TYRANT: The Rise

by L. Douglas Hogan

  Trash and debris could be seen sitting stationary on the road. In other spots, the trash blew across the streets, making them remember the old Western movies where tumbleweed rolled through town.

  The convoy came to a stop and the Marines exited the vehicles. The gunners in the turrets did not leave, but stayed and maintained a defensive posture against a possible attack or surprise ambush. Several others were on foot. Urban warfare has proven, throughout history, to be one of the most dangerous and dreaded ways to fight.

  Nathan remembered driving through Murphy just a few short years ago and seeing dozens of Black Hawks flying low through the small city. The news reports said that the military and police were conducting training missions and emergency deployments. Nobody could understand why American troops and police were training in American cities. Before, they had trained in mock towns and simulated force-on-force combat, but as time progressed, FOX News had discovered that there was a large-scale training program currently underway. Every police department and military unit was being utilized and FEMA was overseeing the training operation, by order of the president. It wasn’t until the Flip that it was understood why the training op was on such a grand scale.

  The Flip didn’t go as planned. When America was taken captive by a tyrannical government, the people resisted, causing widespread rioting. The rioting and mobs only justified the reasoning behind more executive orders until the government’s grip on society was so tight that it suffocated. The military and police couldn’t maintain control of the mobs and weren’t being compensated enough to make it worth the effort. But mostly, the reason it had failed was because America’s military and police were, by and far, more patriotic than tyrannical. A few stuck around, but not enough to make a difference.

  Buchanan, Nathan, and the other Marines were stacked against the wall of an old electronics store, making their way to the corner of Route 149 and Fifteenth Street. The intersection was wide.

  “This is about where they had all their vehicles staged,” Nathan said. “They came running out of those buildings there and from over there.” Nathan gave directions, pointing with his hands.

  Buchanan could tell that there had been minor combat at a minimum. There were locations where moderate grenade-sized explosions had taken out doorways and storefronts. The corners of some of the buildings were knocked out.

  Nathan glanced over at one of the old antique shops and saw what was left of a dead man. “Obviously the victim of a grenade kill,” he said.

  They were now stacked at the corner of the storefront. Buchanan peeked around the corner and saw a company of UN troops and vehicles, consisting of about thirty vehicles in all. Most of them were armored personnel carriers with mounted light machine guns. Standing apart from the company of APCs were three formations of UN troops with about fifty to seventy-five troops in each formation.

  Buchanan backed the line of Marines up and away from their current position. Fearing they had only a brief window of opportunity, Buchanan returned them to their antitank equipment, where he gave them a brief speech.

  “Listen up, gents. These jerkies are in way over their heads. Today’s going to be a bad day, for them. They have found themselves on US soil, where we are supreme and have the home-field advantage.”

  Buchanan opened up his notepad and called his platoon sergeants in for a quick briefing.

  “Edwards, I want you to take a CAAT platoon and double back that way. Come back around to this location, approximately one block from here. Martin, I want you to take another CAAT platoon to this location and set up right here. Me, Nathan, and Quintin will move into this position. If all pans out correctly, they will have no avenue of escape and will not be able to return to their APCs. Whatever happens, do not leave a survivor. We are not taking POWs, and we are not letting them reach their com. TOWs I want you to focus early in on those personnel carriers while heavy guns lay down some fire on everything that lives, breathes, or moves. Do you understand?”

  Everybody nodded their heads in agreement, and Buchanan released them to return to their units. The vehicles fired up, and every unit went to their preassigned area of responsibility.

  It seemed all too easy as the Marine units arrived almost simultaneously, opening fire on the United Nations units while they stood in formation.

  Buchanan knew that this type of warfare would never have been allowed before the Flip. As far as Buchanan and the others were concerned, the rules of engagement had changed. No longer were they under the Geneva Convention Rules of Engagement, but were now living in a new world, where survival was of the fittest, and these invaders were not a single nation, but a conglomeration of nations.

  After the victory over the UN invaders, Nathan was walking amongst the destruction of the Russian-made equipment when he heard radio chatter coming through the frequencies of the radios that had not been destroyed in the attack. He heard a Middle Eastern accent speaking in clear English come on the radio.

  “Guys, guys, over here,” Nathan called to Buchanan and the other Marines.

  They all ran to where Nathan was, next to a BMP, and he said, “Listen.”

  They listened closely.

  The radio signal was broken, but the accent was clearly Middle Eastern.

  “These guys are amateurs,” Nathan said. “They say way too much on unencrypted radios.”

  They continued to listen.

  From everything they could put together from the English-speaking Middle Easterner, a shipment of new technology had just been received from the Chinese.

  The Chinese had been biding their time since the Flip, waiting to see what was going to become of America before they became more involved. For them, it was a wise move to tarry until they were certain that America was down for the count. Seeing General Muhaimin in the Oval Office was the signal they needed that America had truly been stripped of its democracy.

  The transmission may have been intermittent, at best, but it still revealed enough information that the Chinese were making their move, technologically. They were supporting the UN by sending hi-tech gadgets to the shores of America. The speaker did not say what the shipment consisted of or where the shipment was going to land, but everybody assumed it would come in from the Pacific Ocean and rest somewhere on the west coast of America.

  “It only makes sense, seeing it’s a straight shot to California from China’s east coast,” Nathan said.

  Nathan could tell Buchanan was deep in thought.

  “We don’t have the resources to get anywhere on the west coast, let alone know where to intercept the Chinese gizmos.”

  “Maybe we can just chalk this up as a heads-up. I mean, we can take extra precautions before we strike from here on out. They could have new weapons, for all we know.”

  “I’m not sure about all of that,” Buchanan said. “What I do know is, those UN vehicles are full of fuel, and I want every drop of it before we consider any further movement.”

  All the Marines worked on securing as much fuel as they could and poured it into their own vehicles.

  “What do you think about heading to Chicago?” Nathan asked Buchanan.

  “I plan on heading back to Chester and putting Matt to work on that radio to find out what he can about our new Chinese connection.”

  “Sounds good, sir, but I was thinking we needed to liberate some unfortunate Americans that have been taken prisoner by foreign invaders. I swore an oath against all enemies of America, both foreign and domestic,” Nathan said to Buchanan, reminding him that he had sworn the same oath.

  “I don’t need a salty has-been reminding me of my oath. I’m very familiar with it. I stayed in the fight, unlike you,” Buchanan barked back at Nathan.

  Everybody mounted up on their vehicles and paced themselves as if they were in a combat patrol. Their objective was made clear by Lieutenant Colonel Buchanan. “Take extra caution heading back to Chester. We may soon be facing a new enemy.”

  The convoy pulled away.

  Bu
chanan knew Nathan was right, and leaving an imprisoned America wasn’t his intention. He wanted to secure the Chicago FEMA Region Five area, but wasn’t going in unprepared. If China was now in the game, their technology would most certainly be headed to FEMA headquarters. His thought then shifted to the expediency of heading to Chicago, if for no other reason than to beat the shipment of the new Chinese gadgets to their destination.

  Buchanan looked at Nathan and said, “We’ll leave for Chicago after we secure more information on the Chinese shipment. We’re headed back to Menard; then we’ll start making preparations.”

  Nathan looked at Buchanan and nodded. He knew there was a long road ahead, and it wasn’t the thought of a seven- to eight-hour drive. Everything that had happened to him and the SIHG had led up to this point. It all seemed as if his purpose was laid out before him: his location on the Mississippi River, seeing the UN shipping containers, rescuing Jess, finding Buchanan, and then learning that he had also freed people. Nathan was feeling a sense of purpose, and sitting in a Humvee with fellow Marines made it feel all the more real.

  Nathan’s thoughts went back home to his sister, Katie. He missed her and was sad that she had passed away at the hands of the Southside Raiders. Nathan never received his sense of fulfillment from killing the leader of that group, but he at least had a little peace that their reign of terror had come to an end.

  I wonder if Denny found Heather yet, Nathan thought.

  Gorham, Illinois

  Denny had arrived in Gorham and quickly located Jess, who was working to move the bodies of the deceased to a location for a funeral.

  “Where’s Heather?” Denny asked Jess.

  “Denny…” Jess couldn’t even speak the words that were necessary for him to hear.

  Denny knew what Jess was trying to say, but he wasn’t willing to hear it.

  “Jess, where’s Heather?”

  She pointed to a home that had been destroyed by fire.

  Denny looked at it.

  There was nothing left of the roof. Of what was left of the house, only the south and west walls were partially standing. They were blackened and about four feet tall.

  Denny ran to the house.

  Everybody in town could hear Denny’s wails.

  Jess continued her work with Pastor Price, Ash, Morgan, Jack, Adam, Andy, and Blake to collect bodies. There were way too many fallen to bury. Jess was disgusted at what was the only course of action for such a large-scale funeral. She knew they had to burn the bodies. They had been collecting them for hours and working hard to identify whoever they could. Throwing them into piles seemed inhumane, but that was the very treatment she gave to the men they were able to identify as raiders. The bodies that could be identified as friends were lined up in rows. The body count was low for their population, even with the dead raiders included. Jess believed that several had fled the area in search of safety.

  Denny took Heather’s body up to the bluff and buried her in a secret location. Everybody else took some gasoline and poured it over the bodies of the fallen and stepped back about fifty yards. Pastor Price said a few words and a prayer. After that, he ignited the flames and joined the rest of them.

  Murphysboro, Illinois

  General Muhaimin had ordered a battalion of UN soldiers to secure a landing zone for him to land his helicopter on. When the general arrived, he was met by a UN colonel named Rau Amar. Amar had fought with Muhaimin in the jihadist wars. He wasn’t as ambitious as Muhaimin, but took his work very seriously and was a dedicated soldier.

  Amar was the battalion commander. He saluted Muhaimin and greeted him with the handshake of an old comrade.

  “It’s been a long time, old friend,” Amar said to his commander.

  “Indeed it has. I feel I have nobody in this world I can confide in,” Muhaimin said, leaving an open-ended comment.

  “As in the old days, you can confide in me, sir.”

  “I was hoping you would pledge your loyalty to me as the leader of the new world.”

  “Sir? The new world?” Amar said, confused.

  “As in the New World Order, Colonel Amar. I have attained the highest seat in the world and I control the world’s largest arsenal of military weapons manufacturing and surplus. I am biding my time to be of utmost certainty that I will be followed by my men, Colonel.”

  “Sir, you know your men are loyal to your commands, as am I. If it were not so, I would tell you.”

  “I knew I could always trust you, Colonel.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Colonel, there’s a bed of fleas that have been irritating my rest. It’s here, in southern Illinois.”

  “General, I have some flea and tick killer that may be of some use against your vermin.”

  Colonel Amar understood perfectly what Muhaimin was saying. Muhaimin felt comfortable knowing that he had somebody loyal and capable of exterminating the resistance in the southern Illinois area. With that small exchange of words, the general looked at the colonel one last time and bid him farewell.

  General Muhaimin stepped onto his helicopter and flew eastward. His destination was the District.

  Cade Walker was inspecting the damage left in the wake of the Marines’ assault on the UN convoy and troops. They had seized their weapons and their ammunition before they left. He attempted to start each vehicle, but they only ran long enough to burn whatever was in the fuel lines. Many of the radios had been gutted out of them, but some were left.

  Cade turned one of the radios up and sat in the vehicle, listening to the chatter. It was all in English and of Middle Eastern accent.

  What he learned was shocking. A man named General Abdul Muhaimin was the Executive Commander of the Global Army in the United States. He had safely landed in Murphysboro, Illinois, and safely evacuated back to the District.

  Cade was also shocked by how clumsy and liberal the UN radio communication was. They relayed way too much information, but he was glad they did, nonetheless. That information was good to know, but was nothing he could use.

  Cade had also learned of a new weapon being sent to the West Coast from China. A direct energy weapon capable of emitting electromagnetic blasts at specific targets. In addition to this, something called forward lasing identification electronic surveillance drones were going to be used in accordance with the “Main Core.”

  The Main Core was a program started by the former United States several years earlier and run by the NSA.

  In 2013, the government had built a multibillion dollar facility in Utah, known as the Intelligence Community Comprehensive National Cybersecurity Initiative Data Center. It was full of hi-tech data collection and digital spying equipment.

  According to old reports, it could hold a yottabyte (one septillion bytes) of data.

  The government was obsessed with collecting data on its veterans and patriots that were labeled as “potential threats.” The criteria to meet this list was both vast and simple: all veterans, outspoken patriots, gun owners, all law enforcement personnel, retired government employees, and any other group or individual that may have a view differing from that of the progressive movement. Amongst the data collected was cell phone communications, emails, Internet uploads, web browser search engines data, and all the contact information belonging to the individuals involved.

  In addition, as part of the indoctrination process for military personnel, new recruits were injected with a RFID chip the size of a grain of rice.

  When Cade heard the term Main Core, he knew he was in the equation. Inactive law enforcement and military veterans would most certainly pose the greatest threat to a paranoid and out-of-control government. They had the knowledge and training to pose the optimal threat. Cade was determined to make the most of his training. His desire was to be a terror to the United Nations invaders. Now that they had overtaken his home and put an end to his survival group, he had nothing better to do than lay down some kills. His newest acquisition, the Bushmaster .30-06, would come in handy against
the UN invaders. Cade wasn’t about to lay down anything but gunfire.

  With this new information, Cade returned to his old apartment, in the area he used to control, packed a bag, and went to his fuel-reserve garage. He grabbed two gas cans of fuel and filled an old 2020 white Chevy Impala. Once he had jumped in the driver seat and started the car, he looked one more time over his right shoulder and said good-bye to the place he knew as home. He turned back around, faced forward and started driving west on Route 149.

  “My intentions are simple. Survive. Gorham, here I come.”

  Chester, Illinois

  Buchanan had spent the last couple hours with Specialist Matt Leboe, scouring through the frequencies of the newly acquired radios.

  Specialist Leboe had intercepted the same communications that Cade Walker had intercepted from the UN vehicles in Murphy.

  “I thought the Main Core was just a conspiracy theory some schmuck made up to stir antigovernment sentiment,” Franks said.

  “I’m afraid not. We’re all in danger,” Buchanan said.

  “Sir, we have no idea what those DEWs are capable of.”

  “At least we know what a weapon looks like. Direct energy weapons will look like something dangerous,” Buchanan said as he scratched his scruff. “What I’m worried about are those FLIES. If they’re coming in from China, they’re not just simple drones. Forward lasing identification electronic surveillance drones sounds pretty techy, and I’m guessing they’re going to be synched with the Utah Data Center.”

  “Sir, if I may,” Leboe started.

  “Go ahead, you’ve already interrupted my train of thought.”

  “The operation of something that sophisticated would cost millions of dollars to build. Traditionally, drones have been controlled remotely by humans. If their plan is to blanket America with those things, it would take thousands of them…tens of thousands, to be effective. I just don’t think that’s practical unless they’re fully automated,” Leboe said.