For you poor soldiers and junior officers caught up in this mess, you’re always welcome home. Remember the bounty for every URA general officer you bring with you: one million dollars per star on their shoulders! Dead or alive.
“Turn that Goddamn thing off.”
Governor Berry reached over the front seat and cut the radio himself. Somehow, the Feds had hijacked every radio frequency, TV channel and internet service provider in Texas over the last few hours. The relentless propaganda terrified the whole state just as much as those damn Marines only 150 miles away from the capitol.
Leaning across the front seat, the governor noticed his bodyguard scribble something on a map. “Why’d you cross out the airport?”
“Too risky, sir. The Feds have flooded the skies with a shit ton of their own combat drones. One of them shot down the Speaker of the House’s Gulfstream right after takeoff. No word yet on survivors. No sir, we’ll have to stick to the highways.”
The governor ground his teeth and cast an impatient glance out the armored window of his suburban. Even with an extra police escort, his convoy could only crawl through the refugee swarm. “Yeah, us and the whole damn city of Austin.”
“I understand, sir. Shame everyone’s freaking out over a few federal troops. Still, it should only take two hours to get you to the safe house.”
The governor took off his designer glasses, he didn’t need them anyway, and massaged his eyes. “No, it ain’t the amphibious assault that’s got everyone hot and bothered. It’s the fact that the most populous city in Texas fell in just minutes, with hardly a shot fired. That’s even worse than the propaganda campaign.”
He sighed and wedged into the crowded backseat. No rest for the wicked, his aide’s phone rang right away. “Is that another robocall telling folks how much our heads are worth? A million apiece… well, at least we’ll bankrupt Washington even if they win!”
No one laughed. The aide only grimaced. That macabre bit of propaganda had already cost the governor of Oklahoma his life. At the hands of his own chief of staff, no less, assuming you could believe the East Coast news. Maybe it wasn’t such a stretch of the imagination though. Random civilians had taken potshots at their motorcade twice in just the last five miles.
“No sir. It’s General Nordstorm with the Texan Expeditionary Detachment.”
“Who’s that? What happened to General Leerenkopf?”
The governor’s military liaison officer stopped whispering into her sat phone and twisted in her seat. “General Nordstorm is acting commander now, Governor. Leerenkopf was touring an aide station a little while ago. One of the wounded happened to be watching that bounty crap on TV and wasn’t in a good mood. He managed to get a scalpel and, well, the general is now in surgery.”
“And the soldier?”
“Summary court martial, followed by a firing squad. All within 10 minutes. He won’t be collecting his money, sir.”
The governor muttered a prayer under his breath. He made a mental note to ask his bodyguard for a gun as soon as possible. “Well, how much longer until help arrives? This new general better not be trying to talk me out of recalling our boys. We don’t have time to debate.”
The aide double-checked the encrypted texts. “No argument sir. He’s sending his reserve brigade, but they won’t arrive for at least six more hours. He’s disengaging his front line units now. He estimates another day or two before the bulk of the troops are back in Texas. There’s been some, in his words, ‘pushback’ from the nearby URA command center.”
Another assistant offered him her phone. “Speaking of which, Sacramento is on the line. They don’t sound pleased.”
Berry snorted. “Like I give a shit. Salazar can wait until we’re in a safe location. What’s the ETA on those federal troops? Before or after our own reinforcements get here? I don’t know how long the local militia would survive going toe to toe with US Marines… and I’d rather not find out.”
Every one of his military, intelligence and political staff members simply shrugged. Before the governor could say another word, his personal phone vibrated. Not even President Salazar had that number. The caller was blocked, but Berry, so relieved it wasn’t his wife calling about some threat to the safe house, answered anyway.
“Good morning, Governor. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”
Governor Berry’s spine tingled and his mouth went dry, but he mustered up a little bravado somehow.
“Hello, Mr. President. It’s been a while. I’m assuming this is your concession call?”
The president chuckled. “That’s what I like about you. Even at times like this, you still have a sense of humor. That’s admirable, but I’m calling to find out if you have any commonsense left. It’s time to shut this thing off. Time for Texas and Oklahoma to hang up their spurs and come home.”
“Sir, for better or worse, I’ve made my decision. We cannot live under your dictatorship. If you really reckon calling me up and making threats will cause us to back down, you’re as stupid as you are mad.” The governor pulled the phone away to hang up, but the president’s laughter caught him by surprise.
“I agree. I’m not asking for your surrender. I’m demanding that you swap sides again. Immediately. Close the border and turn your guns on the URA rebels. Together, we can trap the entire rebel field army in a vise. This is your last chance to abandon Salazar’s sinking ship.”
“You arrogant son of a—”
“You should also tell your driver to take the Northland Drive exit ahead. There’s a nasty pileup in five miles if you continue on the expressway. Oh, never mind. The blonde-haired bodyguard next to him just pointed it out.”
Governor Berry’s mouth flapped open and closed, but no sound came out. The president yawned. “You know, to tell you the truth, I hate these damn drones. The latest ones make everything seem like a video game. There’s something fundamentally wrong about killing someone 1,300 miles away with a joystick in one hand and latte in the other. Cheapens the whole experience, don’t you think? You’re a hunter, right? You must know what I mean. This just isn’t sporting.”
The governor of Texas avoided eye contact with any of his staff. “Wha… what exactly do you want me to do?”
“To help me save your worthless life. You’re getting a second chance that you haven’t earned. Any other day of the week, and some eighteen-year-old drone operator would put a Hellfire missile up your ass without taking his eyes off his Facebook page. I’d only hear about your death as a quick miscellaneous note in the next day’s briefing. However, you lucked out today because Texas is in a unique position to help finish off the URA’s army of traitors.”
The president’s soft, but iron voice cut off the governor’s knee-jerk protesting.
“Let’s make one thing clear: this is not a negotiation. You will do as I say, or we’ll start over with your deputy governor. Then the next in line and so on. I’ll keep removing elements from the equation until I find a state leader who wants to work with us. Now, Texas and Oklahoma will officially denounce the URA government immediately. Your forces will do everything possible to block the retreat of the URA regulars to the west, while the US Army steamrolls them from the north and east. I understand that rebel aircraft are making use of your airfields. You can start by capturing them on the ground. Most importantly, you will allow unfettered access to Texan soil for US forces to encircle the rebel army. Any questions?”
“Wait, please. Do you believe I have that much influence? Don’t be naïve, sir. Even if I cooperate fully, I can’t make a speech and just have everyone hold hands and sing ‘kumbaya.’ No matter what I say, there’s no way to guarantee that my people won’t keep on fighting.”