by Robert Boren
“Yeah, do that,” Hendrix said.
“It’s Gallagher and Wallis,” Maria said after she logged on. The picture of both men came up on the screen.
“Good evening,” Wallis said. “How’s the governor?”
“He’s been sleeping all afternoon,” Maria said.
“The doctor just went in to check on him,” Hendrix said, taking a chair next to Maria. Ramsey sat on the other side of her.
“What’s going on?” Ramsey asked.
“A couple of things,” Gallagher said. “Wish the old man was available.”
“I am available,” Nelson said, walking in with Schultz. He looked a little pale, but he smiled at the others as he pulled up a chair.
“I’ll just go in the other room,” Schultz said.
“Stay if you want,” Nelson said. “You’re here, so you’re part of the team.”
He smiled and nodded, then pulled up a chair.
“Good to see you up and around, Governor,” Wallis said.
“Thanks. Sorry I was out for the count there.”
“You need to take care of yourself,” Gallagher said. “Are you authorizing us to speak freely?”
“In front of the doctor?” Nelson asked. “Yes, but one thing.” He turned to Schultz.
“What’s that?” Schultz asked.
“We’re going to ask you to stay here for now. Is that okay with you?”
Schultz nodded yes. “Anything you need, sir.”
“Good, then you’re part of the inner circle for now. What you hear in this room is to be considered classified. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” Schultz said, eyes showing how nervous he was.
“Go ahead,” Nelson said.
“Okay,” Gallagher said. “The buildup of enemy fighters around the capitol building has continued. They now have roughly thirty thousand fighters in the area between Red River Street to the east, 9 th Street to the south, Guadalupe Street to the west, and MLK Street to the north. The heaviest concentration is north, and they’re coming in from that direction.”
“Where are you getting the information?” Nelson asked.
“General Hogan’s son,” Wallis said. “He’s been watching the apps.”
“Is General Hogan still being held?” Nelson asked.
“Afraid so,” Wallis said, “but they’re planning a rescue mission as we speak. They have the advantage of being able to see the enemy.”
“There’s something you’re wanting to tell me, Wallis,” Nelson said. “You’re nervous about it. Out with it.”
“Two things,” Wallis said. “First, some of our people at the capitol had an idea and acted on it.”
“Who?” Nelson asked.
“One of my best technical intelligence officers,” Gallagher said. “I like what he’s doing, but Wallis brings up a valid concern about it.”
Nelson sighed. “Let’s have it.”
“Okay, this guy… we’ll just call him Smith for now. He’d been heading up the operation to duplicate Curt’s gimbal systems for the vehicles. He came up with an idea for the problem we have in the capitol. Cranked out a solution on a 3D printer.”
“What is it?”
“A portable mount for mini-guns,” Gallagher said.
“That sounds interesting,” Nelson said. “You see a problem with this?”
Gallagher and Nelson looked at each other.
“C’mon, guys,” Nelson said.
“He cranked out six of these and snuck them into the Capitol building. They’re in place on the Capitol Dome balcony as we speak.”
“Shit,” Nelson said. “Are they visible from below?”
“That’s the beauty of these,” Gallagher said. “They raise and lower. They’re below the level of the wall on the main balcony. The mini-guns are already mounted.”
“He snuck in mini-guns?” Ramsey asked. “How? Those aren’t that small.”
“They used laundry hand trucks to get everything in,” Gallagher said.
Nelson chuckled. “I admire his courage and his ingenuity.”
“If those pop up during the attack, the enemy might wonder why they’re there,” Hendrix said.
“Therein lies the problem,” Wallis said.
“Maybe it’s not really a problem,” Ramsey said. “Wouldn’t they expect us to fortify the area?”
“That’s my point,” Gallagher said.
“And I mostly agree,” Wallis said, “but we can’t use them without getting permission.”
“I appreciate that,” Nelson said. “Use them.”
“You sure?” Wallis asked.
“I’m sure,” Nelson said. “What was the other thing?”
“This one is a little worse,” Wallis said. “Some citizens have noticed the presence of the enemy fighters.”
“How could they not?” Maria asked. “If there’s thirty thousand of them.”
“We’ve been watching through the video cameras in the area,” Ramsey said. “We haven’t seen anybody.”
Wallis chuckled. “The enemy can see the video cameras. They know where they are, so they know the areas to avoid.”
“That’s a good point,” Hendrix said.
“So the people know,” Nelson said. “They acting on it?”
“They’re using social media to pass the word, and people are starting to arrive, just like they did in San Antonio during the flood.”
“Shit, so the bad guys are seeing the messages on social media?” Hendrix asked.
“We don’t think so,” Wallis said.
“How could they not?” Hendrix asked.
“The messages are in the Comanche tongue,” Wallis said.
“You’re joking,” Hendrix said. “So how do the citizens read them?”
“Some guy came up with a translation program. He distributed it to the right people.”
“Eventually the enemy is going to get that program,” Ramsey said.
“Eventually may be good enough for us,” Nelson said. “This is genius. Our people are winning this war for us.”
“Do we know how many citizens have arrived in the area?” Hendrix asked.
Gallagher and Wallis looked at each other nervously.
“Dammit, guys, quit worrying about me getting pissed off,” Nelson said sharply. “It’s me. Remember?”
“You just had a panic attack,” Wallis said. “We’re worried about that.”
“This is why I want Schultz to stick around,” Nelson said. “I’ve got good care. I can take it. Don’t candy coat this. Understand?”
“Okay,” Wallis said. “There’s seventy thousand armed citizens surrounding the area, about three blocks outside of the enemy line. There’s at least another fifty thousand still on the way. They’re being very careful about showing themselves.”
“Holy crap,” Schultz said.
Nelson smiled. “This is a good development, you know.”
“What if it tips off the enemy?” Ramsey asked.
“It didn’t,” Hendrix said. “I agree with the Governor. These people found out because the enemy showed themselves. That’s going to come out, and it nullifies the risk of us tipping General Hogan’s hand.”
“So you don’t want us to put a stop to any of this?” Gallagher asked.
“Nope,” Nelson said. “If the enemy sees the influx, they’re liable to leave on their own.”
“Doubt it,” Ramsey said. “We just heard that they’re still arriving.”
“Yes, that’s a good indication that they have no idea,” Gallagher said.
“This is going to be another rout,” Hendrix said.
“How many people do we have in the capitol building now?” Nelson asked.
“Three thousand, give or take,” Gallagher said. “Not enough to defend it completely, even with those mini-guns. There’s a lot of M60s there, though, and other nice toys.”
“Anything we can do to limit loss of our people in the capitol?” Nelson asked.
“I think we’ve done everyt
hing we can do at this point,” Wallis said, “given the fact that we won’t tell the citizens to back down.”
“Good,” Nelson said. “Did I miss anything else while I was out?”
“Yes,” Ramsey said. “General Hogan’s son told us about big enemy build-ups in Matamoros, Big Bend National Park, and Juarez.”
“Those aren’t strategic,” Nelson said.
“Well, they are, in a way,” Gallagher said. “They’re designed to pull our resources to remote areas. They probably figured out we’re heading into New Mexico to ruin their supply lines.”
“What are we doing about this?” Nelson asked.
“We’re going forward with the deployment of DPS Patrol Boats on the Rio Grande near Matamoros, and accelerating it as much as we can,” Wallis said. “We haven’t decided what to do with the Big Bend National Park yet. We already had action planned around Juarez, with the bulk of the citizens who fought for us at Fort Stockton and Amarillo. We want to use drones in all three areas to keep tabs on what’s going on.”
“Where can we pull them from?” Nelson asked.
“I’m suggesting we pull them from Houston and Corpus Christi,” Gallagher said. “Since the US Navy has taken over the Gulf.”
“Is that going okay?” Nelson asked. “Any sign of plants still remaining in the Navy?”
“Nope,” Wallis said. “None at all.”
“Good, then I’ll approve moving the drones,” Nelson said. “How’s our Fort Stockton group doing in New Mexico?”
“They’re running a recon operation tonight, at the White Sands base.”
“Are they planning on an attack there?” Nelson asked. “I’m more worried about I-25 than I am about that base.”
“That’s part of why they’re doing the recon,” Wallis said. “To decide if it’s worth it to attack them, given the importance of shutting down the I-25 corridor.”
“There’s a big wild card,” Gallagher said. “The Mescalero Indian tribe.”
“I don’t remember hearing about this,” Nelson said.
“I was getting to it,” Ramsey said. “They showed up at the RV Park in Ruidoso to check out what the Fort Stockton group was doing. That tribe has a non-aggression pact with the Islamists at White Sands. They have four thousand warriors.”
“Son of a bitch,” Nelson said. “Do we know which side they’re on?”
“We’re still investigating that,” Ramsey said. “Not much to work with, though.”
“What do the folks on the ground think?” Nelson asked.
“Jason doesn’t think they will be a problem for them, but he won’t go as far as saying he expects them to help.”
“That doesn’t sound very good,” Nelson said.
“It isn’t,” Gallagher said. “Even if they come back and tell Jason they’re on our side, they could turn in a battle and kill all of our folks.”
“Let’s use some common sense,” Hendrix said. “What are the reasons that they’d side with the Islamists?”
“Survival,” Ramsey said. “Jason brought up that as the war winds down, if the invaders win, they’ll take down the tribe. The leader acknowledged that.”
“Why would the tribe go against the Islamists?” Hendrix asked. “Did they have any ideas?”
“The tribe made most of its money from the casino and race track in Ruidoso. The Islamists chased all the people out of that town. No more business.”
“That’s a powerful incentive to side with us,” Nelson said.
“Yes, if they’re confident they can survive that,” Ramsey said. “They’ll be committing to something that could destroy them.”
Nelson sat silently for a few moments.
“If they can’t get commitment from the tribe to join them in taking down the base at White Sands, I want our people to go around it and start taking apart I-25. We have to shut off the flow of enemy fighters and supplies to Utah and Colorado.”
“Yes sir,” Ramsey said. “I’ll call Jason.”
Chapter 12 – Belt Guides
Captain Smith climbed the steps up into the capitol dome and slipped outside, the night breeze hitting his six-foot-four frame. He was wearing street clothes. Suit and tie, like the bureaucrats he despised. He was young for his rank, just over thirty. A young private was fiddling with one of the mini-guns in a crouch. He had red hair, close cropped, and was dressed as a janitor.
“Hey, Captain,” said Private Trinity. “You hear from the old man?”
“Not yet,” Smith said, “but keep your eyes open and be ready.”
“Roger that,” Trinity said.
“Having a problem?”
“Depending on which direction we’re aiming, the ammo belt can get hung up right here, see?” He pointed to an angled piece that helped support the legs on the stand.
Smith squatted and duck-walked over to the stand, taking a close look, then pulling out a scale and taking a measurement. “I think I can fix it. I’ll go design a piece we can bolt on to solve it.”
“You got all of the 3D printers in here now?”
“Yeah, in the cloak room right off the rotunda,” Smith said, smiling. “Wish we had ammo reloading equipment here.”
“We brought a lot of rounds,” Trinity said.
“I know, but six of these guns are gonna go through that like shit through a goose. We need to bring a bunch of M60s up here, and only use the mini-guns for the worst threats.”
Trinity nodded. “When are the others coming back?”
“Half an hour,” Smith said. “Why?”
“Just jitters,” he said.
Smith nodded and left the balcony, going down to the cloak room. The 3D printers were still on, ready to go. He sat at a terminal and brought up the cad-cam software, then designed his part. Within ten minutes he had all five 3D printers working on them. His phone buzzed, and he answered it.
“Smith,” he said.
“It’s Gallagher. We’re on.”
“Excellent. I’ll send out a text to everybody.”
“Good. One more thing. You know those civilians that were using Comanche language in social media?”
“Yeah,” Smith said. “Haven’t heard anything about that for a couple of days.”
“They’ve got seventy thousand armed citizen fighters in place, surrounding the capitol area, about three blocks past the enemy positions.”
Smith almost dropped his phone. “Say again.”
“You heard right. Seventy thousand, and there’s another fifty thousand still on the way. Of course the enemy is still moving people in too.”
“From where?” Smith asked.
“From the north,” Gallagher said.
“We don’t have enough ammo for the mini-guns.”
“I’ll try to scare up some more. Think you can sneak it in?”
“Probably not until tomorrow morning,” Smith said. “Actually might not need it with as many civilians as you’re talking about. How sure are you about that info.”
“Completely sure,” Gallagher said. “A large number of them were involved in the San Antonio battle.”
“Good,” Smith said, starting to choke up. “Gotta love Texans.”
“Damn straight,” Gallagher said. “Don’t get killed.”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” Smith said. The call ended, and he went back to the 3D printers. The parts were progressing well, so he sent a text to his men, letting them know about the civilians and the increasing number of Islamists. There were footsteps coming, echoing in the rotunda. The door to the cloak room opened, and several of his men came in.
“Was that a joke?” Private Haney asked. He was in his early twenties, with a crew cut and a muscular build.
“Nope,” Smith said.
“Then we’ll have to be real careful where we point those mini-guns,” Haney said. The others nodded in agreement.
“You’re right,” Smith said. “We should be using those to stop vehicles and mortar teams. Let’s bring the M60s up there. Those will b
e primary.”
“M60s? You got them?” asked another young man, black, with a mischievous smile. His name was Foley.
“There’s a crate down in the corner of the rotunda. There’s six M60s in there.”
Foley cracked up. “I saw that. Thought it was a frigging coffin.”
Haney laughed. “Sick, man.”
“The ammo crate is next to it,” Smith said. “Should be plenty.”
“You heard the man,” Haney said.
“What are you cranking out on the printers?” Foley asked.
“Trinity said the belts were hanging up on the stand brace. These parts will bolt on to protect against that.”
“Oh,” Foley said, watching as the others left the cloak room.
“Hey, Foley, get your ass moving,” Haney shouted. Several of the other men snickered.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, sucka,” Foley said as he left. Smith watched him go out the door, then shook his head and focused back on his printers.
“Almost done,” he said to himself. He was relieved. This was a suicide mission before the multitude of civilians arrived. Now they had a fighting chance, although they were still in grave danger. A couple RPG shots to the dome would end their operation right away. Then those who survived would be scrambling down the thin staircase with M60s and ammo. They’d be lucky to stop the enemy from storming the building. Everyone here knew it.
The first 3D printer beeped. Smith shut it off and looked at the part. “Looks perfect,” he said. The next beeper went off, then the third. The fourth and fifth finished. Smith took the part off the first printer, then went to the console and started it again to make the sixth part. Then he rummaged around in his tool bag for his heavy-duty drill motor and some hardware. He put them into a tool tray, then got the parts taken off the other printers, throwing them onto the tray with the other stuff. He rushed back up to the dome, crouching as he came out. The other men were there, setting up the M60s and getting the ammo ready to go.
“Here they are,” Smith said, sliding the tray towards Trinity. “Want to do the honors while I go get the last part?”
“Sure,” Trinity said, taking the drill and getting started.
“They’re coming pretty soon, boss,” Foley muttered. “You feel it?”
“Yeah,” Smith said as he left the balcony.
