Sweetness in the Dark (18 page)

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Authors: W.B. Martin

BOOK: Sweetness in the Dark
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“We won’t,” the moderator said and cut her off.

Paul was nervous. Suddenly Rebecca was an ally. Something must be wrong if she’s agreeing with him on anything. He rethought his argument and concluded that she would turn on him eventually. He pressed on.

“I can name a number of profound problems in our Federal system that should be addressed,” Paul said.

“So can I, but we have a national emergency going on and we need strong leadership to pull us through. Better to have a flawed document and survive then a perfect one but perish,” Petrasek said.

“Spoken like a Ben Franklin, but I’ll quote a more recent politician. ‘A crisis is a terrible thing to waste.” The entire Convention cracked up at Paul’s joke. He had just quoted the last President’s Chief of Staff, someone that had looked on the economic problems as an opportunity to make government bigger.

Paul continued, “We all laugh now at the context of that quote, but I am deadly serious. Our citizens are going through a traumatic time and because of some brave state leadership, most will survive. Other states and countries don’t have the good fortune of having an insightful government, and they are suffering and dying. This is the time when our citizens will accept major changes to their form of government. It’s time to establish a system that is more cognizant of the 21st Century.”

“I agree totally. We need a 21st Century constitution. I call for the vote,” Rebecca said.

Paul cringed. With her advocacy, the other delegates might bolt away from the idea of a totally new document. The question was called however, and Paul awaited the Convention’s decision.
Would they expedite things and move on. Or would they take their time and deliberate on changes?
he wondered.

Again the votes went alphabetically. Paul could tell right off that Rebecca’s enthusiasm for a rewrite had dissuaded some states from working on a new document. As the votes totaled, the Texas’ delegation smiles grew. The vote was going in their favor.

Before the last state had voted, Texas had its victory. Twenty two states had opted to adopt the existing U.S. Constitution. Thirteen states and five provinces had voted against.

“Well, finally, we have some consensus. We can move ahead now with making this country strong again,” Horst announced. The Convention started to break up. Things were done as far as they were concerned and it was time to head home.

“Mr. Moderator, if everyone will please settle down. I’m afraid we’re not done here,” Paul announced to the room.

“Sure as heck we are. I guess you want a motion to adjourn just to be formal?” Horst rejoined.

“Mr. Moderator, please inform my colleague from Texas that under the original signed agreement calling for a Constitutional Convention, there was a large provision for said adoption,” Paul offered.

“Yes sirrea, and that provision was that only a two-thirds vote could adopt any constitution,” the Montana governor said. “And as a signatory to that agreement, I did not see a two-thirds vote just now. Ladies and gentlemen, sit down. We have work to do.”

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

 

Missoula, Montana  (7 months after P-Day)

 

General Ed Gale stood by his Stryker Armored Car and looked over the valley. A motley collection of vehicles stood ready to advance on his orders. The regular Army had provided a Stryker Company with six vehicles. They would be the main offensive power in the drive across northern Idaho and eastern Washington.

The national command structure of the new Union of American States formed in Cheyenne as the political talks continued. General Gale received regular updates on the political talks from his friend, Dr. Paul Kendall. In turn, Ed would pass on to Paul reports on their progress bringing social order back to an area that had been ravaged by chaos for the previous six months.

Ed was nervous regarding what he was about to find on the other side of the Montana border. The State of Idaho had realized back in 2007, when it began preparing for this possibility, that the Idaho panhandle was indefensible. In the event of societal collapse, the urban population of Spokane would ‘head for the hills’ and there was no physical barrier to stop them from heading east into Idaho.

Montana had put up a defensive line in the mountainous area of the Idaho-Montana state line when ‘the Pulse’ first happened. That defensive line had held tight on letting anyone through. The situation in the Missoula Valley had been shaky, as food for the existing population was barely adequate. The local citizens had fought hard to bar any more people from entering the valley.

As the food stocks were replenished by rail, the restrictions at the barrier were eased. Some refugees came over the mountains, but the roads were soon blocked by snow, closing off escape from the chaos. The Clearwater and Snake Rivers to the south had been additional natural barriers that the locals defended against escaping refugees.

The people that had remained in the Coeur d’ Alene area had a rough winter. Ed realized that he and his troops might not be readily welcomed. He lifted his field glasses to check his column once more.

Over ten thousand men and women were waiting for the ‘go’ order as they stood by their transportation. Ed shook his head at the collection of pickup trucks that had been converted with carburetors. Bench seating had been built into each bed and a dozen troops with their gear and supplies would be able to ride. With the fuel trucks and other big rigs providing logistical support, over a thousand vehicles were ready.

“OK, let’s roll,” Ed said to his adjutant. He climbed up into his Stryker and motioned for the Company to move out. His driver fired up the engine. They would be the last Stryker in line as they led the column west on Interstate 90. Ed looked behind him as his troops climbed into their pickups and the drivers gunned the engines.

“Radio the scouts to take lead,” Ed ordered. His radioman relayed the general’s orders and quickly a platoon of motorcycles and Jeeps sprinted past the lumbering Strykers in the left lane of the freeway. Ed looked out the windshield and saw the motorcycles leave the Jeeps in the dust as they accelerated for the pass into Idaho.

He made a note to remind everyone this wasn’t a race.
They need to work as a combined combat arm
, he thought. The scout’s job was to locate trouble up ahead so the main column could be warned. Troops in pickup trucks had no protection from an armed attack, hence the armored vehicles leading the way.

The Stryker Armored Personnel Carrier had been perfected in the war with Iraq. It was designed to withstand rocket propelled grenades and could stop most rifle rounds. With its V-shaped bottom, it provided survivability to the crew in the case of an IED attack. Bombs or mines buried in the road and exploded remotely had been the most lethal weapon in Iraq. The Stryker had gone a long way to solving that problem.

“Sir, I have Missoula Command on the net. They are reporting from Boise Command that our Southern and Central forces have initiated their advance,” Ed’s radioman reported.

“Very good, Sergeant. Keep me informed,” Ed said. As overall Pacific Northwest Commander, he was responsible for all three prongs advancing west into Oregon and Washington. He knew he should be back in Boise Command but he wanted to see first-hand the reception his forces would receive. If the population was resentful of help coming late, he would need a lot more troops to keep order. If the population of the areas he entered was glad to be liberated, then the advance west could be quickened.

Ed pictured his subordinate commanders as they led their troops. He had selected each commander personally and trusted their judgment. All three were former U. S. Navy Seals which hadn’t set too well with the regular Army types. But, regular Army hadn’t provided much in the way of personnel or equipment.

The captain in command of the Stryker Company sat next to Ed. He asked, “General, do you think regular Army is going to get its act together soon?”

“I hope so, Captain. If the people up ahead are with us, we can clear the Northwest of the criminal gangs with the troops we have. But when we head to California we better have some experience with us. We aren’t sure how many Chinese troops have been brought over, and we don’t have a clear picture of their aircraft and heavy stuff.”

“I can’t believe Big Green folded like they did.”

“Captain, when ‘the Pulse’ hit and the grid went down in most of the country, it was natural that all those troops would think of their families first,” Ed offered. He had seen the reports of the desertion rate in the Army. The Air Force hadn’t done much better at keeping its personnel at the ready. Even the Navy saw huge desertions as ships returned to port.

Luckily the ships had always been hardened from nuclear attack and the related EMP associated with a nuclear explosion. Some of the electronics had been crippled, but the basic system to operate the ships still functioned.

Now, the still-capable ships sat in Navy bases, lacking crews to take them out to sea. Only in the area of the Union of American States were men and women slowly returning to duty. The stability offered by the advanced preparations by those states ensured societal continuation. With their families safe from the chaos, the armed forces of the UAS were rebuilding themselves.

After about an hour of driving, Ed’s Stryker slowed to a stop. “Refugees up ahead, Sir.”

“Captain, let me out and then get the column moving again. I’ll catch up.” Ed climbed down out of the Stryker as a group of about twenty emaciated people gathered around. Two open-topped Jeeps that had been following the Strykers stopped and four men jumped out.

Their assault rifles were slung to their chest and their fingers were on the triggers. These were the general’s security detail, always ready to protect their charge. Two were former Navy Seals. Two other men were in their late fifties, but looked like they were ready to run a marathon. Ed wasn’t sure what their classification had been most recently, but he knew them from Ranger school a long time back.

Ed relied on a lot of older veterans. Most weren’t quite in the shape these two guys were, but all of them lent valuable experience to all the young farm boys that had shown up to defend their country. They had all been training together now for three months, and the combination of experienced veterans teamed with his young troops was working well.

Patriotism and love of country were strong bonding factors. He would observe how it worked when the shooting started. He had faith in the belief that a common purpose would win the day. Common criminals and street thugs couldn’t stand up to a determined, well-armed citizenry.

“It’s about time. Where have you guys been? Do you have any idea what it’s like on the other side of them mountains?” said a man that appeared to be the leader. His voice trembled as he spoke his piece. “You left us in the hands of thugs and didn’t lift a finger. It’s criminal.”

Ed noticed the sunken eyes of the women and the distended bellies of the few children in the group. All were skeletons pushing bicycles laden with their entire possessions. Ed chose his words carefully.

“Sir, where are you and your people from?” Ed asked.

“Outside Ellensburg, Washington, as if that matters now. We left when the hoard from Seattle hit us. We’ve been walking and starving now for six months. And from the looks of you soldier boys, you’ve been living well over here the whole time,” the man said. The group behind him all murmured in agreement.

“I apologize for all the people who failed you. The state of Washington was too busy building wind farms and solar panel arrays and failed to protect their citizens. Idaho and Montana avoided those schemes and spent money on a hardened electrical grid.”

“Still no matter. You should have come and protected us when the trouble began. If you were so prepared, you could have helped your neighbors.”

“Yes, sir, we should have. But when ‘the Pulse’ hit we were scrambling to maintain order in our part of the world. We didn’t have anything to spare for areas that hadn’t prepared. By the time we were stable, winter had set in and the passes were closed,” Ed offered. He was afraid this would be the response he would receive as they liberated the country ahead.

“It’s just not fair,” the man broke into tears and began sobbing. Ed reached out and grabbed him to keep him from collapsing. The man smelled and Ed realized he would be smelling unwashed bodies for the indefinite future.

One of the troops assisted the man as one of the women walked up to Ed. “Please forgive his anger. He’s lost his wife and two of his children. His only surviving son is struggling with a fever.”

Ed looked over at a listless body crumpled in a garden cart. His eyes began to tear up. This would be harder than he thought. In all his career he had witnessed horrible atrocities committed by all sorts of people, but this would be the first time it was his fellow countrymen that had suffered.

“We’ll take care of him, Sir. Thank you and your troops for what you are heading out to do. There are some very bad people up ahead. Make them pay for what they’ve done to America. I never thought it could happen here,” the woman said.

“Madam, you have my oath that they will be brought to swift military justice. There will be no civilian courts where we’re headed. I’ll have my men get some food for your people. I’m afraid we’re all heading west and can’t take you anywhere.”

“Food and a little medicine will suffice for us. We’ve walked this far on less. Go. You have God’s work to do,” the woman said.

His troops were already handing out Meals Ready to Eat (MRE) to everyone and throwing a satchel of extra meals on the side of the road along with a first aid kit from the Jeep. Ed and his bodyguards loaded up in their two Jeeps and joined the column heading west.

After a quiet distance the driver turned to Ed. “It’s hard to witness, General. Americans reduced to rags and starving. Makes my blood boil.”

Ed thought about what his sergeant had just said. He was afraid they were in for far worse in the days ahead. He quietly stared straight ahead. Tears welled up in his eyes and streaked straight back across his face in the wind.

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