The Shelter: WAR

by Ira Tabankin

  The audience again laughs.

  The President shows doctored charts of temperature increases in the South over the previous one hundred years. “They’ve been affected by the climate warming, they’re really not responsible for their actions. They can’t control certain sections of their brains. We have to help them.

  Seriously, I thought this issue was settled over one-hundred and fifty years ago. Did we travel back through time? Did we enter the Twilight Zone? I think maybe the people in the south have been corrupted by their leaders who have visions of creating an empire. Can you believe that? They want to create an empire on the land where our forefathers spilled their blood to ensure we have a single Union. I know we all feel betrayed by these Governors. They’ve led their people astray. I remember when Michelle and I had our first visit to the South, we felt there might have been something just a little bit off with them. Everywhere we looked, people carried Bibles, they greeted each other with verses from the Bible. They told each other they hoped they had a blessed day. They proved they were racists. They excluded Muslims, not once did we hear any of them say “Allah Akbar.” Not once did we hear a Buddhist greeting, even though we’re good Christians we couldn’t believe the backwardness of these people. Not only were we surprised by their Bible thumping, many openly carried guns! Some carried them under their t-shirts, many wore them openly on their hips. I said then and I repeat, there is something very wrong with hundreds of thousands of people who cling to their Bibles and guns. People who have fought us when in our mercy we’ve tried to resettle the poor, misunderstood Middle Eastern refugees in their states. They’ve fought us, they’ve tried to push the refugees out of their towns and states. They’ve passed laws requiring the poorest of us to have a photo ID before they can vote, they’ve placed an undue burden on the people government is sworn to protect. Now, when we’re facing an issue that affects all of us; when China is demanding repayment of their loans to us, they decide they don’t want to pay their fair share. They want to take their toys and go home, leaving us to pay their share of the national debt. They think they’re special, they think they don’t have to play by the same set of rules the rest of us do.

  Two days ago the thirteen Southern Governors paid me a visit. They came to explain and ask for huge personal payoffs to call off the secession. They admitted they rigged the election and for a sum of twenty million in gold, paid to each of them, they would return everything to the way it was. I know some of you don’t believe me. I’m now going to show a few minutes of the taped confessions from each Governor; hear their confessions in their own words. You’ll see there are no marks on their faces. They have not been beaten or forced to say these things. They offered to take a lie detector to prove the truth of what they offered. Let’s watch them confess so everyone can see the entire scheme of their new Confederacy is nothing more than a plan to make themselves rich while their people suffered. I did not fall for their trick. I asked the DHS to arrest the Governors after they made their confessions. I’ll show you each of them in their cells where they’ll spend the rest of their lives for abusing their office and trying to blackmail the US Federal Government.”

  He plays the highly edited recordings of each governor admitting the blackmail. The governors look and act almost normal. They’re wearing clean and pressed suits. They look normal, most people don’t realize they’ve been drugged because the cameras don’t show their eyes.

  The next series of videos shows the governors sitting on their beds in a small jail cell. Each has an open Bible on their beds.

  “Notice, these elected officials who promised their people a new beginning, were secretly scheming to blackmail us. Yes, us. If they left the Union, each of your share of the national debt would increase. If we paid them the twenty-million each of them wanted, it would have had to come out of your taxes. Either way, they were reaching into your pockets to pay them. Either we were going to have to pay them blood money to stay or blood money after they left. Is this the type of people our brothers and sisters in the South elect to their state’s highest office? We’ve had problems with some of their governors before. I believe there are three of them currently serving time in Federal prisons.

  The South has proven they can’t rule themselves, they’ve proven they can’t be allowed to have the chance to try this stunt again. Therefore, I’ve signed an Executive Order placing the thirteen Southern states under martial law. The DHS and DoJ will appoint their Governors. The Department of Education will ensure their schools strictly follow the Common Core Curriculum. I don’t trust their police forces to have the best interests of their people. As such, I’ve ordered the DHS to replace the local and state police with armed DHS agents. I’ve also signed an Executive Order ordering the confiscation of all firearms in private hands in the thirteen states because I believe their recent election proves the people of the South are not in their right minds.”

  The audience goes crazy, many are screaming “Impeachment, impeachment!” Others are cheering the President’s announcement. He holds up his hands to quiet the crowd.

  “There’s more I want to share with you. I’ve issued orders to ensure the failed leadership of the South…”

  The lights go out across the Northeast, Midwest and Central States. People calmly wait for the power to be restored. Local power failures after the financial crisis; and the President’s Executive Orders to abolish the nation's coal mines, has made power interruption the norm.

  Unknown to the President or the people in the audience the power grid won’t be coming on anytime soon. The Confederate B1 bombers launched cruise missiles at the major power grid junction points. Other B1s fired cruise missiles that spread small fibers of capacitors which shorted the grid out.

  Other B1s struck the main water treatment plants for Chicago, New York City, Boston and Washington D.C. All of the Confederate planes returned home without a single loss.

  The President’s secret service staff’s secure radios buzzed alerting them to the air attack on the country.

  “Mr. President, we have to go. The country is under attack. The power grid is down; water treatment plants have been attacked. Millions are going to suffer and possibly die. We don’t know if this is the start of a massive attack. We have to get you to a secure shelter.”

  “How did they do it?”

  “Sir?”

  “Attack us. I thought we bombed their LT Governors. There shouldn’t have been anyone left to give any attack orders.”

  “Sir, all of our B52s were shot down before they reached their targets.”

  “What? Why wasn’t I told?”

  “Sir, I don’t know. We have to get away right now. They could be targeting this location as we speak.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Mount Weather, it’s the closest and most secure shelter large enough for all of the government to fit.”

  “NO! Mount Weather is in the South. How about Mount Raven?”

  “Sir, we’ll check. Sir, Raven is to small.”

  “I don’t need all of the Congressional assholes joining me. Let them suffer in the dark with no clean water. They fought my agenda anyway. Take my family and me to Raven.”

  “Yes, sir. Marine One is fifteen minutes out.”

  The audience realizes this blackout is different. They begin to panic and rush for the studio exits. They trample those in front of them. Eight are trampled to death by people trying to escape the feared attack. People are screaming and begging for help and mercy as their president flees to his safe place.

  @@@@@

  Jay and his closest friends watch the President’s town hall meeting; they shake their heads watching the edited videos of the Governors confessing their sins. Tony shakes his head, “They’ve been drugged. Look at their eyes, watch how they move. Their words don’t flow together. They’ve been drugged and the video highly edited.”

  “What can we do about it? Most of the country is going to believe it. Hell, most of our own people will m
ost likely believe it. They’ll rise against both the North and us. They’ll never trust the government again. I have to admit, he’s smarter than I thought he was. He pulled a fast one with that fake video.”

  John looks up from his tablet, “I don’t know how many will see the video. Something just happened to their power grid, more than half of the country is suffering a total black out. There are also odd reports that Chicago, New York, Washington D.C. and Boston should boil their water before using it.”

  Fred smiles shaking his head, “Let me understand this, they have no electrical power and they’re broadcasting an urgent health message to people who have very little chance of seeing or hearing it? I guess that’s one way to say they warned the public. I wonder what happened.”

  Everyone looks at Jay. Tony smiles, “Spill it. You either had a hand in this or you know what happened. Come on Mr. Governor. Please share with your voters who are dying to know what’s going on.”

  “I guess I can trust you to keep your mouths shut. I’ll be announcing it in let me check.” Jay checks his tablet which is counting down to zero. “In thirty-three minutes.”

  “Come on buddy, announce what? What did we do?”

  “Can’t wait thirty-two minutes?”

  Lacy throws an empty paper cup at Jay, “Come on, our inquiring minds want to know.”

  “We fired cruise missiles from our B1 bombers at the junction point of their grid and we also fired cruise missiles with some sort of science fiction warhead. It flies over the plants dropping something on the plant which shorts it out. I admit, I don’t understand how the warhead works. As to the water, some cruise missiles must have landed on someone’s treatment plants.”

  Tony, Fred, and John laugh at the problems the North finds itself in. Lacy looks at the others, “Are many going to die? Are many children going to be hurt?”

  The room falls silent; everyone turns to look at Jay. “I don’t know what the projected causality rate is. It wasn’t discussed. They sent bombers to attack the other LT Governors and me, they targeted us. They targeted ME! They targeted all of us! If they bombed us, we wouldn’t be sitting here; many of us would be dead. We didn’t use explosive weapons to kill their people. We only wanted to discomfort them. Don’t you see the difference?”

  The silence in the room is broken by John, who replies,

  “They tried to kill you and you responded by turning out their lights. I don’t think you went far enough.”

  The others nod their heads in agreement.

  “I don’t want to kill innocents. I agreed to the attack to give them a taste of what will happen if they continue to attack us.”

  “Jay, next time hit D.C., their people will love you for it.”

  “I’m hoping there won’t be a next time. D.C. is blacked out and we struck their water plant. I hope the President will see the suffering of his people and just let us go.”

  Lacy shakes her head, “You sound almost like Moses in the movie the Ten Commandments. You know, now that you gave him a bloody nose in public he’s not going to let us go. He shares that trait with the ancient Pharaohs. He’s going to have to fight us until he’s totally defeated or dead. I hope God is on our side as he was on Moses’ side. We’re going to need him in this fight.”

  “Yes, we are. I worry every minute of the day about what happens next.”

  They’re interrupted by the alarm sounding on the farm. Everyone stops whatever they’re doing, they rush towards the rear door. Jay’s positioned an armory next to the back door, everyone grabs an M4 and bag or vest of loaded magazines as they run towards their attack positions.

  Jay lifts the red handset.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Dad, Todd here. General Arthur called in, he’s opened his attack on the ISIS soldiers moving east on I-40. He wanted us to know and be alert for any leakers.”

  “Excellent report. Thank you. Todd, keep up the great work.”

  @@@@@

  Al Afi is caught off guard when his soldiers are taken under attack by an unknown force ten miles before they reach Nashville.

  “Take two hundred men and work your way around the blocking force. Come around and attack them from the rear. Take our best men and hurry, we’re losing too many people. They caught us out in the open while they’re dug in and hidden. So far they’re winning.”

  “Yes, sir. I need some time to work my people around behind them. They have all six lanes of traffic covered.”

  Before Al Afi can respond, he’s surprised by mortar rounds falling on his troops. He hears their screaming as rounds explode over the Muslims, who are laying on the road trying to find a place to hide from the incoming rounds. Shell fragments strike them on their backs and the back of their legs. The struck troops scream in pain and beg for mercy, they beg for Allah’s help.

  General Arthur smiles watching his mortar teams drop rounds in perfect locations to keep them pinned down. Lifting the radio handset,

  “Major, take your people and hit them on the left, Colonel take yours and hit them on the right. I’m going to increase the mortar rounds falling on them, that will keep their heads down. Go in five minutes from my mark. Ready? Five, four, three, two, one, mark. Five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Major smiles thinking they are going to crush the ISIS attackers, maybe forever.

  “Yes, sir.” Snapping to attention said the recently promoted Colonel Black. He can’t help it, every once in a while he touches the new Eagle rank tab on the front of his uniform. He too believes they’re going to crush Al Afi’s troops so that he won’t be able to attack them again.

  Chapter 22

  A small drone, the size of a paper airplane is silently flying recon missions looking for the Cartel and ISIS. Colonel Black is woken by the phone ringing.

  “Colonel Black.”

  “Colonel, we have a hit on drone 3, she’s picked up a large force of Cartel soldiers moving in our direction. They’re moving North on I-65.”

  “How far are they and how many?”

  “They are still in Alabama, there are at least two thousand people. There is a long caravan of pickups and SUVs traveling at 35MPH.”

  “Track and plot them, I’ll be there in five, call Colonel Black so we can coordinate an attack.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ten minutes later Major Walker and Colonel Black are leaning over a computer table looking at the Cartel’s trek up I-65. Colonel Black expands a section of the map.

  “Major, right here looks like a perfect place to ambush them. They will be making a series of blind turns around these curves. There’s enough room on the side of the road to hide the tanks and APCs. If you hurry, you can beat them there and have about an hour to dig in. Can you do it while the Colonel mops up here?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Great. I’ll keep two drones above the area keeping track of the Cartel so they can’t surprise you. Major, hit them hard, kick the fight out of them. I’m tired of them biting us on our ankles every couple of months. We may be able to crush both groups tonight.”

  “Sir, I’ll make sure they are destroyed.”

  “Grab a few people who can tell us where their leader is. If we can locate him, we’ll be able to put an end to their campaign.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Major Walker leads twelve Abrams main battle tanks and twenty-four armored personnel carriers South on I-65 to meet and destroy the Cartel. They arrive at the ambush site early, having ninety minutes to set up their ambush. Lacking sufficient time to dig in all of the tanks, eight of them are pulled back fifteen hundred meters, far enough away to make them hard for the Cartel to see and still be in range to strike their vehicles. The military settles in to wait for the Cartel, who is driving North without a care in the world.

  Major Walker is on the side of a hill with a vertical face where he’s using a laser rangefinder to measure the distance to the Cartel. When the Cartel reaches a point fifteen-hundred-meters from his position he
lifts the handset, “FIRE!”

  Twelve M1 tanks fire SABOT rounds, all strike Cartel trucks; the rounds designed to destroy Russian tanks fly right through and destroy the Cartel’s trucks. The APCs open fire with 50 cal machine guns and 30 mm chain guns. The individual troops are sitting in their foxholes waiting for their chance to get into the fight. The armored vehicles are able to reach out and destroy the Cartel before they’re able to get close enough for them to open fire on the military. The battle ends eight minutes after it started. None of the Cartel trucks survived. The troops pull themselves from their foxholes. They march to the group of burning Cartel trucks. They round up nineteen survivors who they tie together. Major Walker orders three of the tanks to push the debris off the road to keep the highway open for commerce. The Cartel prisoners are made to walk back to a makeshift holding area five miles from the military’s base. General Arthur doesn’t want them to see their base or the farm. A local high school stadium is converted into a holding prison. Razor wire is laid out in circles keeping the prisoners in a small area, easy to guard. Portable generators power the stadium's field lights, keeping the prison area brightly lit twenty-four hours a day.