Patriots Unleashed

by Robert Boren

  Jason sat on the couch. “There’s a movement of enemy fighters from Santa Fe to the I-25 and I-40 junction.”

  “Shit,” Carrie said, her brow furrowed. “They aren’t coming further south, are they?”

  “We don’t think so, but we’ll watch the apps,” Jason said. “I’ll have my phone right next to me tonight.”

  “If we get buzzed, they’ll only be half a mile away. Is that enough time?”

  “We have half of the Mescalero tribe with us, plus all of our firepower. They’d have to send their entire force down here, and that might not be enough to beat us.”

  “Might be enough to kill a lot of us, though,” Carrie said, sitting next to him.

  “I know, honey, but I just don’t see them doing it. They’re smart enough to realize the danger they’ve been put in. If we shut down I-40 the way we shut down I-25, they can’t use New Mexico to resupply their forces anymore. That could cause them to lose the whole damn war. I think their objective right now is to stop us from hitting I-40, not to attack us.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said, leaning against him.

  “How are you doing?” Jason asked, searching her eyes. “How’s the stress level?”

  “Pegged, but I have more problems when I try to keep it down than when I just take a realistic view of everything,” Carrie said.

  “Kate still wants to get pregnant again, as soon as possible. Kyle and I were just talking about it.”

  “You give him any advice? Carrie asked.

  “Yeah, I told him I’d talk her out of it,” Jason said.

  “Do you wish I wasn’t pregnant?”

  Jason was quiet for a moment.

  “That answer is taking too long,” Carrie said.

  Jason sighed. “I’m glad we’re having another child, believe me.”

  “But you’re worried,” Carrie said.

  “How could I not be?” Jason asked.

  “Kate won’t want to put it off,” Carrie said.

  “That’s what Kyle thinks. I’m not gonna worry about it.”

  Carrie chuckled. “You worry about everybody. You’re still worried about Rachel.”

  “I know, but Kyle made a good point about all of this, so I should just back off.”

  “What was that?”

  “You know,” Jason said. “We’ve talked about it. Miscarriages happen for all sorts of reasons. It might not be the war. It might just be defects in the pregnancy.”

  “Oh,” Carrie said. “That’s true. Can we go to bed now? I want to cuddle for a while and forget this damn war.”

  “So would I,” he said, standing up. He took her by the hand and they went into the bedroom.

  Chapter 11 – Globalist Treachery

  “Son of a bitch,” Nelson said, looking at the drone video of the South Padre Island base on the console screen. Hendrix and Ramsey shot each other a nervous glance.

  “You’d better calm down, boss,” Ramsey said.

  Nelson ignored the comment, face red with concern and anger. “Do we know if they got out alive?”

  “If they did, they’re on foot,” Wallis said. “It gets worse. Enemy choppers were seen in the area a couple hours ago.”

  “They didn’t escape in their boats?” Nelson asked.

  “Look, boss,” Ramsey said, getting up and pointing on the console. “There’s what’s left of one, and over here is what’s left of the other. Hard to tell unless you focus.”

  “Dammit,” Nelson said. “Yeah, I see what you’re talking about. So as of this point, we don’t even know if they’re alive. At best they’re running blind, with no apps, because they had to dive off the docks to keep from being blown up.”

  “That’s my assessment,” Wallis said.

  “What do you suggest we do?” Hendrix asked.

  “I want to send commandos down there to find them,” Gallagher said. “We’ve got some good people in the National Guard.”

  “What are they doing now?” Nelson asked.

  “Working the Dallas problem,” Gallagher said. “There aren’t any good choices here, Governor. Wish there were.”

  “Maybe we should call one of the Fort Stockton folks,” Hendrix said.

  “Why?” Ramsey asked.

  “They can check to see if we’ve got enemy fighters there,” Hendrix said.

  “Those people had a rough day, and it’s past midnight,” Ramsey said.

  “Sorry, but this situation trumps that,” Nelson said. “Call one of them and have them check. Not Jason, though, okay? He needs to recharge.”

  “Who do you suggest?” Ramsey asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nelson said. “Not Curt. Maybe Kyle or Junior.”

  “How about Don?” Hendrix asked.

  “Let him rest up,” Ramsey said. “That social media team needs to hit the ground running in the morning.”

  “Okay, then call Junior,” Hendrix said.

  “Yeah, he’s a good choice,” Gallagher said. “Want me to call him?”

  “Sure,” Ramsey said. “Patch him in.”

  Gallagher fiddled with his phone, bringing up his contacts. He hit Junior’s and waited as it rang. Junior answered.

  “Junior?” Gallagher asked. He held his phone away from his ear for a second, chuckling. Then he put it back to his ear. “Sorry, I know it’s late. We need some help. I’m going to patch you into a meeting. Hold on.”

  There was a click.

  “Hear us, Junior?” Gallagher asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry. I don’t always wake up nice.”

  “It’s okay, Junior,” Nelson said. “This is the Governor.”

  “Yes sir,” Junior said. “Sorry. What do you need?”

  “We need somebody to check the area around South Padre Island for enemy fighters.”

  “Uh oh, something go wrong with the base down there?”

  “Yeah, it was blown off the face of the earth,” Gallagher said. “We don’t know if any of our patrol boaters survived. We just want to make sure there isn’t an enemy team on the ground looking for them.”

  “Got it,” Junior said. “Nobody on the ground around there. Shit.”

  “What?” Gallagher asked.

  “There’s a few boatloads just off El Mezquital,” he said. “south of the border. You might want to get somebody down there to sink those suckers.”

  “Dammit,” Wallis said. “I’m gonna go call my contact in the Navy.” He got up and left the screen.

  “Uhhhhh, something has changed since last time I looked at this area,” Junior said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Matamoros had a shit-load of cretins last time I looked. Now there’s just a handful.”

  “We’re getting hit all along the southwestern border now,” Gallagher said.

  “Let me check that,” Junior said. “Whoa. What’s going on in Big Bend?”

  “We’re building up some forces there,” Ramsey said.

  “Well I hope you have at least twenty thousand people there, because I’m seeing fifteen thousand enemy fighters just across the river.”

  “Shit,” Ramsey said.

  “What part?” Gallagher asked.

  “Where the National Park is,” Junior said. “Damn feds will probably lay out the welcome mat if they’re still there.”

  “They’re not,” Nelson said. “Gallagher, can we spare enough people to shore that up?”

  “No, but we’ll have to,” Gallagher said. “We need our people back from New Mexico, and we need the social media team helping us with Dallas.”

  “Not Big Bend?” Nelson asked.

  Hendrix shook his head. “You want the civilians in Dallas, not there.”

  “Why?” Ramsey asked.

  “I know why,” Junior said. “That part of Big Bend is remote as hell. You should send a well-equipped military down there, and let the citizens drive their frigging cars on the nice highways into Dallas.”

  Gallagher chuckled. “You sure you don’t want a job,
Junior?”

  Junior laughed. “My rap sheet would probably prevent me from joining the military, chief.”

  Nelson shook his head and laughed. “I always enjoy talking to you, Junior. You see any other areas of concern?”

  “Yeah, you’ve got movement of enemy forces north in Mexico, on highways 490, 450, and 45. Looks to me like they’re heading to Chihuahua. If they start going past that, I’d say they were making a run for New Mexico or Arizona.”

  “We saw an inkling of that the other day,” Ramsey said. “What kind of numbers are you seeing?”

  “They’re trying to hide themselves. They’re spaced out well.”

  “Give us a guess,” Nelson said.

  “Fifty thousand,” Junior said.

  “What?” Hendrix asked.

  “You heard me,” Junior said. “They’re stopping in Chihuahua, though. Maybe they’ll be deployed someplace else from there.”

  “I doubt it,” Gallagher said. “Anybody got anything else for Junior?”

  “Not I,” the Governor said. “Anybody else?”

  Nobody said anything.

  “Okay, Junior, thanks,” Gallagher said. “Sorry to wake you.”

  “No problem,” Junior said. “Sorry I was a little upset.”

  “Talk to you later, Junior,” Nelson said.

  Junior’s call ended.

  “This isn’t a good situation,” Ramsey said.

  “No, it’s not,” Nelson said. “We’re getting run ragged, and we don’t have the resources that we need. I wish we would’ve re-taken South Padre Island.”

  “Too hard to hold for no strategic value,” Gallagher said. “At least that was the case after the US Navy started helping us.

  Wallis came back onto the screen, his face grim. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Nelson just stared at the screen for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair, his hand shaking. Ramsey and Hendrix looked at each other, and then Hendrix got up to look for Dr. Schultz.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Nelson said. “I’m just frustrated.”

  “I’m bringing the doc in here anyway,” Hendrix said.

  “All right, all right,” Nelson said, watching Hendrix rush out of the room. He looked at Wallis. “Let’s hear the bad news.”

  “The assholes running Europe are helping the Federal Government with a bunch of navy ships. I guess the President finally figured out that he no longer controls the US Navy. There’s a battle brewing, and our president is on the side of foreigners.”

  A sweat broke out on Nelson’s forehead. “Which European countries are we talking about?”

  “All but the Brits,” Wallis said, “and half of the British Navy has been destroyed. This is a big EU operation.”

  “Damn Globalists riding to the rescue, huh?” Nelson asked.

  “So it would appear,” Wallis said. “The US Navy pulled their ships out of the Gulf of Mexico yesterday.”

  “Nice of them to let us know,” Gallagher said as Hendrix came back in with Dr. Schultz.

  “I’m okay, really,” Nelson said. Schultz ignored him and held up a blood pressure cuff.

  “Stick out your arm, Governor. That’s an order.”

  Nelson shook his head and chuckled. “All right.” He leaned back in the chair. Dr. Schultz got to work. “Let’s keep the conversation going, gentlemen.”

  “Sounds to me like South Padre Island just got more important than it was,” Hendrix said.

  “I agree,” Wallis said.

  “What’s the status on the new patrol boats?” Gallagher asked.

  “Ready to go, but we have no crews left,” Wallis said. “I say we use the Texas Air National Guard down there.”

  “We were warned against that, weren’t we?” Hendrix asked.

  Nelson chuckled as Dr. Schultz finished with the blood pressure check.

  “You’re fine,” he said. “Just try to stay as calm as you can.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Hendrix said.

  “I’ll stick around if you don’t mind,” Schultz said.

  “By all means,” Nelson said.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be worried about what the Feds or the UN thinks about our air national guard right now,” Wallis said.

  “Yeah, how much worse can they hurt us?” Gallagher asked.

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Nelson said. “Divert some of our fighter jets and attack choppers to the South Padre Island area, and have them ready to go up as far as Houston.”

  “Will do,” Wallis said, “and I’ll have a chat with the US Airforce too. They might be willing to help.”

  Chapter 12 – Bicycles

  Madison woke up, laying against Juan Carlos in the filthy storage room behind the bar. Lita was sleeping a few feet away, Brendan and Hannah a few feet beyond them. It was just past dawn. Juan Carlos stirred, turning towards her.

  “Hey, sweetie,” he said. “Sleep any?”

  “Yeah, I just woke up,” Madison said. “Richardson isn’t in here.”

  “He’s probably out keeping watch. Haven’t heard those choppers for a while, at least. They didn’t land any troops.”

  “Why do you say that?” Madison asked.

  “Because they would’ve found us by now. It’s been several hours.”

  “Oh,” she said, watching as he got up. “Where are you going?”

  “Out to find Richardson,” Juan Carlos said, checking his pistol.

  “I’m going too,” she whispered.

  Juan Carlos nodded, and they slipped out of the storage room, into the bar with its large windows overlooking the inlet.

  “He’s not out here,” Madison said.

  “I’ll bet he’s on the rooftop deck.” They walked to the staircase near the restroom hallway and climbed as quietly as they could. Richardson was on the south side of the deck, looking with binoculars. He heard them coming, whirling around with a pistol in his hand.

  “Don’t shoot,” Juan Carlos whispered loud.

  “Check this out,” Richardson said, motioning them over. He handed the binoculars to Juan Carlos, who took a look.

  “Where’d you get the binoculars?” Madison asked.

  “In the office downstairs,” Richardson said.

  “Shit. Those are Viet Nam era ships. Venezuelan, probably.”

  “Yep, that’s what I’m thinking,” Richardson whispered.

  “What does that mean?” Madison asked.

  “It means either that we lost our US Navy protection, or these guys are taking a huge risk,” Richardson whispered. “They’re getting ready to land troops. We need to find a better place to hide, or a way to cross over to the mainland.”

  “I wish we still had our weapons,” Juan Carlos said.

  “Probably better that we don’t,” Richardson said. “There’s way too many of them. We’d just die fighting. Better to chuck it and escape. Live to fight another day.”

  “Not having that phone really sucks,” Madison said. “That rice thing work?”

  “No,” Richardson said. “At least not yet.”

  “I’m surprised we haven’t been rescued yet,” Juan Carlos said.

  “The leadership team might think we’re dead,” Richardson said. “I’m sure they’ve been flying drones overhead.”

  “And if we try to make ourselves seen, the enemy will show up,” Madison said. “Dammit.”

  “Yes, we’re in somewhat of a pickle,” Richardson said, taking the binoculars back from Juan Carlos and offering them to Madison. She shook her head no, so he put them back to his eyes. “Dammit. Go get the others up.”

  “What?” Madison asked.

  “There’s several inflatables being dropped overboard. They’re sending a landing party.”

  “I was afraid that was what they were doing,” Juan Carlos said. “That’s why I kept watching.”

  “We need to get north as fast as we can,” Richardson said.

  “I’ll go wake the others,” Juan Carlos said, rushing for the stairs, Ma
dison on his heels. They burst into the storage room behind the bar.

  “Get up,” Madison cried. “We’ve got to leave right now. Landing party on the way.”

  “Shit,” Brendan said, leaping to his feet, pulling up Hannah. Lita got up as Richardson rushed in, binoculars hanging on his neck. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Lita asked.

  “The only place we can go is north,” he said. “Maybe we can find a better place to hide.”

  “They’re going to find us eventually,” Hannah said.

  “Not if I can help it,” Brendan said, checking his pistol. “Let’s go.”

  They rushed out onto Laguna Boulevard and ran north.

  “Hey, look, there’s a bicycle shop,” Lita said, pointing.

  “Good, maybe there are some bikes that aren’t trashed,” Hannah said. “The windows are broken.”

  They ran over, stepping into the storefront, looking at the rows of bikes.

  “They look good to me,” Richardson said. “C’mon.”

  They all found bikes they could use.

  “Carry them past the broken glass, and then avoid it on the road,” Brendan said.

  “This bike has a pump and a tire repair kit,” Juan Carlos said.

  “Yeah, same with this one,” Lita said. “C’mon, hurry.”

  They rushed out, carrying their bikes, getting past the worst of the broken glass, then mounting up and riding.

  “This will buy us some time,” Richardson said as they pedaled, racing past the broken storefronts.

  “Once we get past the buildings they’re going to see us,” Madison said.

  “Yeah, but we’re making good time,” Richardson said, “and we’re faster on these things than they can go in an inflatable.”

  “Oh, I’d say we’re pretty evenly matched,” Juan Carlos said. “Some of those inflatables can go thirty-five miles per hour.”

  “Those weren’t high quality,” Richardson said. “Got a good look at them before I left the roof. They’re junk. They’ll be lucky to get past twenty.”

  “Hope you’re right,” Brendan said. “We don’t want to get going too fast. These tires will puncture at the drop of a hat, with all this debris on the road.”

  “It looks better up ahead, though, see?” Lita said. “Maybe the enemy didn’t come up this far.”

  They continued down the street, the wind blowing through their hair, the sun warming the air.