Homefront: The Voice of Freedom

by John

  The enemy’s western territory contained the lion’s share of American natural and technological resources. On the other hand, although eastern America held little value for the Occupational Forces, it was still home to over eighty million residents. Since the EMP blast, the East still posed a threat and had a clear motivation to fight.

  Kim Jong-un wisely decided to create an impenetrable barrier to ensure that eastern Americans would not be able to provide significant assistance to their western counterparts or additional resistance to the Occupational Forces. Years ago, when the Brilliant Comrade began planning the occupation of America, he immediately latched on to the lucky fluke that the Mississippi River was a natural dividing line between everything the Koreans wanted and the more problematic East Coast territories. How could the GKR keep the hordes of Americans residing east of the river to stay put, and at the same time subjugate the population west of the river?

  After consulting with the genius Dr. Mae Chin Ho from the People’s Military Science Institute in Pyongyang, Kim came up with Operation Water Snake, a revolutionary plan fitting only for the enduring legacy of the Brilliant Comrade. It was an inspired, albeit nefarious, scheme that would turn the Mississippi River into an impassable barrier.

  Operation Water Snake’s goal was the systematic irradiating of the Mississippi River with highly radioactive solvents—a deadly cocktail. A radioactive Mississippi River would create the desired noxious barricade spanning from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, dividing the country. All cities within a hundred mile radius of the river would become contaminated and uninhabitable, forcing evacuations from north to south.

  Not only would the operation create the deadly “fence” and redesign world maps forever in the Brilliant Comrade’s vision, it was also the most cost-effective strategy. This conviction included the deaths of over four thousand martyrs—many scientists, soldiers, and American collaborators.

  The final phase finally executed in February 2026, Operation Water Snake was an extremely dangerous undertaking, but it was an unqualified success.

  There were five Deposit Locations on the western banks of the river—Lake Itasca and Winona in Minnesota; Muscatine, Iowa; Cape Girardeau, Missouri; and St. Joseph, Louisiana. The five strategic Deposit Locations up and down the river played the role of planting a radioactive seed in the river; however, it was the river itself that was responsible for spreading its effect far beyond. The sheer size of the river, north to south, insured nearly three thousand miles of radioactive cover along the valley alone. The speed of the river’s flow constantly cultivated the materials in the water, creating volatility between the hazardous elements and thus increasing the radioactive potency. The connected tributaries, rivers, creeks, and streams pushed the contamination east and west almost three hundred miles in each direction in select areas. The powerful discharge into the Gulf of Mexico stretched the effects of the radioactivity around the tip of Florida all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. In the end, Operation Water Snake contributed to the contamination of almost 210,000 square miles of land, river, and sea within the continental United States.

  Even Salmusa, a man with a steely fortitude, shuddered to think of the physical effects of the Cocktail on human beings. Most of the exposure to the uranium fission fragments was through water and food. Ten hours after exposure, spontaneous symptoms would set in. After fatigue and severe nausea, victims would experience a phase of several weeks of relative normalcy called a “dormant phase” or “walking ghost.” After this, cells were killed in the intestinal tissue, resulting in substantial diarrhea, intestinal bleeding, and water loss. Death followed delirium and coma after a collapse of the circulation and nervous system. The only treatment available was palliative management.

  The consequences of Operation Water Snake would remain relevant for years to come. Possible long-term effects included chromosomal abnormality, leukemia, anemia, and Down syndrome effects on offspring.

  In addition, Operation Water Snake would force more than half of the four hundred different wildlife species to evacuate to more livable habitats. Those that were too damaged or sick to leave would produce additional health hazards to humans as the radioactive carcasses spread disease and further contamination.

  Salmusa had no doubt the success of the operation would also produce psychological effects on the American population. The people, once they learned of what happened to their beloved river, would likely develop depression and anxiety, paranoia, and fear and distrust of all outside influences. Large parts of the populace would be brought to a halt, unable to function and operate normally under the constant fear of another attack.

  It was a brilliant plan.

  Salmusa was proud to have offered an addendum to Executive Order 434, which Kim Jong-un implemented. While no one actually made “suggestions” to the Brilliant Comrade, it was possible to phrase one so that it seemed as if the idea was a natural extension of the leader’s wishes. Salmusa was better at that ploy than most of Kim’s advisors and yes-men. His suggestion was that in order to maintain the integrity of the new Mississippi Border for the length of the Occupation and through completion of the Greater Korean Republic’s plans, the Light Infantry Division would redeposit additional Source Term supplies of the Cocktail every seventeen to twenty-four months.

  A subdivision of the Occupational Police would be responsible for regular patrol of the border through the use of armed drones at bridges and other points of crossing. Additionally, every three to six months, a special division would set grass and forest fires in strategic areas within a ten-mile radius surrounding the river. Fires could mobilize the radioactivity material again, converting the elements to an airborne form that would enter the atmosphere in a different structure and redistribute itself across the landscape and population.

  Now, two months after Operation Water Snake was accomplished, Salmusa watched as fires raged on the ground below. It didn’t matter that Muscatine, Iowa, would be destroyed. There was no longer anyone living there.

  Human beings could not be within five miles of the river without wearing an Iron Fish or comparable radioactivity-resistant suit. Even then, five hours was the maximum amount of exposure a person could take. No one knew exactly how high the airborne contamination reached; needless to say, simply walking or driving across a bridge without a suit was impossible.

  The Brilliant Comrade would be pleased. Salmusa had finished touring all five Deposit Locations and confirmed that everything was in order. It was time to return to GKR headquarters in San Francisco, for his work with Operation Water Snake was completed. He thought wryly that from north to south the Mighty Mississippi was no longer Old Man River.

  It was now Dead Man River.

  TWENTY-TWO

  APRIL 6, 2026

  Walker stepped into the space at Home that the leaders facetiously called the “War Room.” Situated in one of the first-floor bedrooms in one of the houses, it was where Boone Karlson, Nguyen Giap, Hopper Lee, Wally Kopple, and Connor Morgan met to discuss resistance strategy.

  “You guys wanted to see me?”

  “Come in, Ben,” Karlson said. “Have a seat.”

  They were situated around a table. A large map of Montrose adorned one wall, while a map of the United States decorated the other. Various colored pins dotted each map in key locations.

  Walker took a chair. “So are we going to save the world today? What’s up?”

  “Ben, we’ve been discussing your plans to broadcast from that old radio station. How soon will you and Kelsie be ready to do so?”

  “Five or six days, I should think. Why?”

  “You think you can be ready in four?”

  Walker rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d have to ask Kelsie. She’s really the brains of the team. I just complain. Why?”

  Morgan answered for Karlson. “Because the Norks will probably be here by the tenth. They’ll be crawling over this town like cockroaches.”

  Karlson added, “We received i
ntel that a heavy Korean force is headed this way. The information we got out of our prisoner is true. Montrose is a key target because of the shale oil mining outside of town. They’re bringing tanks and a battalion of an estimated five hundred light infantry soldiers. We think there are already fifty to a hundred men in Montrose already, so a liberal estimate makes it a total of six hundred. There are roughly thirty fighting men and women here at Home. The odds are comparable to that of the Alamo.”

  “Jesus,” Walker said.

  “Let ’em come!” Morgan growled. “I ain’t gettin’ any action sittin’ here on my ass!”

  Karlson ignored him. “There are other resistance cells besides us, of course, but I have no idea how big they are. Eventually we’ve got to establish communications with them and coordinate our efforts. But until then, with the added Korean troops, it means it’s going to be even more difficult for us to accomplish tasks in town. We’re not sure how much access you’re going to have to the radio station once they’re here.”

  Kopple started to speak but went into a coughing spasm instead. Everyone looked at him with concern and shared worried glances with the others around the table. The sergeant gasped for breath and Giap handed him a bottle of water. Kopple took a few sips and eventually relaxed. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I was about to say we all think what you and Kelsie are doing is important. You and I have talked about how the resistance can use your natural ability to fire up people. We want you to make a broadcast before the Koreans get here and make sure everyone knows about the Mississippi River. And you need to tell anyone listening to join the Resistance. No more complacency. No more submission.”

  Karlson continued. “We know the Koreans can pinpoint where a radio signal is coming from. Unless you can get the station up and running before they get here, you’re not going to have a chance to make the broadcast.”

  Walker said, “We could continue to use Hopper’s equipment. So far Kelsie and I have managed to get away with making broadcasts from different areas of town. I haven’t made any transmissions in the last few days because we’ve been so busy repairing the station, but we could try and slip in some quickies at night. We haven’t gotten caught yet. If the Koreans are listening, they’re probably confused as to where we really are because we keep moving.”

  “But the whole point of using the radio station is for its long-range capacity,” Karlson said. “We need you to get the word out to all of America.”

  “I understand that.” Walker rubbed his chin. “You do know there’s an elementary school on the same street as the radio station? And it’s in service. There are children there.”

  “So maybe that’ll help with your cover. A lot of parents are seen in the mornings and in the afternoons picking up their kids. It’s one of the few elementary schools still active in Montrose.”

  Walker nodded. “Okay. So you’re saying we have until the tenth.”

  “Right.”

  Walker sighed. “Then I guess we better get to work.”

  APRIL 9, 2026

  Over the next three days, Walker and Wilcox worked like madmen to finish repairing the station.

  Located on Rose Lane, the building hadn’t been used in perhaps a decade. Much of the electrical equipment was fried by the EMP. The antenna on the roof was useless, so Wilcox had to build a new Yagi-Uda-style device from scratch. Although she was able to plunder parts from the old aerial, the trick was going to be attaching the new antenna to the roof without any Korean sentries in town noticing. One advantage was that Rose Lane was somewhat isolated in the northeast area of town, with the station on the far end of a dead-end street. The elementary school, built during the previous decade, was located in the middle of the block.

  The Korean presence was mostly concentrated downtown, with occasional visits by patrols to the suburban regions. Walker and Wilcox thought it prudent to enlist Jim’s help and the services of the cell’s baker, a woman named Naomi.

  In order for Walker and Wilcox to work longer hours at the station, they needed someone to stand guard and warn them if a KPA soldier came sniffing. The cell’s electronics team had already repaired a number of walkie-talkies. Karlson, Morgan, Lee, and Giap used them to communicate with each other when they were away from Home. Walker asked if two more instruments could be quickly repaired and allocated to him. Thus, Jim would position himself with one at the entrance of Rose Lane and man a cart containing samples of Naomi’s homemade bread to “sell.” His walkie-talkie was hidden in a bread loaf, to be used only in case of an emergency. To prevent someone wanting to buy the crucial loaf, it was “decorated” with coloring that resembled mold. Karlson approved the plan because it would also generate some income for the cell.

  On the day before the expected influx of Korean troops, the couple was ready to mount the antenna on the roof. They had cut a hole in the studio ceiling and placed a step ladder under it so Wilcox could access the roof quickly without having to go outdoors. Inside the building, the studio’s console was almost repaired and functioning. Wilcox had built new input jacks so they could plug in their homemade transistor board and microphone. Even though it was LPAM—low-powered AM broadcasting—which wasn’t as strong as Wilcox would have liked, by pushing their signal through the studio’s more powerful transmitter and out the Yagi-Uda, allegedly it would reach both coasts. The only thing remaining to be done was rewiring a mess of cords beneath the console. Since it reminded Walker of spaghetti, he left that intimidating job for last.

  Wilcox stood on the roof and surveyed the dark sky. “Looks like a storm is coming,” she called down through the hole.

  Walker stood inside the studio at the base of the ladder. “We gotta remember to put the cover on when we leave tonight. You ready to plug in the drill?”

  “Sure.” She knelt with a power drill in hand, the cord strung down into the room. Walker plugged it into a hand-cart-mounted engine-generator they had brought from Home. Although portable, the machine was heavy enough that two people were required to carry it.

  “Okay!”

  “Fire that baby up!”

  Karlson allotted only so much gas for the generator. They had to use it sparingly, but drilling holes in the roof for the antenna base was necessary. Wilcox fit the stand where she’d made marks and proceeded to work.

  Two blocks away, at the other end of Rose Lane, Jim sat in a lawn chair under a beach umbrella. So far he’d sold six loaves of bread since setting up shop that morning. There were only four left. Poor Naomi couldn’t churn out enough product, for which there seemed to be a demand, especially with all the parents dropping off their kids at the school in the mornings. What would he do when there were no more loaves to sell? How could he justify remaining on the sidewalk if the KPA came around? It wasn’t going to take long for word to get back to the Koreans that he was selling bread on the street. They were sure to check him out sooner or later.

  A woman with a baby stroller appeared along Main Street/Highway 50, saw the stand, and approached him. “How much for the bread?” she asked.

  “A dollar a loaf.”

  “That’s very reasonable. I’ll take two.”

  “Money’s not worth a lot these days, you know,” Jim said. “Just trying to help out our neighbors.”

  He considered raising the prices in the future to discourage customers.

  Two loaves left and it was only mid-afternoon.

  School let out. Most parents didn’t want their kids walking home, so they came to pick them up. Jim’s anxiety increased as several moms and dads strolled past with their sons and daughters, but luckily no one stopped to shop.

  Back at the radio station, Wilcox finished drilling. Walker shut off the generator, climbed the ladder, and helped her with the antenna. After telescoping it, the thing was twelve feet long. With the added height of the building, it would stick up over thirty feet in the air. Given that Montrose’s elevation was approximately 5,800 feet above sea level, the broadcast quality should be pretty good.

/>   “Okay, I’ll need you to hold it steady while I attach it to the base,” she told him. Together they raised the antenna upright and positioned it over the holes she’d drilled in the base. The wind had risen, so Walker had to struggle with the aerial to keep it still.

  “I see what you mean about a storm coming.” The bottom slipped out of place, knocking a bolt out of Wilcox’s hand. It rolled off the roof. “Damn!”

  “Ben, hold it!”

  “I’m trying!”

  Jim looked back at the end of the lane. The station building was visible from where he sat, but it was far enough away that activity on the inside wasn’t easily discernable. However, with Walker and Wilcox on the roof erecting the antenna, they weren’t hard to spot.

  He turned back to see another woman and a teenage girl approach the stand. Jim stood and smiled. “May I help you, ma’am?”

  Then his spine turned to ice. A man wearing the unmistakable dark olive green Korean People’s Army uniform appeared on his rounds at the intersection of Rose Lane and Main Street. He saw the bread cart and started walking toward it.

  “Let’s see,” the woman said. “You have three loaves left?”

  “Uhm, just two, ma’am. See, that one there is a little moldy.”

  “Oh. Eww.” She laughed a little. “Well, I can’t say I haven’t eaten a little moldy bread in the past year.”

  Hurry up, lady! Jim thought. He had to warn Walker.

  “I’ll take all three. That’s a dollar each, right?”