Sic Semper Tyrannis (54 page)

"There is a man to be feared…" whispered Shin Ho. “He will prove far more dangerous than those Regulators.”

Po Sin hissed for his friend to be quiet.  He rewound the man's whispered statement one more time and cranked the volume to maximum.  What he heard sent a chill down his spine.  It was not English—it was Latin.

He watched the man’s lips mouth three simple, little words.  Three words with a powerful message.

"
Sic semper tyrannis
."

CHAPTER 37

Betrayal in the Big Apple

MALCOLM PUSHED HIS WAY past grim-faced Russian soldiers and gasped for breath as he made it to the final landing of the stairwell. 
Next time
, he promised himself,
we set up our headquarters on the ground floor
.  Another soldier burst through the fire exit door and glared at Malcolm for a moment before he shouldered past laden with electronic equipment.  As the door opened Malcolm could hear shouts in Russian and great excitement from the hallway.  He worked his way through the throng of soldiers and technicians until he made it to the actual command room. 

Through the open door he saw chaos.  The Russians—many wrapped in bloody bandages—rushed about dismantling the command center.  They removed monitors, portable control centers, and all manner of electrical equipment.   Malcolm was speechless.  He’d needed to see it with his own eyes to believe the reports…now he wished he hadn’t bothered.

In the face of the American offensive, his Russian allies had decided to flee even faster than they had arrived.

A soldier slammed into Malcolm’s shoulder and shoved him out of the way with a curse.  Malcolm shoved back and he nearly lost his load of equipment before another soldier caught him and a third escorted them both out of the door, glaring at Malcolm the entire time.  Malcolm found Kristanoff shouting orders on the other side of the room.

"Why do you run?"

The general frowned at him.  "You should know—you betray us!"  The general walked around the desk and calmly drew his sidearm.

Malcolm's hands came up.  "I do not know what you talk about!  I betrayed no one.  It is
you
have betrayed
me!
"

The general laughed, a harsh, bark of a sound.  He leveled the gun at Malcolm's forehead.  The open barrel of the semiautomatic pistol looked like the entrance to a cave.

Malcolm could feel sweat on his forehead and adrenaline course through his body.  His legs begin to tingle.  "Please, put that down.  We have to figure this out—"

Russian laughed again, then shouted an order at someone nearby.  "We have no time and there is nothing to figure out.  You were tasked with one thing—block tunnels and keep Americans from coming across."

"We tried!  I had my best men—"

The general scoffed.  "Your best men.  Your best men were worthless!  Americans walk all over you—"

"Like their ships walked all over yours?  Like their planes walked over yours?  Like their tanks walked all over your men?" spat Malcolm.  He regretted his words as soon as he said them for the barrel of the pistol began to tremble in the general's hand.  The man's face flushed with ager.

"My men broke through American lines north of here. All you had to do was hold them from coming through tunnel.  But you could not do that.  You put on pretenses of fighting back, but we both know you let them in.”

For the second time that day, Malcolm was speechless.  “
What?
” he stammered.

“It was back door they needed,” Kristanoff continued through clenched teeth, “to take control of island and destroy experimental radar station."

"You and I both know," Malcolm tried to say in a calm voice, “it was not the American army that destroyed your toy.   It was missiles fired from the ocean —"

“Do not try to convince me that Russian Navy is at fault here."  The general took another step forward and pressed the barrel against Malcolm's forehead, the metal cold on his skin.   Malcolm closed his eyes began to pray.  There was nothing else for him to do.  He had come so close and now it appeared that everything would end with a single gunshot.  He had failed his people.  He had failed his ancestors, he had failed
Allah
.  When the gunshot never came, he opened his eyes slowly.

A Russian soldier whispered into the Kristanoff’s ear.

The general and the soldier spoke back and forth in that guttural language of theirs for a few moments, before the general's face softened.  He abruptly pulled the gun from Malcolm's forehead and holstered it.  He took a deep breath and said, "You are not worth bullet.  I will save for enemies truly worthy of killing.  Like Americans.”  Malcolm was quick to notice Kristanoff’s hand remained on the pistol grip. 

"I have no time to deal with you and your traitorous men.  Americans are upon us.  Mark my words,
Brother
Malcolm," the general said with a sneer.  "If we are to survive this, you and I will have words.  I have lost too many men to let this go."  Before Malcolm could say anything in response, the general turned and shouted something to the room which drew immediate attention.  He circled his arm above his head, spoke one more command, and every Russian dropped what he was doing, grabbed a weapon, and began to stream out of the building.

In a few moments, Malcolm was left in sole possession of the office building.  He walked over to the window and looked down, thankful his heart rate began to slow.  Russians poured out of the doors to the building like a flood of red-brown mud and mounted transports in the streets.

Malcolm felt the floor shudder.  He looked up the street to the west and could see the ghostly image of a tank as it emerged from a cloud of smoke.  He heard muffled shouts from the street as the Russians not yet in their vehicles began to panic.  The tank fired again and he saw glass shatter and fall from office buildings down the street.  Below him, the last transport erupted into a ball of fire and smoke.  He could see flaming debris—and what he thought was a boot—sail past his window. 

Time to go.
  Malcolm turned and grabbed an abandoned satellite phone from the nearest desk and sprinted for the exit.  He had a phone call to make.

DANIEL LOOKED UP FROM the latest intel reports when a staffer handed him a secured phone.  He arched an eyebrow as he took the phone.  It still felt odd to have even limited satellite capabilities after months of nothing. 

The young woman mouthed the word ‘Malcolm’ and backed away.

Daniel nodded, cleared his throat, and spoke into the phone. "Hello?  Who am I speaking with?"

"Hello, Mr. Suthby.  This is Malcolm."

"Ah, the infamous Malcolm.  At last, we speak with each other.  I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this is not President Suthby.  I am Daniel Jones, the President's Chief of Staff."

"
I have no time for these foolish games—put the President on the line.  Now,
" growled Malcolm's voice. 

"That won't be possible, Malcolm,” Daniel said.  "The President is…currently
indisposed
—let's put it that way.  I am handling all of his affairs of state for the time being.  So, anything you have say to him, you may say to me…in all confidence, of course."

"
Of course
," said the voice on the other end.  It fairly dripped sarcasm.  "
It makes no difference.  I have no time to deal with this foolishness.  Contact your President and tell him that if his offer of a truce still stands, I wish
—"

Daniel gasped theatrically.  "If the offer of a truce still stands?  Surely you jest?  You come to us
now?
  You've been betrayed by your friends!  The Russians—oh, I know all about them—are evacuating the southern portion of Manhattan.  What makes you think we should take you at your word now, when you only come to us after having been abandoned?"

The silence on the other end of the phone gratified Daniel to no end.  He smiled.  "Hello?  What have you to say for yourself now?  We came to you with an offer of peace.  We came to you, in order to—"

“
I know exactly what you came to me for!
" Malcolm said.  "
You sought to take advantage of us, you sought to crush this rebellion so that you may turn your attention to foreign-policy matter
s."

Daniel nodded, despite himself.  "Be that as it may," said Daniel smoothly, "you believed that you were in a position of power and completely ignored us.  Why should we bother to listen to you now?”

"How do you—
"

"We are no longer the helpless government you knew."  Daniel leaned back in the chair, put the phone on speaker, and laced his fingers behind his head.  He was going to enjoy this.  "Since you last talked with President Suthby, we've begun reviving power stations around the country.  That's right, Philadelphia and handful of other cities now have power.  Lights, electricity, air-conditioning,
civilization
.  We are clawing ourselves back into the light, Malcolm, and pretty soon we won’t need your assistance for anything.  In fact, shortly we’ll be able to not only handle the foreign threat, but we will resolve this little… rebellion of yours once and for all." 

There
, thought Daniel.
Let him chew on that for a moment.
  He could hear shouts in the background from Malcolm's connection. 
Where the hell are you?

"
What you say is the truth.  By Allah's will, we have been brought to this low station.
"  There was no arrogance anymore in Malcolm's voice.  Only humility.  Daniel couldn't place why, but that enraged him.

"So now you come slinking to me, asking for help?"

"
No, I come slinking to President Suthby, asking for
his
help.
"

Daniel was not pleased.  "I shall do my best to control my emotions and do what is right for the country.  For
both
of us.  Despite the fact that you have scoffed at our overtures of peace, I will be the better man and offer you the olive branch once more."

"Thank you."

"What's that noise I hear?  Are you near the fighting?”

"
No
," said Malcolm's voice.  "
The Russians are evacuating.  Your Army has scared them half to death.  They are fleeing
—"

"Yes, I know.  I've seen the images from the drones we have overhead.  That's neither here nor there.  We will deal with them when the time comes."

"What do you propose, then?"

At last, the heart of the matter.  Daniel looked at the map on the far wall.  A few days earlier, Florida had been cut in half with a red marker, from Tamp to the Atlantic coast, straight through Orlando.  All points south were controlled by the Russians.  Now the entire state of Florida was one red smear on the map.  His gaze swept up the coast to New York City, where there was another red stain that covered parts of northern New Jersey as well.  The Russian threat must be neutralized first.  An idea came to Daniel that would possibly solve all of their problems.

"You and your people desire your own land, correct?"

"You know this to be true."

Good, he sounds depressed, defeated.  Exactly the mental state I want him in.
  "Here's what I propose.  Get as many of your people out of New York as you can—I will hold off the military and forbid them from attacking your people.  Get them out and get them south.  How is up to you—all of this is completely off the books, mind you.  I cannot have our military transporting known rebels across the country."

"Transport?  Where?  Where would you have us go?  I have—"

"Florida."  Daniel sat back again and waited for the response.  Malcolm took his time thinking it over.

"
Florida?  Why?
"

"Florida now resides in the hands of the Russians.  Thanks to President Suthby’s deal with the United Nations.  I want it back.  You want land.  We were
both
betrayed by the Russians.  We
both
want revenge."

"To what end?"

Daniel chuckled.  "Malcolm, my dear man, the end that all of us require.  Your people require living space.  Florida has been all but depopulated, thanks to our Russian friends and President Suthby's evacuation order.  So what are we left to do?  Get your people Florida, raise your little rebellion down there, and take the state back.  If you are successful in getting the Russians to leave, you can have it."

"All of Florida?"

Daniel took a sip of water from a glass on his desk.  "Let's not be hasty.  I will personally guarantee you that any territory you capture from the Russians—including major cities—you can keep when this is all over.  Florida has already been severed from the United States and given to the United Nations.   I have no interest in forcing it back into the United States as a whole unit.  However it would go a long way towards satisfying the voters if we were at least able to bring at least
part
of Florida back into the Union.  When all this is said and done, of course."

"What you get out of it?"

"What I get out of it, my dear Malcolm, is removing one prong of a two-front invasion by the Russians.  Without their bases in Florida, we will be able to handle the Russians in New York all the more easy.  When they have been dealt with, I will turn the full brunt of our military on the Chinese invasion of the southwest.  That, Malcolm, is what I get out of it.  It's what America gets out of it.  Really, it's a win-win situation.  You get living space, international recognition—provided by yours truly—and I get the Russians out of my hair so I can focus on the real threat."