United States Invaded

by Ira Tabankin

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  My phone pings with a text message, “All Militia member alert, UN advancing into Virginia from Maryland, help needed on I-95 south.”

  I read the message twice, if I leave now, I might be able to return before Kathy gets home from work. She won’t even know I left. I’ll call her to check in around 3:00, so she knows I’m OK, I could text her, so she doesn’t get suspicious. I change into my ACU pants, and boots, grab one of my AR 15s and my vest loaded with 9 thirty round magazines. Dumping everything into my car, I drive I-95 north to join the action on the south side of the road just inside the border between Virginia and Maryland.

  Chapter 26

  Nanny Polsi lands at Andrews Air Force base where she’s met by four secret service agents and two Marines. One of the agents greets her, “Hello Mrs. Polsi, welcome back to Washington. We’ve been asked to escort you.”

  “Thank you, however that won’t be necessary as I called ahead for a car, and I have a dinner reservation at 8PM at Mortens with some old friends.”

  “Mrs. Polsi, I’m sorry, however, the terms of your surrender state you will come with us to your hotel where you’ll remain until your lawyer meets with you.”

  “Agent don’t get in my way, you know who I am, I can make your life very difficult.”

  “Mrs. Polsi, you don’t seem to understand your situation. You are under arrest for fraud, for tampering with our election laws and for lying under oath. You are no longer a citizen of the United States; you don’t have a visitor visa. As such you will accompany us to your hotel where an armed guard will ensure you remain in your room for the evening. If this isn’t satisfactory to you, I’m sure we have a nice warm cell downtown you can spend the night in.”

  “Agent, get out of my face! Look here’s my car. I’ll see you at my hotel tomorrow at 10:00 AM, not a minute before. I need my rest.”

  “Agents, sergeant, if Mrs. Polsi doesn’t get in our Suburban in one minute, you have my permission to handcuff her and put her in it. Am I clear?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Nanny stands in front of the agent with a shocked look on her face. Agent, what’s your name?”

  “My name is Secret Service Special Agent Jonson; I’m the agent in charge of the President’s protective detail. Are you ready to come with us now?”

  “Which hotel did you book me into?”

  “The Marriott, downtown Washington DC.”

  “That hotel is unacceptable to me.”

  “Mrs. Polsi, you’re on the verge of spending the rest of your life in a 8 foot square box with bars.”

  “There’s not a snowballs chance in hell I’ll be convicted; I have information that’s very valuable to trade.”

  “Mrs. Polsi, get in the car or you can spend the night in jail, right now, I don’t care which. By the way, we spoke to President Brownie, you have nothing we need or want.”

  Nanny is shocked to hear she’s been sold out by Brownie. “I’ll get even with him.”

  “That’s something I don’t think he’ll have to worry about. You are going to spend the rest of your life in jail; your personal fortune is going to be confiscated to go into a fund to help compensate those harmed by your fraud.”

  Agent Jonson says, “Get her out of my face.”

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  The Russian attack against the Kings Row submarine base has twice failed. The United Nations’ surface fleet turns to return to port in Cuba when one of the destroyers blows up; she breaks in half and sinks. The acting commander looks at the explosion saying, “Must be submarines, tell the fleet to go active, ping away, find that SOB and sink him.”

  The fleet uses their rarely used active sonar to locate the submarine, “Captain; we found the submarine.”

  “So why don't I see debris on the surface?”

  “Sir, because it’s a Chinese nuclear attack boat.”

  “A what? What’s a Chinese submarine doing here?”

  “Sir, we have no idea, why did it attack us?”

  “I don’t know. Have you tried to contact the submarine?”

  “No sir, once we determined it was a Chinese boat we paused.”

  “Use the sonar to send a message, ask him to surface so we can talk.”

  “Sir, he’s surfacing in the middle of our fleet.”

  “Chinese submarine, why did you attack us?”

  “We didn’t attack you; you can send someone over to count our weapons. We heard the torpedo too, if you check the sound signature of the fish, you’ll realize it wasn’t one of ours.”

  “Do you know whose it was?”

  “No, we were conducting a normal training mission when your sonars bombarded us.”

  Checking the sonar signals, the crew of the United Nations Cruiser agrees with the Chinese Submarine. “Captain, you are correct; the fish wasn’t one of yours, you are free to go. We’re sorry we interrupted your training mission.”

  The Chinese submarine slips under the surface with the captain laughing. “XO, they fell for it, they never thought the Americans would give us some of their Mark 48 torpedoes.”

  “Captain can they be that stupid?”

  “We just saw they can and are. Let’s continue our mission, we’ll dive deep, launch a decoy and return to take out another of their ships.”

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  The State Police blocked traffic on I-95, “Sir, where are you going?”

  “Officer, here’s my ID card and driver’s license, member in good standing with the NOVA militia. I received a text message for all of our members to come to a mile marker. Something about the United Nations’ troops marching south.”

  “Brad, your ID checks, yes, the shiny white tanks and vehicles are heading to DC; our orders are to clear the civilians from the area. Leave your car about a half mile ahead, the Guard is running a shuttle service to the front. So far most of the traffic has been the wounded and dead coming south. About thirty of you arrived an hour ago, you’re the first in twenty minutes. Be careful out there.”

  “Thanks.”

  Driving to where the officer told me, I park my car on a construction cut off with forty other cars, a few I recognize. I put on my vest and grab my AR, as I close my car’s door I hear a loud boom, the ground shakes under my feet. I start walking north when a hummer arrives carrying ten wounded. The hummer takes them to the exit where there're four ambulances waiting. Ten minutes later the hummer returns to where I’m walking. “Get in, save your strength, you’re going to need it.”

  “What’s going on up there?”

  “Damn United Nations is tearing us a new asshole. We’ve got ARs; they’ve got tanks and APCs with 12.5 mm machine guns. They’re killing us.”

  “What about the IEDs?”

  “We’ve used them to slow the Russians down, and then their tanks starting blasting anything that didn’t look right to them.”

  The ground shakes again. “That must be one of their tanks.”

  “Yea, tough mothers, I think they’re T72s, not their latest, but since we don’t have any Abrams, we’re shit out of luck.”

  While we’re talking the skies open up in a thunder shower. “I got an idea, do you know where there’s any fuel trucks?”

  “Should be at one of the gas stations at the next exit, I saw one there a couple of hours ago.”

  “Can you drive it?”

  “Yes, however, if you’re going to ask me to drive a gasoline tanker anywhere near a tank or PAC, you’re nuts.”

  “Just bring it to the line of the militia, can you do that?”

  “Maybe, can you drive a hummer?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get out at the exit ramp ahead, you drive the hummer to your buddies, I’ll get the rolling truck bomb and meet you there.”

  “How will I know where they are?”

  “You’ll see them.” He says laughing.

  We stop, and he gets out and starts jogging in the rain down the exit ramp. I put the hummer in gear and continue north. Around two curves, I
see the militia camp. He was right; I couldn’t miss them. On the right hand side of the highway is a base camp, ten large tents and people coming and going. One tent is white with a large Red Cross painted on it. I pull over. Before I get to twenty feet in front of the one of the tents, I hear, “Brad, you mother! Man it’s good to see you. You’re nuts to be here. We’re getting killed. The damn United Nations has tanks painted white coming down the road.”

  “How are we doing?”

  “Look around, see the aid tent. We ain't doing good. In fact, we’re getting our asses shot off.”

  “Who’s in charge?”

  “Bobby, know him?”

  “Yea, where is he?”

  “Third tent to the right.”

  “Bobby, you in here?”

  “Hey Brad, wish I could say it’s good to see you. Man we’re getting creamed.”

  “What have you tried?”

  “The IEDs, the mines, Molotov Cocktails. They’ve blown through the defenses we built.”

  “I got a crazy idea. I asked the guard to bring a fuel truck.”

  “Brad, a fuel truck?”

  “Bobby, look outside the tent, rain.”

  “So what?”

  “We take the fuel truck to a point in front of the tanks; we pour a bunch of gas on the wet road, it’ll ride above the water. When the United Nations hits the area, we fire a couple of flares into the gas. The burning gas will engulf the tanks. When most of the tanks are next to the truck, we blow the truck; it should take out some of the tanks.”

  “I like it; I knew there was a reason Ron likes you. When is the truck getting here?”

  “Any minute.”

  The guardsman driving the fuel tanker arrives ten minutes later. We explain what we want him to do; he laughs saying. “Yea, that should work, crispy UN critters, I like it. When do we move?”

  Bobby says, “Now.”

  The fuel truck follows Bobby’s Jeep. The road curves to the right and left; we drive five miles. We hear shooting from both sides. Bobby says, “Put the truck here and start spraying the road.”

  We hear our militia brothers running towards us. “Guys, they’re coming, we’ve got to get the hell out of here. Their blasting everything that doesn’t looks normal to them. They’re killing us. We’ve lost 60% of our people. Hey, what the hell are you doing with the truck?”

  “We’re going to spray gas along the road, light it and the truck when the pretty white tanks are in the center of the mess.”

  “Guys, it’s raining out, don’t you know water puts fire out? You guys lose it in the fighting?”

  “Listen, we don’t have much time, gasoline will float on the water, the rain won’t put the fire out, when the fuel truck goes, it’s going to take a lot of them with it.”

  “Will it really work?”

  “Could, if we get lucky.”

  “What are waiting for? The tanks and our guys are around the third curve.”

  We position the gas and the truck; we head into the woods, so we’re not seen. In minutes the woods if filled with others from our militia. Robby sees me; he runs over giving me a hug. Damn I didn’t think you’d be here. You look good for an old man. Does Kathy know you’re here?”

  “No, we’ve got to wrap this up by the time she gets home or she’ll neuter me, and then she’ll kill me.”

  Everyone laughs; we hear the tanks coming. Bobby says, “Get ready, Rob, have any more cocktails available?”

  “Got four. Want them?”

  “When the soldiers dismount and run, toss the cocktails at them, and then shoot them.”

  A line of white painted tanks and armored personnel carriers followed by lines of trucks carrying United Nations’ troops starts to round the last curve before they reach our position. Thank God for the road angles backwards towards their position. The gas is being carried by the rain right under the oncoming invaders. It’s hard to see in the glum and overcast how far the gas has flowed; we’re out of time, I yell, “Hit it!”

  Two flare guns shoot burning flares up in an arch that land in the pool of gas under the oncoming vehicles.

  BOOM, the gas explodes sucking the surrounding oxygen in from the surrounding vehicles, it sucks the oxygen out of the United Nations’ vehicles. A third of the vehicles are engulfed in the flames. People are screaming. Many try to jump from the burning trucks and armored vehicles, their uniforms are on fire; their skin is burning, their hair is on fire. A couple of the armored vehicles in the front of the line explode. The flames have “cooked off” the onboard ammunition which blows up the vehicles. Two tanks explode like giant roman candles. The invaders continue to move forward into the flames; they can’t stop because the vehicles behind them are still moving forward. When the front few lines of tanks think they’re clear of the fire, the fuel truck explodes like a small nuclear bomb. A fireball blows a hole in the low overcast. Parts of the truck are sent at high speed in all directions, cutting the troops trying to get out of the flames in pieces. The blast wave from the exploding fuel truck knocks the front row of tanks and APCs onto their sides blocking the road. As the United Nations’ troops try to jump to save their lives, we open fire cutting many down. A couple of APCs and tanks open fire on our position. I watch a few of my friends hit and fall. I and two others grab a first aid kit while we run to our wounded friends.

  Running, I feel something hit my leg, the next thing I know, I lying face down on the ground.

  Chapter 27

  In border towns between the LSA and the USA, mobs of LSA citizens crossed the border to protest the USA not agreeing to sign the United Nations’ nuclear disarmament treaty. Local and national media asked some of the protesters why they risked arrest to cross the border, why were they upset, the responses they received were;

  “Any nuclear counter-attack on the USA will include the LSA, we’re next door, we’ll die too. The arrogant fools in Washington, DC, will kill us, as well as themselves.”

  “Nuclear weapons are bad for the environment.”

  “The whole world should completely disarm; all wars are bad.”

  “Make love, not war.”

  “Why can’t we all just chill out?”

  “No one needs nuclear weapons.”

  “The USA is the world’s largest terrorist, the only country to ever use nuclear weapons,”

  The reporter from NBX asked, “Don’t you worry about being arrested for crossing the border without a visa?”

  “We don’t need visas; the world should be open for everyone; borders are just lines drawn on a map. We don’t approve of borders. We don't need any borders.”

  The reporter from ABX asked, “Without borders, how do we have countries?”

  “We don’t need countries; we’re all people trying to improve our childrens’ lives, we’re all citizens of the Earth. Borders cause global warming.”

  The reporter from Wolf news asked, “Don’t you think individual countries should decide their own fate and take whatever path they deem necessary for their own defense?”

  “No, we all live on the same planet, we should have a say in what anyone on the planet does. If we don’t all come together to stop global warming millions will die. We need a world government to manage the Earth’s assets.”

  “As a follow up question isn’t it true the planet isn’t warming?”

  “Dude, can’t you feel the heat? Don’t you see it’s hot out here?”

  “But where’s the proof?”

  “Proof, just feel how warm it is, man, if you disagree with global warming you also believe the moon is made of green cheese. Everyone knows the planet is getting hotter, just ask anyone, anyone with brains will tell you.”

  The reporter from CNX asked, “Do you think making marijuana legal lowers the risk of war?”

  “Dude, of course, why would we fight each other if we can get stoned together? When everyone uses marijuana, no one wants to fight. If the fools in Washington, DC, just chilled out they would sign the treaty and just chill.�
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  The crowds continue to cross the border protesting against the USA, doubling or tripling the population of border towns whose assets can’t support the influx. The small towns don’t have the budget to provide assistance for the mobs swelling the population of the towns. Local police ask the protesters to go home, the protester's laugh at the police, they refuse to move. Tent cities pop up along the border, huge signs saying, “Ban The Bomb” are hung on poles at the front of the camp sites. Local militias decide they’ve had enough of the moochers; they want the protesters to go home. In the middle of the night, twelve militias coordinate their attacks against the tent cities; they enter the tents, pushing the people out at the barrel of a gun. They force the mobs out of their tents trying to push them back across the border. As the protesters are pushed out of the tent cities, the police move in to inspect the grounds, they find all types of drugs, piles of trash, and piles of human waste. The police and townspeople are disgusted by the filth of the protesters. They decide to set the tent cities on fire to cleanse the area from whatever the protesters carried into the towns.

  The protesters try to push back against the militias; some protesters try to grab their rifles, which gets them hit by the rifle butts. Skirmishes break out between the groups as they get closer to the border. A couple of towns use bulldozers that lineup in a row to force the mobs back across the border. The protesters throw rocks, bottles and even human waste at the militia pushing them across the border.

  The militias set up armed border patrols to support the small numbers of border patrol agents. Citizens join the militias building barricades at the border.

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  “President Brownie, President Brownstone is online one.”