Holding Their Own VII: Phoenix Star

by Nobody, Joe

Nick gave the remark serious consideration before responding. “Oh, they’ll all be mad as hell, sir. There will be saber rattling, threats, and all sorts of boisterous behavior. Gums will flap, and fingers will be pointed, but it will all pass eventually. You know how these things go, sir, they fade over time. A year from now, if Bishop and Terri make it back safely, no one will even remember it.”

  “And if they don’t return?”

  The scowl that crossed Nick’s face told the answer before his lips ever moved. “A lot of people aren’t going to forgive that, sir. If they die out there in the wilderness, people are going to make them martyrs and blame the federal government for their deaths. The new baby is just going to make matters worse.”

  It was the Colonel’s turn to betray his feelings with a frown. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Nick, but it’s a little difficult for me to believe any leaders, no matter how effective, would be that center-stage in the hearts and minds of the citizens. Especially when they were only involved for a short period of time.”

  Nick nodded, understanding the Colonel’s position. Before he could respond, Moses spoke from his bedside chair. “It’s not that Bishop and Terri were anything so special, Colonel. It’s that any trust in President Moreland has been destroyed. Yes, they are a popular couple and well known, but what will really eat at the citizens of West Texas is that the feds could do the exact same thing to any of them. That’s what will piss people off, sir.”

  Nick smiled, looking at the Colonel and saying, “Remember the Alamo.”

  “Huh?”

  “The Alamo, sir. An insignificant outpost carrying little strategic value. Important, yes it was. Critical, no. Santa Anna and Sam Houston both knew it was a symbol. The Mexican general wanted to make a show of grinding any resistance under the heel of his boot. General Houston needed something to rally the people of Texas against an invading, superior foe. Bishop and Terri, if they don’t survive, will become the Alamo of modern day West Texas. History will show Moreland as wanting to grind the Alliance under the heel of his boot, willing to do anything to destroy the resistance.”

  The Colonel got it. Not only was the point valid, the older man’s respect for Nick increased significantly. He grinned, “Are all of the Alliance leaders as wise as you, young man?”

  Nick grunted, the statement taking him by surprise. “I’m the big dumb clod, sir. Diana, Pete and the others let me handle their light work.”

  Moses laughed at his friend’s comment. “That ain’t no shit. I’d tangle with that big guy laying there any day of the week before I’d mess with Diana.”

  A knock interrupted the conversation, an Army doctor in a white coat entering the room. The man looked up from the clipboard he was studying and addressed Nick, “Feeling okay?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m ready to go home.”

  “Good,” the physician nodded, “I’ll sign your release right away. Good luck.”

  The Colonel rose to leave as well. “General Husk has arranged transportation for Moses and you to go to the airport. There will be a Humvee waiting for you outside the east door. I will see you in Texas in a few days. I can’t exactly say when for sure, but my best guess is that it will be sooner rather than later.”

  Shaking hands with the patient and then Moses, a question from the latter blocked his exit.

  “Sir,” Moses began. “Before you go, would it be possible to take Grim and his family with us back to West Texas?”

  The Colonel thought about that for a moment and then nodded. “I don’t see why not. I’ll ask General Husk to modify the orders. Best of luck, gentlemen.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter 16

  Camp David, Maryland

  August 3

  Agent Powell opened the conference room door and then followed Mr. White inside. The stoic bodyguard assumed his normal position next to the entrance.

  Mr. White wasn’t overly surprised by the summons, nor was he taken aback by the meeting’s attendees. Walking calmly to an empty chair, he nodded at each man, “Mr. President, General, Colonel.”

  After he was seated, President Moreland cleared his throat. “Mr. White, some disturbing evidence has been presented to me by General Owens and the Colonel. I’m a fair man and wanted to give you a chance to tell your side of the story.”

  The spook played coy. “Concerning what matter, sir?”

  Anger flashed across the chief executive’s face, “You know damn good and well what matter, sir. The recent massacre in West Texas.”

  White shrugged his shoulders and toyed with a pencil. “I wasn’t aware there was any issue with that operation, Mr. President. To the best of my knowledge, it was executed as designed, and the results are beginning to prove it was a solid strategic move.”

  If the Commander in Chief was frustrated by the response, he didn’t show it. “So you admit ordering operatives under your command to execute two dozen National Guardsmen in cold blood?”

  “Yes, sir, that was the contingency option, but part of the operation you agreed to, Mr. President.”

  Moreland sat stunned for a moment, staring across the table at Mr. White. “I ordered no such thing, sir. I gave my blessing to provide an opportunity for a known killer to sabotage the Alliance, but nothing more. We were to give the man a rope and hope he hanged himself. I never gave you the authority to put him on the gallows via the murder of innocents.”

  “Mr. President,” White began, his tone full of exasperation. “Clearly you understood the intent of the mission. You yourself introduced me as a counter-insurgency expert. Would you have these men believe you weren’t aware of the operational parameters?”

  The President looked over at Owens and the Colonel. “Yes, Mr. White, what these men believe is important to me. You’ve not only committed high crimes, you’ve made the situation in West Texas worse.”

  White seemed confused by the statement, throwing a puzzled glance at the Colonel.

  Shaking his head in disgust, the Colonel said, “Right now there are meetings occurring all over West Texas. The people are seeing video confessions and a recorded apology from General Owens. I expect those Texans to rally against this atrocity. It wouldn’t surprise me if they started a war. One thing’s for certain, your actions have tainted this administration. There’s no way we are going to negotiate any agreement the way things stand right now.”

  General Owens spoke up next, staring hard at his Commander in Chief. “I can’t believe you would even authorize the trap, sir. When I joined the Independents, I believed you an honorable man. When I pledged my division to the cause, I did so with confidence… sure I was joining an organization that would set our course on a path to liberty and constitutional governance. Now I find myself a pawn in a political chess game by men who seem to grasp no reward but power. It sickens me, sir.”

  White leaned back laughing, “Mr. President, this is ridiculous. These two boy scouts haven’t a clue what’s at stake. Our country is dying, and we took drastic steps. Yes, West Texas will need some cleaning up, but our cause is still righteous and just. We have to keep the union together – regardless of the sacrifices.”

  Moreland seemed in shock. His face pale, his hands toying absentmindedly with a notepad on the table. When he finally looked up at his subordinates, his expression could only be described as melancholy. “You’re right, General. I went over the line. Please do me the favor of returning to West Texas and negotiating with those people. I will issue a formal apology and an executive order forbidding any outside interference with their efforts to recover. We can mend the union later.”

  Mr. White exploded, his fist slamming onto the table. “You can’t do that! My God, Mr. President, do you have any idea what you just said? You’re giving them permission to form their own country!”

  “We obviously aren’t capable or deserving, Mr. White,” the President responded. “We have lost any trust, faith or confidence the people of that region had in our federal government. Let them take their own co
urse to recovery. They seem to be doing better than we are.”

  White was obviously losing control. His eyes darted between a smirking Colonel and a stoic General Owens. “This is treason, sir! High treason! I beg you, Mr. President, reconsider the consequences of your actions!”

  “No… no, I’m sure, Mr. White,” Moreland began. “We will focus on Operation Heartland and …”

  A pistol appeared in White’s hand, the oddly shaped firearm made of plastic and of an unusual design. Agent Powell, already alerted by the rising tempers in the room, reached for his sidearm.

  The passage of time slowed in the conference room, the Colonel’s brain sending commands to grab the firearm. Owens, seated closer to the gunman, was coiling to spring for the same weapon.

  Practically simultaneously, two shots roared through the enclosed space with a deafening thunder.

  Mr. White looked down at the small pinpoint of black, now showing prominently against the backdrop of the starched-bright shirt. His hand moved to the middle of his chest, the pistol falling from his grip and clambering off the table. His eyes fluttered as he fell to the floor.

  All attention then turned to the president just as the chief executive’s head slammed onto the conference table with a sickening thud.

  A moment later, Agent Powell pulled his boss upright, urgently moving to check for any wound. A small circle of red appeared on the President’s forehead. His eyes were open, but completely void of life.

  Alpha, Texas

  August 4

  The Blackhawk zoomed low over the courthouse, startling Diana and causing Nick to rush to the window. He made it in time to see the tail of the bird heading east over downtown Alpha.

  The big man experienced a feeling of pride as his militia was already scrambling to their defensive positions, men running here and there, carrying load gear and weapons.

  Turning to Diana, he said, “I hope some crazy-ass son of a bitch hasn’t decided to break the ceasefire. It’s not a good day to die.”

  Gathering up her papers and laptop to make for the basement, the Alliance’s leader was pale and clearly worried. “Who knows,” she replied without looking up. “Somebody cut off the head of the snake – the body may thrash around for a while.”

  Nick, throwing on his own armor and kit, agreed. Thinking of the forces aligned against them at Hood and Bliss, he mumbled, “And that’s one hell of a big body.”

  The thumping of rotors again vibrated the old building’s windows, the dark shape of a military bird drawing everyone’s eye. Nick relaxed just a bit when he saw two white stars painted on the tail. “I think our visitors are friendly, but why don’t you head to the shelter anyway?”

  As if on cue, two armed men arrived at Diana’s doorway, ready to escort her to the lower level. If things got dicey, they had access to a vehicle and would rush the Alliance’s highest elected official to safety.

  Nick looked from the window to the two bodyguards and held up a hand. “Hold on a second, guys. I think our illustrious leader is going to be in demand.”

  The Blackhawk made a third appearance, this time practically hovering. Nick smiled when the copter began its descent, the pilot obviously aiming to land in a nearby park. “Relax everybody. They’re not here to fight. I think this is a diplomatic visit.”

  “Why didn’t they just drive the Humvee as usual?” Diana asked, moving to the window beside Nick. “Seems like a waste of fuel to fly in.”

  “Maybe they’re in a hurry.”

  A short time later, Nick, Diana, and a squad of the militia’s best were bouncing down the courthouse steps and strolling toward the park.

  The military transport was just touching down as they rounded the corner, dust and a cloud of debris rising from the earth as the wheels touched down.

  Three men exited the craft, ducking low and hustling away from the rotor wash. The pilot cut the engine.

  Diana and her party observed from the edge of the park. She smiled up at Nick and beamed. “If it’s an invasion, it’s a damned small one.”

  Nick nodded, “The federal government has been cutting back lately.”

  Turning to the squad spread out behind him, Nick dismissed the volunteers and ordered the alert be canceled. “Tell everyone to chill,” were his exact words.

  When the three visitors ventured closer, Nick’s face wrinkled in a frown. “They sent the A-team. The Colonel, Generals Owens and Westfield. Must be the all-star game.”

  “Well, let’s find out,” Diana responded and began stepping toward the visitors with a smile on her face. Nick had to hustle to keep up.

  Extending her hand to General Owens, she greeted, “Welcome to Alpha, General. To what do we owe this honor?”

  General Owens turned to his party and pointed, “Miss Brown, this is General Westfield, commander of Fort Bliss. I believe you’ve met the Colonel.”

  After handshakes were exchanged, General Westfield stood ramrod stiff and squared his shoulders. “I am here to negotiate the terms of surrender for the forces under my command.”

  Owens stepped forward next, taking the same formal posture. “And I am here to negotiate the terms of surrender for the forces under my command.”

  The Colonel winked at Nick and then faced Diana, “I’m here to make sure these two fine gentlemen aren’t overwhelmed by your legendary charm, ma’am.”

  Alpha was abuzz over the appearance of the military transport. Like any small town, rumors and gossip spread like wildfire. Were it not for Nick’s cancelation of the alert, most of the chatter would have put the local citizens on edge.

  Council members rushing to the town didn’t help the situation at all. When Phil, the local ham radio operator, sent a message to the nearby towns requesting Pete, DA Gibson, and other elected representatives report to the courthouse, the entire territory hummed with anticipation. Something was in the air, and it was big. After the protection detail was dismissed, those militiamen set the record straight, repeating over and over again the word “surrender.”

  “As you are no doubt aware, President Moreland was assassinated a few days ago,” the Colonel began. “The federal government is in complete disarray, leaderless and floundering. The only duly elected government operating in North America at the moment is right here in West Texas.”

  “What’s going to happen, Colonel?” Diana asked, a troubled expression dominating her face.

  “Oh, they’ll figure out something in Washington. They always do. So far, the Operation Heartland regional commanders are carrying on, business as usual. But those military units not directly associated with that operation are now completely without support.”

  General Westfield cleared his throat and added, “I have over 36,000 men and women at Bliss. Dependents almost double that number. We have only a few days of remaining food. Not so long ago, your Alliance approached us and asked for our surrender. While I thought it was preposterous at the time, I now find myself without any other reasonable alternative.”

  Owens was next, “Fort Hood, several smaller commands, and the territory’s Air Force bases are in similar situations. There are over 50,000 service men and women at Hood alone, and that’s not counting families. They’ve been rationing food for the last five days.”

  Diana was having trouble controlling her emotions, unsure of how to react. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I don’t know what to say… I’m stunned. Our top objective is to feed the people, and so far, we’ve been blessed with good weather and excellent harvests. But this is a little overwhelming. You’re talking about 100,000 or more new mouths to feed. You’ll pardon my lack of immediate celebration.”

  “That’s 150 tons of food, per day!” Pete offered, shaking his head.

  “We know it’s a daunting task, but the alternative isn’t pretty. We considered disbanding the forces, but then there would be tens of thousands of desperate, well-armed men roaming the countryside. Some of the mid-level officers might decide to take matters into their own hands. Anything could happen,” W
estfield offered. “Most of them are aware of your success here. You would probably end up with another flood of immigrants and have to worry about feeding them anyway.”

  Nick shifted uncomfortably at the end of the table, “The good news is we would inherit a very powerful military force overnight. Washington, when they do get their act together, would think twice about trying to bully us again.”

  Diana stood and moved to the window, staring out over the peaceful streets of the tiny Texas town. “We can’t let them starve, I suppose,” she mumbled. “Still, I’m at a loss regarding how to proceed.”

  The Colonel spoke up, his voice reassuring. “You don’t have to change a thing, Miss Brown. Just repeat exactly what you’ve done here. There’s no different solution or plan of action required. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, only on a larger scale.”

  Diana spun and glared at the speaker; her tone had an edge. “That’s easy for you to say, Colonel. We’re barely holding it together right now. My staff and I are working 16 hour days as it is.” She then turned her attention to General Owens, “And your ex-boss’s efforts to undermine some of our best leaders didn’t help matters, General.”

  Owens looked down at the table, his inflection sincere. “I didn’t know, Miss Brown. I give you my word as an officer, I didn’t know. We’ve all executed regretful actions. I hope we can get beyond that.”

  Silence hung in the room, everyone recalling the events of the past few months. The Colonel finally spoke up. “Those military bases aren’t simply nests of hungry baby birds waiting to be fed worms, Miss Brown. They have some of the best leadership in the world, extensive transportation, and engineering capabilities and loads of highly motivated people. They need leadership, a cause to believe in, and a wee bit of a jumpstart. Most importantly, they need hope for the future. I would venture the vast majority still believe strongly in democracy, our constitution, and civilian control over the military. Give them those things and I’m sure the returns will justify the investment.”