Shin Ho raised his eyebrows and sat up. “All right, all right. I’ll agree to your plan and sign off on it. Anything to stop these losses. Just make sure that the attacking force heading for California maintains the timetable, eh?” He shuffled some papers on his desk, found the appropriate order and signed it with a flourish. “Take this and be gone. I will smooth things over with the Supreme Leader.”
“You won’t regret this, old friend.”
Shin Ho looked at him oddly. It wasn’t anger, or even jealousy—after all, he was merely signing off on the plan. The real genius behind the whole operation had been Po Sin—and everyone knew it, even the Supreme Leader. What was it about his friend’s look that he found so unsettling then? Po Sin tamped down a flicker of unease that struggled to life in the dark corners of his mind. He was putting everything—his reputation, his career, perhaps even his life—on the line for this invasion…
“See that I don’t, friend,” said Shin Ho.
ROB STARED AT THE men coming through the main entrance to the Regulator compound. He glanced at the guards on either side of the heavy timber gate. The two locals looked decidedly uneasy.
He stepped up and met them with as warm a smile as he could muster, trying to put the memories of the last meeting with locals in the back of his mind. He blocked the memory of that hysterical woman screaming that it had been the Regulator’s fault the Chinese had wiped out Pine Bluff. The crib…
Rob forced himself to focus on his visitors. The man on the left looked surly. He was covered in sweat and grime and appeared to have dearly missed his normal sleep for a few days. His companion looked to be suffering a similar state of personal hygiene, but at least had the decency to come across as polite.
It was to the man on the right that Rob spoke to first. “Welcome to our little…outpost,” he said looking around. “I guess that word describes it best.”
The man on the left spoke first. “My name’s Milton Birch.” He glared at the gathering onlookers, as if defying them to challenge him. “So this is the great secret hideout of the Regulators. You boys done a lotta damage down below, you know that? Lotta people dead because of you—”
“Ah, what my friend here his trying to say,” said the man on the right with a calming hand on Birch’s arm. “Is that we’ve been sent by the good folks of what is left of Pine Bluff to try and talk you all into surrendering to the—”
“The hell we will!” said George Franks. His brother, Ed, never far from George’s side, spat on the ground as his answer.
“We lost our homes because of the Chinese, too,” Lance said in a quiet voice.
“Well I lost my family. Them Chinks kill yours for what you been doin’ up here in the woods, playin’ at Rambo? Did they?” said Birch through clenched teeth. The chords in his neck were taut and the man looked ready to attack Lance. His eyes filled with moisture and he suddenly looked away, sniffing hard and scrubbing at his face.
“Look, Milt and I aren’t here to lay blame at anyone’s feet,” said the man on the right, his hands spread wide. “We’re here to ask.” He glanced at his partner. “Nicely.”
Rob hooked his thumbs behind his belt buckle and rocked back a bit on his heels. He was fighting the wave of disgust that was rising in his stomach. The very sight of these two quislings made him want to break something.
“Well,” said the second man, looking around with darting eyes. Rob could see beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead. “At least shut down your little…ah, operation, here, and move on…that’s all we ask. We just want you to leave.”
Rob shot a glance at Lance. “I checked ‘em myself. No wiretaps.”
“There,” said Birch as he pointed at Lance. “You see? We come in peace, in all sincerity to ask you—”
“What you ask is for us to get down on our knees and wait for the Red Chinese to come up this mountain and slit our throats,” said Rob.
“Damn straight!” shouted George Franks. Lance turned and waved him off.
“No, sir, no one’s suggesting that—”
“What you ask,” Rob said again, in a low, quiet voice, “is that we surrender. You want us to give up and just hand ourselves over to the invading army from China.” Rob raised his eyebrow. “You want us to quit and lead ourselves to the slaughter, be good little quislings like you and hope and pray our new masters don’t slaughter the rest of you out of spite.”
The man’s face reddened. “Now look, I never—”
Rob plowed ahead, talking right over the indignant local. “You want us to take all the sacrifices, the blood lost, the lives cut short—not only by my men, but by every man and woman who’s ever worn the uniform of these United States going back to the mother-loving Revolution itself—you want us to piss on their graves, burn the flag, give Lady Liberty the finger, and wait to die as slaves. That’s about the gist of it, right…friend?”
“You’re putting words into—”
“Shut your fucking mouth right now before I shoot you myself, you goddamn coward,” growled Rob. He took two long strides forward and pressed his face into the local’s. The man shrank back and seemed to physically grow smaller beneath Rob’s barely contained fury. “You people down there, in Pine Bluff, you’ve suffered. Ain’t no one gonna tell you otherwise around here. We’ve seen what those slant-eyed bastards did, and let me tell you, it makes me sick to my stomach to think that they’re trying to use you against us.”
“That’s right, you talk the big talk, Mister,” said Birch. “I don’t think you had to watch your family burnt alive in your own home, did you?”
Rob turned to look at the shorter man. “No, thank God, I didn’t. But I wouldn’t blame the only Americans for a thousand miles that are trying to stop the sonsabitches, either,” retorted Rob with equal vehemence.
Birch opened his mouth to answer, paused, looked like a fish out of water for a moment and shut it again. He glared at the floor and said nothing. Rob turned back to the other local.
“What’s your name?”
“Roger. Roger Hallwood.”
“You sound like a reasonable man, Roger,” said Rob. He took a step back and held his breath a moment too long in order to get control of his anger. He was on thin ice. The locals could choose to sell out the Regulators at any time. And Rob didn’t figure they’d last long in an all-out siege. No, he had to sweet talk these men into giving them time to prove the worth of the Cause. He had to win them back to the right side of the issue.
Hallwood puffed his chest slightly. “I like to think I am. Most folks agree.”
“Then reason with me,” Rob said. He held his hand out, gesturing that the two take a walk. “I think better outside. I’ve always felt cooped up in a building.”
Hallwood nodded and after a reassuring look toward Birch, he followed Rob outside.
“There, that’s better,” said Rob, closing his eyes in the dappled sunlight trickling through the alpine canopy. He took a deep breath and savored the smells of fresh cut pines, the stale mountain soil, and the nearby campfires where Regulator families were beginning to prepare suppers. “This land is America—”
“No one’s denying that, no sir.”
Rob nodded. “And this country has been invaded exactly one time—other than now. Do you know why no one besides Britain has ever tried in the last two hundred years or so?”
“Because we are—well, we were—the most power nation on the planet,” replied Hallwood.
“Yes,” said Rob with a look of appreciation for his guest. “Because the world was afraid of what they’d find should they try and invade. Have you heard about the hell breaking loose back east?”
Hallwood shook his head. “We’d heard a little bit before the town lost power completely—something about the United Nations sending peacekeepers to the big cities…and fighting in Chicago. Real fighting. With tanks.”
Rob led Hallwood over towards one of the redoubts, a little downslope from the main HQ. “Yup. The rebels, this Brotherhood,
they pretty much own the cities now—with the help of their European friends. They’re spreading out—like a virus. You know what else is going on though? We got a decent HAM setup here, so we’ve been hearing the news—word is, there’s people all over the country rising up to stop the U.N. jackboots.”
Hallwood said nothing.
“They knocked us down, almost out. I’ll give ‘em that. But we’re Americans. We don’t give up. Not easily, not ever. But that’s not what the world sees—thanks to Hollywood and the liberals that have been running this country into the toilet for decades now—the world see Americans as weak, ignorant, pathetic, whining, and lazy. They think we’ll just roll over and say ‘Thank you sir, may I have another?’. That’s not the America I know. The America I know is still tough as iron and twice as stubborn. I know deep down, you feel the same way. I can see it in your eyes.” Rob stopped at the redoubt and crossed his arms, taking in the wide vista.
Hallwood whistled. Rob didn’t know if it was in response to his speech or to the view. “Well, you got a way with words, friend. In better times, I’d agree with you, no doubt about it. But fancy words and patriotic speeches don’t change the fact that the Chinese destroyed my town and damn near killed a third the people in it. They’re gonna come back, and it’s because of you. And I’m sorry, but there’s nothing that you can say that will change our minds on telling the Chinese right where you are.”
Rob slowly turned to face the traitor.
“And don’t think we didn’t plan ahead. We know where your little fortress is,” Hallwood said quickly, taking a step back. “If you kill me—”
“Christ man, why would I kill you? You’re just a weasely little traitor. Not worth the ammo.” Rob sighed and turned back toward the HQ. He began walking, ignoring the protests from Hallwood.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should give up, move on…try and start over somewhere deeper in the mountains…away from towns, away from… He stopped in the cleared area of the compound and frowned. Damn it all…if we stay, they’ll sell us out and the Chinese will just blow us right off the mountain. If we leave, they’ll probably sell us out anyway and we’ll be chased by the Chinese wherever we go. We’ve killed too many of them to just forgive and forget…
“—get you at some point, you know!” Hallwood was still talking. “You can’t win…”
Rob looked at Hallwood. “Say we leave,” he began. The look of hope that washed over the local’s face was almost comical. “What then?”
“Why,” said Hallwood, he walked quickly up to Rob with a renewed vigor in his step. “The Chinese would let you leave in peace. They told us they’d give you safe passage to wherever you wished to go as long as you swore not to raise arms against them ever again.” Hallwood looked around. In a lower voice he said, “Look. I can understand your reluctance. You’ve got quite the reputation…but stop kidding yourselves. You don’t have the manpower to take on the Chinese. They’ve got an army…”
“One,” crackled Rob’s radio. “Got a vehicle comin’ up.”
He almost ignored it, but something told to Rob hold up a hand for silence. He keyed his own radio. “Friendly?”
“SUV marked Border Patrol. Green and white. RAF-1 stopped ‘em downslope. Says they’re legit. Want to talk with you.”
“All right, send ‘em up.” He turned to Hallwood. “I don’t know, Roger. I just don’t know anymore.”
Rob stopped listening to the excuses, the warnings, the pleadings from the quisling. He stood there nodding absently, waiting for his new visitors to drive up the mountain.
In a few moments, a dust covered SUV rolled to a stop, tires popping and crunching on the gravel. As the dust cloud dissipated around the green and white vehicle, four doors opened and Border Patrol Agents stepped out. They were in full-up tactical gear. Weapons came up and they scanned around.
Rob excused himself from Hallwood and approached with a hand up. “Welcome, gentlemen. I assure you, those weapons aren’t needed here.”
The leader stepped away from the front passenger door and lowered his M4. “Stand down,” he called over his shoulder. The others followed suit. He walked a few paces up to Rob. “Names Doug Levine. I’m the Supervisory Agent in Charge of the Nogales Station survivors. I’m looking for a Rob Gunn?”
“You’ve found him.”
“Well it’s about time. We’ve been tracking you guys for weeks.” The man exhaled. “You’re a hard bunch of men to find.”
Rob grinned and shook the Agent’s hand. “Well, if we were easy to find, the Chinese would probably have killed us by now.”
It was the agents turn to grin. “Heard about the trouble you’ve been causing our visitors…” The man’s grin died. “We were only able to find this place because the people down there in Pine Bluff—”
“What’s left of it, you mean,” said Hallwood bitterly. “I’m Roger Hallwood, officer, and I’m trying to convince these men to give up their delusions and turn themselves over to the Chinese—or at least to leave this area.”
Rob ignored the civilian. “Mr. Levine, if you’re here to try and get us to surrender, too—”
“Mr. Gunn, on the contrary, I’m here to join you.”
Rob thought his face would split, his smile was so wide. He fought the urge to hug the agent. “You and your men are most welcome. Just the four of you, then?”
Hallwood’s mouth hung open.
“Oh, hell no,” said Levine, smiling. “We’re just the scouting party. I have 57 agents and officers, two helos, vehicles, weapons, all the ammo and supplies we could carry north with us…”
Rob put a hand on Levine’s shoulder armor and closed his eyes in silent prayer of thanks.
“You can’t be serious—” sputtered Hallwood.
“And there’s a lot more behind us.”
Rob’s eyes opened. “What do you mean?”
The radio crackled again. “Rob! You better get in here…The Chinese are sacking Tucson…it’s all over the HAM net. They’re burning it to the ground!”
“That’s what I was about to tell you. There’s refugees heading this way. And a whole shit ton of people from the outskirts—they had a nice roadblock set up—”
“Man named Brady?” asked Rob.
Levine nodded. “Yep. Brady. Got a whole posse with him, all loaded for bear, said they’re coming north to find you boys. You’re gonna have your own army here, soon enough.”
“They’re destroying Tucson? They said they were going to leave…” mumbled Hallwood. His shoulders slumped forward.
Lance trotted up, his boots crunching on the gravel. “Rob!”
“Lance, this is Agent Levine. Agent Levine, Lance Bryton, my…well, my co-captain I guess you could say.”
“Pleasure, sir,” said Levine as the two men shook hands.
Rob turned to Hallwood. “You can see we’re not going to roll over and give up. You run along back to your new masters and tell them we’re going to be coming for them. You tell ‘em we’re going to give ‘em a war.”
Hallwood looked utterly defeated. “You’re asking me to sign the death warrant for my town, my friends and neighbors.” He shook his head. “The Chinese will kill us all, now…”
“Then join us, Roger. Convince your friends to move up here with us. There’s plenty of shelter…”
“There’s little enough food left for us in town…how will we all survive, you and your new little army?”
Rob started to smile again. He looked at Lance and Agent Levine. “Gentlemen, follow me.”
Rob led the three others across the compound to a large storage area that had been dug into the side of the mountain and blocked off with logs. A crude gate had been cut into the wood and blocked with a chain-link fence segment. Rob unlocked the padlock and swung the gate open. “Have a look.”
Lance grinned as Levine and Hallwood peeked inside and gasped.
“There’s got to be ten tons of materiel in there—food, weapons, ammo…where’d it all come from
?” asked Levine.
“That’s courtesy of the Red Chinese. You tell your people to come up here, Roger. We’ve got the food and space for everyone. And we’re gonna get more, I promise you.”
CHAPTER 9
Press Release
HANK SUTHBY, ACTING PRESIDENT of the United States, watched the monitor carefully. He was hunched over the desk in the new Situation Room at NORAD, ignoring paperwork, directives, strategies, all of it—he wanted to focus on the image of his assistant, Daniel, as the promising young man made his way to a Presidential Podium down in the Press Room.
A few reporters off-screen started shouting questions. Suthby rocked back in his chair and nibbled a fingernail absently. Daniel ignored the reporters and looked down at the papers in his hand.
“My name is Daniel Jones and I am currently the Assistant Director of Homeland Security. I have a statement for immediate release to the members of the Press.” He organized his papers and cleared his throat. Lifting up the top page of his papers, he began to read.
“The General Assembly of the United Nations, reminding all member nations of the strong commitment we all have towards stability in every region of the world, which recognizes the inherent dignity, equality and inalienable rights of all global citizens…”
Suthby detected a murmur making its way through the pool reporters. They looked at each other. A few shrugged, one man shook his head in apparent disbelief, and the only woman present began to scribble notes furiously on her tablet.
“…Reaffirming its Resolution 33/2015, which encourages Governments to work with UN bodies aimed at improving the coordination and effectiveness of international crisis assistance…”
“What the hell is this?” asked one of the reporters, holding a hand up like a child in school. Suthby frowned at the interruption but was heartened by the fact that Daniel never missed a beat and continued speaking.
“Noting with especial satisfaction the past and continuing Herculean efforts of the surviving members of the government of the United States, its agencies and nongovernmental organizations…”
Sic Semper Tyrannis Page 13