Chase Hatter's Origin of Pangaea

Chapter Twenty Two

All it takes to have an epiphany, or something very much like it, is a subject of interest and the ticking of a clock in a silent room. Mr. Waylon Brose had both.

When Waylon Brose first purchased California from President Shore, he thought it would be the end of his involvement with the United States forever. He had claimed one of the most important pieces of land associated with the great country and it seemed as if there was no need for him to ever interact with them ever again. But, a year ago, President Shore came to him with a proposal.

If Waylon Brose could kill Axel DeWitt and Jack Richards, then he would be awarded Washington and Oregon.

President Shore had lost control.

It seemed simple then, so many people had died already so what were two more lives? In hindsight, he should have been more skeptical. Four years of war and a request from the president of a country should have been enough to scare him away, but the promise of acquiring new land was too tempting.

Waylon searched his compound for the most skilled assassins under his employ and sent them on their way to kill some of the most notorious men in United States history. He lured DeWitt and Richards out of hiding and directed his team of killers straight to them. But everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong.

Waylon sat alone in his office, staring at a silent radio and listening to the ticking clock on the wall behind him. Just hours ago, he had been burdened with radio silence as the team he sent out suddenly stopped responding. Something had gone wrong, but what? Did they kill Axel and Jack? Did they kill themselves while doing it? Or did they fail?

He considered sending down a team to confirm the success of the mission, but did he want to know if he failed? Did he want to spend what could potentially be his final hours of life worrying about how long it would take for the infamous Jack Richards to skin him alive like he did to Sharon Cassidy? No. He'd rather spend his time wondering because knowing that he'd failed would make his final moments... devastating.

The silence brought him a short-lived peace. For a while, only the sound of his soldiers pacing up and down the hallway met his ears. He knew his time had come when the steps of his soldiers turned to running and gunfire screamed out. Then he heard it. Those old show tunes he'd heard over the radio when Axel made contact.

Here they were.

Axel skipped down the hall behind his soldier as Jack Richards fell into algorithmic movement. Shoot, reload, move, repeat. This was the algorithm he had his soldiers follow when they were in battle. It would keep them focused in the face of danger. On the other side of the building, Cole followed the algorithm that his commander had taught him as Carl followed patiently behind him.

Waylon listened to the song that Axel sang, realizing that it would be the last song he'd ever hear.

A final shot rang out and the silence returned. His office door opened and in came Axel DeWitt, smiling brightly at him. He stepped into the room and sat in the chair on the other side of Waylon's desk.

"Hello Waylon, how are you?"

Waylon was at a loss for words, but Axel waited patiently for his response. "I-I'm fine..."

"That's good to hear. Now, Waylon, I'm very sorry to get straight to business like this, but it has come to my attention that you are not the friend that I once thought you to be. You are a traitor. I believe that you were hired to kill Jack and I in exchange for some prize. I believe it must have been an excellent reward. And instead of planning things carefully to ensure a complete job, you sent a team of sloppy assassins to carry out your hit. I want you to know that you were very close to having us executed. And it would have been poetic to have my blood soak into the soil that I once played Frisbee on. But you failed. So, Jack and I have discussed it and we believe we have come up with an agreement that everyone will like. You will sign our treaty and in exchange, Jack promises that he will not kill you, but you will die. Understand?"

As Axel made his proposal, Waylon heard the door creep open. In came the infamous Jack Richards. Jack's cold stare frightened him and in response, Waylon turned to Axel to plea for his life.

"You don't have to kill me." Waylon insisted. "I'll sign it for you, no questions asked. You can have Maine! I don't care anymore. Just, please, don't kill me." Axel smiled brightly.

"It doesn't work that way, I'm afraid." Axel explained. "I'm not in charge of who lives and who dies. I never have been. Now, I welcome you to speak to Jack. He's right here."

"It's just a piece of land." Waylon told them. "It's a cold little slice of this shit country that you could have just had! You didn't have to kill anyone! Sharon Cassidy didn't have to die! No one had to die!"

Axel cocked a brow. His bright smile faded into a curious look. Waylon was stunned silent. Axel spoke up.

"Mr. Brose, I believe that you of all the people involved in this crusade would benefit from hearing about the origin of Pangaea. Now, you should know, I don't go around offering that opportunity to everyone. In fact, I have yet to see a reason why the origin of Pangaea was relevant until this moment. You should feel honored."

Waylon sat and stared patiently at Axel, waiting for him to begin his tale, but that time never came. It seemed as though he didn't intend to tell a story.

"Well," Waylon began, "are you going to tell me about your 'idea' or not?"

"It wasn't his idea." Jack said. "It was mine."