The Independents (6 page)

Terri thought about h
is concern for a moment and replied.
“Bishop, we didn’t go looking for trouble today. That plane came to us. Sometimes you can’t control what life throws at you. We’ve made it through because of what we are and how we have handled it. I trust your instincts and your judgment. I’m with you all the way. Cowering all scared and timid in our little canyon might
work – or it might
make
things worse. It’s your call.”

He pulled her back close to him, holding her tightly for
a while
.
He announced his decision by looking at his
watch and
proclaiming
, “I
’ve got
to get going. I
have an airplane to find and a mystery to solve. Help me get into all this gear
;
would ya
,
babe?”

The
President
of the United States stood looking at a large wall map of his country
,
his hands
folded behind his back. To the casual observer, the jacket he w
ore looked like a quality light
weight fall coat
,
with the
President
ial seal above his heart a
nd the acronym
POTUS
(
President
of the
United States)
in gold embroidery across his back. In reality, th
e
simple windbreaker was a multi-thousand dollar piece of equipment, which the Secret Service
now
demanded he wear at all times.

While it was perhaps a few ounces heavier than an identical style purchased off the shelf at a
fine men’s store
, the jacket provided the same protection as level IIIA body armor. Able to defeat any handgun
and all but the largest rifle calibers, the material used in the lining was a state secret.

The embroidery on both the front and back had a security role as well. The thread had been treated with a special chemical that emitted heat at a specific frequency. When viewe
d through the s
ervice’s forward-
looking infrared goggles, anyone wearing the jacket would stand out like a neon sign glowing in a dark night.

The drawstring at the waist was an
an
tenna connected to two micro-
transmitters
sewn into the collar. Along the zipper
,
hidden
in
a
slightly wider than normal seam
,
was a battery pack designed to
power the
se
tiny radio stations for five years. These transmitters allowed the Air Force Space Comm
and’s satellites to pinpoint the location of the jacket to within one meter, anywhere on earth. The
president
’s bodyguards were equipped with handheld devices that
would show the location of the
president
up to five miles away.

Special Agent Powell was thinking about all of this while he watched the
president
from his normal
station
by the door. The two men were alone in the room
,
and as was his custom lately, the
president
used an
yone nearby as a sounding board.
“Agent Powell, I
just
can’t believe we have to rebuild our country like we did Iraq and Afghanistan. When I was swor
n into office, if you had
told me t
he United States of America would be
in the same condition -
no, worse, than Iraq in 2005, I would have thought you were insane.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you
,
sir.”

The
president
seemed to ignore his bodyguard’s remark
.
“I rem
ember
those days. I was in the s
enate, and
privately
we struggled to comprehend how the Iraqis
could behave like they did. How could a civilized people turn on each other and tear each other to shreds? Co
uldn’t they see that their long-
term security was more important than any ancient religious squabbles? Why slaughter each other by the thousands over something that was
supposed
to have happened over 1,000 years ago? Deep down, I think we all got pretty smug about the whole affair. We felt ourselves superior, more advanced. Americans would never do that, no matter what the situation. That’s what we told ourselves back then anyway. Now, I don’t feel so superior. It’s happening right before my very eyes.”

The
president
turned back to the map and studied it
again,
apparently hoping a solution would magically appear.
None did.

The map was actually a large flat screen monitor mounted flush in the wall. Feeding the big screen was a state of the art computer system housed in an adjoining facility. The
president
reached for a remote control and clicked a button.

The image of the U
.
S
.
map
rem
ained
, but three different colors now overlaid the
states
. The blue tinted areas were those under control of the government. The green areas were known to be organized, but not under the government
’s
control, at least
not
at the federal level. The third color wa
s red, depicting areas that
had a status of “unknown.” The vast majority of the map was red.

The POTUS shook his head. It seemed like the blue areas continued to shrink every day.
He turned to Agent Powell, ready to make another remark, when there was a knock on the do
or
,
and the
president
’s secretary
came in.

“Mr.
President
, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs
is here. S
hould I show him in
,
sir?”

“Please
,
show
him
in
,
Martha
.”

A few moments later, General Truman P. Wilson was shown into the conference room.
After the expected social pleasantries w
ere exchanged, the g
eneral made his way
to the large conference table and ope
ned his brief
case. He pulled out a stack of papers, a pad of paper
,
and a pen.
H
e stood
at attention
and waited for his commander to sit, but the
president
seemed not to notice
, instead indic
ating
General
Wilson
should join him
beside the large display.

“General, I see that Indianapolis has turned from blue to red. Do you have an update?”

“Sir, I do. The Marion County are
a, or greater Indianapolis, was being held by the 38
th
Inf
antry Division, mostly Indiana g
uardsmen. As you know sir, there was an
incident three weeks ago when
several Marion county sheriff deputies attempted to leave the city limits. The
forty
or so men claimed their families were starving and were not being protected by
the
Army. The commander on the ground, who has now been replaced, overreacted
,
and several of the deputies were killed or injured in the ensuing firefight.
The aftermath
has
resulted in
an increasing cycle of civil unrest. The 38
th
has experienced a higher percentage of attempted re
signations by its officer corps
and hundreds of soldiers abandoning their posts.
But yesterd
ay, we lost all contact
. We don’t know if
the commanding general
has decided to go rogue, if a mutiny has occurred
,
or some other type of control is now being exercised.”

“
Damn it!
Th
at is four cities
in the last week.”

“Five
,
S
ir. We
lost contact with Miami as of two hours ago. The map will be updated soon.”

The
president
shook his head, thinking back to the comment made a few minutes ago to Agent Powell. He turned to the officer and questioned, “General,
I know we are having a staff meeting later, but given your
news
this morning, could you provide me with a fresh statu
s of our plan’s progress
?”

The general returned to the conference table
and shuffled through the first few pages. “
I’m sorry
, Mr.
President
.
I do
n’t
have the latest information with me. I can have it brought over
,
sir?
”

The
president
nodded and drifted off in thought.

A
lmost
two
months had passed since the t
errorist
s
had killed hundreds of thousands of Americans using nerve gas. The combination of
the S
econd Great Depression and th
ose
attacks had
resulted in anarchy
. The
president
, living in the bubble that was unavoidably associated with his office
, had been isolated and unaware of the pain and suffering of his people. That bubble was soon to burst.

The National
Mall
in Washington
had been the scene of
almost
daily demonstrations
for months. Some of these gatherings involved
200,000 or more people.
As the economy worsened, the demonstrations gradually become protests. In the last months before the terror attack
s, confrontation with the D.C. p
olice became common. After the terrorist’s attack
s and the subsequent withdraw of
the United States from the United Nations, things got downright violent.

The Secr
et Service and the Pentagon
tried to get the
president
to move all executive branch operations to either a military installat
ion
or Camp Dav
id. The response was always the same.
“I
am not
going to be
the first
President
of the United States to run from my own people.”

It was a Saturday morning when the Secret Services
’
worst nightmare
became reality
.
There was a rally
sponsored
by several national
labor u
nions on the mall.
Intended
to send a message to the White House about unemployment, over 210,000 angry workers and 1,000 hired
agitators
jammed into the public area between the Washington Monument and the U.S. Capital building.
No one
really knew what started the rock and bottle throwing. The Marine Corp
s
garrison had sent over additional manpower to supplement the D.C. police
. T
he Secret Service uniform division was out in full force as
well.
There were over 2,000 armed men forming a human barrier
between the
protestors
and the White House
grounds
. They were overwhelmed in less than four minutes once things turned ugly. Some in the
c
rowd believed the police and M
arines
had
initiated the shootin
g to break up the demonstration. O
thers
were so frustrated with
the federal government they relished
any opportunity to fight back.
As the first line of police officers fell to the barrage of rocks, bottles and
other projectiles,
participants picked up the
weapons and used them against the remaining guards. 

Even though
protests
were a daily event, the news media
still
covered every
demonstration. It was a quick thinking engineer, several blocks away in a satellite truck, who realized
there was
something different
about what was happening at the White House
today
. He initiated an interruption of normal programming with the now, ever
so common breaking news alert.

American viewers were shown an image of thousands of people climbing the fence surrounding the White House. Secret Service agents with sub-machine guns were spraying automatic fire
into
the
crowd
, some of whom
were shooting back. Seconds later
,
the view switched to
an aerial
shot
from a h
elicopter
. A wall of people was
pictured
pushing
against
the heavy steel fence
surrounding the White House
.
Suddenly, a post
gave way
, and the throng poured
on
to
the south lawn
. T
he Secret Service snipers on the roof of the White House
could only stop a
small percentage
of the rushing mob
.