Richard Stephenson - Resistance

“Mr. President, I didn’t feel it necessary to waste your time until I had something solid to report.”

“You waste my time, Mr. Jimenez, when my repeated attempts to contact you go unanswered. Tell me what you know.”

“Yes, Mr. President. We know the identities of the men involved. All are American citizens; their parents, however, hail from countries in The Great Empire of Iran.”

“Are their parents American citizens?”

“Most of them, yes, Mr. President. They were granted American citizenship in the late 90s. They managed to cleverly mask their heritage and passed themselves off as Spanish.”

“Have you located them?”

“Their parents? No, Mr. President, we haven’t made it a priority.”

“Make it a priority. I have no doubt their parents were complicit in their training. Once you’ve located them, execute them…” President Sterling’s lips curled in a sinister grin. “…publicly. Give your citizens some semblance of justice.”

“Yes, Mr. President. I’m sending the order now.” The command was issued with a few hasty keystrokes.

“Tell me about the attack.”

“We’ve been able to trace the vehicles back to two men we believe to be the ringleaders, both veterans of the United States Army. It would explain how they managed to get their hands on the ordinance they used. The Golden Gate Bridge suffered catastrophic damage. The framework remains intact, but the road spanning the bridge was ruined beyond repair. It will take years before a vehicle can cross it.”

“Roberto, I want you to be frank with me. What measures could have been taken to prevent this? If The Silent Warriors are bold enough to start attacking targets in our most secure region, we need to do whatever we can to prevent it from happening again.”

“That’s just the problem, Mr. President. My region may not have been struck by The Pulse, but that doesn’t mean we’re the most secure region. Just because we have electricity, running water, and a stable infrastructure doesn’t change the fact that our resources are being slowly stripped down to nothing.”

“Elaborate, please.”

“I fully understand that The Pulse Zone is in desperate need of every available resource we can give them: fuel, spare parts, food, water, working vehicles, medical supplies. I have no objection to that. We’re living in the lap of luxury compared to the East Coast. The problem I have is that more and more of my troops are being redeployed to The Pulse Zone. I’m working with a skeleton crew that barely manages to secure checkpoints and vital areas. I don’t have the manpower to maintain law and order, and I damn sure don’t have enough soldiers to conduct investigations and round up suspected terrorist cells.”

“Did you not think it prudent to bring this to my attention earlier, Mr. Jimenez?”

“To be blunt, Mr. President, I have. You instructed me to work out my problems with Regional Governor Butler. You basically gave the man free reign to do whatever it takes to get The Pulse Zone back up and running. Jackson is an arrogant little turd that wouldn’t budge on a damn thing. He thinks his region is the only one that matters. He told me my region can go to shit for all he cares.”

“Jackson said that?”

“His exact words, Mr. President. He’s cocky and dangerous, in my opinion. I strongly believe he’s stockpiling resources and manpower for the day when The Pulse Zone is fully functional. He wants to come out on top. I’m certain he’s planning something.”

“A bold accusation, Roberto. What do you think he’s planning?”

“I’m not sure, but what I do know is that many of the resources I’ve sent him aren’t being utilized. He keeps asking for more, and when I refuse his requests until he can provide documentation for what he’s done with my previous shipments, he goes behind my back and lies to you. Your office sends me direct orders to un-ass my goods. I don’t like it all.”

“How long has he been doing this?”

“Six months at least.”

“Again, Roberto, why not tell me?”

“With respect, Mr. President, he’s your golden boy, and I don’t want to make enemies out of either of you.”

“Well, Roberto, I will admit that I’ve made his region a priority over yours for obvious reasons, and it seems we’ve all suffered for it. Losing the Golden Gate Bridge is a huge blow. My mistake was thinking The Silent Warriors wouldn’t be so bold to attack us out in the open. The darkness and chaos of The Pulse Zone seems to be the perfect breeding ground for those cowards. I’m going to get to the bottom of this; I can assure you that this concerns me a great deal. I feel I may have given Jackson Butler too long a leash, and now it’s time to rein him in a bit.”

“Whatever I can do to help, Mr. President, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Roberto. Now I’m afraid I must change the subject and impart some bad news.”

“I’ve had plenty today, Mr. President. I doubt a little more will faze me.”

“I’m sure everything you’ve been dealing with today has kept you quite preoccupied. My earlier attempts to contact you were not just to inquire about the attack. I regret to inform you that Regional Governor Weygandt was killed this morning.”

Roberto was speechless. Jim Weygandt had been his friend for over twenty years. When Roberto was the director of the CIA, he relied on Jim to provide him with the resources to carry out covert ops around the globe. “How?”

“He was rear-ended by another vehicle, and his car was sent over a bridge. Everyone is in complete shock over this terrible tragedy. I’ll be forever grateful for his role in building the Unified American Empire. He will be missed.”

“When’s the funeral?”

“Soon. I’ll send you the details. I’m truly sorry for your loss, Roberto. I know the two of you were very close.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. Is there anything else?”

“No, Roberto, I’ll see you at the funeral.”

Benjamin Black sat in his office overlooking Disney World’s Main Street USA. He enjoyed the quiet solitude of his office because he could deliberate over the day-to- day operations of his territory. The theme parks and resorts under his control covered forty-seven square miles with a population closing in on six thousand. Ben controlled a paradise in the middle of the Florida wasteland. Eighteen months prior, Hurricane Luther had destroyed much of Florida during the most powerful hurricane the world had ever seen. The category five storm came ashore not once, but four times, each time a little stronger than the last. With the collapse of the American government, the state of Florida found itself in the same shape it had been following Luther’s brutal punishment.

Walt Disney World, with all her theme parks and resorts, was not spared by Luther. Most of the rides were destroyed, and the majority of the buildings were uninhabitable. Ben wasn’t worried about any of that; what drew Ben to the Magic Kingdom was the security it offered. The theme parks had a perimeter fence around them and Ben saw the advantage. His oasis in the wasteland attracted the hungry and the frightened. The stability Ben offered brought fierce loyalty. He was considered a savior; his people loved him like a father figure. He was doing a fine job running his community, and the UAE saw fit to leave him to it. They sent a weekly patrol to his front gate to trade intelligence and inform Ben of new laws enacted by President Sterling. These so-called laws were nothing more than President Sterling stripping away civil rights.

While the citizens of Walt Disney World deified Benjamin Black, they had no idea that his primary mission in life had nothing to do with their care, but rather with the destruction of the Unified American Empire-piece by piece if necessary. When the UAE showed up on his doorstep looking for persons of interest, he ushered them in and gave the appearance of cooperation while his trusted freedom fighters subverted the UAE’s tyrannical efforts. Ben sent out guerrilla units to raid small UAE camps and ambush convoys. He even managed to nurture a network of spies that fed him valuable intelligence.