Mystified

By Will Christy

Amid the destructive environmental impact of humanity in the 20th century, one family takes a stand; providing hope for planet sustainability in the new millennium. From engineering the fall of Czar Nicholas in 1917 Russia to the first Gulf War, an extraordinary family saga unfolds against the backdrop of real world events.

Stephan, sole family survivor from the Russian revolution, establishes a rural base of operations in America, laying the foundation for a family empire based on commercial food production. Within the crucible of internal family conflict, expansion and growth in commercial farming evolves into a long-range family effort to sustain Earth's resources.

Present day main character, Jim, chafing under a father's iron will, leaves home and a childhood sweetheart for the Navy. While deployed to the Persian Gulf clearing sea mines, a chance encounter sparks an intimate relationship between Jim and the mistress of a wealthy Arab businessman from Bahrain.

Disillusioned by the politics of oil, Jim returns to his rural Appalachian roots after a thirteen-year absence and finds himself confronted with an altruistic family mission and a son from his childhood sweetheart. Jim, newfound son, sweetheart and family mission all hang in the balance when the Middle East reaches out from the past to threaten his new way of life.

The story culminates in a tragic event providing an opportunity for Jim's family to make the desert bloom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098350864

Book preview

Sixteen

Prologue

The future, early 21st century

Charleston, South Carolina

The former United States Naval Operating Base

Spring in the South Carolina lowland brings fragrance and new life to the intersection of salt and fresh water marsh. A few miles up the Cooper River, an old abandoned naval base waits patiently for time and nature to erode the hand of man.

Beach music drifts out from the former officers’ club, now a community recreation center. A light dewy smell of azaleas and tradition permeate the evening air, prelude to a deep-south summer dominated by humidity and heat. The old senior officer quarters on the north end of the base; now bed and breakfast inns, cater to the ever present Charleston tourist trade. On one screened second story porch overlooking the river, a beautiful woman and a gray-haired man dance lithely to the music, exhibiting grace found exclusively in a duet pitched to corporeal rhythm’s floating between the past and future.

Chapter One

To Russia, having learned the philosophy of disaster, there comes no final defeat.-- Homer Lea

Russia, February 1917 (Plot against the Czar)

The duke addressed the textile workers gathered in his country home outside St. Petersburg. Although renamed Petrograd at the beginning of the great war with Germany, the duke still called it St. Petersburg. "An eagle soared overhead when Pyotr Alexeyevich, Grand Prince and Great Russian Tsar, began construction on Peter and Paul Fortress in 1703. The occasion signified St. Petersburg’s beginning and a turning point in the war with the Finns.

The only way mother Russia will soar again is for the people to rid our country of Czar Nicholas, his German wife, and Rasputin’s ghost. February twenty-third is International Women’s’ Day. A strike sparked by the women of Russia in the city founded by Peter the Great will spread like wildfire across the countryside to Moscow. The leadership of Czar Nicholas cannot compare with that of his ancestors. When greatness eludes the one man called upon to govern, the people will outgrow his rule and a change of government is inevitable.

One female textile worker interjected, But the Bolsheviks have not called for a strike.

The Bolshevik leadership has no sense of history, countered the Duke. The French revolution only succeeded when the women of France demanded bread for their children. The time is ripe for Russian women to do the same. Converge on the Dumas. Demand bread for your children. The male workers in other trades will be ashamed and follow your lead.

Another workers’ spokesperson asked, And the Cossacks, Colonel Engelhardt, what is their role?

The duke took his chair near the great fireplace while his brother, Colonel Engelhardt, responded. There is a saying amongst the peasant soldiers and the Cossacks that the English are committed to fighting the Germans until the last drop of Russian blood is spilled. Continuous bad leadership in the war has shifted our soldiers’ loyalty from the Czar to Russia’s people. The official order to the Cavalier Guard will be crowd control. In reality, my Cossacks will ride through the demonstrations, guns holstered and sabers sheathed. Our only intervention will be to prevent civil authorities from interfering with the demonstrations.

The Czar himself will be at the front on February the twenty-third, and key workers on the railways are poised to ensure any train the Czar boards after the strikes commence will be unable to reach its destination. So, as you can see, you are not alone in this great effort to change the course of Russian history. The goal of the railway workers will be to isolate the Czar from any government control apparatus during the strike’s early stages.

The Colonel paused for effect, looking for hesitation or belief in the assembled workers’ eyes before continuing in a strong, quiet voice. When the Czar realizes his throne is in jeopardy and is finally able to return from the front, the strikes will have reached a turning point. Government agencies will either fear the people and abandon their posts, or join the strikers and become part of the movement to dethrone the Czar. The only viable option available to Czar Nicholas will be to abdicate his throne.

In the following silence, Stephan, the Duke’s youngest son noted hope and enthusiasm on the mill workers’ faces. The people believed it could happen.

Again, the workers’ spokesperson questioned, What does Engelhardt gain from the Czar’s fall?

The Duke rose from his chair and spoke to the assembled workers in a soft voice. "I seek no personal gain from our joint venture. In fact, from today forward the family Engelhardt is in your hands. My brother and I place our trust in you, Russia’s workers. The Russian people have the most to gain from a relatively peaceful government transition and the most to lose if the Czar’s overthrow turns violent.

"To continue under the Romanov yoke can only result in a downward spiral to certain anarchy and lawlessness for our country. I cannot guarantee the events we set in motion here today will succeed in bringing peace and equality to the Russian people. But if nothing transpires from our efforts here today, I will guarantee that many of us sitting here, as well as our families, will perish in the chaos that is sure to follow.

"True change must come from the people, not a political party like the Bolsheviks, Soviets or the Kadet. My effort is to formulate conditions in the country that are favorable to a change in government with little or no civil bloodshed. Too many brave countrymen have already died in a senseless fight against the Germans. Let the end of the Russian monarchy begin here, in this room, under your hand.

There is nothing more to be said. Now depart with God’s grace and do what is required for our country’s future. God bless mother Russia. The assembled textile workers rose to depart. The Duke mingled among their number, shaking hands and looking for commitment in their eyes and voice.

* * * *

Stephan, older brother Vlad and their uncle gathered around the old Duke, who sat in his great chair facing a roaring fire in the hearth, staring intently at the flickering flames.

Colonel Engelhardt was the first to speak. You spoke well, my brother.

As did you, my brother, said the Duke. The die is cast. All plans and schemes to save Russia from devouring itself are in place. The rest is in the peoples’ hands. Unfortunately, there is no sure formula for success in revolution. Change on a national level will always breed conflict. What emerges from the conflict will decide the country’s fate. The key is the Cossack. Once the demonstrators realize the armed forces will not interfere, there will be no stopping or controlling the people.

The Duke paused and turned to his oldest son. Vlad, just in case our friendly leaders in the textile mills develop cold feet and decide not to strike on February twenty-third, arrange for the release of fifty political prisoners in the early morning hours. Feed them, provide warm clothes, and release them in the textile district. Tell them the time to strike is now. Civil unrest is their special form of expertise.

Major Vladimir Engelhardt acknowledged his fathers’ request with a nod. As you wish, Father. However, if you don’t trust the mill workers why have you bothered to confide our plans in their leadership here today?

The Duke smiled into the flames and replied, To reap a harvest, my Son, you must first plant a seed. A revolutionary seed planted today may bear fruit at the precise time people are hungry and nourishment is in dire need. Never discount the power of hope in a hopeless situation.

Colonel Engelhardt rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder. On that misguided philosophical note, I must take my leave. Boys, I am afraid your father’s faith in the Russian people is his one weakness. Let us hope it is not our undoing.

The Duke covered his brother’s hand with his own and replied, Go with God, brother, and remember your open ambition for power is also a weakness. Duke Leo paused and looked up at his younger brother. It is good we see the truth in each other.

The Duke remained seated, staring into the fire as his brother departed. Always remember, my sons, anonymous power is power in its purest form. Your uncle has yet to grasp that concept. Like all public figures, he wants the power now. Great events in human endeavor rarely happen on their own accord. Real, tangible power resides in the unseen hand of an individual or a small group with the ability to accurately interpret what is happening around them. These individuals and small groups will most certainly influence the outcome of conflict resolution within a society.

The Duke’s hand passed over his forehead, a furrowed brow betraying his worry, Motivation is the key. Both your uncle and I realize the nobility in Russia is at an end. My brother sees the coming conflict as an opportunity to consolidate power for himself within the military and retain the vast land holdings he has acquired. Unfortunately for us, without his help controlling the Cossack, our plot to unseat the Czar will be squashed like all the others in the past.

Stephan spoke for the first time since the meeting began with the textile workers, Father, what will happen after the Czar is forced to abdicate?

The Duke glanced up at him. Stephan, you have always pulled at the string until you could see its end. I encourage you to continue pulling at the string of life. It may be you will live to a ripe old age before you find its end. However, the pursuit of power through government control is a string with no end.

Plans are in motion and suggestions have been made. After the Czar abdicates, there will be a provisional government. I hope the provisional government will, through the rule of law, establish a representative type government. If they can hammer out real change for Russia, our country has a chance of joining the world community in a new century featuring industry and change. If vested interests try to establish a status-quo government, a civil war is sure to ravage and burn our country. From the ashes will emerge one strong leader with absolute power. Someone like your uncle will surely strive to maintain the status-quo. It is also possible someone like V. I. Lenin from the Bolsheviks will establish an iron rule under the guise of socialism. In nearly all possible outcomes from civil war I see only absolutism and Russia’s continued isolation from the rest of the civilized world.

Vladimir, standing next to his father’s chair, spoke. We are living in dangerous times for our family as well as for Russia, Stephan. I am afraid we are players in a game we can’t win. As Father said, the pursuit of power is without end. Father will continue to use his influence to move Russia toward democracy. I will stay close to our uncle and try to influence his actions if the country comes to civil war. You are the youngest, and the fate of Engelhardt falls to you.

Stephan looked at the cold expressions on their faces. Even with the roaring fire in the hearth, Stephan felt a chill and a deadly premonition. Father, I respectfully request to stay by your side. Send Mother to England to stay with her family until it is safe to return.

The expression on the Duke’s face softened. Your mother also thinks with her heart and truly she is the one person I cannot command. She cast her fate with mine many years ago. At our age, a long separation would kill both our spirits. She realizes the danger and agrees you are the one that must be removed from the coming conflict.

Noting the resolve in his father and brother Stephan responded. It appears my future is decided, what is my tasking?

The capacity to kill has far outpaced military tactics and doctrine in this so-called Great War. No matter the outcome, all the world’s great powers will find themselves crippled for years to come, except one. America is isolated from the poisons of Europe and Asia by two great oceans. With no imbecilic monarchy to rid itself of, America is in a position to experience tremendous economic growth after the war. A young country and a young man with resources should grow and flourish together. I have been Russian too long to change, and Vladimir has committed himself to the military, so building a family empire in a foreign land will fall to you, my youngest son.

But Father, I too am Russian, Stephan said.

Before he could continue, Vladimir cut in. For the continuity of Father’s bloodline it is much better for you to be alive in America than dead in Russia. Open your eyes, Stephan. Weak as the Czar is, there are at least ten more in the same aristocracy conspiring to replace him. Add the conflicting political parties seeking power to rule Russia and our hope to establish a democratic regime appears very dim indeed.

Your brother speaks with clarity, Stephan. The days where royal balls and class privilege prevail are gone. Vlad and I will strive to guide Russia to a better future. It is your fate and responsibility to ensure a viable future for our family, finished the Duke.

An empire requires form and mission, what will you have me build, Father?

"The choice is yours. I have read America is a land of opportunity, where supply and demand govern economic activity, and new ideas bring fortune and fame to the bold. For this reason, I would suggest long-term investment in something quiet and solid. Food-producing land will always be a solid base for a family to build and grow strong over time. Whole populations will be moving from America’s rural farms to work in factories built near metropolitan areas. Purchase the family farms and combine them into large parcels. Govern the parcels in the same manner I have trained you to manage our estates.

"Think about filling the transportation gap between the railways and the food vendors in the city with motorized Lorries. While success always hides in details, your focus must always be on the big picture. The Earth’s tillable land will only stretch so far, but the human population will continue to increase geometrically. As the new century reveals itself, people will migrate from their former rural, agrarian lives to the cities. They will learn new industrial skills, and in doing so will forget the survival skills their ancestors perfected.

I suspect mankind will find itself congregating in huge population centers serving as labor pools for the new industrial machines consuming the old world we are so comfortable with. Governments will clamor for new weapons of destruction born in technology to protect or acquire resources. The people operating these industrial machines will clamor for food and clean water. This will be the way of the new world. If you provide the food needed for industrial workers to survive, you will secure the future of our family.

Stephan’s mind faltered at his father’s thought process for the future. So many questions! How, when, what are my resources?

His brother Vlad responded. Perilous times are upon us. Since the war’s beginning, Father and I have quietly liquidated family assets at inflated wartime prices. The increased demand for all things has allowed us to divest, without suspicion, family assets that would most certainly be lost in any radical redistribution of wealth predicated by civil war. All that remains is the family home in Petrograd, five hundred dessiatins here around the country house, and revenue from the Czar’s land placed in Engelhardt care.

The Duke handed Stephan an envelope. Inside the envelope is a new name for you and a numbered Swiss account. The account will finance the future of Engelhardt. Commit the account numbers to memory. There should be no connection between the old world and the new. If Engelhardt is vanquished in Russia, it shall be an empty victory for our foes, with no recourse for any future government to recoup our family wealth.

The Duke rose from his chair and took his youngest son in his arms. My only tenet is for you to try and see things in life for what they truly are. Try not to let yourself become part of anything outside family interests you can’t walk away from on a moment’s notice. The Duke stroked his son’s blond hair and smiled sadly over his head at Vladimir. A single tear formed and rolled slowly down the old Duke’s weathered face. Now find your mother and say your farewell. You leave for America in the morning.

Chapter Two

There is little in life that is not brutal except our ideal.—Homer Lea

America, April 1917

Stephan Sable stood on the covered porch of a boarding house in the upper Ohio Valley at Point Pleasant, West Virginia. He filled his lungs with the clean, moist spring air. Songbirds heralded a new day and a sweet freshness hovered in the cool morning air. His gaze scanned land filled with luscious green and he smelled new growth. Like the new name selected by his father, it was a new beginning in a young land. The boarding house where he lived looked out over the confluence of the Ohio and Kanawah Rivers and the most fertile, abundant farmland he’d ever seen.

His search for a rural operations base had led him to the Ohio Valley. Foretold by his father, the migration of young rural adults from family farms to the steel and manufacturing towns to the north had begun. The result was good farmland available at reasonable prices.

Named after Camp Point Pleasant, established by General Andrew Lewis in 1774, the town developed on the site of the bloodiest battle ever fought between Indians and early frontier settlers. A major event in Dunmore’s War and a prelude to the American Revolution, the battle took place on October tenth, 1774. Strengthening Stephan’s belief that all empires born by the sword would continue writing their destiny with the same instrument in hand.

He now understood his time in history. Rapid advances in technology combined with the current world conflict, would ultimately end the age-old agrarian way of life for industrialized nations. Thankfully, with the world in conflict, technological change had yet to have a major impact on the rural tranquility found by Stephan in the upper Ohio Valley.

He hoped this particular rural setting would provide a base starting point in fulfilling his father’s tenant to quietly build a food producing empire. Today he would travel west, down the Ohio River to inquire about a farm for sale near Apple Grove, a small rural community along the Ohio Valley on the West Virginia side of the river.

The well-traveled road west followed the lush valley’s southern edge. Stephan settled the buggy into the road’s worn grooves and gave his horse free rein. Surveying a promising valley for the new family name chosen by his father for future generations, his mind suddenly turned to home. In an unguarded moment, the memory of his mother’s smile and the strength of his father’s character washed over the wall barricading his emotions. So much had transpired since saying farewell to his old world family. Traveling south across Russia to the Black Sea, slipping past the Turks through the Dardanelle Straits, booking passage on a fast cargo ship to avoid German submarine attack while crossing the Atlantic. A lifetime of harrowing experiences crammed into a few short weeks, transforming innocent youth to a calculating man of survival and cunning.

While Stephan worked diligently executing his father’s visionary mission in the rural heartland of America, the world continued moving forward with its own agenda. The revolution engineered by his father had succeeded in deposing the Czar. America had entered the war in response to German submarine attacks on neutral shipping vessels, and the Socialist Lenin had returned to Russia from exile to lead the Bolsheviks.

Suddenly, all thoughts of the future and world events vanished when a woman’s screams tore him from his thoughts. At attention now, the distressing screams for help seemed close, probably just over the next rise. He grabbed his walking cane from the carriage floor, jumped down to the ground, secured his horse’s reins to a nearby tree, and bolted across the rise of land defining the valley’s contour.

From the tree line at the valley’s edge he observed a woman on horseback slashing with her riding crop at two burly men on foot. In the seconds it took him to assess the situation, Stephan formulated a plan and acted.

* * * *

Michael Hayes, Jacob and Sarah Hayes’ oldest daughter, fumed with anger at her father for dictating her early rise from a warm bed to meet a client and at the two ruffians trying to waylay her on the valley road. She concentrated her attack on the man holding her horse’s reigns.

A commotion in the nearby tree line caused her and the attackers to pause. From loud thrashing in the undergrowth came a cultured Hello the road, followed by a well-dressed young man stumbling onto the road near at hand. The young man appeared oblivious to the situation, walking casually toward her and the assailants. Dusting off his clothes, he spoke in a formal English accent, I say good fellows, could you please tell me where I am? Been thrashing around the woods all morning, afraid I don’t have a clue.

Retaining his grip on her bridle, the lead robber gave her an evil smile and said with ridicule. Mister, you are right in the middle of a robbery. My friend here will be happy to take your money and valuables before we continue our morning business with this pretty young lady.

A looked passed between Michael and the young man before he stepped back with a look of surprise and fear. The man’s accomplice grinned, drew a long knife from his belt, and came at him. Here it comes, Michael said to herself, be ready. As the knife came forward, the young man’s cane landed with blinding speed on the man’s wrist. Shattered bone made a crisp sound in the cool morning air. The knife fell to the ground and the man bent over in agony, clutching his broken wrist. At the same time, Michael struck with her riding crop at the hand holding her bridle and she reared her horse high over the bandit’s head while he crouched in terror, holding his hand.

The tables now turned, Michael watched the young man walk calmly around his attacker while she quieted her mount. He drew a small revolver from under his coat and placed the muzzle behind the man’s ear.

In the silence following the pistol hammer cock, he spoke quietly in a cold voice to the dumbstruck men now cowering in the roadway. Gentlemen...gentlemen, nothing sickens me more than seeing grown men attack a woman. My inclination is to kill you both. The world would be a better place with your passing. The emotionless words had the desired effect on both highwaymen. He spoke to the bandit at his feet just loud enough for all to hear. I will remember your faces. If I see you or your friend again, I will shoot to kill without question, and I am never without a weapon. Now, join your friend.

Michael and the young man watched the bandits retreat down the road, glancing furtively over their shoulders. With the highwaymen still in earshot, she watched him holster his pistol, cup his hands around his mouth and shout, Yes, my good fellows. As the newspaper man said, go west. Go west and never return. You may live long and prosper, but not here, not in the Ohio Valley!

Michael, slightly giddy from excitement and anticipation, guided her mount toward this young man of action. She forgave and marveled at the wisdom of her father, who had dictated an early rise from bed on what had turned out to be a fine spring morn.

* * * *

You are not from these parts, are you, Sir?

Her voice alone triggered an overpowering emotional response deep within Stephan. When the two ruffians finally disappeared around a bend in the road, Stephan allowed his eyes to follow where his heart had already gone. A slender figure atop a huge mount, she sat in formal riding clothes, the morning sun framing her body in the sky above him.

You may say I am a new day in these parts. Stephan paused as he removed her shoe from the stirrup. Now, if you would be so kind, please join me here on the ground amongst all the other mortals.

She laughed, dropping to the road light as a feather and very close to Stephan, both hands resting on his broad shoulders. Her hands slipped under the lapels of his jacket and pulled his face down to hers while she stood on tip-toe and kissed him on