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“I, uh… thank you sir!”

The president patted her shoulder. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m giving you the keys to the kingdom, but I demand results. I’m holding you responsible for cutting this terroristic cancer out of America. That’s a tall order that no one has yet been able to handle. Are you up to the task?”

Walker’s mind was already spinning. “Yes sir, but I need something from you.”

The president crossed his arms. “What more can I give you?”

“We can wipe out the current batch of hardcore fanatics, sure, but how do we stop them from recruiting more? As long as the extremists have a secure base, they’ll keep generating new converts for every one we kill. This won’t end until the regular people stand up and kick these people out. We need to put real pressure on the civilians as well.”

“Hmm. I see where you’re headed. General Bremer, what options do we have to turn up the heat on the rebel heartland?”

The senior commander of all US forces squirmed under the president’s calm gaze. He didn’t like where this was going. “We’re doing the best we can sir, but even with the embargo, amnesty program and $25,000 bounties for rebel leaders, we’re just not getting much of a response. What more can we do?”

The president paused as yet another jet roared overhead. “How much do those cruise missiles we lob at the URA cost?”

“Uh, just under a million each, counting procurement, launch and maintenance costs. What does that matter, sir?”

“So why are we willing to spend a million killing them ourselves, but offer only 25 grand for someone doing it for us? Up the bounty to one million for every politician or high-ranking rebel military officer. Another million for every Freedom Brigade militia fighter, regardless of rank. Oh, and no questions asked amnesty for all civilians and regular soldiers.”

The general whistled. “That should be quite an incentive. Might make a difference, but Congress will shit a brick.”

The president shook with the political reminder. “Don’t worry about the politicians. I’ll deal with them. We’re too close to the finish line to let those snakes get in the way.”

He took a long breath. “Remember, that’s just the carrot. Now comes the stick. Let’s not half ass this campaign. It’s time for an adjustment to our strategic bombing operations. Lay off all the rebel bases and military related factories. That’s small fry. They have dispersed so well that we’re not doing significant damage anyway. No, focus on what’s really important. The basic resources required to run their factories and the will of the people to work there. We need to ramp up the pressure on normal people.”

“Sir, that simply won’t work. It’s a basic law of war: strategic bombing of civilian areas only hardens the populace’s resolve. Take WW2 for example. We pulverized every major German and Jap city. Didn’t do anything other than piss people off and make them hate us more.”

The president clucked his tongue. “Ah ah. We didn’t have the technology back then to be selective, but today, a handful of bombs in the right place can deal out just as much pain, without the massive loss of life. Start with power plants. By the end of the week, I want California knocked back to the Stone Age. We’ll give the other rebel states a week to contemplate that example before we start in on them.”

“That’s a major escalation in the bombing campaign, sir. We’ve never hit civilian infrastructure before. You’ll make life intolerable for millions of innocents…”

“That’s the point, General. Then they can vote with their feet whether to live in the URA or come home.”

Walker cleared her throat. “Sir, I thought you said you weren’t going to half-ass this.”

Despite himself, the president laughed.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, if you want to step on the little people, that’ll help somewhat, but why not pick on the state governors as well? I can think of at least one in a unique position at the moment.”

The president took only a few seconds to piece it all together. “Son of a…General, do we still have a Marine Corps Expeditionary unit in Florida?”

“Yes sir, they’re standing by.”

“Good. Get their CO, our best Psychological Operations team and the Cyber Command on a conference call in an hour. I have an idea to turn our Texas problem into an asset.”

Part II

War does not determine who is right — only who is left.

— Bertrand Russell

Chapter 4

El Jardin Beach
Suburbs of Houston, Texas
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“Damn, is this your first time?” Louis Carpenter muttered and waded farther into the surf for another cast.

His cursing was nothing but ceremony. Pure contentment cleansed Carpenter’s soul as he drank in the sunrise over Trinity Bay. He sucked in the crisp, only slightly salty dawn air. Every morning for ten years, before heading to work downtown, he slipped out of the bustling Houston metropolis to this gorgeous beach for a little freedom.

“God bless Texas.” Where else could he squeeze in an hour of blissful surfcasting, without a person in sight, yet be only a ten-minute drive away from two million?

Such easy fishing, as well. Carpenter hadn’t even locked his line before it hooked something.

“Yee yee!” He reeled her in as fast as he could… but whatever he caught wasn’t trying to get away. In fact, it swam steadily towards him, without a care in the world. A shark, maybe? They were rare around these parts. What a story that would make!

“The fuck?!” Carpenter dropped his rod and levitated back to shore, clearing twenty yards of knee-deep water in a couple of strides. On the beach, he spun around in the dim light to confront the enormous green gator snout chasing him. The growl of a 500 horsepower diesel engine drowned out the lapping waves and rattled his bones.

The tracked Amphibious Assault Vehicle veered past him at the last moment. A ramp on the rear dropped and birthed 21 US Marines. They stormed off in two staggered columns with barely a glance in his direction. As the sun crested the eastern bay, Carpenter swiveled around, looking for help, but the monsters were everywhere. At least twelve more of these swimming tanks grumbled onto the beach. Most of the troops and tracks headed north to the cruise ship terminal, but one marine paused and barked a question.

“See any rebel troops around here, old man?”

Louis was one of those many Houstonites that prided themselves on maintaining a liberal oasis in the sea of, well, Texas. He grimaced at the rifle casually wavering in his direction. He hated the damn things. “Of course not. There are no soldiers here! We’re not part of your war. This is a free city.”

The marine smirked and rejoined his trotting comrades.

Carpenter bent down and picked through the remains of his crushed icebox. Several large, twin rotor helicopters thumped by, only yards above his head.

“At least it was once upon a time.”

Austin, Texas
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Ask yourself, who is your real enemy? Your fellow Americans fighting for your freedom or the URA leadership that personally ordered thousands of women and children murdered with nerve gas? Remember: full amnesty is offered to anyone who lays down their arms and swears allegiance to the Stars and Stripes. Don’t forget the one million dollar bounties for every Freedom Brigade fighter and URA politician brought in, dead or alive.