by Trent Reedy
“Hey, Wright …” Cal’s boot scraped the ground. “Hey. You know.”
Becca wrapped Cal in a big hug, leaning her head on his chest and looking at me. “Cal’s sorry for getting so mad at you last night.”
The big guy shrugged. “I get what you were saying. I just …”
“It’s cool, dude,” I said. Cal and I had argued before. What friends hadn’t? But we never stayed mad for long.
Cal coughed and nodded toward JoBell’s .50-cal rifle. “How you holding up with that big thing?”
“There’s nothing I can’t hit with this baby.”
I bit my lip. It wasn’t “things” she’d be shooting at today.
“It’s five a.m. TJ, Sparrow, and Kemp have the vehicle up and running. We gotta get going,” said Sweeney. The war had taken away the smooth-talking ladies’ man, leaving this sharp-looking Asian kid dressed all in black, carrying an M4 with a nine mil in a leg holster.
“I wish there was some way I could get you guys out of this,” I said. “Give you back your normal lives somehow.”
“We’re with you all the way, brother,” Cal said. He strummed his M240 like a guitar.
“Yeah, dude,” Sweeney said. “No matter how you think this all went down, we got into it together. Long as we got each other’s backs, we’ll always come out on top.”
Becca and JoBell nodded in agreement.
A lot of people were going to die today. And I would do my damnedest to make sure most of the bodies belonged to the enemy.
Back at the house, Sergeant Kemp, Specialist Sparrow, and TJ met us out front by a Humvee that the Brotherhood had stolen from the Fed. A year ago, I would have wished TJ wasn’t coming along, but the guy had really done an awesome job throughout the war. He’d risked his ass by staying in the civilian world with the Fed everywhere, moving information and building a network of resistance. Today he would put that network to use. I was glad to have him on my team.
Crow marched across the gravel lot toward the house, all business. “Sergeant Kemp, is your team ready for Operation Flashpoint?”
“Roger that,” said the sergeant.
“Private Wright?”
“We’re up, but I still think it’s weird they’re naming the whole operation after us.”
Crow smiled. “It’s not named after you. You’re just kicking it off, so we might as well give you the call sign. If you’re ready, I’ll call in the perimeter guard.” He smoothed his mustache. “We’re going to need every man.”
“And woman,” JoBell said.
Crow ignored her. “My unit will be in position for phase two by the time you give the signal.”
“Roger that,” I said.
“Let’s squeeze into the clown car, then,” said Sergeant Kemp.
This time Kemp had picked Cal for our driver. He climbed in behind the wheel, placing his M240 in the little flat space to his right. Kemp went around to the co-driver seat up front. The rest of my team moved into their places. TJ was assigned to the dinky SAW in the gun turret. Sparrow squeezed in next to him to man the turret’s .50-cal.
She grabbed my arm and stopped me before I took my seat. “Listen. I know we both want Alsovar dead. The first one who sees him, shoots him. That’s it. No heroics. No speeches. No extra risk. It won’t do any good to die before we can take him out.”
“Yes, Specialist,” I said. She started toward the Humvee. “Sparrow?” She stopped and faced me. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I said.
“No.” She narrowed her eyes.
I nodded, and the two of us took our positions in the armored Humvee, heading back into the war.
—• All Idaho units, all Idaho units. This is rattlesnake two two. Rattlesnake two two is go to execute firing sequence. Rattlesnake two two, out. •—
—• As you can see, Tom, the scuttled barges that have sealed off the Columbia/Snake River corridor for months are nearly cleared. Soon this portion of the river will be navigable again, allowing these four warships to continue upstream to Lewiston, Idaho, a city held by insurgents but completely surrounded by US military forces since they entered northern Idaho back in November. Each of these ships is equipped with a fifty-seven-millimeter gun firing thirteen-pound shells, four fifty-caliber heavy machine guns, two thirty-millimeter chain guns, a surface-to-air missile system, a rocket launcher, and two well-armed helicopters. All of that, in addition to possibly a hundred troops on each ship, will present a serious challenge for rebels holding out in Lewiston, Idaho. •—
—• from an antique computer I found in the basement of the Royal Oak Public Library in Detroit. I couldn’t use my comm or a screen at my house to make this recording for fear of being branded a rebel by the Unity Act. But I’m not a rebel. None of us in the Videos for Peace Campaign are rebels. We only want a cease-fire. This video campaign is a virtual peace rally that doesn’t break the law against large meetings. I’m asking you. We’re all begging the leaders of this country to please stop the fighting. This isn’t about politics. It’s about saving our society for future generations. •—
—• All units, all units, this is talon five one. In position. Target in sight. Talon five one, out. •—
—• It’s 8:47 a.m. here in New York. Thanks for joining us on NBC’s Every Day. At the top of the hour, we’ll be joined by chef Wynn Haverly, who will show us some ways to make our food budget stretch further — an important skill as the national unrest has created food shortages in a number of cities. But first, leading our news this morning, the country waits with bated breath as Oklahoma governor Martha Fergus is still behind closed doors, trying to decide whether to sign her state’s nullification bill. After President Griffith’s address to the nation last night and with reports of military movement around the country, many worry that Governor Fergus’s signing of the bill would result in the Idaho conflict expanding to other parts of the nation. For more on that, we go to •—
When we reached our destination, TJ left to implement his part of the plan, Sparrow stayed in the turret, and Kemp moved behind the wheel of the parked Humvee. The rest of us made our way up the freezing cold steel lattice of one of the legs of the Freedom Lake water tower. I led the way with JoBell just below me. Next came Sweeney, Becca, and then Cal.
Sweeney and I had climbed the water tower once before, on a bet the summer after sophomore year. A couple of guys had put down fifty bucks, saying that we’d chicken out or get busted before we made it to the little ledge that circled the base of the big water tank. After we climbed all the way up there, ran around the tower a couple times, took a few pics with our comms, and came back down, the guys refused to pay us. They changed their minds after we kicked their asses. Now we were climbing this stupid thing again to kick some Fed ass instead.
The lattice bars were slanted, and that meant my feet were always wedged in the sharp point at the bottom of a diamond shape. The real freaky part was up near the top where I had to switch from the lattice to a rinky-dink ladder that shook and rattled a little as I crawled up to the platform. When I’d made it up there, I stayed low to the steel floor and away from the edge to keep out of sight. Our target was on the other side of the tank, but who knew when a Fed patrol might look up and see us? This mission was crazy dangerous. JoBell handed up the huge .50-cal rifle. I’d offered to sling that heavy thing over my shoulder for the climb, but she’d insisted on carrying it and four ten-round magazines. She lay down where I pointed as I helped Sweeney up.
“Just like old times, right, buddy?” He sounded jokey but looked totally serious. He leaned against the steel wall of the tank, powering up his comm. Becca made it up next, her M4 hung over her back like Sweeney’s. She crouched down and powered up my comm. I looked down the hatch. Cal hadn’t even reached the ladder yet.
“Come on, Cal,” I hissed. “We’re gonna be late. This ain’t Mr. Hornschlager’s chemistry class. We can’t miss our time hack.”
Cal didn’t answer. Sweat rolled down his pale face and he bit his lip, climbin
g the lattice with shaking hands. The M240 was dangling from his shoulder by its strap.
“Hank, answer me quietly. What time is it?” I asked.
“You’re out on the range early, partner. It’s 5:51 in the morning. How’d you like to hear a little wake-up music?”
“Hank, you ask me to listen to one more song, I swear I’ll shoot you.”
“Ouch. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the saddle.”
“Cal! Move your ass!” I said.
He was even slower on the ladder. “Wright, are you sure this thing will even hold my weight?”
“I’m looking at the bolts right now,” I said. “They’re fine. You’re fine. But you have to hurry.”
Finally, he was close enough that Sweeney and I could help him up to the platform.
“5:55,” Becca whispered. “Let’s get in position.”
Our mission had three parts. First, we had to broadcast a good dramatic show to signal the start of the larger mission against the Fed. Then we’d fire down on Alsovar’s little Main Street base from about the only vantage point we could get. Finally, Sweeney needed a clear view of the Fed outpost for what he had to do.
“Sweeney, you all set?” I asked.
He stared at his comm, carefully and slowly swiping his fingers on the screen. “I never played a video game like this before,” he said. “But I’ve taken control of the drone from our friends in Boise. It’s about two minutes to the ski lodge, and the drone is packing two Hellfire missiles. One will blast a hole in the mountaintop fence to let our guys in. The other will take out the guard shack at the main entrance. After the missiles go off, I’ll have the drone here in about thirty seconds.”
“Good luck.” I went to the others.
JoBell was lying down in the prone with the .50-cal rifle resting on its bipod. She had an awesome new scope for it. The Brotherhood guys said it was one of the best optics available. She looked so comfortable, so professional, set up there to kill. I hated that it had to be this way.
Cal set his machine gun up on its own bipod, his spare belts of ammo at the ready. “Remember, Cal,” I said. “Hold down the trigger while you say, ‘Die, bastards, die.’ Then let up a second before you fire again. That way you won’t overheat your barrel.” Concentration had replaced his fear. He gave a thumbs-up and took aim.
“We’re all set, Danny,” said Becca. “I have the uplink, so we can broadcast your message whenever you’re ready. Four minutes to go. Should we do this?”
I stood up by the steel railing. Major Alsovar’s cop shop was three blocks behind me down below, its American flag fluttering in the breeze.
“Roll it,” I said to Becca. She tapped the screen and then pointed the comm at me. I took a deep breath. God, please give me the right words. “I am Private Daniel Wright, a soldier in the Army of the Republic of Idaho. President Montaine has asked me to speak to you today about the United States. I used to be a proud soldier in the Idaho National Guard, under the command of both Governor James Montaine and President Rodriguez. I loved my state, and I loved my country just as much.” I felt the anger build up when I thought of all they’d taken from me. “Then the United States Army started coming after me. They killed my mother. They locked me in a room and tortured me and my friend. They’ve tortured all of us, keeping us trapped in our own homes, not allowing us to go anywhere or do anything. We’re supposed to have rights. We’re supposed to be free. But you show me a place in the entire United States where our rights aren’t being spit on. No freedom of speech. No freedom of assembly or movement. The Unity Act turns our whole Bill of Rights into a list of wrongs. That’s why Idaho had to break free.”
I squeezed my hands into fists. An explosion rocked the distance. Then another. Sweeney had fired his two Hellfire missiles. He’d have the drone here in half a minute.
“Enough! United States Army, go back where you came from and leave us alone! We’re not doing things your way anymore. We will not back down. We will not give up. We will never surrender. Some people call this the Idaho Crisis, but we haven’t even started.” I held my left fist up at an angle above my head. “Rise up, Idaho! People everywhere, rise up and fight. We will give them a war! Rise up! Rise up! Rise up!”
I screamed the last part to be heard over the shriek of the incoming aircraft. A huge blast thundered behind me. I could see the light shining off the water tower and the back of my comm in Becca’s hands, but I didn’t turn around to see the explosion. Instead, I glared at the camera.
“Cut! We’re clear!” Becca slipped the comm into her pocket. I spun to check out the explosion at last. Sweeney had put the drone through the giant fuel tank in the Fed HQ, and the place was now a hellish mess of fire.
The loud crack of gunfire pierced my eardrums. Two more shots. “Here they come!” JoBell fired three more shots.
“Roof of the thrift shop!” Cal rained a shower of bullets down on the Fed guards who tried to shoot us. “Waste ’em!”
“There’s the Brotherhood!” I said. Men with black armbands rushed up Main Street, storming the front gate of the cop shop.
A couple rounds hit the water tank a few feet away, and freezing cold streams of water sprayed out. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “This is a bad position. We’re going to get hit, or we’ll hit the Brotherhood.” I shoved Becca back toward the ladder. “JoBell, you’re next. Cal will cover us.”
“He’s not accurate,” she yelled. “You guys go. I’m right behind you.” She fired off the rest of the rounds in her magazine and switched it out for another. Then she sighted the last Fed on the thrift shop roof across the street from the burning HQ. In one trigger squeeze, she ripped his head off his shoulders.
“Cal, get out of here!” I grabbed his shirt and pulled him up. He slung his machine gun and ammo. “Careful. Hot barrel.”
I dropped down next to JoBell and started picking off targets as they tried to flee the fire bowl made by the Hesco barriers that surrounded the cop shop. My scope wasn’t as powerful as hers, but I could see plenty good from this range. I put a round dead center mass on one soldier and dropped him on his back. His chest plate must have saved him, because he started to get up. I put a second round through his crotch. Blood burst everywhere as he screamed.
Then I caught a glimpse of Alsovar, climbing over the top of the Hesco barrier farthest from the fire. I had seconds. Aim. Fire! “Damn!” I must have jerked the trigger too hard, pulled off my shot. “Come on, JoBell. We gotta go. Alsovar’s getting away!”
We both rolled to our feet and ran back toward the ladder. I could see and hear shots ringing out all over. At least four different Fed Humvees across town were up in flames. TJ had done his job coordinating the homemade bomb attacks. Guns had been distributed to people we could trust, and they’d set up sniper positions everywhere. With my call, all of Freedom Lake had become an endless series of death traps for the Fed.
I followed JoBell down the leg of the water tower as fast as I could, nearly slipping off the cold steel a couple times. As I reached the ground, a low, dull roar was building up in the distance, getting louder and louder as something came closer.
Sparrow, still in the turret of our Humvee, pointed the .50-cal as high as it would go. An F-22 whipped past overhead and then seemed to bank left for a second before cutting back hard to the right. Another jet, maybe an F-35, dove for it from a lot higher up. Smoke puffed out from under the F-35. The F-22 ripped in half, exploding into a ball of flames as one of its engines and part of its wing spun away. The F-35 vanished in the distance seconds later.
“Danny, come on!” JoBell leaned out the backseat of the Humvee.
“Get down!” Sparrow cranked her body to rotate the turret and aim the .50-cal right at me. I hit the dirt as she opened up, then rolled to see what she was shooting at. A Fed squad had moved into position behind some dumpsters and other junk at the back of the city water pump house. Fed bullets hit the ground about six feet away as I crawled as fast as I could toward our Humve
e. I’d never been so exposed under fire. If Sparrow hadn’t spotted them and started shooting, I’d be full of holes. Instead, two soldiers became pulp as she sprayed them.
I saw the long barrel of JoBell’s .50-cal rifle poke out the window of the Humvee. Sparrow let up for a second, and as the Feds popped up to take advantage of the break in suppressive fire, JoBell picked them off. Then Sparrow opened up again, and I crouched-ran for the vehicle.
“They’re toast! Forget ’em,” I yelled. I jumped in the backseat while Cal sat behind the wheel. With everyone loaded up, he hit the gas.
—• I sign this nullification bill, outlawing the Federal Identification Card Act in the state of Oklahoma, not as an act of rebellion against the United States, but as a desperate request for the federal government to reconsider its inflexible and overbearing intrusion into our lives. The days of the federal government exercising the sole power of determining which of its own laws are constitutional and which of the states’ laws are not, have come to an end. In order to achieve peace, we must seek a new form of cooperation and compromise. To reach that goal, I ask President Griffith to offer an immediate and unconditional cease-fire to allow for negotiations to resolve the current crisis. But make no mistake. If she does not desire peace, we in Oklahoma are prepared to defend ourselves. •—
—• People of Montana, I address you this morning not only as your leader, but also as a fellow citizen of this great state, on the most important matter facing our people since our state Constitution was ratified in 1889. That document declares as our very first right that all political power is vested in and derived from the people and is instituted for their good. The second right we are promised is that we the people of Montana have the exclusive right of governing ourselves as a free, sovereign, and independent state, that the people may alter or abolish the constitution and form of government whenever they deem it necessary. As our state constitution does not provide a procedure whereby our present form of government may be abolished, and as federal military aggression in our region presents an unacceptable danger, I have consulted with members of the Montana state legislature and with the leadership of the Montana Air and Army National Guards. By a majority vote and with the help of Montana’s military, we have determined that as of seven o’clock this morning, Montana is a free and independent nation, severing all political ties with the United States of America, and willing to defend the sovereignty of our home. I am now Interim President Stan Brenner until such time as presidential elections can be held.
