New America 02 - Resistance (7 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Regional Governor Roberto Jimenez was furious.  In his time governing the former states of California, Nevada, New Mexico, and Arizona, he had never been the victim of a major attack from The Silent Warriors.  Keeping his region secure was his primary focus.  While other regional governors concentrated on rebuilding the infrastructure or maintaining law and order, he thought only of security.  The Pulse had not affected his region, so there was no real need to focus on a broken infrastructure.  He honestly didn’t care if the people in his region robbed each other blind or murdered each other.  As long as The Silent Warriors didn’t give him a black eye in front of the other regional governors and, more importantly, the president, he was happy.

The destruction of the Golden Gate Bridge
left him with a gaping wound, visible to the entire country. He was certain to be the object of scorn, ridiculed by all the regional governors as well as President Sterling.  Roberto was not looking forward to speaking with the president and had been putting it off for as long as possible.  His first two attempts at keeping the president at bay were successful; he simply instructed his assistant to tell the president he was hard at work getting to the bottom of the disaster and would contact him soon.  The time for stalling was over; he had no choice but to report to President Sterling.

Roberto was not a young man nor was he in good health.  The seventy-
four-year-old had been confined to a wheelchair for many years as a result of his battle with multiple sclerosis.  He had little doubt as to why President Sterling had assigned him to this region.  It was the most stable and provided little daily stress.  It was the right call because hearing the news of the attack nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.  Once he calmed down, Roberto summoned the commanding officer of the San Francisco militia and shot the man right there in his office.  The corpse was hauled out, and terrified maids spent the morning cleaning the pool of blood from the threadbare carpet in front of his desk.  The grouchy bastard grunted and waved the maids from the room.  They were more than happy to oblige.  With a few quick keystrokes, the holographic display before him sprang to life.  Seconds later, the President of the Unified American Empire was glaring at him.

“Explain yourself, Mr. Jimenez.”

“Mr. President, our investigation is still ongoing.”

“Do not stall me any further, Roberto.  In the future, when I a
ttempt to contact you, do not use your assistant to dismiss me.  You forget your place, my good man. I am in charge of this empire and you serve at my pleasure.  If you ever disrespect me in such a manner again, the outcome will not be pleasant, I assure you.”

“Mr. President, I didn’t feel it necessary to waste your time until I had something solid to report.”

“You waste my time, Mr. Jimenez, when my repeated attempts to contact you go unanswered.  Tell me what you know.”

“Yes, Mr. President.  We know the
identities of the men involved. All are American citizens; their parents, however, hail from countries in The Great Empire of Iran.”

“Are their parents
American citizens?”

“Most of them, yes
, Mr. President.  They were granted American citizenship in the late 90s.  They managed to cleverly mask their heritage and passed themselves off as Spanish.”

“Have you located them?”

“Their parents?  No, Mr. President, we haven’t made it a priority.”

“Make it a
priority.  I have no doubt their parents were complicit in their training.  Once you’ve located them, execute them…” President Sterling’s lips curled in a sinister grin.  “…publicly.  Give your citizens some semblance of justice.”

“Yes, Mr. President.
I’m sending the order now.” The command was issued with a few hasty keystrokes.

“Tell me about the attack.”

“We’ve been able to trace the vehicles back to two men we believe to be the ringleaders, both veterans of the United States Army.  It would explain how they managed to get their hands on the ordinance they used.  The Golden Gate Bridge suffered catastrophic damage.  The framework remains intact, but the road spanning the bridge was ruined beyond repair. It will take years before a vehicle can cross it.”

“Roberto, I want you to be frank with me.  What measures could have been taken to prevent this?  If The Silent Warriors are bold enough to start attacking targets in our most secure region, we need to do whatever we can to prevent it from happening again.”

“That’s just the problem, Mr. President.  My region may not have been struck by The Pulse, but that doesn’t mean we’re the most secure region.  Just because we have electricity, running water, and a stable infrastructure doesn’t change the fact that our resources are being slowly stripped down to nothing.”

“Elaborate, please.”

“I fully understand that The Pulse Zone is in desperate need of every available resource we can give them: fuel, spare parts, food, water, working vehicles, medical supplies.  I have no objection to that.  We’re living in the lap of luxury compared to the East Coast.  The problem I have is that more and more of my troops are being redeployed to The Pulse Zone.  I’m working with a skeleton crew that barely manages to secure checkpoints and vital areas.  I don’t have the manpower to maintain law and order, and I damn sure don’t have enough soldiers to conduct investigations and round up suspected terrorist cells.”

“Did you not think it prudent to bring this to my attention earlier, Mr. Jimenez?”

“To be blunt, Mr. President, I have.  You instructed me to work out my problems with Regional Governor Butler.  You basically gave the man free reign to do whatever it takes to get The Pulse Zone back up and running.  Jackson is an arrogant little turd that wouldn’t budge on a damn thing.  He thinks his region is the only one that matters. He told me my region can go to shit for all he cares.”

“Jackson said that?”

“His exact words, Mr. President.  He’s cocky and dangerous, in my opinion.  I strongly believe he’s stockpiling resources and manpower for the day when The Pulse Zone is fully functional.  He wants to come out on top. I’m certain he’s planning something.”

“A bold accusation, Roberto.  What do you think he’s planning?”

“I’m not sure, but what I do know is that many of the resources I’ve sent him aren’t being utilized.  He keeps asking for more, and when I refuse his requests until he can provide documentation for what he’s done with my previous shipments, he goes behind my back and lies to you.  Your office sends me direct orders to un-ass my goods.  I don’t like it all.”

“How long has he been doing this?”

“Six months at least.”

“Again, Roberto, why not tell me?”

“With respect, Mr. President, he’s your golden boy, and I don’t want to make enemies out of either of you.”

“Well, Roberto, I will admit that I’ve made his region a priority over yours for obvious reasons
, and it seems we’ve all suffered for it.  Losing the Golden Gate Bridge is a huge blow.  My mistake was thinking The Silent Warriors wouldn’t be so bold to attack us out in the open.  The darkness and chaos of The Pulse Zone seems to be the perfect breeding ground for those cowards.  I’m going to get to the bottom of this; I can assure you that this concerns me a great deal.  I feel I may have given Jackson Butler too long a leash, and now it’s time to rein him in a bit.”

“Whatever I
can do to help, Mr. President, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Roberto.  Now I’m afraid I must change
the subject and impart some bad news.”

“I’ve
had plenty today, Mr. President. I doubt a little more will faze me.”

“I’m su
re everything you’ve been dealing with today has kept you quite preoccupied.  My earlier attempts to contact you were not just to inquire about the attack. I regret to inform you that Regional Governor Weygandt was killed this morning.”

Roberto
was speechless. Jim Weygandt had been his friend for over twenty years.  When Roberto was the director of the CIA, he relied on Jim to provide him with the resources to carry out covert ops around the globe. “How?”

“He was rear-ended by another vehicle
, and his car was sent over a bridge.  Everyone is in complete shock over this terrible tragedy.  I’ll be forever grateful for his role in building the Unified American Empire. He will be missed.”

“When’s the funeral?”

“Soon. I’ll send you the details.  I’m truly sorry for your loss, Roberto.  I know the two of you were very close.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. I
s there anything else?”

“No, Roberto, I’ll see you at the funeral.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Benjamin Black sat in his office overlooking Disney World’s Main Street USA.  He enjoyed the quiet solitude of his office because he could deliberate over the day-to- day operations of his territory.  The theme parks and resorts under his control covered forty-seven square miles with a population closing in on six thousand.  Ben controlled a paradise in the middle of the Florida wasteland.  Eighteen months prior, Hurricane Luther had destroyed much of Florida during the most powerful hurricane the world had ever seen.  The category five storm came ashore not once, but four times, each time a little stronger than the last.  With the collapse of the American government, the state of Florida found itself in the same shape it had been following Luther’s brutal punishment.  

Walt Disney World, with all h
er theme parks and resorts, was not spared by Luther.  Most of the rides were destroyed, and the majority of the buildings were uninhabitable.  Ben wasn’t worried about any of that; what drew Ben to the Magic Kingdom was the security it offered.  The theme parks had a perimeter fence around them and Ben saw the advantage.  His oasis in the wasteland attracted the hungry and the frightened.  The stability Ben offered brought fierce loyalty.  He was considered a savior; his people loved him like a father figure. He was doing a fine job running his community, and the UAE saw fit to leave him to it.  They sent a weekly patrol to his front gate to trade intelligence and inform Ben of new laws enacted by President Sterling.  These so-called laws were nothing more than President Sterling stripping away civil rights.

While the citizens of Walt Disney World deifie
d Benjamin Black, they had no idea that his primary mission in life had nothing to do with their care, but rather with the destruction of the Unified American Empire—piece by piece if necessary.  When the UAE showed up on his doorstep looking for persons of interest, he ushered them in and gave the appearance of cooperation while his trusted freedom fighters subverted the UAE’s tyrannical efforts.  Ben sent out guerrilla units to raid small UAE camps and ambush convoys.  He even managed to nurture a network of spies that fed him valuable intelligence.

Ben had spent all
morning dealing with the incident involving the slave traders.  Their bodies had been buried and their weapons and ammo found a proper home in the armory.  The eighteen-wheeler was a welcome addition to the motor pool.  The former slaves were still undergoing thorough examinations in the infirmary. None of them had serious injuries, though a few were severely malnourished and a handful had dysentery.  Ben’s most challenging problem, however, involved one of the children.  The girl’s name was Chrissy Dupree, and she had no one to care for her.  An elderly woman with dementia thought the girl was her granddaughter, but Chrissy eventually told Ben the truth about the situation.  The woman would have to live in the infirmary full time, and Ben would have to find a family willing to take care of the girl. 

Ben reached for the radio on his desk.  “Jessica, what’s your location?”

After a few seconds, the radio crackled.  “I’m at the Wilderness Lodge doing a security check.”

“Lunch?”

“Sure, I’m starving.  I’ll head over now.”

Fifteen minutes later
, Ben’s top lieutenant was in his office.  The two spread their meager brown-bag meals on a table littered with stacks of paper and a large map of Florida. The map was the focus of their meeting.

“I just got this last night. T
ake a look at it,” Ben said as he handed Jessica a thick manila envelope.  As Jessica was reading the report, Ben elaborated.  “The latest scout team found a major food distribution center south of Miami, right here.”  Ben pointed to the map.  “For the most part, it hasn’t been touched; it appears that a few scavengers have picked it over, but the bulk of it is still there.”

“When do we leave?”

“It’s not that simple,” Ben said.  “The UAE has a large base set up less than ten miles away.  If they catch us emptying out the warehouse, they’ll no doubt stop us and confiscate all of it.”

“Fuck the UAE. We
’re more powerful than they are.”  Jessica had been with Ben since the beginning.  When Hurricane Luther roared into town, Jessica found herself at Ben’s Jiffy Lube and rode out the storm in the pits beneath the garage.  Ben liked her because she was smart and charismatic enough to convince people to do just about anything she asked.  She also had the best bullshit detector Ben had ever seen.  What Ben valued most about her was that she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot someone between the eyes if she thought for one second they meant her harm.

“Slow down and think.  Yes, we are more powerful on a local level.  Regional Governor Prince cries
for help and Sterling can triple her force in under a week.  They could wipe us out.  Do I need to remind you of what we’re doing here?  Much more is at stake than a warehouse full of food.”

“You’re not seriously thinking about forgetting this place?  It could increase our food stores for months!  And don’t you dare lecture me about what we’re doing here!  You sit up here in your comfy office blowing Mickey Mouse while the rest of us are out there getting our hands dirty and seeing the most horrible things.”  Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean that.  It’s just that food is going to run out at some point
, and I have no idea what magic rabbit you’re gonna pull out of your ass when that happens.”

“I ever tell you about my great-grandfather?”

Jessica was surprised by the question. She relaxed a little and prepared herself for one of Ben’s infamous stories.  “No, don’t think you have.”

“He was a World War II vet
, drafted in 1944.  He was thirty-two or thirty-three when he went overseas.  He volunteered for the draft, but they told him he was too old.  Well, by the third year of the war, the army wasn’t as picky, so off he went.  My great-grandmother was pregnant with my grandfather when he left and when he came back eighteen months later, he met my grandfather for the first time. They went on to raise eight children.”

“Dear L
ord, eight children? Are you kidding? Nobody told him what was causing that little problem?”

Ben
winked. “Eight kids! I think they knew how to make ‘em.”

“Ben, as much as I lov
e your stories, does this one have a point?”

“Before The Pulse, could you imagine raising eight children?  Even four?”

“Hell, no. I couldn’t imagine affording one kid.”

“Exactly.
When I thought about having a kid with my ex-wife, I couldn’t stop thinking about my grandfather having seven brothers and sisters.  I asked him about it and you know what he told me?”

“The eight of them sang and danced on TV like The Jefferson Five?”

“Jackson Five, and no, they weren’t in a band.”

“They were filthy rich?”

“No, they were self-sustaining.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they had a garden the size of half a football field and grew tomatoes, green beans, carrots, potatoes, onions, and other things they could eat.  It means they had a chicken coop and a hog pen.  It means they had two or three cows for milk or to butcher for meat.  They even grew pecan trees in the yard.  My grandfather and his brothers would hunt squirrels and rabbits with slingshots and BB guns.  They took care of themselves.  They didn’t depend on a grocery store or go to a Wal-Mart like the one we took when all this bullshit started.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but given what’s at stake, are you really willing to give up that much food?  I know we’re gonna have to live off the land at some point, but if we can put it off for as long as possible, I mean it just...”

“We can discuss that another day.  For now, I want you to scout out the place.  The recon team drew up a map and gave us some basic intel.  I’m going to trust your judgment on this and let you deal with the UAE base. If you think you can pull it off, give ‘em some good old-fashioned sabotage like we’ve done before – disable their vehicles, cut off communication, create diversions. You know the drill.”

Jessica rolled her eyes.  “Uh, yeah.  I’ve done this before, thanks.”

Ben smiled.  “Have you?  I thought you came here for a vacation.”

“Shut up!  I heard about the slavers this morning.  Damn, I wish I could’ve been there!  Been a while since a group of them came to visit.”

“It was a pleasure wasting those pieces of shit.  You hear what the UAE is doing about it?”

“Something other than playing dumb while slaves rebuild The Pulse Zone?”

Ben shuffled some papers and found the one he was looking for.  “Our friends in the Unified American Empire have declared that, uh, here it is ... ‘slavery is an atrocity that must be stopped at all costs. Anyone involved in the slave trade will be summarily executed.’”

“I don’t get it.  Why do they give a shit about it now?”

“I have no idea. It doesn’t make a difference around here.  Just means the UAE will be doing what we’ve been doing about slavery all along.”

“Speaking of the UAE, isn’t Captain Brown due for his weekly visit?”

“He should be here any minute.”

***

“You want to run that by me again?”  Ben was not pleased.  He didn’t know what to make of the UAE captain’s statement. Was it a deliberate act of aggression?  Were they on to him?

“Ben, don’t worry, this has nothing to do with you or your people.  My orders are to set up a temporary base of operations here in your parking lot for the next seven days.  We’ll be sending out patrols and setting up roadblocks.  All southbound traffic will be stopped.  I have two teams to the east and west of us doing the same thing.”

“Why?  What’s going on?”

“Sorry
, Ben, that’s classified.”

“Not good enough, Captain.  At least tell me if my people are in danger.  Do we need to prepare for something?”

Captain Brown thought for a few seconds and replied.  “No, you and your people are safe. You have my word.”

“Okay
, but this better not be some lame-ass attempt to overthrow us and take our territory.”

“Ben, please.  You’re being paranoid.  The UAE has no quarrel with you.  You take good care of these people and that means we don’t have to.  Relax.  Anything else to report?”

“Another group of slavers showed up this morning.”

“You disposed of them?”

“Always do.”

“I’m sure you heard about the new directive.”

“I did.”

“Good. W
hen you get time, I’m going to need you to file a report detailing your past contact with the slavers and get information on the liberated slaves you have here.  I’m sure command will be very happy with you.”

Ben tried to act like he cared.  “You boys need anything?”

“Well, we’re set up on supplies.  The one thing we don’t have is booze.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Captain Brown shook Ben’s hand and returned to his men.

Jessica wasn’t buying it.  “You’re not seriously going to just roll over and take this bullshit, are you?  What about all that food just sitting in the warehouse?”

“Jessica, you should know me better than that.  You and your team will leave ahead of schedule; I want you on the road before dawn.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“I want that warehouse, but more than that, I want to know why the hell the UAE has half the state on lockdown.  Something’s going on, and I want to know what it is.