Secession II: The Flood

by Joe Nobody

  A mumbled, moaning sound escaped from Mudar’s exposed throat, his eyebrows working overtime in the effort to speak.

  “You don’t believe me?” Sam responded, an expression of artificial hurt crossing her face.

  She moved out of his sight, and then the room began to spin. Whatever he was strapped to was being turned.

  Two steel tables came into view, each surprisingly adorned with a corpse displayed on its cold surface. Sam came into view again, this time moving to the end of the closest slab.

  She reached up and pulled down the white sheet covering the deceased, exposing the gruesome, mangled face of a man.

  Despite the damage, Mudar recognized one of his accomplices.

  Without another word, Sam moved to the second body and repeated the exposure. The prisoner’s low moan made it clear he understood both of his partners were dead.

  Just at the peripheral of Mudar’s vision, a door opened. A moment later, he spied a tall man entering the sterile room, a substantially thick, clear plastic bag dangling from his hand.

  “Did you find them?”

  “Yeah,” replied Zach, “It took me a little longer than expected, but I dug them up. They’re none too happy about it either.”

  Pulling over a cart, Zach set the bag on the surface and then wheeled it so Mudar could see.

  “So glad to see you are awake now, my friend, so that you can appreciate my skills,” he sneered, visions of Hinton in the forefront of his mind. “We know you’ve lived in Texas long enough to know what fire ants are, Mudar,” Zach continued. “I just came back from digging up a nice, fat nest of the little bastards. Believe me, they are hyper-pissed and ready to take revenge.”

  Zach lifted the bag, presenting Mudar the contents. Inside were several shovels’ worth of dirt, the soil seeming to shift and move before his eyes. It took the prisoner a moment to focus, his eyes growing wide when he realized it was a swarming ball of ants inside.

  Sam then appeared, holding a plastic length of tubing, about the diameter of a garden hose.

  “So here’s the deal, Mudar. We have questions. Lots of questions. Now we know you are a dedicated, young fanatic whose religious faith would sustain you through practically any sort of torture we could devise. So we had to get creative.”

  It was Zach’s turn. “As I’m sure you’re aware, your mouth is locked open. If you don’t agree to answer our inquiries openly and honestly, I will cut a small hole in that bag and connect the tube between the nest and your mouth. The ants will slowly eat you alive, from the inside out.”

  Three clues told the rangers their little scheme was working. First, the prisoner’s eyes darted between Zach’s face and the gallon Ziploc full of ants. Second was the film of perspiration that formed on the fellow’s forehead. Lastly, a deep moan sounded from his chest.

  Sam stepped forward, still holding the tube. “We are in the basement of the Dallas morgue. These walls are completely soundproof. My partner and I are exhausted and hungry, so our plan is to connect the tube, get something to eat, and catch up on a little shuteye. We figure by morning, you’ll gladly answer our questions in exchange for a quick, merciful death. By that time, the ants should just about have entered your brain… or what’s left of it after several hours of excruciating pain. They are quite the efficient, little foragers.”

  Mudar’s eyes snapped right and left, moving back and forth between the two rangers as if trying to judge how serious they might be.

  “So what’s it going to be?” Zach asked.

  Mudar merely produced a deep growl, his mouth unable to form any words.

  “Shit,” Zach said. “Sorry. I forgot you can’t talk.”

  The Texan then reached up and began twisting a knob, relaxing the gag enough for Mudar to form understandable words.

  “You are bluffing,” Mudar spat. “Torture is illegal in America. This is bullshit. I demand to speak to a lawyer!”

  Zach laughed, half turning to Sam. “He thinks he’s in America. Now that’s funny.”

  Sam, however, remained stoic. “You’re not in the U.S.A., Mudar. You’re in Texas, and we only afford civil rights to citizens or those who enter our country legally. We already know you don’t fall into either of those two categories, so in reality, we can do anything we want to you.”

  “Besides,” Zach continued, glancing at the still crawling bag of insects, “If I had the choice between a lawyer and the fire ants, I might go with the ants.”

  Despite a mouth full of rubber and steel, Mudar managed a clear, “Fuck you.”

  Shrugging, Zach reached into his jacket and produced a small pocketknife. He turned for the bag, no doubt intending to carve an opening for the hose. “There’s a roll of duct tape over on the counter, Sam. Mind fetching it for me?”

  “No problem,” she replied.

  While he waited, Zach turned back to Mudar’s mouthpiece and began cranking it open again. The action seemed to fill the prisoner’s eyes with terror.

  “You know,” Zach began with a casual tone, “I’ve seen the videos that ISIS has posted on the internet. Beheadings with a small, dull knife, putting a man in a cage and burning him alive, executing enemy soldiers… you know the ones. The way I figure it, we’re a little behind when it comes to torture and cruelty. In a way, it’s my civic duty to help us catch up. Now these little ants will take a while to eat you. They’ll have to build a new nest inside your body, lay eggs and hatch young. We’ll have to speed up the video, but I promise to make sure and slow down the parts where you’re screaming for mercy. Do you have family back in Egypt? Are they squeamish? Will it bother them to see you begging for a quick death?”

  Mudar was sweating profusely now, his eyes darting between Zach’s handiwork with his pocketknife, the boiling ball of ants, and the ranger’s face.

  Sam moved a video camera, complete with tripod, to just the right spot. Next, she drew close and inserted one end of the plastic tube into Mudar’s mouth. That did it.

  Thrashing against his restraints, Mudar managed to wail a garbled, “Okay! Okay! Please… what do you want to know?”

  The two rangers exchanged looks, Zach unable to help himself. “Did he just tell us to go fuck ourselves?”

  “I think that’s what he said,” Sam played along, giving Mudar a scolding glance. “Maybe we should wash that filthy mouth out with soap. It would be easy to do about now.”

  The prisoner continued, “No! No! Ask your questions! I’ll answer anything!”

  Zach sighed, “It’s difficult to tell, but I think he just called you a queen bitch. You’d think a man in his position would be able to hold his tongue…. No pun intended.”

  “Loosen his gag,” Sam nodded. “I want to hear what this little shit has to say.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Zach moved to twist the gag’s control. In a few moments, Mudar’s words were formed with clarity.

  “I will answer your questions,” he finally spat.

  Again, the rangers exchanged a doubtful glance. Zach unscrewed the mouthpiece even further, and then barked, “What were you going to do with that airplane?”

  “My instructions were to enter a low orbit over a certain geographical swath of West Virginia and keep it under the radar. We were to demand 200 million dollars in ransom and our guaranteed release, or we would fly the plane into the White House.”

  “Where are the counterfeit Texas greenbacks being printed?”

  “I know nothing of any counterfeit money.”

  Zach glanced at Sam and said, “I didn’t think this guy was going to be forthright and come clean.” The ranger then reached for the gag’s control.

  “No! Really! I don’t know anything about fake money. In Allah’s name, I’m telling the truth!” Mudar protested.

  It was Sam’s turn, “Okay. We’ll come back to that. Why did ISIS pick a Texas airplane to hijack?”

  “I am not told such things, but isn’t the answer obvious? Having Texas and the United States as enemies benefits our cause.
Besides, your country is helping the dictator Assad and his band of murderers in Damascus. Did you think we would simply stand by and let that go unanswered?”

  The interrogation continued for over two hours, Sam and Zach using every technique learned over their combined years of law enforcement. All the while, the video camera recorded the entire exchange.

  Despite all of their attempts and deceptions, Mudar maintained he knew nothing of any counterfeiting operation, and eventually Zach believed him. It also became evident the failed hijacker was out of the loop concerning the oilfield equipment that had been shipped to Syria.

  When they had finished, Zach left the room and strolled down the hall to a large conference area filled with lawmen, politicians, and authority figures from all over Texas.

  The group had been watching the interrogation via a wireless link to Sam’s video camera, the entire exchange displayed on an oversized flat screen at the head of the room. Several people approached Zach, extending their hands and offering congratulations.

  “Looks like you wrapped this up with a bow, Ranger Bass,” Major Putnam greeted. “That little trick with the ants was pretty cute. I’ll have to remember that one.”

  Zach ignored the praise. “We still didn’t find out where the fake money is coming from, sir. I feel like our investigation is back to square one.”

  Putnam nodded, “Still, you and Ranger Temple saved a lot of lives today, as well as sending an international message not to mess with Texas. I’ll inform President Simmons of your findings. I’m sure he’ll be having a conversation with Washington shortly.”

  Chapter 11

  “Throughout the past decade, the United States of America believed her citizens were war-weary,” President Simmons stated boldly from behind the podium. “The leadership in Washington, desperate to avoid being dragged into yet another Middle Eastern conflict, let that public opinion mold their foreign policy.”

  The president of Texas paused for a moment, scanning the joint session of the Texas Congress with serious eyes. “Despite the lessons learned from WWII, where isolationism and pacification allowed Germany and Japan to build nearly invincible military machines, the world did little to confront ISIS. Oh, sure, there were limited air strikes, sanctions, and the airwaves were filled with harsh words. But in reality, those measures were weak at best.”

  Noting several heads were nodding in the otherwise silent chamber, Simmons continued. “Rather than squash their movement in its infancy, the world’s governments let these terrorist movements grow and fester, allowing their tentacles of cancer-like radicalism to penetrate and infect neighboring countries. Like Hitler expanding Germany’s control in the late 1930s, the world has stood idly by and permitted these madmen to grow stronger with each passing day.”

  “Now, the people of Texas are the target of this ruthless mechanism. Ruled by a warped, antiquated interpretation of Islam, those who are compelled to build an Islamic State now have the Lone Star in their evil crosshairs. Were it not for the brave actions of our diligent law enforcement community, a disaster rivaling that of September 11, 2001 would have befallen our new nation, with hundreds, possibly thousands of dead and wounded.”

  President Simmons inhaled deeply and then focused his gaze where he knew the television cameras were positioned. He was coming to the good part.

  “They failed… this time. Yet, the fact remains that no matter how resourceful our brave government servants are, no matter how much we focus on prevention or allocate resources to security, eventually an attack against us is going to succeed. It’s simply a risk that an open, free society cannot avoid.”

  Spreading his hands for emphasis, Simons let his voice drop a single octave. “But we can do our best. We can make every effort to exercise our inalienable right to survive… to protect our citizens and our way of life. For this reason, I hereby request these esteemed bodies, duly elected by the people of Texas, to authorize a declaration of war against the organization known as ISIS.”

  A lightning bolt of emotion shot through the gathered assembly. Most had expected tough words, saber rattling, and a few threats at worst. For President Simons to request a full-out declaration of hostilities was a shocker.

  Like most talented politicians, Simmons had anticipated the reaction. He used the global media event to get out in front of what was sure to be a controversial issue. “The United States, in the last two wars of this century, spent trillions of dollars in the Middle East and lower Asia. We all poured money and blood into the region, trying to buy democracy, attempting to establish a beachhead for freedom and thus deny those who would attack our way of life. The effort obviously failed, and by some accounts, has actually made our foes stronger.”

  “Why then would Texas even consider becoming involved? Knowing that the quagmire exists, why would any reasonable leader want to waste a drop of blood or an ounce of treasure on such a hostile, hopeless cause?”

  Simmons paused for a moment, allowing his audience a chance to form its own answers before continuing. “As all of my fellow Texans are well aware, we are not the United States of America,” he continued with a touch of pride. “We do not subscribe to the Powell Doctrine that postulates the philosophy, ‘If you break it, you own it.’ That post-war ideology didn’t work before, and there’s no reason to believe it would work in the future,” he paused to give the audience a chance to refocus and absorb his message. “I have no intention of participating in nation building. We will not participate in a war recovery effort if our military intervention is required to protect our citizenry. Our exit strategy comes nowhere near establishing a local government or propping up the leadership de jour. Our mission will be simple, quick, straightforward and well defined. We will deny those that wish to kill our citizens the capability to do so.

  “With the approval of this governing body, as per the constitution of this great Republic, I will order our armed forces to enter the territory currently held by ISIS and obliterate three key categories of infrastructure.

  “First, we will completely demolish all petroleum producing and refining capabilities. This will deny our enemy a critical source of funding used to finance their terror machine. Secondly, we will completely annihilate all religious mosques and temples. The Muslim religion has been corrupted in that region and is now being used as a shield to protect the command and control of what amounts to a military institution. This validates such establishments as legitimate military targets. And finally, I will order our forces to destroy all civilian works. Assets that produce electricity will be leveled. All bridges, all roads and all sewage treatment facilities will be demolished. We will deny our enemy fresh water, the ability to mobilize, communicate, and govern. And then we will withdraw.”

  The president’s bluster initiated an audible murmur that circulated through both the elected officials and the gathered citizens. Some were sure Simmons had lost his mind, others nodding in appreciation of the clear-cut, total-warfare line of thinking.

  “ISIS wants to establish a caliphate. They strive to rule their people with a corrupted, questionably defined form of law that is over 700 years old. They’ve outlawed numerous aspects of the modern world, pushing their people back in time to an era of inhumane barbarism. With the approval of my fellow Texans, I intend to help them achieve those very goals. It is my stated strategy for our planes to bomb them back into the Stone Age, for our tanks and brave soldiers to roll across their caliphate until all who would stand before them are ground into dust, until no two pebbles are left standing. And then we will bounce the rubble. We will leave nothing behind that can be used against us. For those who say we will create a humanitarian crisis, I say there’s already one in place. The people of that region are suffering atrocities every single day. To those who will claim that an even worse monster will rise from the ashes we leave behind, I have to ask how it could possibly be worse. And if such evil raises its ugly head in the future, we will go back and repeat the same process until our message becomes clear.
”

  Again, Simmons switched to a softer tone. “We didn’t start this conflict. Texas didn’t fire the first shot. The possibility of ordering our best and brightest into harm’s way is the most difficult decision I, or any other leader can ever face. But I’m convinced that if we don’t destroy this snake, it will continue to grow and multiply, and more of our citizens will be killed as a result. God bless Texas… and all who live under her flag.”

  The national news networks remained on location until Simmons had disappeared from the podium. When the image finally switched back to the New York anchor, he appeared stunned, taking longer than normal to find words. “We’ve just heard from President Simmons of Texas, requesting a formal declaration of war from the new Republic’s governing bodies. We’ll go first to our political correspondent in Austin, Shelly Meyers. Shelly, did anyone anticipate this strong a reaction from the president?”

  Zach switched off the television and leaned back in his chair.

  “I’m not sure I would’ve been such a dedicated government servant if I’d known war was going to be the final result,” he remarked to the blank screen.

  And yet, he could understand the sentiment, the president’s statements striking a chord of pride deep within the Texan’s soul.

  An organization of hate had attacked his homeland. Evil men… an ocean, religion, and culture away, had tried to kill innocent people. They would have killed Sam and him… and so many more… were it not for fate’s benevolence.

  It wasn’t an isolated incident. There was no mistaken identity, zero misplaced blame. This same ruthless cult had been murdering, conquering, kidnapping, and torturing for nearly three years, disrupting the lives of millions of people.

  The world didn’t seem to have an answer. No one would – or could – take action. So why not Texas?

  Zach bent and reached for his boots, wondering how many would die if the Republic actually did go to war. How many funerals would he have to attend? Several of the rangers had sons or daughters in the military.