by Bobby Akart
Do I notify the White House? What about my fellow Texans who are standing directly in the line of fire?
As was true of everyone within the deep state, self-interests played a large part in the exchange of information.
Yancey turned his thoughts back to the analysts.
“We have reports of an attack in Roswell, New Mexico, and St. Louis, Missouri,” continued one of the analysts. “A military patrol in Memphis, Tennessee, came upon a group of Korean men near the Mississippi River bridge crossing into Arkansas. Their activities were described as reconnaissance.”
Yancey became engaged in the meeting. “Does the president’s martial law declaration deal with Korean nationals? Are there any provisions for taking them into custody, you know, for their own protection?”
“It’s my understanding that a protection order is being considered,” replied the military liaison. “The president is worried that comparisons will be drawn to the Japanese internment camps during World War II.”
“Can we begin taking them into custody for curfew violations or some other trumped-up charge?” asked Yancey.
“Sir, the problem is that the prisons, for humanitarian reasons, are releasing their populations,” offered one of the CIA personnel. “The prison system doesn’t have the manpower nor the food and medical supplies to warehouse millions of incarcerated Americans. I doubt internment is an option.”
The three analysts began to discuss the various scenarios among themselves when Yancey’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and his eyes squinted as he read the display.
1S1K
One shot, one kill, the sniper’s motto.
Yancey shuddered as he closed his eyes. He recalled the words of General George S. Patton—Do your duty as you see it and damn the consequences.
Those words allowed him little comfort.
Chapter 4
January 16
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Sook had never been in love. Her entire life had been devoted to helping her family survive in a world she thought she’d never escape.
The Kim regime, officially known as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, was anything but democratic. The Kim dynasty spent over half a century coalescing the North Korean people socially, ideologically, and with loyalty to their Dear Leaders. Everyone was required to adopt the same thoughts, whether it be their military-first approach to government or the Kim’s juche philosophy.
Juche meant, literally, self-reliance, a concept that was embraced by precious few Americans. However, within the context of North Korean life, juche ideology emphasized the DPRK’s political, economic and military self-reliance. While the philosophy encouraged their citizens to be self-reliant and the masters of their own destiny, in practice, it meant after the government took its cut.
In North Korea, the citizens worked at the pleasure of the state, and for so long as one obeyed the orders of the state and its hard-line military minions, you were allowed to live your life. Life, however, was always enjoyed under a shroud of fear and amongst those who’d quickly report your improprieties to the government in order to gain favor or an elevation in societal status.
For that reason, Sook had never sought to engage with men in a romantic way. She was distrustful for one, and as part of a Christian family in a nation that persecuted people for their religious beliefs that ran contrary to juche, she’d feared for her family’s safety.
The day she and her father had saved Duncan from the frigid waters near their fishing village, Sook had immediately recognized his rugged, handsome features. Floating unconscious and struggling to breathe, as he was close to death from hypothermia, Duncan had struck Sook as a man who was a fighter. A man who’d do anything to survive. A man very much like herself.
Her father had always jokingly referred to his daughter as being a man in a woman’s body. She worked hard. She shunned any boy’s advances. Plus, she routinely practiced martial arts in order to protect herself from the predatory North Korean soldiers.
On that fateful day when they’d discovered Duncan, her mind had raced as she assessed the risks of taking this foreign stranger aboard their fishing skiff and then bringing him to their home. She could have dropped him at the feet of the local military officer and gained favor, as so many others would’ve done. That, however, would have resulted in a more gruesome death for Duncan.
Her father had agreed that God had put them in the position to save Duncan, and that was what they would do. Using her nursing skills and supplies she’d obtained while working with the United Nations humanitarian workers, she’d nursed Duncan back to health and, in the process, fell in love too.
Sook was unfamiliar with the glamorization of love stories written in novels or portrayed in movies. The love that developed between her and Duncan was real and could’ve easily been made into a romance movie had circumstances been different.
She’d saved him from certain death in that river. He’d helped her escape the tyrannical rule of Kim Jong-un and protected her from the military as they made their way to freedom. They’d both helped one another as they fought their way across the Southwest to reunite with Duncan’s family.
Moreover, despite the fact she was a North Korean, a country who’d just initiated a war against her beloved’s home, she had been welcomed with open arms by everyone at the Armstrong Ranch. No judgment. No hesitation. Pure, unconditional love.
All of these things ran through Sook’s mind as she raced back to her first love for one more hug and kiss. She respected his decision to protect his homeland. She would never stand in the way of his core beliefs. Sook would miss him while he was away, and long for his return. But she would never openly show her fear of losing him to the horrors of war.
“One more kiss for good luck!” she shouted as she rushed back to his side.
Sook crashed into Duncan, and he wrapped his arms around her. It comforted her, and for a brief moment, the fear of losing him was gone.
They spun around in a circle, holding one another, kissing again, until suddenly, Duncan broke his embrace and fell to both knees in front of her.
Sook’s eyes darted around, unsure what was happening. Espy had arrived with the Humvee, and he abruptly opened his door and stood on the side rails, his face awash with uncertainty.
She looked down into Duncan’s eyes as he loosened his grip on her waist. He stared back and then welled up in tears. He reached into his jacket, grabbed at his chest, and then he smiled.
“Sook, I had big plans for this morning. I wanted to take you on a quiet, romantic ride around the ranch. I had a spot picked out where we could sit on a rock together and look out across West Texas as the sun rose into the sky.”
Duncan revealed a ring box that had been tattered and smudged with age. He opened it and revealed the contents to Sook. It was his grandmother’s diamond engagement ring.
She covered her mouth with both hands as tears streamed down her face. Her mind raced, but her mouth did not.
“Sook, I’ve learned there is only one true happiness in this life, and that is to love and be loved. Being loved by you has given me a strength and courage I’ve never known. I have an inner peace when I’m with you, and I ache when we’re apart.”
Duncan became more emotional, laughed, and wiped the tears from his face. Sook was touched by the outpouring of emotions, something she’d never seen from the men in her life. She removed her hands from her mouth and touched Duncan’s cheeks. They were warm, and his tears were still flowing.
“Sook, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Sook started laughing nervously and once again covered her mouth. As a child, she’d dreamt of a moment like this. It was a vision that had faded from her consciousness as she grew older. Now, kneeling before her was the only love she’d ever known, and he was professing his undying love for her.
Yet she couldn’t speak. The words woul
dn’t come out of her mouth. All she could do was cry and laugh and nod her head up and down so fast that the tears flew off her face and joined Duncan’s as they flowed down his cheeks.
Duncan quickly stood, kissed Sook all over her face, and looked into her eyes. “Does that mean yes? Will you marry me?”
The nodding increased in speed, and she finally was able to shout to all who could hear—yes! “Yes, I love you, and I will marry you!”
Chapter 5
January 16
The Mansion
Austin, Texas
“Madam President, we need to get you into the bunker or, at the very least, the command center,” insisted Adjutant General Kregg Deur.
“Kregg, I appreciate your concern, but it’s just a border breach,” said President Marion Burnett. “It’s not like they’re dropping bombs on our heads. I’ve got work to do, and I can’t run into hiding every time there’s some semblance of an uprising.”
“I understand, but can you at least come to the command center for the day until we know what we’re dealing with here?” asked Deur.
“Nope. That’s settled. Please, tell me what the heck happened out there.”
The president found her way to the head of the conference table and settled into the dark saddle brown, tufted leather chair. As Deur and his aides prepared to start the briefing, President Burnett impatiently swiveled back and forth in her chair.
She’d spent most of her days dealing with the food crisis spreading across Texas. Despite all of their efforts to obtain food resources from abroad, it still wasn’t enough. Unrest was growing in the major cities, especially Houston and San Antonio. She’d ordered the military into those two cities to quell the riots and protect businesses from looting.
This had an adverse effect on those directly impacted by the military’s presence. Several occurrences of violent clashes between her troops and the citizens had been reported to her. She’d admonished her military department not to get heavy-handed, but they’d quickly pointed out that citizens were using guns to attack the Texas National Guard personnel.
President Burnett had always stood against the use of military forces on American soil and vowed her principles wouldn’t be compromised once Texas declared its independence. As she waited on Deur, she thought back to those early days when she’d breathed a sigh of relief that the Texas power grid had been spared from both the direct effects of the EMP and the cascading failure of the Western and Eastern Interconnection synchronous power grids. Texas had dodged a bullet and used the occasion to declare their independence from the United States.
She didn’t second-guess her decision to make the bold move of secession. She did, however, underestimate the ancillary impact that the loss of power around North America would have on Texas. Food was only one aspect of her daily challenges. The hundreds of thousands of starving and dying refugees beyond their borders was another.
“Okay, Madam President, here is our up-to-the-minute status report,” began Deur. “Early this morning, just before sunrise, an assault upon our checkpoint near Hobbs, New Mexico, was initiated by armed gunmen. The first of our soldiers to die were manning the gate. Emboldened by the attack, refugees apparently broke the chain-link gates and forced their way through.”
“How many of our people were present?” she asked.
“We don’t have an exact number yet, but typically there are three units of four plus officers and civilians used to process the paperwork of displaced Texans.”
“Go ahead,” instructed the president.
“The following is based on assumption and speculation,” said Deur.
The president sat up in her chair and raised her hand, indicating Deur to stop. “What do you mean?”
“Madam President, we’ve based our reports on civilian refugees who were taken into custody following the breach. Ma’am, all of our troops were killed.”
President Burnett stood up and slammed both hands on the conference table. “What? How could all of them be taken out? By armed refugees? This stinks to high heaven, Kregg. It sounds like Wichita Falls all over again.”
“We can’t rule out the possibility of covert involvement from Washington, Madam President. It’s also being reported that military-style vehicles were used in the breach. Not armored, however. Namely, M35 personnel carriers, from the descriptions I’ve received in the reports.”
The president fell back into her chair. She reached for her coffee, thought better of it, and pushed it toward her chief of staff. “What else?”
Deur continued with the bad news. “The roving patrols that were added in recent weeks reacted as quickly as possible to the breach. As they departed their posts, multiple instances of incursions by the refugees took place all along our West Texas border.”
“Do you have an estimate of how many refugees entered Texas?” she asked, dejected.
“By our rough calculations, as many as twenty thousand crossed into the country,” replied Deur. He stepped back a couple of feet, apparently expecting an outburst from the president.
President Burnett bottled up her anger and continued to ask questions. “Have you stopped the bleeding?”
“Come again?” asked Deur.
She raised her voice out of frustration. “Have you secured the dang border?”
“They are doing that now, Madam President. The fences are being repaired. Troops have been dispatched from Fort Bliss and—”
“Why not from Lubbock?” asked the president.
“Camp Lubbock is designed to be a reactionary force, and the unit there is expected to defend the population areas, you know, towns and cities. The military units focus on border security.”
President Burnett leaned back in her chair once again and looked around the room. She suddenly realized her vice president, Montgomery Gregg, wasn’t present. During the chaotic morning, she’d forgotten he’d taken a few days away to spend with his wife at his ranch outside San Angelo.
“I really need my top military advisor,” said President Burnett, who unintentionally disparaged Deur, her longtime associate and adjutant general. “Has Monty been notified? Have you called him back to Austin?”
Chapter 6
January 16
The Gregg Ranch
West of San Angelo, Texas
“When did this happen?” asked Vice President Montgomery Gregg. He switched the satellite telephone into his left hand. He reached for his wife, who’d reluctantly turned around when he’d requested her to wait. He managed a slight smile but received a scowl in return. As he listened to his aide describe the situation at the West Texas border, he studied his wife’s closed-off body language. It saddened him to see Candice this way. He hoped he could find a way to bring her around for the sake of their marriage.
He tucked the phone between his chin and shoulder, then reached out to pull her closer. At first, she hesitated, then finally succumbed to his wishes. Then his chest exploded in pain. In those milliseconds as his brain comprehended what had happened, Gregg knew he was about to die.
Gregg’s body flew backwards, away from his wife, and he landed flat on his back. His brain couldn’t comprehend the agony his body suffered from the trauma as the bullet tore into him and exploded through his back.
“Monty! Monty!” screamed his distraught wife as she crawled through the dirt to his side.
His brain’s blood supply began to diminish as he struggled to remain coherent. When the human body nears death, it tends to die from the top down as the brain fails. During those precious seconds, the human mind loses its sense of self and begins to wander.
As the wave of blood-starved brain cells spreads out, memories, ability to speak, all feeling disappears. One wonders why so much emphasis is placed upon a dying person’s last words. It’s because the brain has determined those last utterances to be the most important of a person’s life.
Sometimes the dying reassured a loved one by promising them life will be okay without them. Other times, they confirm thei
r love. Some request a promise be kept. In that moment, Gregg muttered the words that plagued his mind the most at that moment.
Gregg’s eyes closed, and he whispered, “Tell Armstrong. It was Yancey.”
*****
His wife’s eyes grew wide in horror. Despite being married to a military man, she’d been shielded from the throes of war. Her husband rarely discussed the dark side of the death caused by military conflict, and she would immediately change the channel on the television when gory scenes were delivered via the news without warning.
She was frantic, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She shook her husband and clawed at his clothing in an attempt to revive him, but he was unresponsive. His eyes, devoid of life, stared into the morning sky.
His final words. What were his final words?
The most painful goodbyes were the ones that were never said, never explained, or never heard. Monty had spoken to her, but she couldn’t comprehend his words.
“What?” asked Mrs. Gregg. Then she began screaming frantically for help. “Somebody help us! Please help!”
Their ranch hands and two members of Gregg’s security detail finally arrived to comfort her. Mrs. Gregg’s nightgown was covered in her husband’s blood, as her housecoat had fallen open, abandoning any sense of modesty. She clutched for her husband’s shoulders, but the men pulled her away.
Several seconds later, Gregg’s prone body, bleeding out on the ground, was surrounded by men in suits, speaking into radios and frantically searching the surrounding hillsides for the source of the single gunshot.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gregg,” said one of the agents, who’d checked Gregg’s pulse. “He’s dead, ma’am. We need to get you inside.”
Distraught, she wailed and lost her strength. With the assistance of a female member of the security team, she managed to make her way back into the house. The walls were closing in on her, and she suddenly felt trapped and alone.
