Sic Semper Tyrannis (15 page)

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Authors: Marcus Richardson

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Hallwood whistled.  Rob didn’t know if it was in response to his speech or to the view.   “Well, you got a way with words, friend.  In better times, I’d agree with you, no doubt about it. But fancy words and patriotic speeches don’t change the fact that the Chinese destroyed my town and damn near killed a third the people in it.  They’re gonna come back, and it’s because of
you
.  And I’m sorry, but there’s nothing that you can say that will change our minds on telling the Chinese right where you are.”

Rob slowly turned to face the traitor.

“And don’t think we didn’t plan ahead.  We know where your little fortress is,” Hallwood said quickly, taking a step back.  “If you kill me—”

“Christ man, why would I kill you?  You’re just a weasely little traitor.  Not worth the ammo.”  Rob sighed and turned back toward the HQ.  He began walking, ignoring the protests from Hallwood. 

Maybe he’s right.  Maybe we should give up, move on…try and start over somewhere deeper in the mountains…away from towns, away from…
He stopped in the cleared area of the compound and frowned. 
Damn it all…if we stay, they’ll sell us out and the Chinese will just blow us right off the mountain.  If we leave, they’ll probably sell us out anyway and we’ll be chased by the Chinese wherever we go. We’ve killed too many of them to just forgive and forget…

“—get you at some point, you know!” Hallwood was still talking.  “You can’t win…”

Rob looked at Hallwood.  “Say we leave,” he began.  The look of hope that washed over the local’s face was almost comical.  “What then?”

“Why,” said Hallwood, he walked quickly up to Rob with a renewed vigor in his step.   “The Chinese would let you leave in peace.  They told us they’d give you safe passage to wherever you wished to go as long as you swore not to raise arms against them ever again.”  Hallwood looked around.  In a lower voice he said, “Look.  I can understand your reluctance.  You’ve got quite the reputation…but stop kidding yourselves.  You don’t have the manpower to take on the Chinese.  They’ve got an
army
…”


One,
” crackled Rob’s radio.  “
Got a vehicle comin’ up.

He almost ignored it, but something told to Rob hold up a hand for silence.  He keyed his own radio.  “Friendly?”

“SUV
marked Border Patrol.  Green and white.  RAF-1 stopped ‘em downslope.  Says they’re legit.  Want to talk with you
.”

“All right, send ‘em up.”  He turned to Hallwood.  “I don’t know, Roger.  I just don’t know anymore.”

Rob stopped listening to the excuses, the warnings, the pleadings from the quisling.  He stood there nodding absently, waiting for his new visitors to drive up the mountain. 

In a few moments, a dust covered SUV rolled to a stop, tires popping and crunching on the gravel.  As the dust cloud dissipated around the green and white vehicle, four doors opened and Border Patrol Agents stepped out.  They were in full-up tactical gear. Weapons came up and they scanned around.

Rob excused himself from Hallwood and approached with a hand up.  “Welcome, gentlemen.  I assure you, those weapons aren’t needed here.”

The leader stepped away from the front passenger door and lowered his M4.  “Stand down,” he called over his shoulder.  The others followed suit.  He walked a few paces up to Rob.  “Names Doug Levine.  I’m the Supervisory Agent in Charge of the Nogales Station survivors.  I’m looking for a Rob Gunn?”

“You’ve found him.”

“Well it’s about time.  We’ve been tracking you guys for weeks.”  The man exhaled.  “You’re a hard bunch of men to find.”

Rob grinned and shook the Agent’s hand.  “Well, if we were easy to find, the Chinese would probably have killed us by now.”

It was the agents turn to grin.  “Heard about the trouble you’ve been causing our visitors…”  The man’s grin died.  “We were only able to find this place because the people down there in Pine Bluff—”

“What’s left of it, you mean,” said Hallwood bitterly.  “I’m Roger Hallwood, officer, and I’m trying to convince these men to give up their delusions and turn themselves over to the Chinese—or at least to leave this area.”

Rob ignored the civilian.  “Mr. Levine, if you’re here to try and get us to surrender, too—”

“Mr. Gunn, on the contrary, I’m here to join you.”

Rob thought his face would split, his smile was so wide.  He fought the urge to hug the agent.  “You and your men are most welcome.  Just the four of you, then?”

Hallwood’s mouth hung open.

“Oh, hell no,” said Levine, smiling.  “We’re just the scouting party.  I have 57 agents and officers, two helos, vehicles, weapons, all the ammo and supplies we could carry north with us…”

Rob put a hand on Levine’s shoulder armor and closed his eyes in silent prayer of thanks.  

“You can’t be serious—” sputtered Hallwood.

“And there’s a lot more behind us.”

Rob’s eyes opened.  “What do you mean?”

The radio crackled again.  “
Rob!  You better get in here…The Chinese are sacking Tucson…it’s all over the HAM net.  They’re burning it to the ground!

“That’s what I was about to tell you.  There’s refugees heading this way.  And a whole shit ton of people from the outskirts—they had a nice roadblock set up—”

“Man named Brady?” asked Rob.

Levine nodded.  “Yep.  Brady.  Got a whole posse with him, all loaded for bear, said they’re coming north to find you boys.  You’re gonna have your
own
army here, soon enough.”

“They’re destroying Tucson?  They said they were going to
leave
…” mumbled Hallwood.  His shoulders slumped forward.

Lance trotted up, his boots crunching on the gravel.  “Rob!”

“Lance, this is Agent Levine.  Agent Levine, Lance Bryton, my…well, my co-captain I guess you could say.”

“Pleasure, sir,” said Levine as the two men shook hands.

Rob turned to Hallwood.  “You can see we’re not going to roll over and give up.  You run along back to your new masters and tell them we’re going to be coming for them.  You tell ‘em we’re going to give ‘em a
war
.”

Hallwood looked utterly defeated.  “You’re asking me to sign the death warrant for my town, my friends and neighbors.”  He shook his head.  “The Chinese will kill us all, now…”

“Then
join
us, Roger.  Convince your friends to move up here with us.  There’s plenty of shelter…”

“There’s little enough food left for us in town…how will we all survive, you and your new little army?”

Rob started to smile again.  He looked at Lance and Agent Levine.  “Gentlemen, follow me.”

Rob led the three others across the compound to a large storage area that had been dug into the side of the mountain and blocked off with logs.  A crude gate had been cut into the wood and blocked with a chain-link fence segment.  Rob unlocked the padlock and swung the gate open.  “Have a look.”

Lance grinned as Levine and Hallwood peeked inside and gasped.

“There’s got to be ten tons of materiel in there—food, weapons, ammo…where’d it all come from?” asked Levine.

“That’s courtesy of the Red Chinese.  You tell your people to come up here, Roger.  We’ve got the food and space for everyone.  And we’re gonna get more, I promise you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 9

Press Release

 

 

HANK SUTHBY, ACTING PRESIDENT of the United States, watched the monitor carefully.  He was hunched over the desk in the new Situation Room at NORAD, ignoring paperwork, directives, strategies, all of it—he wanted to focus on the image of his assistant, Daniel, as the promising young man made his way to a Presidential Podium down in the Press Room.

A few reporters off-screen started shouting questions.  Suthby rocked back in his chair and nibbled a fingernail absently.  Daniel ignored the reporters and looked down at the papers in his hand.

“My name is Daniel Jones and I am currently the Assistant Director of Homeland Security.  I have a statement for immediate release to the members of the Press.”
  He organized his papers and cleared his throat.  Lifting up the top page of his papers, he began to read.

“The General Assembly of the United Nations, reminding all member nations of the strong commitment we all have towards stability in every region of the world, which recognizes the inherent dignity, equality and inalienable rights of all global citizens…”

Suthby detected a murmur making its way through the pool reporters.  They looked at each other.  A few shrugged, one man shook his head in apparent disbelief, and the only woman present began to scribble notes furiously on her tablet.


…Reaffirming its Resolution 33/2015, which encourages Governments to work with UN bodies aimed at improving the coordination and effectiveness of international crisis assistance…


What the hell is this?
” asked one of the reporters, holding a hand up like a child in school.  Suthby frowned at the interruption but was heartened by the fact that Daniel never missed a beat and continued speaking.


Noting with especial satisfaction the past and continuing Herculean efforts of the surviving members of the government of the United States, its agencies and nongovernmental organizations…


You gotta be kidding me, what is this an award ceremony?
” said the second reporter.


Stressing the fact,
” continued Daniel, some color finally rising in his cheeks.   “
That the United States faces unprecedented civil breakdown, financial obstacles, internal rebellion, and is in dire need of strong leadership, particularly in the maintenance of law and order
…”

Suthby closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, listening to the words.  The next few lines were pure music to his ears and he didn’t want to miss a word.  So few words, yet they would change his life, and alter the course of human history.

“…this international body resolves to require all member nations and all Federal agencies of the United States—including State and local governments—to collaborate with and recognize former-Secretary of Homeland Security Henry Suthby as President Pro Tem of the United States
…” 

Suthby sighed at Daniel’s flawless delivery.  It was perfect.  The gasps from the reporters were just icing on the cake.  He opened his eyes and nearly laughed out loud at the apoplectic reactions of the two male reporters.  The female was merely staring at Daniel with wide eyes and an open mouth.

He impatiently rifled through his own paperwork as Daniel droned on in the background, reading the rest of the long-winded statement from the Secretary-General of the United Nations.  When he was finally done, the reporters could no longer be contained.


What the hell
is
this?
” one shouted.


You can’t possibly be serious—the implications of this…whatever it is—is it a resolution?  Is it an order?  Is it recognized as law in the United States?”

“Mr. Jones, do you honestly expect average Americans to agree to this?
” asked the woman in a measured voice.

Daniel nodded at her and spoke calmly,
“Janet, I’m not here to give you my opinion.  Quite frankly,
my
opinion doesn’t matter.  What matters is, like you said, the opinions of the average American out there who is suffering through this continuing crisis we all face.  Look, it’s not like the United Nations wants to invade us or anything.  Take a look at the rest of the world—things are falling apart out there because the U.S. government is no longer able to hold the world together.  I mean, you’ve got riots in Germany and England—people are running out of food all across Europe and even Asia is starting to feel the crunch.  We’re not importing anything.  Where is China getting money to pay their workers?  Something has to be done before the entire world enters a new Dark Age.”

“Holy crap,” Suthby muttered at the monitor.  “That was
good
, Daniel.”

Daniel made a show of shuffling his papers and started reading from another letter: “
This is from the leaders of what’s left of Congress—at least the ones we were able to find.  I’ll give you each copies of this for distribution, but the gist of it is that Congress agrees with the United Nations.  In this time of crisis, we must have continuous—and strong—leadership.  Both the minority and majority leaders—of both the Senate and the House—have agreed to President Suthby’s continued leadership on a pro tem basis.  President Suthby has stipulated in this document
,” he said, holding up another piece of paper, this one on Presidential letterhead.

Suthby nearly screamed for joy when the reporters simply wrote down notes instead of challenging Daniel’s use of the phrase “President Suthby”.

“…
which clearly states that he will only assume office until such time as Congress determines he is no longer needed, the next in line under the Continuity of Government protocol is found, or a special election is held—to be scheduled at the discretion of Congress
.”

Suthby slapped his hands together and stood up.  His dream was finally realized.  He was the legitimate President of the United States.  He had achieved what no other man in American history had accomplished—to become the most powerful man in the country without ever needing a single vote, a single lobbyist, a single campaign stop.  He was untouchable, incorruptible, and unstoppable.

He walked to the side table and poured himself a scotch.  “Hot damn,” he said to himself.  After draining the glass and letting his throat recover, he poured another and glanced at the monitor.  Daniel was wrapping up the press conference, fielding a few stunned questions from the pool reporters—it was clear they were completely shell-shocked. 

All the better, Suthby figured.  The longer the Press was quietly confused, the longer it would be before people started to question his authority—the faster people would come to recognize the silence of the Press as acquiescence and acceptance. 

“Now it’s time to save this country,” he said, scotch held high in salute to Daniel’s image on the screen.

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