“Perhaps, but your influence would sway most of them. At least the most disciplined units. Either way, you’re helping to end the slaughter. To make this easier for people to swallow, simply declare neutrality, but enforce it aggressively. We can put off the touchy subject of surrender and formal reunification until a later date. Check your email. My staff has just sent you details and even a prepared speech. You’re welcome.”
Governor Berry craned his head against the window, looking for any sign of a bluff. He didn’t spot a drone.
Instead, he found three drones circling above. All carrying missiles.
“And what happens to me personally when this is all over with?”
The president’s voice held no trace of mercy.
“Whatever we decide, it’s better than you deserve.”
The URA convoy of one hundred HEMTT supply trucks chugging along Interstate 30 couldn’t stop on a dime. The lead transporter’s driver had already been ripped out of her truck before the last vehicle even touched its brakes. The driver seemed more annoyed than afraid of the Texan soldiers aiming weapons at her.
“The fuck? What are you guys doing?”
Every tenth truck in the two-mile long convoy carried an extra passenger, armed with a Stinger surface-to-air missile, to guard against the unfriendly skies. The convoy even had a local Texan escort of several Humvees, bristling with machine guns and trigger-happy riflemen, ready to slaughter bushwhackers.
They were ready for any threat… except for those same escorts turning on them just outside of Dallas, Texas.
“Sorry. Nothing personal, but we’ve got new orders.”
Even with her hands zip tied, the driver wasn’t intimidated. “You got to be shitting me. Did you people swap sides again? How about we just turn around and come back tomorrow? Who you gonna be allied with then?”
One of the Texas National Guardsmen lowered his weapon. “Sergeant, she’s got a point. We’re technically neutral, so shouldn’t we just let ‘em go home?”
Before his sergeant could answer, a lone soldier strutted up to their powwow. His cockiness marked him as a stranger, even while wearing the same uniform as everyone else. The URA supply truck driver gawked at the US flag on his arm. The Texans bristled, wrestling the urge to fight.
“Collect all their personal weapons, but let them pass. That’s an order.”
The driver bared her teeth at the arrogant Fed. “Quit messing with me, man. You’re not letting us go.”
“No joke. About an hour down the Interstate, you’ll bump into a US artillery unit. They just arrived and they’re short on ammo; it’s been a busy day. They’ll relieve you of all those shells you’re hauling. I’m sure our MP’s can find nice homes for the rest of your supplies.”
The driver chuckled. “Screw you. Send us to a POW camp, but I’ll be damned if I’ll help you kill my brothers and sisters!”
The federal soldier winked. “We don’t do the prisoner thing any longer. Either you collaborate or I’ll remove you from the game. Now, do as you’re told and your unit gets to be one of the first to sample the president’s amnesty plan. Cause a single problem, on the other hand…” he tapped his radio, “well, it’s a dangerous road and our air force is watching all of it, completely unopposed. Missiles don’t give a damn about how brave you are.”
“As I’ve stated repeatedly, the president’s 28th Amendment proposal is an absolute non-starter on the Hill. With both parties. Limiting congressional and presidential service to a single term is a terrible idea. In these dangerous times, the last thing we need is to deprive the people of experienced leadership. It’s a fantasy that’s not worthy of discussion.”
The Speaker of the House, a five-term Congressman himself, fiddled in his seat. He couldn’t seem to decide whether to speak directly into the camera or at the show’s host. Jessica didn’t care to discuss the issue either, but she needed to throw the cunning politico on the defensive. She didn’t draw such an audience every night by making her guests feel warm and safe.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but seventy percent of the American people disagree with you. This constitutional amendment likely would have prevented the current civil war. I think we can all agree we don’t need a repeat performance in a few years. Do you have some alternative plan to offer the country?”
Instead of tackling her question, the Speaker deftly transitioned back to his talking points.
“The only way to ensure this country is never torn apart again is to not only crush the rebels, but keep them down. It worked in Florida. The surviving members of the so-called Florida Defense Forces have faded away. What used to be a hotbed of resistance is now a model for reunification. That’s the fundamental flaw with the president’s amnesty plan. He’s literally letting killers get away with murder. Mass murder, in some cases!”
It was Jessica’s turn to be surprised. “According to the White House, so-called Freedom Brigade members are excluded from the plan. Are you suggesting that URA officials assisted in the chemical attacks in Baton Rouge? I assumed that was propaganda.”
The speaker didn’t have a clue, but he knew how to rile up the American voter.
“There’s no doubt at all that the Freedom Brigades initiated the barbaric chemical warfare strikes, but where do you draw the line between the URA’s official command structure and these Nazis? You of all people should be aware of their vice-like grip of Sacramento and insane fanaticism. You helped open the world’s eyes to the danger these extremists represent.”
Jessica smiled politely, impressed at his master manipulation of the national dialogue. His staff were probably already Tweeting how her past reporting backed up his reckless claims.
Jessica’s groundbreaking expose on the mysterious Freedom Brigades last year might have got her fired from her West Coast network job and deported back to the US, but it was the best thing ever to happen in her career. That notoriety made sure she was welcomed back to her old New York network with open arms. She even finagled her own primetime show out of the bargain.
“Precisely my point, Mr. Speaker. By your own admission, the URA had nothing to do with this atrocity. So how do you justify your support for the president’s harsh retaliation against civilians in rebel-controlled states? Between the crippling airstrikes on basic infrastructure and brutal embargo, the Pentagon is primarily tightening the screws on innocents.”
Jessica’s “gotcha” face was lost on the Speaker of the House. “It’s not ‘retaliation.’ We’re talking about applying selective pressure. Highly effective, as well. Rebel military production has plummeted to unsustainable levels and public support for the war has collapsed. Look how Sacramento has resorted to imposing a draft in a last ditch effort to fill the ranks. Not that it’s doing much good. We’re processing amnesty requests for hundreds of rebel deserters every day.”
“Sir, the question isn’t how effective the president’s policies are, but whether they’re justified.”
The crafty politico stole the spotlight right from under her nose. “Actually, the president doesn’t go far enough. He’s too generous with his peace proposals. Rest assured though, when the war is over, and the president fulfills his promise to step down, Congress will not be so soft hearted. Our reunification plan will do more than restore this country to greatness. We’ll punish those who sought to tear America asunder!”
The rhetoric might have been aimed at the hardcore party members in his district, but the Speaker stared into the camera beaming out to millions. “Those rebels who quit now, while the president is still holding the reins, are going to have it easy. Personally, I hope you rebel scum take your time surrendering. Because I will cancel the automatic amnesty program the second the president resigns. Justice will be served, no matter the price!”