G Hopf - Sanctuary

He stepped up to the statue and touched it, running his hands across the smooth marble. But his focus on the statue was shattered when gunfire rang out.

He looked down the hallway that led to the senate chamber. More gunfire echoed, then screams followed.

His radio cracked. It was General Pasqual. “Emperor, this is General Pasqual, come in. Over.”

He pressed the handset that was attached to his shoulder and pressed the button. “Yes, General, what is it?”

“Sir, we have the lieutenant governor.”

The first thing Pablo saw when he entered the large room was a beautiful woman standing over a wounded man.

“Don’t hurt him! Please!” the woman pleaded.

Pablo rushed to the group standing around the man and woman. He pushed his way through his men until he was in front of the woman.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

Pablo’s eyes opened wide when he saw her up close. She was beautiful. Her long, straight black hair hung down to her shoulders. Her olive skin was smooth. As she pleaded for the man on the floor, Pablo could see the intensity projecting from her large brown eyes.

“Everyone put down your rifles!” Pablo barked.

All of the soldiers lowered their guns with total obedience.

The woman looked at Pablo, disgusted, and asked, “Why? Why did you have to do this?”

“What is your name?” Pablo asked.

The man on the floor began to cough up blood.

“Papa, no!” the woman said. She knelt down and held the man’s hand.

“You’re the daughter of Lieutenant Governor Aguilar?” Pablo asked, amused.

The woman was doing her best to make the lieutenant governor comfortable. He had been shot in the stomach and was bleeding badly.

“Since you won’t answer my questions, I’ll just proceed with your father’s execution,” Pablo said calmly.

His men raised their rifles.

“Isabelle, my name is Isabelle. Please don’t kill my father!” she begged.

“Why should I spare you and your father? When we met two days ago, he and the governor made it clear they weren’t surrendering.”

She naturally wanted to resist him but she couldn’t without running the risk of dying or seeing her father killed. With nothing at her disposal but her femininity, she gave him what many men like him want: recognition. “I know what you want,” she said.

Pablo looked at her quizzically and asked, “What is it that I want?”

“Respect.”

Her answer shocked him. It was as if she looked into his soul.

She looked up at him and said, “Men like you have been successful throughout history not only by showing your strength of arms, but also by showing your strength through mercy.”

She left her father’s side and crawled over to him. Grabbing his hand, she looked into his eyes and said, “Please, Emperor, show us mercy and we’ll forever be indebted to you.”

This woman’s boldness rendered him speechless. All eyes were trained on him.

Their lives were in the balance. He had the power to crush them or save them. Today had been a turning point for him. The moment he saw the statue he knew it was a sign, and this woman in front of him was another sign. Instead of Columbus at the feet of Queen Isabella, this was a woman named Isabelle at his feet. God was showing him all the signs he needed; God was showing him that he was on the correct path.

He took her hand and brought her up. He returned her deep look and said, “Isabelle, I pardon you and your father.” He raised his arms, then yelled out, “I’ll go further than that: I’ll pardon anyone we find here who is willing to join our cause.”

Barone wasn’t a fan of running, but he couldn’t find a better workout. What he liked most about it was that it cleared his mind. Each bead of sweat signified a release of stress.

One problem he couldn’t wrap his mind around was the lack of response from the U.S. government in regards to the prisoners he had taken. He knew they were aware of the situation, but there was no sign of the other Marine ARG coming to Portland. Captain White in the USS Topeka reported nothing. He had sailed as far south as Long Beach and spotted nothing on his instruments.

He knew in order for them to be successful, they would have to stay two steps ahead of Conner and the U.S. forces. Their silence did not indicate they were gone. They might be dealing with other problems but they would never leave him alone forever.

Barone had grown attached to this area and wanted to find a way to stay and make it work. The city council had not made a final decision, but it appeared it would end in his favor. From a preliminary vote, three members wanted them to leave. The other members knew that would result in utter chaos. The council wanted to present a unified decision to the towns. Having political disagreements in the past was fine, but now political disagreements could literally end in bloodshed. Those in favor wanted to spend a few days attempting to convince their colleagues to change their votes. Barone had also planned to take the time to speak with those people. He would go to each one and plead his case and see exactly what they wanted. If there was one thing he understood, it was how a politician thought.

When he came aboard the ship, the officer of the deck greeted him and informed him that Master Sergeant Simpson was looking for him. There was something important that he needed to relay to him.

Barone made his way down noticeably empty passageways. Many of the men were gone, either in town or deployed throughout Oregon and Northern California on long-range recon patrols. He missed the hustle and bustle of a full ship, but he gladly exchanged that for the knowledge that his men were accomplishing great things out among the people.

Simpson had requested that Barone meet him in the CIC upon his return to the ship. When he opened the door of the operations center, he walked into a flurry of activity.

“Colonel, back here, sir,” Simpson called out.

Barone still had sweat clinging to his skin and his clothes were soaked. When he stepped back into the briefing room he was greeted by his entire staff. All eyes locked on him as he wiped his face and took a seat. On the screen he saw a map of Northern California with two red areas circled.

“I see the map of NorCal up there. What happened?” Barone asked, cutting to the point.

“Sir, two of our LRRP patrols were attacked. One in the city of Eureka and the other near Redding,” Master Sergeant Simpson said.

“First question I have is what were our guys doing so far south?”

“Sir, that was my call. They called in permission to go down there,” Major Ashley said.

“Major Ashley, why didn’t you think that was important to tell me?” Barone asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

“Sir, our men have been encountering troubles here and there, but they have always been successful in setting up contact. I thought it wasn’t a request that needed your approval.”

“Major, I can’t stress enough the importance of chain of command. If it pertains to large-scale operational decisions, you must run it by me,” Barone chastised.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, what do we have?”

“As you know we have had small engagements with civilian gangs throughout Oregon. What makes this different is they encountered another military force.”

“Marines, is it the other ARG?”

Ashley looked at the other men and Simpson, then turned to Barone and said, “No, sir, these are not Marines. These aren’t U.S. forces at all.”

“What happened to our men?”

“The patrol in Eureka was ambushed after meeting with the mayor there. We lost five men. Outside of Redding, our patrol came upon them along the side of the road. When our troops pulled up, this group opened fire. Our men returned fire and destroyed them. We know they’re not U.S. because this is what was transmitted back.” Ashley took the remote and clicked a button. The screen flipped from the map to a picture of a light utility vehicle with a machine mounted in the back.