Texas Secedes: 2021 AD.

[Federated Amerika]

Alexa Tillotson read, and then reread, the message on her laptop. As she turned in her chair to look out the large window, the immensity of the message hadn't quite sunk in as yet. Her mind wandered a bit as she took in the nascent beauty of her gardens. The tulips and jonquils were poking up through the warming earth, the old cherry trees were showing the first blush of the pink and white petals that were world-famous, and the little buds on her roses were about to burst open with their fragrant scents.

She was jolted back to reality when she heard a knock at her door and her vice-president, Grace Moorehead burst in. "Madame President! You've seen the news?" She was followed into the Oval Office by the Secretary of State and her Chief of Staff.

Alexa sighed. "Grace, it's just the four of us. You can dispense with the formalities." The three standing in front of her desk relaxed a little.

"Yes, I got the report just a couple of minutes ago. Seems them rednecks are serious this time." She glanced at Secretary of State Millicent Lestat. "What are your impressions, Millie?"

Millicent Lestat, a direct descendant of the legendary Betsy Ross, said simply, "Alexa, if Texas follows through with their intentions, we may see a domino effect. Oklahoma, Nevada, Alaska, and Hawaii will be watching closely. God knows what would happen if they move to leave the Union as well."

Alexa took a look at her husband, Jack, who was her Chief of Staff, and said, "And I suppose I could guess your reaction. Bomb the hell out of them and let the chips fall where they may." Jack remained silent, a slight nod of his head bearing his affirmation.

Silence for a minute, then the President of the United States said, "Contact whoever it is that is perpetrating this nonsense and see if you can find out how serious they are at this point. Be firm, but not over-belligerant. This New Texan Republic has quite the arsenal, not to mention production and control over nearly 35% of the country's oil."

Grace Moorehead spoke up. "Don't forget the several naval bases in the Gulf, Alexa. They'd have complete control over all shipping lanes for nearly two thousand miles. Texas also has numerous missile silos."

The President tapped at her laptop. "It seems that the man we need to talk to is one Jason Houston. Any relation to old Sam?"

Jack said, "Don't know at this point, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out." He looked down for a second, then continued, "Alexa, this time is not a bluff. They mean it, and to further complicate matters, the commanding admiral of the Pacific Naval Forces in Pearl Harbor has issued a proclamation supporting the move by Texas. So they apparently knew about the secession before we did."

"Who's the Senator out there?"

"Joe Kalakaleni. An Independant. More conservative than some Tea Party members."

Alexa frowned. "Hmmmm, so no help there." She sat thinking for a minute. " Grace, Millie, do you remember way back in our sorority days that when we had some guys who were two-timing us the steps we took to straighten them out?" Grace and Millicent thought for a second and then smiled. "Yes, of course. Good, old-fashioned, detective work. Catch 'em red-handed, gloat a bit, them make 'em pay!" Grace's eyes were wide and she smiled. "Worked once. It'll work again!"

Alexa turned to Jack, "Dear, please find our SpecOps guy and get him in here by noon tomorrow. From what I hear of him, he'll get this thing nipped in the bud!"

Jack smiled. "Madame President, as you wish."

[New Texan States]

A group of men and women sat quietly, pondering the events of the past twenty-four hours. They had put together the Articles of Secession and Independence from the United States of America and were now gazing at the original Declaration of Independence which hung on the wall of the Republic of Texas courtroom.

"That, ladies and gents, is the real deal, the original. Those buffoons in DC still don't have a clue that the one in the capitol is a forgery." General Steve Taggart smiled and said, "Yep, and that 'aint the only thing they 'aint got a clue about!"

All present laughed. "Yes, we can enjoy the fruits of our efforts for now, but let me tell you all, we have a long way to go with what we've set in motion. That woman in the White House isn't gonna sit back and let this happen." Tom Winters, principle writer of the new declaration, looked over to a large map on the wall. "We're just one of 52 states, and no matter how much will power or fire power we may have, we're still in the minority."

The door burst open and Dr. Jason Houston, puffing furiously on a cigar, said, "Damn right, sir! We can't too cocky over this here piece of paper. It's a first step, to be sure, but now we got to do the things we said we're gonna do! Not like them liars in the Senate and Congress been saying for the past fifty years! And the first thing we need to do is establish ties with our neighbors."

"Louisiana and Alabama first on that list, no doubt." Evelyn Diego pointed at the map. "We need to consolidate the oil-producing states as soon as possible."

Houston nodded. "And while we're doing that, we need to construct The Wall." They all knew what that meant. The idea was to round up all the illegal immigrants in the state and put them to work building a fortified wall between the new republic and the southern nations of central and south america. The plan was to offer full citizenship to those who desired it if they participated in the construction of the wall. If there were those who objected, they would be placed, by force, on the other side of the Rio Grande river. And if the so-called president of Mexico objected, well, Houston had just two words for him.......and they weren't "happy birthday."

"Admiral Jones over to Pearl is backing us 100 per cent, but that isn't going to help us much at this point."

"No, not right now, but at least we 'aint gotta worry about our backs out in the Gulf with him on our side."

An aide came through the door. "Sir, this just came in from US Secretary of State Lestat."

Houston held it between thumb and fore-finger, as if it were something that stank. "Well, my friends, here we go!"

[Federated Amerika]

Lieutenant Colonel Bill Stryker wasn't even allowed to change from his BDUs before he was summoned to the White House. As he and his escort walked the halls leading to the Oval Office, he wondered what was so fucking important that he had to be pulled from a vital training class for his squad, nick-named "The Strykers."

The door swung open as they arrived and as he saw the President and her staff, he drew to full attention, saluting the head of the joint chiefs of staff from the Pentagon.

"At ease, Stryker. I'm sure you know all here. Madame President, he's all yours."

"Thank you, General Johnson." She ran a calculating eye over the Lt. Colonel and decided that he was the one to do the job she needed done.

"Lt. Colonel Stryker, you've no doubt heard the news about Texas by now?"

"No, ma'am. I've been out of contact with civilization for nearly two days training with my troops. What have they done this time?" Stryker was born and raised in Amarillo, and was very aware of his home state's rebellious nature.

"They've seceded, and this time it's apparent they mean to make it stick. Their forces are mobilizing on two fronts, in the east and the south. They are evidently going to disregard the policies of this government as well as those of the previous government. Construction material for the building of a Berlin Wall - type structure is being collected with the intent of preventing any more unfortunate Latinos escaping their poverty and disease and coming here to receive what every human being deserves....safety, security, food, and shelter." She paused and then continued. "The new government of the Texas Republic has further declared a Defcon-5 state of emergency. They are prepared to fight any and all who would oppose them. A number of sympathizing states have already announced support of one kind or another, including the entirety of the Pacific Fleet."

Stryker didn't blink or even move a muscle. "What would you have me do about it, Ma'am? I'm not a field commander. I get things done quickly...and quietly." He allowed a small grin to be seen.

"Exactly, Mr. Stryker. I don't want you to kill anybody. At least not yet. I want you to sneak into Texas and garner intel. Nothing more at this time. You may protect yourself, but only if absolutely necessary."

Stryker saluted. "Yes, Ma'am. When does all this happen?"

"Now, Lt. Colonel. General Johnson will give you the particulars. I want answers in ten days. That's all." She turned on her heel and headed out of another door across the room.

Johnson said, "My office, Stryker. Ten minutes."

[New Texan States]

It was the largest deployment of Texan militias since the war against Generalissimo Santa Ana some 150 years earlier. Texans, both private citizens and those serving in the military, overwhelmingly supported the birth of the Republic of Texas. Thousands of citizens flocked to the call of Jason Houston to dust off their Constitutionally-guaranteed weapons and prepare to defend their heaven proscribed rights.

The majority of the citizen-army were sent as back-up security to the fringes of the new country, the border-towns along the north, the west, and the eastern state lines. For the time being, the regular army was to be stationed along the southern borders with the Latino nations. It was here that the first real test of Texas' sovereignty would be tested.

Concurrently, a massive sweep of the major south-Texas cities were producing hundreds of thousands of illegals, that included not only those of Spanish descent, but hundreds of people from the Middle east and the African nations. It was quite the job to separate those who were truly seeking refuge and asylum from those who simply wanted a hand-out. Those who were found to be living on entitlements from the DC government for more than two years were given the choice to work on the Border Wall or leave the Republic. This, of course, created a protest movement.

"The revered practice of protesting a governmental action was one of the milestones of a free society. But as we all saw in the past twenty years or so that this practice has degenerated into anarchy. These protesters are nothing but anti-government rabble-rousers who want to continue picking the pockets of honest, law-abiding citizens. So all I have to say on this topic, ladies and gentlemen, is that if people want to protest peacefully, in accordance with lawful procedure, that they may indeed do so."

Jason Houston paused for a moment to carefully consider his next choice of words. "However, this Republic will not tolerate lawlessness. If the protesters turn violent, if they think they can throw bricks, stones, or Molotov cocktails; or if they think that they can disrupt normal daily business by building barricades of tires and setting them on fire; or if they think they can illegally occupy any public place or building, this government hereby gives notice that such actions will be met with deadly force. They will be given one warning to disperse, then our commanders are instructed to shoot-to-kill. I will not stand idly by while our security forces are placed in danger by fire-bombs or other destructive devices. This will not spiral out of control as it did in the earlier part of this century in the United States of America."

Those assembled in the courtroom serving as the capitol of the Republic in San Antonio stood as one and applauded Houston's statements. He held up his hands for silence and said, "I might as well tell you all right now that I am not a politician and therefore am not seeking political office. There are those who are far more qualified to administer a Constitutionally governed nation than I. I think it would be wise to choose a provisional government until such time as we can hold an election." He placed his hands on the table in front of him, then said. "And for what it's worth, I say that the monstrous debacle of the Electoral College be damned! The people should elect the most capable persons by popular majority, not some contrived notion of 'fairness'."

Again, the people rose to applaud Houston and despite his statement, there were calls for him to be President. When the clapping died down, he reiterated, "No, and no again! I will not stand for office. I will be part of the provisional government if you wish, but when the dust has settled, I will withdraw from public life. I'm an old man, and, besides, my wife needs me at home to cut the grass and do the dishes." Laughter and sporadic clapping was heard, then Houston continued.

"We have the opportunity of a lifetime, ladies and gentlemen, to retrieve and return to the vision of our Founding Fathers, who wanted nothing more than an honest, Constitutionally-governed society, of the people, by the people, and for the people. Not of, by, and for the federal government. Simply put, if it 'aint in the Constitution, it 'aint Constitutional. And if it 'aint Constitutional, it 'aint legal and therefore will not be done!"

The standing ovation lasted a full five minutes as old Jason Houston left the podium and walked to the door and out into the bright Texas sun. There was much to be done, but today was a good start.

[New Texan States]

Cpl. 1st Class Mark Carina stood in the shadows of the old tavern having a smoke. He was part of a squad keeping an eye on the main roads leading into Texas. They were dug in about 12 miles east of Sulphur Springs.

Sulphur Springs was normally a bustling cattle town about 45 miles west of the Texarkana state line. Lately, it had become something of a fortress. An armored division had been deployed there along with a squadron of F-16s that constantly patrolled the skies of East Texas. Six hundred marines and a thousand regular army troops were spread out in a line about six miles long. Interspersed in that line were three MASH Units and three LZs for a handful of AirWolf HCGSs. Six miles farther east were scattered fifteen hastily-constructed FireBases manned by hand-picked Desert Commandos, a total of 150 men and women.

"Hey, Carina, you holding up that wall?" Sgt. Stan Stedenko barked and his men listened. Cpl. Carina quickly put out the butt and sprang to attention. "Yessir, sorry sir, just takin' a break, sir!"

Stedenko stepped right up to Carina, nose to nose. "Let me make one thing clear here, boy. Them Yankee easterners 'aint gonna be so nice if'n you 'aint payin' attention! You'll be takin' a drag on that butt and you'll be exhalin' outta your sliced-open neck! Now get your scrawny ass out to that latrine and dig it out! On the double!"

Stedenko stood shaking his head when he became aware of someone standing next to him. He saluted and said, "Beggin' your pardon, Captain."

"At ease sergeant. A little hard on that boy, weren't you?" Capt. Rick Carlson looked every inch the grizzled old Marine gunnery captain.

"With all due respect, Captain, if'n I don't keep an eye on these half-trained militia, a lot of 'em gonna wake up dead when the shootin' starts."

"You think there's going to be shooting, sergeant?"

"Scuse me, sir, but do you think them DC bitches gonna sit back at let Texas secede without doing something about it? My guess is that there'll be a month or so of quiet while they collet info on us, then they'll start pokin' around our weaker spots before launching an all-out attack."

Karlson looked at Stedenko shrewdly. "So you think they'll try and sneak some of their SpecOps people into Texas and then pull 'em out just before they start their assaults."

Stedenko nodded. "Yessir. That's what I'd do, and them friggin' women runnin' that sorry-ass excuse for a country will do the expected. I heard tell that women think linearly, and that's what they gonna do!"

Capt. Karlson had to put a hand up in front of his mouth to hide the smile that was trying to burst forth. "Good thinking, sergeant. I expect that's what they'll be doing alright. But what we're going to do is let the SpecOps in, but we won't let them out. Then we can either convince them to see things our way, or put 'em to work on The Wall. Their choice."

Stedenko grinned. "Yessir! And maybe one day a lot more of the US will join us!"

Karlson saluted Stedenko and said, "Carry on, Sergeant. And don't lighten up too much on the new recruits, OK?"

[New Texan States]

The sniper checked her rifle one last time and adjusted the scope for the shot. She and her spotter had been tracking the intruders for 36 hours as they moved through the dense forests of south-eastern Texas. She could tell they were city boys: they couldn't move quietly at all. They just blundered along as if they were the only folks on the planet.

"Hey, Wanda, you gonna wait all day or you gonna take a shot?" Bob Burley was Wanda Lewis' spotter and a hell of a sniper in his own right. The plan was for her to take the first and third shots while he took out two of the enemy with the second and fourth shots. That would leave just two of the city boys to deal with.

She gave him the finger and four seconds later squeezed the trigger. The lead enemy soldier's head exploded just as the second bullet left Bob's rifle and blew a large hole out of the soldier's back. Wanda's second shot hit the third victim in the groin and Burley's second shot tore through his target's neck.

In just five seconds, four of the enemy soldiers were dead or dying, the other two stood stock still, not able to comprehend what had just happened.

"Kabars or Berettas, Wanda?" In answer, she waved her Kabar battle knife above her head and both Texans headed out at a dead run toward the perplexed enemy soldiers. Just before they died transfixed by the deadly razor-sharp knives, their blood poured out of their slashed chests combining with the spreading pools of blood, brains, and other bodily fluids of their compatriots.

The Texans wiped their knives on the BDUs of the enemy corpses and Wanda went through the pockets of all six dead soldiers. "Nothing of interest here, Bob", she said. "They were moving fast, destination unknown. Not even a fucking map. How the hell did they know where they were?"

Burley had put a large chew of tobacco in his cheek. "Damned stupid city fellers, if'n you ask me. I reckon they thought they were strolling down one of them big city streets I heard tell about in New Yawk or Washington."

"No doubt, no doubt. Let's get the hell outta here just in case there's more of them around. Head to the high ground."

Bob nodded, and the two silently followed the deer paths up to the plateau where they could see for miles. "We'll bivouac here, get some sleep, then find us some more city slickers to kill, eh Wanda?"

"Sounds like a plan, Bob. You sleep first and I'll take watch."

[Federated Amerika]

"Excuse me? Would you run that by me again?" President Tillotson sat back in her chair with a puzzled look on her face.

"Ma'am, this report, from a very reliable source, says that an alliance of eleven towns and cities have formed a break-away nation called Imperial Missouri. The cities include St. Louis, Fenton, and Springfield, as well as eight other smaller towns."

Tillotson walked over to the wall map. "Sort of a large area, Jack. But manageable if we get right on it. WHo do we have out there?"

"That's the problem, Alexa. The politicians, industrialists, and the military are on the side of the separatists. Our closest people are scattered from the Ozarks to Joplin and on into Oklahoma. Oklahoma isn't going to be any help as most of our resources there are focussed on Texas."

The President's shoulders slumped as she rubbed her temples. "Jack, this shit has got to stop! I'm almost at the point of agreeing with you to go in blasting and let the results determine our future!"

Jack Tillotson, his wife's Chief of Staff, said, "Let's do that very thing, but on a small, local scale. We could target a smaller town, say fifteen to twenty thousand population, and then carpet-bomb it. After ample warning, of course. Say, 48 hour notice to lay down their arms and return to the fold."

Alexa looked again at the map, silent for a moment. Turning to her husband, she said, "OK, but YOU are directly in charge of this mission. You better pick the right people, the right time, and the right amount of force. If this blows up in our face, I'll hang YOU out to dry! Understand?"

Jack smiled. "Yes, Madam President. Understood." He walked over to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Don't worry, dear. I'll handle it. As I always do."

He turned on his heel and strode out of the Oval Office, happier than he'd been in months.

[Imperial Missouri]

"Now children, what is the one, most important thing we can learn from our lord's decision to leave the American Union?"

In unison, the children responded, "There is strength in unity. There is value in unity. There is peace in unity."

"Very good! Now tomorrow......." The teacher was distracted by a distant, droning sound. "Children, stay in your seats. I'll be right back." Gwen Jones walked out of the front doors of the elementary school where there were several other teachers standing on the front lawn. "What do you think it is, Gwen?"

She was shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun when she suddenly dropped her hands to her side and stammered, "Get back to your classrooms! Get the children to safety! Those are military planes, probably bombers! I'd know that sound anywhere." She had sat at the foot of her grandfather as he spoke of the bombings in Korea and Viet Nam and played her the sounds of those countries being bombed by American B-52s.

As they all ran back inside, they could hear the sounds of explosions along the south-east part of Rolla where the poorest of the poor lived. The bombing continued to get closer, and Gwen was horrified to see the skies dark with the black outlines of the US Airforce bombers. They were, plain and simple, carpet-bombing Rolla, Missouri.

As the bombardment went on, nearly half the city of 20,000 was in flames due to the extensive use of napalm bomblets. Also among the bombs were frag-heads, bombs loaded with tens of thousands of tiny, razor-sharp, pieces of metal that exploded just 100 yards above the ground.

By the time the bombers had used up their arms, the city was one big pall of smoke. Most of the infrastructure was destroyed or damaged, and a quick count of dead and wounded stood at over 100 dead, thousands wounded.

The last thing Gwen Jones remembered before the twin napalm bombs incinerated the school was that she had to get home and make sure Fluffy, her cat, was safe.............

[United States of Unfreedom]

Jeremy Rose quietly trotted through the dense forests, GPS in hand. He could see open ground and lights ahead, although they hopefully couldn't see him. He was wearing a dark black outfit that blended in well with the dark trees behind him. He took a knee and pulled out a small knife just in case it was needed. "Hey, who's that over there?" shouted one of the many Texan soldiers standing guard. "Oh, it's me, I was just checking them woods over there." said Jeremy Rose in his Virginian accent sprinting towards the town. "What..the hell." he said as he fell down into the huge line of dugouts across the ground.

Next thing Jeremy knew was he was running as fast as he could from a machine-gun towards the town. He turned a corner and ran up to a door knocking on it. A woman, who looked only in her early thirty's, opened the door hesitantly. "What'd you want?" she asked through the small slit between the door and the frame. "I need help, I've been shot." said Jeremy putting the knife up. "Come on then! Come on!" she said opening the door, letting him in.

"Thank you, ma'am." he said walking through the doorway into the apartment. "No husband ma'am?" Jeremy asked, looking into one of the rooms at a sleeping child. "Yeah, I've got a husband, but he got called up for militia service." she said sadly. "Oh, well I'm sorry, what exactly is he doing in the militia?" Jeremy asked laying down on the wooden floor. "They've gotta build a wall of some sorts, don't go asking me now, I'm just wife." she said walking off into another room. Jeremy grunted as he slipped his vest off and looked down. Like he'd thought, a bullet tore through his right side. "Oh, no, let me help. I'm a nurse" said the lady as she returned. The lady took a knee beside Jeremy and looked at the bullet wound. "It's not too bad, just a graze." she said with a smile as she opened a cabinet and pulled out a first-aid kit. She began extracting the bullet and sewing him back up. "Where're you from anyway? Your accent surely a'int Texan that's for sure." she asked. "Virginia, ma'am." he said hesitantly. "What're do you doing all the way down from Virginia?" she asked. "Politics." he said as he tried to stand up. "That's all I can say, ma'am, confidential." Jeremy said rising. The woman shook her head, "At least tell me your name then." she said. "Jeremy.. Jeremy Rose." he said slowly. "Well, I'm Melody." she said with a smile. "Why don't you go in there and lay down, you look exhausted." she said pointing to one of the bedrooms in the small apartment.

[Federated Amerika]

OOC: If you wish to join this thread, you MUST contact me first. There are a limited number of players I'm allowing and the thread is very near the limit.

Thanks.

[Federated Amerika]

All of the bombers returned safely to Cape Girardeau from the run on Rolla, primarily because Imperial Missouri didn't have any aircraft to stop the bombing. Three video drones were moving slowly over the destruction caused by the bombing, and even the President's Cabinet was appalled by what they saw.

Nearly seventy percent of Rolla had been hit to one degree or another. The hardest hit area had been where the oil transfer stations were located. Dozens of oil trucks were aflame, the pumping stations and pipelines all gone. Thick, black smoke belched from this area, and the drone could not help but send back the videos of hundreds of bodies spread all over the ground, some on fire.

"My God, Jack! What have you done?" President Tillotson stared at her husband as if she had never seen him before.

"You wanted results, you got results. You have a message on your desk from one Prince Rupert of Imperial Missouri asking for a cessation of hostilities." He was grinning from ear to ear.

Vice-President Moorehead gasped. "There must be thousands of casualties down there! They're American citizens!"

Jack said, "They were before they seceded. Now they will be again......soon."

They continued to watch in horror as scene after scene of death and devastation streamed by on the large tv screen in the Oval Office. Moorehead asked, "Do we have a count on casualties yet?"

Jack looked down at his notes. "Out of population of just over 28,000 people, 9,200 are dead, 12,354 wounded or missing."

Secretary of State Lestat pointed at a large burning building. "That's a fucking hospital, Jack! You destroyed a hospital!"

He looked at his report again. "To be more accurate, three hospitals, six schools, two shopping malls, 42 factories, and 4,861
residential dwellings."

An aide burst into the room. "Madame President, telegrams and emails are pouring into our switchboard along with hundreds of calls!"

"Tell them all that I'll respond this evening on a national broadcast."

The aide continued. "Ma'am, I think you should know that they are running about 50/50, for and against."

She was silent as she digested this info, and she glanced over at Jack, who was on the verge of laughing out loud.

"Wipe that frigging smile off your face, dammit! This government has just killed nearly 10,000 Americans and virtually wiped out their city!"

"Yeah, and at least half the country is applauding you for it! With a bit of spinning, we can turn this to a distinct advantage when dealing with Texas in the coming weeks."

She looked at him. "You're disgusting.......but you're right. Get me the Joint Chiefs on the line. And refuel those bombers down in Cape Girardeau. Have an escort of F-16s ready to escort them. Texas isn't going to be a cake-walk like Missouri."

[Federated Amerika]

Lt. Col. Stryker was impatient for the cover of darkness. He and his team had been holed up for two days in a rat-infested warehouse about a mile off of 35-W. They resting up after two weeks of sneaking past border guards, desert patrols, and drone recon birds. Now they were ready to do what they came for.

Stryker looked, for the tenth time, at the map of San Antonio. He needed to let his government know what was happening in the capitol of the newly established nation of the Texas Republic. They had all the info they needed about what resources they had, where they were, and how they might be used. But they needed some concrete plans of the enemy. For that was how the US government saw the Texans.....as enemies.

Stryker knew it would have to be a get-in and-get-out fast operation. Then high tail it back to the LZ in Texarkana for airlift to DC.

Night fell, and they were ready. Garbed in city-grey/black camo, rifles, pistols, and battle knives at the ready. "O'Brien! You got those RPGs ready?" The soldier lifted the deadly weapon silently.

Stryker nodded, and then just above a whisper, said, "Remember, we're here for intel, nothing else. Fire if fired upon. Do not jump the gun. We should be able to get inside that relic of a capitol building with little problem." Nods all around and he gave the signal to move out.

The night was cloudless, a misty rain falling. The SpecOp team walked towards the dilapidated cyclone fence. From there they would continue for a two mile hike to the court house serving as the Texan capitol.

The darkness was rudely banished as several powerful spotlights lit up the scene. The team froze, unable to see for several seconds.

"Lay your weapons down immediately! I repeat, lay your weapons down! You are surrounded and will be killed if you do not comply! I will not repeat my command! You have ten seconds!"

Stryker looked around and could not see much of anything past the bright lights.

"Five seconds!"

Stryker gave the signal to surrender, but too late for one of his team who opened fire. The man died in a hail of bullets a few seconds later. The rest dropped their weapons and raised their hands.

A big, cigar-chomping captain walked briskly towards him. "I'll bet you're Stryker." He saluted the Lt. Col., and then continued. "I'm Capt. Bo Gritz, in charge of the security of this here city of San Antonio." He gestured and twenty soldiers moved out of the darkness, weapons leveled.

Stryker grinned. "Well, well. Old Bo Gritz. You were a corporal last I heard."

Gritz laughed. "Yeah, I musta done somethin' right, eh?" His demeanor changed. "Now, Stryker, get your ass over to them troop carriers. You'll be going to intel recovery!"

[Tarlag]

Angus Campbell sat alone at a table in a sidewalk cafe in Greenville S.C. looking over the news on His I pad. The firebombing of that breakaway town out west disturbed Him more then the rest of the news. He remembered what had happened in the old country when the Cameron Government turned their back on the agreement they had made with the Scots in 2014.

In exchange for the no independence vote the English had made promises. By 2017 those promises had been forgotten. By 2018 the protests had started again. They could have kept everything under control, but Commander William Brooks C.O. of HMS Cardiff ruined that. Cardiff was sailing into Scapa Flow When she encountered several fishing vessels filled with protesters. Instead of following orders and avoiding contact with the Scots Brooks sailed by within a 100 meters of the ships. That is when the trouble started. One of the protesters launched fireworks at the Cardiff. Brooks took it as an attack and ordered the crew to fire on the ships. After ten minutes two fishing boats and 47 people lay at the bottom of the old fleet anchorage. Six months of bloodshed followed with a quarter of the British army going over to the Scottish side.

Angus's remembering was cut short when a large dark skinned man in blue jeans and a white dress shirt sat down. With a heavy British accent the man got Angus's attention. "Brother, I trust you have been reading the news. Those folks in Washington think it is a good idea to kill their own people."

Angus smiled. "Sit down you black bastard, It's Scapa Flow all over again all right. It will end in tears mark my words."

The Man returned the smile. "Me and the rest been thinking that we could make them regret what they did to that town, You in?"

[New Texan States]

Gen. Steve Taggart and Evelyn Diego watched as Jason Houston limped up the front steps of the capitol. "Well, Jason, looks like we have contact with the enemy!" Taggart stood grim and resolute.

"Gosh, Taggart.....ya'll think? We got them damned black ops people in the cage and we got another breakaway nation what just got a major city fire-bombed by them damned women in DC!" He continued on into the building. And if our info is correct, we got that same air wing preparing to head south. Now what I want is our boys up in the air and our northern army beefed up on the border. Tanks and artillery at staggered positions along the Red River line."

"Jason, that's already done! We've got to strike them before they strike us! Overwhelming force! That seems to be all they understand!" Evelyn Diego, was a Council woman but recently was given a commission as a Colonel in the Texas 14th Regiment. This was the force currently on the northern front.

Taggart said, "But Colonel, we do not have the necessary forces to launch a strike on the ground all the way up to Missouri or Kentucky."

She leveled her gaze at him. "No, General, but we DO have tactical missiles up along the borderlines. All around this new country we have a solid line of tactical, ballistic, and larger missiles. I ordered them there the day we declared our independence!"

Jason laughed. "Good for you, Colonel! I agree. I think a half-dozen tacticals on military targets will get the message across!"

Taggart exclaimed, "But, Jason, that'll cause escalation! We hit them, they hit us!"

Jason said, "Yeah,and when the hittings done we'll see who's still standing!"

[New Texan States]

As the missile batteries were being readied, three previously unknown patriot groups came together and determined to teach the DC government a lesson they'd long remember.

Elements of a group named The American Meritocratic Union and another named simply the Patriot Front had been planning and training together in the high deserts of New Mexico for about a year. Now their time had come.

Sixty-six strong, the two groups found their way via various routes to a heavily wooded area four miles from the air bases in Cape Girardeau. They had been expecting some serious resistence from the US forces guarding the base, but, surprisingly enough, they were lax enough that the patriots were able to cut through the cyclone fence, take out the guards around the hangars, and lay enough C-4 around the F-16s and B-52 bombers to demolish them five-times-over. In just thirteen minutes, the airbase was aflame with 87% of the aircraft destroyed.

The third group, called the Sons of the Fathers, who were located in New Hampshire, made the very bold move of stealing two F-16s from the airbase in Nashua and making numerous strikes in and around the Washington DC area, including the Smithsonian Museums and the Washington Monument. They were eventually brought down by American Air Force jets, but not before extensive damage had been done to the infrastructure of the DC area. The secession movement now had it's first martyrs, and the groundswell as a result was building momentum.

[United States of Unfreedom]

Texarkana, Texas

Jeremy Rose was startled awake by gunshots and the occasional explosion. "What the hell..?" he whispered to himself, rising out of the bed. "Ow, fuck!" he screamed as he fell to the ground holding his side. He looked up just in time to see a soldier bust through the door holding a shotgun. "Put your hands behind your head and don't move!" screamed the soldier shining a flashlight in his eyes. Jeremy slowly put his hands behind his head and rose to his feet. "Who are you? What is your name?!" screamed the soldier motioning the gun at him. "My name's Jeremy Rose, I'm a diplomat." said Jeremy as he rose to his feet. "Come on." said the soldier grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling him through the doorway. "Where are you taking me?" he asked cringing from his gunshot wound. "You don't need to know, you damned spy." said the soldier throwing a sack over Jeremy's head. "Your interrogation will come soon, don't worry." said the soldier laughing, smacking him with the butt of his gun.

Arlington, Virginia

Governor Rodham looked over the expanse of the Arlington National Cemetery. "Today, we commemorate the lives lost to the terrorist attacks on our nation's capital." said the lady speaking at the podium. "Over 45 people were killed and another 250 injured during the attacks." she said flipping over a paper. Rodham looked behind him at the smoking, dying Washington D.C. "I'd like to give the microphone over to someone who wishes to speak on these attacks, Governor Frederick Rodham of Virginia." said the lady stepping from the podium. Rodham climbed up the podium pulling a note out of his pocket. "However brutal, barbarian, and awful these attacks were, they were not done completely in cold-blood." he said, pausing to take a breathe. "These..patriots were fighting for something that they believe in by heart and wish to make true." he said getting more serious. "But at the same time, the government cannot say they are completely innocent." he said. "The lives lost in this attack are no where near as bad as the lives lost in the recent fire-bombing Rolla, Missouri, an act that was in its essence an act of terror." he said as he stepped from the podium.

[New Texan States]

"I don't know whether to be pleased or pissed!" Jason Houston watched as CNN yet again ran the footage of the "terror attack" on Washington DC. The Smithsonian Institution had indeed been hit, but most of the damage had been to the arboretum section. The Washington Monument, however, hadn't been so fortunate.

Missiles fired from the hijacked F-16s had made hits on the middle and upper portions of the monument and another fifty feet of it had collapsed upon itself, leaving a forty-seven foot stump.

Pennsylvania Avenue looked like a war zone. Craters made travel impossible and dozens of buildings were pock-marked by .35mm bullet holes, hundreds of windows shattered. Neither the White House nor the Capitol had been damaged, but the FBI headquarters had smoke pouring from the east wing.

"Well, Jason, it has been three weeks of absolute silence from the DC government. Not a word....nothing. And the Virginia governor has admitted that the strike on Rolla was a mistake. What are they thinking?"

"Beats the hell outta me, General Crockett. I hope it signals a willingness to talk instead of an escalation of hostilities."

Houston got up and went outside into the harsh south Texas sun and watched for a few minutes the construction of The Wall. "Quite the concept you came up with, Crockett! Couldn't have done better myself!"

Crockett's design was simple: a thirty-foot high wall, twenty feet thick, guard towers every 100 feet. On the Texas side of the wall were one-story buildings that housed and fed the security personnel that would be manning the wall. On the Mexican side of the wall was the beginnings of a "No-Man's Land" a half-mile deep and running the entire length of the wall, east to west. This half-mile was to be strung with a dense forest of razor-wire and land mines. A single, narrow lane every 150 miles would be the only access points in or out of the Texan Republic from the southern nations. The top of the wall would bristle with various weaponry, primarily the .35mm chain gun. No less than 100,000 Border Security Personnel would be assigned to The Wall at rotating intervals.

The most difficult part of the construction was locating the proper workers to do the work. This entailed a massive sweep of alledgedly undocumented people. The Republic had created a new agency called "The Repatriation Corps." These were American/Texan citizens who were unemployed and needed work to pay their bills and feed their families. The money for this came from the cancellation of entitlements to the undocumented aliens.

In just six months, working 24/7, about half of the undocs, as they came to be called, were documented and categorized. Of the roughly 3.6 million undocs in Texas before the secession, 1.66 million were set to work in the building of The Wall along a 1500 mile stretch. This, of course, ran through several other states, but they were either silent about it or actively helping the effort. The idea was that those who were engaged in the construction of the wall would be given a "fast-track" towards citizenship. Part of the problem with the old US citizenship process was that it took way too long for people to complete the way to become citizens. This new method would take no more than 18 months instead of the 6-8 year, drawn out method.

There were, for certain, some obstacles the Texans had to overcome. The Mexican president was none too pleased at the incursion of what he called a Demilitarized Zone into his country. Technically, legally, he was correct. But he simply didn't have the forces to combat it. The two divisions he sent to toss out the Texan construction squads pretty much all defected to the Republic. They were now being retrained in modern military methods and used to patrol the southern expanse of the construction zone.

The other situation was the feeding and shelter of those who were freely participating in the revamped citizenship process. The wall builders were not so much a problem as they had spacious, warm, dry, and equipped bivouac tents for the duration of the construction. Water from the river and basic foods provided them all they needed. It was the other half of the undocs that had to be dealt with.

Of the roughly 1.5 million remainder, nearly 64,000 were of non-Latino origin. Middle Easterners and Africans made up 90% of this group, and not a few were found to be jihadists who had simply walked over the border and wound up in the several states. Those who were found to be sworn enemies of anything democratic were summarily executed. There would be no repeat of the disgraceful situation of Guantanamo Bay.

The rest were set to creating and caring for hundreds of square miles of new farms and ranches. The Arabs were naturals when it came to handling horses, and the Africans were provided with an agricultural education, homes, and a paycheck for the time being. When the new Republic was able, it would test all citizens-in-progress and see where they would best be of use.

But, no matter how much some people are given, there are always those who complain and protest. Theses were fortunately in the minority,no more than a thousand or so, and they were unceremoniously driven to a point ten miles into Mexico and left there.

"Yes, sir, General! I'm right pleased with this project. You figgered about two years to complete it?"

"Maybe a little less, Jason. Some of the African undocs are quite talented in the field of engineering. Don't know where they got their education, but they got ideas that'll move this along faster." Crockett looked over to Houston. "If'n you don't mind my asking, sir, what's the deal with them women in Washington?"

"Aint exactly sure, Davey. But I'm putting together a delegation that will head to DC when they give us the go ahead that they're willing to talk. Wanna be a part of it? Y'all are a plain speaking gent just like your great-great grandfather!"

Crockett looked down. "I'll think on it, Jason. I don't like the smell of that there city."

[Federated Amerika]

Texarkana, Texas

Jeremy Rose was startled awake by gunshots and the occasional explosion. "What the hell..?" he whispered to himself, rising out of the bed. "Ow, fuck!" he screamed as he fell to the ground holding his side. He looked up just in time to see a soldier bust through the door holding a shotgun. "Put your hands behind your head and don't move!" screamed the soldier shining a flashlight in his eyes. Jeremy slowly put his hands behind his head and rose to his feet. "Who are you? What is your name?!" screamed the soldier motioning the gun at him. "My name's Jeremy Rose, I'm a diplomat." said Jeremy as he rose to his feet. "Come on." said the soldier grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling him through the doorway. "Where are you taking me?" he asked cringing from his gunshot wound. "You don't need to know, you damned spy." said the soldier throwing a sack over Jeremy's head. "Your interrogation will come soon, don't worry." said the soldier laughing, smacking him with the butt of his gun.

Arlington, Virginia

Governor Rodham looked over the expanse of the Arlington National Cemetery. "Today, we commemorate the lives lost to the terrorist attacks on our nation's capital." said the lady speaking at the podium. "Over 45 people were killed and another 250 injured during the attacks." she said flipping over a paper. Rodham looked behind him at the smoking, dying Washington D.C. "I'd like to give the microphone over to someone who wishes to speak on these attacks, Governor Frederick Rodham of Virginia." said the lady stepping from the podium. Rodham climbed up the podium pulling a note out of his pocket. "However brutal, barbarian, and awful these attacks were, they were not done completely in cold-blood." he said, pausing to take a breathe. "These..patriots were fighting for something that they believe in by heart and wish to make true." he said getting more serious. "But at the same time, the government cannot say they are completely innocent." he said. "The lives lost in this attack are no where near as bad as the lives lost in the recent fire-bombing Rolla, Missouri, an act that was in its essence an act of terror." he said as he stepped from the podium.

Governor Rodham didn't so much step off the podium as much as he was pulled off by the Secret Service. Jack Tillotson had motioned to the SS detail and they quickly carried the Governor away. The next speaker took the stage, a solemn, heavily bearded muslim cleric, who stood looking at the sparse crowd for a few seconds.

"My friends, this is what happens when you give too much political freedom to the unconverted. They seem to take the law into their own hands and force their views on all!" Uzama ben Yasser hazen bin Sobah glared with all the hatred of American freedom he could muster. He had just come from the National Mosque where he'd given a strong lesson in Sharia culture to his none-too-impressed 12th graders from the parochial school next door in the National Shrine. These kids were full of the zeal of rebellion, and their inattentiveness was evident.

"We muslims have fought hard and endured much at the hands of these so-called Christian Constitutionalists who would try to deny our rights to worship as we see fit and to rule our kind in likewise manner. I've received reports that the leaders of this so-called Texan Republic are considering ridding their new nation of all of what they call "undesirables", which include the followers of Allah. Rumor has it that they will first demolish the mosques and then concentrate on any businesses that deal in hallal foods and Islamic foreign goods." He stood to his full 5'3" height.

"Is this America? Is this the freedom of expression my ancestors fought so hard for when they came to this country? Yes, we came as refugees from oppression and sought asylum. Beginning in the 80's, this government so very graciously embraced our culture and fed, clothed, and sheltered us as we settled into this land. And in the early portion of this century, we were even given small enclaves of our own in which to dispense our own laws and customs......just as we had in our sacred homeland."

He continued. "And now this is how this upstart rebellious country thanks us? By ejecting the very essence of religious freedom?"

A voice from the back of the crowd yelled, "What about the Coptic and Syrian Christians you people beheaded because they served a different God?" The little man strained to see who had spoken.

"Come, come, now! That's ancient history, no? A few lone rabble-rousers kill a few marginal Christians and everyone gets all upset!"

Another loud voice cried, "Blow it out your ass, raghead!" Half the crowd laughed, the other half became nervous.

Again, the SS headed up to the stage and formed a cordon around the speaker. And just in time as the crowd surged forward and started rocking the flimsy platform. The SS got the imam out of there as quickly as possible and none too soon as the crowd erupted into a clapping, chanting body of pro-patriot protesters.

This certainly was not the way that Jack Tillotson had anticipated the day going............

[Federated Amerika]

Alexa Tillotson drummed her fingers on the burnished ebony table, all the while staring at each of the other attendees.

"Let me tell you all something. I'm not going to go down in history as the first American president to cause another civil war. Or worse yet, a second American revolution! We are going to figure this out, to the mutual benefit of all parties, and we're going to do it quickly! The natives are restless, and they're becoming moreso every day."

Her VP, Grace Moorehead, replied, "Yes, but what do they want, Madame President? Surely we're not going to throw away over fifty years of our slow and winding road to a new society! Since the end of WWII, each and every administration, to one extent or another, has furthered the goal of social pluralism. The people of the world, I think, were finally beginning to believe that the top 1 per cent of the world's population were the ones selected by the gods to rule this planet!"

Jack Tillotson raised his eyebrow. "Gods, Grace? Really?"

She glared at him. "You know what I mean, Jack! The masses think there is a god, or even perhaps gods, but you and I know that it is the God of Self that brings us to the top of the heap. Survival of the fittest, and all that."

Alexa broke in, "Okay, enough you two. We can argue the relative merits of religion another time. Right now, I'm sure that the Texans are waiting for us to say or do something that would indicate we are willing to talk about the situation. I propose we send a delegation to Texas as a preliminary offering of peace. We won't commit to anything, nor will we suggest any sort of compromise. I think, ultimately, they'll see the error of their ways. One way or another."

"And if they don't?" Jack sat back, arms crossed.

The President of the United States stood and looked at each of her people. "Then, if they want war, they'll have it!"

[New Texan States]

"Is this for real, Jane?" jason Houston help up the memo he'd been handed.

"Yes, sir. We received it via the post just 45 minutes ago. It's amazing that it got here at all."

The note was from a small town in South Carolina from a man named Campbell. He was evidently inviting himself to meet with the leadership of the Texan Republic. The note was worded in such a way as to pique Houston's interest.

"He seems to be inferring that he and his people can help us in our quest." Turning to Gen. Crockett, he asked, "What do you think?"

Crockett looked over the memo. "It don't hurt to talk to the man, I reckon."

Houston told Jane, his secretary, to get a reply to this guy as soon as possible. "Sir", she said, "He and a couple of his people are already on their way. On horseback. Over the old trails."

"Do tell. Did he give an arrival time?"

"No sir. I'd imagine you'll see him when you see him."

[United States of Unfreedom]

Unknown Location, Presumably Texas

Lights slowly came back to Jeremy's eyes, very very bright lights."What is your name?" said a very deep-voiced man through a speaker. The sound was almost deafening and the lights..blinding. "My name is Jeremy Rose." he said with a cringe. "Why are you here?" said the man. "To deliver a message, what don't you understand about that?" said Jeremy. "To who? You don't look or sound like anyone from around here." said the interrogator. "Your president, governor, whatever his title is." she said. The lights suddenly turned off, leaving him stunned there for about five minutes. He could hear a few men talking through the, what he assumed, two-sided mirror. "I don't think he poses us any threat but......a message to the president." said a man. "Throw him in a cell while you're at it too." he said. "Make sure you don't tell him where we are located, now get moving." said the man as two soldiers trotted in and grabbed Jeremy.

Norfolk, Virginia

"Shhh..don't move." said Brandon, the "leader". "Let the soldiers pass." he said to the two other men. A small patrol of soldiers walked passed them, chatting about the secession and on-going hostilities. "Come on, hurry!" whispered Brandon loudly as he ran behind a large warehouse. "There she is, the USS John F. Kennedy, they just completed her last year." he said to the other men. "Yeah, I heard my dad talkin' about it, he's a real navy junky." said one of the other men. "You still got the C4?" asked Brandon. "Right here." said the other man, adjusting the black bag thrown over his shoulder. "We're planting it in the mid of the ship with a five minute detonator, so we will HAVE to move quickly." said Brandon. "Now, let's go strike for freedom." he said jumping into the water below him. The three men slowly swam over the the huge aircraft carrier. "Start placing it." he said, taking the bag on his shoulder off. He unzipped it and pulled out a couple of thermite charges. He watched as the many explosives on the side of the ship blinked brightly. "We should get out of here, this is right over the main reactor so there will be an enormous explosion." he said. The three men made there way out of the naval base just in time to see the Norfolk night sky be brighten up like a firework.

[Tarlag]

Angus Campbell and a dozen other men rode through the night in the old two and a half ton truck. Each man cradled a black rifle locked and loaded. Angus sat in the cab next to the driver. "Willie, Are you sure the Texans will meet with us?"

The Black Man who was driving smiled. "When a unit of ex SAS wants to talk people tend to listen. Besides Angus, Folks are lining up to join the cause back in Greenville. John has got over ten thousand names signed up for the First Southern Free Militia."

Angus looked out the window into the darkness. "I just see Kent all over again. The First Stuart Guard Vs the Gurkha Regiment. Half trained civilians fighting Mercenary killers house to house. I know their President needs to be tought a lesson. I just don't want good folks dying to be the price for that lesson."

"Angus, Kent was not on your head. Your withdrawal from there saved lives on both sides. It was Bloody Beths fault for releasing the Gurkha in the first place. You did what you thought was best for Scotland. Now you need to do what is best for our adopted country."

Angus rubbed the three days of growth on His chin. "Your right Sergent Major, as always. We will press for the cause of freedom where ever we find it."

The old green truck stopped at the Texas Boarder checkpoint and hour later. Lights shown down on the truck and the men in it."

A Texas national Guardsmen steps up on the trucks running board. "What is you business in Texas Gentlemen?"

Willie sticks His head out the window and replies. "Major Angus G. Campbell late of the British Special Air Service wishs to meet with your leadership."

[New Texan States]

Major Campbell and a handful of others from the old truck were escorted to the front entrance of the courthouse. They were stopped by a half-dozen big Texas Rangers carrying AK-47s. "What business do you have in the capitol?" shouted one of the guards.

The men escorting answered for the easterners. "Sir! These are representatives of the Southern Free Militia, sir! Here to see Mr. Houston, sir!"

The Ranger gestured. "Enter!" But when the group moved to go through the door, the Ranger said, quietly, "Just you two for now, eh?"

Angus and Willie walked down the hall and were shown a closed door with a small plaque on it that said "Conference Room." One of the Rangers knocked twice, and the door opened from the inside. A middle-aged secretary grinned and said, "Welcome, gentlemen. We've been expecting you. I'm Jayne Martel, Mr. Houston's aide. Please come in and have a seat."

Angus and Willie sat down next to each other and looked around the room. Paintings of various famous Texans and former US presidents hung on the walls and there was a couple of decanters of what looked like bourbon on the table.

Another door banged open and Jason Houston walked in followed by General Dave Crockett. "Gents, welcome to Texas!" He pulled a couple of Cuban cigars out of his breast pocket and laid them on the table in front of the men. "Help yourself to the whiskey. We 'aint got servants here."

After a couple of minutes as the four lit their cigars and sipped at the whiskey, Houston said, "OK, now what's your story? And don't leave out any details. I've got all the time I need to hear you out."

[New Texan States]

Three F-16s locked their radar on the large helicopter being escorted by three US Airforce jets. The Texan pilots tensed up a bit when they saw how the US aircraft were armed and their thumbs hovered over the toggle switch that would arm their rockets.

"Texas aircraft, this is Colonel Bob Granger of the United States Air Force. Be advised that we will be entering your airspace in seven minutes. The copter is headed for your capitol for discussions about the situation. We will break off our escort in ten minutes. Acknowledge."

"US aircraft, this is Capt. A.B. Hill of the Republic of Texas Air Defense Force. We read you loud and clear. We will pick up escort of said helicopter in eight minutes. Hill out."

Right on time, the three US jets veered off and turned back east. The Texan fighters fell into formation around the helicopter. In just 27 minutes, the helicopter would be landing at Bush Airfield just outside of San Antonio and the reps of the American government would be driven to the capitol building.

Perhaps history would be made, and perhaps it would be made peacefully.

Perhaps not.

[United States of Unfreedom]

Unknown Location, Texas

"Damn it, let me out!" shouted Jeremy through the bars of the cell to a guard as he walked by. "At least tell me where I'm imprisoned!" he shouted again. The guard quickly turned and came up to Jeremy. "Look, if you'll shut up and keep quiet, I'll get you outta here." said the guard walking off. "Hey, come help me with this prisoner for a second." he heard the guard say in the distance. The guard walked back with another guard. "Go in there and get 'em." said the guard who was helping Jeremy. The other guard slowly unlocked the cell and began to walk in, when suddenly the guard pulled out a suppressed M1911 and put a bullet right through the back of the man's skull. "Get his gear and put it on." said the guard to Jeremy, motioning towards the dead guard. Jeremy reluctantly slipped off his garb and put on the prison guard outfit. "Now come on." said the guard running towards the end of the hall. Jeremy followed suit, running to the end of the hallway. "Patrol 3-A, how're things in the west wing?" asked a voice over the guard's radio. "All clear, most of the prisoners are asleep." said the guard. "A humvee?" asked Jeremy as the two men walked up to a jeep. "Yes, we've gotta get out of this compound somehow." said the guard, hopping into the drivers seat.

Jeremy got into the passenger seat and closed the door. The two men rode through an area of thick trees with a small dirt road cut between them. "Up here is our ticket out of here." said the guard pointing to the large barbed-wire fence ahead. "Whatever you say, you've got the gun." said Jeremy shaking his head. "Stop, what're leaving for?" asked a sentry at the gate. "Going to pick up another prisoner in Houston." said the guard. "Alright, go on, good luck." said the sentry opening the gate. "Thank you." said the guard driving through the checkpoint. "My name's Terry by the way." said the guard. "My name's-" started Jeremy. "I know your name, Jeremy, my wife told me." said Terry. "Your wife?" asked Jeremy. "Melody? You were in our house when you got arrested." said Terry. "Wow." said Jeremy. "Where are we going?" asked Jeremy. "Houston, Texas." said Terry throwing the radio out of the window as it began to speak about a dead guard in the west wing.

Sandston, Virginia

"It's a beautiful sight, isn't it, Governor?" asked General Jack Lee. "It sure is, general, you've done a fantastic job with our militia." said Governor Rodham. "35,000 men is a lot better than our previous 7,500." said Jack. "That it is." said Governor Rodham as lines of young men in Virginia Militia uniforms marched by in unison. "We're receiving thousands of recruits every day." said the Jack. Jack leaned up to the microphone in front of him and began to speak. "What is our duty?" he yelled over the microphone to the militiamen marching by. "To serve and protect under any means necessary!" thousands of men yelled in unison. "Why are y'all here?" he asked. "To end government tyranny!" said the militiamen. "What will we accomplish?" he asked. "We will do what our forefathers could not and lead our state to victory under any means necessary!" the men yelled. "I like what you've done here, General." said Governor Rodham with a sly grin. "Much obliged, Governor." said General Jack walking off the stage.