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One by one the group disconnected from the well-hidden board to get on with their days.
The young man known as
One last message and he'd go as deep and silent as he could until this all ended.
27/09/2047 09:00
"Sarah, I heard the transition and Central Park takeover last night was bloodless and fast. We're in and the marines have returned to their base. Congratulations on getting our people up north that quickly and efficiently. Are they in place and ready for the next phase?" asked Gwinnett.
"We're ready at your command. Do you still want to be Ops Officer on this? I'd love to do it if you need to distance yourself from it," said Sarah.
Gwinnett grinned, looked around the darkened room and the walls covered in screens showing different views of the city. CCTV camera feeds and satellite shots were mixed and technicians burrowed into their screens flickering fingers and soft word commands to troops and AI systems alike.
"I'll run it. I'm down in the War Room, and the techs you sent have tied our two command and control networks together. Plus, with the two-year extension there's no reason to hide out in D.C. while you guys are having all the fun. It won't hurt in the heartland to be seen as having pacified the city so I'll command and have the press office make that clear. I want to send a message to both the gangs and the militias out west if they screw around, they'll be hurt. And I'm getting official bitch-reports from every damn country who used to have a satellite. Some of them are nasty threats so this is the answer I'm sending back. The entire cleanup is about to be broadcast live with full feeds sent to all vid channels. We should be able to make everybody take a step back in another few hours," said Gwinnett.
Gwinnett smiled as he finished. Giving that small speech out loud felt good. Ah yes, the truth will set you free he thought. The truth was he was about to take full control of the United States and set the country on a proper course. He knew there would be those who'd disagree with his methods and there'd be a toll on groups and individuals. But the paralysis of the past thirty years was now officially over. It was time this country got itself fixed. Gwinnett knew he couldn't foresee the eventual shape the country would take but he sure as hell knew which direction it needed to go right now. And that was ensuring the system worked for everybody; not just gangs with big guns. He smiled because now he had the biggest guns and was about to use them. The ultimate irony of this passed him by.
"Systems operational, views of the city and gang headquarters on screen, Sir," announced the lead tech Colonel.
Gwinnett turned from screen to screen that presented different parts of the West and East Side gang areas. The butterflies that had threatened earlier now disappeared as the battle was beginning.
"Identify those buildings containing armed individuals. Outline weapons counts and abilities," said Gwinnett.
"Commanders on the ground, this is President Gwinnett assuming operational control. Flash me an acknowledgement and tie your teams into this broadcast."
Gwinnett looked over at the Sergeant running his communications panels, who, five-seconds later, gave him a thumbs-up, "All acknowledged, Sir."
"Gentlemen, this is President Gwinnett, you are about to pacify the two largest gangs in the United States. Your orders are simple and I want this to be clear. Our lasers will take out the heavy weapons and as many personnel as we can find. But there will be any number of objects that may be used against you. We can't yet scan or identify all individuals, potential weapons or IED's, and that's why you're doing a house-to-house search of these neighborhoods. You are authorized to meet any armed resistance with lethal force. I hope this will not be necessary but protect yourselves against these criminals."
Gwinnett knew this would be part of the official record and decided he'd release it to the media as soon as the fight ended. He was under no illusion both gangs would fight back with everything they could pick up and this would result in major casualties to them when QuellCorp responded in kind.
His troopers were armored, trained and experienced in house-to-house urban warfare, but the lasers should eliminate most of the resistance before they got there.
Gwinnett stood. Walked to the command monitor camera so the Colonel could see him in his heads-up display.
"Colonel, include any gang member wearing any battle armor in your laser kill command," Gwinnett said. "Keep count of how many of those we take out for the vid briefings afterwards. The fact the gangs are armored will add to our story." He took a deep breath. Held it for two seconds. Exhaled softly.
"Proceed. Go. Go. Go." Gwinnett's voice rose with each successive "Go."
Gwinnett still appeared calm and under control but his heart rate spiked as sudden flares of light erupted all over the screens. The fight had started on his command and while the laser beams themselves were invisible, their effect was not. When that much energy connected with something flammable, fire was inevitable.
"Sarah, do we have heavy machinery in place to create fire breaks around our target zones?" asked Gwinnett.
"Yes, Sir. They are just outside the battle zone." A screen now showed the lines of bulldozers for clearing debris. Each was a heavy weapon itself and running on full drone-control, they were impervious to small-arms fire. They'd carve pathways through any urban area on the planet. Sarah continued, "Ready on your command, Sir."
"Acknowledged," said Gwinnett.
"Colonel, confirm we are feeding to the public streams," said Gwinnett.
"Confirmed. Vid feed active and being distributed across all public vid channels preempting all regular programming. Ratings are very high and rising. It would make a good television series if you do it often enough, Sir. People seem to like watching real violence." He paused and then added softly, "And real death."
The computer recorded it, and the laser A.I. saved the thought.
Gwinnett watched the fires gain strength as the satellite found new targets. The swath of visible damage was far wider than he had expected and this, too, was
another good sign the lasers and their AI interface were performing as intended. The laser-AI saw more weapons than any of their other software had identified, including data from the regular reconnaissance satellites. Hopefully enough of their tech team survived to tell us how they fooled the main systems, he thought. We need to tie the AI into our reconnaissance satellites to eliminate this disparity, he noted in his personal battle records.
Five minutes later, Gwinnett heard, "Mr. President, all known weapons are destroyed, Sir."
"Colonel, Sarah, Commanders, let's take a breath here. I think it's a good idea to alter our plans as it may save a few lives, both ours and theirs. Commanders, hold for my next order but remain on this channel," ordered Gwinnett.
Gwinnett decided giving the survivors a chance to surrender would be better politics than engaging the next weapons strike. Giving opponents the option to surrender was the ideal American way to fight and would appeal to voters. Crap, I'm becoming a politician. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Who knows? He banished this train of thought with a head shake and opened a channel to his tech officer.
"Colonel, cut into the feed and broadcast me to the nation. Set it up and give me the count. Do it now," ordered Gwinnett. He saw the Colonel nod his head, acknowledging the order.
A few seconds later, the Colonel swiveled his chair, and pointed at him.
Gwinnett paused and then said, "My fellow Americans and people around the world. You've seen how effective our lasers are at finding and destroying weapons. We presumed anybody wearing body armor was a gang member with intent to harm our troops. Those people are dead. All weapons are destroyed and most gang members dead. We believe Mr. Robinson Taylor and other leaders of the gang are dead.
However, some members have survived, and we have them identified. Troops will arrest them next. We don't want to harm innocent civilians so we ask you to stay indoors and in your apartment. If our troopers come in, do what they tell you to do and do it immediately. Do not resist them or you will be arrested.
If you resist with a weapon of any kind, you will be killed. Surviving gang members, you are encouraged to come out of your hiding spot with your hands held well above your head. You will not be killed if you do this.
The fire teams entering the zone will control the fires generated by our weapons. Unfortunately, this means we'll knock buildings down around the blaze to stop the fire from spreading. If a trooper arrives at your door and tells you to get out on the street, do so as fast as possible because your building will be demolished. You will be taken to a public shelter until accommodation can be arranged.
Thank you for your attention. My objective as soon as this cancer has been removed is to help the city get back to health and vitality. Indeed, my objective is to do the same for the rest of the country. May God Bless America."
Gwinnett stared into the camera for a few seconds after the broadcast light went out and wondered how that would play in the heartland until Sarah interrupted his reverie.
"Nice speech, Mr. President. Now what?"
Gwinnett laughed, Sarah always could bring him back to reality. Where he was a dreamer, Sarah was a pure pragmatist to the core. Show her the dream and she'd get you there, but she wasn't the big thinker and dreamer. Gwinnett smiled at the thought Sarah was more like her mother than himself. Charlotte always got her way no matter the damn goal.
"Commanders on the ground, wait ten minutes and then cleanse those buildings as per original plan. All surviving gang members to be detained if they surrender. Otherwise eliminate them. Run the plan, gentlemen," said Gwinnett.
The ten minutes passed slowly for all concerned. Gwinnett sat, leaned back and stared at the various screens and considered how he'd use these weapons. How far he'd really push them. Anyone who controlled this much firepower could impose his will on anything or anybody in the world and this sense of power was a heady feeling. And a dangerous one, he decided. This was a lot of power to place in a single person's hands even if they were his hands. He mentally filed that away to consider at some future date.
The death count rose even as survivors filled the streets as they fled ahead of his troops. Most hadn't believed he would send his troopers into the buildings and they only abandoned their homes when the troops entered. The clouds of smoke from collapsing buildings in the fire-control zones obscured camera visuals, and these were replaced with infra-red, solid-penetration or heat-sensitive views. These, too, showed people running down the streets ahead of the heavy machinery and even showed a few who chose to die in their apartments.
"Sarah, have you identified the gang tech teams?"
"Yes, Sir, we have nineteen of them in custody now and only two or three are missing," said Sarah.
"Excellent." Gwinnett smiled. There were a few good young hackers in that group and he had work for all of them if they could earn his trust. He had a few ideas about how they might do that and he'd fill Sarah in on them shortly.
The screens continued to update data on the evacuation and cleansing of the city and it became apparent this was now a mechanical process and success was assured. There was only one injured trooper, and this was more than acceptable. The lasers had proven their worth, and this too meant QuellCorp would require fewer troops once they controlled every aspect of the national security system.
"Sarah, take over please. I have other things to accomplish today now we've sorted out this city crap."
29/09/2047 08:00
Ed Gordon walked the still-smoking streets after the assault. Guided by one of the very few surviving gang members, the two of them snuck in through the underground basement runs. Even those hiding in the basement during the assault had died because the satellites used ground-penetrating radar for targeting. But with the troops now withdrawn, survivors used the basements as an underground highway if for no other reason than they seemed safer than exposure to those hell-machines in space. The basements reeked of smoke and death and the lack of ventilation meant everyone using this route covered their noses and mouths with wet cloths in a futile attempt to control the smells.
Ed thought it was good the cloths weren't white and then wondered where that random thought had come from. He smiled. That had to be his momma talking.
A gang member led him up a damaged staircase to the second-floor apartment of one of Ro's surviving tech team. There were no holes in the ceiling and he wondered why and how this young man survived when many others hadn't. Ed took a good look at him and decided although he wore gang colors, he couldn't be more than fourteen or fifteen - at most. The colors weren't marked as blooded so he was still an associated member and this might account for his survival. Maybe Gwinnett was feeling generous when he ordered the programming. Ed doubted that, made a mental note to check further with other sources, and decided to ask the kid what he thought.
First though, he launched the drones, activated his video feeds, and heard his producer say, "You're live." and began his interview.
"So why are you still one of the few gang members alive?"
"They didn't hit any of the tech team. We're all still alive," said Antoine.
"Why's that do you think?" asked Ed.
Antoine looked back at Ed like he was crazy for asking such a stupid question.
Ed quickly added, "Just for the record you understand because there may be folks who don't understand." Ed watched as the kid's eyes blanked out, his face relaxed for a quarter-second and then came back to life.
"Nah, you don't understand either. I'm tech. They need me to run tech for them. If they didn't, my team and I would be dead. They're looking for me and will be coming to pick me up soon. And they'll offer me a shit storm of money to work for them because Ro's probably dead. I may have to think about it."
Ed watched as the older gang member tensed up and bristled at the suggestion of leaving the gang but before he could say anything Antoine spoke quickly, "Relax Jerome. I'm not leaving willingly and I'm taking you with me for protection. Ro's down and gone and so are the others.
If he's not, it's only a matter of time before they catch him. You're likely the only non-tech alive and I don't know how they missed you. We're all leaving together. Right?"
Ed was pleased he was broadcasting live and knew without a doubt QuellCorp was tracing the origin of his upload. He decided when QuellCorp came, they'd all be safe because the kid was probably right about being a valuable commodity. He'd get to broadcast the arrest or detention or whatever Gwinnett was calling it now.
"Do you think you'd be able to intercept or control those lasers?" Ed wasn't sure how much time he had left so went right for the important questions without warming up the kid.
"We tried. Not too hard but we tried. Couldn't do it but I have an idea that just came to me. If you can give me a keyboard and uplink, I may be able to set things different."
Ed smiled at the admission of failure. And he started to frame the next question when the apartment door smashed open and four QuellCorp troops stormed into the small living room screaming, "Down, down, down" at an incredible sound level. Ed realized the voices were electronically augmented and increased for effect but he never moved.
Frozen in place, he trusted his drone cameras to record and the identifying antenna to stop the QuellCorp troops from shooting him. But just in case they didn't he yelled "Press, press, press."
It was obvious the troops knew who he was because three of them barely glanced at him. The fourth positioned himself squarely between Ed and the other two. The trooper was a massive man, dwarfing Ed, so he couldn't see anything but knew the drones were broadcasting.
Crap, he thought. Those damn satellites not only identified him but told the troops he was without a weapon and harmless.
2047: Hell In A Handbasket Page 23