by Ryan Garner
“These Texans with their insane devotion to their God, the old Constitution, and their guns need to be dealt with immediately.” he said. “Their belief in a literal interpretation of the former US Constitution is lunacy and would be laughable too, if it weren't so dangerous.” He added.
“You're absolutely right Pierce...” The somewhat muscular looking female co-anchor with short cropped brown hair and a perfectly pressed gray suit joined the tirade from her seated position next to Pierce Moran, the infamous English newscaster. The man once known for only interviewing famous celebrities in Britain and who had fled his country to the US several years ago after being the subject of an investigation by Scotland Yard for insider trading was treated with fawning respect.
“Thank you Raquel...” He said before continuing, “...and let me add that I can't believe we're still even talking about this. We've seen that the only places in this country that are having problems are the areas that are not fully embracing the new laws and policies of our admirable President Jordan and his executive council. Some people seem hell bent on continuing to cling to the ridiculous ideals of the extreme right and the obsolete and violent norms of the United States society of the past.”
Raquel nodded approvingly at Moran as he continued his analysis. “If you really think about it, George Washington and the founding fathers of America were quite a crazy and criminal bunch. They openly engaged in rebellious and what many would now consider terrorist activities against Britain. Their behavior was not unlike what certain people now attempt to blame the peaceful followers of the nonviolent religion of Islam of doing. American’s founding fathers slaughtered thousands of British troops in order to violently overthrow the government; after which they adopted an archaic and oppressive constitution that was designed to achieve gridlock and exploit minorities. That way only the most extremist of conservative views would be carried out. Making matters worse for a very long time they were praised as heroes in this country.”
“Yes exactly...” Raquel stated. “These homophobic, egotistical, greedy, capitalist, megalomaniacs violently took power, stealing the land from the peaceful Indian inhabitants and attempting to create a government based upon the medieval religion of the day. It was not until almost total economic collapse that we were finally able to begin to shake our way free of that system.”
“Yes, but now Lance Gabriel is attempting to drag his state and possibly even the entire country back to the days of the Civil War.” Moran snarled. “He's placing the citizens of his own state in jeopardy by deliberately separating Texas from the control of the federal government and I think James Bryan's idea to bring in UN troops was absolutely brilliant. This way it can be shown as an example to Governor Gabriel that the entire world backs the United States and President Jordan's actions. This will help prevent Gabriel's foolish actions from escalating into another possible civil war. With the humble and noble weight of the peace keeping United Nations emissaries pressuring Texas and its remaining government and people to turn against Gabriel and his fear mongers, I'm sure the state will once again be brought back to its rightful place within the union.”
“I couldn't agree more.” Raquel responded, “The horrifying thing is that we are receiving reports that certain groups in Texas consisting of both civilian and local governments are arming themselves heavily in preparation for a confrontation with the UN peacekeeping forces.”
“This is asinine!” Moran erupted.
Before John could hear any more from the self-absorbed newscaster there was a knock at his front door. He glanced over at the entrance to his apartment with a confused look. It was well after 10:00 pm. Who would be coming to his home so late?
With my luck it'll be Captain Davis with more IA investigators...Or maybe Jennifer with an NGP entry team looking for a late night raid...” John thought angrily to himself. Of course it could also be a homeless drug addict looking, or more precisely “planning” on spending the night in his apartment. John picked up the black Glock 22 .40 caliber semiautomatic handgun he had laid next to him and stood slowly. Even though the department had taken his duty weapon, like any good or prudent officer John had long ago legally purchased several personal firearms and plenty of ammunition for his personal protection. Few firearms dealers asked many questions once they learned that an individual was a sworn officer with a level II permit; especially seeing as how in order to ease spending concerns many police departments now forced their officers to pay for at least some of their own weapons.
John steadied himself against his couch after standing, the effects of the excessive alcohol immediately apparent to him.
Well, nearly half a bottle of Jack Daniels will do that to a person. He thought to himself. At least if it were Davis or Jennifer at his door John figured he was drunk enough to give them a piece of his mind without caring about what he had said for the next few hours.
He carefully staggered his way past his dinning and kitchen area and over to the front door. Keeping his gun down by his side and hiding it behind his right thigh he unlocked the deadbolt and slowly opened the door. What he saw shocked him.
…..
The inside of the heavily customized Chevy Express Cargo Van was dimly lit by LED's that had been temporarily switched to a red color and ran down both sides of the vehicle where the walls met the roof line. The interior of the vehicle had been modified and now held two fold out tables with keyboards and touch pads affixed to them along with several touch screen computer monitors positioned along the walls. Swing out stools that folded flat against the van's wall when they were not being used allowed two National Governing Police Officers to sit comfortably at their computer stations. Towards the rear of the van were two fold out benches, each one was tightly packed with heavily armed and masked NGP Officers. All of the officers wore their dark blue BDU field uniforms as well as thick, high caliber, bullet resistant entry vests and helmets that were also navy blue in color. The helmets were equipped with radio microphones and internal ear piece speakers. Fastened to the side of each one was a small digital camera.
A few of the NGP Officers had Colt M4 Carbine Rifles strapped to their chest via three point harnesses, while the others had Kriss Vector .45 caliber submachine guns. One NGP Officer held a Benelli M2 Tactical 12 gauge shotgun at the low ready. Loaded with custom ordered Maxstop IRP ammunition this officer’s weapon would be utilized as backup should the front door of their intended target's home be more secure than they had originally suspected. The shotgun would then be used to literally blow the door off its hinges in order to make entry. All of the officers also carried Colt 1911 .45 caliber handguns as a side arm.
“Both of their cell phones are transmitting from inside the apartment.” one of the NGP Officers who were sitting at the computer work station said. “We've activated them for passive listening, but so far we're not hearing much. Either they're both asleep or they're not in the rooms where their phones are.”
“Thank you Corporal.” Lieutenant Fearon stated with a slight nod. Both he and Jennifer Fields were seated close to the front of the van in rear facing seats located directly behind the front driver and passenger captain’s chairs. Dressed in a similar fashion to the rest of the NGP entry team, each wore full body armor and a helmet. However, Fearon carried only his Colt 1911 .45 caliber pistol on his drop down holster strapped to his right thigh. Jennifer also carried a 1911 strapped to her thigh, but in addition to this she was equipped with a Colt M4 rifle that was strapped to her chest. With her smaller than average frame all of the equipment she wore was almost too heavy for her and she subtly fidgeted trying to readjust her bullet resistant vest and her rifle. She wasn't about to allow the other officers to know that she was uncomfortable.
It won't be long now... she thought to herself as she attempted to repress her almost giddy smile.
….
“Karina?!” John said with obvious surprise in his voice after opening his front door. He very nearly did a double take to ensure that his eyes
weren't deceiving him. His doubt about her actual presence stemmed from an awareness of his own intoxication level. He momentarily questioned whether or not he had passed out on his couch and that this was some sort of dream or hallucination. He struggled against the urge to reach out and touch Karina just to make sure that it was really her standing in front of him.
“May I come in?” She asked with a slight bit of trepidation in her voice. For all she knew John's reaction might be to slam the door in her face. She wouldn't blame him if he did.
After a moment's pause John spoke, “Ye...yes of course you can.” he said with a slight bit of a stutter as he stepped back away from the door. When Karina stepped inside John could not resist reaching out with his hand and guiding her inside by placing his left hand on the small of her back. She did not need the assistance, but he just wanted to touch his friend. He was careful to keep his Glock 22 hidden behind his thigh. When he was afforded the chance he would return it to a more secure location.
Karina made her way into John's living room and then over to his couch where she sat down gracefully when she reached it. Glancing up at him she raised her eyebrows slightly as if asking him to join her. John immediately sat down on the opposite end of the couch carefully sliding his firearm under one of the throw pillows. It would be safe there for the time being.
There were several long seconds of painful silence as they both sat quietly, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Karina broke the silence.
“I heard about what happened.” she said in a solemn voice.
“Did you?” he responded.
“Yes.”
“Well, I suppose most people have heard by now.” John said with a mix of anger and sarcasm in his tone.
“I'm sure not everyone.” she said trying to help without actually accomplishing much. John shrugged his shoulders and several more seconds of awkward silence ticked by.
“Are...are you okay?” Karina asked in a sympathetic tone. John again shrugged his shoulders; the defeat that was etched across his face was more than apparent.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked, blindly searching for something to bring him back to her. There were so many questions in her mind that were still unanswered, yet she had no idea how to approach any of them.
This conversation felt even more awkward than the first conversation she and John had so many years ago when they first met. As uncomfortable as that one had been, it paled in comparison next to this one. Karina and John had still managed to form a tight friendship back then. Now she was frantically trying to find something to use to pull John back from the edge; an edge Karina felt she may very well have pushed him to.
“I'm not sure...” John replied before adding, “...jobs aren't the easiest things to come by these days.”
Karina let out a heartbroken sigh. “I wasn't talking about a job.” John looked over at her with bloodshot, glassy, and confused eyes. Silence once again crept into the room and Karina couldn't stand it anymore.
“What's going to happen with you…with us?” she asked and John paused briefly before responding.
“I don't know.” he said.
No longer able to handle the self-doubt, grief, and internal questions Karina finally asked the one question that had been eating away at her.
“John...” she said quietly drawing a long breath and bracing herself for the worst possible response.
“Was it because of me?” She finally asked.
….
The black Chevy Express Cargo Van and Suburban of the same color made a hard right turn and quickly pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. Striking the dip in the entrance way where the road met the parking lot it violently jolted the NGP team inside the van and SUV, however the heavy duty suspension of both vehicles was not affected any further by the impact.
Moving with deliberate purpose both vehicles glided quietly through the dark parking area and past the immobile vehicles occupying the lot. Should the suspected domestic terrorist try to escape in one of those parked cars the Suburban was equipped with a mobile ElectroMagnetic Pulse generator. It had the power to disable every vehicle within a one block radius; all vehicles except the NGP ones of course. This device, along with several others, was hidden within a raised black dome attached to the top of the Suburban.
Moving past apartment building after apartment building the National Governing Police units made their way to their target area. When they had finally reached it the back doors of both the Chevy van and the Suburban flew open and a dozen NGP Officers poured out.
Creating a “stack” formation the men wearing dark blue NGP field uniforms and heavy entry vests moved with their weapons at the ready past the two waiting vehicles and along the front of the apartment building.
Jennifer and Lieutenant Fearon watched the live video feeds of the helmet cameras from the relative safety of the van. The green filtered night vision view was similar to that of a first person shooter video game, however the computer operator had the ability to switch between numerous different viewing spectrums including: InfraRed, starlight, thermal, FLIR, digital night vision, and normal camera viewing. For the time being all of the cameras were switched to InfraRed. The officers did not believe that these particular suspects were monitoring the IR spectrum and therefore the higher intensity below visibility light could be used.
Moving slowly and as quietly as possible up the creaking wooden stairs of the apartment building the heavily armed team of large, muscular men stealthily made their way towards the doorway of their targeted apartment. Each male was an intimidating figure to be seen; all were prior Special Forces and had been handpicked by Lieutenant Fearon himself. Their tactical gear made them appear even bigger and more imposing. When they had reached the doorway the group split into two teams of six and lined up on opposite sides of the entrance to the apartment.
The lead NGP Officer who was positioned on the left side of the door holding a Kriss Vector submachine gun in his hands reached up with his left hand to the upper left portion of his bullet resistant vest and touched a button on a small black box with two wires attached to it from the top and bottom.
“Alpha team ready...” he whispered quietly. There was a momentary pause on the radio before the other team leader spoke.
“Bravo team ready...” There were a few seconds of silence on the radio before Lieutenant Fearon's voice came over the digitally encrypted radio channel.
“Bravo and Alpha team, you are cleared to proceed.” he said in a cold and emotionless voice.
“Breaching now...” The Alpha Team leader stated.
Moving from the rear position of Alpha Team a hulking NGP Officer with a tactical shotgun slung over his shoulder moved quickly up the line towards the door. He tightly gripped the handles of a large black metal battering ram with both of his hands. Upon reaching the door he heaved the heavy, fifty pound cylindrical tube back and with all his force slung it back towards the front door of the apartment.
….
She was trying not to cry, she didn't want to show that kind of emotion, not to anyone. Karina bit down on her bottom lip nearly hard enough to draw blood so as to distract herself from the impact of hearing John's answer. She couldn't understand why on earth he would have done it. They were close friends yes, and that might have explained why he allowed his discovery of her at the Occupy Congress rally to go unreported, but this was so far beyond merely omitting information about her. John had just destroyed the most important thing in his life for her.
It had been several minutes since either had said anything after John answered her question. The only sound that was left inside the apartment was that of the air conditioning. Had it not been running there would have been a completely inescapable silence.
“Why...why would you do that?” Karina finally managed to say in a scratchy voice, fighting past the sore and what felt like swollen throat.
John hesitated. He wasn't quite sure exactly how he should respond to her quest
ion. He struggled in his mind for a few seconds before finally managing to give a response.
“Because I didn't want my best friend disappearing into the haze that is NGP controlled federal detention.” he said not able to hide some of the anger and sadness behind his tone.
“I've seen...” John paused briefly, “...a lot of officers have seen people detained by the NGP. They're held under the guise of being involved in conduct contrary to the interests of the nation or are investigated as possibly contributing to or being involved with domestic terrorism or something similar to that. There have been times when people have been held for months or even years without charges before being released. There have been other times when we never hear anything about certain people ever again.” John took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing.
“I couldn't let that happen to you; especially not with Jennifer possibly behind all this.”
Karina's head and eyes jerked up. “Jennifer's involved with all this?!” she asked in a shocked and angry voice.
“I'm pretty sure she had something to do with it.” John said. “She was there at my investigation.”
Karina felt her heart sink even lower. Adding Jennifer into the mix only furthered the emotional turmoil she was experiencing. She sat for a moment thinking about what John had just said, but then suddenly she let out a slight chuckle; albeit a humorless one.