by Ryan Garner
Along with the Black Hawk Helicopters resting on the landing pad, there were a number of black NGP Tahoes parked at various locations around the encampment. Mixed in with those vehicles were black Humvees, all fitted with Common Remotely Operated Weapons Stations, or “CROWS” for short. These remote controlled turret systems with their large glass camera “eyes” that could see in virtually every visual spectrum were all equipped with M2 .50 caliber machine guns. The Humvees had been picked to carry the new National Governing Police TALOS units (Tactical Assault Light Operator Suit). Finishing out the armada were four M1126 armored infantry carrier vehicles.
Towards the southwest the shipyard’s office now functioned as the NGP command and control center. Lieutenant Kent Fearon dressed in his usual dress uniform and Officer Jennifer Fields who wore her more tactical NGP field uniform stepped out of the main entrance on the second floor. They could both see the numerous NGP Officers moving about the area quickly making things ready for the upcoming battle.
“Everything is in place.” Fearon stated to Jennifer as they stood just outside the doorway; he enjoyed taking in sights such as these. The speed and efficiency of the NGP was always unparalleled.
“Our units will be arriving in Emporia shortly and will await your signal. The team assured me they would be able to intercept your convoy on I-95 just before it reaches the city limits, but be prepared for anything should the situation change or if Mr. Siegal decides to take a different route to Richmond.”
“Yes, sir.” Jennifer said nodding her head.
“Provided everything goes as planned you should then transport the package to a designated point within Emporia’s city limits and activate it. We’ll have a Black Hawk waiting to evac you out of the area immediately afterwards.”
Jennifer again nodded her head before speaking. “And what about Mr. Siegal and his associates?”
Fearon’s eyes narrowed, “Arrest Mr. Siegal if possible…” he hesitated momentarily before continuing, “…killing him…is just as acceptable.”
“Yes sir.”
“The intercept team will eliminate the rest of his companions for you.” Fearon added.
Jennifer again happily shook her head in agreement. She was glad to undertake this mission. With Darren Siegal out of the way and John Lawrence a broken and defeated man she was certain nothing would stop her from finally obtaining the absolute control over Karina that she always wanted.
“You should go.” Fearon stated. “You don’t want to be late for your meeting.”
“Yes sir.” Jennifer responded as she began to walk down the exterior stairs of the main office building, headed towards an awaiting NGP Tahoe.
“Officer Fields…” Fearon called out and Jennifer turned to face him. “We are growing close to the end of our mission and I believe that Mr. Siegal may already suspect betrayal and be planning his own unique course of action. Remember what I told you about him. If he gives you any indication of treachery, eliminate him immediately. While the information dispersal and ensuing reports about the situation will not be as solid as we would like, we can still create a convincing narrative for the media should it become necessary.”
“Of course sir, I will be extremely cautious.” Fearon nodded his head in response as Jennifer turned and trotted down the stairs being sure to allow her hips to accentuate her curves as she moved. She hoped Fearon was watching her walk away.
….
Even though night had fallen the busy intersection of South College Road and Oleander Drive was still packed with frightened civilians trying to get home or to escape the city and their embattled neighborhoods. Events over the last twelve hours had caused temporary gridlock and traffic jams at many large roadway crossings. It was taking people hours to get where they were trying to be. Some had even resorted to abandoning their vehicles in the roadway in an attempt to walk to their destinations; this caused even more traffic problems. Also, with the recent outbreak of riots and gangs of violent thugs roaming the city these decisions had the potential for deadly consequences.
Along with the numerous vehicles waiting in all the travel lanes at this intersection there were several groups of people milling about on the street corners and sidewalks. Most of the groups consisted largely of young men, but there were also some females and older adults mixed in with these rapidly growing crowds as well. The different groups stood around seemingly oblivious to the chaos that had befallen their city. Most seemed more interested in entertaining themselves with their government provided smartphones.
Then suddenly it happened. In a matter of seconds the numerous loitering individuals that had all been standing around rushed out into the roadway. This had the effect of exacerbating the snarled traffic situation even further. Rioters were soon breaking out car windows and forcefully dragging people from their vehicles. Some in the malevolent crowd chose only to steal the now idling cars or rob victims of their belongings at weapon’s point. Others were more ruthless, forcing drivers and their passengers out of vehicles and beating them mercilessly; it made no difference if the victims were young, old, male, female, or even if they were children. It was as if a hungry pack of wolves had suddenly descended upon a herd of defenseless sheep.
Unbeknownst to the trapped and helpless vehicle occupants, less than an hour earlier a large scale social media message had been sent out by an unknown individual summoning everyone to the intersection of Oleander Drive and South College Road. A “flash mob” had formed and uncontrolled violence now raged.
….
John and Chris had been driving for about thirty minutes after leaving John’s apartment. Trying to avoid as many main thoroughfares as they could and using Chris’s police radio to avoid known trouble spots they were attempting to stick to secondary roads to speed their travels. At times, however the primary roads were unavoidable. John had already seen several National Guard vehicles cruising about along with some NGP vehicles. Both groups would undoubtedly be deploying shortly. That might at least help to quell some of the worst violence, but until then chaos reigned and Karina was stuck in the middle of all of it.
Certain portions of the city that they had traveled through were now completely without power or utility services. John suspected the uncontrollable mobs had turned some of their destructive fury on power lines, relay stations, and water pumps and piping in their own misguided attempt to fight against “the system;” even if the damage harmed their own neighborhoods. Group think had set in and there was no reasoning with savage crowds of this size. Without power these blacked out sections of the city were eerily dark. John couldn’t imagine how long it would take to repair all of this destruction, if such a task were even undertaken.
What happened to this city, to society…to America? Is all that’s left of this once great land just one massive, angry, self-absorbed mob? John thought to himself.
Suddenly, he was forced to bring his F-150 to a screeching halt along Oleander Drive.
“What the hell?” Chris said from the passenger seat. John was too shocked to respond. The intersection that lay several hundred yards in front of them was in complete chaos. There were burning cars, vehicles were being overturned and, as they watched in horror, rioters dragged helpless victims from their vehicles and violently assaulted them. Those that could escape the gridlock were attempting to do so, but the traffic was so congested that many remained trapped in the anarchy unable to flee. Leaving their vehicles meant they would be forced to confront the ferocious crowd, but their cars offered only a temporary place of safety. Glass windows did little to guard against the ferocious hordes hell bent on destruction and assault.
John and Chris both searched the area for some sign of police, National Guard, or NGP presence; there was none. Vehicles that could escape were quickly driving past them in the opposite direction attempting to flee the bloodshed. Their vehicle sat in the now thinning traffic, idling quietly as they stared at the abominable scene. It felt as if seconds took an eternity to pass for both office
rs as they watched helplessly while victims were accosted before their very eyes. Unable to stand the atrocities that were playing out before him any longer John finally spoke.
“We…have to do something.” He said as he shifted the truck into park.
“Yeah…” Chris responded still in something akin to a state of shock as he stared straight ahead at the carnage that was unfolding before them.
“But what?” he then asked.
John hesitated for a brief moment weighing his now very limited options. He could do nothing, go around this particular intersection and leave these poor hapless souls to their cruel and painful fate. No longer a sworn officer this would be what he was “supposed” to do, what his former department and its command staff expected him to do, what the government “wanted” him to do. John ground his teeth at this vile thought.
After a few more seconds spent watching the barbaric scene play out before him, he came to the only possible conclusion that he could. He reached into the passenger seat behind him and recovered his rifle. Chris snapped out of his stupor the moment he saw the AR-15 clone move past him. John opened the driver’s side door and stepped out of his truck.
Chris followed suit, opening the rear passenger side door of the F-150 after exiting the vehicle and retrieving his department issued Smith and Wesson M&P15x rifle. Like John’s Stag Arms Model 15, the M&P15x was also a clone of the famous AR-15 design. By the time he had his weapon John was already climbing into the bed of his truck to give himself a higher vantage point. Chris scrambled to keep up with his friend; using the rear tire as a step to leap into the back of the pickup as well. The two men stared at each other for a brief moment.
“If we do this…there’s no going back.” John said in a solemn tone. There was a momentary pause and both men could hear the desperate screams of victims as they were brutally assailed. Chris did not audibly reply, instead he pulled back on the charging handle of his rifle. Chambering a live round was his response. John followed suit.
Over the years John had made a number of additions to his rifle. A rail mounted flashlight, extended charging handle, bipod, forend grip, Trijicon TX30 fiber optic sight, Magpul Battery Assist Device lever, and pop-up sights, along with a Vortex 3x flip to the side magnifier. Moving the bipod legs to the downward position he placed the rifle on the roof of his truck and began to aim. Even though it was nighttime the intersection itself had not yet been stripped of its power and high intensity lighting lit the chaotic scene; picking targets would be difficult, but not impossible at this range.
“Going left…” John said.
“Going right.” Chris replied as he rested his elbow on the roof of John’s truck propping up his rifle for a better firing position and increased accuracy.
….
Darnell Morris moved quickly through the rows of stopped cars searching for his next target. Both of his wrists still had the locked shackles of the handcuffs around them, but they were no longer joined together anymore. He had thankfully been able to find an understanding compatriot with access to bolt cutters. The steel around his wrists had been too strong and too close to his body to cut, but the linked chain that held the cuffs together had been easier to sever. Once these civil demonstrations were over he would have to find someone with a key to take off these handcuffs that, that pig of an officer had put on him.
Darnell smirked. He was so glad that when those two police officers had tried to arrest him and his uncle the crowd had come to their aid and rescued them from “the man.” However, he never would have dreamed that those actions would have brought the city together with such unity as he now saw. Finally, the exploited masses would exact their revenge against their oppressors and take what was rightfully owed to them.
Darnell looked around and took in the entire scene. It had been about twenty minutes earlier that he had received a notification on his government provided smartphone from his favorite social media site about this, “flash gathering.” He was glad that he had been close enough to the area to make it here in time even after he had downed his second forty ounce bottle of Mad Dog 20/20. Darnell had stolen the drinks from a convenience store that was in the process of being looted by dozens of people, but he surmised those stores would never miss a few more bottles of liquor that he and his “boys” had taken. After all, those businesses made enough money and they all had insurance so it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone.
Darnell fed off the energy and ferocity of the crowd that was surging around him. It was a palpable and exciting sensation; combined with the effects of the alcohol, he felt almost invincible among this large mass of people. Nothing in this world could stop what was happening here and no one would be able to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. This day had been a long time coming for him and his “people.”
He watched as those that were able to do so “liberated” vehicles from their greedy owners who had been trapped in a traffic jam created by their own fear. It was unfortunate, but due to the congestion, not all of the cars could be taken. In those cases Darnell was glad to see the “civil protesters” reallocate the belongings of the trapped people. Those that offered any resistance...well they got exactly what they deserved and he felt no sympathy for them whatsoever.
Scanning the area he chose his next victim. A silver Chrysler Town & Country that was trapped amongst the gridlocked cars. There was a female, apparently Native American who looked to be about 40 years old cowering behind the wheel. She had a panicked expression on her face and was frantically searching the area in all directions, presumably for an escape route. Darnell was overjoyed to see that she was obviously terrified about the situation that was unfolding around her. It was a titillating sensation for him. This attractive woman probably belonged to some rich Republican snob that had never appreciated her. He’d show her what a real man was like; Darnell drunkenly determined that he must have her before he did anything else. She might be scared at first, but she’d probably thank him afterwards. He marched over towards her trapped vehicle.
….
Megan Eagle desperately searched the area around her for any avenue of escape for her and her terrified four year old daughter, Elise, who was sitting in the passenger area behind her. To her horror she saw none. Rioters mixed with victims were running all around her minivan and the vehicle was being jostled from side to side. She couldn’t go anywhere; she was a prisoner of the situation. Just seconds earlier she had tried to call 911, but she had received a busy signal. So much chaos was occurring within the city that the emergency communication lines must have been jammed. But, what was she to do? With cars stopped in front, behind, and beside her she couldn’t drive anywhere and her van was not strong enough to push its way through the mass of people and cars. Leaving the vehicle with her young daughter was far too risky. Perhaps they could hide in the minivan and no one would notice them? Megan unbuckled her seatbelt and began to move to the rear of her vehicle. She would get her daughter and they would hide in the back of the van as well as they could.
Suddenly, there was an explosive sound and her driver’s side window was smashed out. Megan felt someone grab her by the back of her jeans and begin to drag her out of the vehicle. She screamed in fear and so did Elise who immediately began to cry as her mother was pulled away from her.
“No!!” Megan yelled as she tried to grab onto the two front seats of the van desperately attempting to keep herself inside the safety of the car, but whoever had hold of her was far too strong. She was violently jerked back to the driver’s side. A second hand grabbed her blouse and she felt herself being pulled through the broken window of her vehicle. Whoever was dragging her from the car wasn’t concerned with trying to do it gently. Once she was yanked out of the smashed window Megan was dropped to the hard asphalt roadway. Pain streaked through her body as she struck the hard surface.
“Let me go! Please!” She shrieked in fear as her long black hair was violently grabbed and she was dragged several feet away from her van and her child. Peo
ple were still running all around her, but to her despair no one stopped to help her. Finally, Megan was able to identify her attacker. He was a young male in his early twenties, reeking of alcohol, and with a broken set of handcuffs around his wrists. This sight instilled even more fear into her, was he an escaped convict? Had the rioters stormed the county jail and set all the criminals free?
Megan tried to fight back against Darnell, but he was more than able to overpower her even in his drunken state. Again she cried out for someone to help her as he pinned her to the ground and again no one answered her pleas for help.
….
John scanned the intersection through the non-magnified lens of his Trijicon sight. The roadway was relatively well lit, but picking out an appropriate target when attackers were mixed with victims made the situation far more strenuous. The incredible anxiety he was feeling about the actions he was about to take complicated things even further. He could feel his heart pounding within his chest and his hands were beginning to tremble. Had the front end of his rifle not been resting solidly on a bipod he knew his sight picture would have been even more distorted. He took a slow deep breath trying to calm himself.
People scrambled everywhere within the intersection and it was difficult to distinguish the offenders from the victims. Anytime he focused in on a particular target the person would move out of his line of sight and he would have to start his search all over again; it was incredibly frustrating. Then suddenly he saw it; there was a man on top of a woman. From his vantage point it appeared as if the female victim had just been pulled out of one of the vehicles that surrounded her. It was obvious she was struggling and the man was trying to overcome her resistance.
Then John saw the man quickly draw his fist back and bring it down hard onto the woman’s face. The immediately aggressive action was so brutal and shocking that John almost flinched when he witnessed it. Another blow followed shortly after the first. If the man kept this up he was going to seriously injure or kill the woman. John tried to focus on the male attacker, but they were struggling against each other so much it would make taking a shot difficult.