“I wanted to tell you myself the council’s decision regarding your fate. As you know, BL council’s punishment for traitors is to cut out their tongues.”
Sandra’s face turned pale and she started to tremble as she waited for the council’s verdict. Brogan was silent for a moment, took a deep breath and continued in a firm voice. “Given the grievous nature of your crimes, the betrayal of council members, resulting in the death of two of them and who knows how many more rebels, council members at first wanted to execute you. But, after further discussion, it has decided your tongue will be cut out.”
Sandra’s legs buckled, and she collapsed on the cot in her prison. She bowed her head as she tried to comprehend the punishment. Council had every right to execute her but had, instead, chosen to issue a punishment which for her would be like a daily death. She could no longer act on a stage. Her voice had been her life. To no longer speak was a terrible punishment.
She looked up at Brogan; her eyes clear, but haunted. “Council’s decision is right and just. But I hope, after I am punished I can join the ranks of the White Warriors and fight by your side to destroy Priest. I don’t want to beg, but I will if I must. Let me fight. Let me show you how to get to Priest. It’s the only way I can lay to rest the demons haunting my nightmares.”
Brogan looked down at Sandra in grudging admiration. Despite the horrendous punishment awaiting her, she seemed to accept it and still wanted to fight. It might be possible there was room for her in the White Warriors.
“If I agree, you need to know it won’t be easy. Everyone will know who you are and what you did. You won’t be trusted, and it is likely you will be ostracized by your fellow soldiers. If you still want to be a White Warrior and you make it through the training, I will consider it.”
Sandra bowed her head for a minute and then stood at attention. “I understand. And whatever you decide, even if you send me away, I will spend the rest of my life doing what I can to support the Book Liberators and to bring down Priest’s reign of terror.”
Sandra’s acting career ended with removal of her tongue. After her convalescence, she started training with the White Warriors. She proved to be a talented and tireless soldier. Although initially ostracized by other rebel soldiers, her persistence and willingness to endure anything they threw at her gradually earned her the respect of her fellow soldiers. She was never without a small pad of paper and pencil to write down anything she wanted to say, which turned out to be not very much. For some reason, the punishment was easier to bear than she thought it would be. In the imposed silence, she was forced to think instead of pretending as she did when she acted.
As she finally drifted off to sleep in the submarine, Brogan in the bunk nearby, Sandra realized she was content. She might not have a tongue, but she was making up for the wrong she had done. She was a White Warrior.
Chapter Five
Emily
Little Emily was getting bigger every day it seemed to her grandfathers. Frank, Brogan’s father, had been her primary caregiver since her birth. She called him Pop-Pop. Bryan’s father, Pop-Pop2, arrived in Cosala shortly after her birth, and focused on finding ways to keep the little family of three fed. Before Bryan’s death, he and Brogan often spent months on the road, traveling between BL cells, helping them hide precious books and encouraging them in their underground rebellion against the emperor.
There was a long period of time, after Bryan’s death and Brogan’s escape from the Boston prison, when Brogan refused to visit the family, afraid the emperor would find them through her. But there was more to it than that. The horrors she experienced in prison, the rapes and torture, caused the caring and loving Brogan to become a hateful and hardened warrior, determined to bring vengeance on those who caused Bryan’s death. Although it was the start of the elite White Warrior’s rebel unit, it was also the beginning of a long, difficult and very personal journey for Brogan before she could let go of the hatred blinding her to the needs of her daughter.
Emily had just turned five years old before Brogan finally went to see her in Cosala where she lived with her two grandfathers and Mateo, General Juarez’s son.
Mateo, a gangly thirteen-year-old, had somehow missed the unpredictability of most teenagers. Maybe it was because he was so protective of Emily. Much of the time, Frank tended the garden and repaired villagers aging equipment while Mateo assumed responsibility for watching little Emily. Frank didn’t know what he would have done without Mateo’s help, especially after Stephen left to help train rebels in Laredo.
She is going to be tall like her parents, Frank thought as he watched Emily gather eggs for their evening meal on the day Brogan finally came home for a visit.
Emily was beyond inquisitive. She exhausted Frank’s store of knowledge. She read every book he could find, and constantly asked questions he could not answer. Even Mateo, who was very smart, often shook his head at the depth of Emily’s questions. Frank knew she could probably repair the old trucks and tractors as well as he. She would sit with the village elders, respectfully listening to old stories of the ancient ones. With Mateo and Herman in tow, Brogan’s faithful German Shepherd dog, she explored every cave in the area, bringing to the elders unusual plants for them to identify, her Spanish perfect. Her skin was as brown as a native since she spent so much time outdoors, her hair black and curly. The only clue she was not a native were her emerald green eyes.
Emily eventually quit asking about her parents. But, the day of her fifth birthday, her mother suddenly appeared. Herman greeted her enthusiastically, but Emily looked up at her, tilted her curly head and asked in a very adult tone, “And just where have you been for the last three years?”
Frank and Mateo came running at the sound of Herman’s barking. They stood in front of the hut with their mouths open as they heard Emily’s very adult question. Brogan managed a short bark of laughter, bent down and picked up her daughter.
“That’s my girl. Cut right to the chase, why don’t you?”
Emily immediately forgave her mother for the long absence and gave her a tight hug. Frank and Mateo joined in the welcome. Frank had tears in his eyes as he looked at his beloved daughter. She was thin, but she looked healthy. He could see a hardness in her eyes, and deep lines in her face, aging her beyond her years. Her hair was totally white.
His heart ached as he thought about what she suffered in prison and since. She sent periodic messages over the years to let him know she was okay, but nothing more.
“My goodness you’ve grown so much, Emily. I guess I can’t call you Little Em any more, can I?”
“No, Mommy. Did you come for my birthday? It’s today, you know. Did you bring me a present? Where is it? And where is Daddy?”
With the last question, Frank saw Brogan’s face freeze. She looked over at her father.
“I did not tell her anything,” Frank said, “Simply because we really didn’t know anything for sure. Besides, I didn’t think it was my place.”
Brogan held Emily’s hand and led her into the hut where she and Bryan lived together when at home. She looked around and realized it was probably now Mateo’s hut. She sat on the cot and pulled Emily on to her lap.
“Daddy’s dead isn’t he, Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Your daddy died a hero, trying to make this world a better place. And that’s why I did not come to see you before now. The evil emperor has made it very hard for a lot of people and I am now a soldier, fighting against the emperor, just like your daddy did.”
Emily sat quietly for a minute. She had an eidetic memory, as did her mother, so she still had vivid memories of her father.
“When will I be old enough to be a soldier?” she asked solemnly.
“Well, Emily, I hope by the time you are old enough to be a soldier the evil emperor will be destroyed so you don’t need to fight.”
“Mommy, why didn’t you come to see me until now?” Emily looked up at her mother seriously.
Brogan had not cried since h
er parents were captured and imprisoned in San Antonio where her mother died. Now she realized how cold her heart had become, as it started to melt when her daughter asked the one question she dreaded. She swallowed hard. In the very short time since reuniting with Emily she knew she could not lie to such an extraordinary child.
“I was afraid to come,” she said softly as tears started to roll down her cheeks.
“But why would you be afraid to see me?”
“I was afraid I might lead the soldiers here and they might take you away from me and I might never see you again. I believed it better for me to stay away to keep you safe.” The tears became a river and her body began to shake.
“Mommy don’t cry. It’s okay. I understand.” Emily jumped down from her mother’s lap and ran out of the hut. “Pop-pop come quick. There’s something wrong with Mommy!”
Frank rushed into the hut. Brogan was curled up on the cot, sobbing as though her heart would break. Frank pulled her into his arms and held her. Mateo and Emily stood at the door of the hut, worried expressions on their faces. Mateo held Emily’s hand. She had tears coming down her face, too.
“Mateo, please take Emily for a walk down by the river. Emily, honey, your mother is just very, very sad. Give her some time and she’ll be okay. When you come back from your walk she’ll be fine.”
Herman walked silently into the hut and laid his head on to Brogan’s lap, nudging his head under her hand. As her sobs began to lessen, Frank asked her, “Do you want to talk, sweetheart?”
And so, she told him. She told him about finding Bryan buried under the rubble. She told him about the horrors of prison, about the rapes, how she almost died from a hemorrhage, and then she told him about the hundreds of people she killed in the last few years as the White Warrior; killing without any emotions at all. Now emotionally exhausted, she looked up at her father through red, teary eyes.
“How can I live with myself after all I’ve done?”
“Honey, you have been through hell and back. Remember you said in prison you kept repeating, ‘He will never leave you nor forsake you?’ God helped you through everything. He made sure Allison was with you to keep you alive when you started to hemorrhage. And those men you killed? You killed them because you are a soldier and you are at war against an evil tyrant.
“I’ve had many people ask me, ‘How can anyone believe in a god who allows someone like the emperor to murder innocent people, including women and children?’ The truth is, I’m not smart enough to answer that question. But this is what I do know. I believe in a Supreme Being who knows everything. And I believe He knows sometimes the only way to deal with evil people is to destroy them because he knows what will happen if they live. What might our world be like if America had not stepped in and stopped Hitler and the Japanese in the 1940’s? Of if Prime Minister Altero had not stopped the radical Islamic terrorists in World War III? How many more millions of innocent people would have died if America had not joined those wars?
“Unfortunately, like many before him who gain power, once he had power Altero took it too far and implemented the banning of so many of our precious freedoms: freedoms of religion, speech, reading and writing. And Emperor Priest is taking it even farther. It is very possible you are in this time and place to lead the effort to stop him. Each person you are forced to kill will continue to take a terrible toll on you, especially if you kill out of hate or revenge. But if you focus on the reasons for this war, restoring our freedoms, I believe it will be less apt to harm the loving and caring person you are.
While Frank talked, Brogan sat with her head against her father’s shoulder. She was strangely at peace for the first time in years. She sat quietly for a while. Frank said nothing as she processed what he said. She decided she was through talking about herself. She realized she unconsciously petted Herman, so she leaned over, rubbing her face against his fur.
“I’ve missed you, Herman.”
“Hey, how about your old Dad?” Frank said jokingly.
“And you, too, Dad, more than you can possibly know.” She gave him a hug, stood up and looked down at her father still sitting on the cot. “I need to spend some time with you, Mateo and Emily before I must go back to the fight. Thank you so much for listening and helping me to face my demons. I know now I still must deal with the fact my life will undoubtedly include killing, but now I think I can put it in perspective, thanks to your wise words. Now, where is my daughter? A birthday party is the next order of business.”
She wiped tears from her face, straightened her shoulders and walked from the hut into the evening twilight. Frank had a difficult time swallowing the huge lump in his throat. He was terrified of what his only daughter might face in the future. She had already been through so much. But at the same time, he was so very proud of her.
Although Brogan saw her family at least once a year for the next two years, it would be another ten years before she was finally reunited permanently with them.
Chapter Six
A Reluctant General
The battle for Austin City began at 4 am on July 4, 2126. A thousand White Warriors and another two thousand rebel fighters surreptitiously slipped into the city during the previous week, disguised as hobos. Once they settled into their pre-arranged, strategic positions, General Veracruz’s aide shot off a flare seen for miles in the still dark morning sky. Rebels removed their disguises, ready to fight.
Priest’s soldiers concentrated their security in three areas of the metropolitan area: two thousand soldiers in and around the northern dome which had formerly housed House of Commons members, their families and other government officials; two thousand camped throughout the deserted University of Texas Austin campus; and two thousand soldiers on the south side of the city, primarily in tents near the San Marcos suburb.
Although outnumbered two to one, rebel forces had the element of surprise on their side. The White Warriors were to root out the enemy in and around the dome. Another thousand rebels, including several former UTA students who knew the campus, were given the responsibility of clearing the UTA campus of soldiers. The remaining thousand rebels in the motorcycle regiment had the maneuverability to handle the less populated San Marcos suburb.
The flare went up, and the rebels pounced, catching soldiers totally by surprise, with most still asleep in their cots. They had become complacent and only a few walked any kind of sentry perimeters. It was a simple matter of silently trussing up sentries and then, as quietly as possible, surrounding sleeping soldiers. Getting into the dome was easy, since several of the rebels implanted their old T-chips, passing the automated security to let the rest of the rebels inside.
Within less than six hours Austin City was freed by rebels, with only limited resistance, and about a hundred injured rebels and two killed. Since most enemy soldiers were asleep, they surrendered without firing a shot. Any who resisted were immediately shot with the rebel’s superior guns, aided by the incredibly effective augmented faceplates, used now by all rebels and introduced by the Canadians to the first White Warrior, Brogan. The general estimated only about 200 of the enemy were killed or injured.
Now, what to do with more than 5,000 prisoners? The general and his officers agreed ahead of time to bring all prisoners to Texas Memorial Stadium. Rebel soldiers guarded them from the bleachers. A temporary laser fence surrounded the prisoners while rebel officers met outside the stadium to figure out what to do with them. Moving prisoners into the stadium had taken several hours, a task completed shortly after noon.
General Veracruz instructed officers to tell rebel soldiers to not show any signs of celebrating their victory until prisoners were secured.
“We have no idea how the civilian population will react to our victory, so stay on guard. We don’t know how many of them support the emperor,” officers told the rebel soldiers after the parameter around the stadium was secured. “It isn’t over yet.”
Ironically, the officers met in Cowboy Joe’s warehouse where the Book Liberator
s started ten years before the Battle of Austin City. They just started their discussion on what to do with prisoners, when the general saw a familiar face, escorted by one of the rebel sentries.
“Joe Hawkins!” He hollered. “Let him in soldier. He’s a friend.”
Joe was the owner of Cowboy Joe’s BBQ. He hadn’t changed much in the past decade; maybe grayer and thinner, but otherwise the general would have recognized him anywhere.
“Come in, Joe. Let me introduce you to some folks.”
The general introduced Joe as one of the original members of the BL and told his officers about the role he played in their early communication efforts. The officers all stood and applauded. Joe, although pleased with their accolades, seemed a bit embarrassed by the attention.
“What can I do for you, Joe?” Juan asked as he gestured for him to sit to an open seat.
“First, congratulations on the successful freeing of Austin City, General,” Joe stated firmly. “Secondly, I’ve been appointed by the underground citizen’s council to express to all of you our deep appreciation for your efforts. The past five years have not been easy for residents. We have major food shortages, there is lack of adequate health care, and most of our businesses have either shut down because owners left, or because they were shot or imprisoned by Priest’s soldiers. Our infrastructure is a mess.
“We know it is probably too soon for you to tell us what your plans are, but we hope you will support our efforts to re-start food shipments and provide some medical assistance for our most ill citizens, if you can spare it. We could also use some help establishing security systems against possible incursions by more of Priest’s soldiers.”
The Slave Warrior Page 6