Indivisible (Overlooked by Liberty) (28 page)

        
His comment startled her.  Chaos saw she had been crying; even Helen hadn't realized it.  She lowered her binoculars and paced toward the tree line to be alone.  Chaos looked closely at William Winifred, William with fishing pole in hand standing on a rock in the water.  He shook his head,
I'm so stupid
!

      
William Winifred spotted the Rousell brothers standing side by side in the gully where the stream fed into the pond.  The three boys stared at one another from fifty meters away.  William looked at the Rousell brothers, then turned to see if the security person on the lawn was watching.  Thad offered a conservative wave.  William glanced up at the guard to make sure he wasn't looking and returned the greeting.

      
Chaos found Helen seated on a rock just beyond the pines.  "I'm so sorry."  He put the coffee down and held her, stroked her hair.  "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here."  No response.  He started back, "Or maybe you want privacy."

      
"No."  She patted the rock beside her.  Chaos walked back over and joined her.  "You know, I don't know if I'll ever get over this," uttered Helen.  "After viewing the imaging of the massacre, I realize the horror Barry must have gone through."

      
"Well--"

      
"Even if both of us make it through this thing alive, you won't want anything to do with me," she continued.  "Some days I can't stand anyone.  God!  I can't remember the last time I slept through the night.  I have nightmares.  I swear, I'll never get over this."

      
Chaos considered launching into an oration about oppressive government but thought better of it.  Her struggle was not political.  He put his arms around her, squeezing tightly.  The embrace wrapped Helen in a cocoon where she wished she could hide.  "You're the best thing that's happened to me, Helen.  I'm a patient man; I can wait until you're ready.  What about the
good
memories of Barry?"  He looked in the direction of Balsams Resort.  "I bet Barry was a good fisherman."

      
"Fisherman?  I'm thankful he wasn't, I'd have had to clean them.  He spent a lot of time trying at that pond at Balsams though.  Barry and those Rousell boys were all over the place--Tater too."  She reached down for her coffee.  "You know, I miss that dog.  I've been shot at and chased; Tater was there when I needed her."  She took a sip.  "Barry loved that mutt.  I guess I did too.  Another part of him died with her."

      
Secretary of Human Concerns Darwin Combs succeeded in arranging a meeting between the regional Covenants and Federal negotiators.  The peace talks took place in the Balsams Resort.  Army Regulars occupied Colebrook and the Resort for security.

      
As planned, President Winifred seized the opportunity for a photo op.  In a campaign year, with gossip of his role in the Dixville Massacre spread throughout the country via CB radio, Clifford had some damage control to do.  Captain Thomas and Secretary of Defense Kyle Paz had been made the scapegoats, but the illegal CB broadcasts proclaimed the President himself had known all along.  As tradition dictates, Clifford huddled his family around him in a desperate attempt to stay in power.  As William fished at the pond in front of Balsams Resort, the President swung a few rounds of golf for the media.  He was surrounded by his wife Patricia, Chief of Staff Lucas Bennett, and dressed in a spandex one-piece with bulging genitals, the latest urban rock sensation, Ravenhelm.

      
Digital recorders from major networks whirled about the President, asking questions, adding cursory comments against the rebels.  Nancy Atherton was, as always, among them.

      
Meanwhile, the gasoline tanker, driven by Captain Thomas turned into the lane toward Balsams Resort.  He stopped in front of a truck loaded with concrete ingots parked crossways to block the road; it served as an impenetrable gate.  A man waited in the cab of the truck, his brown drivers' arm dangled out the window.  He waited for a signal from the two security people on the ground to let the tanker pass.

      
One of them approached Captain Thomas, "Sir, we need your clearance code."  Thomas didn't stir; the Captain mindlessly gazed forward.  "Sir."  The guards looked to one another.  One of them climbed to the window to check the Captain, and found him dead.  As Captain Thomas fell forward, the guard noticed the seat cushion smeared with blood.

      
Captain Thomas served a purpose for a radical faction of the Colebrook Covenant, as a corpse to drive the remote controlled truck.  Despite Thomas' desire to rectify what he had done at Dixville, some Colebrook residents looked for more immediate revenge.

      
The guard looked back and saw that the truck loaded with ingots had begun to move off the road.  Simultaneous bullets penetrated the skulls of the security personnel and the truck driver.  Snipers fired from atop Sanguinary Mountain, northeast of the resort.  Obeying an infrared signal, the tanker truck started forward again, picked up speed, and raced headlong toward the resort.  The tanker plunged deep into the Balsams structure and exploded.  Filled with gas and nineteen pressurized oxygen tanks, the tanker laid waste to the entire area.  Intense blue flames erupted; the fireball destroyed everything in its wake.  Remnants of building jettisoned away from the main structure were quickly eaten by fire.  Burning flesh filled the air with death, as vapors hovered above flaming bodies before drifting off.  Secretary of Human Concerns Darwin Combs, Reverend Thoreau, and the peace delegation were cremated by an oxidized ball so intense that vehicles blown away from the site landed in a melted heap.  Burning tires added volcanic-like soot to the holocaust.

      
President Winifred saw it,
and
felt it from the golf course.  The shock wave knocked everyone off balance.  In disbelief, the President and First Lady watched the blast mushroom rise to the heavens.  Security personnel shuffled them into a nearby tandem copter and took them out of range from any snipers.  From miles above, Mr. and Mrs. Winifred looked down on the burning site in disbelief.  Nothing recognizable could be seen.  Their son could not have survived.

       
"Jesus, God!  Who did that?"  Helen had run back to the edge of Table Rock and viewed the burn pit that was once Balsams Resort.  "Did you know anything about this?" she asked Chaos.

      
"Helen, what do you think I am?"  It surprised Chaos she would ask such a thing.

      
Helen peered down at the resort to locate the boy at the pond.  "I don't see him!  Oh God, I think they killed him!"  The surrounding trees were aflame, the rock where little William stood was vacant.  "Do you think he's in the water?"

      
She raced down the slope toward the pond.  Chaos stopped her.  "Now, stop.  Even if you found him in the water, it would be too late. It would take too long to get down there."

      
Helen was in tears, "This is all wrong.  Children aren't supposed to die."

      
After hearing the blast, other rebels had come from the encampment on the mountain and looked out from Table Rock.  There were no voices of glee.  The hope of compromise was gone.

Colebrook, New Hampshire (May 28)

      
Junco Willis came to Colebrook by boat past Nova Scotia, down the St. Lawrence, through Quebec eventually to Sanguinary Mountain overlooking the wasteland that was once Balsams Resort.  "What the media said was true.  The President's son had to have been killed in the blast," Junco uttered in amazement.  To this point, no one knew who was responsible for the bombing.  Everyone in the North Country suspected Tumult.  The Federal Government blamed all rebel forces and covenants in the area.

      
Der Dutchman and seven fully geared attack packs stood behind Junco.  Four of those attack packs were African-Americans from Boston.  Der Dutchman had worked closely with the newly formed Boston Covenant.  The attack packs had devastated the gangs.  New packs were formed made up of Bostonians.  The Ghost Packs, as they were called, developed the reputation of invincibility; that attracted street kids.  Gang members switched sides to be a part of the mystique.  If Ghost Packs moved into an area, gangs simply moved out.  Any resistance by a gang was dealt with by crushing force, attack packs aggressively shooting to the source and taking no prisoners.  The benevolent hand of the court system wasn't there to pander them and return the gangs to the streets.  Junco Willis, an African-American, found himself at the forefront of his new cause as a leader. 

      
Ironically, Butch had had something to do with Junco's conversion.  The Wizard had given Butch's Scouting book to Junco and told him about Butch and Thad--and about the Dixville Massacre.  The word spread.  Inner city youths found direction in the values promoted in the Scouting manual.  Through the efforts of Junco Willis, the moral codes within that Scouting manual became a beacon.  Young black men without direction, found purpose.  After extensive training by Dutch, the Boston packs were as good as any unit in the Vermont and New Hampshire Covenants. 

      
Since receiving the E-mail message from Butch and Thad, the Wizard had been working on the motor-gun to improve its penetration and range.  He asked a chemical engineer he knew at MIT to help out.  The Wizard came up with a ceramic ball for the gun made of nitrogen-oxide, some lead for weight, and carborundum--all bound together with clay and baked in an oven to harden.  The range of the guns hadn't improved because of the lighter ball, but the balls burned and exploded on impact.  Not impressive shot one at a time, but a stream of balls would blast a hole through anything.  Junco came to Dixville to deliver the goods, and to fulfill an oath for the Wizard.

Dixville Mountain, New Hampshire (August 4)

      
Rain pummeled the region.  Lightning snapped the earth like a jagged whip; the crack shook the ground beneath them.  The deluge would befuddle the Armdroids guarding the Army compound.  Thick cloud cover shielded rebels from the satellite's eye.  The weather was perfect for their mission.

      
Chaos was not about to wait for the Feds to make the first move.  Seven attack pack leaders huddled around him in a small, underground bunker.  "Their command center is just this side of Colebrook." He pointed at the topographical map on his laptop computer.  Helen listened from the edge of the room.  "We'll penetrate the sensors at this location," he pointed.  "Wolf's packs will take out the Armdroid sentry, here.  Once inside the security ring, designated packs will cut the optic cords that allow communication among the other Armdroids.  Then all hell will break loose--at least for them.  We need to remember to leave the way we came.  Except for the Armdroid we take out, the others will still be active as stand-alones."

      
Understandably, there had been no attempt by the White House to renew negotiations.  Killing the President's son had provoked congressional sympathy, turning representatives against the rebels.  It licensed Winifred to do as he pleased.  Within three and a half weeks, an overwhelming force of Army Regulars had amassed.  Satellites, redirected to new coordinates, would seek out the rebel forces through their heat signatures, and could direct bombs and artillery rounds to referenced locations when the attack began.

      
Helen had insisted on going with the detachment that night.  She cared for Chaos and decided to go with him whether he wanted her there or not.  And they could use her medical training; the rebels idea of a medic was someone with a roll of gauze and duct tape.

      
She approached Chaos after the tactical briefing.  Other rebels moved in and out of the bunker.  Chaos was aware of them, "Once the battle starts, this thing takes on a life of its own.  You don't have to go with us."

      
An anxious sigh followed, "I'm going.  I'm obviously needed."  She forced a smile, "And you macho guys will have to get over the girl-boy thing."  It had been nearly a year since the Dixville Massacre.  Helen had stayed out of the fray as Butch and Thad built their Ghost Pack, as the Vermont and New Hampshire Covenants gained prominence, as the rebel attack packs absorbed disenfranchised Americans from across the nation to become a combat-ready army.  She had awoken.  The enemy hadn't been Captain Thomas or the Army: It was the White House.  They had treated the North Country like the enemy.  And they had found one.

      
Chaos continued, "We're not like the Feds: Their soldiers follow orders mindlessly--just like their machines do.  Our packs are self-sufficient.  They know the area; they'll keep fighting until the other guy stops shooting back--even after my demise.  I must say, The Wizard's improved shot for the motor-gun helps my confidence.  When their Armdroids are downed, their soldiers will panic."

      
Chaos could see she was uncomfortable.  He put an arm around her shoulder.  "We're all scared.  It doesn't matter how much action you see, that feeling never goes away.  You'll do all right.  If this new motor-gun shot takes out the Armdroids effectively, you might find yourself patching up more of them than us."