“And you think the American people will just go along with this? What about the West Coast and the Rockies? They’re living somewhat normal lives there.”
“They’re not going to have a choice. The Chinese aren’t coming to conquer and imprison us; they’re coming as allies.”
“Sir, again, with respect, I don’t think the Chinese will see it that way. They own the bulk of our former nation’s debt. I think they’re coming to call in their markers.”
“Charles, I have no doubt that you’re wrong; however, if the alternative is The Great Empire of Iran, I think the American people will choose the Chinese any day of the week. They have the military might to defend our borders and keep us safe.”
“How the mighty have fallen.”
“Indeed. But weak as we might be, I’ll still have my finger on the button to level Beijing if things don’t go our way, and our Chinese friends know it.”
“A wise precaution.”
* * *
“Who attacked me? Start talking now or you die!” President Simon Sterling’s left arm was bleeding profusely, thanks to a poorly aimed shot from his chief advisor, Stacy Reid. “I know you were involved in the attack on the church, so start talking! And how convenient that you’d left the church right before the blast.”
Stacy was bound to a chair in the armory, nursing a black eye and a broken hand. Having never fired a gun in her life, she’d botched the attempt to assassinate the president of the Unified American Empire. She’d been so startled by the first shot that she’d closed her eyes and pulled the trigger blindly until all she heard was click..click..click. Hitting Sterling in the arm, hell, hitting him at all before the security officer kicked the weapon from her hand had been pure luck. The blow, breaking three of her fingers, was quickly followed by a punch to the face that dropped Stacy to the ground. “I don’t know who attacked you at the church. You sent me to the car; leaving the church was not my idea, it was yours!”
“You’re lying! You’re a part of this, and if I have to cut off all your fingers and have you tortured to death to find out what you know, I’ll do it! Who are you working for? Howard Beck? Did he put you up to this? Admit it!”
“I’m not working for Howard Beck! I did this on my own!”
“You’re lying!”
Stacy sniffled, blinking back the flood of hot tears. “I was acting alone! I saw a chance to finally kill you, and I took it! You’re a madman, a crazy dictator who’s responsible for the deaths of millions! You murdered Malcolm Powers, you sick bastard!”
Simon was stunned. “So that’s what this is all about? You have some crazy notion that I actually assassinated a sitting president of the United States, and you want petty revenge? Are you serious? Malcolm was a role model to me, and I loved him dearly. I was so looking forward to having a relationship with him in his twilight years, and the Iranians robbed me of that! How dare you!”
“You can feign sentimentality all you want, but we both know what you did. You wanted him out of the way. It was rather convenient that The Pulse covered your tracks so completely that no one will ever know the truth. You can deny it all you want, but you know you assassinated a man… a man whose shoes you’ll never be able to fill. You’ll never be even half the man Malcolm was.”
The taunting worked like a charm. “Malcolm Powers was a fool! He saw the nation crumbling around him, and he did nothing to stop it! How many people died in Florida - your own family included-because he wanted to save the world from Iran? So yes, my dear, I murdered him. I vaporized every ounce of his body with a missile so no grave could ever hold him; not even ashes would remain to fill an urn. I have no regrets. None!”
“And what have you done to make things right? You closed our borders and refused help from anyone. Your mighty isolationism is turning this country into a wasteland!”
“Bitch, I’m done arguing with you. I can’t believe I actually trusted you. I’m not an idiot; I know you’re spying for Howard Beck. I know with every fiber of my being that you’re going to tell me everything, every little detail. You will experience pain like you never thought possible. Only when I’m certain you’ve told me everything in that deluded, conceited mind of yours will I grant you the gift of death.”
“Please, I did this on my own. I don’t know who bombed the church, I swear. I saw my chance to kill you and I took it. No one told me to do it. Please, you have to believe me, Simon.”
Sterling turned to the security officer. “Get the doctor.”
Stacy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Simon.”
Maniacal laughter filled the room. “Oh no! The doctor isn’t coming to clean you up, dear. I need him to keep you alive for the duration. Wouldn’t want you to bleed out on us.”
Stacy was shaking as she begged through her tears, “Please! Please! I swear I did this on my own.”
“Before the doctor gets here, let me make one thing clear. You can keep all ten of your fingers if you pay the price.”
“W-w-what?”
“Tell me, my dear, how do I get into Beck Castle?”
* * *
“Let me get this straight. There was an explosion in the church?” Benjamin Black was in his quarters at Walt Disney World. He had instructed Jessica to brief him immediately upon her return - day or night.
“Yeah, it was massive. We were two blocks away, and it damn near blew out our eardrums.”
“You’re saying Sterling and the regional governors are dead?”
“I don’t think so. The president’s motorcade raced away less than a minute after the bomb went off. Then some moron was running down the street trying to catch up to it. I’m not sure, but it looked like Jackson Butler, that wannabe-celebrity in The Pulse Zone.”
“What happened to Butler?”
“I wish we could say we shot him dead, but we never had a clear shot.”
“This is amazing! I don’t know what to say. It looks like the UAE is near death.”
“If that bomb had managed to kill Sterling, the UAE would be dead.”
“What happened to Sterling? Where did he go?”
“Based on his direction of travel, I assume he went directly to the main security checkpoint at the Miami-Dade Metro police headquarters.”
“Who the hell bombed the place?”
“The only guess that makes sense is the PSA.”
“This far south? We haven’t seen anything that resembles a PSA presence outside their borders.”
“Then who else could it be?”
“My guess is the man who got away.”
“Butler? He’s Sterling’s golden boy.”
“Power play? Not a smart one if the big man got away.”
“Maybe his plan didn’t go as expected.”
Ben sat for a moment in quiet contemplation. He lit a cigar and poured them both a drink. “Sterling has to pass right in front of our gates to get out of Florida. The only drivable roads lead straight here, and with McClellan crippled from the recent attack, it will take time for them to get reinforcements here.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We roll out the red carpet for our president, what else?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When the news of the assassination of six of the seven remaining regional governors spread across the country, the Unified American Empire plunged into anarchy. At the insistence of Simon Sterling, none of the regional governors had an assistant or any kind of succession plan in place. Simon wanted total control over the selection of their replacements. With no one to tend to the day-to-day functions in the regions, nothing was accomplished. When word got out that Supreme Commander Moody had also perished in the attack, the UAE brass hesitated to act, lost without clear instruction from their Supreme Commander. Carl Moody also shared his boss’s paranoia and had not proclaimed a second-in-command. High-ranking brass looking to promote up the ranks soon learned that if they stuck their neck out too far it would get chopped off. No one dared step up to run things
in case the rumors of Sterling’s or Moody’s demise were proven false. No troops were deployed, no houses searched; checkpoints were vacated, and potential terrorists were never executed. The people were not sad to see their oppressors vanish without replacement. People across the nation celebrated their liberation from the Unified American Empire.
Likewise, another group of people was thrilled to see the regional governors dead. The Silent Warriors could finally move out of The Pulse Zone and operate with impunity in the Rockies and along the West Coast. Many would view their tactics as cowardly, moving in stealth and destroying innocent lives. The terror felt by those in The Pulse Zone seeped across the nation. The Silent Warriors destroyed power plants and water treatment centers and continued their mutilation of the interstate highway system.
Millions of Americans took advantage of the absence of power and organized militias to battle the crippled Unified National Guard. They were not fighting for democracy or patriotism, but for territory alone. Fortified communities like those in the Middle Ages became the norm. Towns were blockaded and secured from outside attack. Communities waged war with each other over fresh water sources and hunting grounds. The former United States was being sliced up into territories controlled by powerful men who could keep their communities safe from the dwindling forces of the Unified National Guard. Benjamin Black’s community at Walt Disney World became the standard to emulate.
Oklahoma City was the first to barricade a large section of the metropolitan area and post armed guards at all entry points. Men and women worked frantically to overturn eighteen wheelers across roads and build walls. They sent out hit-and-run squads to engage the Unified National Guard, wiping them out and stealing their vehicles and weapons. Benjamin Black himself was proud of their organizational skills. Soon, many cities followed suit - Kansas City, Dallas, St. Louis, Phoenix, Detroit, Chicago and others.
* * *
Upon his return to Beck Castle from Seattle, Howard bypassed his personal quarters and made a beeline for the command center. He spent the better part of the day reviewing the daily functions of the PSA. The impending invasion of California was his primary concern. With Hal’s assistance, Howard spent hours reviewing satellite footage of the coastal regions where Dupree’s troops would make landfall. He also kept a close eye on the UAE’s military presence in the region so Richard could lead precise surgical strikes to take them out.
“Sir, I have some troubling news. The cruise ships are under attack from a Chinese submarine.”
Howard remained silent.
“Sir, did you hear me?”
Silence.
“Sir, the cruise ships are under attack from the Chinese. General Dupree’s flagship is under heavy fire.”
“That’s not possible!”
“Sir, I assure you it is taking place at this very moment.”
Howard tried to remain focused, but he felt reality slipping away. Throughout his fifty-nine years, he’d been prone to mental meltdowns when extremely traumatic events occurred. When his beloved Meredith passed away, he spent six months locked away in his mansion without ever uttering a single word. If not for Hal and his service robots, Howard would have starved to death.
“Sir, please stay with me. I need you to focus.” No stranger to Howard’s current mental state, Hal mixed a high concentration of oxygen and a mild stimulant into the ventilation system. “Howard! Listen to me!”
Hal’s use of his name instead of the customary “sir” snapped Howard from his reverie. “Hal, tell me everything.”
“The Freedom of the Seas has taken four direct hits from a Chinese submarine. The fourth one struck the bow just under the bridge. Captain Konkoly and most of the bridge crew were killed. General Dupree was thrown from the ship. I deployed a drone to retrieve him, and he was placed in one of twelve lifeboats the crew managed to be deployed.”
“Twelve? That’s it?”
“Yes, sir. The remaining two vessels were able to monitor the attack and were more successful in deploying their lifeboats. I counted fifty-two lifeboats from the two remaining ships. All three vessels have been mortally wounded and will be lost.”
“Max?”
“I have been unable to locate Director Harris. He is not in any of the lifeboats. The assumption is that he is still on the vessel.”
“Find him, Hal! Focus all your efforts on locating him!”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is a disaster. The Chinese?”
“Sir, I have more urgent news.”
“Jesus, Hal. What?”
“I’m getting reports from the funeral of Regional Governor Weygandt. It seems a bomb went off during the service. It appears that everyone in attendance was killed. However, during my review of the satellite footage, a motorcade was spotted leaving the church shortly after the explosion.”
“Sterling’s alive?”
“Yes, sir, the evidence does suggest that.”
“Who planted the bomb? The Chinese?”
“That would be my guess, sir.”
“On the one hand, we have a tragedy of epic proportions. On the other hand, we have the greatest news since the collapse.”
“Indeed, sir.”
“What can we do for the cruise ships? What’s their status?”
“Sir, the Freedom of the Seas is sixty-seven percent submerged. Barring another impact from the submarine, she will go down in less than ten minutes. The Independence of the Seas has received four direct impacts and is twenty-three percent submerged; she will go down in less than twenty minutes. The Voyager of the Seas managed to maneuver herself behind the first two ships which bought her time while the submarine changes course to intercept. She is continuing to deploy her lifeboats to aide in the rescue mission.”
“Do we have any assets that can stage a rescue?”
“No, sir, we do not. There are no vessels within range.”
“How far off the coast are they?”
“Fifty-two miles, sir.”
“God help them.”
The Pacific States of America was facing the greatest challenge of its short history. Previous to the demise of the UAE, the PSA went to great lengths to liberate the tired and desperate refugees who were brave enough to attempt to make it across their borders. With the threat of the UAE weakening by the day, the PSA could not accommodate the millions of people attempting to enter their peaceful sanctuary. Hal, the trusted artificial intelligence securing the PSA, soon had to repel the droves of people streaming cross the border. Howard Beck’s dream of returning the former United States to her former glory now became a futile endeavor. The only way his dream would come to fruition would be to reassemble the broken pieces of the entire nation. He had assumed that Simon Sterling would at least hold the country together until his defeat. Howard never dreamed the UAE would be vanquished in a single day. With a Chinese invasion force on the shores of California, Howard would soon find his worse fears had become a reality.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Maxwell Harris couldn’t feel his left leg. The nerve branching off from his crushed L2 vertebra had been pinched in his broken spine. He’d lost sensation in most of his groin and buttocks and could barely feel his right leg. All Max could do was stare at the stars shining through the hole in the bridge’s roof…and scream.
Max dragged himself across the floor to the lifeless body of Captain Konkoly and groped about for his radio, relieved to find it lodged securely in the dead man’s pocket.
“Help! I need help! This is Maxwell Harris, I’m trapped on the bridge and I need help!”
Four hundred nine yards away, one of Hal’s drones picked up the transmission and flew to the bridge. “Sir, this is Hal. Help is on the way; you are safe.”
“My wife! Please find my wife!”
“I’m here, Max!” Elizabeth Harris said as she climbed through the shattered doors leading into the bridge.
“I broke my back. I can’t move my legs.”
“You’re alive, sweetie! L
et’s get you out of here.” Elizabeth motioned to the small drone hovering nearby. “Hal?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have a larger drone en route that will assist you in evacuating the ship.” Seconds later, a massive drone landed on the bridge. Arms and legs snapped out from its side as it stood upright and became a Hal robot. The anthropomorphic extension of Hal’s programming looked like a headless human. In the center of the robot’s chest was a bright red, glowing fish-eye lens in honor of Hal’s namesake. “Ma’am, if you will assist me, we can get you both out of here.”
“Hal, you’re a lifesaver.” Elizabeth and the Hal robot took Max by the arms and stood him up. The robot extended both arms and cradled Max like a baby. The pain was more than Max could bear.
“Max, honey, we’re getting you out of here.” Two six-inch metal plates extended from the robot’s knees and Elizabeth stepped on, wrapping her arms around the Hal robot’s torso. “Hal, can you carry us both?”
“Yes, ma’am, I can carry three times this weight. Hold on. I’m going to fly you to the nearest lifeboat.” With thrusters blazing from the robots arms and feet, the three hovered out of the bridge and slowly descended at a forty-five degree angle towards the nearest lifeboat.
* * *
“Sir, I have transported Max and Elizabeth to the safety of a lifeboat.”
“That’s good news! Thank you, Old Man.”
“You are welcome, sir.”
“Are they okay?”
“Sir, Elizabeth is fine. Max, on the other hand, is severely injured. My scans detect that his L2 vertebra has been shattered and the L2 nerve pinched. He is almost completely paralyzed from the waist down.”
Dammit, Max. Why can’t you catch a break? “What’s the status on the third cruise ship?”
“Sir, the majority of the crew is on lifeboats. The submarine has intercepted the third ship and has opened fire.”
“This is a nightmare. We should be doing something.”
“Sir, my drones are doing a great deal to help.”
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