Richard Stephenson - Resistance

“Richard! Stop right now! We need him!”

Richard cocked the hammer. “Like hell we do.”

Howard pleaded. “Please, Richard, please trust me. We need him alive. He’s going to surrender the military forces of the UAE to us. We need him alive to do it.”

Richard leaned forward. “Is that right, Mr. President? You gonna play ball with us?”

“Yes! I swear it! I swear it, General! Please, don’t kill me!”

“I love hearing you beg, you piece of shit. Stand up.”

Simon got to his feet and dusted himself off. He looked at the group and saw nothing but contempt reflected in their faces. Simon realized his delusions of forgiveness were foolish. He’d mistakenly thought that if Howard trusted him, the others would do the same.

The group had been reunited in a deserted stretch of land between Montrose, Colorado, and the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. Hal had landed the fleet of nine stealth jets and waited for Howard to bring the three remaining jets to the rendezvous point.

“Maxwell, how are you feeling?” Howard asked.

“Well, Howard, let’s see. I had a crushed vertebra replaced and was placed in a drug-induced coma to escape the Chinese. Then we ran over one of your psychotic killer robots. Now I feel like I’ve been beaten half to death with baseball bats, and here we are.”

“That requires so much more explanation, Max, but it will have to wait for another time. We have much more important things to do.”

“All in good time, Howard, all in good time. What’s the plan?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to Richard about. Tell me, General, do you think these twelve jets could take back Beck Estates?”

“If the Chinese have the place locked down like I’m certain they do, we’ll lose half the jets attempting to do so. Would we lose Hal in the process?”

“We would. Three of those cores are crucial to keeping Hal online. We lose those three and he won’t survive. The risk is just too high.

Richard glared at Simon. “What about the UAE forces at Beck Estates? Can we get them to turn on the Chinese?”

“They’re no doubt taking orders from Regional Governor Butler. He probably has them under the delusion that the Chinese are allies. If I declare Butler a traitor to the UAE and the Chinese as our enemies, they’ll turn on them.”

“I like those odds much better. We assign an escort for each of the vital jets and we can pull it off.”

Howard turned to Simon. “Who do you trust in Jackson’s camp?”

“Matt Bankhead is an old salt. I can talk sense into him.”

“Wait. You mean Butler’s old top NCO? The guy who helped him kick me out of my own house?”

“Yes, Matt has a secret hatred for officers. He despises the ass-kissing and politics, and the officers love him for it. They’ll listen to him and turn on Butler in a heartbeat.”

Howard struggled to believe that one of the men who’d taken his house from him was now going to help him get it back. “Simon, I’ll compile a data file you can send to show him what the Chinese have done to the West Coast. The thousands of dead UAE troops will be enough to illustrate what Butler is hiding from him.”

Command Sergeant Major Matthew Bankhead was torn between his loyalty to the United American Empire and a gut feeling that something was very wrong with the country he had sworn to protect. He mourned the death of President Sterling, a man he’d admired a great deal. The Silent Warriors, the cowardly bastards, had attacked the president in Miami and killed not only the president, but some great men and women of the UAE, and Matt hated Iran all the more. Despite mourning the loss of a great man, he was happy to celebrate the man’s successor, President Jackson Butler. CSM Bankhead had served as first sergeant under Jackson Butler while the man was still a captain

What was troubling Bankhead was the mysterious man that walked right into Beck Estates like he owned the joint. President Jackson Butler was the most powerful man in the empire, but the stranger treated him like an underling. This puzzled Matt a great deal. The only logical assumption Matt could make was that the man was an agent of the Chinese government. Matt had tried to broach the subject with the president, but the only answer he got was “He’s my advisor, I trust him and that means you do, too. Understood?” Matt had snapped a smart salute and left the room. He didn’t even know the mysterious man’s name. No measure of loyalty to President Butler would ever mean he trusted the president’s so-called advisor.

Matt was in his office when his aide knocked on the door and handed him a tablet. Matt dismissed the aide and stared at the tablet in front of him. The screen contained three simple lines:

From the Office of the President

Top Secret — Eyes Only

Enter Security Encryption Key Omega to Continue

Omega? The Omega encryption was discontinued when Jackson took office. What the hell? Matt typed in his Omega encryption code to find four separate video screens. He clicked on the first one and watched in horror as Chinese soldiers ransacked the streets of San Francisco, engaged in combat with UAE soldiers, and murdered armed citizens who dared to resist the invasion force. The second screen provided an aerial view of the decimated remains of Edwards Air Force Base. The third and fourth screens showed similar destruction at Fort Irwin and the Presidio. Matt was speechless; this had to be some kind of joke.

As the last video ended, a new screen appeared: Incoming Video Conference. Matt clicked the “accept” button to find the face of a dead man staring back at him.

“Hello, Sergeant Major. It’s been a long time.”

“President Sterling? You’re alive?”

“I am, Matt.”

“But, but … how? What’s going on?”

“The explanation is really quite simple: Jackson Butler was responsible for the attack in Miami and he betrayed us to the Chinese.”

Matthew Bankhead stared back at the screen, a whirlwind of confusion rendering him speechless.

“Jackson has been lying to you, feeding you false reports. Your battalion is protecting the traitor and his Chinese agent. The Chinese hold everything west of the Mississippi.”

“I don’t believe it. This can’t be happening!”

“It’s happening, Matt, and I need your help to stop him.”

“The Chinese have two battalions here on the grounds. We’re outnumbered but we’ll fight!”

“Excellent, Sergeant Major, that’s what I wanted to hear. You won’t be alone. Help is on the way.”

“Just say the word, and we’ll have the element of surprise on our side. I’ll shoot Butler and his chink spy right in the head.”

“You’re to do no such thing. A great deal depends on them being captured alive. Do you understand? Detain them, nothing more.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Matt, your tablet is recording this conversation. Show the videos and our conversation to Colonel Hagglund and her officers. You have to convince them to join the fight.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. President, they’ll join the fight or be detained as traitors. I can’t believe Butler is doing this. We’re protecting a traitorous piece of scum-suckin’ filth!”

“Matt, I’m glad you agree. And please address me as Mr. Sterling.”

“Sir?”

“My allegiance lies with the only true patriot to hold steadfast to the principals of democracy-our true president, democratically elected by the people, President Howard Beck. What’s left of the UAE on the other side of the Mississippi will join forces with the PSA. Together we will stop the Chinese.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Sterling.”