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Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act I
“Transmissions”

Chapter I
“Leaving This World Behind”

Date: 1220hrs August 5th, 2015

Don Caster & Michael Brook
Onboard a Skylark C-17 Globemaster en route to Papago Airfield, Arizona, USA


Don was woken from his sleep by a painful smack on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly. He jerked from the inside wall of the cargo plane, his right fist balled lightly as he readied himself. With a grimace, he glanced over to see Mike pulling his hand back. The man held a shit-eating grin; fit of a jester.



"Wake up, Donnie,” Mike spoke softly, his lips tight as he held back his amusement. “It's time to get up and get ready for school."


Don groaned loudly, sagging back against the wall beside him. “Fuck off, Mike.” He growled at the man before trying to close his eyes quickly, hoping that his friend would leave him alone.


The man chuckled. “Aww… Does my lil’ soldier need five more minutes?”


“No…” What was the point? Don sighed at the thought. “I need you to stop acting like a douchebag.” He wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep.


Mike leaned away as if offended. “How dare you!”


“Mike. Stop it.”


“That is no way to speak to your mother!” Mike continued.


“I swear to god.” Don stayed perfectly still as he made his threat; using as little energy as possible for this issue. “I will break your fucking face.”


Mike laughed for a moment. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a fuckin bunch just because I woke you up.”


Don just gave up and lifted his hand to rub his face in annoyance.


“We are touchin’ down soon anyway… and besides... I will always be your hot dog, Donny.”


“Dude… I called you ‘Oscar Mayer’ once. One fucking time! That's it!” Don threw a hand up.


“It only takes one time to become a beef frank.”


“Fuck me…” Sometimes Mike’s antics made Don want to shrivel up and die.


“Maybe later… I have a very busy schedule with lots of shit to take care of first.” Mike stated as he looked at his smartphone as if he was swiping through such a schedule.


“What the hell do you have to do?”


“Well let’s see…” Mike hummed. “I have a quota of three women planned for tonight, two bars to get 86’d out of by tomorrow, and then I have to join you with your family for the cliché ‘oh welcome home Baby Boy’ picnic bullshit.” He answered jokingly.


“Our family.”


“Yes, yes… Our family.” Mike said, rolling his eyes.


The two were brothers by all means except blood. Don’s family sort of had ‘unofficially’ adopted Mike when he was just a kid after his mother passed away from a terrible car accident. After none of his deadbeat family came forward to help, the Caster family took over without question; they’d been stuck with each other since.


Don signed before looking out the plane’s window. “Well, I guess you sound mighty busy…” The sandy mountainscape of Arizona slowly drew closer.


“Yeah… I don’t know how I do it… Hell, I wish I could make that my job though…” Mike sighed


“That job already exists…”


“Oh yeah?”


“You’ve heard of porn stars, right?” Don looked back, this time with a grin of his own.


Mike just waved his hand in dismissal.


“Yeah… a porn star.”


“Why not a rock star? I could play guitar or something!”


“No. Please god.”


Mike shot him a look. “Why the hell not?”


“Other than a Barrett not being an instrument?”


“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”


“What it means is…” Don looked forward briefly to see a few other mercs in the plane watching the exchange. The plane shook slightly as it began to bank towards its landing path.
“I am saying you are a talentless fuck.”


Mike frowned. “Yeah, well you’re gay.” He proclaimed, having no further valid argument.


“I am still not as gay as your neck tattoo.” Don chuckled.


“Hey! Don’t you dare.”


“Fit for a prison bitch.” Don smirked.


Conversations like this were common enough between the two; their banter always helped pass the time at least. It was not long until the two of them were walking down the rear ramp of the C17. They had to step out of the way as a pair of vehicles rolled out passed them.
By the time the guys had gotten on the tarmac, there was a team of people already about to load stuff back onto the plane; it was being shipped out immediately it seemed. They gathered the rest of their gear and things once the plane had been unloaded fully. Once they had grabbed their stuff, they tossed everything into the rear of a nearby designated truck.


Don set the last of his bags down when he noticed Mike giving someone else the bird.


“Are you ever not an asshole, Vegas?” The other man questioned. ‘Vegas’ being Mike’s call sign while working.


“Do you ever come to work without shining your boots, princess?” Mike shot back.


“Mike. Leave Rhannie alone.” Don sighed.


“Nah. I gotta do something to distract myself from the heat. It's hot today.”


Don shook his head. “It isn't that hot, man…”


“You can literally see the heat rising from the strip. Look at that shit!” He exclaimed, pointing down the runway.


“It's only 102.”


Mike shot him an almost horrified look. “Did you just hear the number that just fell out of your pie hole?!”


Don rolled his eyes, closing the door of the truck. “It’s not as hot as Afghanistan.”


“Oh, here we fuckin’ go!” He threw his hands up. “The ‘good ol’ Marine Corps days. Uphill, both ways, 125 d-fuckin-grees. In 100lbs of gear. Never that bad. Nothing ever is.”


Don just chuckled, letting Mike fume away.


“I could be literally drowning to death, and here comes Mr. Caster. swoopin’ to tell me that it's not so bad, I could be drowning in SAND!” Mike threw his hands up once again, even turning once or twice for effect. “Thanks, Don. You are a godsend. What the hell would I be doing without you?”


Don crossed his arms and just took a second to look at his friend, not saying anything for a bit.


“What.”


“You know… for someone who bitches about the heat constantly, you always are the last to get in the truck with the nice AC.”


Mike cursed under his breath and quickly clambered in.


It would be a few minutes of shuttling back to the parking garage so they could get on the road for Northern Nevada. It was about a 12-hour drive to Winnemucca, NV, but it was either the drive from the Skylark HQ or leaving half of their stuff here. Dealing with TSA for a flight home was always a peachy experience too, thanks to Mike getting a bit drunk and rowdy on a flight home once. Don preferred to drive anyway; luckily he had gotten a good bit of sleep on the flight back. Either way, he would finally pull out his phone to call home.

The phone rang for several moments before a rushed woman's voice answered. “Oh shit!” Followed by a slight fumbling noise. “Hi babe!”

Don smiled hearing his Fiance’s voice. “Hey hun.”

“I was in the middle of doing dishes… I didn't expect you guys to have landed yet.” She exhaled slightly.


Mike looked over at Don with confusion.


“It's Morgan.” Don replied.


Mike nodded. “Hey babe!”


Morgan sighed on the other end of the line. “What am I gonna do with you two… He didn't ride your nerves too bad, did he?”

“You know he did.” Don rolled his eyes in bemusement. “Anyway, we just landed in Phoenix and will be on the road soon. We just have to load the car and grab a bite to eat and then we are rollin’.”


“Well, I'm glad! One step closer to bein’ home.” She hummed slightly. “So… Did Mr. Japan say ok? Did you guys make the sale?”


“Unfortunately… It was a no-go.” Don and Mike had never explained their work to people outside of the industry, for obvious reasons. For the sake of their own well-being, they were security consultants and salesmen. It might raise a question or two on occasion, but in a world where war dogs exist, it worked well enough.


“Well… Sorry babe. You were on the road for a while… Did you two make any small sales?” She asked.


“Yeah… We made some. But Mr. Japan was the biggest account we were hoping to hook this run.”


“Just how it goes like you say.” She commented. “Anyway… I won’t keep you. You guys have a long night of driving. I’ll try to make sure food is ready for you guys… 13 hours, right?”


Don smiled. “Let’s say 11 and a half.”


She grew more serious. “Please... Drive safe.”


“Of course… I love you.”


“I love you too.”


Mike threw a hand up. “Hey. What the fuck about me?” He always had to poke himself into everything.


Morgan chuckled softly. “Tell him I love him too. Be safe, boys.”


“Alright. I’ll let you know how we are doing… Talk to you later.” Don said as he ended the call.


Mike waited a single second before leaning over and smacking Don’s arm. “I love you too Donnie. Oh, so very much.”


Don just groaned.


After a short ride down the side road of the airstrip, the transport dropped them off at the parking garage where Don’s car was. Mike had always joked that Skylark tried too hard to be like James Bond; underground parking, private airstrip, the list went on. Either way, they were happy that the parking was underground away from the Arizona heat. Once the truck had stopped, they got out and gathered their bags, and started their way up the short staircase leading to the level Don had parked. They arrived at one of the lower levels and be able to see his car parked off from the stairwell a good way. Mike griped about the distance but Don just kind of ignored him. As they approached, Don spun his key fob into the palm of his hand and clicked the unlock and trunk button so that they could immediately set all of the stuff down.


“Check the guns over real quick while I do the pre-trip, man.”


“Ten-four el’ Cap-ee-tain.” Mike set their long duffle bags down in the trunk to go over the process. It was a regular practice for them every time they went to head home. Check over all of their weapons and make sure that everything was empty. While they had papers and licenses for everything, carrying loaded weapons over state lines was never a good idea.


Meanwhile, Don took the time to look over his car; his beloved Shelby Mustang. He had swindled a good deal on it after working at Skylark for a little bit, and trading in his old SRT Charger his father had gifted him when he got out of the Marines years back. A 2013 GT500 with black paint and red accents, sleek as night; this was his baby. As he always had, he checked the tires and underneath for any leaks before opening the hood to check all of the lines and fluids. While Mike was behind the door clicking and clacking all of the guns, Don fiddled with one of the retaining clips on the fuel rail. Not that it would have had any effect on the lines coming loose, but it was just to make sure they didn’t pop out in a crash. He had replaced the injectors just before this last Op and so he made sure everything was still correctly together. Mike had grown quiet for some reason, immediately raising Don’s suspicion.


Don looked around the hood to see Mike stepping quietly along the passenger side of the car with one of the guns. He had a serious, tense face, and leaned forward as if stalking. Mike got just in front of the passenger door before stopping to take his hat off, lightly placing it on the roof of the car.


Every time. Don thought.


Don could see the weapon in question; his Franchi SPAS-12. Mike dramatically lifted it, and tediously begin to extend the stock out, taking his time to click each of the joints quietly of the folding stock as he bit his lower lip. Once the stock had been fully deployed, he went to shoulder the shotgun before looking over at Don.


“Clever Girl.”


Don just stared blankly at his friend “Can you quit fucking around so we can leave?”


Mike made a disgusted face as he rolled his eyes. “You know, you are supposed to tackle me after I do the thing.”


“Not happening. Trunk. Now.” Don pointed towards the rear of the car.


“Ya know… Thank god in the movie that raptor just eats the guy. It wouldn’t be as cool if all it did was bitch and nag at the guy for the rest of the movie.” Mike shook his head and went back to the trunk.


“And get your stupid Bass Pro Shop hat off my car.” Don said, closing the hood.


Mike mocked what Don said to him under his breath but ultimately do as he had been told.

Don slid into the driver seat of the car before turning the key once in the ignition. He sat and listened to all of the electronics click as they should. He let Mike get in before he turned the key. The engine sparked to life quickly as a thundering roar bellowed from behind the car, the ‘licks’ of the supercharger whine were riding up and down with the RPMs of the engine. Once the car lowered to an idle, the exhaust chugged and rumble heavily as the engine loped; as Don built it to be: Loud and Rowdy. Listening to it echo through the parking garage after a cold start was one of his favorite things to hear after a long trip. He took a few seconds to listen as it settled fully before positioning his hands and feet to shift and drive.


“Jesus Christ, Don. You need me to get out so you can rub one out too?” Mike prodded.


Don shook his head. “Just toss some music in and shut up.”


Mike sighed and did so. They were finally on their way.


After several long hours of driving, they only had stopped a few times for food and gas. Now, the sun had set and they were alone with the music and headlights. To Don’s fortune, Mike had even taken a nap for a few hours. Don turned the AC down slightly as he checked the fuel gauge again. Between a quarter and a half.


“We are gonna stop one more time for gas. You fill the car up and I’ll go inside.” Don spoke, turning through an intersection to get off the interstate.


Mike looked over with a smirk. “So you are just telling me I’m buying gas now?”


“Gas, Cash, or Ass, Mike. Like you always say.” Don smiled mockingly back.


Mike’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Ah. You’re learning.”


After a block or so, Don pulled into a small gas station. To neither of their surprise, they were the only people there save for whoever was working the store. Don turned the car off at the pump and got out to head inside while Mike got out and immediately started filling up the car.

The inside of the convenience store was pretty much like every other. Chips, sugar, and the lowest value of automotive things; and of course no one could forget the super expensive jerky rack that was at every gas station. Don didn’t go for any of that, instead, he just used the restroom before leaving them a five-dollar bill on the counter. If he didn’t want to buy anything, he was at least going to give them some compensation for using their store. With a smile to the lady behind the counter, he returned to the car.


Don finished up fueling his car as Mike went inside, and once he was done he leaned against the car’s door to just wait. He looked around what he could see of the dark town. There wasn’t much to look at from the station; the night sky, some building lights, and a vehicle or two parked in the open lot across the street from the station next to an abandoned semi-trailer. That wasn’t unusual for a small town, in middle-of-nowhere Nevada…


God, Mike was taking forever.


He looked over his shoulder to see that Mike was still inside, obviously flirting with the gal behind the counter. Typical.


“For fuck’s sake…” Don threw his hand up and just got in the car. He wasn’t about to stand around and wait for the cold of the Nevada night to set in.


A moment or so later, Mike was still at it. Don was just now texting his fiance that they wouldn’t arrive until next week and that he had found yet another ‘some lady’ to steal. Unbeknownst to him, one of the vehicles in that dark lot rolled slowly from the lot, and across the road to the gas station. By the time he had looked up from his phone, the vehicle was pulling around behind him. He glanced in his mirror to see the distinct look and shape of a Crown Victoria; the town Sheriff had parked behind him in the single pump lane. The old gentleman got out of his cruiser and placed his hat on his head as he headed toward the gas station. His gate and pace was slow and sore. The walk of a man with a hard life. Out in places like this, those types of men were necessary to keep their small world at peace. Don watched him for a second and then looked back down at his phone.


He sent his message off after a few moments before he looked up to see Mike nearly sprinting out of the gas station for the car. Don’s stomach sank as his mind raced to put the pieces together. Shoving that out of the way, he quickly turned the car on. The engine roared to life as Mike dove into the passenger seat.


Mike slammed the door closed quickly “Drive! Fucking go!” Behind him, the Sheriff was hobbling towards the cars, hand on his sidearm.


Don cursed and shoved the car into gear. The tires spun as they lurched forward from the gas stall. Once they had room, he threw the car to the left, sending the car into a powerslide onto the road. After throwing dirt and gravel everywhere, Don buried the gas pedal and shifted as they began to power down the road, the engine surged as it fought for traction on the cold pavement. They rocketed away from the gas station just as the Sheriff yanked his shotgun from his cruiser. The two had nearly made it away as buckshot shattered the rear window of the car and riddled the trunk. Luckily neither of them were hit, but Don kept the gas pedal to the floor as the car rocketed into the night.


“Jesus Christ!” Mike struggled with his belt as he looked through the rearview at the disappearing gas station. “That was close.”


Don almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of the supercharger, but he heard well enough.


“What the fuck was that?!” He yelled, glancing down to see them passing one hundred and forty miles per hour.


“The bitch was crazy!”


“What the fuck did you do?!”


“You know. My thing!” Mike answered, bracing as Don overtook a pickup truck on the left of the road.


“Your ‘Thing’ is going to get us fucking killed, Asshole!” Don shouted back.


Mike swallowed and stared forward. “Slow down, Man.”


“No. We are going to get to Three-Seventy-Six as fast as we can. Hopefully, they think we go straight”


“Alright. Good plan! Just be careful.”


Don yelled in aggravation. “You weren’t worried about that a minute ago!”


The two cruised at a ‘brisk’ 175mph through the few miles from Tonopah to the split North to NV-376. Making the distance in a little over two minutes, the interstate came fast and Don almost passed it, having to slam on his brakes to overcorrect to swing the Beast onto the Northbound highway. If their luck was there, anyone following them from Tonopah would keep heading East on Highway Six, and if they did follow, NV-376 was a barren, flat, and straight highway with miles between corners. They could outrun anything coming their way. And thus, with their speed set to 100, they barreled through the night. It was only them, the highway, and the car’s hi-beams. After a few minutes, they still had yet to see any lights besides their own, behind or in front of them.


“You think we are good?” He asked, watching the mirrors like a hawk.


“I think you owe me a few grand for the back of my car.” Don spoke over the air noise coming

from the blown-out rear window.


“It ain’t that bad.”


“Listen here, bitch. I am sick and tired of having to do crazy shit to have you not rung around the goddamn ringer!” Don yelled still. “You do this every time we go anywhere!”


“I didn’t do it in Japan!” Mike protested.


“No! You don’t get to talk any bullshit, Mike. Shut the fuck up!” He yelled. “In fact, don’t talk to me for the rest of the fucking trip! Just fucking don’t. Or I’ll leave your sorry ass on the side of the road and I’ll go the fuck home!”


Mike went silent, leaving Don alone to his anger for a moment or so.


The silence wouldn't last long before a series of beeps came from under the dashboard; Don’s radar detector. He glanced down at it and slowed the car to the agonizing 45mph that the highway was known for. Goodie-two-shoes until they pass whatever was throwing off the signal. They rounded the corner in the road to see one of the newer Caprice PPVs without any of its lights on. They passed by it at the speed limit and as calmly as Don could, though he could see that it was one of the Nye County deputies just waiting for late-night speeders, which Don and Mike definitely were not. The car did not pull out as they passed and the two gave a sigh of relief.


“That was close.” Mike muttered over the road noise… Don wasn't so sure.


Confirming Don’s suspicion, once they had got a good bit up the road, they could just barely see the headlights of that Caprice turn on, followed by the lights heading down the road after them.


Don scowled as he tensely gripped the wheel. “Should have kept your mouth shut.”


“Oh, fuck off. You can’t blame me for everything, you know.”


“I can.”


Mike was watching the car that was well behind them for a moment. He soon grew once again concerned. “He looks like he’s haulin’ ass.’


“No shit.”


“Yeah… but he ain’t got any lights on.”


Don glanced in the mirror to see that what Mike said was true. No flashing lights and the County cop was booking it at what would be easily considered an uncomfortable speed. Don had been on this highway many times and had seen others messing with law enforcement out here on one of his father’s many Mt. Shoshone trips, but he had never seen a county rig pushed that hard after someone. He didn’t feel good about this.


Don exhaled tautly. “Call the highway patrol. We aren’t dealing with whatever back hills shit is going on here. It's way over our heads.”


Mike pulled his phone out quickly to do so. “What are you gonna do?”

Forcing a calm breath, Don glared in his rearview through his broken window. “If he doesn’t turn his lights on when his headlights hit us, we are running.”


“Ok. Fuck.” He quickly dialed 911.


By the time he had been transferred to NHP, the Caprice had almost barreled up to them, still with no flashing lights. Mike was just beginning to tell the dispatch something about ‘rogue and crazy redneck police officers’ as the headlights began to illuminate their car. Don swore under his breath before quickly downshifting. The tires spun briefly for a moment as the traction caught up with what the car was doing, and soon they were rocketing off again. The Caprice managed to get a few car lengths behind them as Don floored the car into fourth gear. As they barreled once again past 120, the Deputy’s car drew closer and closer to the two. The headlights of the Caprice were blinding both of them as it charged for them.


“No goddamn it!” Mike nearly yelled over the phone at the dispatcher. “If the fucker wanted us to stop he’d have his lights on! Ya know?! Those flashing things!? None!”


Don glanced down to see that they were hammering past 145mph and the Caprice was still inching on the ass end of his car. The supercharger wailed loudly as it continued racing through the gears, giving him everything it could. The Caprice was now so close that he could no longer see its headlights in his mirror. This bastard had a death wish. For what seemed like an eternity, and by the grace of Carol Shelby himself, they plowed past 160 and onward after the push bar of the Caprice nearly rubbed the back of Don’s car. With an even speed, Don had the upper hand. They had only started to pull away from this jerkoff as they noticed a leftward bend in the road. Not a full turn, but enough that they probably should slow down for it.


“Hold on!” Don yelled.


As best as he could, Don swayed his car into the curve, luckily getting a sweet spot as the road dipped slightly with the bend. The car struggled with the corner as they knifed through the inside of the turn, but once through, he stamped the gas pedal down to return them to ‘faster-than-Caprice’ speeds. They watched as the chasing car started slowing down and was now at least half a dozen car lengths behind them, but Don wasn’t planning on letting the bastard catch up. At least now they had a good long straight to blast through before the next bend. They could make some distance.


“Slow down!? Are you fucking kiddin’ me?” Mike argued with the dispatch person. “Lady. We need help! And if we slow down this guy is going to run us off the goddamn road!” He glanced in the mirror as they sped on. “You guys get someone on 305. We are heading for Battle Mountain via 305! Yeah. I’ll keep you…”


All of a sudden the electronics of the cars seemed to flicker and fritz out; the headlights and dash bulbs flashed rapidly, the radio began to pop and crackle, and even the needles in the instrument cluster twitched and swayed. Mike’s phone had completely crashed, its screen dark and static.


Mike almost dropped his phone. “Yo, what the fuck!? Did we just get hit with an EMP?”


Don let off the gas as he wondered what the hell happened. After a few moments, the ‘gremlins’ seemed to calm down. The radio was the last to return, booting as it loaded the Rise Against CD that had been in there. Up ahead there was a very bright light in the distance over the road. Neither had seen when it got there, but it was far brighter than even the offroad rigs that they had seen. The two hardly noticed that the Caprice behind them was slowing down very quickly the sight.


Mike looked forward. “Ok. That’s enough God. We’ll stop for the guy.”


Don agreed, but as he move his foot from the gas pedal, the accelerator suddenly sank against the floorboard. The engine roared again as the car began to speed up again, barreling straight down the road for the approaching light. Don quickly pushed the brake pedal down. Stiff and fighting him, the brakes seemed to be not responding. What the hell was going on?


Mike shouted. “Alright Don! That isn't funny!”


“I’m not doing a fuckin thing!” Don yelled back, reaching and wrestling with the ignition, trying to remove the key as the car continued to accelerate; the light drew closer.


When removing the key failed, Don tried to shove the shifter out of gear with both hands. It seemed like it was stuck in place by some unmovable force. It didn’t make sense, but there was nothing they could do about it. The supercharger continued to wail as the speedometer crept toward its limit. The light was now blinding them. As the drums of the third song on the album played through the speakers, building to an explosive crescendo, the car plowed into the light.