Revolt and Reset

[Alaskan Columbia]

..Yellow Knife, Canadian Wilderness..


"Good fuckin' thing it's summer! I'd hate to see it here when it's cold!" Steve Jirkkin wrapped the blanket around him a little tighter. The fire did little to alleviate the chill temperature.

"Stop complaining! You coulda been posted up to Alert!" Alert was the northernmost town on Ellesmere Island, the largest landmass of what was now being called Seperation, the newly created region where enemies of the state were sent.

"How far east our boys got this week?"

"We got a HQ in Yellow Knife and the general figgers we be all the way to Hudson Bay in less than a month. Dawson and Whitehorse back towards Alaska already full of soldiers and the first airstrip been built. Heard tell it's a bomber squadron."

"Ever seen the work them Pythons, Boas, and B-3 bombers get done?"

"Yeah, a cousin sent me some pics of what's left of Detroit and Chicago. Looks like President Haley really wants to start from scratch!"

Points along Hudson Bay were actually being surveyed as they spoke. Haley and her army chiefs wanted the Bay to become a major naval base with Marine and Seal bases all along it's perimeter. Once taken, the eastern shore of Hudson Bay would be right on the border of Ontario. Reports told of a rebel force massing there, renegade troops of Canadian army regulars who wanted complete freedom from both the Canadian and American governments.

"You reckon Haley will fight 'em?"

"Maybe. But there's also talk about letting the rebel military forces form their own government and take control of all of eastern Canada. I heard they even want to call it the Free Quebecois Union. Or some such thing."

"Yeah, as long as they 'aint commies I reckon there wouldn't be a problem with letting them be. The Prez don't have any patience with them commie-globalist-progressive tree huggin' types."

"That's fer damn sure! And I hear there's a group out Frisco way attacking the liberal police forces. Most of them are Latinos who been given sanctuary anyway."

"Aint nothing wrong with people wanting to be free to live their lives honestly and safely. Long as it's done legally."

"Well, since the wall been built, the illegals 'aint gettin' any reinforcements. San Francisco can't hold out forever against the Patriot mercs."

"That's fer damn sure."

An officer came in and barked, "If you ladies are done yammering, you need to get your asses out there and post watch! Now fucking move!"

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Laredo, Texas, at the Southern Border Military Base..


"This is the American News Network coming to you live from Texas where in just a few minutes, President Nikki Haley will be addressing the nation." It was hot, even under the over-hang where the news people were assembled. A sudden murmur began and all eyes turned to the presidential podium.

President Haley walked to the podium and shuffled a few papers, then looked up. "Fellow American Patriots. We're down here in Laredo today for some announcements concerning the retaking of our Constitutional government. I wish to start with taxpayer money, specifically welfare and other so-called entitlements." She located the sheet she was looking for and continued. "Effective immediately, all recipients of welfare checks, food vouchers, Wick-coupons, and low-income housing will be re-examined according to new guidelines established by our Constitution and our current economic situation."

She continued. "As you know, today, nearly 46% of people in this country, both citizens and illegals, are receiving entitlements in one form or another. No doubt in my mind that there are those who are in genuine need. The elderly, the disabled, and those currently in between jobs. The help we give these people is legitimate and will continue. But what is not generally known is that those who really need help are just 7% of the population. That leaves a staggering 39% of entitlement recipients who are able-bodied, healthy, and competant to work in some capacity. Hundreds of millions of dollars are given to people who return NOTHING to America. They just sit on their butts and take, take, take. This ends today!"

"I don't care what these people have to do to earn a living. But from now on, you don't work, you don't eat! You don't work, you cannot buy anything! You will work for your paycheck. And if the job we place you in is not to your liking, you will be given a choice. Work, or be transported to one of our detention areas either in Puerto Rico or the North Pole. There, you will be housed, and fed twice per day. Bread and water will be your primary sustinence. You will be able to grow crops and raise animals for your consumption in Puerto Rico. At the Pole, your'e out of luck."

"Today, all illegal drugs such as marijuana, heroin, cocaine and other opioids are banned from America. Anyone found in possession or under their influence will be sent to Seperation, no questions asked. Doctors will be required to be extra vigilant when prescribing certain drugs, correctly ascertaining their necessity to their patients."

She paused for a moment. "Effective today, homeless people will be removed from the streets of our nation and given all the help they need to get their lives straightened out. They will be housed for 90 days at a time until such time as they are able to work and provide for themselves. It is a disgrace that nearly 30% of all homeless on the streets are American veterans. We will be changing that situation quickly. In addition, begging, pan-handling, and passing a hat for sidewalk performers are as of today forbidden. The help that the homeless will be getting will apply to street-people as well."

Haley grabbed the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, this disgraceful situation has gone on long enough! The greatest, most powerful, and most prosperous nation on Earth should not have people living and begging in the streets. These are human beings---American human beings! And if the cause of their homelessness is drugs or alcohol, this will be addressed as well. The cartels of central and south America will no longer have customers here in the United States. Plans are presently being formulated to strike these filthy predators where they live. Any bank found laundering their blood-money will be closed and their executives executed."

"One last thing. I had mentioned that the United States would be streamlining processes in a more meritocratic manner in the future. I am not at this time ready to roll out these plans, but within the next 30 days, I will be making a major announcement concerning income inequality. No, I'm not talking about socialism. I'm talking about what is fair and just for all Americans. Thank you,and God Bless America!"

[The Shadow Soldiers]

..New York City, 23rd street..


He was still bleeding heavily as he entered the abandoned building. The plan had worked fairly well until the damned SWAT team showed up. The fire-fight left all of his people dead or wounded except him and Floyd. He didn't know where Floyd was at the moment, but he had to get out of sight before the police found him. It wouldn't be hard with the blood-trail he was leaing.

A movement caused him to turn. Floyd said, "So, you made it out alive. A bit worse for wear, I see."

Jorge was both angry and grateful that Floyd had survived. "You okay? Been hit?"

"Just a couple of shrapnel scratches. But you bleeding like a stuck pig."

Jorge looked down. His bloody hand was still clamped over the gaping wound in his side. "Really just a flesh wound. No major arteries. Help me bandage it." In a couple of minutes, the blood flow lessened, but the thick padded bandages were starting to show seeping blood stains.

"You need to get that stitched up, bud. You gonna bleed to death otherwise."

"Yeah, well, I can't just stroll into a hospital, y'know. I'm going to have to do it myself as soon as it lets up."

Floyd asked, "So, we done good? Courthouse blown up? Judges dead?"

Jorge nodded. "Far as I could tell, most of the front of the courthouse caved inand around fifty people buried under the rubble. Don't know the extent of the interior damage, but we hurt 'em good. Them damned Patriots will remember this day for a long time!"

Floyd grinned. "So now what, chief? We hang around here too long and we be in Guantanimo tomorrow. If we live that long."

Jorge smiled. "What...you wanna live forever? We done our part for global communism. Now we need to stay hidden until we're needed again."

"Haley and her commanders are gonna level New York trying to find us. Where we gonna hide?"

"She won't do to New York what she did to our brothers in Detroit and Chicago. We need to get to Jersey down to the Pine Barrens. No one will find us there. We'll rest up and in a couple of months we can be ready for the next assignment."

They both looked up as they heard the police sirens go by the building, then fade away. Jorge realized he was sweating.

"We wait until nightfall, then we'll creep across the river and find our way south. With luck, we'll be in the cranberry bogs in a week."

Floyd looked closely at him. "I'm gonna tell you right now, you hold me up, I'm leaving your ass. Bleeding like you are will ead them right to us."

"Do what you gotta do. If we're seperated, I'll meet you outside Elmer."

Floyd nodded. "Gotcha. Good luck."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..The skies above Mexico and Columbia..


"Group commander A1-A to all units. Destination target in twenty minutes. All units proceed to assigned target areas within nation."

Col. Ned Newsome smiled grimly. This action was decades overdue. "All commanders, this is Col. Newsome. All B1Bs, Pythons, and Boas are to hit and run. We have seventeen heavily forested, mountainous areas where the operations are run from. All A1-B, A1-C and B1-A units proceed to Mex-targets 16, 22, and 57. All others will hit targets in Colombia. The president wants 'em all destroyed."

"If by chance any foreign aircraft come to try to intercept, all F-16s will engage and destroy. Don't be surprised if they send up them old Migs from the 60s."

"When your payload is gone, shift it into high and hi-tail it back to Laredo. Let the diplomats take the fall-out."

Thirteen minutes later, dozens of poppy fields and coca-plants were going up in smoke. It was estimated the over 600,000,000 dollars of product was destroyed by the napalm bombs. It was unfortunate that numerous fatalities occured in the immediate area of the blasts, but the cartels had to be eliminated. It was not a final solution, but it would set the drug trade back several years. And if the offending narco-states didn't curtail drug activities, the president vowed to declare war on them. She considered illegal drugs to be an act of war against the US, and only war would would stop the traffic.

Her exact words were something to the effect that if they didn't cease and desist, she wanted to see if they could deal drugs in a stone-age economy..............

[Sarrazin]

..Pine Knot, Missouri..


Strelnikov downed his third ounce of vodka, grimacing at the taste. "These fucking Americans call this shit vodka. High proof bath water." He threw the glass across the room.

"Sir, the commanders in Arkansas report readiness capabilities. Proceed?"

Strelnikov thought for a moment. "Are the Beast Divisions in Missouri ready for a coordinated effort?"

"Yes sir. Three squads of six in Cape Giradeau. Three squads of six in Clinton, Arkansas."

"Targets pin-pointed?"

"Yes sir. Each squad prepared for tactical nuke in three cities. to include St. Louis, Branson, and Cape Giradeau. In Arkansas, West Memphis, Little Rock, and yet-to-be-named site on the Texas border."

"Beast Squads in the forest areas of Kentucky and Indiana?"

"Yes sir. One hundred ten in Missouri, seventy in Arkansas. Additional units in Georgia, Tennesee, and North Carolina. Hit-and-run, in-and-out."

Strelnikov nodded. "Very well. Inform the Cape Giradeau Commander that I will be joining them one hour before ignition of the bomb. St. Louis will be first, followed by Branson fifteen minutes later. One half hour after I leave Cape Giradeau, the dirty bomb will be activated." He paused, pouring another shot of vodka. "We'll see how that bitch in Washington reacts. Hopefully, we'll be starting a civil war."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Camp David, Maryland..


President Nikki Haley sat on the porch, a damp towel over her face, enjoying the cool breeze. She wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just the several dozen things that had popped up in the past 48 hours. The usual: various Congressmen and Senators needing appointments to discuss various legislation, favors sought, crises evolving. The usual.

She heard footsteps behind her. "What is it, Jane?"

"Madame President, we have a situation. Several situations, in fact." Jane never called her by her formal name when alone. Haley sat straight up.

"Okay, Jane. Out with it."

Jane was visibly shaken. "Nikki, there's been dirty bombs set off in several cities. Small, but lethal. Small enough to cover just four city blocks, but big enough to kill thousands and topple some buildings."

Haley was not a woman to be easily shaken, but all the blood drained from her face. When she managed to compose herself, she asked, "What do we know. What do we need to learn."

"Ma'am, St. Louis and several other towns in Missouri and Arkansas have been hit. Best estimates are thousands dead and wounded. No one has claimed responsibility as yet."

"Not quite accurate, Jane." The women turned to see General Mack Thompson walking onto the porch. "An organization calling itself the Democratic Socialist Workers Front has contacted news centers claiming responsibility."

Haley frowned. "The DSWF. Where have I heard that before?"

"Their common name is The Beast Division. Sworn enemies of anything patriot. They are far and away more terror-oriented than the jihadists, the communists, or the anarchists. They have their own belief system, and that system tells them that they are the saviors of the world and that any who oppose them must die. World domination is the ultimate goal."

"Belief system? You mean it's a religious thing?"

"You could say that, Madam President. Their savior, a person named simply Strelnikov, is held up as the epitome of the Hindu god, Kali, the goddess of destruction. This goddess, along with the god Shiva, are the Hindu entities who are to issue in the 10,000 years of enlightenment according to the Upanishads."

Haley said, "You seem to know a lot about Hinduism, General."

He smiled. "Remember, Madam President, that Sun Tzu reminds us that all strategy is based on deception. If we consider ourselves followers of Jehovah, then we know that hate and destruction is not part of his plan. Therefore the ultimate enemy, Lucifer, is behind these attacks."

She eyed him shrewdly. "Hmmm, well, yes. If you say so, General. What are we doing about the situations on the ground?"

"Six squadrons of F-16s have been scrambled to give us air superiority should the need arise. Since several of the targets have been on or near the Mississippi, Admiral Jones has deployed sixty FABS from St. Louis to West Memphis."

"FABS...fast attack boats."

"Yes, Ma'am. Our Spec-Ops people are already en route to all points to ascertain and capture the enemy."

"You don't think they're still in the area, do you?"

"Unknown, but it's as good a place as any to start."

Haley stood. "General, I want this group eliminated and that Strelnikov brought to me. Preferably alive. Order all necessary support to the stricken areas. I need two divisions stationed between St. Louis and West Memphis and all points in between. Do not skimp on medical or humanitarian efforts. Get the Seals and Delta Force on the asses of these fucking Hindu rebels. You're dismissed!"

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Belleville, Missouri..

President Haley took a thorough look at the devastation in St. Louis. Both the hi-effect binocs she used and the orbital images told her that it was worse than she imagined, though not as bad as far as bombs go. What she saw were four to six city blocks in various states of destruction with hundreds of bodies laying in the streets, few covered in white sheets. The sports stadium where the Cardinals played was all but destroyed, the entirety of the Florissant district with it's factories and trucking depots leveled. The Mississippi was littered with debris.

"General, I need to get closer. These people need to see me there in support of them."

"Madam President, even though the dirty bombs are of a minimal radioactive count, I cannot let you in that area just yet. It's hot, and a threat to you. Our people are there, rotating out every three hours to minimize the threat of contamination. It'll be at leat a week before anyone can enter the areas afflicted."

Haley looked grim. "What's being done to find this so-called Beast Division, General? Any leads?"

"Lots of leads, Ma'am, but nothing concrete. We know Strelnikov was in the area just before ignition, but where he is right now is anybody's guess."

"I know whaere he is." They turned to see Frank Talbot walking towards them. The President said, "Who allowed this person in here? My orders were that no one be allowed without my express permission."

Talbot smiled. "C'mon, Nikki. You know you can't keep me away." The president flushed for a moment and stammered, "Alright, Mr. Talbot, what information do you have."

"He's in the suburbs of Nashville. Lebanon, I believe. It's an area of deep forests, a lot of places to lie low for a while. He's there with about twenty followers. All heavily-armed mercenaries. Trained killers. And he's paying top dollar for them to keep him alive."

"So why aren't you there, Talbot? Surely the US Army is superior to any mercs?"

Talbot looked at the general with a pitiful look on his face. "Pardon me, General, but these mercs are the cream of the crop. Any one of them are the equal of three of ours. We could attempt an all-out frontal assault, but we'd lose 3/4s of our team getting to Strelnikov. And there's no guarantee that he'd be there once we accessed his turf."

Haley asked, "So what do you suggest, Talbot? We just give up and let him go?"

"Not at all, Madam President. Me and two of my best men will infiltrate the area and take him out. All tree of us are qualified kill-experts at one-half mile ranges. One of us will get him. Then we can mop up."

"How long?"

"Nine to ten days, Ma'am. Half that time will be spent getting there and digging into position. That asshole pokes his head up, and we'll put a bullet in it. Guaranteed."

Haley glanced over to St. Louis off in the distance, then said, "Do it, Mr. Talbot. Do not fail. You will have the country's ever-lasting gratitude."

He smiled at her. "How about your gratitude, Madam President?" He noted her blushing. "We'll see, Mr. Talbot, when you return with this asshole's head on a plate!"

[President Steven Seagal]

..Walnut Creek, California..


"Commander, what you're suggesting is damn near impossible."

Stillone looked impassively at the corporal. "Son, hard is doable. Impossible takes a little longer. You got a better plan?"

The plan he was referring to was a launched attack from Alcatraz Island onto the main docks of San Francisco, namely Fisherman's Wharf. No one would ever suspect an attack on a regular place like that. The wharf would be occupied quickly, whatever minimal security units neutralized in mere minutes. It was the next part that was worrisome.

"So, sir, what you are saying is that just thirty men will land on the docks in four rubber rafts, armed to the teeth,and subdue all resistence on the Wharf. And then we move quickly to the media stations and city hall to take control of the airwaves. Tell me....what about the police? They'll just stand by and let it happen?"

"Probably not, corporal. But they'll die protecting their commie over-lords. Once we have control of the airwaves, our Patriot Militias from the north in Petaluma and the south in Oakland will converge to points in the center of Frisco. Anyone, and I mean anyone, in the way will be eliminated. San Francisco will fall to the Patriots in less than two hours with minimal loss."

Corporal Stillwell nodded. "Sounds good, Commander. Our people are ready to die for our country."

Stillone looked over to Stillwell. "Lemme tell ya something, Corporal. Victory isn't dying for your country. Victory is causing the enemy to die for theirs. Never forget the difference."

[Sarrazin]

..A cavern deep in the woods around Lebanon, Tennessee..


"Sir, you know they're out there, don't you?"

Strelnikov peered through the dense smoke in the cave. "Who the fuck are you? Don't you see I'm busy?"

The scout looked with distaste at Strelnikov. He thought, 'So this is the man who wil bring down the reactionaries?' He looked at the bleery eyes of the man, and the naked woman in his lap. "Sir, with all due respect, they' re going to kill you and the rest of us unless we move out now!"

"Move out where, pal? You don't think they'll eventually hunt us down? We did our job, and I would suggest you grab another one of the whores, take a hit on this pipe, and enjoy your last precious minutes on this earth."

In response, the scout turned on his heel and left the cave, signaling to his men. "C'mon, let's get outta here. That crazy fuck is already dead in his mind. We'll head south east and meet up with some friendlies in Alabama or Mississippi. We can hunker down for a while and then strike again in a few months." He'd just finished speaking when a bullet slammed into his temple spraying blood and brains on those behind him.

As he crumbled to the ground, the rest of his men scrambled, hugging the cavern walls. It really didn't do much good. Two more men dropped, the explosive rounds blowing half-dollar sized holes in their torso.

"C'mon men. Only chance we have is to make a run for it." The remaining men ran for the cover of the trees. All were cut down in seconds.

Some few minutes later, Frank Talbot and two of his people, Tom Hanna and Elvira Sutton, followed. He walked almost casually into the cave where Strelnikov lay prostrate, nearly unconscious. Talbot looked at the women who were in similar condition and gestured to his snipers. They each leveled their weapons and put a bullet in the heads of the women.

"Well, well, so this is the legendary Strelnikov. Destroyer of cities. Do you have any idea what's in store for you, boy?"

Strelnikov was just conscious enough to realize he was in deep shit. "Do tell, Mr. Talbot."

How do you know my name, boy?"

"No one else could have found us this quickly. My compliments. Now either kill me or let me kill myself."

"Heh, no way, boy. You're going to Washington in chains. If I know the President, she'll have you drawn and quarted on the steps of the Capitol. My suggestion will be to cut off your hands, feet, and balls and leave you in a cage in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue. We'll keep you alive and in pain for weeks. Like the radioactive victims of the cities you bombed."

"I need to talk with Haley."

"You 'aint gonna be able to do that, boy." The woman sniper stepped forward and with an unexpectedly swift motion pulled her kabar knife while the other man pried open the rebel's mouth. As the man grunted in abject fear, she reached the blade into the back of the man's throat and neatly sliced off his tongue. The man squirmed in pain, blood pouring from his open mouth.

"Now, that's just the beginning, boy. By the time we get to DC, you'll wish to God that you never seen me. Haley will finish the job...."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Outside Detroit, just north of Romulus Airport..


The smoke combined with the stench of rotting flesh gave the reporters a vivid and very real picture of the situation in the greater Detroit area. Ove three hundred representatives of numerous news venues were present for the president's speech. Not all were friendly to Haley's policies, and were there to simply spin the events of the Detroit battles in the worst possible way.

As she stepped to the makeshift podium, she took a minute to look around at the assembled reporters and media reps. Smiles for some, frowns for others.

"My fellow American Patriots, we are here on the outskirts of the great city of Detroit, Michigan. This once-great city, the hub of the automobile industry for decades, had fallen into a state of near-anarchy and third-world status. Thousands of long-settled families that were the back-bone of our proud and prosperous manufacturing systems left this city for greener...and safer...pastures. I won't bore you with the gory details, but the influx of illegal migrants, criminal drug elements, and the nefarious spectre of the Sharia culture left this city a mere ghost of it's former glory. Whole city blocks succumed to the ravages of a welfare state that rewarded indolence and arrogance with just enough money to keep the populace drugged and subject to socialized programs that sucked the life out of the good people of Detroit."

Haley paused, then contiued. "I will cut to the chase. We have, in the past three weeks, leveled most of the infrastructure of greater Detroit. Buildings have been demolished, roadways torn up in order to re-pave them with new and improved materials. All of the former so-called shooting galleries have been leveled, the slums slated to be replaced with businesses that will employ the formerly unemployed masses. How can we do this?"

A holographic image about thirty feet high by forty feet long flashed behind her. "Previous administrations had the means to employ AI technology to improve American citizens lives. It was not introduced because of perverse political deals that kept the populace in financial chains. Simply put, in less than 36 months, the entirety of this city will be rebuilt under the auspices of the Army Corps of Engineers using the very latest AI robotics and droid parameters. The bots can work arounfd the clock, 24/7, at six times the speed of humans. They don't tire, nor do they need to be fed. All the roads, residential buildings, and factory-industrial structures will be up and running in record time. There will be work for everyone and anyone who wants to work."

Again she paused. "But, hear me right now. All welfare and entitlement programs, except for a small, deserving minority, are hereby abolished. Ninety-three percent of the American population can...and will...perform some sort of work for the paycheck they receive. I've said it before, but it bears repeating: you don't work, you don't eat. Those who refuse to work will be remanded to a work camp...period."

"I wasn't going to mention this today, but I'll give you all an idea of what we in the government have in mind for the economic future of this country." Haley pulled a sheet of paper from her briefcase.

"This country will remain a Republic. A government elected by the people that will conform to the dictates of our Constitution. I am also going to introduce what may be called a meritocratic addition to our way of life. Basically, only two things are needed for humans to live: food and shelter. Everything else are wants. I am going to introduce a bill to Congress that will provide every working American Patriot with a set salary that will be more than enough to live a comfortable life without the worry of having enough to pay monthly bills. All housing, food, and utilities will be paid by the Treasury. Each person will be paid a set amount of money, tax free, for any minor wants they may have as well as a requirement that a set percentage of their paycheck will be set aside for their retirement years. Which, by the way, will commence at age 55. Our citizens should be young and healthy enough to enjoy their retirement years."

"Health care will be provided at 100% of all costs, no matter what is needed. Whether you need a prescription for aspirin, or major brain surgery, you will be taken care of by the best and most talented doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel this country has to offer. The cost? Each citizen pays just 500 USD per year for their enrollment. That's less than 50 USD per month."

"I'm sure many of you are wondering how this meritocratic system will work. And to be truthful, we are still working out the fine details. But be assured, all citizens will have what they need to live comfortable and fruitful lives. No longer will we have CEOs giving themselves ten-million-dollar bonuses while their neighbors are living in poverty. No longer will we have those who are not qualified filling posts that others would better fill. We will have a qualifying system of who-can-and-should-do-what job. No more career politicians. No more tenured teachers. The bottom line: you do a good job, you reap the benfits. Ypou slack off, or worse, illegally cause difficulties, you will be removed from that job, prosecuted, and either banished to Seperation, or executed. Depending on the severity of the crime."

The President smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen, behind me you see thousands of AI tech units readying themselves to get to work. In just three years, cities like Detroit, Chicago, Gary, Portland, Los Angeles, Boston and even New York City and San Francisco will be flourishing centers of American ingenuity." She lowered her voice conspiratorilly. "And just to let you all know, there will be greater opportuities both north of our traditional borders and south of our borders. No longer will America be subject to the opinions of foreign governments. Excuse my language, but if they don't like what we're doing.......fuck 'em! My predessor started the phrase "America First!" I intend to carry that sentiment out to it's fullest! Thank you, and God Bless the United Meritocratic States of North America!"

[President Steven Seagal]

..Walnut Creek, California..


"Commander, what you're suggesting is damn near impossible."

Stillone looked impassively at the corporal. "Son, hard is doable. Impossible takes a little longer. You got a better plan?"

The plan he was referring to was a launched attack from Alcatraz Island onto the main docks of San Francisco, namely Fisherman's Wharf. No one would ever suspect an attack on a regular place like that. The wharf would be occupied quickly, whatever minimal security units neutralized in mere minutes. It was the next part that was worrisome.

"So, sir, what you are saying is that just thirty men will land on the docks in four rubber rafts, armed to the teeth,and subdue all resistence on the Wharf. And then we move quickly to the media stations and city hall to take control of the airwaves. Tell me....what about the police? They'll just stand by and let it happen?"

"Probably not, corporal. But they'll die protecting their commie over-lords. Once we have control of the airwaves, our Patriot Militias from the north in Petaluma and the south in Oakland will converge to points in the center of Frisco. Anyone, and I mean anyone, in the way will be eliminated. San Francisco will fall to the Patriots in less than two hours with minimal loss."

Corporal Stillwell nodded. "Sounds good, Commander. Our people are ready to die for our country."

Stillone looked over to Stillwell. "Lemme tell ya something, Corporal. Victory isn't dying for your country. Victory is causing the enemy to die for theirs. Never forget the difference."

It took longer than two hours for the plan to work, but work it did. Fishermans Wharf was shutting down for the night when the commandos struck, swiftly eliminating the security guards and taking control of the two city blocks along the water. Ninety minutes later, the Petaluma units surrounded City Hall and the Oakland teams secured the southern portion of central San Francisco. In effect, the city was in the hands of the Patriots.

Commander Stillone tapped his commpin. "Okay, gentlemen. We're down to the last obstacle in the retaking of this city from the liberal globalists. We have 65% of the media outlets shut down and the banks on lock-down. The local police precincts are either neutralized or have come over to us. All that's left is the occupation of city hall. The mayor is in there along with most of his associates. Now, I don't want anyone hurt or the building itself damaged any more than necessary. I've sent a couple of our people into the building to try and talk some sense into Mayor Fareed. They have instructions to exit the building at 2200 hours. At 2215 hours, if the Mayor has not exited and/or surrendered, our forces will assault city hall. We know that there are minimal security units there, mostly state police. If they fiire on us, we will retaliate. Commanders who are heading up the assault are ordered to attempt to capture as many as possible, but dead or alive, we will bring those people out." He looked at his chrono. "Okay, it's two minutes to 10:00. In seventeen minutes all units will proceed to points within City Hall. Shoot if you have to. I want Fareed alive to face charges of treason against the American people. He's former Iranian Revolutionary Guard Spec-Ops, so be prepared for a fight. The rest of his foreign-born associates are assumed to be ready and able to defend him and their way of life."

At 2200 hours, the advance team of negociators came out of the front door of City Hall at a dead run, shots being fired from within the building. The "thumbs down" sign was given, and fifteen minutes later the assault began in earnest.

Thirty-seven minutes later, after several fire-fights and numerous explosions, the flag of the United Social-Democratic Republic of California was lowered atop City Hall and the flag of the United States of America was raised. Men started coming out of the exits of the building carrying wounded, both Patriot and socialist. Minutes later, a dozen body-bags were carried out and lined up on the front sidewalk.

"Sir, I wish to report that San Francisco City Hall has been captured and occupied by Patriot Militia Forces of California. We have six wounded, none dead. Enemy has surrendered. California State Police have laid down their weapons and are presently being sent to interrogation centers. As far as we can tell, none of them fired upon us."

"The Mayor?"

"Mayor Fareed is alive, sir, but in bad shape. He took several bullets and received shrapnel wounds. He's being treated on the spot before being transported to the hospital. Medics give him a 50-50 chance."

"His Islamic associates?"

"Four are dead, three slightly wounded. They fired on our troops but were no match for our boys."

Stillone hesitated for a moment, then said, "Have our media people set up their equipment and then bring the Islamists out. I will address the nation for a couple of minutes, and then we will execute the traitors."

"Aye, sir. At once!"

It had been a good day. All of California from the northern border with Oregon down to Oakland were now free of foreign globalist influence. Stillone knew that this operation was but a preamble for the real fight: the retaking of the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area from the gangs and drug lords. Though the former administration had made great strides in reducing the criminal element in southern California, there was still work to be done.

Making America great again was about to enter another phase. One that would settle once and for all who it was in charge of the country.....the citizens, or the elitists?

Time would tell..................

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Oval Office, DC..


"Dave, who is it we have in charge up in Alaska and down in Texas?" President Haley stood looking out at her rose garden.

"Madame President, a couple of guys named Charles Norris and Joe Rockford have assumed command of what they are calling Alaskan Columbia. Norris is number one, Rockford number two."

"Ah yes. They've appropriated the better part of western and central Canada."

David Limbaugh grinned. "Well, appropriated is one word you could use. More like they beat the shit outta any resistance as their forces pushed east."

"And our provincial governors have made contact with them?"

"The north-central provinces have sent out feelers, Ma'am. It's unknown if Norris and Rockford have responded."

"And Texas?"

"Terry Hodges, ma'am. Comes from a long line of Texas Rangers. A no-bullshit kinda guy. Heads up a bunch known as Amerikan Militias. About 350 well-trained, well-armed former military types. They patrol all along the border."

"Once the wall is complete, we'll need to find something for them to do."

Limbaugh hesitated for a moment, then replied. "Ma'am, my sources tell me that both the Alaskans and the Militias are mostly comprised of Spec-Ops people and some of the best snipers in the world. They could be used in the move against LA and perhaps even farther into Mexico and Central America."

"Didn't we just eliminate the poppy fields down there? What need for specialists then?"

"Ma'am, first off, there will always be someone to kill, something to destroy in those shithole countries. They're like cockroaches. They reproduce almost as fast as you kill them."

"So basically your'e telling me that the United States should send mercs out to cause chaos and terror in foreign nations."

"Um, not exactly how I'd put it. That's unconstitutional. But if we had foreign influences seeking to infiltrate and negatively infect our way of life, we have a duty to cut those influences off before they get started."

"Sort of a policy of pre-emptive planning?"

Limbaugh said, "If, Madame President, you are truly a Constitutionalist as I believe you are, you have to provide for the common defense of this country as you swore to do. Quite honestly, I don't know how any enemy could get past this wall and all it's defenses. But it could theoretically happen. Cutting off a snake's head eventually causes the snake to die. A well-placed bullet or two from a half-mile vantage point will save American lives. It's as simple as that."

Haley sighed. "It's never as simple as that, Dave. The reputation this country had since the 60s is one of interference in the affairs of foreign governments. Our Constitution forbids entanglement in foreign affairs." She looked back out over the rose garden. "I'll have to think this over, Dave. As much as I want to kill all who oppose us, we need to be above board when doing so. We can't regress back to the days of the corrupt and consciousless administrations of 1990 through 2016. I'll let you know my decision next week."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

On the Misisssippi River, New Capitol Province..

"You wanna run that by me again, Captain?" President Nikki Haley stood looking out at the chaos that was the construction of the nation's new capitol. Bots and humans were swarming over the entire area doing what they were required to do to get this city established in thirty-six months.

Capt. Josh Sevill said, "Madame President, there is a group of independant militia-mercs in the Rockies that have established themselves as Watchmen. That is to say that they are a hyper-religious, Biblically based group of armed citizens who do not rely on the resources of your government to keep America safe and, as they say, holy. They have no official name, but are known as Cauchemar. A French word meaning "nighmare". As far as we can determine, they number roughly a thousand fighting units, men and women, which includes support personnel."

Haley thought for a moment. "And...they're a problem...why?"

"They are not under our jurisdiction, Ma'am. They carry out operations based on their understanding of the Constitution and the Bible. Mostly, it appears, the Old Testament. Eye for an eye, and so on."

She grinned. "And your problem, Captain?"

"Why, Madame president, they are outside our control! They operate under their own rules."

She looked at him silently, eyebrows raised. He got the message.

"Ma'am, if your'e comfortable with unregulated, heavily-armed citizens acting as an essentially vigilante group, then I guess I have no further words to say." He was clearly upset at her lack of concern for what he considered a group of outlaws.

She looked down, then said, "Capt. Sevill. Have they caused us any problems? Have they kept their area free from enemies?"

"Well, yes they have. But are they subject to our laws?"

"Do they follow our Constitution? Do they adhere to the freedoms of the Declaration of Independance? Do they acknowledge the governance of Almighty God?"

"Apparently, Ma'am."

"Then I ask again.....what is your problem? These citizens who dedicate themselves to the protection of our Union against foreign ideologies shoud be admired, not suspected. Do they have all the resources they need?"

"Well, here's the sticky point, Ma'am. For the most part, they conduct their raids on subversive groups using the medieval weaponry of swords, axes, battle-knives and compound bow and arrows. They do have modern weapons such as Beretta 9mm pistols and AR-15s, but our intelligence tells us that they are in short supply. These modern weapons are used only when absolutley necessary."

"Do we know why?"

He sighed heavily. "It seems that they are in possession of two former missile silos in the Rockies, one just north and one just south of Patriot Point, Wyoming. The ICBMs are still intact, though in stasis. However, the arsenals are chock-full of military-grade weapons, as well as years of MREs, medical supplies, and IT capabilities. The people are essentially a tribal unit. They hold all things in common, and are united by God and our laws. They have successfully fought against the forces of the four leftist administrations after Reagan for decades with little or no problem. And they use non-modern methods to do so."

"Crossbows, no doubt. So, again I ask, Capt. Sevill, what is the problem? What is the downside to this situation?"

"Ma'am, they are allied with what could be considered indigenous groups such as the Melungeons, who are the direct descendants of the original settlers from Ireland, Wales, and Scotland in the 1700s. They are also allied with native American tribes. They do, in effect, control the entirety of the Wyoming, Utah, Montana, and Idahoan Rocky Mountains."

Apparently, they are French in origin, no?"

"You could say that,Ma'am. Cauchemar, in French, means 'Nightmare'. They deem themselves as nighmarish units to all who come against Constitutionally-governed lands. They have been known to kidnap and execute Muslims, Communists,and globilist bankers. Six of these people were found just six miles north of here last month, strung up by their heels, throats slit."

"Yes, I read about this. Unfortunate that they did not see things our way. The Canucks can be brutal folks."

"So what do you want to do about these Cauchmar people, Ma'am?"

"Nothing, Captain. Send for their leaders. I want to talk to them. And while your'e at it, gather the tribal chieftains together. The Blackfoot, Apache, Apache, Cherokee, and so on. It's time we made amends for the terrible treatment they received over the past 200 years."

[New Wyoming Territory]

..Afton, Wyoming..


"Spring's coming, Hannah." Josiah Button sat by the fire warming his hands. It was still a chilly 33 degrees in the foothills of the Rockies, but a few of the aspens were showing buds on their outer limbs.

"Yep, and none too soon, Jo. Been a long cold one this year." Hannah Button sat wrapped in her buffalo-hide blanket, feet toward the fire. "I reckon this year we can build us a cabin and move outta this here teepee, eh?"

Josiah asked, "You sure you wanna do that, Hannah? No tellin' what the Council will decide about us and our folk. We may have to move up higher, mebbe up near the Yellowstone."

She shook her head. "Nope. I heard tell that our people are gonna stay put right here. Enough of them militia-types up in the mountains already. Council needs to start thinking about the lowlands. That President Haley is doin' a right-good job getting rid of the commies. But the refugee commies may start showin' up in these parts. Hell, Chicago and Detroit are all but leveled, what criminals that 'aint been killed are headin' west and south. Council 'aint gonna let 'em come out this way, that's fer sure."

Josiah and Hannah were mid-level operatives in the group of hyper-patriotic militants known as the Cauchemar. That wasn't their official name, and not all of them were happy about the tag. Cauchemar was French for "nightmare", and while it was true that the enemies of the union saw these folk as nightmares to their culturally-inferior way of life, the militants didn't want the country to think that what they did to preserve Constitutional government was nightmarish. It was anything but.

"Them criminals and commies got no place here. This is God's country. 'Aint no drugs or Islam coming here. Not while I'm alive." Josiah glanced over to the teepee. "Reckon your right, Hannah. We can build us a fine cabin right over there near the creek and the trees. Plenty of oaks and ash around." He stood, cradling his AR-15. "Let's go into town and see what's what, eh?"


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Afton, Wyoming was the regional operations center for central-west Wyoming. It included a section of Idaho as well. The Council didn't pay much attention to borders, but rather grouped areas of training into provinces. The primary job of the Council was to keep the greater Wyoming territory free from any and all foreign influences. Crime statistics were very low, mostly due to the strict policy of zero-tolerence.

The official name of the roughly 1500 people that made up the de-facto government of the Wyoming Territory was The Liberty Council. They were, in theory, part and parcel of the American Patriot government headed up by President Nikki Haley. But most of the people felt that Haley didn't go far enough with her non-tolerence policies.

The militias of the Liberty Council trained constantly. All citizens from the age of twelve were active parts of the movement. All received tactical training in weaponry. medicine, and other support mechanisms. And they were required to attend church twice weekly. All LC personnel were sworn in using the tried and true method of swearing an oath with their hands on a Bible.

Judge Randolph Colbert looked the Buttons up and down. "So, you two want to settle permanently in this area? Okay, I don't see a problem with that. Our range of protection includes the southern portion of the Rockies on down near to Utah and west into Idaho. We have just 22 people at this point to cover this area. You'll both be a welcome addition to this unit."

Josiah and Hannah thanked him, then Hannah asked, "Judge, what's this we're hearing that the President wants some of us to come to DC? For what?"

Colbert hesitated, then said, "She's apparently given us her stamp of approval. We may not always agree with her, but she trusts us to do the right thing. And she has it in her mind to include as many of the tribes as want to go."

Josiah rubbed his chin. "That's a right wild bunch, Judge. 'Aint but a handful got a head on their shoulders."

"Yes, that's why I'll be selecting one or two from each tribe personally. This country did the native Americans wrong 200-plus years ago, and it's time to begin to make things right with them. I don't know how far Haley wants to go, but it's a start, After all, they were here before we Europeans got here."

"'Aint that the truth. When does Haley wanna do this?"

"She's talking six-to-eight weeks from now. Depending on whether the new capitol buildings are ready down to Missouri or not. But, DC will do. Never been there myself."

Hannah grinned. "Yeah, us neither. Be nice to see it before it becomes a museum."

The judge asked, "So you both will be doing all the work on the cabin?"

"Yep, and while we're at it, we gonna put up a barn and some fencing. We're here for the long haul."

"Good for you. But don't forget your scheduled days of militia training. Not to mention church."

"Not a problem, Judge. We'll get it all done, right and proper."

[Sarrazin]

..On the Nebraska-Wyoming Border..


The refugees were weary. They'd spent the better part of four months crossing the vast distance between Detroit and the plains. Nebraska had been especially difficult. Mile after mile of nothing other than corn and wheat fields. It was not so bad when the sun shone, but the thunder storms and bouts of hail were difficult to endure. Now here they were in Kimball, Nebraska, facing a hostile border=crossing.

"Listen, Pedro, you 'aint got papers,you 'aint crossing the border. Simple as that." The guard stood ready, Colt .45 pistol in hand. He was backed up by three other heavily-armed men in the black and grey uniforms of the Liberty Council Militia.

"Sir, with al due respect, my name is Peter. And we've walked all this way to find a friendly refuge, free from danger. We started out as seventy-four. We lost thirty along the way. Mostly women and children. And as you can see, there are still more children who are hungry and sick. Can't you find it in your heart to help us?"

"Careful, soldier. They've been using this bleeding-heart tactic for decades. Don't be suckered into letting these criminals into Wyoming." Lieutenant Karl Ritter spoke quietly, but all the guards heard him. The guard said, "As I said, Paco, no papers, no entry."

Peter's shoulders sagged. "No one did much more for us than to give us bread and water on our trek across all those states. Why can't you help us?"

"Because it's against the law, that's why. For far too many years, our laws were pushed aside in the name of humanitarian aid. That's how 12 million illegals got into America. 'Aint happening no more." The guard cocked the Colt. "Now....git!"

Peter looked behind him at the group of refugees and nodded. With a swift move, he and a half-dozen other men pulled guns and knives from hidden places in their clothing. Before any of them could move forward or pull a trigger, the border guards opened fire.

Barely forty-five seconds later, all refugees bearing arms were either dea or severely wounded. With a motion of his head, the lieutenant moved forward to see who was left as the medics tended to the wounded.

Lt. Ritter spoke to the very frightened women. "Ladies, we are truly sorry that we had to do this, but we have the task of defending our borders. I am authorized to feed you and clothe you. I would suggest that after you rest that you start walking south to Colorado. There are people there who will take you in."

"Muchas gracias, senor. Colorado is a sanctuary state?"

Ritter grinned. "For now, ma'am. For now."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..East 23rd St., NYC..


Through swollen lips, Igor mumbled, "You think you people are going to get away with this? You kidnap one of the Mayor's staff and you think no one will come after you?"

The top floor of an old brick building in the Chelsea section of Manhatten had been used as a safe-house for the small number of Patriots in New York for several years. Apparently, Chelsea being so close to the Village and financial centers of the city was not considered an intelligent spot for anti-progressive forces.

"Why Igor, we've already gotten away with it. Your'e here, no?" Sal Damato waved to a woman who brought over a glass of water for the prisoner. "Here, you must be thirsty after all that screaming." He held the glass to the lips of the bloody-faced man and watched dispassionately as he drank. "Better now? Good. Now, all you have to tell us about is the Mayor's two scheduled speeches on Thursday. Then....we'll let you go."

Igor managed a smile, then said, "Fuck you, asshole. You fucking dinosaurs are through here in New York. Manhatten, Long Island, North Jersey, and southern Connecticut are firmly in the liberal camp. There's nothing you can do to stop our agenda!"

It was Sal's turn to smile. "Yeah, that's what the tree-huggers in San Francisco said last month. Theyr'e all dead now, fed to the sharks in San Francisco Bay. Some of them were alive when we tossed them in."

Igor blanched and once again struggled against the duct tape holding him to the chair.

"And now, my liberal friend, Los Angeles is about to experience a very rude awakening. We figure just by rounding up the remnants of the gangs, the bookies, the druggies, and the corrupt Hollywood bigshots that we'll make the reclamation of LA 50% easier. Not to mention the arrest of all the liberal-commie politicians who will ultimately be executed as traitors to the Constitution." Damato tossed the glass to the woman and continued.

"The thing you globalists failed to understand is that you pushed the average, hard-working, tax-paying middle class too far. I don't have to go into detail....you know exactly what pushed their buttons. Forcing everyone to accept any and all perverse sexual identification, the 2% of industry execs getting 55% of the revenue, and allowing the influx of foreign nationals into America without proper vetting. Now there are a half-dozen Islamists in Congress who refused to take their oath of office on the Bible. For me, that was the last straw. You can fuck the people all day long, but when you mock God, you're playing with fire."

Igor's eyes glazed over. "What has this to do with me?"

"Well, you and your corrupt bunch are just the east coast version of the west coast globalist systems. Your people's days are numbered. This time next month, City Hall will either be a smoking ruin, or the people in it will be dead or deported to Seperation. The one at the North Pole. Two weeks after that, the United Nations building will be completely evacuated of all foreigners and completely renoveted to house the Eastern Province HQ. In addition, all embassies in the 77th street area that are hostile to the US will be liberated. Those resisting will be dealt with accordingly."

Igor knew he was going to die. "So, if you assholes have all this figured out, why do you need information about the Mayor?"

"Because we're going to capture him alive. After a short trial, he will be executed on Live TV. Maybe along with others. At that point, the military will temporarily assume governmental control of the city until at which time the President assigns a permanent Provincial Governor. So, again.....what are the Mayor's specific plans?"

"Will you let me go if I tell you?"

"No, but I promise I will not harm your family, and I will kill you quickly and painlessly. Either way, you are going to die."

Igor began to speak, and in short order, Sal put two .32mm bullets in the man's head. Being of small caliber, they rattled around inside Igor's skull for a couple of seconds before he ceased breathing.

"Okay, people. You heard the man. Set up assault vectors at 44th street and 42nd street. Two snipers each location. Thursday's the day New York City reverts back to the nation."

[Sarrazin]

..On the Nebraska-Wyoming Border..


The refugees were weary. They'd spent the better part of four months crossing the vast distance between Detroit and the plains. Nebraska had been especially difficult. Mile after mile of nothing other than corn and wheat fields. It was not so bad when the sun shone, but the thunder storms and bouts of hail were difficult to endure. Now here they were in Kimball, Nebraska, facing a hostile border=crossing.

"Listen, Pedro, you 'aint got papers,you 'aint crossing the border. Simple as that." The guard stood ready, Colt .45 pistol in hand. He was backed up by three other heavily-armed men in the black and grey uniforms of the Liberty Council Militia.

"Sir, with al due respect, my name is Peter. And we've walked all this way to find a friendly refuge, free from danger. We started out as seventy-four. We lost thirty along the way. Mostly women and children. And as you can see, there are still more children who are hungry and sick. Can't you find it in your heart to help us?"

"Careful, soldier. They've been using this bleeding-heart tactic for decades. Don't be suckered into letting these criminals into Wyoming." Lieutenant Karl Ritter spoke quietly, but all the guards heard him. The guard said, "As I said, Paco, no papers, no entry."

Peter's shoulders sagged. "No one did much more for us than to give us bread and water on our trek across all those states. Why can't you help us?"

"Because it's against the law, that's why. For far too many years, our laws were pushed aside in the name of humanitarian aid. That's how 12 million illegals got into America. 'Aint happening no more." The guard cocked the Colt. "Now....git!"

Peter looked behind him at the group of refugees and nodded. With a swift move, he and a half-dozen other men pulled guns and knives from hidden places in their clothing. Before any of them could move forward or pull a trigger, the border guards opened fire.

Barely forty-five seconds later, all refugees bearing arms were either dea or severely wounded. With a motion of his head, the lieutenant moved forward to see who was left as the medics tended to the wounded.

Lt. Ritter spoke to the very frightened women. "Ladies, we are truly sorry that we had to do this, but we have the task of defending our borders. I am authorized to feed you and clothe you. I would suggest that after you rest that you start walking south to Colorado. There are people there who will take you in."

"Muchas gracias, senor. Colorado is a sanctuary state?"

Ritter grinned. "For now, ma'am. For now."

The border guards gave the remaining refugees enough food and water to get them to Colorado where the bleeding-heart types would welcome them to the pot capitol of the United States. They'd be placed in tents until they could be ssimilated into the welfare systems of the state financed by the taxpayers of Colorado.

As the border guards watched them trudge off south, they were unaware of the two refugees that had stayed behind, some fifty yards east of the border. Armed to the teeth, they waited until the guards went back to their positions in Wyoming. Then they quietly headed back east to a position 400 meters in a thick copse of aspens. There, they ate cold beans and drank from the cold mountain stream nearby.

"So, comrade. Now what?"

"Well, we can't go forward and we sure as hell aren't going back. We have to go either north or south."

"Norht's no good. Winter is coming, and we don't want to be north of here when the snow and ice hit."

"So I guess it's south. But we can't follow the women. We'll be picked off in no time by them damned Patriots."

"Yeah, we'll have to walk at night staying on the old Indian trails. It'll take twice as long to get to Ft. Collins, but we'll get there with little or no problem."

"Got enough ammo?"

"Yeah, we can gett more once we arrive at the fort. Our people are strong down that way. 'Aint no Yankees in the way."

"Not right now, but I heard that the President has ordered the west-coast militia and those tribesmen from Wyoming to occupy points south of Denver. Colorado Springs is gearing up for a fight."

"Can we hold them?"

"Well, the militias rolled right over northern and central California, Nevada has been reclaimed by the Patriots, and anything in Arizona, New Mexico,and Texas are firmly in the hands of the US Army. Basically all we got left is Colorado, Missouri, Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, Vermont, and New York City. What progressives are lft in most states are either changing sides or been banished to the Pole or Puerto Rico."

"The European Union can't send help?"

"They're in far worse shape than they've ever been. Since the Donalsen administration, the sanctions have bit deep into their economy. Russia and China in the same boat. Only the Greater Israeli Territories are flourishing."

They looked at each other. "We need to decide whether we fight or surrender. Looks like Haley gonna win."

"Well, ;et's get to Ft. Collins first, then worry about what may or may not happen."

Little did they know it had already happened......................

[The Shadow Soldiers]

..New York City, 23rd street..


He was still bleeding heavily as he entered the abandoned building. The plan had worked fairly well until the damned SWAT team showed up. The fire-fight left all of his people dead or wounded except him and Floyd. He didn't know where Floyd was at the moment, but he had to get out of sight before the police found him. It wouldn't be hard with the blood-trail he was leaing.

A movement caused him to turn. Floyd said, "So, you made it out alive. A bit worse for wear, I see."

Jorge was both angry and grateful that Floyd had survived. "You okay? Been hit?"

"Just a couple of shrapnel scratches. But you bleeding like a stuck pig."

Jorge looked down. His bloody hand was still clamped over the gaping wound in his side. "Really just a flesh wound. No major arteries. Help me bandage it." In a couple of minutes, the blood flow lessened, but the thick padded bandages were starting to show seeping blood stains.

"You need to get that stitched up, bud. You gonna bleed to death otherwise."

"Yeah, well, I can't just stroll into a hospital, y'know. I'm going to have to do it myself as soon as it lets up."

Floyd asked, "So, we done good? Courthouse blown up? Judges dead?"

Jorge nodded. "Far as I could tell, most of the front of the courthouse caved inand around fifty people buried under the rubble. Don't know the extent of the interior damage, but we hurt 'em good. Them damned Patriots will remember this day for a long time!"

Floyd grinned. "So now what, chief? We hang around here too long and we be in Guantanimo tomorrow. If we live that long."

Jorge smiled. "What...you wanna live forever? We done our part for global communism. Now we need to stay hidden until we're needed again."

"Haley and her commanders are gonna level New York trying to find us. Where we gonna hide?"

"She won't do to New York what she did to our brothers in Detroit and Chicago. We need to get to Jersey down to the Pine Barrens. No one will find us there. We'll rest up and in a couple of months we can be ready for the next assignment."

They both looked up as they heard the police sirens go by the building, then fade away. Jorge realized he was sweating.

"We wait until nightfall, then we'll creep across the river and find our way south. With luck, we'll be in the cranberry bogs in a week."

Floyd looked closely at him. "I'm gonna tell you right now, you hold me up, I'm leaving your ass. Bleeding like you are will ead them right to us."

"Do what you gotta do. If we're seperated, I'll meet you outside Elmer."

Floyd nodded. "Gotcha. Good luck."

..The Hurry Back Inn, Elmer, NJ..


Jorge and Floyd sat in one of the corners of the tavern, backs to the wall. Jorge had arrived Tuesday, Floyd a couple of days later. Floyd said, "I see your'e not doing too bad, eh? A bit of a limp but otherwise alright?"

"Yeah, was touch-and-go for a couple of days. Fuckin' wound wouldn't stop bleeding. Found me a veterinarian who stitched me up. It's all good now."

"Veterinarian? Could be a problem if we're identified."

"Nah. She 'aint identifying anyone with a bullet in her forehead."

Floyd asked, "You see them two big guys across the room? I think theyr'e trouble." Jorge glanced quickly, then said, "Could be. But your'e more than a little suspicious about anybody, Floyd. Even if they are Patriots, we got the jump on 'em." He fingered the Beretta 9mm under his arm.

Floyd nodded. "Yeah, reckon your'e right. Seems to be a lot of strangers in south Jersey these days. Hard to tell good guys from the bad guys." Southern New Jersey, due to it's proximity to New York City and Philadelphia, was a haven for anarchists, liberal-progressives, communists, and other malcontents. There had even been a cadre of juhadists discovered in an army base just to the west of Elmer.

"Any news? How are our people doing?"

Jorge shook his head. "Haven't heard much, but I have heard is that we're losing ground. Only a relative handful of states still clinging to democratic-socialism. Berniey's dead, the Islamist representatives removed from office as traitors. The west coast people have skipped the country leaving all but Los Angeles in the hands of the Patriots. With the build-up of military along the border and the militias to the north, it's just a matter of time before LA succumbs to the Constitutionalists."

"We still got the hard-heads up in New England, no?"

"Yep, but they 'aint necssarily liberals. 'Aint conservative neither. They just want to be left alone to live as they see fit. Pretty much like what's left of the Canadian government."

Floyd nodded. "I heard that them Canadian Seperatists have contacted the French government and asked it to recognize the Republic of Quebec."

Jorge grinned. "Might be a good place to hide out, eh? 'Aint no such thing as a French Republic. France is more or less a socialist nation. Equal rights for all, tree-huggers, hyper-tolerant culture."

"Maybe your'e right, Floyd. We can't be sittin' round here too long waiting for orders. Might not be anyone issuing orders. Might could be the leadership is dead or in prison."

Two chairs scraped along the floor, the big strangers standing up and stetching. They were similarly dressed in grey shirts and BDU-type jeans, long grey over-coats reaching down to their knees. Jorge and Floys barely had time to react as the two pulled shotguns from their coats and headed towards them.

Floyd got two shots off before a shotgun blast nearly cut him in half. He slumped against the blood-spattered wall, innards spilling onto the slippery floor.

Jorge was more successful. He dove to the floor and ripped off several shots, both of the grey-clad men falling to the floor with bullets in their legs. Jorge managed to scramble to the back door of the tavern, running out at top speed to the heavily-forested area surrounding the tavern. He didn't stop running for over a mile when he stopped, gasping for breath. He sat quietly, listening. After a long time, he gathered himself together and started walking north.

It was a long way to Quebec, and he'd have to find a way across the border undetected......

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Seperation, Arctic Province..


The wind howled, sending the thick, wet snow flying horizontally across the tundra. Artic Tower N13 sent it's routine report: nothing to report.

"Damn! A real howler tonight, eh?" Corporal Ed Sheeran sipped at his coffee, shivering despite the 70 degree temperature inside the tower,

"You got that right. I almost feel sorry for the prisoners." Sheeran glanced at his partner Corporal Nick DeMuro. "I said almost. Them shacks and yurts 'aint gonna keep them warm very long."

"It's a fucking prison, Nick. Not a fucking country club. And besides, they 'aint going anywhere. They're here for the duration. "Aint no time off for good behavior."

Seperation was one of two centers for enemies of the state. The worst of the worst were sent here to live out their lives in a frozen wilderness of ice and snow. The prisoners were fed twice daily, bread, water, and a bowlful of hot vegetable soup. They were free to roam wherever they pleased within the triple-fenced-in area of incarceration. They had a few books and magazines, but no television or internet.

Cpl. DeMuro said, "Y'know, I'm aware that the fences around this area are impenetrable. But just in case, what happens if someone escapes?"

Sheeran laughed. "In that improbable scenario, where the fuck they gonna go? There's nothing but 225 miles of snow, glaciers, and polar bears. And with either the perpetual night or 24-hour daylight, they wouldn't last twelve hours before they're half crazed with sense deprivation. Nah....nothing to worry about, partner."

There were thirty-two towers surrounding Seperation, all just outside the inner wall of steel reinforced concrete and razor wire. The second and third walls were similar, the space between the towers laced with land mines. Like the man said....even if a prisoner managed to get through all three walls, where would they go?

"This place is filling up fast! Damn near forty thousand state enemies already. We're gonna need to expand soon."

DeMuro shook his head. "From what I'm hearing, the President is going to issue an order to increase executions. Basically, if your'e bad enough to be sent here, your'e bad enough to be executed. I heard that over half of what we got here are slated for elimination. She wants to keep the population at no more than 20,000. with that number decreasing over the next two years to less that 5,000."

"And what about Seperation South?"

"All we hear is that the entirety of the Puerto Rican Islands have been turned into a network of farms where the prisoners work the land to feed themselves and the population up here. They got metal bands around their necks that have been saturated with a nano-explosive. One false move and they lose their heads. Pretty effective. Only been a handful of the assholes tried to escape. Fed what was left of 'em to the alligators and sharks."

Sheeran glanced at his chrono. "We got just three more days up here then we rotate down to the states for R&R. Then a month in Sep-South."

DeMuro nodded. "That president's got a head on her shoulders. Each team of about sixty guards rotate into Sep-North and Sep-South and then they're done. Two months of that shit is enough for anyone. Then we pick up the fight in the states. Still got a few commie-liberals to kill."

"And what's this I heard about them tribal militias up in the Rockies? They for real?"

"No telling, but from what I hear it's a good thing they're on our side. Deadly bunch of killers. And religious fanatics on top of that. God help the Islamist that they capture. Crucifixion is what I hear. That or they burn 'em alive."

Sheeran laughed. "I wonder how them virgins in Paradise like their new hubbys well-done!"

[New Wyoming Territory]

..Afton, Wyoming..


"Spring's coming, Hannah." Josiah Button sat by the fire warming his hands. It was still a chilly 33 degrees in the foothills of the Rockies, but a few of the aspens were showing buds on their outer limbs.

"Yep, and none too soon, Jo. Been a long cold one this year." Hannah Button sat wrapped in her buffalo-hide blanket, feet toward the fire. "I reckon this year we can build us a cabin and move outta this here teepee, eh?"

Josiah asked, "You sure you wanna do that, Hannah? No tellin' what the Council will decide about us and our folk. We may have to move up higher, mebbe up near the Yellowstone."

She shook her head. "Nope. I heard tell that our people are gonna stay put right here. Enough of them militia-types up in the mountains already. Council needs to start thinking about the lowlands. That President Haley is doin' a right-good job getting rid of the commies. But the refugee commies may start showin' up in these parts. Hell, Chicago and Detroit are all but leveled, what criminals that 'aint been killed are headin' west and south. Council 'aint gonna let 'em come out this way, that's fer sure."

Josiah and Hannah were mid-level operatives in the group of hyper-patriotic militants known as the Cauchemar. That wasn't their official name, and not all of them were happy about the tag. Cauchemar was French for "nightmare", and while it was true that the enemies of the union saw these folk as nightmares to their culturally-inferior way of life, the militants didn't want the country to think that what they did to preserve Constitutional government was nightmarish. It was anything but.

"Them criminals and commies got no place here. This is God's country. 'Aint no drugs or Islam coming here. Not while I'm alive." Josiah glanced over to the teepee. "Reckon your right, Hannah. We can build us a fine cabin right over there near the creek and the trees. Plenty of oaks and ash around." He stood, cradling his AR-15. "Let's go into town and see what's what, eh?"


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Afton, Wyoming was the regional operations center for central-west Wyoming. It included a section of Idaho as well. The Council didn't pay much attention to borders, but rather grouped areas of training into provinces. The primary job of the Council was to keep the greater Wyoming territory free from any and all foreign influences. Crime statistics were very low, mostly due to the strict policy of zero-tolerence.

The official name of the roughly 1500 people that made up the de-facto government of the Wyoming Territory was The Liberty Council. They were, in theory, part and parcel of the American Patriot government headed up by President Nikki Haley. But most of the people felt that Haley didn't go far enough with her non-tolerence policies.

The militias of the Liberty Council trained constantly. All citizens from the age of twelve were active parts of the movement. All received tactical training in weaponry. medicine, and other support mechanisms. And they were required to attend church twice weekly. All LC personnel were sworn in using the tried and true method of swearing an oath with their hands on a Bible.

Judge Randolph Colbert looked the Buttons up and down. "So, you two want to settle permanently in this area? Okay, I don't see a problem with that. Our range of protection includes the southern portion of the Rockies on down near to Utah and west into Idaho. We have just 22 people at this point to cover this area. You'll both be a welcome addition to this unit."

Josiah and Hannah thanked him, then Hannah asked, "Judge, what's this we're hearing that the President wants some of us to come to DC? For what?"

Colbert hesitated, then said, "She's apparently given us her stamp of approval. We may not always agree with her, but she trusts us to do the right thing. And she has it in her mind to include as many of the tribes as want to go."

Josiah rubbed his chin. "That's a right wild bunch, Judge. 'Aint but a handful got a head on their shoulders."

"Yes, that's why I'll be selecting one or two from each tribe personally. This country did the native Americans wrong 200-plus years ago, and it's time to begin to make things right with them. I don't know how far Haley wants to go, but it's a start, After all, they were here before we Europeans got here."

"'Aint that the truth. When does Haley wanna do this?"

"She's talking six-to-eight weeks from now. Depending on whether the new capitol buildings are ready down to Missouri or not. But, DC will do. Never been there myself."

Hannah grinned. "Yeah, us neither. Be nice to see it before it becomes a museum."

The judge asked, "So you both will be doing all the work on the cabin?"

"Yep, and while we're at it, we gonna put up a barn and some fencing. We're here for the long haul."

"Good for you. But don't forget your scheduled days of militia training. Not to mention church."

"Not a problem, Judge. We'll get it all done, right and proper."

..The Oval Office, Washington DC..


Josiah and Hannah Button stood looking around, wide-eyed with wonder. Here they were, right in the center of the US Presidient's web of power. Most, not all, Presidents that had occupied this office had been true Patriots, Constitutionalists and their policies still held to this day nearly three hundred years after the American Revolution. Paintings of these Patriots hung on the walls of the Oval Office as well as other parts of the White House. Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, and Ronald Reagan still walked these hallowed halls, their patriotic spirits almost tangible.

A door opened and President Nikki Haley entered the office with two of her aides. She smiled and said, "Welcome, everyone. I am so very glad that you are here today. Today will go down in history as a memento of our efforts to right the wrongs done in the past."

She walked over to several Native American and shook their hands one by one. "I'll make this simple so as to cut through the excess verbiage usually connected to such legislation." She pointed over to a wall-sized map of the US. "You'll see that I have redrawn large portions of the central and western portions of our country to show them now in the capable hands of various tribes. I've made a big effort to assign these redrawn portions back to the original tribal nomadic hunting grounds. I naturally cannot give up areas where our military bases and support facilities are located. They are vital to the defense of our nation."

Turning to a couple of tribal chiefs of the eastern regions, she continued. "Gentlemen, I'm sure you can see that I have had to be more selective in the assignment of your ancient lands back to you. Please understand that I cannot give back Manhatten Island to you." Smiles all around, she said, "But what I can and will do is do all possible to allow you to regain your lands in the Appalachians, north to south. And those who are native to our southern areas will be given oversight of their traditional lands as well."

She moved to her desk and sat down, indicating that those assembled should do the same. After they were all settled, Haley said, "In addition, I plan to award you all monetary damages based on the amount of treachery you received at the hands of our government in the past. I realize that money is a poor substitute for a horrific attitude towards our First Nations citizens. But it's a start."

"I have ordered that all of the reservations you were forced to occupy are to be renovated using Native Americans as the primary workforce. All who help in this endevor will be highly recompensed for their work."

Chief Dan George raised a hand and asked, "Recompensed? You mean paid?"

She nodded. "Each and every Native American who works in the renovation of their lands will receive a starting salary of $50,000 per year with bonuses built in for efficiency. We figure the reconstruction will take at least ten years, but no matter how long it takes, you will receive this money in exchange for your efforts. In addition, none of your people will be required to pay taxes on their property, and will pay just a flat income tax of 2%. This will be money used to maintain a higher level of living for all of you. You will, of course, be subject to the laws of the United States as are the rest of the country. Break the law and suffer the consequences."

Chief Homer RedWing asked, "And our hunting grounds? Will those of us who wish to revert to our ancestral ways ofliving be allowed to roam where we need in order to survive?"

She nodded. "Within reason, of course. It is unfortunate that many of your hunting lands now have large cities on them. You cannot hunt in Dallas or Kansas City. But as long as you use your head and your good common sense, you will be able to be free to live your lives as you see fit as long as you do not harm another citizen in that pursuit."

Josiah Button stood and spoke. "And what of us, Madame President? We of the Liberty Council believe much of what you and the Patriots believe, but we've been in the Rocky Mountain region for a couple of generations now. We have settlements and we live our lives a bit different than most Americans."

Haley smiled. "To say the least, sir."

Josiah continued. "Our central governors have given a lot of us permission to acquire lands and build on those lands. They are without exception unoccupied lands and they all serve to protect the Rockies and the immediate areas surrounding them from, shall we say, less than acceptable elements."

Haley narrowed her eyes. "If you mean by unacceptable elements anyone who disagrees with your specific lifestyles, I cannot and will not tolerate this. We are all citizens of the United States. We are not sequestered from one place because some may not live as others do. As long as our citizens obey our laws and follow the Constitution, all are to be treated equally."

It was not exactly the answer that the Buttons wanted, but they had been instructed by Judge Randolph Colbert not to argue either politics or religion. It was enough, for now, to be able to settle the Rockies and grow their population. Josiah nodded and sat down.

The President looked from one person to the next. "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for coming today. I will be sending representatives to further explain what we've talked about today. In addition, I will have all of the materials necessary for the first renovations of your lands to arrive in less than one month. These materials are being assembled as we speak and will be transported to your territories. None of this will cost you anything. All you will be responsible to do is see that the construction starts immediately and that it progresses in an acceptable manner."

She stood, signaling the end of the meeting. Smiling, she added, "Please enjoy your stay here in Washimgton. I believe you have a couple of more days here. I've instructed our payroll officiels to grant you free access to all monuments and museums. Your hotels are also on me. Enjoy, and God Bless America."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Ground Zero Harbor, Lower Manhatten..


As the USS Davis sailed into the harbor, all eyes were on it's massive guns. The battleship was escorted by a phalanx of destroyers and missile ships, and rumor had it that the nuclear sub USS Adams was coming up the Hudson. Admiral Ryder headed up the delegation that was to welcome the task force to Manhatten. The President was originally supposed to attend, but she was in south Texas for the ground-breaking ceremony of the Marine base just west of Laredo.

"Admiral, today's reports." Ryder took the sheaf of papers and noted with satisfaction that the ringleaders of the rebel-led protesters had been arrested and charged with insurgency. The protesters, mostly ex-felons and anarchists, had built up a large following that had established an occupation of the area in front of the judicial building near Ground Zero. These "protesters" had spray-painted leftist slogans and pried up some of the old cobblestones laid by the Dutch back in the 1700s and hurled them at the riot police teams. That was when the police received the order to protect the judges and nullify the protesters with all force deemed necessary.

The occupation had been cleared in just over twenty-five minutes. The occupiers had been given a single warning to disperse and eight minutes later when they refused, the police opened fire, killing a dozen, but wounding hundreds that had been wounded in the lower extremities. The demonstration had collapsed with the wounded being dragged off to hospitals and mass arrests by the police. Within 24 hours, the bulk of the former protesters were being transported to The Circle.

Reporters approached the Admiral. "Admiral Ryder, your reaction to the excess actions of the police against the protesters at the courthouse!"

Ryder grimaced. "Excess? The criminals had been warned that they were in violation of President Haley's new law pertaining to the parameters for peaceful protests. They had no permits, they were defacing and destroying governmental and private property, they were assaulting law enforcement, and there was looting by the opportunisitic elements of minority residents. They were properly warned, and then they were properly shot. What excess are you referring to?"

"Isn't that more than a little heavy-handed? After all, they were unarmed, unable to defend themselves against lethal force. Amnesty Global has condemned the actions of the police."

The Admiral laughed. "Amnesty Global? You mean the commie punks who are against God and Country?" He glanced at his watch. "About ten minutes ago, their NYC headquarters were raided and all those present were declared guilty of sedition and sentenced to Seperation. That, by the way, is the new designation for the two isolated locations in the far north of the new provinces of the United States formerly known as Yukon Territory and the Canadian Tundra. And if you have a problem with any of this, just keep talking."

The reporters suddenly became aware of the black-clad security forces surrrounding them. But one woman just would'nt be quiet. "What about free speech? Don't we have the right to question authority anymore?"

In answer, one of the heavily armed security men jammed the butt of his rifle into her face, knocking her to the ground.

Ryder said, "You still have that right. But it shall be done politely, respectfully, and correctly according to the law." He gestured to his left. "I'd like to introduce you to the new Mayor of New York, Mrs. Judith Sweetwater."

"What happened to the former mayor?"

"He and his leftist cronies are dead, along with the Governor of New York State. They resisted arrest and were killed attempting to cause harm to innocent law-abiding citizens."

The Admiral straightened as the National Anthem sounded across the harbor. When it was over, he said, "In your report, make sure that you note that the Reset Button has been pushed. We've re-established the rule of law according to the American Constitution. All orders and amendments instituted by former administrations that do not adhere to the Constitution have been nullified and stricken from the records. Any and all persons who resist will be arrested and sentenced to Seperation. Any further questions?"

..Two weeks later..


"Seperation, The Circle, Deep Freeze, and a couple of other names unrepeatable in the presence of ladies." Admiral Ryder tossed the folder onto the table and looked across at Nikki Haley, President of the United States. "Well, Nikki, we've come a long way since our days at Annapolis. Seems you've done a bit better than me, though."

She smiled. "Sometimes I wonder, Jack. I've forgotten what it's like to go home after a long day and crack open a cool one, turn on the tv, and have dinner with the family around the table."

He grinned. "As you say fairly often, Nikki, better days are coming." They were alone in the small cafetria on the third floor of the former New York City Hall. The bodies had been removed, but there was still a lingering scent of burnt wood and an oily sheen was staining the walls of the lower floors where the flash-bangs had exploded the reserve oil tanks necessary for heating the aging building.

The President asked, "What's the status for the rest of the island, Jack? Have you flushed 'em all out?"

Ryder shook his head. "Don't think we got them all yet. We caught a bunch of 'em in Central Park near the big fountain. They're dead. But we know that at least twenty, maybe more, have made their way to the area of the Cloisters and even farther north to the relatively unpopulated portion of Manhatten Island. We think that they may try to commandeer a boat of some sort to find their way over to Long Island and then high-tail it down to Montauk. We have intel that there are camps of anarchists down that way ready to cause trouble at the drop of a hat."

"Can't you just carpet-bomb the entire area, Jack? Not many folks down that way except a handful of millionaires and their beach houses."

"True, a few F-16s would make our job easier, but I have a feeling in my bones that several of them are top-level bosses in the liberal camp. Capturing them alive would do us a lot of good."

"So, send in the SEALS or Delta Squads, no? They kill the superfluous and bring out the necessary."

He laughed. "You got more aggressive over the past few years, Nikki. Not that it's a bad thing."

"I don't have time to be nice to traitors, Jack. These assholes want to take down all that we stand for. If we can get them alive, fine. If not, fine too. One way or another I want these islands free from liberals, globalists, or whatever other kind of enemies are still here. And I want it done, one way or another, in 72 hours."

Admiral Ryder stood, buttoned his top button, and saluted. "Yes, Ma'am. It will be taken care of."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Compton, California..


While Admiral Ryder and his SEALS were chasing down the remaining enemy anarchists on Manhatten and Long Island, another team of six was moving slowly along 6th street in the Compton section of Los Angeles. Frank Talbot was the officer in charge of this unit, and he was a "go-getter" type of guy. He surveyed the area of burned-out buildings, trash and homeless addicts littering the street. He held up a hand and signaled their next move.

It was dark, about 3 AM, a moonless night in Los Angeles. The Patriots knew that taking LA back from the liberals was going to be tougher than Chicago, Detroit, or St. Louis. The leftist element had been prevelant here for decades, since the 1930s. California Dreaming had produced a perverse, decadent life-style overall. Yes, there were good, hard-working people in LA, as with anywhere else. But the majority of the wealthy lived the lives of aristocrats, thinking themselves above the law. The OJ acquittal was a typical example. The message was that if you had enough money and could get to Los Angeles to "contribute" to a judge's re-election campaign, you'd never be convicted of anything.

At any rate, with the liberation and occupation of most towns north of LA secured by the California Militias, and the movement of Patriot forces to the cities of San Bernardino and Fontana, Los Angeles was effectively isolated, surrounded by US Army and Marine units with a naval blockade situated off the coast. Nothing and no one was getting out of the city without a fight. And it a given that there was going to be one hell of a fight put up by the gangs, both drug and liberal-anarchists. LA was awash with illegal weapons, and the various criminal gangs were heavily armed.

The six-man group halted in a dank alley, Talbot looking at his map. "OK, people. I remind you that we're here for intel gathering, nothing more. This area is populated with the Crips, Bloods, and M-16 thugs. Let's say it is in our best interests to get in and get out, in one piece, preferably."

One of the soldiers asked, "How long til dawn?"

"About 2.5 hours. We need to be long gone before the sun rises."

"Then why, sir, are we sitting here talking? Let's move out!"

The other soldiers grinned. They knew who this person was.

Talbot squinted in the darkness. "And just who in hell are you to be questioning me, soldier?"

The soldier unsnapped their helmet, dark hair falling out and framing her face. "Hello, Frank. Remember me?"

Frank Talbot was not one to show surprise, but this was a shocker. "Nikki? What in the hell are you doing here? Are you insane?"

She grinned. "Yes, but I remember you saying that you needed the best of the best to gather intel here before I order the city taken. Me and my boys are that best. And you have the privilege of commanding the best....to a point, of course." Nikki Haley had been a highly trained Spec-Ops unit. Graduated Annapolis near the top of her class. Admiral Ryder and Frank Talbot had been in the same class and had the highest regard for her.

"But your'e the fucking President of the United States! What happens if you get killed? I can't have that on my conscience!"

"So don't let me get killed, Commander. These four guys are my Spec-Ops Secret Service Units. Think of 'em as a combination of SEALS, Delta, Green Berets, and Interpol rolled into one unit."

"Interpol?"

"Yes, Pierre here is the top guy in Europe when it comes to either fighting or intel gathering."

Talbot looked down. "Madame President, may I have a word in private?"

They moved down the alley thirty feet. "Nikki, what the fuck? Why didn't I know about you coming?"

"Because you would have refused and we needed to move fast, Frank. We've got LA surrounded, but there's thousands of criminal guns out there. Rocket launchers, RPGs, possibly chem-bio stuff. These assholes don't give a rip if the entire city goes up in flames. We have to kill them all before they can commit the mass murder of tens-of-thousands of citizens. When this unit gets the intel I need on the ring leaders of the gangs, we'll be better prepared to save as many citizens as possible. Otherwise we lose, big-time."

He shook his head and gently grabbed her arm. "Your'e crazy, but that's why we're so good together."

She blushed. "Why Frank, is that a proposal?" She half-expected some kind of wise-ass answer, but he looked at her in a way she'd never seen before.

"Nikki, you are a strange kind of beautiful. The kind of woman that foolish men run from, and run back to when it's too late."

She looked him in the eye. "So, which way are you running, Frank?"

He smiled. "Depends on whether you think I'm foolish."

She put her helmet back on. "No, your'e neither foolish nor too late." She snapped the helmet in place and grabbed her AR-15. "Later for all that, Commander. Let's get back to work."

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..Compton, California..


While Admiral Ryder and his SEALS were chasing down the remaining enemy anarchists on Manhatten and Long Island, another team of six was moving slowly along 6th street in the Compton section of Los Angeles. Frank Talbot was the officer in charge of this unit, and he was a "go-getter" type of guy. He surveyed the area of burned-out buildings, trash and homeless addicts littering the street. He held up a hand and signaled their next move.

It was dark, about 3 AM, a moonless night in Los Angeles. The Patriots knew that taking LA back from the liberals was going to be tougher than Chicago, Detroit, or St. Louis. The leftist element had been prevelant here for decades, since the 1930s. California Dreaming had produced a perverse, decadent life-style overall. Yes, there were good, hard-working people in LA, as with anywhere else. But the majority of the wealthy lived the lives of aristocrats, thinking themselves above the law. The OJ acquittal was a typical example. The message was that if you had enough money and could get to Los Angeles to "contribute" to a judge's re-election campaign, you'd never be convicted of anything.

At any rate, with the liberation and occupation of most towns north of LA secured by the California Militias, and the movement of Patriot forces to the cities of San Bernardino and Fontana, Los Angeles was effectively isolated, surrounded by US Army and Marine units with a naval blockade situated off the coast. Nothing and no one was getting out of the city without a fight. And it a given that there was going to be one hell of a fight put up by the gangs, both drug and liberal-anarchists. LA was awash with illegal weapons, and the various criminal gangs were heavily armed.

The six-man group halted in a dank alley, Talbot looking at his map. "OK, people. I remind you that we're here for intel gathering, nothing more. This area is populated with the Crips, Bloods, and M-16 thugs. Let's say it is in our best interests to get in and get out, in one piece, preferably."

One of the soldiers asked, "How long til dawn?"

"About 2.5 hours. We need to be long gone before the sun rises."

"Then why, sir, are we sitting here talking? Let's move out!"

The other soldiers grinned. They knew who this person was.

Talbot squinted in the darkness. "And just who in hell are you to be questioning me, soldier?"

The soldier unsnapped their helmet, dark hair falling out and framing her face. "Hello, Frank. Remember me?"

Frank Talbot was not one to show surprise, but this was a shocker. "Nikki? What in the hell are you doing here? Are you insane?"

She grinned. "Yes, but I remember you saying that you needed the best of the best to gather intel here before I order the city taken. Me and my boys are that best. And you have the privilege of commanding the best....to a point, of course." Nikki Haley had been a highly trained Spec-Ops unit. Graduated Annapolis near the top of her class. Admiral Ryder and Frank Talbot had been in the same class and had the highest regard for her.

"But your'e the fucking President of the United States! What happens if you get killed? I can't have that on my conscience!"

"So don't let me get killed, Commander. These four guys are my Spec-Ops Secret Service Units. Think of 'em as a combination of SEALS, Delta, Green Berets, and Interpol rolled into one unit."

"Interpol?"

"Yes, Pierre here is the top guy in Europe when it comes to either fighting or intel gathering."

Talbot looked down. "Madame President, may I have a word in private?"

They moved down the alley thirty feet. "Nikki, what the fuck? Why didn't I know about you coming?"

"Because you would have refused and we needed to move fast, Frank. We've got LA surrounded, but there's thousands of criminal guns out there. Rocket launchers, RPGs, possibly chem-bio stuff. These assholes don't give a rip if the entire city goes up in flames. We have to kill them all before they can commit the mass murder of tens-of-thousands of citizens. When this unit gets the intel I need on the ring leaders of the gangs, we'll be better prepared to save as many citizens as possible. Otherwise we lose, big-time."

He shook his head and gently grabbed her arm. "Your'e crazy, but that's why we're so good together."

She blushed. "Why Frank, is that a proposal?" She half-expected some kind of wise-ass answer, but he looked at her in a way she'd never seen before.

"Nikki, you are a strange kind of beautiful. The kind of woman that foolish men run from, and run back to when it's too late."

She looked him in the eye. "So, which way are you running, Frank?"

He smiled. "Depends on whether you think I'm foolish."

She put her helmet back on. "No, your'e neither foolish nor too late." She snapped the helmet in place and grabbed her AR-15. "Later for all that, Commander. Let's get back to work."

They got out, but not without opposition. They retraced their steps up 6th street and wound up on Cypress Blvd. and found themselves just blocks from the Disney attraction. This time of the morning showed no one but the basic maintenance people there cleaning the park for the next day's onslaught of tourists. There was, out of necessity, a heavy police presence around Disneyland in order to keep the riffraff out.

Commander Frank Talbot led his team south of the tourist areas and followed the side-streets along state highway 91 until they came to a point where they made an abrupt turn to the north and headed through Yorba Linda. By the time the sun was coming up, they were on their way to Fontana, which was another ten miles east of their location. "It's not safe to move during the day. We stay here until it's dark. We'll be with our people in Fontana by 7 AM tomorrow morning." No one protested. They were dead tired and were about to welcome a good sleep when several shots rang out.

Instantly alert, the team donned their night-vision specs and saw a large force of unknowns advancing from the south. Talbot whispered into his commpin, "Looks like a and of local bandits. Some fucking warlord thinks we're another gang encroaching on his turf."

Nikki Haley was at his side. "What's your plan, Commander?"

"Why, we engage the fuckers and kill 'em all!"

Which is what they did. The bandits advanced recklessly, not apparently trained in anything but slash-and-hack. They trusted far too much in their weapons instead of using their heads. They came at the Patriots, guns blazing, relying on greater numbers to overcome the small unit of soldiers.

They regretted their brash actions. As the bandits emerged into an open square, they were instantly cut down by a concetrated fire from the Patriots. In just a few minutes, nearly twenty of the bandits were dead or wounded. Those remaining had dug in to abandoned buildings and were taking pot-shots at intermittant times.

"We gotta eliminate them assholes. We got to move quickly if we're gonna get to Fontana in time for extraction!"

President Haley motioned to two of her Secret Servicemen and started forward before Talbot could say anything. He was sweating like a pig when he heard machine gun fire some sixty yards away. Another ten minutes passed before he saw Haley and her men walking calmly through the streets, munching on apples and oranges. She grinned, "Bastards had some fresh fruit, probably from the big markets in San Diego. Here....have some."

She tossed some fruit to the others and for a few minutes they forgot their predicament.

"You sure you gt them all, Nikki?"

"Positive. They won't be sending any more money to Guadelehara any time soon."

"Good. Now lets's get it in gear and get to Fontana. Our HQ is an entire city block encompassing a truck stop and a former titty-bar."

"Which one, Commander? 1-800-BABES?"

"You got it, soldier. And from what I hear, we got hot showers and some chocha waiting for us."

Haley glared at him. "Chocha? You mean hookers?"

"Nah, not hookers. Dancers. Entertainment specialists."

She said, "We have more important things to do than seek lap dances, Commander! I want us in and out of there in 24 hours!"

Talbot smiled. "Yes, ma'am. Twenty four hours it is." His sarcastic grin was enough to tell her that her men would not be all that rested when air-lifted to Frisco. 'Boys will be boys', she thought.....

[The Shadow Soldiers]

..Mapesville, Maine..


Kris Sisto watched as the snow fell, accumulation approaching fifty-two inches. "Throw another fucking log on that fire, Willie. It don't look like this shit gonna stop any time soon."

Willie Stewart got up and staggered to the wood burning stove. Half of a fifth of whiskey made it hard to focus. He picked up a couple of pieces of oak and flung them into the open door, sending sparks flying.

"You dumb shit! What the fuck? Stow that rot-gut and get your ass in the bunk. We got shit to do tomorrow."

"Fuck you, Kris. Who died and left you boss?"

"It's only me and you, ass-wipe! And you 'aint in any condition to do anything but sleep!"

Willie looked around. "Where'd that hooker go? She still here?"

You mean the one callin' herself Dixie? Yeah, she's still here." He pointed over to a dark corner where a woman was tied up in a straight-back chair, slumped over, cuts and scratches on her face.

Willie grinned. "Hell, thought I killed her accidentally. Is she awake enough for a lap dance?"

"You dumb shit! She's dead alright! You broke her fuckin' neck! Now drag the body outside for the critters to eat! Can't have the cops snooping around looking for her!"

After coming back inside the cabin, Wille asked, "What the fuck we be doin' tomorrow? 'Aint nobody gonna be doing much of anything with this weather."

"And that's exactly why we gonna go blow up the armory in Gardiner. No one will be expecting it. Gonna kill a dozen of them damned Patriots while we're at it."

"The armory? That's State Police! You fuckin' crazy?"

"Shit, Willie. They won't even know what hit 'em! We'll be in and out in less thn fifteen minutes. We can get back here quick-like in less than a half hour."

Willie stood, and without answering, puked up the contents of his stomach.

"Damn your shit-filled soul! Now clean this shit up and get your ass in the bunk. You 'aint ready for tomorrow, I'll kill you myself!"

[Foxton-Sunbury]

..The Oval Office, Washington DC..


President Nikki Haley watched with mounting irritation as the various agency heads quarreled about jurisdiction. Of the dozen agencies represented, only one sat quietly absorbing the chaos.

Haley stood and shouted, "Enough! I don't give a shit who's in charge of what! As of now, Commander Frank Talbot has my full confidence, which, to all of you, means that you work for him because he works for me!"

"Madame President, this is highly irregular! The CIA has non-continental oversight and we have problems overseas with these terror groups receiving aid from renegade nations!"

"Excuse me, Director, but the FBI, the NSA, and DHS work together to combat national crimes against the citizenry of the United States. The CIA has no place telling us what we can and cannot do!"

The arguing was about toescalate once again when Haley pounded her desk. "Are you all fucking deaf? I just told you that Commander Talbot is in charge of all national security, internal and external. You will cooperate with him or you will be working at Burger King tomorrow morning flipping burgers! Got it?"

Instant silence. "Good. Now listen up. I've had more than enough of this we-hit-them and they-hit us. I want this shit settled within the next 14 days. We are going to hit all liberal, globalist, tree-hugging, tolerant, left-wingers with all we have! In a coordinated, concentrated effort, we are going, in one massive operation, to eliminate the anti-Constitutionalist criminals. We are going to do this by simply infiltrating and then eliminating the enemy. All traitors of the American Republic will be, once and for all, removed from our country. I have the entirety of the Army, Airforce, Navy, Marines, and Coast Guard on high alert. Fourteen days from now, over 98% of progressive-liberal-socialist groups will be eradicated. In addition, all non-citizens that cannot produce legal papers entitling them to the benefits of American life will be either arrested and deported, arrested and imprisoned to Seperation, or executed. I have signed executve orders remanding all unconstituitonal laws and ordinances, and have set in motion Congressional protocols to rescind anti-American Constitutional Amendments. In addition, I have set forth new procedures concerning elections and term-limits for all politicians. In short, the Second American Revolution has commenced. All dictatorial, self-serving, and corrupt legal loopholes are to be ended as of two weeks from now."

She looked around at the shocked faces. "Hear me, people. The bullshit of the past forty-five years is coming to an end. You will all find out the particulars in the coming days. To this stated end, I an hereby declaring a national state of emergency and invoking Martial Law. Commander Talbot will fill you in on the details."

Frank Talbot got up off the couch. "Be seated, ladies and gentlemen. And keep your fucking mouths shut while I talk."