The Hasten the Day Trilogy

by Billy Roper

  And three, I can guarantee to double your salary and give you the virtually unlimited

  resources and power of our new nation, here. Now, I understand we have some things to

  work out, but I know we can get past them and work together for the greater good of…”

  This time, she interrupted him.

  “Oh, shut up, you arrogant MAN. You had me at ‘unlimited resources’.” They

  laughed together, and it felt easy and light.

  She gave the Post Dispatch notice of her resignation, but promised them favored

  access. A week later, they visited his pastor for a private ceremony witnessed by Kip and

  his bodyguards. The next day Carolyn had moved in, sharing the fourth floor suite with

  John. She gave her first press conference the following Monday at the Old Courthouse.

  She formally introduced herself as Carolyn McKenzie-McNabb, Press Secretary to the

  office of the Chairman of the New American Congress.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "There is a race war against whites. But our people - my white brothers and sisters - will stay committed to a non-violent resolution. That resolution must consist of solidarity in white communities around the world. The hatred for our children and their future is growing and is being fueled every single day. Stay firm in your convictions. Keep loving your heritage and keep witnessing to others that there is a better way than a war torn, violent, wicked, socialist, new world order. That way is the Christian way - law and order

  - love of family - love of nation. These are the principles of western Christian civilization. There is a war to destroy these things. Pray that our people see the error of their ways and regain a sense of loyalty.” -Pastor Thomas Robb

  To Chase A Feather In The Wind

  Gerta was really getting sick and tired of her sister-inlaws’ constant whining and complaining, and the kid running wild without discipline. That was probably why she was happy to get the call from the Ambassador to the U.N.’s office. It was an unofficial position, of course, as there were no formal diplomatic relations between Germany and New America, but they were going to be opening a Consular Office in St. Louis. She had the experience in North America, had a good resume’, and had proven herself loyal to the Ambassador. Would she like for him to put a word in with the Chancellor on her behalf? They also were negotiating opening offices in Salt Lake City and Killeen, Texas, so she wouldn’t be the only German Consul out there. She was packed and putting Bavaria behind her again before dinner.

  The Tides Have Caused The Flame To Dim

  Nearly 10,000 God-fearing evangelical Christians crowded standing-room-only into the Ford Arena in Beaumont to hear Pastor Huckleberry deliver his weekly sermon. Many more watched from home on satellite television, if they had it, or from corner Telecast Centers set up on every block in the city. The former Governor had adapted a special blend of inclusive, race-neutral liberation theology that carved a niche for himself here on the border between La Republica del Norte and the socalled ‘Republic of Texas’. That was his main selling point: Protestant Fundamentalism, color-blind.

  His army of true believers, known as “The Faithful”, kept an eye on the entrances and exits, as well as on the crowd itself. The racist, divisive “Christian Identity” denomination was becoming the dominant dogma in most churches up North, in the areas where Whites had completed ethnic cleansing operations. Some more open-minded churches, like the one implicated in the attempted assassination of that Indiana Congressman, had been shut down, driven out of their communities, or even, as in that specific case, arrested. Several members alleged to have helped build the bomb had been hung. Such a backlash against diversity loving churches and the men of God who pushed them had left a vacuum. Pastor Ike filled that vacuum as a shepherd for the mixed race families who had nowhere to turn to bask in God’s love. That left him as the biggest and best and last show in town for the “Jesus Loves Everybody” guilters. He wore it well. His sermon would be simulcast in Spanish, with an interpreter on stage. The mixed nature of the crowd, about 50/50 Mexican and American, were what caused the worry of his security people. You never knew when the Republica would decide to make a push to take his little pocket of the Coast. He had to be ready. Any of them could be terrorists or saboteurs. He strolled to the microphone, waved to the masses, and yelled “Hello! Hola!”, as the choir sang behind him a sweet rendition of ‘Kumbaya’.

  “Praise the Lord, How many of you have enjoyed the Praise Music here tonight? Hallelujah! If you’ve really been blessed, let me hear an Amen! Amen! Ya’ll know, a lot of people just south of us want this whole country for their own, and want to kick out the light skinned folks, and a bunch of other people just north and west of us, they want this whole country for their own, and want to kick out the brown skinned folks, but I’m here to tell you that this is God’s country, Amen, He made all the different people, praise Jesus, and he made it all for all of them to share in His love, Glory! Red and yellow, black and White, they are all precious in His sight, Jesus loves who? Jesus loves which of them? Hallelujah, Jesus loves ALL of the little children of the world!

  Now, before the altar call for volunteers to join the Faithful and help carry the word of the Lord to the unbelievers beyond our borders, I want you all to join me in praying for Mr. Bellefont over there in Fort Hood, this evening. Oh, he was a sinful man, a man of lust, a man of greed, a man of power, and when he first came back to Texas, he became a man of more power. You see, most of the good-hearted, God-fearing, patriotic folks thought he was the President, and so they did what he told them to. All the brave military soldiers got behind him from all branches, hoping to save their country. But he fooled them , he sure did. Praise the Lord. Old Bellefont wasn’t the President at all, he never was. And as soon as he got set up, and the military behind him, me and others were wondering if he was going to choose the righteous path, the narrow path of God’s love and compassion and understanding, or if he was going to refuse to turn from his wicked ways, and choose the broad and easy way, the path of sinners. Well, you all know what he did. He raised up a false idol, a new Babylon, a golden calf false nation he calls “The Republic of Texas”, just because he says so. He turned his back on the United States, and then when the rest of the government died in New York, there wasn’t anybody left to question him, or call him a liar, or stand in his way. Nobody except God. Nobody except Jesus. Nobody except the Holy Ghost. And we, his Faithful, his sheep, his flock, his church. We will pray for Mr. Bellefont. We will ask the Lord to convict him to repentance, but if he does not repent and turn from his wicked ways, then we will know that he is the one foretold. The one spoken of in Revelations, brothers and sisters! The prophecied! You know the one I mean. The one who was grievously wounded but survived, the one who came preaching peace, meaning only to destroy, the one known as the Anti-Christ! If that is who he is, then we will know him by his fruits!...”

  Over a hundred new volunteers to join The Faithful came forward for the altar call. After being interviewed, trained briefly, and armed, they would join the forces of light patrolling the I10 No Man’s Land border area. Rev. Ike was thinking of pushing northeast to Lake Charles. The New African chaos was much more promising than butting heads with either the Republica or the Republic, with or without the vowel. His saber-rattling against Fort Hood was necessary to keep the flock loyal. The truth be told, though, the 3rd armored cavalry regiment bogging down the Mexican Army in the northern suburbs of Austin kept the Aztlan Reconquistadore Catholics out of Beaumont.

  On the previous week’s program he had torn into the Mormons much more v iciously, since they were too far away to do anything about it. He had said “The self-appointed Prophet Rammell, the leader of the Deseret Mormon cult, said yesterday during a flyover inspection of artillery that was abandoned by the Republica del Norte Aztlan Reconquistadores when they surrendered Barstow to LDS Crusader forces two weeks ago that ‘The smoke from the Sodom that was Las Vegas still
rises after God's divine retribution on that city courtesy of two holy atomic fists from Hill. As His servants we shall continue to serve as instruments of His will against any city which is held by the Aztlan invaders within our reach, and let me tell you, the Lord's reach knows no bounds!’ Well, let me tell YOU, Mr. Prophet, you and your cult are not without sin, you are not God’s judge and jury. You are liars and misleaders teaching from a fake book.

  Now he wants to try to represent Christianity to the world! In an interview with the BBC last night in Salt Lake City the official Council of Fifty spokesman refused to speculate on whether McCarran would be used to send out LDS Air Force strikes against Aztlan held San Diego or the ruins of Los Angeles, next. He did self-righteously indicate, though, that the armor and artillery gained through the capitulation would be used to strengthen their campaign into California Del Norte…

  I don’t think the Latino people are buying it, though, Mr. Prophet. Not after you deported and murdered so many of them. The Mexican ambassador to the U.N. warned the General Assembly last week that further territorial advancement of Deseret would inevitably lead to conflict with Mexican interests in the region. This follows several weeks of relative detente during which there has been no direct conflict between Deseret and the Mexican administrative authority while the LDS provided air support to New American forces during the Battle of Fort Collins. See how the secular New World Order is coming together, there? The Mexicans have accused Mormon sympathizers in the mysterious explosion which sank a packed container ship entering San Diego harbor loaded with Mexican troops on leave from the San Jose front, six days ago. Noone so far has claimed responsibility for the attack, but we all know what kind of cult was involved, don’t we brothers and sisters? Yes, we do! Praise the Lord, Hallelujah!...”

  The right Reverend Huckleberry sat in the dark playing his guitar, trying to picture the look on Rammell’s face when he had heard that broadcast, or on Bellefont’s when he heard this week’s. He lived for that stuff, stirring people up, pushing buttons, getting a reaction. Most people were so shallow, so petty, so dramatic, that they were easy to play. Ike took another hit of the purple haired bud the Mexicans had brought up with their last shipment. As long as he had The Faithful and the U.S. Army’s 842nd Transportation Battalion to keep the Port Arthur to Beaumont port open and free trade flowing in, he could build his empire right in the middle of the chaos. It was a lucky thing one of his congregation had told him about the 842nd commander’s fetish for young Mexican boys. Keeping that particular taste and offering absolution for it, had been key. His deal with the Mexican Mafia kept the drugs coming in and the Mexican navy out, from the ocean side, just like Bellefont did the Mexican army from the landward side. Yeah, it was good to be a lord, when the Lord was King. No king but Jesus, no voice of the Lord but Ike’s. Hallelujah. He definitely liked his version of religion better than what they were doing in New America, these days.

  All My Exes Live In Texas

  President Bellefont moved his coffee cup off the folded over newspaper and wiped away the wet ring. Since Dallas’s little fling with city-statehood had been crushed, the ‘Morning News’ was his favorite newspaper, once again. Of course now, he got it about once a week, instead of every morning, but that was probably more bad news than was good for his heart. Not all of it was grim, this time. “French President Le Pen praised ongoing cooperation between New America and the Republic of Quebec during her speech the night before last in Montreal, marking the first visit to North America by a European head of state since Civil War Two began.” Civil War Two? Who had started calling…it…THAT? Yikes, he would have to contact the militia commander running the Dallas Fort-Worth metroplex for him like his own personal neo-feudal fiefdom, and have him slap some sense into that editor.

  Those North American folks were a big bear, though. He had to handle that delicately. They could be friends, or enemies, depending on how he played it. He would send an envoy to that jumped-up half-bird Colonel running things in St. Louis, and try to smooth things out before they got cross. The Major General might know someone who would be ideal for the job. Heck, maybe even open diplomatic relations. Can’t be fighting on two fronts, now. Cross-border incursions by renegade redskins were bad enough, up in Oklahoma.

  Texas was a huge state, and the northern half of it under his control was bigger than many European countries. He did have a few thorns in his side, like that tinhorn Biblethumping charlatan over on the coast, but they had stopped the Mexicans cold, and even better, had pushed most all of the pre-war Mexican-American population south, behind the front lines, with them. THAT sure had changed things in the Lone Star State.

  Plenty of people had sworn that he was loco when he declared the Republic of Texas in session and himself acting President. Even Hampton had dared to public ask him if ‘the timing was right’ for that kind of move. Oh, ye of little faith. He could have established a Provisional Government of the United States in Texas. He could have declared himself the head honcho of the whole enchilada, according to the regular order of succession. The SAFE move would have been to take the Oath of Office with the first Federal judge he could find, and declare himself acting President of the United States. Or, he could have called it President Pro Tem, and tried to gather the little lost sheep unto himself. Heck, he had been listening to Huckleberry’s b.s. sermons for too long, to start thinking in those terms. But, he knew what he meant. Yeah, that would have been the safe move, but he remembered Julius Caesar, and had decided not to make the safe move. He could have tried to be President of the U.S. and hold together the whole shebang, but he just didn’t see any future in it. Too many sides, too many divisions, too much damage done. Even the authority of calling himself POTUS was mooted by the impotency of the office. So, he had thrown that crown away. But Texas…Texas was something worth saving. That was his rationalization for declaring independence, anyway.

  It seemed like a good idea at the time. When all of his rivals and contenders for the Executive office died in the big apple, he knew that he had made the right choice. Only divine providence could have led him out of New York, like Moses being led out of the land of Egypt, to save his people. He was right where he was supposed to be. The timing had been perfect, too. He couldn’t have planned it better, himself. Just when some of the officers had begun talking about resigning their commissions or removing him, BOOM! There was no higher power left for them to appeal to. General Hampton’s support had helped keep most of the career soldiers in line, the ones who others followed.

  But here he was, on top of the world, the wife and kids were safe and happy, and his 4th Infantry Division had just pushed the Mexicans, of all ages and genders and national origin, out of Johnson City, and were pushing east towards Oak Hill, in the suburbs of Austin. Most of their casualties as they rolled the greasers back came from car bombs and I.E.D.’s, not direct combat. That had changed, as the brown tide receded. And now the Germans wanted to establish a Consulate in Killeen. Not too close to the front, but right up on the nerve center of things. He liked how those Krauts worked. The French and Quebecois and Brits, too, were looking to recognize his Republic of Texas in exchange for beef and petroleum. Well, cows and oil were two thing he had a lot of to spend. He bet the upstart North Italians and Basques would be writing any day, too.

  It was already getting hot in southern Texas, warmer than Perry remembered for April. Maybe all of the rock and dirt and smoke thrown up into the atmosphere by the hundredodd nuclear blasts had changed the environment, at least temporarily. All the experts had predicted a ‘nuclear winter’. The opposite seemed to be true, unless this was a fluke.

  Even in Texas, many small towns had been divided by the presence of mixed race families and especially mixed children, often being raised by tired White grandparents who were stuck with the kids their daughters dumped off on them after getting knocked up in college by some black football player, as a stereotypical story went. Then the whole community would be split, pro and con. In the
end, most were exiled, or their supporters drove out those opposed, but either way the communities chose sides over them. A lot of people ended up on one side or another that they had never consciously planned on being on, if they had ever planned on taking a side at all.

  In the past, such social divisions had often been resolved by the faith community and the counsel of Pastors, but the modern universalist churches more often than not were the agitators for social change, rather than the preservers of social order. Most leaders of the millionaire megachurches promoted multiracialism in order to widen their cash flow. As America had unraveled, they had appealed for calm and love and for peace. Rev. Joey Ovalsteen had just delivered a feelgood ‘Candyman’ sermon calling for his parishioners to support the new amnesty bill when a group of Mexican youths drug him out of the car in which he and his El Salvadoran boyfriend had been holding a private prayer session. They raped him in the street, then yanked his head back by his hair and cut his throat from ear to ear while they finished, as a warning against homosexuals in their neighborhood. Apparently the irony of the act escaped them, on more levels than one.

  The ranks of the televangelists were further thinned when the DayStar Network and Pastor John Hatchee demanded their followers join them in Norfolk in a new Crusade to go fight for Israel, and save the Jewish people from a second Holocaust. Hatchee died of a heart attack during his first day at sea. His followers turned back from their Crusade, and most became fervent followers of Rev. Ike Huckleberry, the former Governor. That’s how he had become such a pain in the neck for Perry.

  Benny Himm had faith-healed his way onto a first class flight to India, where he had converted to Hinduism before so many of that country’s holy shrines melted in nuclear fire. Jerry Lee Cary had overdosed and died on camera, praying with a black former prostitute. No wonder the Identity movement was picking up speed as people became disgusted with the liberal Christianity.