by Lucien Black
“Today, I have been asked by my superiors within the Protectorate to introduce to you the next stage of the their plan.” He paused again.
Zealot stood behind the camera smiling and nodding his approval.
“To help solidify their new plan and the changing face of our nation, today, The Protectorate unveils to you a new flag for our country…one…one fitting the next era of United States of America.”
The camera eased back, revealing Sam Turner’s desk and behind him the American flag, hung from the ceiling on its side. “This new flag represents a new America.”
A click sounded and a new flag unrolled over the American flag behind Sam Turner.
“A…N-N-N-Nazi A-America,” Turner stuttered.
Behind him, the new flag unfurled over the American flag. The malevolent glory of the new flag rolled down and revealed a black swastika on a red background in place of the 50 stars and black and red stripes replacing the red and white. All around the room, images of the American Flag disappeared and the new flag re-appeared in their place, black, haunting, evil. As the camera pulled back, the front of the desk now supported a Nazi Eagle holding the swastika.
Turner said nothing for a long few minutes but sobbed uncontrollably. Outside the White House, dozens of Protectorate vehicles rolled down the street followed by thousands of Agents on foot. People scattered as agents opened fire and attacked them randomly. In a moment, everything changed. Agents raided every government building, ripping down American flags and replaced them with new Nazi flags.
The Protectorate Elite shouted orders at Agents, commanding them to take prisoners, destroy buildings and create disorder and chaos. Swarms of agents entered libraries, setting them aflame. Synagogue after synagogue fell under attack as Agents began cleansing the American people of their Jewish lineage. Dozens of prisoners lined the streets as Protectorate Agents prepared them for transport.
Back in the White House, Zealot motioned for Turner to begin speaking again. When he finally composed himself, he spoke with a trembled voice, “From this day forward, the United States of America…will forever be known as the National Socialist American States. Under this new Fourth Reich, it is the expectation that each of you…”
Turner paused again. He slipped his hand inside his jack and pulled from it the picture of his wife. Zealot watched carefully, not sure what his intent was, but did not stop the show.
“Marilyn, what have I done,” Turner said.
“Oh this is good,” Zealot said and motioned to keep the cameras rolling.
“My fellow Americans,” Turner said in tears. “I am truly sorry for letting our government fall into the hands of these murderers and deviants. I and I alone am responsible for the heinous crimes these men will commit. I assure you that if I had the chance to make things right, I would do so. So please, I beg of you, stand together, fight.” Turner pulled out his gun and rose from this chair.
“Yes,” Zealot said.
“Don’t let them overtake our country. We overcame tyranny in our past and we can do so again. Revolt like our forefathers did before us,” Turner placed the gun against his chin. “Remember this day the words of Patrick Henry, I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death,” Turner said as Zealot shouted for the transmission to end.
Turner pulled the trigger.
