Sic Semper Tyrannis (45 page)

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Authors: Marcus Richardson

BOOK: Sic Semper Tyrannis
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Jan took a deep breath as he watched the Minister blow smoke towards the camera.  He could almost smell the cigarette smoke and the realization made him crave one of his own.  "They struck without warning, sir.  They were able to avoid detection from our drone…"

He continued talking for 15 breathless minute and explained the gruesome events of the horrible night he'd survived.  As Jan wrapped up the tale, explaining how orders had been confused in the heat of battle and the church and courthouse had been destroyed with complete loss of all American lives, he snapped his head ramrod straight and waited.  The next words out of the Minister’s mouth would signal his fate had been sealed.

The Minister of Defense hid his expression behind those half-lidded eyes.  Instead of a screaming fit, he merely nodded and puffed quietly on his cigarette.  As seconds ticked on into minutes, a bead of sweat rolled down Jan's neck.  He tried to remain calm and patient but worried he would scream if the politician failed to say something—
anything
—soon. 

At last the minister spoke.  "
Captain Jan, you've shown exemplary fortitude in the call of duty and acted with—as far as I can tell—the best interests of China at heart.  I applaud your quick thinking and swift, decisive actions.  At last this terrorist threat is all but destroyed.  Our mission may proceed as planned
."  The minister stabbed out his cigarette, leaned back in his chair, and intertwined his fingers across his paunch.   "
I am most impressed by you, Captain
."

Jan nodded as relief washed over him like waves at a beach.  "Thank you, Honorable Minister, sir.  I only wish to serve China to the best of my abilities."

"Yes, about that.  It seems we are short a Colonel."

Jan held himself perfectly still.  This was
not
what he had expected at all.

  The Minister cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair.  "
Yes, I think you will do nicely.
"  He snapped his fingers at someone off-screen and offered a quick smile for the camera.  Someone handed the Minister a sheaf of papers.   He sorted through them and selected one with a flourish.  He handed back the rest of the papers and smoothed the one he’d selected on his desk.  Jan swallowed as he watched the Minister chose a fountain pen from an ornate jade stand and began to write furiously. 

As he wrote, he spoke: "
For courage above and beyond the call of duty, for tactically assessing the situation that led to the salvation of the Battalion and at the same time accomplishing the primary objectives assigned by your commanding officer…I, Po Sin, duly appointed Minister of Defense of the People's Republic of China, hereby ordain and declare Captain Enlai Jan be given with immediate effect the battlefield commission of Colonel.  With all due rights, privileges, and duties, etc., etc., etc.…
"

The lieutenant standing next to Jan opened his mouth in surprise and flashed a big thumbs-up sign.  It was all Jan could do to keep from smiling as he watched in his peripheral vision while his fellow soldiers high-fived each other and celebrated in silence.

"
Signed this day, by my hand…
" muttered the Minister.  "
Po Sin
."  He finished the signature with a flourish and replaced the fountain pen back on its stand.  He held up the paper and smiled again at the camera.

"I shall have a facsimile of this delivered to you immediately.  You will keep an electronic version for your safekeeping and I will hold this in my office until you return at the conclusion of your mission.  Congratulations, Colonel Jan."

"Thank you.  Thank you, Honorable Minister, sir.  I don't know what to say…"

"
And that is why I believe I have made the correct choice
."  The Minister paused to light another cigarette. "
Your first order, Colonel Jan, shall be to expedite the removal of your forces from eastern Arizona and reestablish contact with the main body of our forces.  By now, they should be finished with Flagstaff and well on their way toward southern California.  You will make all haste to link up with them and complete the primary objective of establishing a beachhead on the coast of California.” 
He paused to exhale a small cloud of gray smoke.
  “There are to be no more delays, Colonel.  Reinforcements are already en route and we must have safe harbor for them when they land.  Am I clear?
"

"Absolutely, sir," replied Colonel Jan. 
Colonel
.  He rather liked the sound of that.  His parents would be so proud.  He couldn't wait to get off of this call, retreat into his tent, and pen a letter to his father.

"Very good, Colonel.  I look forward to reading your full report.  Please continue with the exemplary work.  All of China is proud of you.
"

 

THE DOOR TO THE border patrol SUV opened and sunlight exploded into the darkened interior Lance showed no reaction.  He sat there, staring at the back of the passenger seat.  He knew behind him in the cargo area lay the body of his best friend.  Many times they’d rode watch together, drank together, and suffered interminable watches along the Mexican border together.  All their plans for the future, the safety of the Regulators and their families…the protection of the country they both loved so dearly…

Gone. 

His whole future was gone.  Lance looked down at the crumpled, blood-stained Stetson in his lap.  It was all he had left of Rob.   He slowly turned in his seat and climbed out of the vehicle when Agent Levine politely cleared his throat.  Even the intense pain in his side had been numbed by the grief that gripped his soul.  The accusing glares of several women at the compound did not help matters.   Jerry Baersfeld stepped up and gently placed a hand on Lance's shoulder.

"We thought we’d lost you, brother."

Lance nodded because he figured that was the only reaction that would be expected given the circumstances.  Personally, Lance thought it might have been better had he been killed instead of Rob.  For one thing, he wouldn’t be faced with the insurmountable challenge set before him now.  Rob had been the undisputed leader of the Regulators for years, always with Lance as his trusted right-hand man and second in command.  Now Rob was gone.

Lance looked down at the blood-stained hat gripped in his hands.  Absently, he brushed some of the dust and soot from the bent rim.  His fingers traced a stain on the left side.  Was it Rob's blood?  Was it someone else's?  He'd never know.  It didn't matter.

"What are we gonna do now, Lance?" Jerry asked quietly. 

Agent Levine gently nudged Lance away from the vehicle and started him toward the door to the main compound.  Most of the women and one or two of the walking wounded remained where they were in the gravel clearing.  Lance, Jerry, and others wrapped in blood-stained bandages made their way inside where the cool, darkened interior did little to soothe Lance’s raw nerves.  As a group they guided Lance toward a chair in the communications room.  The chair that had been Rob's favorite.    The message was clear.  Lance was the undisputed leader now.

Lance paused and looked down at the chair.  It had been with Rob since the beginning on that drink-filled night so long ago when the two friends had decided that something must be done about the illegal immigration problem in Nogales.  It wasn't long after that the Regulators had been born.

And now the Regulators had died.

Something shifted inside Lance’s soul.  The realization that the Regulators were no longer a viable force for good caused his legs to feel week.  He let them buckle and sank into the comfort of the chair.  Sitting in Rob's chair, holding Rob's hat, he could almost feel Rob's presence in the room…almost see his disapproving frown.  Rob’s old lever-action rifle leaned against the wall, almost begging to be held.  He looked away.

No
, Lance thought. 
Not disapproving… Sad.  Yeah, that’s it.  Rob would be sad, but not angry.

Deep in his soul, Lance had always figured they would meet an end like this.  They were operating under paramilitary rules out in no man's land.  The government didn't want to enforce the law, the people did.  They had always known they were going to be left out to dry at some point.  Lance just never figured to so many of his friends would die as a result.  He never counted on Rob having to die.  Lance had always assumed that
he
would be the first to go. 

Lance had always been more willing to take chances, more rash in his decisions, more bold in his plans of action.  Rob had always been the voice of caution, reason, and logic.  When the two had combined their ideas and plans, the Regulators had proven to be an almost unstoppable force.

And now?

"Lance…I know it looks bad," said George Franks.  He had a red bandage tied around his head and his face was darkened by soot and dried blood.  His clothes reeked of smoke and he had a wicked cough, but he was on his feet and still had the wild-eyed look of an avenger.  "We ain't finished yet… I mean, what I mean is…"

"What George is trying to say…" began Jerry.

"Don't bother, boys."  Lance didn't even recognize his own voice, it was so distant.  He sighed.  "We’re finished."  Lance looked up.  The concerned faces of the surviving Regulators stared back at him through bloodshot eyes.  Every one of them had been injured in the fight.  Lance shook his head slowly.  "It's over."

"Now come on, Lance," began George.  His eyes bulged and the cords stood out in his neck as he tried to restrain himself.  "My brother died, just like Rob, just like the rest of… I will not allow—"

Lanced looked down at the hat, his finger tracing the soft felt of the brim.  "We couldn't stop them.  They rolled in here, masters of the universe, and destroyed everything."  He looked up again and met George’s angry gaze with a stare of his own that felt no emotion at all.  George blinked and took a step back from Lance.  He paled like he had seen a ghost.

"I grieve for Rob too," George said quietly.  "But if we just give up, then what the hell did they die for?"  He looked at the others in the room.  "What did any of them die for?  What have we been fighting for these past 10 years?"

"A dream…Just a dream."  Lance was so tired.  All he wanted to do was sleep, escape into the nothingness of unconsciousness and forget everything.  The pain of failure was too much.  Everything that he was had been tied up in the Regulators.  And it was gone, now.  All of it.

"That's not good enough!" hissed George.  He slammed his fist down on the desk hard enough to rattle empty coffee mugs.  "I will
not
stand by and just give up!  My
brother
died.  You hear me?  He
died!
  We've been together all our lives!  These Chinese sons of bitches—"

Lance stared at the hat, remembering the last long discussion of strategy he’d had with Rob as they drove north from Nogales.  George Franks’ shouting faded to a dull background noise.

Lance was back in Rob's truck, leading the convoy north in retreat from Nogales, from their homes.  Lance had been the one that almost gave up, then.  A lopsided smile curled the corner of his lip as he remembered Rob telling him to buck up, put his big boy pants on, and get ready for the long haul. 

Rob had been reluctant to engage the illegal immigrants—he’d only wanted to act as eyes and ears to help the Border Patrol.  Lance had been the one to push for direct contact, for apprehending them, and dragging the immigrants to the Border Patrol.  But after the arrival of the Chinese, it had been Lance who’d had the first doubts.

"You know what we’re doing this for?"  Rob had said, staring through the windshield as they rolled down the desert highway.

Lance had remained silent.

"We do this because we love this country—we want to leave it better than we found it.  And that won't happen if we let the Chinese run roughshod over us."

Lance remembered not answering.  He’d stared out the window at the blurred landscape of dry rocks and sagebrush. 

Rob had ignored his friend’s silence and continued.  "Those men who suffered at Valley Forge, who died by the hundreds and thousands at Gettysburg—they sacrificed everything so that their children would not have to sacrifice.  If you look back in our history, doesn't seem to have worked out very well.  Seems like every generation we got another war we have to fight to save our children from having to fight another war after us.  Now it's
our
turn…"

Lance remembered being embarrassed by his answer almost as soon as he said it.  "Doesn't seem like there's much left to be fighting over anymore."

He remembered Rob had almost run them off the road, so quick had flared his anger.  "Don't give me that bullshit!  As long as one American, one patriot still breathes, then
everything
is worth fighting for.  The people that came before us, they hacked this country out of the wilderness to forge this land in steel and blood.  The Founders wanted to make this country endure forever.  And so far, every generation has defended it against attacks from outside and within.  And now, just when we’re on the ropes, everybody wants to tuck tail and run."

"Ain't that what we’re doing right now?" Lance had said bitterly.

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