RACE WARS: Season Seven: Episodes 37-41: MOLON LABE

by D. W. Ulsterman

  Captain Larson stopped and pointed to a ten by ten brick building that stood in the middle of the detention center. A single, black iron door was framed at the brick structure’s center and a three foot tall stainless steel vent pipe extended upward from the back right corner of its flat rooftop.

  General Thompson could smell the aroma of something having recently been burned. He looked at the building and then at Larson.

  “What is it?”

  The captain cleared his throat.

  “We found, uh, we found bones inside, sir. Some of them appear to have been…children.”

  Colonel Jones was first to voice his confusion.

  “What do you mean some of them were children? In there?”

  Larson glanced at the colonel and then nodded.

  “Yes, in there. They were burnt…at least a dozen, maybe more. There are slots cut out on the sides of the building that would allow a flame thrower to shoot into the inside of it.”

  The general and colonel locked eyes for several seconds as they fully came to realize the extent of the atrocities being committed at the detention center.

  One of the freed prisoners being led out of the facility, an older black woman, stopped and pointed at the brick structure.

  “It’s true! They stopped feeding us and then started putting the weaker ones in there three days ago. They’d scream and scream until…until they couldn’t scream no more.”

  General Thompson cursed under his breath and then hissed his next command between tightly clenched teeth.

  “Bring that EPA agent to me, right here – right now.”

  Captain Larson gave a quick salute and then jogged toward the main gate.

  Colonel Jones ran a trembling right hand over his face as he continued to stare at the makeshift crematorium.

  “Anyone doubt humankind’s willingness to commit evil upon its own kind need look no further than that god-forsaken thing.”

  A moment later saw General Thompson glaring at the still defiant EPA operative.

  “You were burning people alive in there?”

  The EPA agent gave an indifferent shrug.

  “I was just following orders.”

  Colonel Jones raised his military rifle.

  “You sick son-of-a-bitch!”

  The general placed his right hand atop the rifle.

  “Hold on, Colonel, I have a couple more questions for this…thing.”

  General Thompson took a slow deep breath and then proceeded with the interrogation.

  “Who gave you the order?”

  The EPA officer lifted his chin upward and remained silent.

  “Did it come from your director, Dr. Fenwick Sage?”

  The man’s eyes widened slightly and then retreated behind quickly closed lids. It was a reaction that told the general all he needed to know regarding the one responsible for initiating a policy of burning human beings alive.

  “So, here’s the deal. We can’t allow enemy survivors. This operation of ours, well, it’s an all or nothing thing. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  The EPA agent’s eyes flew open and the color ran from his face. For the first time since being taken that morning, he feared for his life.

  “You don’t have the authority. You can’t…”

  The man’s plea faded into the oblivion of his just-realized reality.

  The general stepped to his left and then nodded at Colonel Jones.

  “Colonel, he’s all yours.”

  The colonel once again raised his rifle and pointed it at the EPA officer’s face.

  “With pleasure, General.”

  The EPA agent’s hands flew up as he began to beg for mercy.

  “Wait! I can help you! I can tell you the locations of the other facilities! There’s more – a lot more. This was one of the smaller ones. If you want to save those people, I can help. I want to help.”

  Colonel Jones kept his rifle pointed at the EPA operative but glanced at General Thompson, awaiting further instruction. The general in turn took another look at the brick building that had been turned into a house of horrors by EPA operatives like the one who now begged for his own life after so willingly disposing of the lives of others.

  “We don’t need your help.”

  General Reg Thompson abruptly turned on his heel and began to make his way back toward the main gate and the transport vehicles that waited outside the EPA detention center.

  A single rifle shot rang out followed by the soft thud of a body dropping to the ground.

  The general didn’t look back.

  ---------------

  Twenty-four hours later: EPA Headquarters: Chicago, Illinois

  “What am I looking at, here? What is this?”

  Doctor Fenwick Sage’s annoyance was evident in his tone.

  The EPA agent who had recently been given the assignment as Dr. Sage’s personal assistant was a blonde, extremely thin thirty-seven year old woman by the name of Glenda Green. Sage chose her after she had come up with the idea for the nationwide implementation of EPA detention center facilities to better carry out the doctor’s desired population control protocol, an essential component to the success Protocol X.

  He was also in love with her.

  “These are images taken by EPA field operatives late yesterday, Doctor. It’s our Gettysburg facility. We had just over two thousand interned there. It appears to have been some kind of coordinated attack. All supplies were taken, including weapons, and the five EPA officers assigned to supervise the facility were all found dead. One of them was shot in the head.”

  Sage continued to stare at the images laid out atop his desk.

  “Has the information of this been contained so it remains an EPA-only matter?”

  Glenda Green nodded.

  “Of course, Doctor. Our field operatives have already been debriefed and given very clear instructions regarding potential punishment should they be involved in any kind of security breach. The admiral will not be notified of the matter unless you choose to do so yourself.”

  Dr. Sage pointed to a darkened section of earth just outside the detention center’s main entrance.

  “What is this?”

  Glenda leaned closer to the doctor, an act which caused Sage’s heart-rate to increase as he caught a faint whiff of her lavender-scented perfume.

  “That was a phrase the attackers spelled out with fuel and then lit on fire – Molon Labe.”

  Sage’s posture straightened and his eyes narrowed as he traced the outline of the word with the tips of his right fingers.

  “Molon Labe?”

  The corners of Glenda Green’s thin-lipped mouth curled upward into a brief smile.

  “Yes, a Greek phrase roughly translated as, come and take it.”

  Sage grunted.

  “I know the translation, Ms. Green. It comes from the Spartan’s refusal to lay down their weapons following the Persian King Xerxes’ order they do so. I also know the phrase’s importance to various insurgent groups throughout history, including during the Texas Revolution of 1835 and gun rights activists in America for the last hundred years. It is a declaration of defiance, Ms. Green, one that cannot be allowed to fester.”

  The doctor turned away from his desk to stare out at the Chicago cityscape below him.

  “Do we have any idea who carried out the attack?”

  Ms. Green remained standing directly behind the EPA director.

  “No, not yet, but I will continue to look into it personally, sir. The guard towers appear to have been struck from above, indicating an aerial assault.”

  Sage whirled around to face his assistant.

  “Planes? They had access to planes?”

  Glenda nodded.

  “Yes, it appears so.”

  Dr. Sage sat down slowly behind his desk and folded his hands in front of him as his mind contemplated this new and critically important bit of information.

  “There may be satellite imagery of the attack.”


  Glenda again nodded.

  “Yes, I considered that as well, but of course that would require a direct request to the military to be given access to their satellite data.”

  Sage closed his eyes.

  And that would mean Admiral Briggs would find out about the attack. I cannot afford to have the autonomy of my own authority compromised at this time.

  “Dr. Sage?”

  The doctor looked up at his assistant and took a moment to admire the icy blue color of her eyes.

  “You are correct regarding satellite imagery. We cannot make a request as it would alert the admiral to a potential situation I would rather he not yet know about. We must come up with an alternative to that outcome.”

  Glenda folded her bone-thin arms across her narrow chest.

  “Perhaps our response should focus more on those who perpetrated the attack and less on potential complications that might arise from Admiral Briggs’ involvement?”

  Sage tilted his head to the right while he again stared into his assistant’s eyes.

  “What do you mean, Ms. Green?”

  “Well, Doctor, it seems this might be a moment we make an example out of those who did this to prove our intolerance for any sign of possible challenge to your authority. I pulled the numbers this morning just prior to coming here. We have at present, forty-seven operational detention centers across the country representing a total population of nearly 113,000 detainees.”

  Without thinking to do so, Dr. Sage found himself leaning forward in his chair, so intrigued was he by Glenda Green’s words.

  “Yes, Ms. Green, please continue.”

  Glenda turned around while keeping her arms folded across her chest and slowly paced across the width of Sage’s office as she continued to speak.

  “Whoever was responsible for freeing those two thousand being kept at the Gettysburg Detention Center must be shown the consequences of their actions. They freed two thousand…we terminate the rest. Every man, woman, and child being kept at the other facilities are to be gone by the end of today.”

  The doctor leaned back in his chair and found himself even more impressed by Glenda’s open willingness to suggest that which so many others would have found impossibly unthinkable.

  “You think I should issue a kill order on the remaining detainees?”

  Glenda nodded, her eyes gleaming with the knowledge of the power she wielded through the value she knew Sage placed upon her opinions.

  “Yes, you have the authority. You are well within your right to do so, Dr. Sage. Prove to these insurgents your government is not to be trifled with. Show them you are a man of iron. Reveal your resolve to maintain order for all to see. Crush them under your heel, for that is what this attack deserves.”

  Fenwick Sage’s eyes travelled down to the photos on his desk and then settled onto the burnt-out Molon Labe image.

  So they wish for me to come and take it, do they? And so I will. I shall take every remnant of hope they might have had left. Their insurrection will be scattered to the wind, for this is MY time and not theirs.

  Sage looked up at his assistant and nodded his approval.

  “Issue the order, Ms. Green. All remaining detainees are to be put to death by the end of today, every last one – no exceptions.”

  Glenda Green gave the doctor a quick smile.

  “At once, Dr. Sage.”

  The doctor watched his assistant leave his office and close the door behind her, silently marveling at how the simple white blouse and dark grey skirt that ended exactly three inches below her knees somehow managed to remain perfectly creased and without a wrinkle each and every day.

  Just like her clothing, she is perfection. Intelligence and an easy willingness to end the lives of those whose collective existence should never have been.

  The doctor leaned back into his chair and looked up at the white ceiling of his office and chuckled.

  Dr. Fenwick Sage had never been so happy to be alive.

  --------------------

  EPISODE FORTY:

  The RV was out of diesel and sat motionless on the side of the road.

  Sabina Markson had managed to put no more than twenty-four miles between her family and whatever horrors took place back at the Benton property.

  She knew twenty-four miles wasn’t nearly enough. Jackson and Mika had both watched Tess Benton being murdered by the bikers.

  And they are no doubt on their way here to do the same thing to us.

  Even as she spoke the thought in her head, Sabina admitted to herself she wasn’t being entirely honest. Those men on the motorcycles would certainly kill them eventually, but they were just as likely to do other things first. A young prize like Mika wouldn’t go unnoticed by such monsters.

  No way I let that happen.

  “I’ve seen this place.”

  Sabina turned around in the RV’s driver seat to look at her daughter Mika who stared out at the tree and brush-strewn landscape visible to her through the windshield.

  “What do you mean?”

  Mika’s eyes indicated she had gone to some momentary far off place within her subconscious. She kept staring outside without having answered her mother.

  “Mika?”

  Sabina’s daughter blinked her eyes several times and then offered an embarrassed, half smile.

  “Oh, it’s just…I had a dream a couple nights ago of a place that looked just like this. There was an old woman with long silver hair who…”

  Mika’s voice trailed off as her face tightened from her effort to recall the details of the dream.

  “I was standing outside with her in the middle of the road. It was the same road, the same trees, the sky…everything was exactly like it is now. The woman, she looked at me and smiled and I felt safe. I remember that part, how safe I felt when she smiled.”

  Sabina stood up from the seat and gently placed a hand on either side of Mika’s shoulders.

  “Did she say anything to you?”

  Mika nodded.

  “Yes, but I don’t know what it means. She said that it didn’t matter how many shots ring out, but rather how many find their mark.”

  Jackson, who stood a few feet down the hallway from where Mika was, rolled his eyes.

  “Well that sounds a bit morbid.”

  Both Sabina and Mika ignored Jackson’s remark.

  “Did she say anything else to you?”

  Mika shook her head slowly.

  “No…she repeated those words twice, I remember that. And then I woke up.”

  Sabina, having already experienced some very vivid dreams herself, wasn’t about to ignore her daughter having done the same. She gave Mika’s shoulders a soft squeeze and then added what she hoped was her own comforting smile.

  “We’re going to be ok, Mika. We always are.”

  Mika nodded as her eyes returned to the world beyond the windshield.

  “Jackson, I need you to get the rifle and all the shells we have left. Count them up and then let me know, ok?”

  Jackson responded quickly, moving to the back of the RV with both Bosco and Clyde in tow.

  Sabina had no idea how much time there would be before the bikers made their way to them, but she assumed it would be no more than an hour. What she had to decide at that point was if they would hole up inside the RV, or make their way into the thin woods that lined both sides of the narrow paved road.

  Jackson returned with the rifle and a box of ammo. His face appeared grim.

  “Nine bullets left, Mom. That’s all we have.”

  Sabina felt the first stirrings of deep panic rising up from within her. She sat back slowly into the driver chair and closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on what needed to be done next.

  By the time her eyes opened a half-minute later, her mind was made up and her determination had returned.

  “Get all the food together that we can easily carry. Also some blankets, material to start a fire, we need just the essentials. It’s just as importan
t we don’t take too much because we’ll need to move fast, so hurry up. I want us out of here in five minutes.”