After the Republic
Page 23
Drew smiled. “I’ll explain that some other time.”
Joshua somehow overcame his bewilderment. “Drew, thank you. We all owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“I have to agree,” Perry concurred. “And I have to admit that I always thought you were one who might go off the reservation, especially after the last couple of council meetings. I know you were interested in serving as chair if Joshua decided not to run again, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the way things went.”
“I never really wanted to be chair anyway,” Drew said.
Joshua cocked an eyebrow. “Then why did you express interest?”
Drew chuckled. “Let me guess how things played out. After I expressed interest you talked to the other council members. They said they would not support me, and someone probably even said they would run to make sure I didn’t get the job. You didn’t want to see the camp divided, and you were uneasy about the other person who expressed interest serving as chair, so you felt like the best way to keep the camp united was to agree to serve again. Correct?”
“Umm… yes.”
Drew smirked. “My expressing interest in serving was the best way to ensure that you would agree to serve again.” He winked. “Not bad for someone who is nothing but a political hack, huh?”
***
Major Chinn unrolled a map of the port at Morehead City. “Sir, we have troops stationed in Beaufort, Fort Macon and Morehead City to prevent the terrorists from escaping via land. We are maintaining a constant lookout from the Atlantic Beach bridge. Just before nightfall we will begin amassing ground forces near the entrance to the port property. After sunset those forces will begin maneuvers which will serve as a distraction and while we launch an amphibious attack from the channel. I believe we can catch them off guard and reclaim the port with little difficulty.”
“Good plan,” Cloos said. “Keep me posted, Major.”
Colonel Brookhart threw open the conference room door. “Major General, it appears your hunch was correct. We have detected a drone headed our way.”
Cloos pursed his lips. “Shoot it down. And make sure we get this on video. After we shoot it down we need to recover the wreckage.”
“Then what?”
“Then we will call the President.”
***
Joshua and Rebecca slept until late morning, exhausted and sore from the previous day’s challenges. After they ate a brunch comprised of four large eggs and very potent coffee Joshua planted himself on the couch and turned on the television. “I’m almost afraid to watch.”
The news anchor was talking about the previous day’s events. A bizarre ending to a tragic story. As we told you yesterday, a group of AIS militants seized a church near Fontana Dam, executed at least two hostages and threatened to kill others. Now, we are receiving reports that locals found a pile of burned bodies that appear to be those of the militants. There are two freshly-dug shallow graves nearby, and the local who tipped us off said there were more spent shell casings than he could count. No one seems to know what happened to the other hostages or who is responsible for what appears to have been either a daring rescue or a retaliatory attack. Meanwhile, President Armando said this kind of ‘vigilante justice’ is uncalled for and would not be tolerated.
Joshua clenched his teeth. “Sometimes it seems like this so-called ‘president’ is not even on our side. He should be thanking Ray for picking up his slack.”
The anchor continued. We are receiving reports of federal Homeland Security police sparring with local law enforcement and National Guard personnel in a number of states, including North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia and Alabama.
“Josh, I’m not sure the America we knew and loved exists anymore,” Rebecca said.
Joshua shook his head. “Sadly, I think we are living in the days after the republic.”
***
Benjamin rushed into the already-full conference room where President Armando convened his inner circle. The president was already seated, along with Abdar, Adilah, Anthony and ten others. “I apologize for being late, Mr. President.”
“No need to apologize, Leibowitz,” Armando said. “This was a hastily called meeting.”
Major General Cloos appeared on the videoconference screen, flanked by two other men in uniform.
“Major General, you called this meeting,” Abdar said. “What do you want to discuss?”
“Two things,” Cloos said. “First, we have recaptured the Port of Morehead City and the terrorists there have been eliminated. That’s the good news.” Cloos puffed on a cigar and blew smoke in the direction of the camera. “Now the bad news. Our base was attacked yesterday.”
“You invited this attack by engaging the terrorists without our consent,” Abdar said. “You should have known they would respond.”
“I said we were attacked,” Cloos said. “I did not say we were attacked by AIS.”
“Then what are you saying?” Anthony asked.
Cloos leaned toward the camera and took another puff on his cigar. “We were attacked by a United States military drone, which we shot down. Mr. President, I have to ask, was this attack sanctioned by your administration?”
Benjamin clenched his teeth but did not speak. Armando sat speechless, looking like a deer in the headlights.
“Mr. President?” Cloos persisted.
“This is an outlandish accusation!” Abdar stood up and shook his fist at the camera. “How dare you?”
Cloos turned to a tall officer with light brown hair and wire-rim glasses. “Colonel Brookhart, roll the footage.”
Benjamin cocked an eyebrow as the monitor showed a zoomed-in clip of a drone bearing an American flag. The video zoomed out as a surface-to-air missile destroyed the drone, then zoomed in on a recovered fragment that included a portion of the flag.
“This was clearly an American drone,” Cloos said. “So the question remains, did your administration sanction this attack, or is someone else controlling our drone fleet? Mr. President?”
President Armando finally spoke up. “No such attack was authorized by me.”
“What about by anyone else in your inner circle?” Cloos pressed the issue.
Abdar again stood up and shook his fist at the camera. “This line of questioning is insulting to the President! How dare--”
“Son, I didn’t attain the rank of Major General by being an idiot. Either someone in this administration sanctioned this attack, or you have lost control of our drone fleet. I want to know which.”
“Who do you think you are?” Abdar yelled.
“Son, be careful what you ask for or I might come up there and show you who I am.” Cloos motioned for his team to kill the videoconference. The screen went blank.
***
The top of Bob’s grave was covered in neatly arranged stones and a wooden cross had been placed at the head.
Jim delivered a eulogy and several camp residents spoke. Kane was the last to speak. He approached the grave and fell down on both knees, his broken left arm in a sturdy splint. He brushed his right hand across the grave.
“You were the only true friend I have ever had,” he said in a choked voice. “And you were the closest thing to a father I ever had. I don’t know how I will make it without you.”
Kane broke down into tears and Jack put his hand on his shoulder. Joshua surveyed the crowd; there was only one dry set of eyes present: Drew’s. He stood stone-faced, staring at Bob’s grave.
***
Welcome news from eastern North Carolina today.
Joshua and Rebecca perked up as the anchor spoke.
American military forces have defeated a group of AIS terrorists and reclaimed control of the Port of Morehead City.
President Armando appeared on screen. We are thankful to the brave members of our Armed Forces who executed our plan to win this great victory. This is a critical step toward restoring order in our great nation.
“Maybe Armando is finally starting to wake u
p and do something right,” Joshua said.
“Maybe,” Rebecca said. “But don’t forget a piece of advice I’ve often heard you give others.”
“What is that?”
“Don’t believe everything you see on the news.”
***
Major General Cloos felt his face flush red with anger as he watched the newscast. He slammed his fist on his desk. “Those bastards claimed credit for a battle our soldiers fought.”
Colonel Brookhart nodded. “A battle they ordered us not to fight.”
Cloos spat loudly into a Styrofoam cup. “Well, I guess it’s clear what kind of people we’re dealing with.”
***
A stern warning for residents in Western North Carolina today. Joshua fixated on the television.
The newscast cut away to a pre-recorded video of an AIS terrorist standing in front of a flowing mountain stream. To the American who killed our brethren at your infidel house of worship. We will find you. We will kill you. You cannot escape. And we will kill everyone who matters to you. Revenge will be ours.
***
The following Tuesday camp residents gathered for the weekly council meeting and a special camp meeting.
Joshua began the camp meeting by rehashing the events of the previous week. “We all owe a debt of gratitude to Drew. The relationships he developed saved my life, Jack’s life, Perry’s life, Rebecca’s life and Kane’s life. Drew, thank you.” A round of applause rang up from the crowd.
“It goes without saying that we will miss Bob,” Joshua solemnly continued. “Over the past year he saved many of our lives, and we also owe him a debt of gratitude. May he rest in peace. Please join me in a moment of silence in Bob’s honor.”
Everyone closed their eyes. After the moment of silence Joshua continued. “As you all know, Bob was a member of our council and functioned as head of security. His death creates a huge void, one that we must now decide how to best fill. While no one can replace Bob, we have to determine how we can best move forward without him. That begins by deciding who will fill his seat on the council and act as head of security. With that said, nominations are now open for one seat on our council.”
Kane raised his hand. “Sir, I would like to be considered. I served and studied under Command Sergeant Major Kendall, and he taught me virtually everything he knew. I believe this is what he would want.”
Joshua nodded. “Kane Martin has nominated himself. Do we have further nominations?”
Thomas raised his hand. “Man, I’d like to nominate Jack McGee. I saw him in action when he rescued me from those kidnappers last year, and he can do this job. He seems like a natural born leader.”
“We have nominations for Kane Martin and Jack McGee. Are there further nominations?”
Drew made a motion to close nominations. The motion passed. Rebecca passed out ballots and Joshua appointed Jim, Ruth and Chuck to serve as tellers. After a few minutes Ruth handed Joshua a sheet of paper.
“Folks, the votes have been counted,” Joshua announced. “Congratulations to our new council member, Jack McGee. Jack will also serve as our head of security. Kane, thank you for your willingness to serve. You have made valuable contributions to this camp, and I wish we had room for both of you on the council.”
Kane stood at attention and saluted in Jack’s direction. “Congratulations, sir!” Jack extended his hand.
Joshua spoke up again. “Before we adjourn, there is one more thing I would like for you to consider. I have long feared that this conflict would make its way to us here. Unfortunately, that happened this week. Now, my fear is that we have not seen the last of it. We must remain vigilant, and we must face the stark reality that we have multiple enemies. The first is obvious. AIS. Based upon the news reports I’ve seen, the second enemy appears to be the remnant of our own U.S. government, particularly in the form of these Homeland Security police. Beyond those, we also have to consider the fact that the world outside of this camp is increasingly dominated by lawlessness, which means anyone could be our enemy. We must stay alert and stick together.”
***
Caroline squeezed Perry’s hand as they walked up the trail, where Jack was seated under an awning in front of his camper trailer. She smelled the aroma of gun oil – a once-foreign odor that she viewed with increasing acceptance. Jack’s AR-15 was partially disassembled on a small fold-out table under the awning along with a gun cleaning kit. His 30:06 leaned against the camper beside a 50 caliber sniper rifle, crossbow and compound bow.
“That’s quite a collection of weapons, Jack. Do you have a minute?” Perry ducked to avoid hitting his head as he made his way under the awning.
“One for every occasion. Sure, what’s up?”
Perry squeezed Caroline’s hand. “Coming face-to-face with AIS made me realize how unprepared I am for a fight. I’m not bad with a rifle or pistol, but have no real training in hand-to-hand combat.” He cleared his throat. “Can you help us?”
“I’ll do my best.” Jack leaned his reassembled AR-15 against the trailer and began disassembling his 30:06. “Is there anything specific you want to learn?”
“Everything you can teach us.” Caroline stroked the scars on her left wrist. Her eyes narrowed. “They killed my babies. I want to be ready if I ever have my chance.”
“I can help with that,” Jack said. “I do feel like I should let Joshua know what we’re up to.”
“That’s fine,” Caroline said. “He’s welcome to join us.”
***
Several days later Joshua, Rebecca and Reagan were returning from a hike up the trail. The weather was unseasonably warm and there was not a cloud in the clear blue sky. This was a much-needed opportunity for Joshua to spend quality time alone with those he valued the most – time he desperately craved after the gut-wrenching events of the past few weeks. As always Reagan led the way, trotting about ten feet ahead. Joshua and Rebecca walked hand-in-hand, winding down several curves to an area where the trail passed through a fairly large open clearing – the same clearing where Reagan had become agitated several weeks earlier.
History repeated itself. As they entered the open space Reagan began growling, his tail pointing straight up. He fixated on some mysterious point on the mountainside.
“Again?” Joshua drew his pistol.
Rebecca looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean ‘again’?” she whispered. “Has this happened before?”
“He did the same thing when I came up here to think and clear my head before deciding to serve as chair again. In this very same spot.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“We don’t have time to debate this now, Becca.”
“Josh, I don’t like being kept in the dark. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to frighten you. Let’s talk about this later.”
Rebecca huffed. Reagan continued growling and scanning the horizon for several minutes, then abruptly turned and came to Joshua. Joshua studied the mountainside through his telescope, and then handed it to Rebecca. Neither of them saw anything.
After a few minutes Joshua motioned for Rebecca to follow him. They silently moved forward, keeping low to avoid detection by whatever had spooked Reagan. Reagan stayed with them, still agitated but no longer on high alert. Once they made it through the clearing to a more thickly wooded area Joshua found a vantage point from which they could watch the trail.
“I don’t know what Reagan sees up there, but both times this has happened I had the strange feeling that I was being watched,” he whispered to Rebecca. “Something isn’t right.”
They stayed put for some time, but again did not see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. After sufficient time had passed they resumed their trip back to the camp.
As they completed their hike Joshua pondered the events of the past few weeks and wondered what the future might hold. The great republic known as the United States of America was all but gone. The conflict that had brought the once-great nati
on to its knees had reached this remote part of the North Carolina mountains, and a key member of the camp had been lost in the process. These events had tested the camp’s unity and Joshua was unsure how the residents would hold together moving forward. Now he had the uneasy feeling that someone or something was watching him on the trail, possibly watching the entire camp. Things were peaceful for the moment, but Joshua’s gut told him that the peace would be short-lived. He feared that life after the republic would bring a series of unfamiliar and unpredictable challenges and that the conflict that had engulfed America would soon hit close to home once again…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Frank L. Williams grew up in Northwest, a rural farming community in Brunswick County, twenty minutes from the historic Port City of Wilmington in southeastern North Carolina. A prolific reader at an early age, he read many of the books in The Hardy Boys mystery series before completing third grade. Frank’s family has a love of America and a history of civic leadership that spans generations. He has followed in that tradition, having been actively involved in the political process for more than two decades. After graduating from North Brunswick High School in 1988, Frank earned a degree from North Carolina State University’s Department of Communication in 1993. In August of 2001 he formed Pioneer Strategies, a public relations agency he still owns and operates. In his free time he enjoys writing, reading, action movies, politics, fishing, the beach and rooting for the N.C. State Wolfpack. For more information, please visit www.FrankWilliams.biz.
Table of Contents
PART I
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10