The Final Proclamation (An America Reborn Thriller Book 2)

by Carlton James

  Repeated calls by the DHS force leader to the Kentucky State Police for backup resulted in being told no one was available at that time. The National Guard was confined to their barracks, so they were not available. Four hours later, the DHS force drove away, leaving the two trucks with punctured tires where they were at the neighborhood entrance.

  Just after dark Linda arranged to have one of Sean’s security team operators out with the security team, along with his night vision goggles. The operator provided training for two of the shift security team on the NVGs’ operation and how to effectively patrol the perimeter of the neighborhood. He was pleasantly surprised to learn the security team had three night vision scopes available, but they were all either first or second generation and therefore less effective than his.

  At the community shelter, Mike had gathered the residents of the neighborhood to let everyone know what had happened and what they should expect. His talk was not of the rabble-rousing variety, but instead it focused on what everyone had built and how criminals were trying to take advantage of the emergency to steal from honest citizens. “Let no one here be deceived. Their sole purpose is to come into our homes and take what they want to give to someone else. They call it “redistribution,” and they don’t recognize your right to provide for your family, as it says in the Constitution. If we let them past the gates, they will steal and pillage anything of value they can find. They will ransack homes, one at a time, just hoping for an excuse to drag away anyone who resists. The State Police won’t help these thugs steal from us. Nor will the National Guard. Therefore, we shouldn’t let them do so either. Now that isn’t saying we are openly at war with these thugs or anyone. Let’s just say we’re preventing them from making a serious mistake, all the while protecting our individual ability to feed our own. Now, I know we don’t have power right now, but it’ll probably come back on and off for a while. Those with generators, please look out for your neighbors. Together, we can and we will get through this. What do you say? Will we get through this?” The group responded with a loud cheer.

  Linda wasn’t sure if it was the words Mike used, or just the way he said them, but virtually everyone in the crowd was nodding their heads and several were shouting out encouragement toward Mike, as he spoke. She had seen video tape of inspiring speakers like Martin Luther King, Jr., Ronald Reagan, and even President John F. Kennedy during his visit to Berlin, Germany on June 26, 1963. During that speech President Kennedy had said, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” thereby declaring to the world his solidarity with the West German people. This evening, watching Mike, was the first time she had personally witnessed someone with that caliber of personal charisma.

  Everyone departed the meeting feeling both uplifted and empowered. Even without electricity, they would protect their homes and families from all comers and get through the crisis. With Mike to lead them, they would not fail.

  . . .

  Special Forces A-Team 2

  Mountains of Southeastern Afghanistan

  2000 Hours Local Time

  Captain Schneider accompanied Julie, along with his intelligence Sergeant, to the chamber where the medic had stabilized Ali until he could be airlifted to a hospital in Kabul. Schneider softly asked Julie, “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said earnestly, “I want to help you identify and castrate each and every one of these devils. Can I borrow your knife? Just for a minute?”

  While shaking his head no, Schneider couldn’t help but admire Julie’s spunk.

  Walking into the chamber, Julie immediately focused on the man lying on a blanket with an I.V. drip going into his arm. “That’s him. He’s even worse than Mengele.” She then walked boldly over to the man, who looked up at her in a morphine haze. She took off the rubber glove from her hand and slapped him strongly across the face. “My name is Julie, you vermin.” Julie said this in English while looking into his startled eyes.

  Schneider was smiling as he grabbed her by both arms and pulled her away from him.

  “Captain, his name is Ali. I think he’s some kind of relative, maybe a brother to the boss in this camp named Ahmed, maybe the brother of Ahmed’s real bitch of a wife named Jasmine. God, how I hate that bitch. Ahmed used her to torture me into helping them. Oh, and I hope I just infected the swine. Too bad your men didn’t blow his balls off instead of his knees. Where did you guys find him?”

  Julie’s wandering questions were hard to follow, but after a moment’s thought the Captain said, “They found him in the lab and shot him when he threw two flasks at them. He then said they were all dead. Do you know what he meant?”

  “My guess is there were live germs in the flask and everyone in the room breathed them in. That means your men are going to die and you might as well kill this swine.” She paused for a moment before saying, “No, I mean you should make sure he lives for at least the next five days. It takes about a day and a half for symptoms to start showing, followed by two days of agony as he dies.”

  Looking at Ali across the room, and again in English said, “Heh, asshole! My hand is covered in the bugs you created, so your oozing ass is going to die!” With a big smile, she continued, “Remember, my name is Julie!”

  The Captain quickly dragged Julie out of the chamber as the medic and another operator worked to bring the enraged and struggling Ali under control. The Captain asked Julie, “Didn’t you wash your hand before being suited up?”

  “Only one of them. I made sure the other had blood and crud from one of the poor victims, just for an occasion like this.”

  . . .

  Special Forces A-Team 1

  Mountains of Southeastern Afghanistan

  2130 Hours Local Time

  Julie stumbled off the Blackhawk helicopter into the waiting arms of Captain Schneider. She was now completely encased in a S.C.A.L.P. suit with a filter mask covering everything but her eyes. Schneider led her to the opening of the cave complex, where he was met by the Team 1 Captain and his intelligence Sergeant. Everyone entered the cave complex while the Blackhawk shut down its engines.

  The Team I intelligence Sergeant asked Schneider, “So this is the amazing little lady you told us about, Cap?”

  Julie was in no mood to be ignored. “My name is Julie and I want you to cut the balls off of two people tonight. I’ll let you know who when I see them.” Two of the three men were clearly shocked by her statement.

  “Well then,” the intelligence Sergeant said, “let’s show you some of the terrorists and maybe you can help us sort them out.” He then led the small group into the first of four chambers. Lying on the floor was Ahmed, with a bandaged shoulder and his arms and feet secured by flex cuffs. The Team 2 Captain later chided himself for not anticipating and preventing Julie from walking quickly to Ahmed, removing her glove, and slapping him across the face.

  In Arabic, Julie said, “There, you swine, you now have the plague so you’ll be an oozing ball of puss when you die, too! And by the way, my name is Julie. Remember that on your way to hell.” The vehemence in her voice cut through even the horror Ahmed felt.

  Julie then looked at the soldiers and said, “This is Ahmed, the fanatic that runs this place. He doesn’t speak English and he has very little education, but everyone here is scared to death of him and seems to think he’s leading them to heaven.”

  When Julie walked into the next chamber, she identified Jasmine as the brains behind Ahmed. “She’s Ahmed’s wife and the one who said I should be taken. She then tortured me until I had to help train their martyrs. Watch her carefully, she’ll kill you if she can, and she is very, very clever, for one so stupid.”

  The next chamber held Ahmed’s older wife. “She knows nothing,” said Julie. “Ahmed only keeps her as a favor to his Imam.�
��

  In the last chamber a very young, teenage girl, who was very pregnant, sat crying. The operator guarding her told them she had not answered any questions and only cried. Julie walked to her, placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and softly asked in Arabic, “Who are you, little one?”

  At Julie’s touch and the sound of her voice, the girl raised her eyes and glared at Julie. “I am the third wife of the greatest man in the world. This child,” pointing to her stomach, “and my children will bring the true faith to the whole world!”

  Julie shook her head and said, “You are wrong little one. Your husband has only brought death to the world. Maybe even to you and your child. I hope you live to see all the evil he has done.” She then looked at the Captain and said in English, “There’s your answer. Ahmed’s third wife. They even corrupted someone as young as this. Truly Satan has taken them all.”

  Chapter 60

  The New Year - Plus Fifty Days

  Command Bunker

  Outside of Beijing, China

  1845 Hours Local Time

  Song sat at his desk in his bunker intently watching the large screen on the wall. On it was displayed a bird’s eye view of the PLA’s main Command Room located less than one hundred meters from his own Command bunker. Both were connected by a wide, well-lit tunnel through which dozens of golf cart-like electric vehicles whizzed back and forth along smooth, concrete floors. The screen displayed data, diagrams and photos depicting the PLA’s massive invasion of Formosa.

  The invasion had begun at 3:00 a.m. that morning, although Lao’s sources indicated the PLA had actually begun launching missiles toward the rebel island just after 2:00 a.m. local time. The EMP generators had struck on time at 3:00 a.m., immobilizing roughly 75 percent of the island’s high tech defenses. American supplied missile defenses had been mostly neutralized, however the island army shore defenses seemed to have an uncanny ability to shoot down missiles as they crossed the straight from the mainland. Intelligence was unsure whether this was due to operational radars or tremendous hand/eye coordination by the anti-missile defense gun batteries.

  After eight hours of massive missile and artillery barrages into the island, the rebels and their defensive systems continued to fight back. The air campaign had not gone well. Attempts to use the new EMP weapon against enemy aircraft had proven to be ineffectual. Flying older model American F-16 and F-14 fighter aircraft had turned out to be a benefit, as they all had older, hardened electronics that were less susceptible to the new EMP weapon. The island Air Force level of competency also proved to be far greater than anticipated, with over half of the invasion supporting PRC fighters and bombers having been shot down by enemy fighters. Attempts to bomb the hardened island military airfields had been mostly unsuccessful.

  Despite all of the setbacks, the PLA Army had launched an amphibious assault of the island from across the straight and from a flotilla of landing craft attacking from the ocean to the East. With very heavy casualties exceeding sixty percent, the PLA had established beachheads on both sides of the island and were prepared to expand them when PLA fighter aircraft could regain at least a reasonable amount of air superiority. Island ground support aircraft were making progress very difficult at both beachheads. The invasion was helped tremendously by sabotage by PRC agents working within the island infrastructure. Power was cut throughout the island within the first few minutes of the attack. Water lines and telecommunications, including some military communications, were disrupted across more than half of the island. Although on its highest level of alert, the island military did not appear to know when or where the attack would take place.

  Through coordination with Wong, Song managed to take two thirty minute catnaps throughout the day. For the most part, he did not interfere with the PLA General’s running of the attack. On two occasions only, he had contacted the Commanding General and made a suggestion. Each time the General had sounded as though he were considering whether it was a good one, before thanking Song and ordering the necessary changes. Song knew this pause was mostly a face-saving gesture on the part of the General, as Song was clearly the Chinese version of “Commander in Chief,” over the PLA.

  Despite very heavy losses, Song believed the rebel island forces would be breaking within the next forty-eight hours. Intelligence and Chen had both indicated the American President was keeping their military forces out of the area.

  . . .

  White House Situation Room

  0800 Hours EST

  Katherine paced the floor behind the busy staff working to develop a clear picture of what was happening in Taiwan. She had nothing to contribute and was there only at the suggestion of her Chief of Staff. After two hours, she ordered Secretary of Defense Hathaway to advise her if there were any major changes and to prepare a briefing for the staff at 10:00 a.m. She then stalked back to her office, almost totally numb. It had only been the day before yesterday when she had planted that stupid horn-dog of a husband in Arlington National Cemetery, during a nationally televised day of mourning. For some reason, it surprised her that she actually had trouble sleeping the night before the state funeral. His death effectively removed the club held over her head by the Chinese regarding those tapes. It had been a real plus that it was the Chinese-born maid that murdered him. Katherine had worked very hard to conceal her identity. All anyone could tell from the social media videos was that the woman in the back seat of Walter’s campaign limo was oriental. Well, let the Chinese worry the whore from Walter’s trysts had been the one to kill him. That should insure they’ll avoid using the damning video tapes.

  Although she was utterly exhausted, with a migraine threatening to split her head wide open, she didn’t think she could take a nap, even a short one. After checking with Susan to insure all of her appointments for the day had been canceled, she decided to at least lie on her couch and try to relax for a few minutes.

  Susan closed the door of Katherine’s office and rushed out to make excuses for the hundreds of politicians and dignitaries that demanded to speak with the President.

  Katherine walked into the conference room at 10:05 a.m. to find almost all of her Cabinet members present, along with their primary assistants. Burt had to coordinate and prioritize those in attendance, as there were far more in attendance than usual.

  Most Cabinet members had been avoiding the White House since Katherine declared the State of Emergency.

  Standing in front of the Presidential podium, Katherine looked out over everyone in the room before asking everyone to take their seats. It still gave her a minor thrill to see others standing, awaiting her commands. Susan had coordinated with Marc and his office to prepare a quick statement for her to make, before turning the floor over to SECDEF Hathaway.

  Without preamble, Katherine said, “I will get right to it. Secretary Hathaway will be providing a briefing on the current situation. Many in the lying press have said I am too afraid to live up to this country’s treaties with Taiwan and come to their aid. The fact of the matter is that the only treaty in effect is the Taiwan Relations Act (TRS) of 1979. Many don’t know that this Act followed this country’s decision to cut ties with Taiwan, abrogate the U.S.-Republic of China (Taiwan) Mutual Defense Treaty, and establish relations with the People’s Republic of China. Essentially, both my legal team and I believe we have no legal obligation to defend Taiwan and I will not spend a drop of American treasure to declare war on China.”

  Continuing, with an afterthought Katherine said, “Or American blood, either.” The muttering around the room followed, however no one wanted to incur the President’s wrath by openly commenting or questioning her decision.

  Marc Baxter had felt fortunate that Susan had prevailed on the President to order her Ambassador to the United Nations Ambassador to call an immediate Security Council
meeting. During this meeting the United States lodged a strong protest and attempted to condemn the PRC’s hostile actions. The condemnation failed when both the PRC and Russia failed to support it. Marc was inwardly revolted by Katherine’s failure to stand by the Taiwanese government in their time of crisis. He also knew every U.S. ally in the world was rethinking whether a possible alliance with China might be more reliable than the one they had with the United States.

  Turning to her Secretary of Defense, Katherine said, “Mr. Hathaway, please brief us on the current situation.”

  SECDEF Hathaway said, “Thank you, Madam President.” He then turned on a large screen viewer on the wall. “At just after 1:00 p.m. yesterday, Washington time, and 2:00 a.m. Beijing time, The People’s Republic of China began launching missiles at what they view as the rebel-held island of Formosa, which we know as Taiwan. No warning was given and this was an unprovoked, aggressive attack.”

  With a deep breath, Hathaway began to scroll through PowerPoint presentation, made up of several classified military maps and some photographs obtained from the world press. “Initial damage estimates indicate tremendous military and civilian deaths. We have no access to Taiwanese military or government information due to those channels of communication having been cut by Taiwan. This is presumably in response to our refusal to enter the battle. The President of Taiwan answered our request for information by this cryptic message: ‘No talk now, busy.” Much of our satellite imagery and other resources have been jammed by PRC installations along the East Coast of the PRC. Except for a few deep cover sources, with special communications equipment, we’re not able to get much more information than is available to the press, which is where many of these photographs came from.” The frustration dripped from Hathaway’s clipped, precise report.