by Kurt Winans
Swiveling his command chair in the direction of the announcement, Admiral Rutherford replied, “Thank you ensign, bring it here please.”
“Sir. Yes sir.”
After reaching for the dispatch and then visually scanning the content, the admiral checked his wristwatch again to see that is was now zero eight hundred hours. After a quick glance and accompanying nod in the direction of Captain Wilkes, Admiral Rutherford said loudly to the entire bridge crew, “The time is now upon us, and we have received our go code from the President via the situation room. I say again, the go code for the mission has been transmitted and received.”
As the commanding officer of the carrier itself, Captain Wilkes then moved forward a stride from his nearby position and asked, “Your orders admiral?”
“Order the entire task force to raise the new colors immediately by directive from the President, and inform them that we are commencing with flight and attack operations.”
For the first time since 1959 when Alaska and Hawaii had become the most recent additions to the united collective of states, a need arose to design and unveil an updated version of the American flag for the nation’s citizens and the remainder of the world. Now in spite of his deepest personal desire to avoid the circumstances which would facilitate such an act, President Jordan Harwell had been pushed into a corner that neither he nor most of the world’s population could have expected during his administration. With no alternative option to explore at the present time, he had been forced to put forth a Presidential decree calling for Congress to approve a replacement for the outdated fifty-star symbol of the United States without undue delay.
Throughout the quickly moved upon process there was never the slightest discussion to alter the flags seven stripes of red and six stripes of white, as those horizontal runners would continue to represent the nations original thirteen colonies. However the arrangement of white stars within the blue upper left hand corner of the emblem would need to be altered. Although several design options for the new flag were brought forth, only a handful of the concepts were seriously considered. Two such possibilities were to simply remove one of the stars within the current field, as doing so would leave the required forty-nine in place. Those variations would position a vacant space in either the bottom right corner of the field, or as near to the center as possible. Ultimately those designs were dismissed from consideration, as each option left a glaring hole in the star field which would amplify a perception to the world that one state had weakened the country by breaking off from the others. A separate design called for a simple flip of how the horizontal rows of stars would be presented. Instead of alternating five rows of six with four rows of five to attain a total of fifty, there would be five rows of five and four rows of six to reach forty-nine. Such a design would present a cleaner look without a glaring hole in the pattern, and to most casual observers, the flag would appear to be nearly the same as the outdated version. Of the three designs that would surely be the best option, but there was a fourth design which presented an intriguing possibility to explore. If the blue portion of the flag were to be stretched vertically to impede upon the fourth white stripe from the top, then a completely different star pattern could be employed. By incorporating the area of an eighth horizontal stripe the blue field would become nearly square in shape, and as a result, seven rows of seven stars could be placed upon it to present a strong symmetrical look. The design containing prime numbered rows of stars was visually appealing to the eye, while also showing the world that the United States was capable of embracing change to her structure with some level of dignity. Upon realizing that there was a need to expedite the process, a call for an online vote of Congress during their holiday recess was proposed by the President. Then by way of a vast majority, the members approved both the design proposal and budget allocation for mass production of the flag with haste.
Upon hearing the news, President Harwell then further decreed that at the moment which coincided with the birth of 2027 in the central time zone the new flag would be raised and flown over every government building or facility throughout the forty-nine states without exception. Such a move would also include every United States embassy, the active military bases, or vessels of any kind throughout the remainder of the globe, and a posture of duty toward their parent nation would compel those responsible for the transition to act with expedience. Following the mandated decree, Admiral Rutherford had ordered that all ships and submarines of the task force under his immediate command would raise the new flag at the precisely stated moment.
It was further expected and understood that all public buildings and schools within the United States or her territories would follow suit in short order. However with their respective closures based on the New Year’s Day holiday having fallen on a Friday, there was a belief and general forgiveness that the majority of those locations would not implement the change until perhaps as late as Monday January fourth. Then from a civilian standpoint what members of the general population did with flags at their respective dwellings remained, as had always been the case, their own personal business. In spite of that sometimes forgotten basic personal right to freedom of expression, Jordan Harwell hoped that those who still believed in the future of the country and its solidarity would also fly the new flag at their earliest convenience.
The notable exception to those actions of the night and coming days would be that of any representative facility of the United States located within the former state of Texas. In their case, which included everything from internal revenue offices to veteran’s administration buildings or field offices of initialed federal agencies such as the DEA or FBI, the old flag would be lowered without replacement. Because a large portion of those aforementioned complexes which did not adhere to a twenty-four hour duty clock had been vacated at the close of business on Thursday December thirty-first, their respective flag poles stood without a symbol for several hours before the time of transition. That was in stark opposition to those such as the border patrol stations who had remained on post until the final moment of 2026, as each location to fall within that category had lowered their flag only when their duty on Texas soil was no longer called for.
As to active military bases within Texas, their flags remained defiantly in place. The United States government hoped that they would be allowed to maintain those operational bases in similar fashion to others located on foreign soil throughout the globe, but that course of action, which could be considered by some to be a fantasy, had yet to be determined. Texas of course maintained a different viewpoint to that position, and now that they had officially become an independent republic with the hour at hand, the matter would become a major discussion topic with regard to various treaties between the neighboring countries.
Upon the roof of the White House in Washington D.C., four members of the United States Marine Corps had fulfilled the requirements of their duty at precisely one o’clock in the morning under the watchful eye of their commanding officer. After one pair of enlisted personnel handled the movements of lowering the old flag and unclipping it from the lanyard for precise and respectful folding, the second pair then stepped in and quickly raised the new symbol of America over the residence of the nation’s elected leader. Those actions of changing out a tattered old glory upon the rooftop with a pristine replacement had been done on countless occasions throughout the years to be sure, but on this particular occasion, the ceremony was also recorded on film for history’s sake.
As a marine detachment of several men and women moved through the entirety of the White House to swap out the old flags for new, the President had most justifiably become preoccupied with thoughts of a different magnitude. He was faced with the proceedings which were taking place along the former border between the United States and Mexico, as well as the verbal report from his Director of Homeland Security which had brought them to bear. Additionally, President Harwell had put forth an order to initiate a naval and aerial bombardment from the eastern Me
diterranean upon Syria. He was fully aware that perhaps several hours would pass before any reports as to the level of success or failure of that large scale operation would reach him, but that didn’t relieve him of the concern which he felt over how the events would unfold.
Based on the imposed weight of all that swirled about within his mind, the President had completely forgotten about his decree and that a detail of marines were due to arrive in his office within minutes. Then as if on cue, a young marine officer entered the oval without being officially announced, snapped to attention, and said, “Excuse me Mr. President, but I have a detail here to change out your personal flag sir.”
Startled by the young man who had abruptly come through the door, and while also momentarily lacking complete comprehension of the intended message, President Harwell turned toward the uniformed officer and looked him over. Then he sternly replied, “Lieutenant, what are you doing in the oval office without an escorted announcement by a member of my staff? We are very busy and you shouldn’t interrupt us.”
“Yes sir Mr. President, and please pardon me for the interruption. But per your direct orders sir, my men and I are here to change out your flag.”
“Change out my flag?”
“Yes sir.”
The room fell silent as President Harwell seemed to be confused while contemplating not only the action, but why it should be carried out at such an inopportune moment. Then when clarity of his decree suddenly returned to him, the President stood and faced the flag located behind his desk. All others within the room followed his lead, and only then did he reply with, “Certainly lieutenant. Please proceed with your duty, and provide the old flag with all the necessary respect that is accorded.
With the hour just beyond two in the morning, and with a firm understanding that additional reports from either Syria or Texas would most probably be hours away, President Harwell took the opportunity to look over his upcoming schedule of the next few days with Mrs. Dawson. Upon reviewing that schedule, which was usually defined to nearly individual moments, they realized that due to the New Year’s Day holiday it would be considerably lighter than usual. That would create a rare opportunity to which the President could not ignore, but convincing his ever loyal assistant to follow his suggested course of action would not be easy.
Mrs. Dawson, in her most typical fashion, had been a stabilizing force during the most turbulent of late nights within the oval office, but the time had come for her to go home and get some rest. As the President had feared prior to broaching the subject with her, the conversation over whether or not to pursue that action had lasted longer than it should have. He felt that his title had ultimately been the deciding factor, but in reality it was not. Upon realizing that her boss would not retire for the night until after she had done so, Mrs. Dawson begrudgingly agreed to go home as had been requested. What she didn’t expect from the concession was what she heard next, as the President said, “Please take the entirety of the day off. You have been working very hard, and I don’t want to see you back at your desk for at least twenty-four hours.”
Understanding that her boss had endured a more stressful holiday week than that of any year in her memory, he was also in desperate need of rest. Therefore she spun around to face him and replied, “Very well Mr. President. I won’t return until early Saturday morning, but you must promise me that you will also get some sleep tonight before tackling the many challenges of tomorrow.”
Smiling in response to her level of caring thought and the gumption with which she presented it, Jordan Harwell asked, “Is that an order Mrs. Dawson?”
Knowing that she had established such latitude many years before, and had not abused the well-earned privilege, she replied, “Yes sir that is an order, and please understand that I will check with my sources to see that you have done so! You need to get some sleep, or you will risk becoming completely ineffective for the nation in the coming days.”
The nod of recognition from the President which followed could have been interpreted as that of either acceptance or obedience, but debating the matter would ultimately prove to be a waste of energy. Not more than fifteen minutes later Jordan Harwell had heeded the wisdom of his longtime assistant, and shuffled off to the residence for what would surely be only a few hours of restless sleep.
At that same moment, Samuel Tillman was still enjoying the celebration of the newly reborn Republic of Texas at his mansion with many friends and family members. Number seven had just stepped forward to join the conversation that number five was having with Samuel, and then reported to both of them that the border crossings from Mexico into the most western tip of Texas near El Paso had been secured without incident. Like each of the many other established border crossings, they had been occupied by Texas National Guard officers and troops when the United States Customs and Border Patrol agents lowered their flags and abandoned their posts at midnight local time.
After waiting patiently for that conversation to conclude, Victoria Tillman moved to her husband’s side for a celebratory embrace. Then she said, “Now that the entirety of Texas has legally separated from the United States, I believe that we should have another drink!”
“That’s an excellent suggestion my dear. Then we should attempt to locate the grandchildren, as it will soon be time for Jennifer, Blake, and Savanah to go to bed.”
With over two hundred guests scattered in and around the mansion, Victoria correctly noted that locating each of their three youngest grandchildren could be rather challenging. Then she added, “Even after we find them, convincing them to try and sleep through all of this excitement will be easier said than done.”
“I see your point. But since Blake is always trying to emulate the discipline of Jason and Beau, he will fall in line with given instructions. And as for Savanah, she told me yesterday that she wants to watch the rose parade early in the morning. It should be easy to convince her to go to sleep.”
“Alright Samuel, that takes care of two, but what about Jennifer?”
“Well that’s a different matter. Jennifer is a headstrong fifteen year old girl, and I’m wise enough to know that I have no chance in convincing her of anything!”
“Then are you saying that it’s up to me?”
“Not necessarily you, but I’m going to keep my distance.”
With a noticeable laugh, Victoria replied, “Then you sir, are a coward.”
“Perhaps that’s true, but I prefer the term wise.”
“Samuel you have helped to devise and carry out a plan to attack the United States in retribution for, among many other things, the death of our youngest son. Within the success of that masterful plan, you have made our former country believe that Syria was responsible for the hostile actions. Additionally, that plan enabled Texas to become an independent republic once again in the process.”
While smiling through attempted humility, which had been somewhat weakened by the consumption of multiple beverages, Samuel replied; “Now that’s definitely true!”
“Then why are you a coward when it comes to communicating with or disciplining our granddaughters?”
“Only one of them. Savanah and I have a great relationship, and you know that. We talk about everything.”
“Yes you do, and I’m sure that Jennifer notices that as well. So why don’t you interact with her more often? Are you afraid of her?”
“Hell yes I’m afraid of her. It’s like I said a moment ago Vic, she’s a headstrong fifteen year old girl.”
“As a soon to be sixteen year old, she’s actually more like a young woman.”
“That’s my point exactly!”
“Well Samuel, that’s just ridiculous. You do realize that Savanah will also eventually become a fifteen or sixteen year old young woman.”
“My dear Victoria, this is a festive gathering of celebration that shouldn’t be spoiled by such talk. There is absolutely no need to dampen my spirits by inferring that our precious little Savanah will someday become a completely unpred
ictable and unreasonable person. Besides, we both know that the likelihood of her reaching that age is…”
Before he could utter another word, Victoria raised a defiant index finger close up over his mouth with a lightning quick move. Then her demeanor drastically changed in an instant, and with a steely glare that would cut straight through and disarm nearly any foe she looked directly into Samuel’s eyes. Calmly leaning closer into him so as not to be heard by any other, she whispered, “Don’t you say it Samuel, and let me make this point perfectly clear. Don’t you dare ever say what you were going to say about Savanah in my presence. Do you understand me?”
Samuel Tillman was a man who had spent the entirety of his life not being intimidated by anyone or anything, but his wife Victoria was a different matter. If there had ever been a more perfect counterpart to his strength of will and determination than Victoria, he had certainly not met the person. Noticing that beyond her defiant index finger there were tears welling up in her beautiful green eyes, he stated softly, “Of course my dear. I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again.”
With a slight quivering tone, Victoria calmly replied, “Good, and thank you.”
The phone on his nightstand rang loudly at seven o’clock sharp, and woke the President from a restless sleep. A somewhat familiar voice on the other end of the line said, “Good morning Mr. President. As per your orders sir, this is your wakeup call.”
Everything within him wished that he could sleep for several more hours, but Jordan Harwell knew that he had already pushed the envelope by getting more than four hours in bed. While attempting to shake away the fog layer within his head, the President replied with nothing more than a courteous, “Thank you.”
Twenty minutes later President Harwell emerged from the residence after a quick hot shower and shave. Now somewhat more alert, he braved the chilly morning air by walking along the outside porch area to the oval office in comfortable jeans and his favorite University of Washington sweatshirt. That action effectively cleared away the last wisps of lingering fog between his ears, and as Jordan Harwell entered the oval, his Chief of Staff Christopher Westin turned toward him and said, “Good morning Mr. President. Did you sleep well?”
