced a group of Bills that placed severe tax penalties on companies exporting jobs and attempting to avoid US taxes by moving operations offshore. Those same penalties were applied to non-US companies attempting to sell products in the US, at below cost prices.

These actions hit companies like Walmart and Target hard, and the prices on many things increased. The US economy faltered on the edge of recession for the next year, but US companies started hiring, and productivity started increasing. US workers could see a direct relationship between the success of their company, and their personal financial success. The confrontational relationship between the workers and the company fell apart.

The higher prices on “stuff” did make an impression on an increasing segment of the American public. A large portion of them stopped buying new “stuff” and learned to “make do” with last year's smart phone, wide screen TV, and car. These people shifted focus to quality of life issues, including supporting the Americans First programs.

The radically changed business climate resulted in a boom of new small businesses that used technology and high productivity, committed employees to recapture product markets formally dominated by imports. Made in America by Americans became fashionable, and more affordable. While the export markets for American products were diminished, these new American companies were structured to not overproduce beyond the needs of the American markets. Quality and reliability became priorities, rather than product obsolesce and failure after the warranty expired.

The flood of illegal aliens was addressed with strong border controls, and a severe crackdown on their employment, with heavy fines, and bounties for whistle blowers.

The new direction for American foreign policy included the following:
A cancellation of America's role as the world's policeman.
A demand that our allies, like NATO, pay for their own defense.
A turnover of 90% of our overseas bases.
A restructuring of the US military, to reflect a primarily defensive roll.
A 90% reduction in foreign aid.
An abandonment of any attempts to exert control over the Middle East oil supplies.
A commitment to develop American Energy Independence.

Chapter 9 Last Call

In 1997, I sold all of my investments that had reached the point of greatest gain. I started developing Business Spawning Centers in Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, and Memphis, by raising blocks of abandoned buildings and replacing them with blocks of Spawning Centers. Prospective clients could develop business plans in the Spawning Center under the guidance of the service center staff. When their plan was ready, it would be evaluated by a board made up of local, successful, business leaders. If it was deemed viable, startup capital and facilities would be supplied by the Spawning Center. If there were problems with the business plan, it would be sent back to the drawing board.

The startups could stay in the Spawning Center facilities for two years. At that point, they must be self-sustaining and move out into the community.

I established a foundation for each of the Spawning Centers and funded each of them with $25 million. The Spawning Center business model would fund each venture, and own 51% of it's common stock. When the venture was ready to move, the foundation would aid an IPO, or a sale, and relinquish majority control. Sometimes, the founders and employees would do a buyout, and keep total ownership between them.

The proceeds from the sales would recharge the fund and be used to finance future ventures.

By 2015 I had cashed out of all my investments and funded a total of 29 Spawning Centers in high unemployment areas around the country. I sold my San Francisco penthouse and bought an ocean cruising sailboat. It had all the whistles and bells for single-handed sailing, and I took it out, under the Golden Gate, and followed the sun.
On the morning of the anniversary of my first life's end, I woke to the feeling of a presence in the cabin. A familiar figure, outlined in a blue glow, was standing at the end of my bed. I sat up and said, “I was expecting to see you. It's time to end it now, isn't it?”
“Yes, you have saved most of mankind, and started things going in the right direction. It's time for you to move on, but it doesn't have to be the end.”
“That's a surprise. What are my options, I don't want to be re-born, so what else is an option, other than the end?”
The figure moved closer, and said, “The other option is to go with me to the other side.”
“It sounds interesting, I'm Okay with that option.”
Two months later a Japanese fisherman salvaged an abandoned 60 foot, luxury, cruising sailboat. It was drifting 20 miles East of Osaka.

Author Notes:
Thanks for reading this book. I will be pleased to receive your feedback and any comments you may have at:
mailto:agkatfri@gmail
Author's Bio
A.G. Kimbrough is a man with a wide range of life experiences. He grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in a small New Mexico town, and joined the Navy as soon as he turned 17. As a young man, he worked in the electronics side of the defense industry. Later, he spent over 30 years as an engineer, exec, and CEO in the welding automation industry. After a medical wake-up call, he retired to an island on the Carolina coast and ran a fishing charter business for a few years.
An insatiable reader since boyhood, he started writing for his own pleasure when bits of time were available. After retiring for the fourth time in 2012, he embarked on a writing and publishing adventure that is still ongoing.
Other Books by A.G. Kimbrough

All of A.G. Kimbrough's works are available as Kindle eBooks on Amazon. You can see them at:

https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B008J28CME

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