New America 02 - Resistance (9 page)

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Authors: Richard Stephenson

BOOK: New America 02 - Resistance
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“I’m
sure Max won’t let that happen.”

CHAPTER NINE

 

Regional Governor Roberto Jimenez awoke in his Malibu home and pressed the button to summon his nurse.  Roberto’s decades-long battle with multiple sclerosis had cost him the use of his legs.  If not for Andrew, his faithful caregiver, the governor would be completely bedridden. As much as he loathed his emasculating dependence, Roberto knew he no longer had the physical strength needed to tend to his own basic personal needs.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Hurry up. I need to piss like a racehorse.”

“I keep telling you, Mr. Jimenez,
there’s nothing wrong with using the bedpan.”  Andrew did his best to sound like a concerned caretaker so as not to embarrass Roberto.

“And I keep telling you, I’m not pissing in a fucking jug!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.  Remember, you promised to watch your temper. We need to keep your blood pressure down.”

“Whatever.
Just get me to the bathroom.”

Andrew lifted Roberto out of bed and placed him in his wheelchair.  Roberto maneuvered
himself into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Do you need any help, sir?”

“No, I’m fine. Computer, report.”

“In the wake of the Golden Gate Bridge attack, widespread demonstrations have sprung up in San Francisco, Anaheim, Los Angeles, San Diego, and Sacramento.”

“Is that so?  Show them to me.”

Five separate windows appeared
on the bathroom mirror, each broadcasting similar reports of somewhat peaceful demonstrations threatening to erupt into violence at a moment’s notice. Picket signs delivered tasteless racist slogans as groups of malcontents billowed in the litter-filled streets. 

Roberto found the cries for retribution amusing.  Even without watching the videos, he knew the demonstrations we
ren’t aimed at him or the UAE.  The citizens of his region knew better than to speak out against the UAE since to do so resulted in the death penalty.  Angry citizens harkening back to the days of the democratic United States thought it was all a bluff, a fear tactic meant to control the populace.  At first, protestors were arrested and imprisoned, with public execution at a later, more convenient, time.   Roberto thought this measure would be enough but was shocked when even more brazen fools protested the executions and demanded governmental reform.  Without haste, he ordered in the troops and gunned down the recalcitrant protestors in the street, leaving their bloody, bullet-ridden bodies behind.

“Computer, what’s on the schedule?”

“Sir, President Sterling is requesting to speak with you.”

Roberto yel
led for Andrew to get him from the bathroom to his desk.

“Establish the connection.”

“Good morning, Roberto, is this a bad time?” Simon asked once the link was completed.

“Not at all, Mr. President. W
hat can I do for you?”

“I’m on my way to your home.
I should be there in less than an hour.”

“A ple
asant surprise, Mr. President. If you’d have given me more notice, I could have prepared a reception in your honor.”

“That won’t be necessary; my visit is unscheduled and unannounced for a reason.  I have something to discuss with you that requires the utmost secrecy.”

“I’m honored, Mr. President.  This can’t wait till the funeral?”

“No, Roberto, it cannot
.  Tell no one about my arrival and make no preparations.”

“I look forward to it, Mr. President.”

 

***

 

President Simon Sterling emerged from his helicopter and followed the
flagstone path to Regional Governor Jimenez’s guest home.  Roberto waited alone in the dining room, his nervous expectation nearly getting the best of him.

“Mr. President, I took the liberty of having coffee and pastries set out for you.  Help yourself.  I know you said no preparations, but I
don’t have it in me to be a less than gracious host.”

“Thank you, Robe
rto.  I just didn’t want to attract attention to my visit.”

“I must say
I’m rather surprised by this, Mr. President.  It’s not like you to sneak around.”

“You are indeed correct.  Once I say what I have to say, you’ll understand the need for discretion.”

“I’m all ears, Mr. President.”

“To put it frankly, Roberto, the UAE is on a path to destruction.  Well, to be more accurate, The Pulse Zone is on a path to destruction.”

“How so?”

“We’ve made significant strides in restoring the infrastructure
, but the problem of maintaining law and order remains.  Much of the region is being divided up into small pockets controlled by either crime lords or powerful individuals who can offer a community the protection for which all are so desperately longing.  At first I put a stop to it but soon saw the benefit of these communities.”

“Meaning
they were simply one less thing for you to worry about, correct?”

“Yes.  As long as they
were minding their own business and not causing trouble, I left them alone.  All of our efforts have been focused on getting the power back on and rebuilding the interstates, but The Silent Warriors stymie our progress at every turn. Butler will clear out a stretch of road and rebuild a bridge, and those cursed terrorists will come in behind him and undo everything.  It’s making things impossible for us.”

“Mr. President, what can I do to help?”

“I’m here to discuss a matter that has been troubling me for months.  Regional Governor Butler has become a problem.”

“Really?  In what way?”

“I’m growing concerned that his loyalties no longer lie with the UAE.  He’s becoming increasingly insolent and enjoys testing the limits of my patience.  I put him in charge of the reconstruction efforts in The Pulse Zone because I thought he could get the job done.”

“You’re not satisfied with his progress?”

“Quite the contrary. He’s doing an exemplary job in spite of all the frustrating setbacks. What troubles me is his affinity for the spotlight.  He’s arrogant and will do anything to gain popularity.  The accusations you made recently about him stockpiling resources and manpower did not fall on deaf ears.  I looked into the matter and discovered that you were correct.”

“To what end?

“Isn’t it obvious?  He’s planning to seize power and get rid of me.”

Roberto laughed. “By himself?  He can’t possibly be that deluded.  Just because he’s making strides in getting The Pulse Zone up and running doesn’t mean he’s in any position to start a civil war.  That sort of egotistic idiocy is the last thing we need right now.  Once Iran is finished with Europe, they’re coming for us. Butler has to know that.”

“I think he’s too blinded by power t
o even care.  He must think he can get rid of me, slip quietly into the driver’s seat and just take the wheel without any bloodshed.”

“What do you want me to do, Mr. President?”

“If I know Jackson like I think I do, he’s going to reach out to some of the other regional governors for support.”

“You know the tw
o of us don’t exactly get along.  I’d be at the bottom of his list.”

“That’s wh
y I came to you, Roberto.  Of all the regional governors, you’re the only one in whom I have implicit trust.  You were instrumental in helping me overthrow Malcolm Powers, and it’s a fortunate coincidence that you and Jackson despise each other.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“I need you to be mindful of the rest of the group.  Use the attack on the Golden Gate Bridge as your cover. Tell them I’m furious with you, furious enough to force you into retirement. A few juicy rumors should get their tongues wagging.”

“I wish
you’d force me into retirement; I could use a break.  What are you planning to do about Butler?”

“Nothing for the time being.  I’m curious to know if he can recruit anyone to his cause.”

“And if he does?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

Benjamin Black had never felt such fervent hatred toward anything or anyone in his life. Yes, he faced the customary loathing for mundane annoyances— he hated getting stuck in traffic, he detested his shitty bosses, and he despised the Dallas Cowboys with a vengeance – but nothing came close to the unmitigated, raw hatred Benjamin harbored for the Unified American Empire. 

Like so many America
ns, Ben felt he’d been deceived by President Simon Sterling.  In the wake of the collapse, Sterling seemed like the perfect answer to the country’s desperate prayers, both a revolutionary and a true patriot.  The guy was smart and ready to cut through a mountain of bullshit to do things right and get them done
fast
.  The fact that Sterling’s initial move was to bring the country’s troops home, leaving the rest of the world to fend for itself,  made him the most beloved president of all time.  And just when Ben thought the man couldn’t possibly top that, President Sterling made it clear to all that his style of dogged isolationism not only referred to military intervention, but to financial relief as well.  Even while the country was mired in The Second Great Depression, the bleeding-heart liberals still wanted to send billions and billions of dollars to feed the starving children of the world.  President Sterling proclaimed that Americans had their own starving children to feed, thank you very much.  No more handouts, no more sticking our noses into foreign matters where they didn’t belong in the first place.  America had enough problems to deal with; the rest of the world was on its own.  Benjamin Black believed in Simon Sterling. If anyone could pull the country out of The Second Great Depression and rebuild The Pulse Zone, he could do it. 

At first, Sterling’s measures seemed strict and imposing
, but Ben and the other terrified citizens sat in quiet acquiescence. Someone needed to bring the hammer down on the degenerate thugs who were in the way of progress.  Curfews weren’t really a bad thing either.  Ben was smart enough to know that darkness is the coziest blanket for evil.  Ben became a bit wary when more and more of the country became compartmentalized.  President Sterling declared that crossing state lines required a passport.  If you were caught in Tennessee with a Florida driver’s license and no passport, you had some serious explaining to do.  Ben questioned the restriction, but drastic situations called for drastic measures…right?

Like most people, Ben harbored an underlying hatred and mistrust of anyone with olive
-colored skin.  He kept these feelings buried beneath a façade of indifference and certainly never acted on them.  A decade of progressively deadlier attacks by The Silent Warriors had fostered his racism and kept the perpetual internal flame burning just beneath his skin. During The Thanksgiving Day Massacre, Ben was at his parents’ house watching the Cowboys game with his siblings and their families.  Like every year, his dad kept stalling the start of the meal so they could sit in front of the TV just a little longer.  With less than two minutes to go in the first quarter, breaking news of the sniper attacks interrupted the game and had Ben screaming at the TV.  Once Ben and his family truly grasped the severity of what they were witnessing, Thanksgiving would never be the same.  When the Super Bowl Massacre of 2023 brought about the demise of the National Football League, Ben joined millions of enraged fans and didn’t object in the slightest when the Middle Eastern internment camps were erected.

Benjamin’s aversion for the UAE deepened as rumors of mass executions ran rampant. 
The massacre of thousands of internees, including innocent women and children, generated an alarming, caustic side effect—the eradication of free speech.  Sterling was far too cunning to provoke the Empire while they were busy conquering Europe.  Censorship reared its menacing head, and the ugly truth withered, its silent death unreported. Once Sterling had an iron grip on the media, he could unleash his madness free from accountability.

New flocks of refugees arrived at Disney World each day, offering passionate firsthand accounts of Sterling’s lunacy.
Everyone knew the president’s first measure of “social reform” would be to clean up the Obama Camps.  Benjamin Black had been earning his keep since he was sixteen years old and had made an honest living ever since, so he viewed the Obama Camps with disgust.  They were filled with lazy bums who expected hard working people to take care of them.  Ben hoped President Sterling would kick these indolent losers square in the ass and force them to find employment, however menial.  Sterling had a simple, quite efficient solution: The Unified National Guard marched in with flamethrowers and burned the camps to the ground, no eviction notice or other advance warning provided.  

Benjamin
faced a serious dilemma.  On the one hand, he was glad the problem got cleaned up, but was appalled by the method Sterling used.  He didn’t know how, but he was going to stop Simon Sterling and help bring down the UAE.  He knew he couldn’t form a militia and go on the offensive; he would be slaughtered before he could make a dent.  Sterling was exactly the type of dictator the former United States of America would have toppled without a backward glance, the irony of which provided Ben a momentary bright spot in an otherwise terrifying reality.

S
omeone had to stop the UAE, and Ben was determined to help make that happen.

Ben was proud of the d
ouble life he lived.  While he plotted and schemed against the UAE in the shadows, on the surface he was a model citizen, loyal and supportive. He treated UAE officers like celebrities when they came to Disney World and made sure they were afforded every luxury; the UAE officers idolized him in return.  Over time, Ben was able to manipulate them into believing he was their ally, and many soon sought his counsel on a variety of topics.  While they poured out their souls to him, Ben used the vital intelligence to undermine their efforts. 

Captain
Nedry Brown was by far the easiest mark.  Ben found the man to be an incompetent officer. He was ignorant and had low self-esteem—both characteristics unbecoming in a leader.  Thus, the soldiers under Brown’s command had no respect for him.  Ben cashed in on the man’s insecurity and did everything possible to boost his fragile ego.  When the good captain finally began to display a measure of confidence, Ben would snap him like a twig, even a minor slight enough to break him.  The vicious cycle had the poor officer’s mind coiled like a spring around Ben’s little finger.  Captain Brown craved Benjamin’s approval like a son would a father’s.  He wasn’t alone, sadly, as many others found themselves in the same needy predicament. Ben prided himself on his skills at psychological manipulation and could have instructed a master class on Machiavelli with little or no preparation.

With his top lieutenant, Jessica Bradley, away investigating the mysteries in southern Florida, Ben had a bit of a problem on his hands.  He needed to get inside Captain Brown’s head to find out what was going on
, but he needed Jessica to do it.  Nedry Brown was quite unattractive and turned into a bumbling fool around women.  Jessica was far too proud  to whore herself out for some cause, no matter how just and honorable it may be, but when it came to Captain Brown, all Jessica had to do was show him a little kindness and respect.  Nedry nearly hyperventilated at her beautiful smile, and she would pretend not to notice, giving the man the misguided impression that he was a charming storyteller.  This simple distraction allowed Ben to play Nedry like a fiddle.  With Jessica gone, the task would prove more difficult. 

Ben a
nd Nedry were sitting in the captain’s private officer’s suite at the Wilderness Lodge.  Ben knew Nedry craved brandy and cigars.  Ben had crates of the stuff on hand but always gave Brown the impression that he went to great lengths to procure this special stash just for him. Nedry smiled at the first-class treatment as he put the cigar in his mouth and allowed Ben to light it.

“Ned?”

“Ben, please.”

Ben sat down across from Captain Brown and lit his own cigar
. After enjoying a slow, smooth sip of brandy, he began again. “Ned?”

“Ben, c’mon.
I already told you what you need to know.  You and yours are safe.  Relax! You have nothing to worry about.”

“Ned, y
ou know me better than that!  Something this big? You had to know I’d be curious about it.  What’s going on?”

“You give me too much credit, Ben.  I really don’t know much more than I told
you earlier.”

“So, you
do
know more!  You gonna make me beg?”

“Don’t be silly. Y
ou know I can’t just spill my guts to you.  All I know is something big is happening in Miami.”

“When?”

“Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“What are the rumors going around?”

“A secret meeting of some kind.  I’ve heard Beck is surrendering.  On the flip side, I also heard Sterling is surrendering to Iran.  All of it’s probably bullshit, but my gut tells me it has something to do with the sudden interest in the slave trade.  The timing is just, I don’t know...”

“The slaver thing is really that big of a deal?  I thought it was just some PR stunt to make the UAE look more civilized.”

“I don’t know, Ben, I can’t help but think the two are connected somehow.  They’re making a huge deal about the liberated slaves you got here.  Seemed to take an interest in some orphan girl, thought maybe they found her parents.”

Ben hated when the UAE took an interest in any
thing to do with his operation. He’d rather they stay the hell out of his business.  Ben knew neither Sterling nor anyone else in the UAE gave two shits about helping an orphan girl.  Burning down Obama Camps and executing Middle Easterners was proof positive that Sterling’s only concern was for furthering his own misguided agenda.

“Orphan girl? 
Here?  Don’t recall an orphan girl.” 

“Dugood?  What was the girl’s name?  Dammit!  McPhee?”

Dupree, you fucking idiot! Her name is Christina Dupree.

“I have no idea, Ned.  Slavers haven’t brought any kids ‘round here in some time.  What’s so special about her?”

“I have no clue, but Colonel Rutherford himself is headed down here to get the girl.  I promise you she’s here somewhere, and she’s important for some reason.”

“Rutherford?  He’s coming here?  When?”

“Dinnertime tomorrow.  I’m headed out in the morning, leaving one of my NCOs behind to look for her.  Was hopin’ you’d help me.  Can you spare a few men to help look for her?”

“Ned, you know I’m here t
o help you in any way I can. Of course we’ll help look for the girl.  Who are you leaving behind?”

“Godecker, and I appreciate it,
Ben.  Need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”  Captain Brown gulped down the rest of his brandy and snuffed out his cigar.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight
, my friend. It was good to see you.” 

Ben exited the suite and hurried
down the stairs.  Instead of retiring for the night, he rode his motorcycle back to his office on Main Street, USA.  He dug through the papers on his desk and found the intake information on the UAE’s prodigal daughter. 
What the hell is so important about this little girl? 
Every refugee that took up residence in Ben’s amusement park community underwent a very basic screening process that included paperwork, medical screening, interviews, and even a short orientation meeting.  Ben’s people had efficiently trimmed the entire process down to the point that a couple dozen refugees could complete the intake in only a few hours.  Once Ben reviewed the orientation packets, they were carefully filed away in the records office.  While his office clerks were organized to a fault, Ben was notoriously less so.  He knew the girl’s file was scattered somewhere amongst the mounds of clutter on his conference table.  Ben frantically tossed aside stacks of papers, and by the time he found the girl’s buried file, his office bore a striking resemblance to a ransacked crime scene.

Ben poured over her orientation packet
, hoping some clue would pop out at him.  The only obvious discrepancy he found was the fact that she wasn’t an orphan.  In her interview, the girl stated that her father died when she was a baby and her mother was living in Colorado. She also mentioned being separated from her grandparents during the Collapse of 2027.
What the hell is so special about this little girl?  What does the UAE want with her? 
One thing was certain—he wasn’t going to hand the child over until he knew what made her so important.

 

***

 

Late the next afternoon, Benjamin Black rolled out the red carpet for an honored guest, Colonel Lionel Rutherford of the Unified American Empire.  Ben had never met the man but knew much about his reputation.  From what Ben had been told, the man was sadistic, arrogant, and lethal—making him a model UAE officer.

Ben had
spent the morning getting to know Chrissy Dupree—an exceptional child, given the circumstances.  She had apparently witnessed unspeakable horrors, yet had made it through in remarkable fashion.  Chrissy was polite, enthusiastic and— in stark contrast to the world around her—optimistic.

Ben had a long list of theories as to her importance and managed to cross each one off the list.  None of her relative
s had any connection to the UAE. The girl had never seen a soldier from the UAE, and she had never set foot on a military installation.  The girl’s importance to the UAE was a complete mystery to Ben, making her even more valuable to the resistance.  If she possessed critical knowledge about the UAE, she could prove useful in striking a devastating blow.  But more than that, Ben had accepted this child into his community and felt responsible for her wellbeing. He doubted the UAE’s interest in this girl had anything to do with kindness.

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