the fallen leader-part 2

the fallen leader-part 2

fiction
edward w pritchard

see part 1

scratched his calf muscle, and drifted off to sleep. His last thought was he would not be rich in America, like he had been at home, but he would be comfortable. He wouldn't have to work, he now had several hundred thousand dollars in an American bank account. Maybe he would write a book, or just sit at a swimming pool and drink, early retirement American style.

Surprisingly, Thu was the only person of his party on this plane. Or, maybe not surprising for America was a big place, and there were hundreds of flights daily. The US state department would mix up the flights so his companions would dissolve and the network Thu had developed in twenty five years together in politics would disappear.

There were lines when he landed and Thu learned he was to be given a brief physical by US customs at the New York airport. After that he would transfer to a flight to Ohio. Thu didn't find his contact and decided to resign himself that he was no longer priviledged so to speak.

Two hours later a much red faced and agitated Thu took a few brief breaths and tried to think calmly. He was on a plane back to his County non-stop and as soon as he landed he would be unceremoniously killed. He had been recognized when he boarded this plane home.

The Americans were so inefficient. There had been no-one to help when the bored Doctor at the airport had found on him a minor skin disease, impatago, on the left calf of his leg. He was refused permission to enter the US airport.

Thu had called his contact in America but got his answering machine twice before he was put on another plane home by American homeland security. He was going back to his homeland and his death. Thu who was analytical tried to decide if his contact had sold him out. The money in the American Bank would be tempting.

Thu did not believe in metaphysical explanations. He didn't contemplate if Karma or chance had intervened in his life. He was more inclined to think the Americans were just bumblers.