America 1982-Chapter 662 - 5: Give Them Respect

Interstate 40 is an important component of America’s vast interstate highway system, stretching from Barstow, California in the west to Wilmington, North Carolina in the east, spanning a total length of 2,555 miles.

The construction plans were officially released in 1947, approved to start in 1957, and the last section of the highway was completed and opened for use in 1990.

The overall construction took forty-three years, or rather forty years, as between 1963-1966, the Federal Government suspended work to consider replacing traditional manual labor and conventional explosives with the constant detonation of atomic bombs for mountain excavation. After three years of evaluation and calculation, experts concluded that the cost of using atomic bombs for road construction was higher than traditional methods, and the safety regarding radiation spread could not be guaranteed.

The California stretch of Interstate 40 is almost entirely located in the Mojave Desert. Once you look to either side of the road, you see nothing but Gobi and yellow sand, huge barren rocky mountains that resemble scales, patches of alkaline earth, and trees with twisted branches that still strive to live. From a distance, they look like natives performing witchcraft, with tufts of desolate grass at their feet, akin to clumps of sinister flames.

The last supply station before exiting the California section is the small city of Barstow, which was very prosperous over a hundred years ago. Mining companies from all over America brought countless miners here to make final preparations before heading to the rich mines in the Mojave Desert. At its peak, the city had a floating population of several hundred thousand.

Now, long gone is its prosperity, leaving only a large train station that sits like a spider at the center of a web, with numerous rails spreading out into the distance. Today, the city’s population has dwindled to less than twenty thousand. Even after being allowed by the state capital to open casinos to boost the economy, it is still one of the poorest cities in California. Of its fewer than twenty thousand residents, 80% live on federal aid or welfare.

The desolate American Western scenes in "Kill Bill" were shot in Barstow.

Tommy first filled up his gas tank at the station, then ate a simple lunch at a nearby fast-food joint. According to plan, he was to enjoy his dinner six hundred kilometers away in Flagstaff, Arizona. Eric Bell, who back during his fraternity days at university had been solely focused on researching geological changes and earthquakes, was now the Chief Scientist at the United States Geological Survey’s Geosciences Center in Flagstaff. He would join Tommy for dinner.

Outside the fast-food restaurant, locals occasionally cast curious glances at Tommy’s Rand Venture 4 parked by the roadside, trying to figure out which wealthy individual would dare to bring such a luxury vehicle to the desert, allowing its paint to be scoured by sand and pebbles.

Tommy sipped on his cola as he walked out of the fast-food joint and put on his sunglasses to continue his journey. A sharp and prolonged whistle accompanied by the roar of a motorcycle sounded. Soon, a Harley motorcycle caught up from behind. It was a young white couple, dressed flamboyantly yet shabbily. The young man driving the motorcycle lifted his shirt exaggeratedly, revealing the handgun tucked at his waist, and greeted Tommy with a grin, "Look at this charming Rand Venture 4. Sir, I mean no offense, but I think I need to teach you a lesson. It’s not wise to cruise around in such a car in sparsely populated areas. Pull over to the side."

Tommy glanced at the red dot that had quietly appeared on their chests and laughed, "Delighted to."

He then slowed down, pulled over to the side of the road, got out of the car with his hands raised and sipping his Coke with an easy demeanor, and stood by the side of the road, chewing on his straw while watching the two dismount their motorcycle and approach his vehicle.

"What are you doing? I..." The girl had apparently not expected her companion to act so quickly, outright stealing a luxury car, and now she asked him in shock.

"Shut up!" The young man caressed the Rand Venture 4’s body as if it were a treasure and then turned his head to his smokey-eyed, bikini top and hot pants clad companion in the back seat of the motorcycle, "I need this car. You should make a deal with this gentleman. Sir, I’m a director, yes, and you’re lucky to audition for me. Now, follow my directions. First, drop that damn cola, and then sweetheart, come stand properly, with a bit of panic on your face. You said you’ve studied professional acting, so quick, give him some spicy visuals."

The young man shifted his buttocks into the driver’s seat, his eyes eagerly sliding his fingers across the solid wood dashboard. Then, with his right hand holding the gun, his left hand took out a phone, turned on the camera, and aimed it at Tommy, who was slowly placing the Coke on the side of the road, and the girl on the motorcycle.

"I don’t want to..." the girl began to express her dissatisfaction, but the man raised the handgun to emphasize, "Do as I say! Slut!"

The young woman, with a face showing coercion, slowly lifted her shirt, exposing her breasts.

"Touch her, sir," the young man said while filming, "unless you want to consider personal accident insurance in addition to theft insurance."

"You’re quite the actress, lady," Tommy complied, placing his hand on the young woman’s chest. The girl turned her face away, looking unpleased, muttering objections under her breath, making it look as if she was being forced by Tommy.

Tommy, however, was very invested in his performance, diligently following the director’s instructions, seriously ’working’ on the girl’s chest with a face full of enjoyment.

"The deal is done, you old pervert. You’re implicated in molesting a minor. To avoid having the victimized girl call the police and trouble you, you’ve given her this car as compensation. I have now uploaded the video to a short video app but set it to only I can see it. However, if you don’t want to give her this little gift, I will make the video public and also send it to the police station’s account," the youth said triumphantly to Tommy after filming a segment:

"Now, get back to the side of the road and continue drinking your Coke."

The young couple, one driving a car and the other riding a motorcycle, left Tommy at the roadside and drove off. However, they hadn’t gone far before the car suddenly stalled and could no longer be started. Meanwhile, two Chevrolet Suburban SUVs, which had been following Tommy’s car from behind, suddenly accelerated past them and formed a roadblock up ahead, blocking the pair’s escape.

"Don’t scratch my car, and make the most out of waste. This trip’s gas and meal costs are going to add up, so let’s make it back from them," Tommy said as he picked up the Coke he had placed on the ground and took a big gulp before speaking into his watch:

"Like having them max out the borrowing limit on their phones through KeyBank with a three-year term, then choosing immediate repayment upon default. That way, they can immediately pay me back the three years of interest as if they’re experiencing the fees for using my car. And if they don’t have enough money to pay back my interest, I’ll suggest they voluntarily go to Pam’s chain of used car dealerships and sell that busted Harley of theirs at scrap value."

"And if that’s still not enough to cover the costs, sir? Should I have him get a physical at the hospital first, I mean, they might be willing to voluntarily donate some spare parts from their body to medical research, a great cause," Tommy’s bodyguard, John Page’s voice came through the watch.

John was the second grandson of old Page. The head of the Hawk Family, Tony, was John’s godfather and had personally planned his life, sending him to military school, service in the armed forces, joining the Naval Intelligence Service as a field agent, and later being assigned to work for a while in the Secret Service in Washington, specializing in presidential security, learning how to protect VIPs. He had returned to Tommy’s side to take the role of head bodyguard only a few years ago, a knight of absolute loyalty and devotion to the Hawk Family.

Tommy exhaled a puff of smoke, very displeased with Page’s suggestion, and corrected firmly, "Page, they are white, not niggers. Don’t use the methods you would on illegals with no papers on them. Give them some respect. If that’s not enough to cover what they owe me, have your brother’s security company make the man sign a contract of indentured servitude and send him off to Eastern Europe to be cannon fodder."