“Well, that is quite some offer. What would that mean exactly? I would have to come over to the dark side?” she said and chuckled.
General MacMillan laughed with her, “Something like that. Obviously I would not want to strip all of the fleet from the United States Navy. It would leave them too vulnerable to attack from other nations. What I would propose is that we split the fleet as closely as possible. Right down to the smallest vessels. You would be the person who would make the selections,” he told her.
“That is an interesting proposal. You have talked this over with General Ascot?”
“Not yet. I just wanted to get your take on the proposal. I know Ascot says he will relinquish control of the country when you have an election but...”
“No, I think he really will. I don’t think he wants to take on the responsibility of running the entire nation. I think he will settle for something similar to what you have,” Jean told him.
“Look, all I ask is for you to give it some thought. Would you even consider such a position?”
“Let me have some time to think about it. It won’t be anytime soon I’m sure, but I will give it some real thought and get back to you,” she replied.
“Good. That’s all I can ask. You take care and I’ll check back with you at a later time.”
“Thanks for calling and you watch yourself as well,” she said as she hung up.
“Well?” President Jason asked.
“She seemed intrigued by the idea. Telling her that we would not strip the United States was a key element. I know Jean well enough to know that she would never leave the eastern and western seaboards unprotected. It would not be in our best interest either,” MacMillan told him.
“I couldn’t agree more. It would be a blessing to have someone like Jean taking charge of the Navy,” the President said.
CHAPTER THREE
KNOXVILLE, TN
The city was mostly in ruins. The most devastated area was, of course, the center of the city. The bombers had used I-40 as the targeting indicator and had dropped tons of munitions all along the Interstate. Virtually nothing was left standing all the way to the river.
People were still missing and the death toll was still rising. Other than Boston, it had the highest mortality rate during the entire Civil War.
Jamie Stattler had been in the hospital for three days and was about to go crazy. Hospitals, no matter what the reason for being there, had always made her squeamish. Even visiting someone she could only take an hour before she felt like the walls were closing in. When the nurse came in she quickly made her pitch.
“Nurse. I really need to get out of here.”
“I understand,” was all she said.
Understand what? Jamie thought.
“Look. I’m ready to get out of here. The city has thousands and thousands of wounded. Many are hurt way more than I am. Give my place to someone who really needs it,” Jamie argued.
“It isn’t up to me. The doctor is the only one who can release you.”
“But he hasn’t been here in two days. He doesn’t even know my condition right now.”
“He is busy. He has been going nonstop trying to take care of all of the injured.”
“Geez, don’t you get it? That is what I’m saying. I don’t need to be taking up space and having him to waste time on me. He has more important things to do,” Jamie said trying to reason with her.
“Sorry. You have to wait for the doctor,” was all she said and left.
Jamie turned her face to the wall and said, “You understand don’t you? Better than the nurse. I thought so.”
She decided it was time to just take matters into her own hands. She took out the IV, which was the easy part. Getting the tape off without removing the first layer of skin was the hard part. Using the walker, she made her way to the wardrobe and dressed.
It was not as easy as she thought, getting her pants on over the short leg cast. Using the knife she had when they brought her to the hospital, she slit the pants leg and the cast slipped right in. She put her weight on the foot and found that it going to be much more difficult than she first imagined. Pain shot up her leg and she immediately felt faint. She stood there for a few seconds until it passed.
She was going to have to use the walker if she was going to get out of there. She maneuvered over to the door and looked out. People were pretty much wall to wall but she decided that was good. No one would give her a second thought.
She opened the door and started down the hall. The hardest part was getting around people sitting on the floor and leaning against the walls. It was a struggle but finally she made it to the door without anyone asking questions. There were so many walking wounded that she blended in as just one more.
If it hadn’t been for the concussion she would probably not have been admitted in the first place. At least that was her reasoning.
Okay, now what? She thought. Where would she go and how would she get there? She looked around and realized that it was amazing that the hospital was still standing at all. One side looked like it had been partially collapsed but the front was relatively undamaged.
A soldier was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Excuse me. I’m with ARM. Do you have any idea where they are now?”
“Sorry. What is ARM?”
“American Revolutionary Militia.”
“Oh, those guys. The reserve headquarters is gone. If any were there I doubt many got out alive.”
“Do you know where the survivors might have gone?”
“Best guess. The other side of the river. A bunch of churches have been turned into temporary housing and medical care facilities. I think that would be your best bet.”
“How do I get across the river?”
“The only thing still standing is the old railroad bridge. All the rest have been knocked down. Look, I have a motorcycle. If you think you can hang on I can drop you over by Poplar Street. I might even be able to get you right up to the tracks. You would still have to walk and only you know if you can do that,” he told her.
“That would be super. By the way, I’m Jamie.”
“Ben. Ben Wheeler.”
“Okay Ben, I’m game if you are.”
“Then my chariot awaits,” he said and she hopped on the back of the motorcycle.
It was an old Yamaha YZ80 that had been dropped more than just a few times. Off they went, smoke trailing out the muffler. It might have been old and abused but it got them through some very rough areas where buildings had collapsed.
Her leg was already hurting by the time he got to a place where he could drop her off. She could see across the bridge and knew it was going to be a long hard walk.
She was just standing there looking across the river when a voice behind her said, “Need some help little lady?”
She froze, then turned around. There stood Crocker, head bandaged and a cast on his left arm. His eyes were black and he had a couple of stiches on his cheek but she had never seen a better sight.
“Aaron, Aaron. I can’t...How...I mean,” she stuttered.
“Nice to see you too. What’s with the hobbling? I thought you were tough as nails.
Maybe just to prove a point she threw herself into his arms. He pulled her to him and just held her for the longest time. He could hear her softly crying but it didn’t seem like a good time to say anything stupid.
“I thought you were dead,” she finally sobbed.
“I kind of thought the same thing. I went back to the house and sifted through the remains but didn’t find anything so I thought if anyone could have gotten out it would be you.”
“But...”
“I got knocked clear out of the house and into the one next door. I woke up just as our house went up in a ball of flames.”
“Aaron...Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
“Uh okay. I’ll try not to have a bomb dropped on my head anytime soon.”
“I still don’t understand.
Why were you here?” she asked.
“I figured that eventually you would try to get to the other side of the river. This is the only place to cross for a long way,” he rolled his shoulders, “Ergo, if you were going to go looking for me, this is where you would have to start.”
“Why did you think I would come looking for you,” she teased.
“Aww heck. I get the feeling you kind of like me.”
“Wrong Crocker. I love you.”
“Yeah. I kind of figured that,” he said and they both just stood there hugging in the middle of the train tracks.
CHAPTER FOUR
HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA CAPITAL
General Ascot was having his own problems. The ending of hostilities freed up soldiers and reserves to help with the general population but other issues were coming to the forefront. The most pressing being that the citizens were worried that the United States had become a military state. In some ways they were right. The military was in control of most aspects but a growing number thought it might become permanent.
“Did you read the papers this morning?” he asked as he came into the room.
“I saw it. Someone is trying to stir up trouble,” General Erickson replied.
Erickson had been sacked by President Quasim for not doing as directed. Ascot had immediately had him released and reinstated. He was now one of Ascot's advisors.
“Yeah, you can bet it was Senator Cromwell.”
“Dickerson as well,” added General Amblin who was more or less serving as an informal Vice President.
“Both hate the military so yeah, maybe a little of both of them,” Erickson said.
“Well, right now I couldn't give a rat’s patootie. Right now getting the dead buried and wounded taken care of is my main concern. They can yell as loud as they want about needing an election immediately. It isn’t going to happen until we finalize our peace talks with the American Republic.”
“Are we going to let them remain a Republic?” Erickson asked.
“I don’t know and I don’t care. That is for the new President to work out. One thing I will say, I have no intention of going to war again over this topic,” MacMillan told them.
“Can I release that as a statement?” Kendra Cox asked. She was the only one so far that MacMillan had let stay on. He was considering bringing Alice Dell, former Secretary of Labor, on board to help with the rebuilding and getting factories back up to operating capacity.
“No, let's hold off. No matter what we say, those two will turn it into a political statement,” Ascot said.
“What about reconvening Congress?” Erickson asked.
“I don’t honestly know. I guess it couldn’t hurt much but one thing we all have to keep in mind. We will not turn control over to another Quasim or Cole. When the time comes, the way elections are held will be different,” Ascot told them.
“Different how?”
“Stricter limitations on who can run for office for one. Placing controls on spending and raising money. We need a better method of accounting where the money comes from and goes to. Several other things as well. We had this war because of the way things were going. I don’t intend to perpetuate the same mistakes.”
“Then I would say you have another war coming. This time with the Senate and the House,” Cox said, shaking her head.
“Okay, enough about those issues. We need to get down to real business. We need to get kids back in school, our bombed cities rebuilt and our interstates back open. Not by the usual means of one man working and three watching either.”
“So you are going to take on the unions as well?” Erickson asked.
“They will do the work or we will get people who will. I don’t want to be a union buster but this is for the national good.”
“Then I suggest you call a meeting and have that conversation with all of the trade union heads. Otherwise you will be drowned in bickering and backstabbing,” Alice Dell interjected.
“That’s a good suggestion. Can you set that up? Get us all of the union heads, down to baggage handlers or whatever. We will hold three meetings. One here in Washington, one in New York and the other in Ohio.”
“Any specific dates?” she asked.
“The sooner the better.”
“David,” he said turning to Erickson, “I would like for you to meet with the Governors of the states that suffered the most damage and with the Mayors of those towns. Find out what they need from us. Let them know we are willing to help in any way we can.”
“Anything else I can do while I’m out running around?” Erickson asked.
“Give our soldiers a pep talk every chance you get.”
“Goes without saying.”
****
“I’m telling you. We have to get those yahoos out. We can’t have the military telling us what we can and can’t do,” Senator Cromwell raged.
“Yeah, easy to say but damned hard to do. It would be a little tough to just go over to the Pentagon and tell them they were out,” Governor Harrison said, much calmer.
“All I am saying is that the longer they are in power the harder it will be to get it away from them. Power is a very strong aphrodisiac.”
“You’re right but ranting and raving about it won’t do much good. We need to come up with a plan to force them to turn control back over to the Senate,” Harrison replied.
“Well, why haven’t I thought of that,” Cromwell said.
“Don’t be a smartass Howard.”
“Sorry. I just want to restore the natural order. Having the military in control is nothing short of a dictatorship and I for one don’t like it very much.”
“None of us do. Why don’t all of the Senators, Representatives, and Governors ask for a meeting with General Ascot.”
“And what? Tell him we think he might turn into a dictator?”
“Well Howard, maybe not quite that bluntly, but just let him know we have some concerns and would like to have an election as quickly as possible. We can sell it as helping heal the nation,” Governor Piers Harrison from Pennsylvania said.
“I guess it is worth a try. I mean what do we have to lose, especially if we go in mass. He will see that we are a united front,” Cromwell said, settling down a last.
“Why don’t you start on the Senators and House of Representatives and I’ll start getting the Governors all lined out,” Harrison told him.
“Yes, I like it,” Cromwell replied.
CHAPTER FIVE
KNOXVILLE, TN
Bruce Hubbard was more than disgruntled. His wife and three children had been killed when President Quasim had sent the bombers to destroy Knoxville. A fire was raging inside of him. Someone was going to pay for this stupidity. Killing soldiers was bad enough but innocent women and children was unforgivable.
Ever since he had buried them, he had been making plans. He was a long time hunter and could bring down a deer at four hundred yards without much problem. With his family murdered, it was time to extract some measure of revenge.
He knew this was probably the best time. The fighting had stopped but almost everyone had a pistol or rifle that they carried. The situation at the various borders was an unknown that he would have to deal with, but once he got to the United States territory he figured they would be disorganized just like the American Republic was.
He drove his old Jeep CJ-7 that he used to hunt with out to the edge of town. He sat up targets at two hundred, three hundred, and four hundred yards. He had decided to take his Accuracy International Surgeon Rifle .308 caliber with him. He eased into the prone position and lowered the legs on the Harris Bipod. He had settled in, adding his Nightforce NXS scope. He spent a few moments getting comfortable and everything just right. Flicking the safety off he placed the crosshairs on the center X of the two hundred target. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, gently squeezing the trigger. The rifle bucked back against his shoulder. The shot was less than a ½ inch from the top of the X. Dialing the scope in took patience
. He made minute adjustments to the scope, chambered another round and went through the routine again. The X all but disappeared.
By the time he had finished he was able to put all five rounds in the X circle at four hundred yards. He packed up his gear and climbed into the Jeep. He would just drive east and see what happened.
****
President Quasim and Vice President Hanna Cole were under house arrest at Tudor Place in Georgetown. Thirty-five police and National Guards were stationed around the grounds for two reasons. To ensure that Quasim and Cole stayed put and to make sure that no one tried to harm them. They had been whisked there in the dead of night and no one saw them as they were ushered in. It seemed like the perfect place to hold them.
Washington, being Washington, made keeping the location a secret for more than a few hours impossible. In the Capital if two people know about something, within hours everyone knows about it.
Cole had been the most vocal about being held as a ‘prisoner’ as she told everyone who would listen. Not many did. Finally, General MacMillan granted the former President and Vice President the freedom to go outside for a few hours as long as they did not go within fifty yards of the surrounding streets and at least six guards were escorting them and never let them out of their sight for even one minute.
While not happy, Cole considered it a victory and started immediately planning her next item to grumble about. She wanted to have a computer and internet service but so far, MacMillan had refused. She would just have to work on that next.
Quasim had fallen into a state of depression. He seldom spoke to anyone and didn’t want to be anywhere near Hanna Cole. He had even considered committing suicide but didn’t have the nerve to actually do it. While no one was too concerned, he was starting to look like a haggard old man. He seldom shaved and his hair was getting long.
A few of the guards had even made comments about his personal hygiene. Quasim didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he certainly didn’t care what they thought.
****
A NATION HEALING - BOOK III The Second Civil War (The Second Civil War - BOOK III 1) Page 2