Patriots United

by Robert Boren

  “They’re gonna see us,” Courtney said, getting lower in her seat.

  “No they aren’t. They’re all watching Jared’s house. They’ve got assault rifles pointing at it.”

  “We need to go,” Courtney said.

  “In a minute,” Jonathan said, pulling his phone out. He sent a text.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m letting Officer Peterson know that there’s three State Police cars at Jared’s house,” Jonathan said. His phone dinged with a reply.

  “Well?”

  “They’re already on the way,” Jonathan said, “with most of the force.”

  Courtney looked shocked. “They’re going to fight the State Police?”

  “They don’t want to be replaced by the UN,” Jonathan said. “They understand what’s going on.”

  Suddenly four Bend Police cruisers raced by them on the tree-lined street, crashing through the barricades, as several more raced up the street from the other direction. Armed officers leapt out of their vehicles.

  “Oh, shit,” Cortney said.

  Jonathan watched, his heart racing. “This is gonna be bad.”

  One of the State Police officers came out with a bull horn. “Stop right there. This is out of your jurisdiction.”

  “Stand down now!” yelled one of the Bend Police officers.

  “We aren’t going to tell you again,” the man with the bull horn said. “We’re here under the authority of the Governor of Oregon.”

  “Screw you,” the police officer shouted back. “We won’t allow the UN to come in here. No way in hell. Stand down or be fired upon.”

  Several State Police officers pointed their guns at the Bend Police, all of whom pulled their weapons.

  “Hold your fire,” the State Police officer said.

  “Stand down immediately,” the Bend Officer shouted again.

  Suddenly one of the State Police officers fired, hitting the Bend Officer. The first State officer dropped his bullhorn and looked at the dead man in terror, then turned to yell at the officer who fired. It was too late. Gunfire erupted from the Bend police, all the State Police officers in sight dropping, most of them dead.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jonathan shouted.

  “No!” Courtney said. They watched as Bend officers rushed into the duplex. Gunfire could be heard from inside, then silence.

  “Geez,” Jonathan said. He watched as the Bend officers came out the front door, followed by Jared and several of his friends.

  “Well, they’re still alive,” Courtney said. “They’re rounding up the State Police officers that are still alive.”

  Jonathan sent another text. They could see an officer pull his phone and look at it. He typed on his phone, then turned towards their truck and motioned them over.

  “C’mon,” Jonathan said, opening his door. His phone dinged with the text.

  “You sure? What if more state cops show up?”

  “There’s enough of our guys here to blast them,” he said, going to the truck bed. He opened the camper shell and grabbed his Mini-14.

  “What are you doing?” Courtney asked.

  “Officer Jenkins said to bring it.”

  “Why, so they can take it away from you?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan said. “C’mon.”

  The two trotted over to the group of officers.

  “Hey, Jonathan,” said Officer Jenkins, a man no older than him. “Thanks for giving us the heads up.”

  “No problem,” Jonathan said. “Jared!”

  Jared looked over and smiled, his right eye blackened, scrapes on his cheeks. “Hey, dude.”

  “What happened to you?” Courtney asked, staring at his battered face.

  “The Oregon State Gestapo,” Jared said, shrugging. “I didn’t get out fast enough.”

  The radio in Jenkin’s car blipped. He rushed over and got it, then came back just as quickly. “They’re at your place now, Jonathan. You can’t go back there.”

  “That means they’ll be here any minute,” Courtney said.

  “You guys going with us to Portland?” Jared asked.

  “We were,” Officer Jenkins said. “Now we’re gonna set up roadblocks to keep the State Police away from Bend. We could use volunteers. Want to be deputized? I think a hundred thousand patriots in Portland is enough.”

  “Deputize us?” Jared asked. “What is this, the old west?”

  Officer Jenkins laughed. “We can still do it, and this is at least as wild as the Wild West now. Gonna get worse before it gets better.”

  “Wait a minute,” said an older man with a lieutenant’s uniform on, walking over. “You sure these guys are okay?”

  “I’ll vouch for them, sir,” Jenkins said. “Known them all my life.”

  “I was kinda looking forward to taking on the UN and the EU Navy,” Jared said.

  The lieutenant studied him for a moment, then shook his head, shooting a side-long glance at Jenkins. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes sir,” Jenkins said. “I know others too. In my gun club, for instance.”

  “Okay, go ahead and recruit them,” he said, turning to Jared. “Look, son, there’s a difference to be made here. I suspect if you tried to go to Portland, you’d be shot on the way in.”

  “We can’t let the UN Peacekeepers get a foothold,” Jared said.

  “And they won’t,” the Lieutenant said. “My brother and sister are both in Portland. There’s more people getting involved than you know. It’s more like two hundred thousand now, and most of the city officials who put martial law in place have gone into hiding. All they have left now is the State Police, and not all of them are towing the line. We’re gonna take this state back, but we need to protect our family and our home. You’re here now and can make a difference. Stay and help us.”

  “You guys can work recruitment for us,” Jenkins said. “You’ve proven yourselves to be good at that, you know.”

  The lieutenant nodded in agreement. One of the other officers rushed over and whispered in his ear. He thanked the officer and picked up the bull horn from next to the dead State Police officer, putting it to his lips. “Find some cover and get ready. State Police and some of their friends are on the way here right now.”

  “Friends?” Jonathan asked. The lieutenant ignored the question as he rushed off to attend to some other officers.

  “C’mon,” Jenkins said. “They’ll head in here on Bend Parkway again.”

  “I’d be ready for them to show up from any direction,” Jared said. “Gotta go get my weapon.” He ran off to the rear of his building.

  “What should I do?” Courtney asked.

  “Get in the basement of Jared’s duplex,” Jonathan said.

  “No way, I’m gonna fight,” she said, “so get used to that. I saw what those women said on the video.”

  “This is why I love you,” Jonathan said.

  Her eyes grew wide. “You love me? You’ve never said that before. Hell, I’ve never said that before.”

  He smiled, pulling her in for a kiss, then getting back and looking at her. “I’m not the greatest communicator. You know that. Let’s go to the truck. You can use the 20-gauge pump. I’ve got about four boxes of shells for that sucker, and it doesn’t kick too hard.”

  “I’ve shot it before, remember?”

  “Yeah, you were better than me at the skeet range,” Jonathan said, taking her by the hand and running to the truck. They grabbed the shotgun and shells, and more ammo for the mini-14. When they got back, Jared was there with a couple more friends, all of them holding M4 variants. They took up positions along the end of Hawthorne Street where it met Hill street, but there weren’t enough good spots.

  “Hey, how about those box cars over there?” Jonathan asked, pointing at them on the tracks across Hill Street.

  “Perfect, but make sure you don’t get seen from the back side,” Jenkins said.

  Jonathan, Courtney, Jared, and several others rushed over there,
getting behind the cars and underneath them, guns aimed up and down the street. State police squad cars and white vans came into view.

  “Look, that’s about twenty vehicles,” Jared said. “What’s with the vans? Never seen them before.”

  “Look at the sides,” Courtney said, squinting to read. “Says UN in blue letters.”

  “Shit, they’re in Bend already?” Jonathan asked.

  “They must’ve been infiltrating us for a while,” Jared said. “Here they come. Lock and load.”

  “Don’t try to hit them with the shotgun until they’re real close,” Jonathan said. “Better yet, save it for when they get out of their vehicles and start running.”

  “I know,” Courtney said, as she fed shells into the gun’s loading gate.

  Gunfire erupted from the other side of the street, hitting the first of the State Police cruisers, stopping them in their tracks. The other vehicles stopped in a panic, trying to get out as a hail of lead came at them.

  “Get those vans!” Jonathan shouted. “It’s the UN!”

  Now everybody was firing, the fronts of all the vehicles getting hit. The side doors of the UN vans opened, men running out towards them. Courtney smiled at Jonathan, then turned and fired, hitting running men one after another until they figured out they’d better take cover.

  “C’mon, let’s go towards them from behind the box cars,” Jared said. “Maybe we can get behind them.”

  “Good idea,” Jonathan said. They ran behind the boxcars in a crouch, getting all the way to Irving Avenue.

  “This is good,” Jared whispered. “See them over there?”

  The three got down on their bellies and opened fire, the UN Peacekeepers and State Police officers looking for cover in a panic, not even trying to return fire. Courtney fired her shotgun with deadly accuracy, dropping several more enemy officers. The remaining UN Peacekeepers bolted and ran, Jonathan and Jared picking them off before they got twenty yards.

  “I think it’s over,” Jonathan whispered, eyes scanning the area. Courtney was doing the same, taking a moment to top up her magazine with shells. Jenkins and several other Bend officers were coming down the street now, rushing from one bit of cover to the next, checking the vehicles.

  “Is it all clear?” Jared shouted.

  “Stay under cover,” one of the officers yelled as he moved forward. A shot rang out, and he dived behind a car, the fire returned from all the cops in the street along with Jonathan and the others by the tracks. Courtney saw several men get up to run, so she bolted forward, firing her shotgun as she ran, dropping several more, Jonathan after her, looking in all directions for more enemy fighters. There was silence for a few moments. Courtney got out of the crouch she was in and walked back towards Jonathan, a smile on her face. Then another shot rang out, and her expression changed. She crumpled to the street. Jonathan saw the UN Peacekeeper who shot her and fired, hitting him square in the chest, then rushing over to Courtney.

  Her eyes were still open, a faint smile coming over her face as she saw him above her. “I got a little of our own back,” she said softly. “I nailed seven of them.”

  “Don’t talk,” Jonathan said, his tears dropping onto her face as he watched her.

  “I love you too,” Courtney whispered. Her body spasmed, and she exhaled, dying as he watched.

  “Oh, no!” Jonathan cried, kissing her forehead, cradling her body as their friends looked on.

  {2}

  The Battle of Portland

  A huge crowd of radicals ringed the Swan Island Basin in Portland, Oregon, many with signs, most wearing all black with masks covering their faces below the eyes. Behind them were several hundred Portland PD officers in riot gear, attempting to stay between them and a growing number of counter-protesters.

  Nathan watched the water nervously as the big EU Navy ship cruised slowly towards the dock. He turned every few seconds to watch the counter-protesters, holding American flags and signs that said NO UN. He was only twenty-five, medium build, tattoos covering his upper arms and neck, large round earrings stretching his lobes.

  “Hey, Sean,” he said quietly. “This makes me nervous. There’s only one way out of here, and that’s more counter protesters than I’ve ever seen before. Why is the Portland PD letting them get so close?”

  Sean’s eyes turned his direction, his cheeks rising under his black bandana, eyes smaller as he laughed. “Rednecks and retired people. I’m gonna break some heads as soon as the UN Peacekeepers show themselves.” He was smaller than Nathan, holding a long stick with finishing nails sticking out a few inches on either end, his medium-length blonde hair shining in the sun.

  “I’m hearing bad rumors,” Nathan said, looking back at the ship as it slowly moved towards the dock, a crew there to grab the ropes. A UN flag rose on the flagpole over the bridge, and a cheer went up from a few thousand black-clad people.

  “Watch those old Nazis crap themselves when the UN Peacekeepers come down the planks,” Sean said.

  “The reactionaries outnumber the police now,” Nathan said. “At least two to one, and they’re still showing up.”

  “And we’ve got sixty thousand UN Peacekeepers getting off that boat,” Sean said. “You worry too much. As soon as we get rough with those old cupcakes, they’ll turn tail and run… and even if they don’t we’ll be protected by the police as usual.”

  “The public is starting to see through this, you know.”

  “So go home, little boy,” Sean said.

  “Hey, we’d better get out of here!” cried a woman in black with a mask, her stringy brown hair hanging around her shoulders. “Look at this.”

  “Shut up, Emily,” Sean said.

  “What do you see?” Nathan asked, rushing over. She held her phone in front of him. It was news-chopper video of the area. There was a vast multitude of people heading in on all streets, crossing North Willamette Boulevard. “My God. How many people is that?”

  “Let me see it,” Sean said, rushing over and looking. He laughed. “You guys are assuming that they’re not on our side.” Emily and Nathan looked at him like he was crazy.

  “We know the community,” Emily said. “If there was this many people coming, we’d have known about it days ago.”

  “Well run along home, then,” Sean said, turning back to the ship. It was tied to the dock now, and the gang plank was being rolled up.

  “Oh, God,” Emily said, looking at her phone again. “Is that another warship. See it? Just getting to Kelley Point Park.”

  “There’s more than one ship in the EU Navy, you idiot,” Sean said, looking over at the counter protesters again. Several black-clad thugs were rushing past the police line, attacking counter protestors as the police stood by and watched. Suddenly the number of counter demonstrators increased and the police loudspeaker warned all the protestors to go back to their sides. Sean ran towards them as Nathan and Emily watched.

  “Moron,” Emily said. “Want to go? No paycheck is worth this.”

  “Dressed like this, we’ll never make it past Willamette,” he said. “C’mon, let’s jump the box factory fence and get on one of the semi-trailers in the yard. We can watch from there, then slip out in the confusion.”

  Emily glanced towards the box factory. “Okay.” They pushed their way towards the fence as most of the black-clad thugs headed to the counter-protester lines. Police began to fire tear gas at the growing crowd of citizens, ignoring the thugs who raced in and attacked them.

  Nathan climbed the fence, turning when he was on the far side to help Emily up. They both hit the pavement of the box factory lot and raced towards the row of semi-trailers parked at the loading docks.

  “There’s one we can get on,” Nathan said, racing towards it, Emily struggling to keep up. He leapt onto a dumpster next to one of them, and jumped, getting a good hand hold and pulling himself up on top. “C’mon, I’ll grab you.”

  Emily looked at him, scared to death, frozen in place.

  “Now, dam
mit!” Nathan shouted.

  She snapped out of it and ran, jumping onto the dumpster, taking Nathan’s hand. He pulled her up, and they both stood.

  “Holy crap,” Emily said, watching the hand-to-hand fighting between the black-clad people, citizens wearing casual clothes, and police, who were firing bean bags at the counter protestors now.

  “Look, UN Peacekeepers!” Nathan said, pointing. “They’re coming down the gang plank in a hurry! That’ll show the reactionaries.”

  Emily turned to Nathan, horrified. “They’re lining the deck with their guns out.”

  “Show of force,” Nathan said. “Good. That battle is getting out of hand.”

  “Our people are getting the crap beat out of them,” Emily said, watching as more and more citizens rushed in, trampling the protesters, kicking them and punching them as they tried to fight back with their clubs, sticks, pepper spray, and bags of urine.

  “Look, the police are running away,” Nathan said. “Son of a bitch. What are they doing? There’s still too many counter-protesters here!”

  “Damn Mayor’s office. This is complete lack of coordination.”

  Suddenly gunfire erupted from the deck of the ship, UN Peacekeepers firing into the fighting crowd, hitting the black-clad people and counter-protesters alike.

  “No!” Emily shouted, watching people falling to the ground. Then there were screams and yells as the area flooded with thousands of armed citizens, taking aim with their rifles and firing at the ship, killing several of the Peacekeepers as the rest dropped behind cover in shocked horror. Automatic fire started up from several groups of citizens, bullets hitting the gang plank, knocking down the Peacekeepers who were trapped there.

  “Those are military weapons!” shouted Nathan. “I see M60s and M-16s! Where’d they get those?”

  “You know how those white nationalists are,” Emily said, tears running down her cheeks.

  “They can’t own those,” Nathan said. “Somebody gave those guns to them for this event.”

  “Those sailors are uncovering the weapons on the boat,” Emily said, her eyes wide as they opened fire on the crowd, strafing with machine gun fire. One of the citizens with an M60 fired back, hitting the men behind one gun, another gunner hitting the man. Several more citizens with M60s rushed up, firing from behind cover now. The UN Peacekeepers were back, firing, hitting citizens, but also taking fire from every direction around the dock, many of them hit.