by Ira Tabankin
“Good evening Mr. President, how are you?”
“President Brownie, I’m reaching out to you formally to protest your people crossing our common border. They not only cross the border without a visitor’s visa, but they are creating issues for the small border towns on our side of the border.”
“President Brownstone, I’m glad you brought this up, the LSA is filing a formal protest against the USA for the very poor treatment you gave to our people who simply wished to state their views against your refusal to sign the United Nations’ treaty.”
“President Brownie, they can protest all they like on your side of the border. If your people continue to cross without the proper documents, they will be forced back across the border. I’m calling to warn you before some of your people are harmed. We won’t stand by while your people swarm across the border and loot the border towns; they leave behind filth and the destruction of public lands. We will send the LSA an invoice to compensate the towns for the damage caused by your people.”
“President Brownstone, the entire country of the LSA can’t be held responsible for the actions of a small percent of our total population. We refuse to accept your claims.”
“Tell you what, how about we hold your protesters in jail or a chain linked fenced off area until their fines are paid?”
“Are you ransoming my citizens? Have you sunk so low as to be a pirate government? I’m ashamed of you. I’m ashamed I once called myself an American.”
“That’s good for you; your people are causing hundreds of millions of dollars of damage; we aren’t paying for your people’s damage. If the government of the LSA won’t cover their damage costs, I’ll send Special Forces into the LSA to the protester's homes to collect whatever assets they have to be sold to cover the costs of their damage.”
“You wouldn’t dare. Sending those violence-loving gorillas into the LSA is an invasion of the LSA.”
“So what? What are you going to do about it? Are you going to protest us? Hold another march? Put up some signs along the border? Please don’t make me laugh. I’ve asked you to control your people if you can’t, we’ll lock the border between us.”
“You can’t lock down the border; our original agreement states neither side will lock the border.”
“Pay up or stop your people from damaging my people or I will order the border closed. What are you going to do about it? Put up a hissy fit? You rely on hired help as your military, by the way, how’s that working out for you? If you continue to provide aid to the United Nations who are attacking us, the United States will consider you an enemy of the United States. Are you sure you want to become our enemy? As our enemy, we will take down your power grid; we’ll destroy your water treatment plants; we’ll push you back 200 years, and unlike World War 2, we won’t rebuild you. We’ll leave you on your own, is this what you want for the LSA?”
“You wouldn’t do this to us; we’re the same, we’re all brothers and sisters. Your own people won’t allow you to strike us.”
“President Brownie, I don’t need their agreement, and yes, I will give the orders. If you don’t believe me, if you think I’m bluffing, try it and see what happens. How will your people handle modern life without power or fresh water? You’re already low on fuel and food, want to add additional discomfort for your people?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Kick out the United Nations troops. Withdraw your offer of support to them.”
“I’m not sure I can do that. Isn’t there something else we can work out?”
“No. I’ll give you 24 hours to decide.”
The call terminates as President hangs up while President Brownie is in mid-word.
“John, Alvin, I want the borders with our friends the LSA closed, no one who isn’t a USA citizen gains entrance,”
Alvin asks, “Mr. President, we can do this. However, we’ll be pulling troops from the defense of our bases.”
“Alvin, thanks for bringing this up. John, it’s time to take the gloves off, I want to hit the United Nations’ troops before they cross the border. You have my permission to use the ’dazzler’ on any United Nations’ flights headed to the LSA, issue a warning; then you can start using the laser. Any United Nations’ flights over our territory can be brought down without warning. Any of their ships that break the 200 miles line, can be sunk.”
“Yes sir. What about the other weapons?”
“You have permission to use anything else, with the exception of nukes. I want them off our soil now.”
“Yes sir.”
“John, one more point. I think it’s time we push our brothers, the LSA over the edge. They have to learn that supporting the Russians is the same as attacking us. I’ve had enough of them blaming us for everything. If they’re going to blame us, then we might as well do something to be blamed for. Minimize collateral damage.”
Smiling, the Secretary of Defense responds, “Yes sir, with pleasure sir.”
“John, I don’t want them crushed, I just want them to realize they have to pick better friends and stop attacking us through their friends. I thought ‘Moonbat’ would be much better than Obsma or Reid, I hope was right.”
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Two United Nations’ flights are on their filed flight plan for Sharpton airport in New York. The lead pilot is chatting with his co-pilot. “I can’t wait for tonight; I emailed Sally, I told her we’re arriving today, she said she and her friend Rose are on to meet us for dinner at 8:00 tonight.”
“I remember Rose, man, push this crate, can’t you speed it up?”
“Lousy headwinds, we should be about thirty minute late, plenty of time to make dinner with the girls. We’re going to have a hot time tonight, man, I hope this war lasts forever…Damn, that hurts! I can’t see!”
“Me either! What happened?”
“Flash of light, can’t see, how are we going to land?”
“Leave it on auto pilot, yea, my eyes feel like someone burned them.”
The plane turned 90 degrees onto its right wing, “What the hell are you doing, we’re going to stall! Level the plane.”
“I can’t, I can’t see the instruments.”
The plane noses over, flying into the ocean at 500 MPH.
“Commander, mark a kill symbol on the side of the laser turret. Can you get the one behind him?”
“Yes sir! I’m going for ace today.”
“Go for it, you may be the first Navy ace since Vietnam.”
The second plane follows the first into the ocean.
“Captain, I love this thing. Invisible beam blinds the pilots and destroys their core electronics.”
“You got your second kill; you’ve got three to go.”
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The United Nations’ force fighting its way to Washington, DC, has been slowed by groups of militias. The military took up positions surrounding Washington, DC, itself. Tanks, anti-tank missiles, anti-air missiles, heavy machine guns and mortars are dug in surrounding the entire city. The number of strategic bases and key cities spread the military too thin to be everywhere at the same time. Local militias that passed background checks were drafted into the forces defending the USA. This left some of the interstate highways to be guarded by militias. Which is how I ended up being just a couple of miles south of the Maryland/Virginia border. The United Nations’ forces broke through three ambushes the militia setup. IEDs, mines and even an exploding gasoline tanker truck slowed the invaders down, but, didn’t stop them. We took 40% causalities. I’m one of them. I open my eyes seeing beds on each side of me, people in surgical garb running back and forth, people yelling in the beds. I have no idea what happened or where I am. When I try to move, I realize I have two IVs in my arms, and there’s a shooting pain that runs up my left leg and back. I have a bandage on my head; I can’t sit up enough to look down at my legs.
Someone leans over me; she runs something over my forehead, she holds my left wrist, she writes down the information on a chart; she s
hines a light into my eyes, “Can you hear me?”
“Yes, where am I?”
“At a temporary military hospital outside of Reston. How do you feel?”
“Like I got run over by one of the tanks.”
“Pretty normal. Are you in much pain?”
“Yes, about 8 on a 1-10 scale.”
“There’s a red button by your left hand, do you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“That releases more pain medication, if you can’t take the pain, just press the button,”
“What happened to me?”
“You got shot, pretty bad wound, plus the infection got infected. You lost a lot of blood. Your pacemaker didn’t like the bullet wound. We’re watching you very closely.”
“Why aren’t I in a regular hospital?”
“Not enough beds for all of the wounded. The militias have been bled pretty badly.”
“What happened to the United Nations’ force we were sent to stop?”
“After you set off the fuel tanker, they stopped; your brothers in arms attacked the stopped line of tanks, APCs and trucks with Molotov Cocktails, and heavy rifle fire. They lost six tanks in this last ambush, plus over 500 men. They turned around and returned to Maryland.”
“We stopped them?”
A new voice answered, “Yes soldier, you stopped them.”
I shift my eyes up to see a colonel bending down to talk to me. “Colonel?”
“Soldier, you bled for the victory. However you stopped them. You turned them around. We thought the militias might slow them down, we never thought you’d fight like you did. Your militia put up a defense any regular Army unit would be proud of. In fact, I’m pinning a purple heart and a bronze star to your pillow. I understand the idea to set the interstate on fire and blow the fuel tanker was yours.”
“Yes it was.”
“Damn fine soldiering. You may be a little old for being a soldier, but I’d be proud to have you fight next to me any day.”
“Thank you sir. Sir, my wife?”
“She’s outside; I asked her to allow me to see you first. She’s been here since they brought you in. It’s been a long five days for her.”
“Five days?! I’ve been out for five days?”
“Yes you have; the infection was very bad, I understand you were touch and go for a while. We can’t have our militia hero die on us, now can we?”
“I’m no hero, what about the others?”
“You lost 50% of your group, and your group fought on. The survivors are back on the line with some guardsmen. They’re setting up a stronger defense of the border. Brad, I’m going to go now, but before I do, I want you to know the President is going to stop by tomorrow to thank all of you.”
“The President, here?”
“Yes, you guys stopped a large force from moving through Virginia into Washington, you might have saved the capital. The last time the capital was invaded was the war of 1812. I’m going to send in your wife now. I’ll see you again; I’d like to hear the details of your defense plan.”
“Thank you sir.”
“You don’t have to call me sir.”
“If I’m a soldier, then yes I do.”
“Get some rest. Here comes your wife.”
The Colonel leaves the room, Kathy runs over to my bed, “Honey, you’re awake?”
“Yea, guess I didn’t get home before you did. I seem to have gotten lost along the way.”
“No shit, didn’t we discuss you not playing solider?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t playing, we had a real mission, we had to stop them from hitting DC.”
“Brad, you’ve been out for five days, when they found you, you’d lost a lot of blood, you had been shot, you had a serious infection, your pacemaker was going crazy, your heart was stopping and starting, they tell me you died a couple of times before your pacemaker kicked back on. They didn’t know if you were going to be able to keep your leg or not. The doctor told me this morning you should be waking sometime today. Ron’s been here twice a day. He told me it was your idea that stopped the United Nations’ troops. Brad, I was so worried. You almost got killed. Promise me, no more playing soldier.”
“Sure honey, I don’t think they want a cripple anyways.”
“Brad, for Christ sakes, you’re almost 65, war is a young man’s game.”
“Honey, it’s everyone’s game. We have to win, or freedom will die, it’ll die and most likely never be reborn again.”
Chapter 28
“Propaganda Minister Booken, how’s New Jersey doing? I have an assignment for you. I’d like you to spread a story about how the USA is planning on using nuclear weapons against the United Nations.”
“Any particular country?”
“All of them that joined the attack on them.”
“Mr. President, is this real or rumor?”
“Yes, it could be real. Don’t let the truth bother you.”
“When do you want the story out?”
“ASAP, start it in the inner cities, make them afraid, we can use them against Brownstone. Stir the cities up, we’ll send them to the border; we’ll overwhelm their border patrol again.”
“President Brownie, won’t Brownstone kill them?”
“Maybe, do you care? If he kills them or keeps them, it lowers our costs that is something we need right now. We’re out of money, no matter how much we increase taxes our revenue decreases. A new-underground economy has sprung up. People are paying for goods and services under the table. The more they do, the less we take in.”
“What about increasing the sin taxes?”
“We’ve already done that; we’ve placed 125% tax on cigarettes and liquor, we’ve legalized marijuana and taxed it. We’ve legalized prostitution and taxed it, hey, we’ve legalized drugs and taxed them. We’ve taxed everything. And still our tax revenues are decreasing. We can’t continue to spend as we are unless we find a new source of revenue, or we cut the number of hands held out, or mouths to feed.”
“Got it, I’ll make some calls and get the story out.”
“We’re going to organize a new march across the border of Maryland and Virginia, we’re going to march to Washington, DC, to make them ‘Ban The Bomb’.”
“Mr. President, does it really matter if the USA bans the bomb or not?”
“Yes it does, if they attack anyone with a nuke and that country counterattacks, the fallout may drift over us. If there’s a nuclear war, we’re going to find us in the middle of any exchange. The LSA is going to lose. I want to stir up the United Nations as much as possible so they stop fooling around with the United States. I want them to put all of their resources into the war. I worry that Puten is going to lose patience and start dropping nukes on America. If he does, we’re going to catch the short end of the pole. The pole will be shoved up our rear ends. Puten will force us to get involved, or he’ll say he missed a target or two, and he’s sorry if we lost a city or three. We have to get the USA cut down to size before time runs out.”
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Twelve Special Forces teams slip over the border into the LSA. They move at night and hide during the day. Their targets are the fresh water reservoirs that supply Boston, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Seattle with drinking water. They reach their destinations unseen on their fifth day inside the LSA. The remove a handful of plastic test tubes from their backpack. Pouring the clear liquid into the water one asks their lead, “How much of this is supposed to be enough or too much?’
“Good question, I have no idea, use all we have to make sure. After all, it’s not going to kill them, just make them wish they were dead. And don’t get any in your mouth
The groups make their way back to the border. They have valid ID from both the LSA and USA. They have no problems leaving the LSA by showing their ID cards with a USA gold $100.00 bill folded behind the ID, when they get to the customs booth of the USA, they simply show their citizen USA cards and walk right through the booth. A mile past the c
ustoms booth, they walk into a diner, order coffee and apple pie. A man exits the kitchen to sit with them, “Ready for your ride home?”
“Right after the coffee and pie.”
“Bird is about a mile away, think you’ll be able to make it after the pie?”
“Look, pie is hard to find in the LSA, as is really good coffee, it’s getting harder and harder to get anything that the government deems isn’t good for you. And let me tell you, everything I like isn’t deemed good for me by the LSA government.”
“Did you have a successful mission?”
“Have no idea what you’re talking about”
Three hours later the teams are back on base reporting to their colonel. “Sir, mission successful.”
“How much of the liquid did you use?”
“Sir, we didn’t remember the dosage, so each reservoir got a full does of four tubes.”
The colonel leans back in his chair laughing. “Did anyone ever tell you what you were putting in their water supply?”
“No sir, we learned a long time ago not to ask questions.”
“Watch the LSA news programs this time tomorrow, now go get some rest, we have another mission for you in 48 hours.”
In 48 hours, the news from the LSA is filled with reports of a strange stomach virus that causes almost continuous stomach cramps and diarrhea. Hundreds of thousands can’t get off their toilets. There’s quickly a shortage of toilet paper in the LSA. Trucks with additional supplies have had their fuel tanks contaminated causing their engines to seize forcing the trucks to stop where they are. City after city is hit by the mysterious stomach flu, doctors have no clue where it came from or how to treat it. The GDP of the LSA drops as more than 50% of the population stay home from work. On the third day of the flu, more than 75% of the workers in the LSA call in sick shutting down almost every service and company that operates in the LSA.
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“President Brownie, Doctor Ruth Grayson is here for her 10:00 appointment.”
“Very good, please show her in.”
