Field of Blackbirds - Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (me reader txt) 📗

surrounded by soldiers, most of them pointing weapons.
“Am I weak?” asked Nikola. “Am I weak?” he shouted. “Am I weak and pathetic?”
Nikola glared at them for a moment, trying to rein in his anger. He then reached into his pocket and removed a shiny coin.
“Corporal, you’re heads, and Radenko, you’re tails. I’ll make an example out of one of you.”
He tossed the coin into the air. Time nearly stood still. Was Nikola really reduced to this? Was he really this detached from humanity that he would decide their fate with the flip of a coin; heads or tails? The coin caught the sunlight and flashed each of their destinies over and over again.
When it finally fell in the dirt before them, Nikola sighed, “Thank God. I really didn’t want to shoot a fellow Serb.” Nikola made an about-face and began walking back to the jeep.
There were no words to speak. There were no feelings that made sense of what had just happened. Lazar and Radenko simultaneously fixed their eyes in the dirt. The double headed eagle, wings spread to the very edges, had spoken and had called one of them home.

************

Lazar wasn’t exactly sure where they were. He just knew that they were no longer on the side of the road. After the blow to the back of his head, he struggled, he fought, but blackness enveloped him anyway.
Bright colors waded over his face. He felt warmth on his skin as the sun illuminated a stained glass cast of St. Michael. He was resting on a wooden pew which generated soreness in new areas. When Lazar sat up, he heard the chains on his wrists. He was bound. He looked around; saw two soldiers ten feet away, smoking and laughing. The rest of the church was dark and musty. It had been vandalized by spray paint and fire. Lazar could tell by the frescos that it used to be a Serbian Orthodox church. And then, Lazar remembered what Nikola had said; that he would make an example out of one of them. And then he remembered the coin toss. Where was Radenko? He wasn’t next to him.
“Radenko!” shouted Lazar.
The two soldiers flicked their cigarettes and rushed over, grabbing him at the arms. The abrupt manner in which they jerked him to his feet made his head swarm with nausea. He discarded the clear fluid from his deprived, empty stomach.
“Watch what you’re doing. You almost got some of that stuff on me.” shouted one of the soldiers. “Gavrillo’s in the courtyard. We didn’t think you wanted to watch.”
When they pushed Lazar out into the courtyard, sunlight burned his eyes. For a moment, he saw nothing, but then a figure; standing alone, statuesque and undaunted, appeared in the middle of the courtyard. It was Radenko.

The church was only a few miles up the road and was where they arranged to meet with General Pec to discuss the implications and repercussions of what they were about to do.
“He’s General Gavrillo’s son, Nikola.” exclaimed General Michailo Pec. “We can make his life miserable enough. Why do we have to kill him? I don’t understand.”
Nikola pounded his fist on the table. “Damn it, Michailo! He’ll turn on us. He knows everything and he’ll run straight to his father. We could lose Montenegro to secession if they don’t think we’re following the rules here in Bosnia. We can’t afford that. I have done so much for you, Michailo. I have taken the blame for you so many times. Let me do it my way, just this once.”
“Oh, and you think killing a general’s son won’t cause problems in the union with Montenegro?” General Pec stood up and walked to the open threshold of the church’s live-in, priest quarters. He looked out into the courtyard. Nikola followed him.
Nikola set his eyes toward Radenko. “He dishonored Montenegro by shooting a Serb. General Gavrillo will thank us. His son is a traitor. Do you think the general wants that information to get out? We will be sparing him the shame.”
“Listen Michailo, we can say he died honorably in action. Those in our platoon who know who he is; I’ll threaten them with their lives if they ever open their mouths.”
“I gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse, but refuse it, he did.” The general shook his head. “Stupid boy, he had his chance.”
“I’m glad we finally see eye to eye General.”
“Don’t think it will always be so, Nikola.” said the General, with an exhausted temperament.
Nikola gloated, unleashing an annoying chuckle. He headed for the courtyard.
“Nikola, wait.” The general motioned him back in. “I brought mail with me. You got nothing as usual, but Radenko got a small package. Bring it to him. Let him open it.” The General thought it was the least he could do for a man he’d just ordered to death.
Nikola entered the courtyard and stopped twenty paces from Radenko. Nikola examined the small box for a moment. He tucked it under his arm so he could light a cigarette. The flame burst into life as he sucked it through the tobacco.
Nikola looked around at the soldiers, hoping this execution would ignite fear and trepidation in them if they ever refused to follow orders. Consciously, Nikola overlooked Lazar, who was in handcuffs and on his knees. It confirmed everything Lazar thought him to be; pathetic and spineless, nothing more.

As much as Nikola hated both Lazar and Radenko, he also feared them somewhat. If he had his way, he would shoot Lazar along side of Radenko, but he knew the General would never approve of it. Now Nikola had to fear that, as long as he lived, Lazar would never forget this; that one day he would be waiting around the corner to take his life.

Lazar wished he could trade places with Radenko. He was a good man, Lazar thought. He just wanted to get to Montenegro to check in with his father. He had done nothing wrong. He faced death for doing what was right. Lazar felt guilty for the way things worked out. He got everything he wanted. Radenko got nothing. He felt justice had been robbed. It was he who should be standing at attention, as demise shouted in his face, not Radenko.

Nikola parted his own cloud of smoke as he walked toward Radenko. He extended his hand half-way to him, held out the box.
“You’ve got mail, Counselor.” he announced, reminding him of a title he once had.
Nikola smiled with the cigarette at one corner of his mouth, causing a crooked grin. But it was enough for Radenko to notice the cracked tooth that always bothered him. Radenko reached for the package. It was a small box wrapped in brown packing paper. It was postmarked, Belgrade, Serbia. A small insignia was stamped in the upper left hand corner of the box, an old-fashioned style pocket watch. Over it was written, ‘The Time Machine’.
Radenko opened the box and removed the watch. He’d only seen one of its kind before. The watch was white gold with sapphire glass, encrusted with brilliants. It had a chronograph and a lunar calendar. There were others more lustrous, made with more precious metals, but it was the craftsmanship that impressed Radenko. In its craftsmanship, the watch was unique. It was solid. As the hands ticked, Radenko knew that few other watches would outlive it. Radenko gave the watch a new home around his wrist. He looked over at Lazar and nodded his head, rewarding him for remaining true to his word.

Lazar found himself awkwardly imparting thanks to Mr. Nowak, once again for his timeliness. Lazar returned a nod to Radenko, then, bound in handcuffs, Lazar raised his right fist to his chest and brought it inward. Lazar stared at his friend for a time. He broke line of sight only once; when he was ashamed of his undisciplined emotions. The air thickened. The clear, blue sky invited they misty gray. A light rainfall touched down and accompanied them, helping Lazar disguise his tears.

Nikola reclaimed his original position in the courtyard across from Radenko. The fuse had been lit, and was nestled in between Nikola’s fingers. As he took another long drag on his cigarette, Lazar watched half of it disappear. In another drag, it was gone. By now Radenko was only a blur, Lazar was fixated on Nikola. He watched Nikola’s hand move slowly toward the ground. He separated his fingers enough to release his grip on the cigarette. It seemed to fall in slow motion as it tumbled to the earth. It landed next to his boot. The last bit of smoke disappeared before reaching Nikola’s kneecaps. He didn’t waste anymore time. Nikola had been looking forward to this moment. He reached over his shoulder and took a remorseless grip of the AK-47 that was strapped to his back. He moved it slowly, like the turret of a tank. He took aim at Radenko.

It was happening, and Lazar couldn’t do anything to stop it. Lazar struggled to his feet and called out to his friend.
“Radenko, look at me!” Lazar wanted Radenko to look upon a friend’s face as he left them all behind. “I won’t forget you! You’re a good man Radenko! You are my friend! You will always be my friend!”
Radenko appeared unusually calm as though he had already forsaken the inevitable and collided with serenity.

It brought some comfort to Radenko that Lazar was not standing next to him. He felt Lazar was a first-class soldier, but more importantly, a man who was supposed to do something great with his life. Not everyone escapes death twice, he thought to himself. He quietly bid farewell to his friend, and then he quietly bid farewell to