Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

Victoria’s team consisted of four special operatives, three of whom had worked with her before. All were excellent shots. So it was only a matter of seconds before the woman behind the wheel of an old flatbed truck was killed. Her vehicle veered off course and flattened a stop sign before crashing through the front of the local café.

The invaders wasted no time retaliating, and that forced Victoria’s team to take cover. Meanwhile, a rat rod swooped in to rescue the Berkowitz family and spirit them away. A blizzard of paper fluttered out of the last vehicle to depart.

Victoria emerged from behind a bullet-riddled sedan. Five bodies lay sprawled in the street. Some were shooters, and some had been standing next to the shooters. She went out to retrieve a flyer.

RESTORE AMERICA, the headline said. That was followed by a list of reasons why the New Confederacy was illegal and people should oppose it. Victoria heard a buzzing sound and brought her carbine up to see a civilian drone hovering in front of her. It had four engines, a rounded fuselage, and was equipped with a belly cam. The light gray paint would make the aircraft difficult to see against the sky.

Now Victoria realized that the drone had been there all along, hanging over the town square, feeding video to who ? One of the people she was supposed to catch, that’s who. Someone who would put the footage up on the Internet for propaganda purposes.

The voice was distorted but understandable nevertheless. “My name is Nathan Hale. A terrorist who calls himself El Carnicero , or the Butcher, has been assassinating your soldiers while claiming membership in the Union Underground. If you’d like to catch him, we’re willing to help. Send an e-mail to nathanhale@unionunder ground.org. We’ll talk.”

Victoria gave serious consideration to blowing the drone out of the sky but thought better of it. Maybe the Underground could help—and maybe it couldn’t. But El Carnicero was at the top of her hit list, and a lead would be welcome. Or, maybe she’d find Nathan Hale and smoke him instead. Victoria allowed the drone to fly away. It shrank to the size of a dot and disappeared.

FORT KNOX, KENTUCKY

Most of the world’s developed countries had been hit hard on May Day, while the citizens of many so-called third-world nations barely noticed because they were leading hard lives before the shit hit the fan. But now, having dealt with the immediate crises, industrialized countries were beginning to direct some of their attention outward again. More than that, they had to because so many things had changed, not the least of which was the situation in North America. A place where two governments claimed to control what had been the United States.

What were the Koreans and Brazilians to do? Should they back the Union, which, according to the laws extant on May Day, was the more legitimate government? Or would it be better to support the New Confederacy? Because of its “we can do business with you” mind-set.

As a result of this uncertainty, it was necessary for Sloan’s administration to woo traditional allies like France, Germany, and Great Britain in hopes of maintaining previous military alliances, trade agreements, and legal structures. That’s why Sloan, along with members of his cabinet, was about to spend the evening shooting the shit with all manner of diplomats, including some who had been seen in Houston.

But in spite of Sloan’s dislike of receptions, and all that they entailed, there was one thing to look forward to… And that was the opportunity to spend a moment with Captain Robin Macintyre. Or “Mac,” as her troops referred to her. Sloan knew that the prospect of that would help him wade through the endless rounds of toasts, the mind-numbing bullshit, and the posturing that would be served with dinner.

So Sloan kept an eye out for Mac throughout the meeting. The first sighting took place while he was standing on a riser, giving a short speech about the importance of old friendships and new opportunities.

Mac was toward the back of the crowd with some military types. She was dressed in a blue uniform and far prettier than the women wearing expensive dresses. Or so it seemed to him. That was when Sloan lost his place, coughed to cover the moment of confusion, and launched into the close. “So, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight. Please enjoy the appetizers but save some room for Chef Franco’s main course.”

There was polite applause and a quintet began to play as Sloan stepped down. Secret Service agents shadowed the president as Secretary of State Henderson appeared with the Italian ambassador at his side. The Italians were trying to play the Union off against the New Confederacy in a blatant attempt to extract money from both. But what the ambassador didn’t seem to understand was that Sloan didn’t have any money to give. Not with a war to fight and a country to rebuild.

Sloan couldn’t say that, however, so he took the first opportunity that came along to redirect the conversation to the subject of soccer, and Italy’s upcoming game with Germany. That set the ambassador off… And all Sloan had to do was nod occasionally as the ambassador expounded on how horrible the Germans were.

Beth materialized out of the crowd. Her hair was just so, diamonds sparkled on her ears, and the blue dress looked as though it was sewed on. She , not to mention he , had been the subject of published rumors. The latest of which was that she’d been removed from the political beat due to her relationship with Sloan. And her presence at his side would add fuel to the fire. But what to do? He was trapped.

Sloan was about to introduce Beth to the ambassador when they exchanged air kisses and began to chatter in rapid Italian. Damn it… She was perfect for him! Good at everything except making him happy.

After what seemed like an eternity, the reception came to an end, and the dignitaries were herded into the dining room. Eight people were seated at each circular table. Beth was on Sloan’s left, and the other diners included the Russian ambassador, her husband, South Korea’s Consulate General, his wife, and a well-known comedian with her wife. The hope was that the pair from Hollywood could keep the conversation light. And the plan worked for the most part. That despite intel reports that Russia and Canada had designs on Alaska.

After an hour-and-a-half dinner came to an end, people began to leave, and Sloan parted company with Beth. “I’ve got a meeting… It could take as much as an hour.”

“I’ll wait,” Beth told him, and what could he say? Don’t bother? No, that wouldn’t do.

Secret Service agents escorted Sloan upstairs to a small meeting room. They were about to enter when Sloan told them to wait outside. “No offense guys… But you’re intimidating. Maybe it’s the shades.” Both men chuckled but left the glasses on.

Sloan opened the door and stepped inside. Mac was looking out through a window. Snow was falling through the wash of light beyond the glass. She turned, and there was the same softly rounded face he’d seen on that terrible night in Richton, Mississippi. Her eyes were what? Intelligent? Cool? Curious? All of those things and more. He went forward to shake hands. “We meet again, Captain. Thank you for coming.”

Mac smiled. “No offense, Mr. President… But I did my best to get out of it.”

Sloan laughed. “No problem. Hell, I’d get out of it myself if I could. But I’m glad they forced you to come. The country owes you a debt of gratitude, and so do I. What you accomplished in Wyoming was nothing short of miraculous. Please, have a seat.”

The conversation area consisted of two chairs, a coffee table, and a couch. Mac sat on one end with Sloan at the other. “Tell me everything,” Sloan said. “Starting with the day after we parted company.”