The Fiery Trial

Copyright 2013, Adam Teiichi Yoshida

"The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation."

- Abraham Lincoln

"Hence it comes that all armed prophets have been victorious, and all unarmed prophets have been destroyed."

- Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

CHAPTER ONE

Sarajevo 

The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

"There must be someone in this fucking building who knows what the fuck is happening," raged General Martin Walker, the Army Vice-Chief of Staff, as he impotently watched chaos spiral around him.

"...The latest reports, and I must stress that this is absolutely preliminary, are that the President has died," said the CBS News anchor who had won the media career lottery by happening to be the guy hanging around that morning when it became imperative that they take to the air immediately.

"Can anyone confirm that?" asked General Walker, waving his personal tablet in the air.  There was no response.

"Well?" he asked.

"Fuck!" he shouted before slamming the tablet down upon his desk.

"An explosion occurred as the President emerged from the hotel, where he and a number of supporters had been celebrating his acquittal in the Senate impeachment trial.  I was standing no more than fifteen feet away," said the reporter from Fox News, "when a man emerged and threw an object at the Presidential party.  Deputy Chief of Staff Alexis Jensen – a close personal friend of the President and the First Family – was closest to the blast.  She is definitely deceased, I can confirm that."

This was one of those moments in time when everyone wants to do something but no one knows exactly what might do any good.  An attempt had been made upon the life of the President, and no one knew exactly what would come next.

"Our sources at the White House are telling us that the President is alive, but in very serious condition," said the CNN news reader.

"How the fuck does CNN know more about the President than we do?" asked Walker.

"They don't," a steady voice projected itself across the room as General Richard Hall, the Army's Chief of Staff, strode through the door.

"I just got off the phone with SecDef," said Hall. "The President's in critical condition at GW Medical Centre.  We're going to DEFCON 3 and FORCECON 2 worldwide."

"Do they know who did it?" a particularly bold staffer asked.

"If they do, they aren't telling me," said Hall.

Rayburn House Office Building, Washington, DC

"Dear God," said Representative Tessa Rowan as the coverage of the attempted assassination blared from every screen around her, "I hope that this wasn't someone associated with us."

A few of the people in the room shot the Illinois Congresswoman dirty looks for having been the first to vocalize what everyone was thinking.

"It doesn't matter," said House Majority Leader Terrance Rickover. "Even if perpetrator was a black transsexual lesbian Islamic extremist whose motive was to stop cosmetic testing on animals, we'd be blamed for this.  That's just the way of the world.  That's what those people are about."

Rickover stopped for a moment to gaze out the window into an early evening filled with sirens and noise.  The impeachment of the President, though it had ultimately failed in the Senate, had been a tremendous moral victory – a blow delivered on behalf of the productive portion of the population against the great mass of takers who supported the President.  What would become of them now?

"Now, though, we should probably face up to the reality that this was almost certainly someone who could be fairly be said to be on 'our side.'  After all, the timing is just too good – not two hours ago the President was acquitted by the Senate.  We've just spent months denouncing him for violating the Constitution, for trespassing against the rights of our citizens, and so forth.  Would it surprise any of you if, therefore, someone decided – in light of the Senate's acquittal – that more direct action was called for?  Even if that's not it, we're going to take a hit.  But it probably is it."

"Of course," he added, "that doesn't mean that any of us should be stupid about this."

Rickover stood up and turned to face the other members of the House Republican Conference who had gathered in the large room.

"That goes for all of you," he said, projecting his voice across the room, "I know that we all have disagreements with this President.  I know that all of you just voted to impeach him for crimes against the Constitution.  Believe me, I am very cognizant of those facts.  But today is not the day to indulge in any of that.  The media is going to be coming at us, charging that we created a 'climate of hate' – certainly they'll take another run at gun rights as well.  We have to play this out with intelligence."

Andrews, AFB

Vice President Kevin Bryan had not been at the hotel when the President was shot.  Instead, he'd been in the air onboard Air Force Two, headed on the outbound leg of yet another of those interminable foreign trips that were the curse of the Vice Presidency.  The dispatch of the Vice President overseas had been a deliberate show of defiance on the part of the President, a sign that he was 100% confident that the results of the voting in his Senate impeachment trial would be favorable to him.  As soon as the word of what had happened in Washington had arrived the orders had been issued to turn the plane around.  Someone else would have to be the U.S. representative at the funeral of the former French President.

"Any update on the condition of the President?" said Bryan as soon as Raul Emerson greeted him at the door of the aircraft.

"He's in surgery," said the notably subdued Chief of Staff as he walked with Bryan down the stairs.

"The Secret Service wants to take you to either Camp David or to Raven Rock," said Emerson as he followed Bryan, struggling to keep pace with the 6-foot-4 Vice President as he rapidly strode towards the waiting helicopter. "The truth be told, they wanted to keep you away from Washington.  They've got the attacker, but they're still not confident that they know what's going on yet.  They'd rather you be in a secure location."

"Yeah," said Bryan, loudly and in the direction of his own Secret Service detail, "well, I'm just going to count on them not to fuck up twice in one day."

Bryan and Emerson quickly hopped aboard the Marine Sea King helicopter that was sitting on the tarmac.  The Chief of Staff looked at the Vice President carefully as they buckled in.  Emerson was a realistic man.  He had seen the wounds suffered by President Warren and he had been a soldier once.  He knew that the odds were that the man sitting across from him would soon be the President of the United States.  What sort of a man was sitting there, he wondered.  Until an hour earlier, the Vice President had always been a problem to be managed and a factor to be considered, but never really a living and breathing human being in any sense of the word.  In their limited interactions since Bryan had leaped onboard Team Warren eleven days before the Democratic National Convention in Pittsburgh, he had always thought that the man was fiery and determined but subdued.  Today, however, his eyes were full of an intense energy and he could barely sit still.  

"The White House," ordered the Vice President, not bothering to wait for any of the rest of his retinue that was still busy disembarking from Air Force Two.  Within thirty seconds the helicopter was in the air.

"You said that they've got the guy?" Bryan asked Emerson.

"Yeah," replied the Chief of Staff, "they've kept it out of the news so far.  They don't have a full picture.  Apparently he's ex-military.  Had both a political and personal grudge against the President.  We haven't released anything yet."

"This is domestic, then," stated the Vice President

"It appears to be," confirmed Emerson.

The flight from Andrews to the downtown Washington was completed in minutes.

"We'll put you down and the Secret Service will have a limo waiting..." said Emerson.

"No," said the Vice President, "put us down on the South Lawn."

"With all due respect, Mr. Vice President," said the Chief of Staff, "only the President lands on the South Lawn."

Bryan looked at Emerson with disdain and then turned to the pilot.

"Put us down on the South Lawn," he ordered.

United States Secret Service Field Office, District of Columbia

Everyone had tried to grab the would-be assassin.  In theory, the FBI had exclusive jurisdiction over Presidential assassination attempts.  However, in practice, the odds that the Secret Service – burned by its failure to protect President Warren – would let the man go immediately were effectively zero.

"You must understand, gentlemen," Major Mark Varro told his captors, "that I have nothing against any of you.  Indeed, I consider myself to still be in service to the United States, as you are, albeit on detached duty."

"Shut up," the agent said to him, roughly grabbing him by the arm and pulling him forward.

"Look," said Varro, "I understand that what I did will have adverse consequences for some of you, and for that I am sorry.  If it is any comfort to you, you should know – as I know, for I have been on the other side of this sort of thing – that there is nothing else that you could have done.  But the blow that I struck against tyranny was a necessity and the American people, once they are allowed to see the truth, will see that.  Indeed, they shall march through the streets and cry peace, freedom, and liberty."

"Sit down and shut the fuck up," ordered the agent, as he roughly shoved Varro into an interrogation room.  Varro responded by moving a few steps forward into the room, adjusting his uniform as best as his handcuffed state would allow, and then softly taking a seat.

After a few minutes, the door opened.  A balding man in his early forties, wearing a light beige suit and thick glasses, stepped through the door.

"Good afternoon," he said, "I'm Antonio Olufsen, an Assistant United States Attorney for the District of Columbia."

"I am aware of your work, Mr. Olufsen," said Varro noncommittally.

"Now," said Olufsen, "I am given to understand that you wish to make a statement."

"Yes," said Major Varro, "although, actually, when I was searched on my way into this facility a memory card was taken from me.  It contained a complete statement on my part – though, of course – it would need to be slightly updated to reflect the events of the last few hours."

"We'll go through that," said Olufsen, "but, before we continue: you can confirm that you have been read your rights and informed of your right to counsel?"

"I am more than capable of representing myself in this matter and, yes, I have been informed of my rights," said Varro.

"Alright.  Then why did you bomb the President and others?"

"Because I swore an oath – and beyond that have a general obligation as a citizen – to defend the Constitution of the United States of America and the rights of its citizens.  Insofar as ordinary Constitutional remedies had – per the events of today – had been exhausted, I chose to resort to extraordinary ones to defend that document and those rights.  I believe that all citizens of this country have an absolute right, when any form of government becomes arbitrary and abusive, to alter or abolish it and that, very regrettably, there are points where the only available remedies to that end are violent ones.  While I am certain that the media – with its typical capacity for distortion – will label me a 'madman', I am in fact anything but.  I am an ordinary citizen who believes in our Constitution and is therefore willing to sacrifice his own life to defend it.  Implicit in my willingness to give my own life, I am also absolutely willing to take the lives of those who participate in the destruction of the Constitution.  I do not mean to say any of this offensively."

"I understand that," replied Olufsen.

NBC HD Broadcast Center, Washington, DC

As was his custom, Henry Cullen checked his smartphone up until the last seconds before he went on the air.  The final message he received, just five minutes before he was due to go on the air, was short and to the point.

"18 USC § 373," the text message read.  He didn't need more than that.

Like many in Washington, Cullen had failed upwards.  He had snagged his present gig as an on-air legal analyst for MSNBC after he had spectacularly been defeated in his attempt to convict a San Diego homeowner who had shot two Hispanic "youths" (using the universal euphemism) of murder.  The circus had cost the taxpayers of San Diego County some $4.5 million, but it had managed to gain him national attention and, as was customarily the case, the failure of the jury to convict the plainly-innocent homeowner in question was attributed to the ingrained racism of the American people.

"We are still awaiting word as to the condition of the President," said the MSNBC anchor, for the 23rd time that hour, "but we are now joined by our NBC Legal Analyst, Henry Cullen, to consider some of the legal implications of today's events."

"Thanks Brett," said Cullen. "Now, obviously, we're all hoping that the President pulls through.  Though, might I point out that the President was not the only victim today.  Alexis Jensen was a good friend of mine."

"As she was to many of us in Washington," the anchor solemnly intoned.

"I think that, in the coming days – regardless of what happens to the President – we are going to see a very strong push for a thorough response to this by the Federal Government.  Now, I know that it's being reported that there was only a single attacker – though I don't know if that's been confirmed yet – but the issues here certainly extend beyond the actions of that single individual.  There are people here in this country who have created a climate of hatred that may have incited this individual – or perhaps individuals – to act, and I believe that the American people are going demand that those people be held accountable for what they have done."

"What do you mean?" said the anchor.

"Section 373 of Title 18 of the United States Code assigns criminal penalties to anyone who 'induces, or otherwise endeavors to persuade such other person to engage in such conduct' – meaning crimes of violence."

"Ok," said the anchor, "but certainly that would only apply if people were found to have directly interacted with the bomber or bombers."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Cullen. "The test, established by the Supreme Court, is whether or not speech is likely to incite imminent lawless conduct.  I would invite you to review some remarks made by prominent commentators and public officials on the right and conclude that they have not, in fact, crossed that line."

"Hold on," said the token Republican panelist, "I think that it's obscene that you would suggest that opposing the President's attempt to usurp the Constitutional powers of the Congress in incitement to murder..."

"Right there!" shouted Cullen, stabbing his finger at the screen. "Right there we have an example of the kind of dog-whistle language...  the sort of 'who will rid me of this turbulent priest' double-talk that Republicans have been engaging in for years.  This is a country with a revolutionary tradition and when you start talking about how someone is a 'tyrant' and a 'usurper', then you are going to motivate some people to take extreme actions.  That sort of rhetoric nears the 'shouting fire in a crowded theater' standard."

The Situation Room, The White House

"The would-be assassin has been identified as Mark Varro, a retired Major in the Air Force," Attorney General Michelle Hassan began.

"Is he talking?" asked Vice President Bryan.

"He's more than talking," said Hassan, "he's actually already written a book on the topic.  He asked the US Attorney for a computer and a few more minutes to finish the last chapter."

"Has anyone read it?" asked Raul Emerson.

"It's pretty standard stuff.  Anti-government.  A lot of it is cut and paste stuff from the internet.  About how the President allegedly violated the Constitution and so forth, a lot about his duty as a sworn officer of the United States.  As well, he worked in the White House – under this President – and so there's a lot of... other stuff.  Unverified and certainly untrue, of course."

That got a few wry chuckles from around the table.

"Let him finish his book," said the Vice President.  That got a few looks from around the table.

"Look," said Bryan, "people are going to want to know why he did this.  Why allow for speculation to run rampant?  He's already written a confession.  Let's let him finish it and then publish it."

"I...  I don't have a problem with that," said the Attorney General.

"At the same time," said the Vice President, flipping through pages on his tablet, "we have to consider the wider implications of this."

"I've got a list of foreign leaders who have already called to express this concern," said the Secretary of State.

"And the armed forces have increased their readiness to prepare for all contingencies," added Gerald Ransom, the Secretary of Defense.

The Vice President waved his hands.

"No, no," he said, "I mean the domestic implications.  Obviously, I've been doing a lot of things, but I can already see the chorus in the media and on the internet – are we going to hold accountable the people who, by their actions, drove a deranged man like this Major Varro to take such extreme actions?"

"Mr. Vice President, I think that's a pretty dangerous path to contemplate," said the Attorney General.

"I think that, at a minimum, it merits strong consideration," said the Vice President.

"Mr. Vice President, I think that we can afford to defer such considerations until we have a clearer picture as to what is going on here and what happened today.  Passions are running very hot in this country and, to be sure, there have been some people who have said intemperate things.  Regrettable ones, even.  But trying to exploit this situation for purely political reasons would serve to inflame those passions, rather than cool them."

"Well," said Bryan, "you are the head of the Justice Department."

"Mr. Vice President?" the Secretary of the Interior raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Secretary?" said Bryan.

"Mr. Vice President, it's been nearly three hours since the incident.  He's still in surgery and we haven't had a positive update on him since he went in.  We don't know what will happen or when – or even if – he will be fit to resume his duties."

"Yes, we know this," said the Vice President.

"Yes, sir," said the Secretary, "but, in light of these events, I think that it would be prudent if we were to invoke Section 4 of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment at this point in time."

"As I recall, Mr. Secretary," said Bryan, "such an invocation would require the consent of both a majority of the Cabinet and of the Vice President."

"That's correct," said the Secretary.

"My concern," said the Vice President, "is that such an act might be taken by the public as showing a lack of confidence in the recovery of the President.  Indeed, even as a sign that we have knowledge of these events that has been withheld from them."

"I believe," said the Secretary, a former Governor of Nevada, "that it will be necessary for there to be a strong hand in the White House to guide the investigation and the response to this act.  After all, what's happened today was not – however you want to spin it – an attack upon a single man, but an attack upon our government itself.  In order for such strong measures to take place, there needs to be someone fully in charge, with clear lines of command."

"If the rest of you believe that this is a necessary measure," said the Vice President, "I won't stand in the way."

Rayburn House Office Building, Washington, DC

"How soon can we come out swinging?" asked Representative Michael Nelson of Colorado asked.

"I don't know," said Terrance Rickover.

"We've got people on every single broadcast network going off about how the right – you included, Terrance – are supposedly responsible for what happened here today.  We have to fight back," said Nelson.

"We don't even know the condition of the President," said Rickover. "If anything, they're trying to bait us into saying something less-than-prudent so that they can jump all over us."

"I don't think that really matters," said Nelson quietly.

"I think," he added, "that they're coming for us.  There's no way that all of this that we're seeing on television just happened.  These people didn't all just have their personal copies of the U.S. Code fall open to the same section in their laps on the ride over to the television studio.  Someone is driving this."

The Oval Office, The White House

"Thanks for staying behind, Madam Attorney General," said Acting President Kevin Bryan as the rest of the Cabinet filed out of the White House.

"Of course, Mr. Vice...  Mr. President," said Hassan.

"I am afraid," said the Acting President, "that I am going to have to ask for your resignation and that of your deputy.  I want you to understand that there is nothing personal in this.  Simply put, it is clear to me that serious policy differences exist between us and we do not have the time to iron those out."

"That is your right, Mr. President," said Hassan, "but I should warn you that I feel that such an action would look precipitate, both to the public and to internal stakeholders within Justice."

"Yes," said Bryan softly, "thank you for that.  I am aware of that.  But – if I may be so plain – I don't give a fuck."

The phone on the Resolute desk buzzed.

"Mr. Vice President?" said the President's private secretary, "Mr. Anderson is here for you."

"Let him in," said Bryan, making a mental not that that would be the last time that the secretary would fail to address him correctly.

"I'm sorry Mr. President," said the dark-skinned man who walked through the door.

"Not a problem, Jamal," the Acting President said to his Chief of Staff, "we couldn't all take the helicopter.  Do you have it?"

"Yes," said Anderson, "we put it together on the car ride back from Andrews."

Bryan took the document from the hands of his Chief of Staff and, theatrically putting on his reading glasses, began to review it.

"Basically, Madam Attorney General, it says that you – and your deputy – regret that you were not able to address the illegal climate of hatred that has led us to this tragic day and that, in light of this, you are offering your resignation to me.  I have another statement being drafted right now where I thank you for your brilliant service to this nation."

He took the document and set it down on the desk in front of her.

"You can take a few minutes to read it.  But not too long – I'm going to be going on the air in fifteen minutes."

Rayburn House Office Building, Washington, DC

William Townshend was sweating uncomfortably as he was hustled past Capitol security by one of the Majority Leader's senior aides.  The pollster and former Hill staffer had been out of government service for nearly a decade – comfortably ensconced as a policy analyst over at the Heritage Foundation.  Still, even out of the game, he knew that when the second-ranking Republican in the House of Representatives tells you to sprint to his office – traffic being such an unworkable mess as to make sending a car a non-viable option – there had to be a damned good reason for it.

"Bill!" boomed Rickover, stepping towards him and extending his hand.  The Majority Leader gave the soaked pollster an awkward up and down look before turning to another aide and saying, "can someone get him something to drink?"

Someone fetched a water bottle and Townshend tentatively took a seat on a couch.

"Bill," said Rickover, "we called you over here because we need to get a better gauge on how this is playing with the whole of the country.  The whispers that we're getting out of the White House are dark...  Pitch fucking black, Bill.  We've already seen this Administration attempt to twist their way around the Constitution...  Actually, since the impeachment failed I guess that we've seen them do it.  Now we're hearing that they're planning on using this as a springboard to launch legal attacks against conservatives.  That's what we're seeing all over the internet and no one is denying it.  What we need to figure out is how strongly we can respond, in a rhetorical sense, without getting pilloried."

The pollster steadied his glasses.

"The first thing that you have to understand, Congressman," he began, "is how hardened the positions of both sides are in this country.  On one side you have a coalition between a group of people, on one side, who believe that they are a divinely-ordained ruling class and, on the other, their clients.  Their positions are ideological, but they run deeper than that.  Basically you have the very rich, the idle poor, and those whose livelihoods depend upon servicing both groups.  They can form a transitory majority by pulling in all of these other people with these side issues – abortion and what have you.  What they share in common is that, for the most part, they don't really produce anything of value – but they believe that they have the right to be maintained in their accustomed standard of living anyways.  Think of them as a large coalition of alimony-collecting former wives."

"That's interesting," said Rickover, "but it doesn't really answer my question."

Townshend waved his hands into the air.

"I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it," he said.

"There's another large segment in this country – perhaps 40% or so – of the people who are violently opposed to this system.  They believe that they are cut out from making significant decisions about the governance of the country by the elites, that their culture is being transformed against their will, and that they are being compelled, like feudal serfs, to labor in support of a system that is fundamentally stacked against them in every possible way."

"Now, there are swing voters.  People motivated by side issues.  People who fall into one or another of the two broad camps when, from a demographic or economic point of view, they should really be in the other.  But, broadly speaking, we have those two camps and there isn't much movement or crossover between them.  Given this, elections and other political events become less a question of persuasion and more of mobilization.

"What I'm saying, Congressmen, is simple: come out swinging.  Be respectful of the President, of course, but you can't let them put you on the defensive.  If they are determined to exploit this tragedy – and, having spent the day reading Twitter and the blogs, I fully believe that they are – you need to punch back immediately.  Now, I can put in a poll into the field if you want to find a way to support that advice with numbers, but I just don't think that there's the time.  Hit back as soon as they hit you."

The Roosevelt Room, The White House

"My fellow Americans," the Acting President began his address to the nation, "this is a tragic day.  Some four hours ago, just after 2PM Eastern Standard Time, a bomb was detonated as the President and his aides exited a Washington, DC hotel ballroom.  President Henry Warren was severely injured.  Deputy White House Chief of Staff Alexis Jensen was killed.  Four bystanders were wounded."

"At this time, the President has been placed in a medically-induced coma.  His condition remains very serious.  Likewise, one of the bystanders – Ms. Jeri Corwin of Flint, Michigan – is in grave condition and not expected to live through the night."

"Given the uncertainty that surrounds the condition of President Warren, just over an hour ago the Cabinet – with my concurrence – invoked Section 4 of the 25th Amendment to the Constitution, making me the Acting President of this nation until such a time as the President recovers and is able to resume his duties.

"I ask that all Americans – and indeed all people of goodwill from anywhere on the Earth – to join me in hoping for the swift recovery of President Warren and all of those who were injured today as well as doing whatever we can to provide comfort to the loved ones and to honor the memory of those who were lost today or will be lost as a result of this terrible crime in the future.

"That is the what of today.  Tonight, I want to talk to you a little about the why.

"You will have already seen the confession of the murderer and would-be assassin, Mark Varro.  I directed it be released to the public in as expeditious a fashion as possible because I believe that you, the American people, have a right to know why this terrible crime occurred.

"There is a cancer in America that we need to confront directly.  There are elements in this country who fuel hatred for their own selfish ends.  By such actions, these individuals can and have driven unbalanced individuals to rash and evil actions.  The time has come that we hold accountable not only the direct perpetrators of these acts, but the indirect ones as well.

"How can it be that, on a daily basis, a torrent of hatred is spilled out across the airwaves and the internet, and it does not have an effect upon some people?  How can it be that those who spill out such hate – who use awful and emotive words like 'tyrant', 'criminal', or 'dictator' to describe our public officials – are allowed to persist in such actions?

"There is a line between free speech and incitement to murder.

"I have directed the acting Attorney General to begin an immediate and comprehensive investigation not only into those who committed this act, but also those who incited and encouraged it..."

U.S. House of Representatives

The new Congressman from California's 20th District brought down his gavel and declared the House in session.

"The gentleman from Virginia is recognized," declared the presiding officer.

"Mr. Speaker," said Terrance Rickover, "let us begin by saying a prayer for the President and everyone else who was killed or injured – or who has otherwise been effected by – today's brutal crime."

The Majority Leader bowed his head, joined by every Republican member of the House who had been crowded into the chamber for the Congressman's speech.  Direct addresses to the camera by non-Presidential figures, Rickover had always believed, lacked a certain gravity.

"Almighty God, we beseech thee to receive the souls of those who have been lost, to heal the afflicted, and to unite our injured and divided nation.  Amen."

"Amen," repeated a chorus of other Congressmen.

"Mr. Speaker, we have all heard the words of the Vice President this evening.  I must say – and I will say – that I fully understand the strain that the Vice President is operating under.  This has been one of the most difficult days in the history of the United States.  I appreciate that he is, as we all are, doing his best insofar as his conscience permits.

"Normally, one would begin an address such as this by disclaiming any political purpose.  'Now is not the time for politics,' one would say.  Or some words to that effect.  That is the old tradition, at any rate.  I hope I may be pardoned, in light of the circumstances, if I do not make such a declaration.  What I will say now is political.  I wish that it didn't have to be, but I feel that it must be so after the performance this evening by the Vice President which, all things considered, must be ranked as among the most disgraceful acts of shameless political gamesmanship in the history of the republic."

The assembled Republican members of the House angrily applauded Rickover's words, leading the House Majority Leader to raise his hands and ask for silence.

"To begin with, conflating ordinary political opposition with the act of a madman is fundamentally wrong.  Now we hear that the Vice President – I am sorry, the 'Acting President' now has an 'acting Attorney General' and they are going to 'investigate' those of us who allegedly 'incited' this act by opposing the actions of this Administration.  Never have I seen a more disgraceful act of opportunism by the holder of a public office – let alone by the temporary steward of the most distinguished office in the land.

"There is a very deep divide in this country.  I will not deny that.  What I will say is this: I, and many of the others whom the Vice President has gone so far as to accuse of being complicit in murder by virtue of our views alone, have never had any objective in public life but to serve the interests of the people.  I believe – as I believe that most of you here tonight believe – that the highest and best purpose of this government and of this Congress is to secure and defend the rights of the people as set out in the Constitution.

"Now, there is a contrary view in this land: a view embodied by the Vice President.  If you take them at their word – if you attribute to them no deliberately malicious or subversive intent _ then our opponents believe that the highest purpose of government is to see to the material needs of the people.  To the degree that the Constitution or the rights of individuals conflict with what they perceive those material needs to be, they believe the Constitution and those rights – as well as those who try to defend both – to be impediments to the fulfillment of their purposes.

"There is no compromise between these two positions.  We cannot meet halfway.  Either you believe that government exists to secure the rights of the people or you believe that governments exist to take care of the people.  It cannot do both.  Ultimately one must give way to the other.  Either the Constitution and the rights of the individual must be overridden, or you must accept that some things must never be done because they would transgress against the former.  The division is fundamental and unbridgeable.

"Both of these positions cannot be right.  Both may be wrong.  One must be.

"Yet, if we look to the earliest days of our nation, we can know with certainty what the Founders thought."

The Majority Leader pulled out a piece of paper and put on his reading glasses before continuing.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness – that to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed."

Rickover took off his glasses and, holding them in his hand, turned to address the House.

"Mr. Speaker, I apologize – my fellow Americans, I apologize for dwelling on philosophy at such a moment as this.  But I believe that, regrettably, it is necessary that I do so because of the attempt by the Vice President – I am sorry, the Acting President – to so stigmatize and, yes, even criminalize those who disagree with him.  But I believe that the American people ought to know – that most already do know – that our views are legitimate and founded in the best traditions of America.  We have not opposed this Administration out of malice, but because we have a fundamental conflict of visions as to what government means and what the future of this country is to be.

"Now, we can disagree.  Americans have always disagreed about such things.  But when disagreement is painted as criminal...  when Americans are nakedly threatened with legal consequences for their political views, there comes a time when a stand must be made.

"We are not enemies.  We have no wish to be enemies.  But we are proud defenders of the Constitution and we will go on being such.

"Let us bring the nation together, not tear it apart..."

CNN Headquarters, Atlanta

"...It was definitely an unusually bold address that the House Majority Leader made this evening in response to the speech by the Acting President," noted the anchor.

"Yes," agreed the theoretically non-partisan analyst, "though it hasn't been traditional for there to be an response speech on occasions such at this – when there is a national tragedy or what have you..."

"The Acting President forced the hands of the Congressional Republicans in that," noted one of the panelists.

"I have to tell you," said the analyst, "I've stopped reading my Twitter feeds this evening.  The level of vitriol flying back and forth is utterly without precedent.  I mean...  for years, we've all read comments and blogs and Twitter feeds and what have you and we've thought – or at least I've thought – that some of these people are so passionate that they...  well, I know that we're all familiar with the phenomenon of the so-called 'internet tough guy', but a lot of these people sound like they'd really like to do each other harm."

"Yes," conceded the Democratic commentator, "I mean, we can get our blood up in this town, but some of the stuff that's flying back and forth between ordinary Americans this evening...  it's...  well, it's pretty horrifying stuff."

"I have to interrupt," said the anchor.  Signaled by the control room staff, the cameras all turned to face him.

"A statement has just been released by the White House.   President Henry Warren was pronounced dead at shortly after 9:12PM Eastern Standard Time."

CHAPTER TWO

The Widening Gyre

Washington, DC

The nation's media had already begun the predictable process of canonizing the dead President and deifying his successor.  In death, President Henry Warren's uncontrollable sexual promiscuity was blurred into a, "warmness and desire to connect with people."  President Kevin Bryan's sometimes rapid-fire delivery of speeches and penchant for constant gaffes became his, "passionate and fierce desire to serve the American people, often by being on the leading edge."  In the days leading up to the funeral of President Warren, the media was filled with wall-to-wall coverage of the suddenly-martyred President who, many mainstream outlets claimed, had given his life in a titanic struggle to ensure that pensions were still paid to aged veterans, widows, and orphans.  

"Henry Warren lived his life for the sake of others," the new President began his eulogy, "and that is how he believed that we all should live.  He was not an apostle of greed and selfishness.  He was a defender of the common American."

The new President spent much of the ensuing twenty-seven minutes deploying every method that his speechwriters had found to accuse Republicans of being evildoers who had personally killed Henry Warren so that they could take money from the poor and use it to buy diamond-encrusted Rolex watches for themselves.  

"The life of Henry Warren has been bought to an end: suddenly and unjustly, but definitively.  We cannot change that.  What we can do is worth to fill his life and death with meaning.  Let his legacy be that we bring an end to the hate and to all of the greed.  Let the legacy of his life and death be that we all come together and work for all of America," the President concluded, as every Republican in the audience sat and ground their teeth: one could hardly walk out of the funeral of a President.

Across the nation, the words had their intended effect.

Seattle, WA

"We can't let the fuckers get away with this," said Harris Folsom as he wiped the back of his heavily-tattooed hand through his greasy hair.

Some of the people in the fair trade coffee shop were in tears, even though most of them had had little use for Henry Warren while he was alive.

"The only response left to us is direct action," Folsom emphasized.

"We know that the Republicans and the Democrats aren't all that much different.  But we know that at least, in many cases, the hearts of Democrats are in the right place.  They believe the right things, even if they aren't willing to go far enough to make them happen.  Republicans are just plain fucking evil.  They're destroying this country and we have to put a stop to it."

"That's why we want to go and join the demonstrations!" one of the other members of the "leaderless collective" shouted.

"Is that really enough?" Folsom rhetorically asked, with a smirk.

Seth McLean had been determined to go ahead with the fundraiser, even though a few people had advised against it with tensions running high and the funeral of the President just a few hours earlier.

"I'm not going to be intimidated by threats from those who want to eliminate opposition," he said.

The Seattle-based lawyer had spent the last several years rising through the ranks, eventually securing for himself the Chairmanship of the King County Republican Party in preparation for running a campaign for the House of Representatives from one of those districts on the outskirts of Seattle that a Republican might plausibly win.  He was a little pudgy and going bald, but he was an engaging speaker with a logical mind.  This has helped him in his day job as an attorney specializing in helping corporations to fight back against the organization efforts of unions.  

"We all regret the loss of any life," he had told the sparsely-attended dinner, "but we reject categorically the idea that we ought to concede any political point or reduce our opposition to the extra-Constitutional usurpations of this Administration because of the act of a single madman.  Tragedies do not alter facts.  Knee-jerk emotionalism does not wash away reason.

"The course of this Administration, both under the late President Warren and now under President Bryan, has been one in which the Constitution of the United States has been deliberately subverted in the name of their policy goals – the primary goal of which is, quite plainly, to make enough Americans dependent upon the government to assure their permanent re-election.  They aim to use the force of law – laws as enacted by a mob – to deprive others of their property in the pursuit of their own selfish ends.

"We Republicans are often accused of selfishness.  I will make no apology for what I am.  I was born to a middle-class family of no particular distinction.  Just ordinary hard-working citizens who'd lived for three generations up in Whatcom County.  Teachers, local bankers, grocery store owners – the kind of ordinary people who get up every day and put in the work that made – and make – America great.  They're people who worked for everything that they ever got and all they wanted to do was, in exchange for their infinite labors, to make their own lives and the lives of their children a little easier by the sweat of their own brows.  They asked for no special favors.  They asked for nothing to be taken from others.  They wished nothing more than to keep a little more of what they themselves had made.  Is this selfishness?

"And what are we to make of their accusers?  It is not remarkable how often those most eager to cry out that others are selfish are those who do no work for what they have, who wish instead to support themselves by taking from others?  I ask you, who is selfish: the man who works and wishes to keep what he produces or the man who does not work but believes that he is entitled to the benefits of the work of others?"

When the speech was finished and the dinner was over, a Seattle police officer took McLean aside.

"There's a large protest going on outside of the hotel," he said, "there's already been some property damage."

"Property damage?" asked McLean.

"Smashed windows, burned cars, and the like," replied the cop.

"Burned cars?  Where?" asked McLean.

"Under the hotel.  In the garage across the street."

"Fuck!" said McLean as he turned towards the coat check to grab his jacket.

"We're advising that no one leave the hotel," the police officer shouted after him.

The first movie that McLean had ever seen was Back to the Future, a film that his grandmother had purchased for him for some reason when he was just three years old.  The movie had remained a favorite of his over the course of many years, so much so that he had even stood in line to see the unsuccessful remake (where Marty McFly travelled back from the year 2015 to the distant past of 1985).  As a result, he'd jumped at the chance to buy a carefully-remanufactured all-electric DeLorean DMC-12 from a company down in Texas.  The car itself had cost $102,000 – never mind the $50,000 he'd put into customizing it.  Never mind that the DeLorean itself was almost irreplaceable, he fully knew that he'd never get back the money he'd thrown at those customizations out of any sort of insurance claim.  

"I'm leaving," he said firmly. "I'm not going to let any fucking communist punks stop me."

With a single swift move, McLean put on his jacket.  As he walked away from the futile protests of the police officer, he felt the special pocket that he'd had sewn inside of the bespoke overcoat to make certain that its contents were still present.

As soon as McLean exited the hotel, he could smell the smoke.

"Sir, I recommend that you stay away," said the police officer outside of the entrance.

"Fuck that!" shouted McLean as he began to jog across the street.

The entire street was closed by the protestors, who had formed some sort of human chain that the Seattle police were loath to clear.  From his vantage point on the street he could see that there were fires burning in the multi-story parking structure that sat across the street.

"THE PEOPLE.  UNITED.  WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!" shouted the crowd of protestors as McLean, keeping his head down, attempted to push his way through.

A red-faced protestor charged up towards McLean, his hand outstretched.  He attempted to shove some sort of leaflet into his hands.

"Stand up to corporate oppression!" he shouted.

"Fuck you," said McLean coldly as he attempted to move forward.  The protestor continued to walk towards him, attempting to obstruct his path.

"Fascist!" spat out the protestor as he tried to block McLean from moving forward.  

McLean, thinking back on a youth spent playing hockey, dipped his right shoulder and continued forward.  When the shouting protestor failed to move, he drove his shoulder into him, sending him flying backwards.

"Assault!" screamed one of the crowd.

"He assaulted him!" shouted a dirty, shrill woman as she furiously pointed at McLean.

"Fuck you!" yelled McLean in response, "get the fuck out of my way!"

One of the protestors attempted to grab him, perhaps in a futile effort to make a "citizen's arrest" for the crime of having dared to knock down the obstructive miscreant.  McLean shook them off and continued forward.

As he walked through the first level of the parking structure towards the elevator, he passed several cars that were already burning.  Striding purposefully, McLean made his way to the elevator and pushed the button to take him to the fourth floor.

The moment the elevator opened, he could smell the smoke emanating from the nearby fires.  As he walked forward, he reached inside of his overcoat and undid the zipper on the secret pocket.  Walking past a Bentley that was on fire, he turned the corner and spied the sight of his car.  He could see that two of the rioters were approaching it.

"Get the fuck out of here, you freaks!" he shouted at them.

"Fuck you!" one of them shouted back.

From a distance of fifty feet, McLean noticed that one of them had a bottle in their hands with a rag stuffed into the top of it.  In response, he reached back into his pocket and grasped the Desert Eagle pistol that sat inside.

"Get the fuck out of here, now!" he shouted as he continued to step forward, in the direction of his car.

"Which one is yours?" asked the protestor sneeringly.  

The first protestor turned to his companion.

"He looks like a nerd," he said, "I'll bet that he owns the fucking DeLorean."

"That fucking sickens me," said the second man, "millions of people in this country don't have enough to eat and can't afford health care, but these people spend more than most people spend on homes on their cars."

"Get the fuck out of here!" shouted McLean again.

The protestor with the Molotov cocktail laughed in response.

"Fuck off, dude!" he yelled in response as he pulled a lighter from his coat and moved to light the rag.  

McLean, watching as the flame made contact with the rag and the man flexed his arm to throw, thought quickly.

That's a weapon, he thought, and how do I know that he's not going to use it to kill or do grievous bodily harm to me.

Without further deliberation, McLean raised his gun and shot the protestor.  When questioned about it later, McLean would insist that he had – as is standard training when one practices for self-defense – aimed for the body of the man and simply missed but, in reality, years of firing range practice and video gaming had made him a crack shot.  Both of the .50 caliber bullets struck the protestor squarely in the face, transforming it into an utterly unrecognizable pulp.  As the man shrieked horribly, he fell to the ground, crashing down upon and crushing the bottle he had been holding.  The gasoline within splashed across the ground and up onto him in the seconds before the flame that he had lit caught up with it.  Within seconds the flames covered the whole of the man who, in his final suffering, proved something about the endurance of the human body by shrieking for nearly one full minute before falling coldly silent.

McLean, still holding the gun out, moved forward towards his car.  The second protestor, after standing motionless for several seconds, suddenly took in all that had happened and began to sprint off into the distance.

"You'd better run, motherfucker!" McLean shouted after him before he had a chance to really take stock of the situation.  Seth McLean's brain gave him just a moment to view his handiwork with pride before other thoughts kicked in.

Olympia, Washington

Mitchell Randall had not managed to get himself elected as the first Republican Governor of Washington State in a generation by being inflexible.  You didn't win 45% of the vote in King County in a statewide race running as a dogmatic conservative.  Yet, at the same time, there were some things that he just couldn't bend upon.

"I've reviewed this case from one end to the other," he told the reporter from the New York Times, "and I back the decision of the King County Prosecuting Attorney.  Who is, I might add, a life-long Democrat, for those who wish to bring partisan considerations into this matter."

"Governor!" shouted another of the mob of national reporters who had descended upon the state capital.

"Yes," said Randall, pointing towards a youngish man with curly hair.

"Is it really your position – as the chief law enforcement officer of the State of Washington – that a man can shoot dead someone engaged in an act of civil disobedience and then walk away without any consequences whatsoever?"

"My position," the Governor replied as the flash of multiple bulbs caused him to squint, "is that the King County Prosecuting Attorney has looked at this case from every angle and has elected not to charge Mr. McLean in this matter."

"Governor!  Governor!" the reporter from MSNBC continued to shout in his direction.

"Ok," said Randall.

"But, Governor, what do you think of the underlying principle?  Isn't there a more fundamental principle of justice at stake here?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," said the Governor, "I think that when you are confronted by a man carrying an explosive device that you have an absolute right to defend yourself and I am glad that the local prosecutor concurs with that.  Alright?  Thank you."

Fox News National Broadcast Center, New York City

"Alright," said the Fox News anchor, "it seems that Governor Randall has left the stage over there in Olympia.  That was an exciting cap to what has been a dramatic day."

"Yes," agreed Fox Senior Analyst and former Deputy White House Chief of Staff Owen Larson, "I think that most people, especially here in Washington, expected this decision to be pretty much automatic.  Indeed, most of the speculation among those violently opposed to Mr. McLean had been whether or not the King County Prosecutor would seek the death penalty in this particular case despite the fact that he is known to oppose it on a personal level."

"Indeed, I have to worry about the reaction to this across the country," noted the former Congressman, who was the single Democrat among the panel, "there have, of course already been a number of violent clashes since the murder of President Warren last week.  There was hope in some quarters that these events in Seattle, being the only death to arise out of these clashes, would do something to shock both sides back into sanity."

"Look, the prosecutor made the right call here.  The rioter here had a weapon – a weapon that could absolutely have been deadly and McLean had a right to defend himself against its use."

"Oh, come on," said the Democratic panelist, "I'm not saying that Harris Folsom was an angel, but was there any indication that he was a murderer?  He clearly intended to use that thing to destroy property, not lives, and we shouldn't take people's lives to defend cars."

"Prove that," shot back the former Attorney General of Idaho.

"That was cited," said the anchor, attempting to cool things down, "by the King County prosecutor in his statement earlier today.  He noted that the question was whether he could convict Mr. McLean of this crime given the evidence available, not whether or not he was absolutely guilty or innocent.  Folsom had a dangerous weapon with him and the only witness said that he was getting ready to throw it.  How could McLean have determined what he was going to throw it at without, well, potentially waiting to be burned to death?"

"They were only damaging property," insisted the Democratic panelist, "and, anyways, McLean would never have been put into that position if he hadn't charged into the middle of a protest in defiance of the orders of the police."

The Oval Office, The White House

"Why haven't we seen any action against the criminals who instigated the murder of the President?" raged President Bryan as he paced in circles around the perimeter of the Oval Office.

"This is a very complicated matter, Mr. President.  We've never tried anything like this before.  I mean, not in living memory at any rate," answered Lea Kensington, the Harvard Law graduate who, in addition to serving as the Solicitor-General, had been elevated to Acting Attorney General when the President had dismissed the former holder of that office along with her deputy.

"It isn't complicated, I want it done," replied the President.

"We're working on it, sir.  But we've got a lot of work to do if any of this is going to hold up in court.  We need to practically invent a new application of the law."

"It doesn't need to be clean," said the President, "it doesn't even need to result in convictions.  At least, not immediately.  I just want to get those fuckers hauled in front of a Grand Jury and I want them walking in front of cameras.  Is that clear?"

"That...  That would be easier, Mr. President," replied Kensington, shifting nervously in front of the desk.

"That's fine," said Bryan, looking up at the Solicitor-General, "now what about this business in Seattle?"

"The shooting of the protestor?" said Kensington.

"Look, Madame Solicitor-General, I know that you folks at Justice are very busy, especially right now," said newly-minted White House Chief of Staff Jamal Anderson from the side of the desk, "but you need to keep your heads up and look around.  #JusticeForHarris is the top hashtag on Twitter today and it was yesterday as well."

"Right," said Kensington, "but we've looked into it.  As regrettable as it is that the King County Attorney didn't proceed, I don't think that we have any jurisdiction over what, ultimately, is a local homicide."

"I think that you're wrong there," said Anderson as he slapped a file down on the Presidential desk.

"What's this?" asked Kensington as she picked up the file folder.

"Ballistics, straight from the Seattle PD," replied Anderson as the Solicitor-General flipped through he file.

"I don't understand what I'm looking at here," replied Kensington.  Anderson grabbed the file from her hands, flipped to a particular page, and then slammed it down on the desk, pointing his finger at a sheet with numbers about McLean's gun.

"There," said Anderson.  Kensington looked at him quizzically.

"Look at the measurements of the bore of the gun.  Just over half an inch.  By a fraction of a millimeter."

"So?" said Kensington.

"That makes it a 'destructive device' and hence a weapon of mass destruction under Federal Law," said Anderson.

"That's pretty fucking thin...  pardon me, Mr. President," replied Kensington.

"We'd appreciate it if you looked into it," said the President with a bland smile.

"Yes...  Mr. President," said the Solicitor-General after a long pause as the President blankly stared at her.  After an uncomfortable silence that persisted for nearly ten seconds, she finally took the cue and left the room as the President began to walk aimlessly around the perimeter of the Oval Office.

"Jamal," said the President, the rate of his speech rising rapidly, "she definitely had a point.  I'll admit that.  There's not a lot there to justify a legal proceeding.  We need to add urgency to the matter."

"We've got our best spinners on it.  Our friends in the media are all pretty much on the same page on this one," said the Chief of Staff.

"I know that, but I think that we're going to need a little bit of extra help on this one.  Do you remember that guy – the one who worked on the campaign in New Hampshire?  The CIA guy?  He wrote a book.  It was pretty good.  Did you read it?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Get him.  I want to talk to him."

The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

General Richard Hall was a tired man.  It was true enough that the majority of the armed forces were, so far as their personal politics went, Republicans.  Indeed, General Hall had voted for the GOP candidate in every single Presidential election in which he had been eligible to vote.  But the armed forces themselves were not a partisan institution.  In his opinion it was vital that they remained exactly that way.  As a result of this conviction, the Army Chief of Staff had spent the nine days since the assassination of President Warren in what appeared to him to be an increasingly futile effort to reign in the politicization of the military.  

"General," he said, "I shouldn't have to remind you that, as an officer of the United States Army, you have an obligation to follow the orders of your Commander-in-Chief as well as to ensure that adequate respect is displayed for the chain of command."

The commander of the Third Infantry Division, Major General Gregory Starnes, looked straight ahead as Hall continued his lecture.

"Holding mandatory lectures on the Constitution?  How is that going to be taken in this moment of national trauma?"

"General," replied Starnes, "the oath that I and every other man of the division swore was to the Constitution first and above all other things.  I consider it a part of my duty as an officer to ensure that the men and women under my command are educated about every facet of their duties."

"Cut the bullshit, General.  You know exactly what I mean and you know why you can't just go about doing things like what you did.  Yes, you swore an oath to the Constitution and I swore an oath to the Constitution as well, but that oath was to follow the Constitution, not to interpret it and educate others as to that interpretation.  We both know that these lectures of yours were hardly unbiased."

The tone of Starnes' voice dropped.

"Richard, sometimes the truth is biased."

"Greg," replied Hall, "I know that.  But I also know what my duty is.  There are riots going on all over this country every single night.  People have been killed already.  It might be that we're going to have to do something that we haven't done in decades and roll on in with active-duty soldiers to restore order in some places.  If the Army is seen as being on one side or another, that means that we're going to have to shoot our way in to some places.  Do you really want to have to try and move on Atlanta like we did on Baghdad twenty years ago?"

"Never mind the fact that the people under you are just, in the end, ordinary men and women.  Extraordinarily brave and noble examples of each, I will grant you.  But, in the end, flawed in the same way that all humans are.  If you shatter the unity of our military, not everyone is going to jump the same way.  Do you want to have shootouts in barracks?"

"Of course not," said Starnes, "but I do know that sometimes history demands that men make hard choices."

"Ah," said Hall, "that's the problem.  Because it isn't just about you.  There are thousands of would-be great men and they'll all make their own hard choices and where does that leave us?  We have the law and we have the Constitution  –  the Constitution that you, as you have so vividly reminded me, swore an oath to – so that we can settle these disputes without shooting at one another.  Because, even if you and everyone else who thought one way – and you damned well know that I am in agreement with your politics, Greg – were to shoot their way to Constitutional restoration, why should the next lot respect the Constitution?  Why won't the next disagreement end in bloodshed as well and the next and the one after that until some stronger hand steps in to make certain that there won't be any more disagreements for a while."

"I don't know," Starnes finally replied, "I just know that this can't go on forever."

"I think that you need to trust in democracy, General," said Hall.

"Democracy?" Starnes spat back, "you mean a system where a handful of Ivy League elitists take control of every single institution of significance and run the country into the ground while serving their own ends by buying off everyone with an IQ below 90 or so by offering them "free" goods of all sorts?  With all due respect, sir, I took an oath to the Constitution of the United States, not to the whims of the mob."

"General," said Hall, "I respect your right to your individual beliefs, but if you were to say such a thing in public, I would be forced to relieve you immediately.  You understand that, right?"

"Yes sir," replied Starnes.

"Ok," said Hall, "get back to Georgia and run your Division, General.  Knock this nonsense off."

Federal Reserve Bank of New York, Manhattan

"I think that we're pretty much out of ammunition," Daniel Hampton quietly admitted.

Looking at the numbers scrolling across his screen, the President of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York recalled what Ernest Hemingway had written: that people go bankrupt, "slowly, then all at once."  In the months since the President had availed himself of the so-called "Platinum Coin option" to evade the debt limit, the global marketplace had progressively lost confidence in the U.S. Dollar and dollar-denominated assets.  Hampton had known that the trouble was serious from day one; he had begun to suspect that it was irreversible when the oil-backed bonds issued by the so-called "Western Republic", the new nation created as a result of the revolution in western Canada, had begun to sell at a lower yield than Treasury Bonds.  Increasingly the only buyer for dollar-denominated assets was the Federal Reserve itself.  

"I understand numbers.  I have an MBA from Harvard, I've worked on Wall Street for twenty-seven years, and I'm the President of a Federal Reserve Bank," he announced to the morning staff meeting, "and I have no fucking clue what is going on here.  Do any of you?"

Around the table he saw only blank, sad stares.

"Well?" he asked.

"Fuck," he slammed his hands down on the table.

"Perhaps," ventured one of the members of the Board of Directors and the CEO of a fading department store, "some confidence would be recovered if the civil disorders could be brought under control."

"And how do you propose that we do that from here?  Should I buy a taser and march out into the streets and join the police?" asked Hampton.

"I don't know," said the CEO quietly, "I mean...  I don't know that I have any confidence that this can be turned around.  Scratch that...  I know that I don't have confidence.  We'll pulling money and assets out as fast as we can.  Everyone in the business community is.  Between inflation, lawlessness by the Administration, and now the rising tide of civic disorder, I think that more people are taking physical possession of gold than are buying anything valued in dollars.  And, frankly, they're moving that overseas, since we've seen the government decide to confiscate gold before."

"That's what's feeding this problem," another members of the Board, the leader of a large public sector union, furiously charged, "that, quite frankly, is downright unpatriotic."

"I have shareholders to think about," replied the CEO.

"Fuck you," one of the other members of the board interjected, stabbing his finger forward in the direction of the union president, "I know for an absolute Goddamned fact that your pension fund is moving assets overseas as fast as it physically can."

"We have an obligation to ensure that we can service the pensions of our members," the union leader meekly offered in response before gaining steam, "but there's a difference between investing and simply moving money overseas in order to avoid one's duties as a citizen.  It's the difference between getting a deferment and dodging the draft."

The Oval Office, The White House

"These numbers are catastrophic," the Secretary of the Treasury announced flatly.  The latest figures, not yet released to the public, indicated that tax collection had fallen fully 23% short of projections for the last month, indicative of a collapse in economic activity.  

"Well," said the President, "we always expected that our program would meet resistance."

"Yes, Mr. President," agreed the Secretary, "but this is impossible to overcome by any sort of conventional means.  Money is being moved out of the country at an alarming rate and people are choosing to stay home rather than get caught up in the riots and the violence on the streets.  Retail sales are down more than fall in tax revenue.  Employment figures are getting worse by the hour."

"Then we need to take more robust action," replied the President.

"Mr. President, we're doing everything that we can and then some.  The Federal Reserve banks are underwriting most of the economic activity – as least that which is being reported – that is going on in this country today."

"What you have to recognize, Mr. Secretary, is that this is an all-out effort by the oligarchs to crush progress.  It's been going on for years but it's been intensifying as we've gotten closer to really achieving something in this country and to breaking their power.  That's why President Warren died and it's for that cause that we must continue to struggle."

"Don't get me wrong, Mr. President, I fully support the notion of making the rich and the corporations pay their fair share – I'm just worried about the practicality of it."

"This isn't about the economy-as-it-was or America-as-it-was.  Not anymore.  Not ever, really," said the President, "this is about building a new America.  A better and fairer America."

"I understand that, Mr. President, but we still have to consider the fact that if this crisis goes on, then some pretty big companies aren't going to be able to make payroll soon.  There will have to be massive layoffs."

"That's old economy thinking, Craig," said the President, "I want you to start thinking about how this is going to work in a new economy.  It doesn't make any sense to me that we have tens of millions out of work and people getting laid off by the millions when these corporations are sitting on Trillions of dollars in cash.  Sometimes in life, there are simple answers.  I think it was Reagan who said that, actually.  Not easy, but simple."

U.S. Senate

"All of us have good reason to denounce civil disturbances of all sorts," explained Senator Dianne Dawson of New York, "including those that we have seen in recent days in Seattle.  Yet, at the same time, we all understand the anger that drives people to such rash acts.  The murder of a President.  Atrocities committed against innocent protestors.  The indifference of authorities to those responsible for such acts."

"Yes, Mr. President, let us denounce violence – let us denounce violence in all of its forms.  Let us denounce the excited teenager who breaks a window in a rage against injustice.  That is wrong.  None of us can excuse that.  But let us also denounce those who, safely ensconced in television studios and personal mansions, egg on deranged individuals to commit grotesque acts of violence.  Let he denounce the economic violence of those who would make billions by shipping American jobs overseas and then shielding the profits from taxation so as to avoid even having to pay for the benefits that the workers who they laid off now require.  Let us denounce the act of selectively refusing to prosecute those who have committed acts of cold-blooded murder simply because the targets of those acts were committing acts of vandalism.  A burned car does not justify murder."

The Democratic Senator from New York, appointed to fill the seat after her predecessor had been caught up in a scandal that had somehow managed to involve cocaine trafficking, homosexual prostitution, and inter-city bus services run by Chinese immigrants, had previously managed to earn herself two terms in the U.S. House of Representatives by spouting liberal platitudes and looking good on television.  Indeed, the thirty-seven year-old Senator's good looks, blonde hair, and astonishing figure – especially when combined with her initials – had managed to earn her more than a few derisive (and, let's face it: often sexist and bordering upon misogynistic) comments from her opponents.  She played this for maximum advantage, both using her looks for maximum advantage while using proxies to accuse anyone who criticized her for anything she had ever done or said of being a woman-hating bigot.

Indeed, those who accused her of being a person of average or below-average intelligence who had managed to succeed in politics based upon her looks alone rather missed the point.  Dianne Dawson could have easily used her natural assets and talents to gain a life of ease without effort.  Senator Dawson had chosen a life in politics because she was smart and ambitious: she chose to speak primarily in liberal platitudes because it allowed her to avoid being pinned down on policy specifics and to cast moderate votes without ever being called to account for it by her left-wing constituents or the national media.  This, she knew, would be of tremendous assistance when she sought to fulfill her ambition of becoming the first woman to become the President of the United States.

"What's the latest from Seattle?" she asked Melanie McCullough, her Deputy Press Secretary and close alliterative compatriot as soon as she stepped off the Senate floor.

"More window smashing.  A little bit of tear gas.  The police tried to arrest some people, but they turned them back."

The Senator shook her head.

"This is getting dangerous.  I don't know if the passions that are being unleashed here are so easily controlled."

"A President was murdered.  So was another innocent man," said the aide.

"I know.  I know.  Anything from back home?"

"The NYPD have the city locked up pretty tight.  I don't think that they'd let anything get out of control like it did in Seattle."

"Alright," replied the Senator, walking three steps ahead of her aide, "this is another day.  What's next?"

The Oval Office, The White House

The President was watching himself on television.

"We all regret this awful act.  But this is not the way for anyone to vent their anger.  A full review is being conducted by the Department of Justice..."

He turned off the set and turned to the man in front of him.

"Mr. President," said the man, turning his eyes from side to side, "usually these things are done at arms-length, for obvious reasons."

"I know...  But I don't know if I have any intermediaries that can be trusted with the sort of work that you do.  This really is the most lonely place in the world."

"Have you had this place swept?"

"We keep it pretty clean," said Bryan.

"No.  No.  For listening devices."

"Umm...  I suppose so.  I mean, there are people..." said the President, but before he could finish his sentence, the man had pulled an electronic device out of his bag and began to walk around the edge of the room, waving it in the air.

Then-Governor Bryan had first met the man, who went by the name Jack Deckard, at a campaign stop in New Hampshire nearly six years earlier.  Deckard was an ex-CIA operative who had written a best-selling book discussing how the CIA and the rest of the U.S. intelligence community had been used to enhance corporate profits, rather than to serve the interests of the American people.  

Deckard had been an early and eager volunteer for the nascent Bryan campaign and had somehow quickly obtained control of the campaign's security apparatus.  The intelligence community, he had explained to the Governor, was a tool the corporate interests that really ran the country and were out to sabotage him as they had done to every other true progressive candidate for more than half a century.  The hidden government of America would do whatever they could to stop a genuine progressive like Bryan from reaching the White House: they would blackmail him, they would drug him, they would poison him, they would even fabricate records and use them to destroy him.  As the campaign's self-appointed chief of security Deckard made it his mission in life to uncover all of the myriad conspiracies that were directed against his candidate.

Once the campaign had begun to take off and real money and operatives had begun to flood in, Governor Bryan had been convinced to quietly shuffle Deckard, who was generally an unsettling presence off the stage.  But once he had lost and gone off into his Vice Presidential exile, most of those moneymen and gone astray, but Deckard had remained forever faithful.  Now that he had genuine power, President Bryan remembered who his genuine friends were.

"Thank you for your help with the Seattle business," the President said after Deckard was finally reasonably satisfied that the room was clear of detectable listening devices.

"Let's not talk about that here," said Deckard.

"Alright.  But it helped.  Without that, we wouldn't have had the impetus to really act."

"I know, I know," replied Deckard hurriedly, "but now they're really going to come for you.  And soon."

"I know," said the President quietly, coming to a sudden stop and gazing out the window, "and that means I'm going to need to ask a great deal of you."

U.S. Courthouse, Seattle, WA

"This is fucking bullshit," Seth McLean whispered to his attorney as he was led into the courtroom.

Two days earlier, barely a week after King County had declined to prosecute him for murder or any other offense, a Federal Grand Jury had indicted him for "Use of a Weapon of Mass Destruction" on the grounds that the gun that he had used to kill Harris Folsom had a barrel with a diameter greater than one-half an inch, which allowed it to qualify as a "destructive device" within the wording of the applicable statute.  

"Just keep quiet, Seth," whispered the lawyer in response.

"I can't believe that a Grand Jury went for this," said McLean.

"This is Seattle, Seth, are you really shocked?"

As they sat down, the Clerk began to speak.

"The United States District Court for Western District of Washington is now in session, the Honorable Malcolm Jackson presiding.  The case of U.S. v. McLean will not be heard.  Will counsel please identify themselves for the record?"

The Assistant U.S. Attorney stood up.

"Good morning, your honor.  Casper Gillian for the United States."

"Good morning your honor," said McLean's attorney, "Jesse Watkins for Mr. McLean."

"Mr. McLean," began the Judge, "you are here today to make an initial appearance before this court.  You have been charged with violation of Section 2332(a) of Section 18 of the United States Code, the use of a weapon of mass destruction.  The maximum penalty attached to this charge is death.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, your honor," replied McLean.

"We waive the reading of rights," said Watkins.

"Very well," replied the Judge, "now, as to the question of bail..."

"The government requests that the defendant be held without bail, your honor," announced the Assistant United States Attorney.

"My client is a respected member of the bar and a noted political activist," replied Watkins, "and these charges are not remotely likely to result in a conviction.  We believe that he should be released on his own recognizance, your honor."

"Your client is charged with terrorism, Mr. Watkins," said the Judge by way of an answer.

"Bail is set at $10 million," said the Judge.

CHAPTER THREE

A Hedge Fund With an Army

CNN Headquarters, Atlanta, GA

"Within minutes of the end of the initial appearance, Mr. McLean's bail was posted by the controversial Praetorian International, a private military contractor which has been accused of war crimes in the Middle East, Africa, and the Canadian Civil War," replied the anchor.

"Indeed," intoned the legal analyst, "this is a surprising development on multiple fronts.  While Praetorian has been active in opposing the present Administration, they've avoided being tied too closely to any particular political cause as, of course, they are a lightning rod for criticism."

"The CEO of Praetorian issued a statement a few minutes ago," continued the anchor.

"Praetorian is committed to the principles of fundamental justice," read the anchor as the words were splashed across the screen, "and the prosecution of Seth McLean is a travesty.  The full resources of the Praetorian Corporation are available to support Mr. McLean and any other individuals who are victims of the tyrannical abuses of the so-called justice system instigated by this President."

"How rich is the Praetorian Corporation?" asked the anchor.

"For the answer to that question, we turn to our CNN Financial Analyst, Mischa Barton."

"Praetorian is a privately-held corporation, so it doesn't have to publish regular reports in the same way that a public one does," explained Barton, "but we can estimate the size of Praetorian, to some degree, from the amount of money that it invested in the Western Republic during and after the Canadian Civil War.  For example, organizations linked to Praetorian purchased more than $25 billion – that's billion with a B – worth of Western Republic Bonds."

"So, $10 million is a trivial amount of money to them?" asked the anchor.

"That's putting it mildly," said the analyst, "because we know that a number of those investments paid off handsomely.  As have other investments they have made, for example in the nation of Equatorial Guinea."

"Some have argued that the description of Praetorian as a Private Military Company is inaccurate," said the anchor, "that a better way of describing it would be as a hedge fund with an army."

"That's fairly accurate," admitted Barton, "insofar as Praetorian has a long history of making large and often very high-yield investments in unstable nations where its combination of private military forces and international political connections are then called upon to intervene."

"Is it significant, then, that Praetorian is becoming actively involved in politics here in the United States, or is this just an example of the personal agenda of Praetorian CEO, Augustus King?"

"Well, that's the billion-dollar question," replied Barton.

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

General Dylan Mackenzie was leading his senior staff through the latest table-top exercise.  His skillful deployment of strategic airpower over the previous months had blunted the region-wide assault on his forces by Islamic insurgents, but the arrival of additional oversight from Washington in the aftermath of the media playing footage of the damage done by his B-52s had left him, in effect, as little more than a ceremonial leader.  In that aftermath of that humiliation he had considered resigning his command, but then he had been convinced that there were other available avenues of resistance.

"Again!" he shouted, slamming his fist down upon the table.

"We're going to do this until we get it fucking right," he insisted.

Operation Deluge imagined the full-scale deployment of all of the forces available to Central Command against a general uprising by Islamist forces across the whole of the region.  Given the continued pace of attacks against the American forces that had been deployed, even Ambassador Nathaniel Archer, the President's personal representative in Jerusalem, could hardly object to it as a planning exercise.

"If we execute this," explained Mackenzie, speaking deliberately slowly, "we're going to have to do it perfectly, because we're only going to get one chance to do it."

"General," replied Major General Fredrick Kahn, the commander of the Fourth Infantry Division, "I think that we're having trouble with this because of the strange parameters that are imposed upon us in the exercise.  Normally we would have significantly longer to divide targets and we would have the luxury of more time to take them out sequentially, instead of practically simultaneously."

"I understand that there is an element of vagueness in what we're practicing here," replied Mackenzie, "but war is naturally ambiguous."

"Run the exercise again," he ordered before stepping out to a nearby office where both Israeli Lieutenant General Avidgor Aronov and Praetorian International CEO Augustus King were waiting for him.

"They're frustrated," Aronov gruffly commented as soon as Mackenzie closed the door.

"I don't blame them.  We haven't told them what they're practicing for or why they're being forced to run the same scenarios over and over again but not being allowed to share what they're learning on down.  Also, I suspect, a few of them have figured out that there are obvious holes in the plan and that there must be a reason why we haven't patched those."

"The security is necessary," replied King, "we don't know who can be trusted.  Even extending this as far as you have is a risk."

"You can't order divisions and brigades to turn and execute a major operation without any preparation whatsoever," said Mackenzie.

Deluge was originally conceived as a "break-in-case-of-emergency" plan to be executed when all other options were exhausted.  However, it was becoming increasingly clear to Mackenzie and the rest of his inner circle that it might be actually necessary to execute the plan and that it could be used in an offensive rather than defensive context.  This was being withheld from Ambassador Archer and almost everyone else in the universe because the details of how such a contingency might play out offensively included details that would conflict with the political agenda of the Administration.

Lieutenant General Aronov, officially simply the liaison between the Israeli Government and Central Command, but actually the most respected senior official in the whole of the State of Israel, was key to those plans.  The theoretically non-partisan "caretaker government" that had been formed in Israel in the aftermath of the nuclear attacks on Tel Aviv and Haifa as part of the price of American intervention in the conflict was unpopular among the Israeli public and the acceptance of the American demands for Israeli disarmament and de facto occupation by the United States by the previous government had destroyed much of the credibility of that nation's political class.  

"My men will be asked to execute more with even less time to prepare," he pointed out.

"A risk that we must run, General," replied King.

Vancouver, British Columbia, United Western Republic

Lieutenant General William Thomas Jackson saluted the soldiers of the Airborne Brigade as they marched down Robson Street in their brand-new dress grey uniforms.  The three newly-issued stars glistened on the General's shoulders alongside the fresh gold U.W.R. pin that had been issued to him and every other soldier in the Army.  The stoic General could not disguise his pride as he, for not the first time on this particular day, glanced down at the four (of five possible) campaign medals that had been issued to him.  It had taken weeks to settle on the names.  Jackson had been awarded the Western Rebellion, Liberation of Vancouver, Trans-Prairie Offensive, and Invasion of Ontario campaign medals, missing out only on the Albertan Insurgency campaign medal given to those who had participated in combat action in Alberta against Federal forces before the arrival of the official Western Republic Army.

The Grand Review of the Army had taken months to organize, as troops had been required to remain in Ontario and in other parts of the West for some months in order to enforce the armistice that had been agreed to first between the Western Republic and the Province of Ontario and then between the Republic and the Federal Government in Ottawa.  It had also been stalled because, once the final victory was won and the independence of the West had been secured, the pacifistic anti-military tendency that ran strong in certain quarters in the West, which had been largely suppressed during the fighting, immediately resurfaced.  The Vancouver City Council had actually gone so far as to attempt to assert that it had the right to refuse to issue the proper permits for the event, to which Jackson had tartly replied that he hadn't needed a permit to enter Winnipeg, either.  After that exchange was reported in the press, President Eagleton had stepped in and smoothed things over as best as he could.

Behind the Airborne Brigade came the highlight of the day: the First Armoured Division.  The division's Merkava tanks had been freshly painted and then polished to a high sheen.  The men and women in the Army in general, but this Division in particular, viewed themselves as nation-makers and were extraordinarily proud of their service.  After all, the Division had been the mailed fist that had smashed the Canadian Army at Thunder Bay and thereby one the freedom of the West once and for all.  While even Jackson recognized that the Army could not be maintained at wartime levels, he was determined above all other things to ensure that this particular formation survived.

The crowds cheered wildly as the tanks, when they crossed the corner of Robson and Burrard where the first Federal officer to die in the insurgency in Vancouver had been shot, turned their turrets towards the platform in a salute.  The tanks were followed by wave after wave of proud men and women who marched across the pavement for more than two hours.

Too soon it was over.  Jackson was invited to a number of parties that evening, but he planned on only putting in an appearance at the official ball.  When asked why this was, he would explain that it was because the soldiers deserved to enjoy themselves and that they would not be able to do so fully if they were in the presence of senior officers.  Unofficially, it was simply the case that he did not enjoy parties or social occasions in general and now that his rank permitted him to dodge them, he would do so with alacrity.  In any case, the combination of his personal prestige and the vast wealth that he now possessed as a result of the appreciation of his stock in Praetorian had opened up other avenues of enjoyment that had been mostly closed to him in earlier days.

General Jackson wasn't sure if his new attributes made him more attractive to women or merely gave him the confidence to approach women he would have previously never dared to speak to unless first spoken to, but his status as the greatest military hero in the West and a billionaire had let him pursue one of the hidden passions that arouse from his complex personality: having sex with actresses.

Of course, the General's politics made him – international fame and wealth or not – anathema to many.  But not all.  

"Those fuckers don't know whom they're dealing with," said the General, stabbing his finger through the air as he returned to the bedroom in a towel, resuming a rant that had been stopped some thirty-two minutes earlier.

"Which fuckers?" asked Rachel Sanderson, who had become mildly famous for playing a doctor on a network television series half a decade earlier, as she lay propped up against the headboard.

"All of them," replied Jackson, "in the Parliament, in the City Council...  I mean, don't they know who I am and who my friends are?"

"I can snap my fingers," he continued, "and I'll have ten thousand men and a billion dollars at my disposal.  We can march into the Parliament building and dictate terms to them through the barrel of a gun."

"I thought that you were a libertarian," said Sanderson softly.

"That doesn't mean that I have to stand by and be humiliated," said Jackson.

"Let's think this through logically," she said, "the people out here know what you did for them.  Why don't you just run for President in the next election?  I think that you could win."

"I probably could," said Jackson, sitting at the edge of the bed, "but that's not a complete solution.  We had a whole Goddamned revolution and the Vancouver City Council – on getting their city restored to them through the blood and sacrifice of this army – went right back to planning new bike lanes.  The problem is that society itself is sick.  I wish that we could dissolve the people and elect a new one."

"I think that's a little over-dramatic," Rachel replied.

"Is it?  We overthrew a government that had endured for more than a century and a half because of its willingness to use force to attempt to confiscate our wealth, and yet the new government in Vancouver is debating doing more or less the same thing already.  It hasn't even been a year!  And can you really blame them?  It's what the people want, after all, and that's what democracy is about.

"The problem is that it's increasingly clear to me that universal suffrage is the greatest mistake that Western Civilization ever made.  By all means, we should have liberty and representative government, but the idea of one-man, one-vote is founded upon the foolish and provably false notion that everyone has enough wisdom to participate in the government of the nation.  Churchill said that the best argument against democracy was a five-minute conversation with an average voter.  How long do you have to talk to the below-average voter to grasp their basic unsuitability to any role of trust and profit?  It was one thing for us to have one person, one vote as our system when the role of the government was appropriately small but, as it grows larger, it becomes inevitable that the state will therefore be controlled by a coalition between those below the median who realize that by cutting a deal with the right amoral bastards in the other groups, they can trade their vote for something of value."

"So, what are you going to do about it?  Roll your tanks back into Vancouver?"

"No," Jackson shook his head, "I can show them that I can play the fucking game too."

Seattle, WA

Deep down Governor Mitchell Randall had hoped to have nothing further to do with the Seth McLean/Harris Folsom affair.  The case was proceeding towards trial in a Federal Courtroom and the protests over the matter had largely burned themselves out.  The Governor had hoped to put the whole awful business behind him and prepare to run for re-election.  But any good politician knew that when your largest campaign contributor called, you had damned well better answer.

"Thanks for meeting me here, Governor," said Augustus King as Randall entered King's suite in the Four Seasons Hotel.

"Not a problem, Mr. King," said the Governor guardedly.

"Take a seat," King gestured towards a chair that had been carefully set out.

"I know that you wanted to talk about the Seth McLean matter, but I have to say that I don't know that there's that much that I can do about that at this particular point.  That's wholly a Federal matter."

"The trial itself surely is," agreed King, "but there are other elements and greater issues at play here."

"Oh, I know that, Mr. King," replied Randall.

"That's very good," said King, "because we need your help."

"Who, in this particular case, is we?" asked the Governor.

"Freedom has many friends in this country," replied King.

"Well," said the Governor, "what would you have me do at this juncture?"

"I want the State of Washington to join a coalition of other states that are directly challenging the unconstitutional actions of the Federal Government.  Not only in a legal sense, but in a political sense as well."

King gripped his hands together and then spread them apart, grabbing the arms of his chair.

"To be even more exact, we want you to lead the State of Washington – and others – towards the calling of an Article V Convention to propose Amendments to the Constitution, specifically for the purpose of limiting the powers of the Federal Government."

"I don't have a majority in the State Legislature," pointed out the Governor.

"Let me know what you need to make one for this," replied King.

New York, NY

"How much money did we make investing in the Western Revolution?" asked Augustus King over the video link.

"I'll grant that, Bill," replied the former Secretary of State, sighing deeply, "but this is a much graver matter than that."

"Is it?" asked King.

"This is what we do," continued the soldier. "We are national turnaround artists.  We find struggling nations – or would-be nations – with political systems in chaos and we invest in those nations and take a direct hand in guiding those places back to order and prosperity.  It just happens that today the nation that requires our assistance is the United States of America."

"Jeeesus," said the former Governor of Mississippi, "that's just plain fucking nuts."

"No," replied King, "it's not.  I'd remind you that, in total, we have the better part of a trillion dollars in assets sloshing around the world – that's an awful Goddamned lot of money even with inflation – and there's no way that we're going to be able to preserve that value if the United States maintains its present course.  Sure, we can – and we are – converting everything that we can and moving it out of the country, but there's a lot of real estate, plants, and what have you that we just can't move."

"You have to consider the possibility," noted the Governor, "that this President is going to come for us."

"Oh, I have.  We'll be ready for that," said King to skeptical looks from around the table.

"Look, gentlemen," he said, "I founded this company with a billion dollars and my training in the Army.  I did it because I could see the way the world was headed and I wanted to do everything in my power to change that.  I knew, even back then, that real change could only be driven by those with military and financial power, so I chose to turn what I had – and I had enough to retire and spend my life in luxury – into something that could really make a difference.

"It's funny, you know.  You go to school in this country and they're all about 'making a difference' and 'changing the world', but they don't seem to recognize that every change of significance that has ever happened has occurred as a result of the strange nexus between lawyers, guns, and money.  Well, now we have plenty of all three and we are going to use them."

The ex-Secretary shook his head.

"In for a penny..." he muttered before asking, "what do you need?"

"I already have it.  Billions in cash.  This President is attempting to extend executive power in extra-Constitutional ways, by abusing the Justice Department, by taking advantage of every loophole that exists in the law to print or to steal money...  It's only a matter of time before he goes further than that.  We need to fund the legal defenses of those who are victims of judicial abuse.  We need to organize Federal politicians and state governments who are opposed to the extension of executive power.  In the meantime, I want to channel money back into America.  Everyone else is selling, now is the time for us to buy.  Let's buy land, buy whole companies – anything like that.  Not securities, though.  I don't know what's going to happen to those."

NBC News, New York City, NY

"...This just in to NBC News here in New York City.  This is breaking news that's just been released by the Associated Press," explained the afternoon anchor as NBC and every other news network of consequence broke into its regular programming.

"The Justice Department has announced that a special Grand Jury in Washington, DC has handed out some seven-hundred-and-eighteen indictments against individuals charged with conspiracy in relation to the assassination of President Warren."  

"This," continued the anchor, turning to the network's legal analyst, "is just really staggering news.  I know that all of us were aware of the continued investigation and the empaneling of a Grand Jury to look into events around the assassination, but this indictment...  Which covers a mix of political and media figures as well as private citizens...  That's just really without precedent.  Is it not?"

"It is," agreed the analyst, "but the government believes that it has a strong case here.  The position taken throughout this process by the Justice Department has been that those who engaged in what they describe as 'eliminationist rhetoric' – that is to say that words that could be taken as suggestive of extreme measures against President Warren – were potentially guilty of Federal Crimes under existing law..."

Fox News, New York City

"This seems a stretch, at best, and a dangerous one," said the anchor.

"Well, yes and no," replied the columnist from the New York Post, "this is an untested area of the law.  What the Justice Department contends is that some forms of rhetoric, even if they stopped short of actually calling for the death of President Warren, qualified as incitement and inducement under Federal Law."

"Oh, come on," said one of the other panelists.

"I'm not saying that I agree, but hear me out," replied the Post columnist.

"What they're saying is that if you went and wrote something like, 'this President has to be stopped at any cost,' that's equivalent to a mob boss talking about a witness with one of his lieutenants and saying something like, 'it would be to our advantage if he stopped talking.'  There have been cases like that, where criminal figures have been convicted of conspiracy and what have you without actually issuing direct orders.  The Justice Department's theory of the case is that this worked in a similar fashion."

"That's absurd.  This is the biggest attempt by the Federal Government to trespass against free speech since the First World War.  Perhaps even all the way back to the Alien and Sedition Acts."

"Well, look," ventured the lone Democratic panelist, looking uncomfortable, "reading these indictments, I would note that the prosecutors have been very careful in this.  They haven't gone in and arrested every Republican in the country or anything of the sort.  My reading of this is that they've carefully only gone after those whose comments have crossed the line from ordinary political commentary into the sort of words that might actually incite violence.  And, I'll remind you, that we've only moved so far as the indictment stage – the whole of the judicial process has yet to play out in this case, but it will be allowed to do so."

MSNBC Studios, Washington, DC

"...It's long past time that we take a real look at the state of the right in this country," said the MSNBC host, "years ago, when Gabrielle Giffords was shot, a lot of people said that we had to look at the atmosphere of hate that was being allowed to build up – that was being fostered by certain individuals for commercial gain.  I'm glad that the Justice Department has finally approached this matter with the seriousness that it deserves."

"Indeed," agreed the former Democratic Congressman from Ohio, "it's long past time that we recognized – as has been upheld by many courts in this land – that the Constitution protects free speech, not hate speech."

"We see it time and time again," continued the host, "where people on the right commit these spectacular acts of violence and no one has done anything.  I just think that it's sad that it took the death of President Warren to finally bring about a true examination of the atmosphere of hate that really does exist here in America.  When people say hateful things about gays, lesbians, transsexuals, Muslims – all of the groups that Republicans hate – they often act to trigger acts of violence in others.  Now, I'm not saying that all of that is intentional or that all Republicans condone the murder of minorities, but it's definitely something that needs to be looked into in an official sense."

CHAPTER FOUR

The Crisis

The Oval Office, The White House

President Kevin Bryan read through his morning press briefing with satisfaction.  One of the great advantages of the severe polarization of the country, he realized, was that partisans on his side were apt to defend him, no matter what he did and partisans on the other were going to attack him under any circumstances.  The rhetoric on both sides was so continuous and overheated that the apolitical middle didn't really understand what was going on and, therefore, were prone to split the difference.  As a result of this, the mass arrests of political conservatives conducted by the Justice Department, while they didn't poll particularly well, had also failed to arouse additional opposition.  

The economy was more of a problem.  Its free-fall continued without abatement.  Even here, however, the President benefited from the lowered expectations of the American people: everything had been so terrible for so long that people were immune to bad news.  This presented him with an opportunity.

"This is iffy, at best, Mr. President," said the Secretary of the Treasury on reading the Executive Order drafted by a junior attorney at the White House Counsel's office.

"Perhaps," conceded the President, "but it really just needs to be plausible.  Is it that?"

"I suppose," replied the Secretary after a pause.

"Will it work?" the President pressed.

"Define work."

"Look," the President got up from his chair and walked around to sit on the desk, "the question is whether or not this will be able to be enacted."

"My opinion – as the Secretary of the Treasury and as an attorney – is that this will create a mess of litigation unlike anything that we've seen in recent memory.  The International Emergency Economic Powers Act was meant for, you know, seizing a Japan's assets after a Pearl Harbor or an Iran after a hostage crisis.  It hasn't be applied to individual companies before on the theory that their business practices constitute a hostile act in and of themselves.  I've held to your orders and not circulated the draft, but I expect that you would get the same answer from the lawyers over at the Department."

"The counsel's office has looked into this question," said the President, "and we think that we have a work-around."

He grabbed another sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to the Secretary who paused for several seconds to read it.

"John Marshall has made his decision, now let him enforce it," commented the Secretary softly.

"Something like that," said the President.

The Secretary whistled, "that's bold.  I'll give it that.  But what happens after that?"

"The greatest opportunities," said the President, who had begun walking in circles around the perimeter of the Oval Office, "come in moments of maximum crisis.  We all agree – at least in this room we agree – that economic reform can't wait.  Therefore we are going to create a situation where economic reform is the only answer to the questions at hand."

Cannon House Office Building, Washington, DC

"Alright, shut up!" yelled Terrance Rickover over the din of the whole House Republican Conference speaking at once.

"We need order," said Michael Halverson, the Speaker of the House, raising his hands in the air to no avail.

"Fuck," muttered Rickover.  He picked up a book from one of the desks and hurled it into one of the television monitors that hung in the front of the room, shattering it and allowing quiet to descend upon the place.

"Ok," he said, "I know that everyone is upset.  But we can't have this meeting if everyone else won't shut the fuck up."

The Majority Leader paused for a moment before calling on the lone Republican from Massachusetts.

"Yeah.  Go, Cal."

"They came and arrested a talk show host from my district.  They claimed that a broadcast of his where he said that the "President is violating both the letter and the spirit of the Constitution and we have to stop him" constituted incitement to murder."

"Look," replied Rickover, "I know.  There are seven hundred and seventeen other equally outrageous stories."

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" shouted a Representative from Missouri to general agreement.

"We need to consider all of our options," said the Speaker, "but I believe that we should let the justice system take its course.  Yes, these indictments have been brought and there is reason to consider them to be illegitimate, but I have confidence in our judges and juries..."

"Come on!" called out one Congressman to general agreement.  Rickover stood up.

"With all due respect to the Speaker, I agree with you: there needs to be a robust response to this.  I have one: let's shut down the government."

"That hasn't worked out so well for us in the past," pointed out Michael Nelson.

"I understand that," said Rickover, "but it's also the real power that the Congress has.  At least, without a super-majority.  We can refuse the power of the purse to this President unless he assents to laws that would ban his activities."

"The President has already repeatedly proven to be willing to exceed the Constitution and that he's more than willing to ignore laws passed by this Congress.  What's to prevent him from spending without a budget or from signing the resolutions that we pass and then ignoring the restrictions set out in them?"

"I don't know," admitted Rickover, "we'll have to cross that particular bridge when we arrive at it."

"I think," interjected Speaker Halverson, "that this is still a little bit premature.  I don't think that there's a public appetite for extreme measures.  The truth be told, the polling still says that the President has some support for his crackdown on what he insists on referring to as 'hate speech.'  I don't agree with any of that, but I think we have to recognize that there is that sentiment out there in the country."

"Bullshit!" shouted one Congressman.  The Speaker raised his hands.

"I didn't say that I agreed, Jack – but it exists," maintained the Speaker.

There were murmurs throughout the assembled crowd.

"Look," Michael Nelson took the floor, "there are times when the acts of a tyrant – and I use that word knowingly and advisedly – become intolerable.  I believe that this is one of those times and that, in view of that, we are now have an obligation to more than simply talk these matters over eternally."

"What would you have us do?" said Halverson, "we've opposed this President with a full legislative program, just as we did his predecessor.  We even tried to impeach the last guy – as you were fully for – and we are in no better a place today for any of it.  I don't know that there's anything more that we can do."

"Nothing more that you can do, old man," sneered Nelson.  He tried to speak further but could not make himself heard over the uproar.

 Olympia, Washington

Governor Mitchell Randall hadn't asked what had motivated a half-dozen Democratic legislators to flip their vote in favor of endorsing an Article V convention to amend the Constitution.  He was pretty sure that he didn't want to know.  That convention – with news that Iowa had also passed a resolution calling for a general convention to propose amendments to the Constitution – had been the biggest news in the land until just before the close of business on Friday.  Then a terse release from the White House Press Office had caused the world in general – and Mitchell Randall's world in particular – to explode.

"In accordance with the provisions of the International Emergency Economic Powers Act, the President has issued a number of orders that have the effect of seizing the assets of hostile foreign entities that have engaged in acts of economic warfare against the United States," was the complete text of the release, which was followed five minutes later by another announcing that the President would address the nation in an hour.

"I've just gotten the call," the CEO of a major software company was screaming over one phone line, "they've seized every fucking asset that they could tie to any of our foreign subsidiaries.  We're talking billions of fucking dollars.  No one here has any idea how the fuck our operations even work tomorrow!"

"This is out of control!" a talk show host was shouting on the television, "this is wholly out of fucking..." a bleep came a second too late, "control and we'll be lucky to get out of this in one piece."

The Governor sat down in his chair and allowed himself to physically sink into the cushions.  He was generally regarded as a moderate Republican in his politics.  In fact, he had managed to get the inside track on his opponent with some voters in the last General Election by pointing out that he had supported the legalization of homosexual marriage in Washington State whereas his Democratic opponent had been against it.  He was certainly no radical or revolutionary in his political orientation.  Yet, even so, the actions of this Administration were pushing him to adopt views that just a few months earlier would have been considered shocking or radical.  No one wanted to hold a convention to propose amendments to the Constitution because they were satisfied with the status quo.

"What if it doesn't work?" he said aloud to no one in particular.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Governor?" asked Sally Magnussen, his deputy Press Secretary.

The Governor pointed at the television.

"Sally," he said, "for the first time in my adult life I am genuinely afraid for the future of this country.  Its survival – at least in its present form – depends upon our ability to communicate and compromise.  And if we can't do that...  Then what?"

"I mean," he continued, "if this President – and this President does speak for millions – believes that he has an absolute mandate to continue spending indefinitely because he believes that the most fundamental obligation of the government is to continue paying benefits to people and, further, if this President and his supporters believe that it is acceptable if they must exceed the strictest bounds of the Constitution and the laws in order to do so...  And if those of us on the other side believe that this President, by his actions, is destroying liberty and, in fact, creating a dictatorship...  Where does it end?"

Washington, DC

Like tens of millions of others all around the world, Christopher Sorensen and Sarah Watkins were glued to the television waiting for the President to speak.  The junior lawyer and the elementary school teacher had shared a home for only a few months.  Like tens of millions of other Americans they, despite their co-habitation, did not share identical political opinions.  And, like many of those tens of millions, they were arguing over just which channel to watch insofar as the different channels represented wholly different versions of reality.

"...This is simply a usurpation without any precedent in the history of the United States," said the Fox News host.

"But not without precedent elsewhere," one of the guests glumly chimed in.

"No," agreed the host, "this is the kind of behavior that you would expect to see from a Latin American dictatorship...  From a Fidel Castro or a Hugo Chavez."

"And it remains to be seen whether the courts will uphold this," noted the Fox legal analyst.

"And it remains to be seen whether the President will even accept the rulings of the court!" interjected another of the guests.

Sarah grabbed the remote and changed the channel.

"...Given the continued flight of trillions – literally trillions – of dollars of capital from this country, money that was earned by companies doing business in this country and which was then moved overseas in all sorts of dodgy games to avoid taxation, I don't see how this was anything other than inevitable," said the MSNBC anchor.

"These companies," agreed one guest, "took trillions of dollars from the pockets of Americans.  Then they moved them overseas in order to avoid taxes.  Now they're taking these trillions – trillions of American dollars – and they're pulling them out of the market to avoid paying their fair share.  I don't think that there's a way to describe this as other than an act of economic warfare against the United States and, in that light, the action of the President is wholly appropriate."

"Let's go back," said Christopher.

"Fine," Sarah pouted.

"...This is a part of a pattern of behavior by this un-elected President," said the guest on Fox, "of unconstitutional acts by this President, who is relying upon the slowness and weakness of the courts and the fact that polls show that he has, if not majority support, then at least enough support to make impeaching him impossible."

"Not just this President," emphasized another guest, "but this Administration and its predecessor.  The problem is that, in the absence of a majority in the Congress dedicated to upholding the Constitution – regardless of partisan considerations – than there is no effective check upon the power of the President.  And then what?"

"Look," said Sarah, speaking over the host, "I don't see what's so wrong about this.  There is a law passed that says that he can do something like this and the country needs money.  Who else is going to pay for teachers and the police?"

"First of all," sighed Christopher in response, "those things aren't the responsibility of the Federal Government – or at least they aren't supposed to be.  They're supposed to fall within the control of state and local governments.  Second – the problem is just like that last guy was saying: if the President is free to take existing laws and either ignore provisions or invent new ones that aren't supported by the text, than the President has become a dictator."

"But the President only has to do that because the Congress won't pass the laws the people want..."

"That's why we have a fucking Congress, Sarah," he slammed his fist down on the table, "we don't have a Congress to do what the President wants.  Every single member of the House and Senate has their own electorate that put them in office and they're doing their jobs as they're supposed to under the Constitution."

"All of these laws and technicalities don't do anything to help the poor, or hungry kids, or – well, anyone except for the rich," said Sarah.

"That's not why we have a government.  We have a government to protect or liberties from people – either here or abroad – who would curtail them.  That is the essential purpose of the government, not to control the distribution of resources or to do any of the fine and worthy things you're always talking about.  That's charity, not government."

The Oval Office, The White House

President Kevin Bryan was circling his desk as the CEOs of a quarter of the Fortune 500 shouted into their speakerphones all at once.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the President boomed, speaking at a rapid rate as the controllers silenced every participant in the call other than him, "I understand that you believe that you followed the rules.  And perhaps you followed such so-called rules as existed.  Whether they were fair or not is another question altogether, but I'll defer it.  But the rules of the game have changed."

The controller released every other microphone at once, letting a hundred and fifteen voices turn the audio into an utterly indecipherable mess.  The President hopped and clapped with delight as he allowed the cacophony to persist for a full minute before resuming control of the call.

"The Federal Government is here to serve the people and, to the degree that it means helping you as well, I fully intend to do just that.  In serving the people I've used every trick that is available to me under Federal Law, but now I need your help.  The President can Constitutionally use existing law to raise new money for already-approved expenditures, but I can't begin the kind of spending that you're going to need."

The President signaled to free the audio feeds once again as he fell back in his chair and laughed for thirty seconds before beginning to speak once more.

"Yes, indeed, our goal is to preserve the jobs of the American people and to do that we will work with you.  Of course, in order to ensure that we get value for taxpayers' money, there are going to have to be some terms and conditions..."

Dirksen Senate Office Building

"I understand that, believe me.  I'll do my best," said Senator Dianne Dawson as she ended her call with the CEO of the Bank of America.

"Jesus," she breathed as she dropped her phone on the desk with a thud.

"There are more call-backs to make, Senator," said her scheduler as Dawson stretched out in her chair.

"At this point, what difference does it make?  Everyone is fucking frightened, and there's not much that I can say until I know what the President is fucking up to.  He hasn't said a word about this to anyone on the damned Hill."

"I wish that I knew what the fuck he was playing at," said Melanie McCullough, nominally Senator Dawson's Deputy Press Secretary but actually her most trusted aide.

"I wish that he knew what the fuck he was playing at," said Dawson, "the only Goddamned reason why Henry Warren put him on the ticket was to solidify the votes of disgruntled liberals.  No one ever thought that that nutcase would run the country.  Certainly, the party wasn't going to back him for President the next time around, no matter what he thought."

"What's he going to do next?"

"Who the fuck knows?  He bounced the Senate with this stuff – and he's struck enough of a populist chord that we can hardly just run away from him.  He has the wheel and he's going to take us all for a ride."

New York, NY

The Board of Directors of Praetorian were conducting an emergency meeting via a secure video conference.  During the preceding years, Praetorian had built up its own private communications network that was not linked to the regular internet in any way, shape, or form.  Instead the system used a series of peer-to-peer satellite connections together with a closely guarded and limited number of hardware units that had access.

"We managed to get out pretty securely," noted King glumly, "we've been moving money beyond the reach of the U.S. Government for years now and so I think that the total assets frozen on our end are limited to a few billion dollars."

"Just a few billion?" asked the former Secretary of State with a sharp tone.

"Yes," confirmed King, "just a few billion.  Given all that we control and the fact that we needed to keep some money controlled by foreign subsidiaries in places where the Federal Government has reach in order to pay expenses, we've gotten off pretty lightly.  There are a lot of companies that have lost significant portions of their total assets."

"Actually," King continued, "we stand to make a substantial amount of money on the upswing.  Though we don't know the full sweep of what the President plans to do here, he can only touch money that's 'foreign' in this context.  That means that he can't, unless he intends to go even further beyond the law in a way that he really doesn't have any legal means to do so – touch our purely domestic assets and also we're going to see very large gains on all of the precious metals and resources that we're holding."

"Hmmm..." said the former Governor of Mississippi, going through the papers in front of him, "this makes the purchase of all of those Canadian banks seem like a better decision than it did at the time."

"He's about to start," said the former Secretary.

The Oval Office, The White House

"Good evening, my fellow Americans," President Kevin Bryan began speaking, his hands gravely folded on the Resolution desk in front of him, "I am speaking to you tonight to explain several extraordinary measures that I have been required to take in order to ensure the continued financial survival of our nation.

"For decades we have struggled with a core problem: the growth of income inequality as exacerbated by the arrival of the modern cycle of globalization.  Different people attribute this to different causes and almost everyone has a point.  The increase of inequality is driven by greed, to be certain, but it is also accelerated by international trade, the newfound mobility of capital, and the startling increases in productivity that we have seen in recent decades.

"Last month a new factory opened in Alabama.  It uses advanced 3D printers to assemble parts for a new generation of Hondas.  Decades ago such a factory would have employed several thousand people.  This one employs one hundred and six – all either highly paid specialists or very lowly paid manual laborers.  This factory was built to supply parts for another factory of which very much the same is true.

"A lot of money for the people at the top and a little for people at the bottom and not very much in-between.  This pattern has been repeated all across our country.

"How do we assure the prosperity of the American people through this change?  Some would say that we should adopt a winner-take-all, sink-or-swim philosophy.  But I don't believe that that is what the American people want and that they have said as much by the election and then the re-election of this Administration and its predecessor.

"I believe that the modern economy requires the government to take a more active role in ensuring that fairness, empathy, and respect remain at the core of our society.

"Now, others take an opposite view.  And, in so doing, they have gone to extraordinary lengths in an attempt to thwart the desires of the American people.  The Congress has repeatedly attempted to use every trick in the book in order to force broad and across-the-board reductions in spending that would be devastating to the majority of Americans.  My predecessor found a way around this form of blackmail by using the existing laws of this country in such a way as to evade Congressional obstructionism.  Indeed, as it was that action that set off the storm of hatred that led to his impeachment and, eventually, to his assassination as well, it might even be said that he paid for his efforts with his life.

"The choice that I face – and that we face – is a stark one: if people don't pay their fair share, then this country cannot pay its bills.

"Faced with this choice – as stark as any faced by any President – I have made a decision.  I will not allow the many to suffer for the sake of the privileged few, especially when the few are violating both the spirit and, in many cases, the letter of the law.

"However, those violators – these malefactors of great wealth, as Franklin Roosevelt once said – have many resources and many tools at their disposal.  They can manipulate the legal system to evade justice for years and in some cases forever.  They do not believe that they have to play by the same rules as the majority of the American people because in most cases it has been many years since they were called upon to do so.

"Well, it's time that we brought an end to that.  Prior Congresses, in their wisdom, have passed laws that give the President vast discretion in times of national emergency.  I am not afraid to use that discretion in defense of the people of the United States.  Therefore, tonight, I have signed an order invoking certain provisions of the International Emergency Economic Powers Act.  Specifically, I have found that certain foreign companies – some of them subsidiaries of American ones – have engaged in acts of economic warfare against the United States by conducting grand campaigns of tax avoidance.  And, in view of this pattern of tax avoidance, I have ordered – pursuant to the law passed by the Congress – that the assets of those engaging in such acts of economic warfare be seized by the Treasury.

"This act, though, is merely the beginning of a process: not the end.  True economic reforms that will restore fairness to this country will require the collaboration of the Congress.  To begin with, it is vital that we protect American jobs by ensuring that the turbulence that has afflicted our financial markets ever since the disruptions created by obstructionism regarding the debt limit began to be felt is brought to an end.  To that end, I have spoken to business leaders who have agreed to a renewed partnership between business and government here in America.  However, the facilitation of this partnership requires the assistance of the Congress.   By passing the Economic Reform Act proposed by my Administration the Congress can ensure that adequate loans and loan guarantees are provided to American businesses and that, in turn, taxpayers are protected by the government's receipt of direct capital stakes in these companies in return."

Cannon House Office Building, Washington, DC

"My God, my God," repeated Congressman Michael Nelson as he watched the President speak from the Oval Office.

"This is third-world level lawlessness!" he shouted to his staff as the broadcast continued.

"I'd expect this shit from some fucking South American dictator.  But from a President of the United States?  We have to stop him."

Phones began to ring and buzz across the Capitol.  Major donors were going nuts.  Every Republican activist in the country was in a rage.  The phones of the Democratic members were ringing off the hooks as well – with words of praise and affection from those individuals thrilled at the idea of the President having taken such dramatic action designed to make others, "pay their fair share."

"Do you really think that Halverson is up to the job?" Nelson asked a colleague over the phone.

"I don't know," said the Congressman from Michigan's Eighth District glumly, "we don't have enough votes to impeach or to override a Presidential veto.  We can try and shut down the government, but I don't know that there's even much hope of that – the President can just lawlessly evade that and, without a basic respect for the Constitution either on the part of the President or his supporters in the Congress and the country, I don't know how we overcome it."

"I don't know yet either," admitted Nelson, "but we just have to fight like hell."

"For whatever good it will do," replied the Michigan Congressman, "I mean, if people won't listen to what the Constitution says, then this country has just become another cult of the Caudillo.  We don't have the authority to tell anyone to stop.  We can pass laws, the President can veto.  We can try and deny funding and it seems like he'll just take as he likes and dare us and the courts to stop him.  And who will?  Everyone in the Goddamned Federal Government will just shrug and say "befehl ist befehl" and move on."

Silence filled the line.

"Michael?"

"What did you just say?" Representative Nelson.

"Oh," laughed the Michigan Congressman, "it's a German phrase..."

"I know," said Nelson, "but that could be it."

"What?"

"An order is an order," replied Nelson, "yes."

Fifteen minutes later, Congressman Nelson and Representative Jon Sawyer of Michigan had managed to barge their way into the besieged officer of the House Majority Leader.

"Mike," said Rickover, "I know that you're angry.  You know that I'm pissed too.  We're going to have to be focused, though, and not let rage take over."

"I know," said Nelson quietly.

"Alright," said Rickover, "what's up?"

"Jon and I were talking about this, and Jon said something that triggered a thought.  How much do you know about the Nuremberg Tribunals?"

"Enough," said Rickover somewhat quizzically.

"One of the things established at Nuremberg – something that I studied and was emphasized when I was joining the JAG corps, is how and why the tribunal there rejected the so-called 'superior orders' defense.  All of these German officers tried to plead that, during the war, they had just been following orders – but they were convicted anyways."

"Right.  I know that," interjected the Majority Leader.

"Right," said Nelson, "but that's true here in the United States as well.  An officer of the United States has a legal obligation to refuse to obey an illegal order.  Failing to disobey such an order makes the individual in question guilty of a crime just as the person who issued the order is."

"Ok," said Rickover, "I follow that.  How do we apply that here?"

"Well," said Nelson, "even if we can't pass a new law, the public recognizes that we're a better-than-even shot to win the next Presidential election.  That's what the polls say and this stunt by the President might help him with his base, but I can't see it improving his overall standing in the polls.

"We can't pass a law, but we can pass a sense-of-the-Congress resolution to let people know where we stand."

"I don't know how effective that will be," said Rickover, "I think people already know where we stand on this."

"Yes," said Nelson, "but we can draw a stronger line than that.  I want to pass a series of resolutions that enumerate Presidential acts or orders that are illegal and for us to declare that our intention is to see that anyone involved – down to the lowest level – in actually implementing them is prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law at the earliest opportunity.  To be really effective, I think that we ought to enumerate the exact laws being violated by each order and the criminal and civil penalties for each violation thereof."

"That's a pretty strong measure," said Rickover, "I mean...  The Speaker won't go for it."

"No," agreed Nelson, "he won't."

The Oval Office, The White House

"The reaction is pretty much what you'd expect, Mr. President," said Jamal Anderson as they reviewed the overnight news coverage of the President's order, "the Republicans and business are going nuts, our supporters love it, and a lot of people are befuddled."

"That's about in line with expectations," noted the President. "What about the financial side of it?"

"Markets are a mess globally," said the Secretary of the Treasury. "Of course, we don't have any formal signals yet with regard to the U.S. indexes, since you ordered them closed...  But it won't be pretty."

"It'll be a fucking bloodbath," said Daniel Hampton over the speakerphone.

"Perhaps, but also a necessary one," said the President nonchalantly.  

"Market stabilization measures aren't working anymore," said Hampton from the offices of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.

"Their effectiveness is reduced, to be sure, but I wouldn't go as far..." said the Secretary of the Treasury.

"I would.  And I am in a position to know," said Hampton, cutting the Secretary off.

"We can't use the measures of the old world to assess the new one," said the President.

"How do companies pay for their operations tomorrow?" said Hampton.

"Well, I suppose that we shall require some emergency measures.  I think that the Secretary and the Council of Economic Advisors has already worked up some stuff on that," said the President, "I think that we're looking at a relief package much like that imposed upon the banks in 2008.  I don't think that the Congress will have any choice but to go along with it now.  I was in New York back them and I remember, from Albany, watching how much noise they made and how quickly they folded when the real crisis came."

"Jesus," said Hampton, "that's a hell of a risk to run, Mr. President.  That assumes that our credit and guarantees are worth something like what they were in 2008 and I just don't believe that to be the case.  I wish to be proven wrong...  But it's a hell of a risk."

"Keep me informed," said the President, before turning to face his Chief of Staff.

"Alright, Jamal, how much progress are we making on getting these conspirators tried?"

"We're definitely running into heavy resistance there as well," said Anderson. "Twenty-seven state Attorneys General have filed various legal motions.  Four U.S. Attorneys have resigned.  There's a blizzard of injunctions and motions to dismiss flying about from different levels of the Federal Court system."

"But we are holding the line?" asked Bryan.

"Yes, Mr. President," came the voice of the Acting Attorney General from another speakerphone.

"Good," said the President.  

"Now," he said, turning to face his legislative team, "let's talk about how we get our economic emergency package pushed through..."

Raleigh, NC

It was a classic rent-a-crowd, but that didn't make it any less impressive-looking on television, especially because the producers were careful to only select close-in shots that made it appear as through the lines of people stretched onwards into eternity.

Even before the President's announcement had become official, the word had gone out to the Democratic Party's organizers and hangers-one to assemble the troops.  Now tens of thousands of them were in the streets all over the country to celebrate the President's decision and to demand that Congress join him in, "rebuilding the economy for the middle class."

It was sociologically interesting, of course, that the Democrats had a tendency to prattle on about the "middle class" and "working class" while advocating policies that tended to harm both groups by devaluing work and imposing new taxes and regulations that served as a barrier to social mobility.  Moreover, the policies imposed by recent Democratic administrations had had the even more malign effect of devaluing what little both groups had in savings.  Still, Democratic dominance of much of the media battlespace allowed them to fool tens of millions of otherwise-decent people into believing that modern liberalism was somehow, all reason aside, in their interests.  Now millions of those people were on the streets.

"Greed is hate!  Greed is hate!" the crowd was chanting as they marched towards the State Capitol.

The scene was repeated in all fifty states, as local Democrats and unions frantically coordinated mass protests demanding that the Congress pass what was now euphemistically referred to as the "Economic Reform Act."

"The time has come," said one of the speakers, a member of the North Carolina State Assembly, "for us to reform the economy of this country in order to ensure that everyone pays their fair share and everyone gets a fair deal."

Cannon House Office Building, Washington, DC

"You can't be fucking serious: they asked you for that?" said Terrance Rickover as a glassy-eyed Michael Halverson sat slumped low in his chair.

"I think that we have to consider it," said the Speaker softly.

"They want us to ratify the illegal actions that they've taken and pass a few trillion in additional spending?  Not just no, but fuck no," said the Majority Leader.

"You haven't seen the latest numbers," said the Speaker, slurring his words from exhaustion, "the whole economy is on the verge of coming apart.  There needs to be strong emergency action taken if we're going to save...  the economy."

"This is a crisis that they caused," said Rickover, "and its one that well be turning into a permanent state of affairs if we don't stop them."

"I think that a lot of people think that there's blame that ought to be apportioned to both sides," replied Halverson.

"Bullshit," said Rickover.

"Well," said the Speaker, "the President was forced to take extreme measures, in large part, due to Congressional intransigence."

"Absolute nonsense," replied Rickover.

"This is a time when we have to put the country ahead of party or political advantage," said the Speaker, "I think that we have to bring this package to the floor of the House and limit amendments."  

"No," said Rickover.

"I think that we have to do this...  I don't see any alternative."

"No," repeated Rickover.

"I am going to bring this vote to the floor of the House," said the Speaker, the volume of his voice rising.

"I will not let you," said Rickover.

"I may not have the majority of the caucus with me," said the Speaker, "but I have the majority of the House.  I'm not going to allow a recalcitrant minority to thwart the will of the American people."

"This conversation is at an end," said Rickover, turning around and storming out of the room.

Four minutes later, Rickover arrived at his office where more than a dozen members of the House and four Senators were waiting for him.

"It's as bad as we feared," he said as soon as the door was closed, "he's fallen for the whole thing and he wants to go for it."

"It's worse in the Senate," commented Jake Reinhardt, the junior Senator from Michigan, "there are enough squishes there that damned near half of the conference is for it."

"Well," said Michael Nelson, "then it's got to be in the House."

"What's the count down here?" asked Reinhardt.

"The Whip is with the Speaker," said Rickover, "so I only have a leaked count.  They say that the Speaker might be able to carry forty votes with him on the final passage of the bill.  That's enough – barely – if all of the Democrats in the House vote for it as well.  More than enough.  That's a ten vote margin."

"Then the House can't vote on this bill," said Theresa Rowan softly.  Until that point the Illinois Representative had been sitting softly in the corner.  People turned to look at her.

"We all agree that this bill must be stopped.  Yes?" said Rowan.  Nods came from around the room.

"Then the House must not vote on it," she said, the volume of her voice rising as she spoke.

"A motion to declare the office of the Speaker vacant is Constitutionally-privileged," she continued, "and it must be disposed of before any other business before the House."

"Hmmm..." said Nelson, "I see Theresa's point.  If the Speaker brings a vote on this bill to the floor, certain members of the House can be induced to vote for it upon the grounds of "economic necessity", especially if it has the backing of a Republican Speaker...  But if 80% of the caucus rises in rebellion, that becomes a hell of a lot harder to sell to the folks back home."

"Shit," said Rickover, checking his watch, "they're going to try and vote for this thing tonight.  We have to move."

"I don't know where half of our members are right now," said Nelson.

"Half of them aren't even in the fucking city," said Rickover.

"We can delay in the Senate," noted Reinhardt, "not forever, we don't have the votes.  But we can keep things interesting for a while.  Enough time for you to rally your own troops."

Rickover smiled and nodded.

"Do it," he said.

"I don't know if we're going to win, but by God we shall fight," declared the Majority Leader as he strode from the room.

Norfolk, VA

Martin Green had been sitting and refreshing a dozen different browser windows for hours.  He knew that the situation was bad, but he had never expected it to get quite as bad as this.

"If the President's plan is allowed to pass," he furiously typed, "free enterprise in this country will be effectively at an end."

Within seconds his Tweet was replied to by half a dozen other people, some of whom praised and agreed with him and others who viciously attacked him as a stooge of the corporations who were somehow "oppressing" all Americans.

As the minutes checked by Green, in spite of the rapidity with which news was breaking, suddenly found himself "ahead" of the internet.  He had already read every commentary of significance.  He was reading his own Twitter feeds so fast that he was simply refreshing and waiting for content.  He stopped and looked in the screen in silence for a minute.

Sitting behind the keyboard won't be enough this time, he thought.

He flipped to another set of Twitter feeds.  This one was filled with pictures of the mob descending upon the Capitol, demanding that the Congress accede to the President's demands and pass his bill immediately.

They don't speak for me, he thought as he watched the pictures and short clips fill his screen.

Reviving a tired old war cry, the protests that were descending upon DC were being organized around the hashtag #occupythecapitol.  

What classic third-world behavior, Green thought with contempt, the unwashed mob descending upon the capital to demand that everyone comply with the demands of the caudillo.

"It's time that we #defendthecaptiol," he Tweeted.

Within thirty seconds, Green's tweet was re-tweeted by a well-known conservative lawyer and author.

"YES.  LET'S DO IT.  RT @martingreen442 It's time that we #defendthecapitol."

That lawyer, as it happened, had 1.2 million followers.

U.S. Senate

"Will the Senator yield?" asked Mansour Bey, the junior Senator from Massachusetts.

"For what purpose does the Senator from Massachusetts ask that I yield?" asked Reinhardt.

"For a question," replied Bey.

"I will yield for a question," said Senator Reinhardt.

"Does the Senator not feel that his action – in adopting such full-bodied tactics of delay at this particular moment in our history – places purely partisan considerations ahead of national ones?"

"Mr. President," began Reinhardt, "I do not feel that is the case at all.  I believe that this is a manufactured crisis whose real aim is to change our form of government.  The Founders, in their wisdom, designed a government that was meant to be slow – that was meant to be subject to delays, second consideration, and to tangled bickering.  This was not an accident.  The institutions of the republic, especially insofar as domestic affairs are concerned, were never designed with expediency as the objective.  The Founders did not mean to create a government that would do as much as possible, they meant to create a government that would be capable of doing as little as necessary."

"The Constitution is meant to be obstructionist.  The aim of the Constitution and our government is not to see to it that every whim of a temporary majority is immediately enacted into law, it is to ensure that our liberties are effectively safeguarded from tyranny."

That brought shouts from the Democratic Senators present.

"Oh, Mr. President, I know that I'm not supposed to talk about tyranny.  That's supposed to be a "triggering" word that motivates extremists into action.  In fact, according to this Administration, you can even go to jail for such talk!  Though the Constitution says that that is not so in this particular place, I wouldn't be shocked to see them ignore even that."

U.S. House of Representatives

Every pizza place and cocaine dealer in the DC metro area was working overtime as the House remained in session into the evening.  The talking filibuster begun by Senator Reinhardt had managed to slow proceedings in the Senate enough for Rickover and the rest of the Republican rebels to begin to assemble their forces.

As midnight came and went, the proceedings in the Senate intensified as seven other Republican Senators came to the floor to join in with the Senator from Michigan.  With that many Senators in support of the filibuster – and with the social media momentum behind it making it certain that others would join – there would be enough time for the House Republicans to marshall their forces and give a good accounting of themselves.

"Keeler is a yes," announced Congressman Nelson as the rebel staffers frantically put together their own whip count.

"Ok,' said Rickover, "that gets us close."

The conference room was a mess, with paper and technology scattered across almost every surface.  Someone had run out to Target and purchased half a dozen power bars that we strewn across the surface of the table and filled with chargers for every kind of electronic device known to man.

"I put the count at twelve," said Nelson, wiping his brow and leaning back while squinting at giant whiteboard that someone had managed to haul into the room.

"Eleven," said Rickover, "we managed to get Hansen onto an earlier flight."

"Forget the flights," said Nelson, pointing out the window, "I'm increasingly concerned about how the fuck we're going to get people into here."

The noise of the crowds assembled outside was deafening and the police were struggling to tamp down the confrontations that were occurring between the mob supporting the President on one side and the one supporting the Republicans on the other.  No one had been killed or seriously wounded, yet, but several people had been taken to the hospital already and the police had arrested seventy-two people who had attempted to break through the police cordon and enter the Capitol itself while chanting, "Who's House?  Our House!" over and over again.

"They let the pizzas through," said Rickover, leaning over the table to grab a cooling slice.

"Everyone still has that much working-class solidarity, at least," said Nelson, "and a lot of those guys are pretty savvy.  The last one through here told me that when the people accosting him were dirty and unshaven he told them he was delivering to the Democrats and when they were clean he said the Republicans."

"Smart," said Rickover, "but what if he ran into some clean Democrats?"

"He said it hadn't come up."

Washington, DC

Christopher Sorensen had remained glued to the coverage of events in Washington for nearly thirty-six consecutive hours.  The Republicans in the Senate continued to stall events there, with Senators now speaking in a rotation to block a final vote on the Economic Reform Act while rumors swirled as to what exactly was going on in the House of Representatives.

"The fact is," said the lone Democratic panelist on Fox News that afternoon, "is that if the Congress had an up and down vote on this bill today it would be on the President's desk tonight."

"Indeed," the anchor sonorously intoned, "just this morning a number of America's top CEOs are out with an op-ed piece in the New York Times calling upon the Congress to pass this bill in order to keep the economy from going over a cliff.  So there's some fairly broad support behind the bill."

"This is ridiculous," interjected the editor of the Weekly Standard. "The President has created a crisis by making unilateral decisions that violate the Constitution and basic principles of the separation of powers and then, when those decisions turn around and have consequences – expected consequences, I should add – he demands that the Congress go along with him in the de facto nationalization of around a quarter of the American economy.  No to that.  A thousand times no."

"Just today," said the lone Democrat, "we had a major electronic retailer – one that employs more than 100,000 people – say that they're going to close their doors on Friday if this bill doesn't pass, because they won't be able to make payroll.  Those are the consequences of inaction here."

"That's like murdering your parents and pleading for mercy because you're an orphan," said the guy from the Weekly Standard.

Sorensen heard the door open and he swiftly changed the channel to CNN: he didn't need to have another argument.

"It's crazy out there," said Sarah as she stepped through the door, "the police have streets closed even many blocks away from the Capitol."

Sorensen held his tongue.

"...the crowds out on the streets keep growing by the hour," said the CNN anchor, "the latest estimates from the DC police is that there are more than 150,000 people on the streets of the District tonight.  Arrests as a result of altercations between elements of the crowd and attempts to breach security barriers now exceed one hundred."

"I know that you don't like to hear this," said Sarah as she took a seat next to Sorensen on the couch, "but I really think that the Republicans are going to have to give in.  The energy out there is electric."

Sorensen muttered something unintelligible and buried his head in his tablet as the television droned on.

"I am told that fights between members of the crowd have been multiplying as the day has gone on and tempers have been rising," said the reporter on the scene as the camera panned across the now-massive crowds that ringed the Capitol and spilled across every inch of space on the National Mall.

"The police are trying to do their best to keep the groups separate from each other, but the problem now is that both groups are constantly attempting to outmaneuver one another to try and grab the interior position closest to the Capitol itself.  It's a very turbulent situation here."

The Oval Office, The White House

"Mr. President," said Jamal Anderson, "what I'm hearing from the Minority Leader and Speaker Halverson – who is now working out of some space that we provided him and what remains of his staff in the OEOB, is that they think that a vote in the House tonight would be a jump ball, at best.  The Republican rebels are well-organized and have been bringing in more and more of their members.  A lot of the people who ought to go to Halverson are considered doubtful right now.  The Speaker thinks that we'd win a vote, but the Minority Leader is privately doubtful."

"And still no progress in the Senate?" asked the President.

"No sir," confirmed the Chief of Staff, "there are now twenty-one Republican members of the Senate who have joined in the filibuster there.  The Minority Leader tells me that, while the Majority Leader is sympathetic, he doesn't think that he will even dare to call it up for a vote.  It might have majority support, in other words – but we're losing out on the technical side of this.  Badly, for the time being."

"But isn't time on our side here?" said the President, "after all, the longer this goes on, the more the crowd surrounding the Capitol grows and the grimmer the overall economic news gets."

"That's definitely true," said the Chief of Staff, "at this point, the Secretary of the Treasury tells me, there's basically no one buying bonds except for the Federal Reserve or entities that are, in essence, straw buyers on behalf of the Fed.  We're getting more and more reports of layoffs and closures by the hour."

"Then we just need to say the course," said the President.

Washington State Conference Centre, Seattle, WA

Governor Mitchell Randall eyed the other luminaries in the room.  In addition to himself, the Governors of twenty-six states, along with a hundred other state officials, had gathered in Seattle to discuss preparations for an Article V Convention to amend the Constitution.  The Governors of sixteen other states had sent regrets.  Six had refused to attend.  The Governors of Rhode Island and Hawaii had not bothered to respond at all.

"Well ladies and gentlemen," said the Governor as he stood on the dais, "since I called you folks together, I suppose I ought to kick things off."

"Here's what we do know: Washington – DC that is, not the great state that I have the privilege of being the Governor of – simply doesn't work.  We can see that today in the chaos that has descended upon the Capitol.  That is a visible manifestation of the sickness that afflicts our country.  But, I ask you, does anyone here – does a single solitary soul among those of you present – think that any of this began today or simply with this President or, depending on your point of view, with this Congress?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"Alright then," said Randall, "then let's not let ourselves get bogged down in partisan bickering.  I want to talk about how we fix this, not how we got ourselves here.

"As the circumstances are urgent, I hope that I will offend no one here if I am very blunt: the primary problem that America faces today is that the Federal Government has become too large and too powerful.  I know that this isn't news to any of you.  I know that this isn't a new thought.  The government exercises control over all aspects our lives, in ways both visible and invisible.  This was always a destructive evil, but now it has become a fatal one.

"Put simply, the state is the great seducer.  We all know that it's wrong – don't you know it – to expect to appropriate the work of others and to put it to your benefit.  We know that.  Just like we know that it's wrong for us to break our marriage vows and to go to bed with the seducer, we know that it's wrong to use the state to extort value from others and keep it to ourselves.  But, little by little, more and more of us were seduced.  At all points on the spectrum – the poor by free benefits, the middle class with jobs and perks, and the rich with tax breaks, subsidies, and special deals.  No class is immune.  No one – including myself and all of you here today – is wholly innocent."

"The problem we are confronting today is a mathematical one."

Showily, the Governor walked up to a blackboard that had been set up on the stage and picked up a stick of chalk.

"First, the various clients of the state now constitute a majority – ensuring that power will eternally remain in the hands of those in favor of the redistributionist state.

"Second, in order to secure this majority, the redistributionists have made promises that have exhausted all of their resources: those real, those borrowed, and now even those hypothetical.  They spent every dollar they had and then, when they couldn't do that anymore, they borrowed and spent everything that anyone would give them.  And, in the last resort, when that was no longer enough they just started making money up out of the air.

"So, that's the first element of this problem.  X equals the resources required to fuel the demands of all of the client of the state.  Y represents the maximum resources available to the state.  When X is Greater than Y, there are just a few options: either reduce the value of X or increase the value of Y.  Let's call that gap Z.

"For the statists, reducing X is out because the whole of their power depends upon it.  They can't spend less, because their coalition isn't held together by any guiding principle, it's held together by money and a mutual interest in looting the treasury.  So they have to find a way to increase the value of Y by adding some Z factor.

"They've spent all of their money.  They can't borrow any more.  They've exhausted their ability to just make it up.  Yet the math doesn't lie – if they wish to maintain their power, they must find a way to add Z to Y.  Where do they get it from?

"Simply put: they have to steal it.  And that's just what they are trying to do in Washington today.

"These issues that we face are fundamental.  I know that there's been this effort in the media to draw some sort of line between so-called "moderate" Republicans such as Terrance Rickover and myself and the rest of his allies in Washington.  Let me set the record straight: we may disagree about many trifling issues, but there is no daylight between us on this fundamental question: this government must live within its means or this government will cease to exist.

"Now, some of my friends in the press might label that last statement as being "radical" or "inflammatory", but it is simply the truth.  One way or another the end is coming for the welfare state and it will not be pretty.  The math, as it stands, just does not work.  In order to maintain its power, the welfare state will have to engage in the greatest and boldest act of theft in history.  I use the word "theft" advisedly, for that is what the President's proposals today are – theft cloaked by pseudo-legalistic nonsense.

"I desire peace.  I wish for nothing more deeply that the peaceful adjustment of all of our differences.  But let us not transform a desire for peace and tranquility into a willingness to surrender unconditionally on points of principle.  There are some lines that must not be crossed, there are some compromises that must never be made."

John A. Wilson Building, District of Columbia

Rodney Tate, the Mayor of the District of Columbia, was furious.

"Why are we letting these white interlopers take over the streets of our city!" he shouted at his staff across the open-plan office that they shared.

"Mr. Mayor," his Press Secretary whispered, "please don't say things like that where someone might hear."

"Nonsense!" roared the Mayor, "I'm not going to have these white motherfuckers come in here and tell us what to do."

"Mr. Mayor..." said the Mayor's Chief of Staff gently.  He had served with the Mayor during his many years on the DC City Council and during his time serving as a Department head during a previous Administration and he generally knew how to handle the man's late-night rages.  However, the intensification of the Mayor's tendency towards drink had somewhat diminished the utility of that long experience.

"Fuck no!" shouted the Mayor, "Fuck no!"

"I think that this is a matter best left to the White House..." said the Chief of Staff.

"That lily-white cracker in the White House might run the country, but this is my motherfucking city," insisted the Mayor, stabbing his finger forward as he spoke.

"Get me the Chief of Police," insisted the Mayor.

"I think that we need to take some time to consider the implications of this in full, even if we rule out how it will play with our friends in the Administration," said the Chief of Staff.

"No.  N.  O," replied the Mayor.

"Alright," said the Chief of Staff after a long pause, "alright."

U.S. Senate

Senator Meghan Russell of Kansas was holding the floor when the news came in.

"Mr. President," said the thirty-four-year-old blonde ex-Attorney General, "the actions of the actions of this Administration have violated all political norms that this country – and this Congress – have ever respected.  I am astonished as those, like the Senator from Illinois, who would dare to lecture us on the political protocols of such a situation while they abet the greatest violations of the Constitution in the history of this nation..."

As she spoke she heard a single phone buzz.  This was so common that she took no notice of it as she continued speaking.

"...The doctrines being advocated by this President and this Administration would utterly and permanently obliterate the separation of powers..."

More phones began buzzing.  A few staffers, on checking their phones, broke into a run.

"...That is why we must resort to such extraordinary measures in order to stop this rush towards a radical reconfiguration..."

Now every phone was going off at once and everywhere people were whispering and running.

"Ok," said Senator Russell in a moment that weeks before would have made her a national figure overnight, "what the fuck?"

The Oval Office, The White House

"What the fuck?" asked President Bryan as he digested the latest reports from the scene.

"The DC Police went in – our guys got no more than a few minutes worth of warning – and tried to arrest the "Republican" protestors," explained the Acting Attorney General.

"Why the fuck did they do that?" asked the President.

"Apparently the Mayor of DC ordered it overnight," said Jamal Anderson.

"Goddamnit," said the President, punching the desk in front of him with his fist, "why?"

"Well," said Anderson, "I can surmise...  But we haven't been able to speak to the Mayor directly yet.  Apparently he's sleeping one off and I am informed by his staff that, even if we were to compel him to come to the phone, we probably wouldn't be able to get too much out of him for a few hours."

"Jesus fucking Christ," breathed the President, "how much stupidity must we endure?  What does this do to our position on the Hill?"

"The Speaker is furious," said Anderson, "so, even, as some of the Democrats.  It'll definitely cost us votes up there.  It might push some more of the Republicans in the Senate to join the filibuster.  We've even losing a few Democrats on that one.  Simpson – from West Virginia – looks doubtful now, for one."

"I think that the time has come," said the President, "for us to consider what our Plan B is in the event that we cannot bounce this measure through the Congress.  How much more executive authority can we assert in a genuine emergency?  I think that we need to be looking at Lincoln in 1861 and Roosevelt in 1933 as examples here."

"Before we do that, Mr. President," said the Acting Attorney General, "I think that we need to make some decisions about what we're going to do about what's going on outside of the Capitol right now."

"Meaning what?" asked the President.

"Sir," said Anderson, "the situation there is ongoing.  The DC police went in and they set something off.  The Republican protestors resisted being arrested and then a lot of the rest of the mob got involved in the situation as well."

"Ok, ok," said the President, standing up and beginning to pace the room, "then what is going on, exactly?"

"Anarchy," replied the Chief of Staff.

Office of the Speaker of the House, U.S. Capitol

"Look at what you've done!" said Michael Halverson as he stabbed an accusatory figure in the direction of Terrance Rickover.

"What I've done?" said Rickover.

"The whole of the Capitol grounds are a damned warzone," said the Speaker of the House, "with people engaged in running fist-fights, with the police trying to step in where they can but with the crowd too big to disperse without a lot more force than the DC police have – even if the Capitol police were to be sent in to join them.  We'd need soldiers to restore order at this point."

"That's an accurate description of the situation," said the Majority Leader, "but you are misplacing the fault.  All of the responsibility for what has happened here rests with an out-of-control President who has tried to take the office he inherited and to transform it into a dictatorship."

"All of this," said the distraught Speaker, "could have been resolved through ordinary channels and in the fullness of time.  With compromise and common sense.  But you had to have everything and you had to have it now.  You stirred up passions that never ought to have been and this is the result."

"It would be helpful," said the Senate Majority Leader, a grey-haired Republican from Arizona, "if we could call upon people to leave.  If enough heed those calls, the crowd might be reduced to such a degree that ordinary law enforcement could bring it to heel, without having to do something as extraordinary as call in the Army to secure the Capitol grounds."

"No, gentlemen," said Rickover.

The Speaker threw up his hands and marched over into the corner of the room, theatrically leaning up against the wall.

"You have to listen to reason, Terrance," said the Senator from Arizona, "we have a duty to the country that transcends partisanship."

"You're Goddamned right that we do," said the House Majority Leader, "and that is why I will not back down or equivocate.  I believe that we should deploy the Capitol Police to defend the legitimate rights of American citizens to demonstrate upon the Capitol grounds."

"That would mean," interjected the House Minority Leader, "potentially putting the Capitol Police force up against the DC police!  That could lead to fighting between two difference police agencies upon the Capitol grounds."

"I hope that it does not," said Rickover, "but I think that we should be prepared for that eventuality."

"This has not been a very productive conversation," said the Senate Minority Leader.

"Mr. Speaker!" said Rickover, turning towards the corner where Halverson was standing.

"Yes," said Halverson with a deep sigh.

"Are you telling me...  Telling us, right now that you will do nothing to assist those American citizens out there who are being assaulted by a so-called police force that, acting under the color of law, is aiming to deprive them of their civil rights?"

"What I'm telling you, Terry," replied the Speaker, "is that the time has come to bring this dangerous experiment to an end, before it gets out of control."

"It is already out of control," said the Majority Leader.

"Then end it!" shouted the Speaker, taking a step towards Rickover.  Rickover stepped towards Halverson and leaned forward.

"No," he hissed, then turned about and marched out of the room.  

US Capitol Grounds

Martin Green wasn't sure exactly where he was.  The sounds of the crowd were deafening as myriad chants and shouts combined into a single indistinguishable cacophony of noise.

The DC Police had come in during the middle of the night and ordered his group and others to disperse.

"Are we all being ordered to disperse?" the leader of the encampment that Green had joined had shouted, loud enough for everyone around him to hear.

"I don't know, sir," the police officer had declared, "I just know that my orders are for you to disperse and that I will execute those orders."

"I don't see anyone approaching any of them!" the leader shouted, pointing at the nearby mob of pro-Administration protestors with whom they had been trading insults.

"Sir, I am ordering you to move immediately," the police officer robotically repeated.

Reluctantly and slowly the defenders of liberty, largely being people accustomed to obeying the rules, prepared to pack up and move under protest.  But then, in Green's area and countless others, something had happened.  Someone had thrown a rock or another object at one of the police officers.  Within seconds events escalated beyond control.  The local leader said something that, in the opinion of the police officer just feet in front of him, had gone too far and the police officer responded by employing his taser against him.  In response to that, or perhaps to some other provocation, another one of the protesters threw a punch and a scramble had begun, with two police officers working to wrestle another one of the protestors to the ground.  That had been too much for the pro-Administration forces, just a few dozen feet away, to resist and they had charged in to attempt to confront the pro-Congress demonstrators, resulting in a string of new fist fights that the most dutiful of the DC police officers were now forced to attempt to break up.

That, reflected Green, had been five and a half hours earlier.

As it turned out the DC police had severely underestimated the number of people who were surrounding the Capitol in support of the position of the Congressional Republicans inside.  Their intelligence unit had told them that there were no more than a thousand or so against a hundred thousand or more gathering for the demonstrations in support of President Bryan.  However, by the time that they had moved in the numbers were actually more like ten thousand versus one hundred and twenty thousand.  However, those ten thousand contained a disproportionate number of veterans and current and former law enforcement officials as well as people who had been preparing for years for violent confrontations with the tyrannical state.  As a result the police had been repulsed at almost all points, the resources allocated to the effort having proven to be wholly inadequate to the task at hand.  Instead, they had made the situation exponentially worse by triggering fighting between radical elements on both sides throughout the day.  

Green took a step back to check his phone.  In his haste, he had failed to bring a charger with him but, fortunately, a lot of the people who had come out to demonstrate against the President were well-prepared survivalists so there was no shortage of portable power and charging equipment for electronic devices and his phone happened to use a pretty standard connector.  The latest rumors were that four people were dead in the fighting.  Green didn't want to believe it, but he did.  Reinforcements had been making their way to the encampments of both sides throughout the day, with the overall gain being to the anti-Administration side, whose ranks had now swelled to nearly thirty thousand people.

The DC police had tried to use tear gas and other non-lethal weapons, but of no avail against a crowd of that size.  The gas had wafted away from the people they were shooting and over the people they were ostensibly there to protect.  How could, in such a situation as this, one reliably distinguish between friend and foe?  Without other good options, the people in the crowd had been left to fight it out.

Now, drenched in sweat, Green stepped back from the melee to lock across the Mall and at the setting sun.  A hundred thousand Americans had spent their day biting, punching, and scratching.  Perhaps some of those were dead already.  Certainly, Green knew, some would be before whatever was beginning here was over.  The sun, he reflected, was setting on a different country than it had risen over.

U.S. House of Representatives

Unusually enough, almost every member of the House was on the floor.  Normally this sort of activity was reserved for events like the State of the Union.  Even during major votes, the norm was for members to drift on and off, for speeches to be given to C-SPAN cameras rather than colleagues.  But, tonight, barely a seat was free.

"The House will come to order," the Speaker Pro Tempore gaveled the session into being.

The Speaker of the House did not have the gavel, because he would not be able to speak from the chair.  Instead he was in the front row, waiting to be recognized.

"Mr. Speaker!" shouted the Congressman Nelson of Colorado, straining to be recognized amid a chorus of shouts.

"The Chair recognizes the gentleman from Minnesota," said the Speaker Pro Tempore, a carefully trained junior Congressman from New York.

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker," said Halverson as he rose to speak, "tonight is obviously a moment of extreme importance..."

"Point of order!" shouted Nelson and around a dozen others.

"The gentleman from Colorado is recognized," said the Speaker Pro Tempore after a moment of hesitation.

"Mr. Speaker, I request that I be recognized by the Chair prior to my colleague from Minnesota, as I intend to make a motion that is Constitutionally-privileged under the rules of the House and must, therefore, take precedence before other business."

"The point..." said the Speaker Pro Tempore after a moment of consideration and a few whispered words from the parliamentarian, "is not well-taken."

"I rise to appeal the decision of the chair," said Nelson, as a dozen other members of the House rose to shout their seconds.

"Oh, come on," said the Speaker, his voice laced with disgust.

"Very well," said the Speaker Pro Tempore, "the question is whether the decision of the chair shall stand.  All of those in favor?"

Approximately half of the House shouted their approval.

"And all those opposed?"

The other half of the House roared their disapproval.

"...The nays appear to have it," said the Speaker Pro Tempore without any real conviction.

"Mr. Speaker," said Congressman Nelson, "I demand a recorded vote."

"Well," whispered Nelson to Rickover as the electronic vote commenced, "this is really it."

"It's a test," said Rickover, "the Speaker engineered this as a test of initial strength.  He might be able to wheel and deal based upon the results of this vote.  But, if we lose, we're totally fucking done."

"What are we going to do if we do get control of the House and the President still refuses to come to his senses?"

"Michael, my friend," said Rickover, patting the Congressman on the knee, "I don't have the first fucking clue."

The White House

"No one is sure whether the votes are there, or whether a few stubborn people might throw off the result by voting on the actual question rather than the proxy question," said Anderson quietly as the President watched events on a television in the residence, where he had gone to get some badly-needed rest.

"There are always those stupid fuckers," said the President, his voice drained.

"We've gotten more word from the events at the Capitol today," added Anderson as the vote count on the screen continued to see-saw, "there were actually seven deaths, three hundred and four arrests and perhaps a few thousand injuries."

"Events, dear boy, events," said the President distractedly.

"Macmillian," said Anderson, "yeah, that stupid motherfucker at City Hall pulled one on us.  Still, if this goes on through tomorrow, we're going to have to consider sending in the Army to restore order and disperse everyone.  The sooner the better.  There have only been a few incidents of gunplay amid the protestors so far, but it won't be long before someone opens up with an assault rifle on one side or the other."

"Fuck," said the President, raising his finger and pointing towards the screen.

U.S. House of Representatives

"By a vote of 213-217, the nays have it.  The decision of the chair is overturned.  The gentleman from Colorado may make his motion," said the Speaker Pro Tempore.

"Mr. Speaker," said Nelson, "I move that we declare the Speakership to be vacant and immediately commence a new election."

"Is there a second?" said the Speaker Pro Tempore only be overwhelmed by shouts.

"Very well, is there any debate on the motion?"

The whole House exploded.

U.S. Capitol Grounds

The volume around the Capitol and across the Mall had dropped tenfold.  But it was far from silent.  All one could hear, wherever you went, were the sounds of a forty thousand individual devices streaming the events inside and a hundred and fifty thousands voices debating the implications of the events inside in hushed tones.

If the Congress would not yield...

If the President would not move...

What then?  

Christopher Sorensen had been late to the day's events.  He had stayed at work until he was done for the day and then he had lingered a little longer, knowing what he had to do but also that it would be likely to have a baleful effect upon his personal life.  Yet, at the same time he knew that there come moments in the destinies of nations when the desires of an individual shrink to insignificance.  Shortly after arriving at the Capitol grounds, he was elated to spot a friend.

"Martin!" he shouted.  For a moment Martin Green failed to look away from his tablet, transfixed on the events within.  Then he looked across the grounds at his friend and waved.

"Chris!" he said in a low-toned shout as he waved him on over.

"No one has a new count," he said as Sorensen walked up next to him.

The Speaker of the House was talking now, his voice eerily drifting across the night sky from thousands of small and slightly out-of-sync speakers.

"...This is not about ambition.  Given a choice, I would gladly yield my place to another," said Halverson, "but what this is about in the future and meaning of this country.  I do not approve of the course that this President has taken, as I have not approved of many courses by many previous Presidents and just as I hope – and expect – to disapprove of many more in the days to come.  You think that he has gone too far.  I think that he has gone too far."

"But I also know that the decision to oppose this President and this Administration in such strident and unyielding a tone is dangerous to the future of this nation.  I believe that it will have terrible consequences.  That – not my desire to retain the Speakership – is why I ask you to vote no tonight."

"The gentleman from Colorado is recognized," said the presiding officer, as Michael Nelson rose to speak.

"Mr. Speaker," said the Colorado Representative, "I have heard my friend, the Speaker, say this evening that he fears that some in this nation have come to a place where they can only say "no."  I would put it to the Speaker, Mr. Speaker, that it is not a matter that we can only say "no", but that we must say "no."  This is a nation born out of that one majestic word.

"Not so long ago, after we had already embarked upon this destructive course but before we had set absolutely it and poured on the speed, there emerged in this country a politician whose slogan was 'yes, we can.'  What he – and the many people of good will who supported him – meant by that was that they believed that government could – and ought to – bring people together to solve our social problems by collective action.  Implicit in the slogan was opposition to those imagined naysayers who stood in the way of the accomplishment of their wish-born utopia.  'Yes, we can', in this sense, meant that yes, we can together overcome the will of the minority and enforce upon the whole of the nation a certain vision of what is right and what is wrong.

"This error, I would argue, Mr. Speaker, springs from a certain basic misunderstanding of America.  America is freedom.  America is the right to be proudly, unabashedly, and unashamedly wrong – because how often is it that what is regarded as wrong in one generation is to be celebrated by the next?  America is not a search for the perfection of humanity, America is the recognition of the undeniable truth that humanity is imperfect and, given that, we had just better get on with things.

"Freedom. Mr. Speaker, is about the right to say "no" when something is asked of you.  It may well be that your neighbors and everyone else really believes that this thing is for the best but, unless your inaction should somehow compromise the public safety, you have – or ought to have – an absolute right to say "no" in America.

"Our opponents – exemplified by those of this Administration – believe that the are so good, so well-meaning, so nice and so empathetic that any opposition to them or their ways can only be the work of sociopathic evildoers.  They believe that they have in their hands the keys to utopia and that, in light of that, any measure that they take to push out of the way any obstructions must be justified.  After all, who would not agree – if utopia were really at the end of this path – that such an outcome of unlimited happiness might well justify a little temporary discomfort to be inflicted upon others?

"Such thinking paves the way for political prosecutions, for prison camps, and finally for mass graves.  It's happened elsewhere, including in many old and civilized states: don't think that it could never happen here.

"The Founders had the wisdom to recognize this and, in their wisdom, they thought to create a government founded upon checks and balances.  Our government is not slow and likely to produce deadlock because our Constitution is broken.  Our government is slow and produces deadlock because our Constitution works.  The purpose of the Constitution was never to deliver all power into the hands of a single man, be he ever so right or ever so wrong.  The Constitution was meant to disperse power and to ensure that interest was forever set against interest in order to prevent the total concentration of power in the hands of any one person or faction.

"I am a free American.  I was born one and I will die one.  I choose freedom.  I cherished it when it was easy and I will stick by it when it is hard.  I am prepared to defend it with my life.  Our Constitution will not be destroyed.  Our liberties will not be trampled.  One man with courage, they say, makes a majority.  What, then can one say of tens of millions of such men and women united in a common cause?  That is why I say no to tyranny and will vote yes on this motion."

Amid the crowds outside the Capitol, a tremendous roar of approval was met by shouts of anger and disapproval as, within, the business of state went on.

U.S. House of Representatives

"Mr. Speaker," began the House Minority Leader, "the question before us tonight transcends ordinary party politics.  Simply put, we are asking ourselves: what is government for?

"If government is to help people – if government is to improve the lots in life of ordinary people, to care for the sick, to educate our children, and to keep our streets clean and safe, then this motion must be defeated.  Not because I believe that my friend, Michael Halverson, is a good man and a capable Speaker – though I believe that he is – but because the forces who oppose him and now seek to destroy him believe in a different form of government than do we.

"The government that they believe in is indifferent to the concerns of ordinary Americans.  It values abstract ideological principles higher than human needs.  I don't believe that is the government that most Americans voted for – it certainly isn't what President Bryan has sought and is seeking – but it is what they would give us, if given the chance.

"This President wants to do something about inequality in this country.  He wants to do something about the fact that a few malicious corporations have deprived this country of trillions of dollars in vitally-needed tax revenue.  Money that could have gone to education, to health care, to putting cops on the streets, and to building the roads and bridges that we know that this country desperately needs has instead gone into foreign bank accounts.

"I find it hard to believe that anyone would choose the right of CEOs to pad their bank accounts over that of children to get the benefits provided by Head Start – but you can see people who believe just that sitting right over there.

"Now, I don't agree with this Speaker about everything.  In fact, the truth be told, I agree with him perhaps a third of the time.  But I believe that he believes in basic humanitarian principles, and I believe that he genuinely wants to help people.  Against what he's facing down, I will vote to back him again and again and again, as I believe will my colleagues in the House Democratic caucus."

The White House

The time had ticked past 2AM and they were still talking.  The President had finally half-dozed when the Majority Leader was called upon to wind up debate.

"The polls aren't with him.  Not fully," noted an agitated Jamal Anderson as the cameras focused in on Terrance Rickover.

"Mr. Speaker," began Rickover, "I will endeavor to be brief.  Today we are voting on more than the organization of the House of Representatives: we are voting on the future of our country."

"Our opponents believe that the powers of government ought to be unlimited – untrammeled by any limitations that might restrict the good that it might do.  What they fail to recognize is that a government that can do anything can do anything."

"None of the great tyrannies ever began with someone setting out to do terrible things to people.  They all began with someone who thought that they knew better than everyone else how people ought to live and that if only everyone could be convinced of the benefits of their singular vision, heaven might be brought into being upon the Earth.  That future of unlimited happiness and success, weighed against the temporary inconvenience of the trampled rights of a few, has proven to be a justification for untold horrors."

"We don't believe in the perfectibility of man," said Rickover as he reached for something in his briefcase.

"This," said the Majority Leader as he slammed a pocket-sized copy of the Constitution down upon the desk, "is what we believe.

"We believe in limited government.  We believe in individual initiative.  We believe that self-support is integral to the survival of self-government.

"And, more than that, we believe that our rights are not gifts of the government.  We believe that rights are the inherent possessions of the people.  We believe that iniquity is to be resisted, not compromised with.

"My Democratic friends who have spoken tonight are right: this is about a matter that goes beyond party politics.  What we are engaged in tonight – and in days to come – is a fundamental defense of liberty against the usurpation of a would-be tyrant.  Whatever the anguish that it may mean for us, we are going to make a stand for liberty.

"It may not be that we can restore the Constitution in a single bolt from the blue.  There is no magic wand here.  Instead, we will proceed carefully – but deliberately.  Because the people, deep down, are for liberty.  We will explain ourselves at each step as we use every means within our grasp to achieve our aims.  It may be long and it may be difficult, but we will win."

"A confident man," said the President as he narrowed his eyes upon the television as he slumped back in his chair.

"I think he's going to win the vote," said Anderson, looking at the ground.

"All great change has been resisted," said the President as he suddenly bolted up from his chair and walked across the room, "just as this has been and will be."

"Yes, Mr. President," said the Chief of Staff with a yawn.

"We're just going to have to punch back twice as hard.  Who do these people think that they are?  They don't speak for the people – their supporters are just a bunch of rich people and bigots.  Fuck them.  I will not let them win.  No matter what."

U.S. House of Representatives

The Speaker Pro Tempore hesitated before he spoke.  He looked down at the papers on his desk, shuffled them, and played with the computer in front of him.  Then, at last, he looked up.

"By a vote of 216-214, the motion carries.  The Speakership is declared to be vacant.  The House will now proceed to the business of electing a Speaker."

Washington State Conference Centre, Seattle, WA

Governor Sandra Owens of Vermont had initially been inclined to decline her invitation to the Seattle conference.  While she'd only met Governor Randall in passing at a handful of conferences, she knew enough about the people behind him, especially his friends at Praetorian International, to be wary of the tone and tenor of the conference he had convened.

Now, after listening to speech after speech advocating the use of the amendment process to enshrine, now and forever, the policy preferences of some conservatives in the nation's foundational document, she finally decided to get up and speak.

"After hearing all of the other speakers today, I think that I must ask a fundamental question: what purpose is government meant to serve?"

"Is government meant to serve the interests of the majority of the people?  If those, the proposals put forward here today – permanent and Constitutional caps on spending, taxation, and borrowing, are frankly bizarre and destructive.  It seems to me that the majority who have spoken here today put the liberties of some of the people above the good of all of the people."

"What is proposed now – both here and in Washington – is to undo a consensus that has existed for nearly a century.  These proposals are, quite frankly, revolutionary.  I use that word deliberately and I hope that those who are listening take notice of it.  They will not be implemented – they cannot be done – without tearing this nation apart.  What you propose to do is to strip not only the income but also the dignity from a significant percentage of the people.  Do you believe that they will sit by in idleness when this comes to pass?"

CHAPTER FIVE

The Great Mutiny

The Oval Office, The White House

White House Chief of Staff Jamal Anderson was not the only one wondering whether or not the President had slept at all as he furiously paced around the Oval Office at a hastily called meeting at a little after 7AM.

"Who the fuck do these people think that they are?" the President ranted as he sucked down an iced coffee from the White House mess.

The House of Representatives had recessed at shortly after 4AM, but not before electing Terrance Rickover as the new Speaker.  As soon as that happened, the Republicans in the Senate had stopped their talking filibuster of the Economic Reform Act and recessed for the night as well.  The new Speaker had gone before the press, his eyes blood-shot but his voice filled with energy and conviction and announced that the House would press forward with a series of resolutions declaring various Presidential acts and decrees to be illegitimate.

"What about the Economic Reform Act?" a reporter from CBS shouted at the Speaker.

"That thing?  It's dead," replied Rickover from the podium.

With protestors still ringing the Capitol, a majority of both houses of the Congress had slept in their offices.  Both the Senate and the House were due to come back into session at noon.

"This," raged President Bryan, "is nullification.  It's the same thing that the slaveholders thought that they could do before the Civil War.  Well, it didn't work then and it won't work now."

"Mr. President," said the Secretary of the Treasury, his tie crooked and his face unshaven, "we've been working on this all night.  There just isn't a way to take another step here without the consent of the Congress.  We've already stretched everything as far as we possibly can.  We've had every lawyer on the payroll – and a bunch who aren't – going through everything that could possibly be looked at.  Moving forward requires Congressional action."

"Bah," the President waved his hand, "a bunch of wavering Republicans voted with the majority because they were afraid of being the odd man out.  They're not all in favor of this madness.  We can peel some votes away."

"They're pretty energized," the Director of the Legislative Office pointed out, "they think that they've pulled off something really big.  I think that they're going to hang together for a bit."

"We still haven't decided what exactly to do about the crowds outside of the Capitol," interjected the Acting Attorney General, "they're still growing."

"That's fine.  That's fine," repeated the President as he strode around the perimeter of the room.

"Mr. President, we've already had multiple deaths here..." said the AG.

"You don't think I fucking know that?" the President exploded, lunging in the man's direction.

"I know that people have already died because of this bullshit.  Don't think that I'm not very aware of that!" shouted the President as he stabbed an accusatory finger towards the Acting Attorney General.

"What, then?" said the man.

"We need to respond to this aggression," said the President, "we need to make sure that the Congress knows that they can't just do the bidding of their fat cat masters and pay no price for it.  We still have plenty of cards to play."

As the room cleared, the President looked downwards at his desk, where a pre-paid cellular phone that allowed him to contact his old friend formerly of the CIA sat.

U.S. House of Representatives

A relatively junior Congresswoman from upstate New York was holding down the chair as Terrance Rickover began his tenure as the Speaker of the United States House of Representatives.

"Pursuant to the adopted rule, no debate will occur on the resolution and no amendments will be entertained," said the presiding officer as Rickover watched from his seat.

"No greed!  No greed!" came the shout from the assembled crowd as the House continued its business.

"God, they're loud," said Rickover to Representative Nelson, who had been rewarded for his service in making Rickover the Speaker with a promotion to the position of House Majority Whip.

"No greed!  No greed!  No greed!"

"Jesus," said Nelson, looking up at the gallery.  Both he and Rickover were trying to trace the source of the news when every phone in the place began buzzing.  Rickover answered.

"Mr. Speaker," said the voice on the other side, "a group of protestors have managed to breach security."

"Well, fuck," said the Speaker as the chants began to intensify.

"No greed!  No greed!" the protestors continued to scream.

"We have to clear the chamber," explained the Chief of the Capitol Police.

"No," insisted the Speaker, "we shall do no such thing."

The volume and variety of the chants increased as the protestors made their way closer to the House Chamber.

"Mr. Speaker," we cannot absolutely guarantee your safety or that of the members of the House.  We've got to clear out."

Rickover looked up into the gallery, where a group of protestors had managed to shove their way on past the guards and were crowding out all of the legitimately-admitted visitors.

"Jesus," said Nelson, pointing at one group of protestors, "they brought motherfucking ropes with them."

Dropping ropes down from the gallery, the protestors scrambled up over the railing and began to lower themselves en masse to the floor of the House of Representatives.

"Get the fuck out of here!" shouted a burly Missouri Congressman as he charged towards one of the people who had invaded the floor of the House.  To the surprise of the Congressman, a former college linebacker, the protestor threw a well-placed punch that sent him flying to the floor.  

There were more protestors now, more than Rickover could count.  More than two hundred people, wearing filthy but expensive rags, had now managed to surge onto the floor of the House chamber.

"Fuck," breathed Rickover as several other members of the House moved to hustle him off the floor.

Representative Jack Hawkins of Oklahoma, a Yale Law School graduate and a Marine Captain in Iraq, rushed forward to put himself between the Speaker and the oncoming protestors.  One of them lunged in the direction of Rickover, reaching out with his hand.  Hawkins pulled back and then swung his fist wildly in the direction of the protestor, making solid contact with the side of his head and then knocking him to the floor with so much force that the man bounced back up after impacting the ground.  Another protestor rushed at Hawkins and the Congressman turned slightly, dipping his right shoulder and then getting a grip on the man's back before using his leg to sweep him to the floor.

There were hundreds of protestors streaming in now, descending upon the House chamber as some Capitol police officers and a few dozen members of the House struggled to push them back.  

"Terry," said Nelson as they watched the scene, "we have to go."

Reluctantly, after almost moving to turn back and join the melee on the floor of the House, the Speaker allowed himself to be escorted out through a side door under the cover of a number of members of the Capitol Police with drawn guns.

"What the fuck happened!?" shouted the Speaker the moment that the door closed behind him.  Then he stopped, looked around at the faces of the men surrounding him, and tried to re-calibrate his response.

"I don't understand how such a breach could have happened," he said in a more-restrained tone of voice.

"Security must not have wanted to use maximum force," said Nelson after a prolonged pause.

"To defend the Capitol from an intrusion by rioters?" said the Speaker.

"Best guess," said Nelson quietly.

The Speaker attempted to place a call to the Chief of the Capitol police, but received no signal.

"Fuck," he said, "someone find me the fucking Chief."

U.S. Capitol Grounds

"Fuckers!" screamed Christopher Sorensen as the solid line of protestors kept him and the rest of the anti-Administration demonstrators away from the Capitol building itself.

"This is a fucking set-up," said Martin Green as they surveyed the scene.  Right before noon, the DC and parts of the Capitol Police had set up lines of officers and control devices, ostensibly for the purpose of separating the two battling factions of protestors, but they had actually had the effect of giving a small group of radical pro-Administration protestors the ability to breach the security around the Capitol.

"Fuck you!" shouted one of the protestors back at Sorensen and the rest of his crowd.  In response, Sorensen picked up a rock and threw it into the crowd of left-wing protestors, hitting one of them in the face and drawing blood.

"Die motherfuckers!" said Sorensen.  Nuance had departed the arguments of both sides at some point during the last few days.

The injured protestor's compatriots gathered around him and began to scream abuse and Sorensen and to call for the police to act against him.  A DC police officer, following orders to hold his position along the physical barrier that had been put in place, merely shrugged.

The Oval Office, The White House

"The optics of this are not good," the Legislative Director fretted as they watched the scenes from the floor of the House of Representatives broadcast across a half dozen different networks.

"Oh, I don't know," said the President laconically, "I think that it shows the world how upset the people are and that our opponents cannot govern."

"Mr. President," interjected Daniel Hampton from the video chat link, "I have to tell you that the situation here in New York is very grave."

"Yes, yes, I've heard you," replied Bryan.

"No, Mr. President, you clearly haven't," said Hampton, "or you would have acted already.  The economy is coming apart at its seams.  It's taking all of my strength – and that of everyone working from me – to keep the whole banking system from collapsing in upon itself.  We are in uncharted territory here."

"I am well aware of that, sir," said the President, "that is why it is so urgent that the Congress act."

"Mr. President," said the Secretary of the Treasury, "there comes a point in a standoff where someone has to blink.  We have rioters overrunning the Capitol and banks nearing collapse.  People are dumping dollars as fast as they can find ways to do it."

"Thank you for your offer, Mr. Secretary," said the President, "I would be happy to accept your resignation."

"Mr. President?" said the Secretary, wide-eyed.

"Thank you for your service to this country, John," said the President, leaning forward over his desk.

The Secretary of the Treasury looked directly at the President for a second as the President stared intensely at him before turning and wordlessly exiting the room.

"That goes for everyone in this room!" shouted President Bryan. "Him that hath no stomach for this fight, let him depart: his passport shall be made and crowns for convoy put into his purse.  We would not die in that man's company who fears our fellowship to die with us."

"Mr. President," said his Private Secretary, "the Speaker of the House is on the phone for you."

Everyone in the room exchanged looks for a moment.

"Ok," said the President, "transfer the call."

The President sat back in his chair and waited for the phone to ring.  When it did, he picked up the receiver.

"Hello," began the President.

"We got your message, Mr. President," said Rickover.

"Message?"

"Don't bullshit me, Mr. President.  Someone orchestrated that invasion of our chamber – of the people's House.  You want to stop us.  But we won't be stopped."

"Mr. Speaker, I am as appalled by the events of today as you clearly are.  Though I am a touch less emotionally unbalanced by it than you clearly are."

"You think that you're genuinely clever, don't you, Mr. President?"

"I am a servant of the American people and I am using every tool at my disposal to safeguard the interests of the American people."

"You are attempting to undo every single safeguard against tyranny that the Constitution offers...."

"I am attempting to ensure that there are cops on the streets, that our Doctors get paid..."

"This is just you and me talking, stop posturing," said the Speaker.

"I'm not.  That's the reality of this, Mr. Speaker.  I am fighting to ensure that basic services get provided to ordinary people and you are attempting to make an ideological point.  I am more than prepared to sit by and await the decision of the American people as to the relative merits of our positions."

"Mr. President, what you are doing is using a crisis that you yourself manufactured as a pretext to attempt to assume extraordinary and extra-Constitutional powers for the purpose of expanding the government.  Having failed to achieve this fully, you are now resorting to illegal means to attempt to intimidate your critics into silence or compliance."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, Mr. Speaker," said the President smugly.

"Mr. President," said the Speaker, "the United States Capitol has just been invaded and occupied by a hostile mob.  The DC Police are unwilling to intervene.  The Capitol Police tell me that they are unable to do so.  What is required now is the use of either Federal Law enforcement resources or the use of the military in aid of the civil power under the terms of the Insurrection Act.  As the Speaker of the House of Representatives, I am formally requesting that you, as the Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces and the officer charged with seeing that the law is faithfully executed, act to ensure the security of the Capitol and of the Congress."

The President sighed deeply.

"As you said yourself, Mr. Speaker, it is the people's house and I think that the best way to bring it back from chaos is to respect the will of the people."

Office of the Speaker of the House, The Capitol

"Asshole!" said Rickover as he slammed the phone down on his desk.  After pausing for a second he looked up to find the Majority Whip standing in front of him.

"Mr. Speaker, I think that there's someone whom you need to meet now," said Nelson, standing aside to allow a towering black man in a well-tailored suit to approach the desk.

"Mr. Speaker, my name is Jacob Henry, I'm a Special Projects Manager for Praetorian International."

Rickover took the man's hand.

"It's good to meet you, Mr. Henry, though I'm afraid that I don't have much time for meetings with anyone other than my staff today.  I know that Praetorian has been a generous contributor to my campaigns, to the RCCC, and to the RNC is the past – and I hope that you will be in the future – but I don't have time for anything other than the most essential business today."

"I fully appreciate that, Mr. Speaker," said Henry, "and I don't want to talk about money either.  I want to talk about a contribution of another sort."

"Ok," Rickover looked up, "I'm listening."

"As I'm certain that you're very well aware, Praetorian's original line of work is training and deploying private security forces.  While we have since expanded into many other fields, that remains our core business and we are very good at it."

"I see," said the Speaker, tapping his fingers on the desk, "and what sort of price would you be seeing for this...  assistance?"

"Sir, I am a patriot.  The owners of this company are patriots as well.  They recognize that everything they have they owe to the United States of America."

"And the value of everything they own depends on this President being stopped as well, yes?"

"Well, there is that as well," Henry conceded, "but someone needs to defend the Congress and it's pretty clear that the police aren't going to do it and the army rests in the hands of the President."

"So, in other words, you're going to raise a new generation of Minutemen?"

"Something like that, Mr. Speaker," said Henry.

The Speaker shot a look in the direction of Nelson.

"Do we have an alternative?" he asked.

"I don't believe so, Mr. Speaker," said the Whip, "not unless we decide to cede the Capitol to the mob and to relocate the Congress to another location...  Assuming that a quorum would even follow us."

"Like the Roman..." said Rickover softly to himself, looking off in the distance.

"Mr. Speaker?" said Nelson.

"Just something that I read once somewhere.  Enoch Powell.  English politician who warned that unchecked immigration would destroy that country.  "Like the Roman I see the River Tiber foaming with much blood.""

The Speaker stood and buttoned up his suit jacket.

"I've always feared that this moment would come.  Our problems were just too large, beyond the ability of the political system to cope with by ordinary measures.  Sometimes, if you really want to protect something, then the only choice is to pick up a gun."

"Ok," said the Speaker looking at Henry, "raise your volunteers."

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

"Jesus fucking Christ, what are they doing over there?" said General Dylan Mackenzie as the latest news from the homeland steamed into his Jerusalem headquarters.

"The fuck if I know," replied General Kahn, "but it seems to be getting worse with every single passing hour."

"There have been a few altercations about it among the troops," noted Brigadier General Gregory Talent, Central Command's Operations Officer, "but nothing that we haven't been able to control."

"I'm more worried," said Brigadier General Casey, the intelligence officer, "about what happens if this financial situation continues.  The government is running out of money to pay its bills.  We have well over a quarter of a million Americans out here in the desert.  If I was going to launch an all-out offensive, I might just do it at a time when it appears uncertain whether or not the government will be able to afford to resupply and move us."

"We have the world's most powerful army sitting here," said Kahn, "I don't think that will be a problem."

"With all due respect, General – that might be true enough for some things.  We could probably seize food and fuel locally if we had to.  Same for some medical supplies.  But specialized spare parts?  Computer gear?  Prescription medicines?  Those are all things that we purchase on a just-in-time basis."

"We could barter," joked Talent, "an Abrams for a herd of cows and a horde of penicillin."

"I think that we should plan for just that as a contingency, sir," said Casey.

"I'm pretty sure that that's illegal," noted Mackenzie quietly.

"If the U.S. Government goes bankrupt," replied Casey, "then I think that it's pretty much the law of the jungle out here."

"Ok," said Mackenzie, "make contacts.  Use the Israelis and maybe the Saudis.  I think that's about all that we can trust.  Speaking of dubious contingency plans, what sort of progress are we making on Deluge?"

"The plans are about as well-designed as they can be," reported Kahn, "it's just a matter of how they'd play out in the real world, if they were to be activated."

"Well," said Mackenzie slowly, "I suppose we might well find out soon enough."

Ford House Office Building

With the House Chamber still occupied by several hundred protestors, the Speaker and the rest of the Republican leadership had retreated to the Ford House Office Building across the street.

"Mr. Speaker," said Michael Nelson, speaking slowly and deliberately, "I know that this is a difficult decision, but I also firmly believe that it's the only way."

"I know that," said Rickover, "but this is momentous.  I want to make certain that we are all on the same page and know what it is that we are getting into here.  Some might classify this as an insurrection."

The Speaker's words hung heavily over the room as the assembled members and staffers looked at the ground.  Finally, Igor Kane, a Democratic Congressman from the Chicago suburbs who was one of the very few members of his party to have come to the meeting called by the Republican Speaker, stood.

"Mr. Speaker, I know that this is an awful situation and that a terrible responsibility rests upon you and I know that I am speaking against the wishes of many members of my party.  But I believe that the first act of physical violence was when a mob was permitted to storm the United States Capitol – an act that I can, very regrettably, only conclude was abetted and perhaps instigated by the President of the United States.  The second act of violence against democracy and the Constitution occurred when the President of the United States refused to use force to defend the United States Congress from a mob.  If we allow the operations of the Congress to be disrupted in this way, then do we really live in a democracy anymore?  I am not so certain."

"Well," said the Speaker after a long pause, "I don't think that anyone here can really argue against that.  I am authorizing the operation."

The Oval Office, The White House

"Mr. President," said Jamal Anderson, "I don't think that we can put off this call much longer."

"Well, fuck," replied President Bryan as he completed his lap around the room, "fine, put the fucking thing through."

The President moved over to his desk and jumped into his chair with enough force that he sent it bouncing slightly off the ground.

"Mr. President," came a voice through the speakerphone, "I'm glad that I've finally been able to get through here to you.  Dan Hampton is on the line as well."

The President scowled at the mention of the name of the President of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, but he maintained his outward reserve.

"Great," said the President, "what have you got for me?"

"Sir," said the Chairman of the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve System, "I need to step outside of my normal role here and talk about what's going on in New York and in the world markets.  This is catastrophic, Mr. President, and I believe that it will very soon become unrecoverable."

"I am well aware of that, Mr. Chairman," said the President, "and that is why I have called upon the Congress to act..."

"Mr. President," said the Fed Chair flatly, "we don't have time for posturing.  I don't have time.  This is financial armageddon that we're facing here.  At the rate that the losses are piling up, we're going to have people flinging themselves from the fucking windows en masse in a few hours.  Let's be straight: you tried to bounce the Congress and it isn't working..."

"No, Mr. Chairman – I have the people with me.  Why, have you seen their rage as expressed on the streets?  A mob stormed the House of Representatives today..."

"Mr. President, we both know that there are plenty of people on either side of this thing...  And you have more of an ability to compromise than they do at this point.  Especially given, as you mentioned, that that mob – whomever instigated it – just stormed the Capitol."

"Mr. Chairman, you are overstepping your bounds here..."

"You have no truer political friend than I, Mr. President.  I was the college roommate of your predecessor.  No one wants your success more than I do, sir, but I have to tell you that the reality today is very grim.  I must tell you that the opinion of more than a few members of the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve is that the only solution to this impasse is to see you removed from office..."

"All exponents of change meet resistance.  Fierce, even suicidal resistance – as this shall be for your sort of people!" shouted the President into the phone.

"No, Mr. President," insisted the Fed Chair, "I believe in your policy objectives – and so do a lot of the other people here – but this is just the wrong way of going about getting them.  Stretching the Constitution first and then simply trying to drive over any opposition.  You've provoked too much of a reaction and now the situation has become very dangerous indeed.  I would not be surprised, if this continues to play out the way that it has, to see major Democrats coming out for your impeachment, sir.  Reluctantly, to be sure, because we all admire your policy stances – but as a practical matter, when it comes down to members of the Fortune 500 being able to make payroll in two weeks or not...  It becomes a very complicated matter, Mr. President."

"Coward," spat the President.

"Excuse me?" said the Chairman.

"You heard me," said the President, "you're a fucking coward.  Fuck you and all of your crowd, if that's the way that you want this to go.  So be it."

The President slammed down the phone and looked up to see a grim-faced Jamal Anderson standing over his desk.

U.S. Capitol

Representative Jack Hawkins was one of the one hundred and sixteen members of the House of Representatives and Senate who was young and fit enough and who had the requisite experience to join the so-called "Congressional Provisional Battalion" that was now being organizes by the ex-Special Forces soldiers who Jacob Henry had brought down to the Capitol.

Looking upon the videos from the House Chamber, Hawkins earnestly wished that he had a gun.  Seeing the United States Capitol outraged by a filthy mob of worthless wretches had filled him with an unquenchable rage, unlike any that he had felt in years.  When he had joined the Army after September 11th, Hawkins had wanted more than anything else to serve his country – and to be seen doing so, should he later decide to run for public office.  However, while over there, he had discovered a truth about himself that he had previously only suspected: not only was he good at killing people, he actually enjoyed it.  This was a rare quality among combat leaders and it made him both incredibly proficient and intermittently a liability to his senior officers.  

Now, watching the protestors, it was difficult for Hawkins to think of anything more than killing them.  Everyone who Hawkins had previously killed had been killed at a distance: a bullet fired across hundreds of yards.  Looking at the people who had violated the Capitol, Hawkins could not hold back his desire to inflict a much-more personal form of death upon them.  He wished to grab one by the neck and to hold on, merciless and unbending, as life passed out of the eyes of the criminal in his hands.  He wanted them to know who had done it and why.  This, he believed, would be truly the work of the Lord.

"We need to execute this without shooting anyone," said the trainer, "no guns.  We're not issuing them and I'm telling you now: don't bring them into the chamber with you.  Gas first – then batons.  Just like we planned it.  Got it?"

Hundreds of pro-Administration protestors had been "occupying" the majority of the Capitol Building for hours now.  The DC Police refused to come.  The military and Federal law enforcement remained under the command of the President.  The Capitol Police – at least those members willing to participate in the retaking of the complex – were too small a force to conduct such an operation.  That meant that the Congress itself had to move – and move fast – if it was to take back control of the situation.

"Alright," said the retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant who was leading the operation, "let's go."

The protestors had had the foresight to blockade the lower-level door into the House Chamber, but someone had obtained several strongly-built benches to use as battering rams.  As the first assault teams began to move towards the primary door, a group of one hundred men and women – a mix of members of the Capitol Police and civilian volunteers with military or law enforcement experience – moved through the upper corridor towards the viewing gallery.  As the posse moved forward they began to make a liberal use of tear gas and pepper spray, tossing the tear gas canisters forward and deploying the spray against anyone who attempted to approach them too closely.  

Congressman Hawkins hung further back, standing alongside a second team of one hundred and fifty men and women who were equipped with zip ties and other materials necessary for detaining the incapacitated protestors and then physically removing them from the House of Representatives.  From his position on the lower floor he could hear the sounds of a struggle emanating from upstairs, but received no individual update as to the progress of the assault.

Once the upstairs wave of the assault reached the doors to the viewing gallery, the more hard-core protestors had begun to prepare themselves to mount a defense.  Having anticipated the possibility that some police force would make a heavy use of chemical agents in order to eject with a minimum level of force, many of these protestors had equipped themselves with improvised gas masks.  To counter this, the Congressional Provisional Battalion had been equipped with police-issued batons and tasers.  The protestors didn't have any tasers: but they did have bats and other blunt objects that could be transformed by a mere change of intent into improvised weapons.

Jonathan Layton was one of the protestors armed with such a weapon: a baseball bat in his own case.  Later some would raise this fact as evidence of his own ill intent: why did the twenty-one-year-old man from Montpellier have a bat if he did not intend to commit acts of violence?  No one has ever been able to establish the clear provenance of the bat that he was holding that morning, through multiple theories exist.  That he had a bat and swung it at the provisionals has been more than established and verified by both photographic and video evidence.  

Mary Elizabeth Gibbon was a twenty-four-year-old student from Lexington, KY who had previously served in the U.S. Army and was working in the office of Representative Evelyn Greenwich as a Deputy Press Secretary.  Based upon her previous service, she was one of the first people to volunteer for service in the Provisional Battalion.  Based upon her proficiency as demonstrated during the very abbreviated training and organization period, she was assigned to the team responsible for taking back the upper floor in order to saturate the House Chamber with gas in order to permit an orderly retaking of the lower floor.  Though smart and tough, she was also slight: it was anticipated that the people in the lower-level of the House would be required to physically drag multiple individuals out.  

As the members of the Provisional Battalion moved towards the doors to the House Gallery, wading through a cloud of CS gas, Layton charged in the direction of the masked Gibbon, preparing to swing his bat at her.  Gibbon held her ground and fired upon Layton with the X26 Taser that she had been issued from the Capitol Police's stocks.  

Tasers are, of course, generally an excellent non-lethal option for subduing an attacker.  However, in the case of Mr. Layton, it was later disclosed that he suffered from a congenital heart defect.  The use of the taser against him triggered instant cardiac arrest.  Perhaps he would have lived had he received instant medical attention, but the Provisional Battalion had a job to do and so, in what some would later argue was an atrocity and others would view as the reasonable punishment of a just God, Layton was left to die alone on the floor.

In minutes the men and women of the provisional battalion were pushing their way through the hallway towards the entrance to the gallery.  With their tactical batons and shielded by a cloud of gas they were able to batter their way forward.  When the protestors moved forward they struck them again and again, battering them to the ground with one deeply satisfying thwack after another.  Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity but was in fact fewer than five minutes, they pushed their way through to the gallery and began to hurl canisters of CS gas into the lower portion of the chamber, covering the protestors on the floor of the House with a visible cloud.

As soon as the members of the provisional battalion took control of the gallery back, the men and women on the lower floor broke down the door of the House and charged on through.  The protestors in the floor had had more time to prepare and many of them were wearing protective gear.  Hawkins swung his baton furiously as a masked protestor charged towards him, making contact with his chin and sending the man flying backwards.  Another protestor ran towards the Congressman.  Hawkins, remembering his years playing football, firmly planted his feet against the ground and allowed the man to impact him.  Once he did he grabbed hold of him and wrestled him to the ground, using his free hand to pummel him.  The enraged Congressman threw blow after blow against the man with his baton, not being able to do as much damage as he would have liked due to their close physical proximity.  

"Motherfucker!" the Congressman screamed as he managed to gain the upper hand in the fight, standing up and continuing to strike the prone man who now retreated into a fetal position.

U.S. House of Representatives

As soon as the members of the provisional battalion had gained control of the House Chamber, every possible window as opened and fans were brought in to clear out the tremendous quantity of gas that had been used during the operation.  Members of the Capitol Police and the Congressional Provisional Battalion were positioned to prevent a further break-in into the Capitol itself.  Zip-tied protestors were left to sit in the Capitol basement as the bodies of the two protestors who had been killed during the retaking of the House Chamber were discreetly moved into a dis-used freezer in the cafeteria of one of the buildings that collectively made up the Library of Congress.

Citing the deaths, which it had been decided prudent to immediately disclose, the majority of the Democratic members of the House were refusing to attend the emergency session that had been called by the Speaker.

"It is impossible for decent human beings to sit quietly alongside those who would murder innocent protestors merely seeking to exercise their most fundamental of rights," said the House Minority Leader in a statement.

The Speaker's office announced that the Speaker would respond in an address to the American people in two hours.

"You know," the Speaker said quietly to Nelson and the other operatives in the Ford Building, "I don't know if a speech from the floor of the House is quite right for this occasion.

"What do you have in mind?" asked Nelson.

"Well," said the Speaker, "if the Democrats are going to boycott anyways...  We can kind of do what we want."

Thus, two hours later, the Speaker found himself in the unusual place of waiting outside of the House chamber as a telegenic Congresswoman from Kentucky, chosen especially for the occasion, gaveled the House into session on one side of the Capitol as, over on the other side, the junior Senator from Maine did the same.

"Therefore, be it enacted by the House of Representatives and the Senate of the United States of America in Congress assembled," read the Clerk of the House, "a Joint Resolution inviting the Hon. Terrance Rickover, Speaker of the United States House of Representatives, to address a Joint Meeting of Congress on the events of recent days as soon as it is practicable for him to do so."

As soon as the yeas and nays were called for, a mighty roar of approval rose up from the floor of the House as a gratified Rickover looked on in the distance.  

The Oval Office, The White House

President Bryan sat slumped in his chair, looking at the ground.  Slowly and wordlessly he ran his foot over the patch he had worn into the Oval Office carpet underneath his feet by endlessly pushing his chair back and forth.

"What is this fucking bullshit?" said the President, throwing a pile of papers down upon the desk in disgust.

"There is some precedent for it, Mr. President," noted Jamal Anderson. "Other non-Presidential dignitaries have addressed joint meetings before...  It's the procedure used to invite foreign leaders to speak to the Congress.  Usually when Americans do it, it's for memorials and the like..."

"No," said the President, "fuck this.  This is treason.  He's not the President.  I'm the fucking President."

"Mr. President," said Anderson quietly, "I think that the time has come that we consider what a de-escalation might look like.  Whatever might be said about how they managed to do if, they've got control of the House and Senate at this point and they're not going to pass your bill..."

"But the how," said the President, jumping up from his chair and practically sprinting to the edge of the room, "is the key to our victory.  How is everything!"

"Sir?"

"Is the process legitimate?  Is it legal?" the President stabbed his finger at the television where the members of Congress were waiting for the Speaker to begin his speech, "is this even a legal session of the United States Congress?"

U.S. House of Representatives

"Members of the Senate and the House of Representatives," said the presiding officer, "the Speaker of the House."

Rickover stood up at the rostrum as the three hundred and fourteen members of the Congress who had chosen to attend the Joint Meeting stood as one and began to applaud wildly.  Many did not even have proper seats on account of the damage done to the House of Representatives during the course of the protestors' occupation and the bitter fighting to take back control of the place.  The makeshift chairs and the debris left scattered across the floor did more than almost any other single factor to convey to television and web viewers the extraordinary nature of the occasion.  

"Mr. President Pro Tempore, members of the Senate and the House of Representatives, fellow Americans," began the Speaker, "I come before you tonight to speak to you at the greatest moment of peril that our republic has faced in more than a century and a half.  Already blood had been shed and lives have been lost as a result of the political and economic strife that has engulfed our nation and, unless an immediate change in course is agreed upon, this will be only the beginning.

"Yesterday, the United States Congress was subjected to an invasion by protestors who aimed to shut down free debate and to coerce the members of this body into passing laws against their best judgement.  This invasion and occupation were only made possible because of the willing collusion of some elements of the Federal Government with the mob that was encamped outside of the Capitol.  Indeed, collusion is the best case scenario – it is wholly possible that the mob itself was a creation of those same elements of our own government.

"I wish I could describe this grotesque abuse as an isolated incident or a tragic mistake by a few misguided individuals.  But I cannot.  It is an escalation, to be certain, but one that fits into a pattern of hostile actions taken by certain elements of our government as led by the current President of the United States.  During his short time in office, this President has – in keeping with a pattern set by his predecessors – repeatedly exceeded his authority and violated both the spirit and the letter of the Constitution.  He has attempted to abuse the laws duly passed by the Congress in an attempt to legislate by decree.  He has unlawfully seized private property and appropriated it for his own purposes.  He has used the judicial organs of the government to attempt to silence and intimidate critics.  This President has consistently misused the powers granted to him by the American people in a way that is fundamentally destructive to their interests.

"When the Congress declined to borrow as much money as it wished, this Administration found a pseudo-loophole and invented for themselves a right to coin as much money as they needed.  When even that didn't prove enough, they used a law meant to allow the government to confiscate funds belonging to governments engaged in hostilities with the United States to simply steal money from American businesses.  When people spoke out against these abuses they tried to throw them in jail on trumped-up charges.  And when they Congress finally and definitively said no to all of this, then they sent a mob to shut us down.

"This must stop and it will stop.  This President believes himself to be immune from the law, free to take whatever actions he wishes because he still has the approval of the mob and so long as thirty-four Democrats in the Senate refuse to vote for his removal from office he is invincible.  And perhaps, today, that much is true.  But what of tomorrow?  And what of those who would follow the orders of this President?

"We, as Americans, have an obligation to refuse to follow unconstitutional orders – whether they come from a police chief or a President.  "I was just following orders" is not a defense for those who would violate fundamental rights.

"The President alone does not have the power to violate the rights of citizens or to shred the Constitution.  To do these things he must have collaborators.  Perhaps it is true that we will never convince enough Democratic members of the Senate to vote to convict this President and remove him from office, but he will be rendered equally powerless if those who serve this country – and have vowed to uphold the Constitution – refuse to execute his illegal orders.

"It is not merely that those called upon to do so should refuse to execute the illegal orders of this President, it is incumbent upon them that they must do so.  The Constitution is not optional.

"Accordingly, the Congress shall immediately pass a resolution noting that the so-called "superior orders" defense is no defense against either criminal or civil sanctions and, surely, merits the loss of employment under the Federal Government.  It is true that, today, this resolution will be of little effect and will certainly be symbolically vetoed by this President – but we shall place it upon the public record and we will act upon it in days to come and when there is – as soon enough there shall be – a change of Administrations.

"My fellow Americans, the time has come for all good citizens to rally to the aid of their country.  The acts of this government have become intolerable.  I am not asking you to riot.  I am not asking you to loot or kill.  I am asking all of you, as Americans, to rise up and to speak with a single voice saying that we are citizens of a republic, not subjects of a monarch.  That we are free citizens with the liberties of a free people and that we will not submit to tyranny or dictatorship.

"The Congress of the United States is here with you.  The Congress of the United States stands with freedom-loving people everywhere.  We will do so today.  We will do so tomorrow.  God willing we shall do this forever and ever.

"But a free Congress can only be an effective servant of a free people.  And that is why I am asking that you stand with us and help us here tonight.

"I want you to stand up and tell this President – and all who support him – and say that we will not tolerate the usurpation of our rights as Americans.  That we stand together and will not allow one further violation or one further transgression."

The Oval Office, The White House

"This is a fucking insurrection!" screamed the President at the top of his lungs.

"Mr. President..." said Secretary of Defense Gerald Ransom, attempting to get the President to stop and meet his eyes as the man moved back and forth in a random pattern across the Oval Office.

"No," said the President, stopping and turning to face the Secretary, who had been summoned to the White House, "I don't want to hear anything else about any of this.  They're trying to intimidate and threaten Federal employees into refusing to serve the people and I won't have it.  Is that clear?"

"Sir," said Jamal Anderson, "I think that..."

"No, no, no," repeated the President, "this isn't something that's open to compromise or general debate."

"I think," interjected the White House Counsel, "that the words of the Speaker – and their plain intent – clearly fall astray of the Insurrection Act.  The act clearly empowers the President to use force against any conspiracy that opposes or obstructs the execution of laws of the United States."

"Mr. President," said Secretary Ransom, "attempting to use force at this moment might have unthinkable, even unspeakable consequences..."

"Speak them," said the President coldly.

"What if they resist?" said the Secretary of Defense.

"It's an insurrection, Mr. Secretary: I expect them resist," replied Bryan.

"Yes, sir," said Ransom, "but what if they resist on a large scale?  Or what if the resistance isn't confined to just a few members of the Congress and the hangers-on that they have gathered around them?"

"Elaborate," said the President.

"Sir, you know as well as I do that soldiers – especially officers – lean towards the Republicans.  The country as a whole is leaning against us by at least sixty to forty percent right now; the military is certainly weighted more heavily than that.  If we attempt to order the military or Federal law enforcement to go and arrest members of the Congress, they might not do it."

"The military doesn't like plenty of missions.  They didn't like it when we made them include gay people.  They didn't like it when Harry Truman made them integrate black people, for that matter.  They'll grumble but they'll listen," predicted the President with confidence.

"Sir..."

"Issue the fucking orders, Mr. Secretary."

The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

General Richard Hall sat quietly at his desk, with his hands folded in front of him as he read the e-mail he had been copied on.

Soldiers from the 3rd Infantry Regiment – the unit responsible for rendering honors during funerals at Arlington National Cemetery and for guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier – had been ordered to prepare themselves for a mission that was tersely described by the office of the Secretary as, "in aid of the civil power."

Given the situation going on in Washington – one that was blaring from every single television and computer in the building – it was simple enough for General Hall to figure out why the unit was being called upon.  What was harder to figure out was why he had not been consulted.  The General picked up his phone.

"General," said Secretary Ransom, "let me explain.  You're not going to like this at all."

"The President ordered you to send soldiers in to break up these crowds in front of the Capitol.  I understand that.  But I don't know if the Old Guard is really enough on its own.  If we're going to do that, I think that we'll need to bring in larger regular forces.  Perhaps a Brigade of the 101st Airborne.  There's one at Fort Campbell..."

"No General," replied the Secretary, "you're right about where they're going, but you don't have what they're going to do there."

"What's he going to do," said General Hall, "march in there and arrest the Congress?"

Silence hung over the line.

"Wow," said Hall quietly.

"I know," said the Secretary, "I hope that I can have your full support on this.  I know that the President is counting upon you."

"Mr. Secretary...  Has the President seriously considered the effect that this will have upon the armed forces?"

"The President, General – as I do – expects that the armed forces will obey any and all legal orders, as distasteful as some might find them."

"All legal orders, Mr. Secretary.  That's the operative phrase.  I think that more than a few officers – including myself – might question the constitutional propriety of being ordered to arrest the Congress of the United States."

"Orders are orders, General," said the Secretary.

"Mr. Secretary," said Hall, "if you cannot successfully communicate the gravity of the situation here to the President, than I need to speak to the President himself.  This cannot go forward as planned.  It could cause the whole of the military to fly apart at the seams.  Some people will believe that they are obligated to obey any order issued by the President.  A handful will be eager to do it.  Others, however, will feel themselves to be duty-bound to resist."

"That would be mutiny, General."

Silence hung over the line once again.

"I really must insist that I be permitted to speak to the President, Mr. Secretary," said General Hall.

"General," said the Secretary, his tone softening, "if you must...  Let me see what I can do."

Russell Senate Office Building

"I don't like those guys," said Melanie McCullough as her and Senator Dawson walked down the hall and past two uniformed members of the Congressional Provisional Battalion.

"Well," said Dawson, "at least they've managed to allow food delivery trucks to get back onto the Capitol Grounds.

"Congress isn't supposed to have its own army," insisted the Deputy Press Secretary.

"To be fair," replied the Senator, "the police aren't supposed to stand aside and let a mob storm the House of Representatives either."

"People have a right to protest!"

"Oh, don't be naive Melanie.  That was simple and raw political intimidation.  A bold move, to be sure – but also a pretty damned thuggish one."

"What's the mood of the caucus?" asked the aide, switching topics.

"Pretty damned bleak.  They don't like the poll numbers at all.  Some of them think that the President will be able to swing people in his favor if the economy comes apart, but I think that idea is pure foolishness.  This isn't the Clinton years.  If this continues to be a catastrophe, the President will be blamed.  They think that the House will move to impeach the President...  And some of them aren't so adverse in many ways, except that they'll never vote to make Terrance Rickover the President of the United States.  That's why the President hasn't appointed a new Vice President yet – even the people in that room who hate his guts and think he's ruined the party for a generation don't want fucking Rickover sitting in the White House."

Rayburn House Office Building

It didn't take long before rumors of the mobilization of troops from the nearby Third Infantry Regiment made their way to Terrance Rickover and the rest of his inner council.

"Soldiers?" asked the Speaker incredulously. "He's going to send fucking soldiers to march into the Capitol to arrest us?  Who the fuck does he think that he is, Charles I?"

"People in the White House are getting kind of nervous," noted Michael Nelson, "hence the tip."

"Would they even do it?" asked the Speaker.

"Well," replied Nelson, "that is the question now.  Some would, I'm sure.  Some wouldn't."

"We have five-hundred armed people now," said Jacob Henry softly, "a mix of police officers, members of Congress, and staffers."

"But armed with what?  Personal weapons and stuff from the Capitol Police stocks?" asked Nelson.

"Pretty much," said Henry.

"And could they fight tanks, or even simple armored vehicles?" asked the Majority Whip.

"No," conceded the mercenary officer.

"We have thousands of reservists sitting outside," said the Speaker grimly.

"So do they," noted the Whip.

"If it came to an all-out fight, I'd bet on our guys over theirs."

Fort Myer, VA

"Prepare to deploy?" asked Lieutenant Colonel Michael Gregory incredulously as soon as the voice of the NORTCOM Deputy Commander stopped.

The commander of the 4th Battalion, Third Infantry Regiment was used to his unit being called forth for ceremonial occasions and disaster relief.  Never had he, in all of his years of training and military service, expected to be ordered to march his men into the centre of Washington, DC.

"You heard me, Colonel," said the Lieutenant General who was the deputy Commander of the Northern Command, "the 4th Battalion is ordered to draw live ammunition and fuel up all vehicles as well as to begin making operational plans for a pacification mission that will take place in its area of operations."

"Yes General," said Colonel Gregory after a pause.

"Do not begin any further operations until you receive further orders to proceed," added the General.

"Yes sir," said the Colonel robotically.  The General then hung up the phone and the Colonel set the handset back down upon the receiver.

"It's what we were afraid of," he said, turning to face Sam Wilkinson, the Captain in command of Alpha Company and his favorite junior officer, "exactly what the rumor mill said was coming down the line."

"The men won't like it," said Wilkinson. "Fuck: I don't like it."

"Neither do I," said Gregory sadly.

"What do we do?" asked Wilkinson.

"Do?  We do our fucking jobs.  That's what we do," shot back the Colonel.  He could see that Wilkinson was taken aback by that, so he softened his tone.

"Sam," he said, "this might be a hard week.  For you.  For me too.  Not only for the men and women in the battalion, but for the country.  They can't see you waver, or they'll waver too.  We need to stay strong and trust that this will all work out in the end."

"Jesus, Colonel," said Wilkinson, "they're going to order us to march into Washington to arrest members of the Congress.  This is fucking crazy."

"We just have to trust in the ability of the system to correct itself.  We have our duty."

"And if the system can't correct itself: what then?"

The Oval Office, The White House

"Mr. President," said General Hall as soon as he was admitted to the Oval Office, "I must tell you that I have the gravest possible reservations about this process.  I am not a lawyer or a politician, so I won't pretend that I'm in a position to judge either the legal or the political aspects of this.  But – from a military point of view – this is a potential disaster."

"General," said the President, rising from his seat, "I understand your concerns and I have considered them already.  But we must do what we must do.  The law must be executed."

"Yes, Mr. President," replied Hall, "we have all taken oaths to the Constitution and to the law...  But on a practical level, Mr. President..."

"Yes?" asked Bryan.

"Mr. President, I cannot predict what the effect of issuing this order would be.  I know that there are some officers and men under my command who would refuse to obey it.  How many, however...  I just don't know."

The President walked over to one of the chairs set up around a table fifteen feet in front of the Resolution desk and dropped into a chair.

"But you know that they exist?"

He patted one of the other chairs, beckoning the General to take a seat.  Hall walked over and did.

"Yes, Mr. President," replied the Army Chief of Staff.

"Then why are they still in the service!" hollered the President, jumping up from his chair and standing to hover over the General.

"You're telling me that there are traitors in the Army and that they're still there?" screamed the President at the top of his lungs. "Why the fuck are they still there?"

The General stopped for a moment to think about his next words.

"Mr. President...  I am telling you that there are officers who would feel duty-bound to refuse orders that they consider to be in violation of their Constitutional duties.  That is not the same thing."

"I am the Commander-in-Chief.  That's in the Constitution.  You are telling me that soldiers would disobey their Commander-in-Chief.  How is that anything but treason?"

"Mr. President, I'm a soldier.  I will obey my orders.  I will obey all lawful orders and remain within my correct realm.  I believe firmly that that is my duty and the duty of all soldiers and officers of the United States.  But I am telling you, sir, that you may only push men so far and so hard before you provoke a reaction.  And you are dangerously close to that point now, Mr. President."

"General," said the President, "you are relieved."

"If that is your wish, Mr. President," said Hall evenly.

"You are dismissed, General," said the President, backing away slowly.

The General stood, saluted, and exited the room.

Fort Stewart, GA

"He ordered what?" asked Major General Gregory Starnes, setting his cup of tea down on the counter.

"I've got it straight from a friend at the Pentagon," said Colonel Duncan Robinette, the Third Infantry Division's Chief of Staff. "The President ordered the Old Guard to go in and arrest the members of the Congress who've participated in raising this private security force and retaking the Capitol.  They haven't been given the go order yet, but General Hall went directly to the White House and was relieved as Chief of Staff over it."

"The fuck?" said Starnes.

"I never liked the man," said Colonel Robinette. "I thought that he was a fruitcake when he ran for President.  But I didn't think that he was totally fucking crazy.  At least not before."

"Will the Third Regiment do it?" asked General Starnes.

"It's absolute fucking chaos in the Pentagon and around Washington right now, General," said Robinette, "but I think that most people are conditioned to obey orders.  I just don't know.  Some will, some won't."

"Are they going to fight the security forces controlling the Capitol?"

"That's apparently the intention," answered Robinette.

"Fuck," said Starnes, walking over towards a window and looking out at the Georgia rain.

"I swore...  I swore to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, both foreign and domestic," said the Division commander.

"We all did, General," said the Chief of Staff.

"If the President of the United States orders the armed forces to disrupt the operations of the Congress – of the people's representatives – does he not become an enemy of the Constitution?  One of those domestic enemies that you and I and all of us here swore to defend the country against?"

"Assemble the senior officers that you trust, Colonel," said Starnes, "we have a decision to make."

The Capitol, Washington, DC

Members of the Congressional Provisional Battalion had done their best to clear a path for the Speaker to address the crowd from the West Front of the Capitol.  There had been some fighting between protestors and the security forces as well as between contending groups of protestors, but finally equipment had been able to be set up and the crowd sufficiently quieted to allow Rickover to be heard.  Some within the Speaker's entourage had opposed him leaving the semi-security that the Capitol complex offered, but Rickover had insisted.  This was something that he had to do.

"I never thought that I would live to see a day like today," began the Speaker, his words echoing over the crowd.

"Reports have reached us, from sources that we trust, that the President intends to turn the military and law enforcement apparatus of the Federal Government against the Congress.  He claims that our actions, in opposing his attempts to run this government by executive fiat, constitute an insurrection and he reportedly intends to use elements of the armed forces to restore order.

"As you all know, we have assembled a security force here to prevent a repeat of the events of the other day: the seizure of the Capitol by armed thugs was an intolerable outrage, especially in that it occurred with the clear collusion of elements of the Federal Government extending all the way up to the President.

"But the forces that we have here are not enough.  I must tell you now: if we wish to continue to have a government of the people, than that government must be defended by the people.  This is the people's house.  We would not surrender it to a foreign dictator.  Nor will I surrender it to a domestic one.

"Yet, in spite of the repeated violations of his Constitutional duties by this President, we still face an insurmountable legal obstacle in our quest to end this dictatorship: the President still, somehow, maintains more than thirty-four Democratic votes in the Senate that refuse to remove him from office.  Short of an extra-Constitutional coup, we have no means by which we might immediately secure our freedoms.  And if the President is allowed to take the Congress by armed force than, truly, all hope will be lost.

"I therefore ask you now – those of you standing here in front of me and those anywhere who can hear the sound of my voice – to stand with me in defense of free government.

"I will not lie to you.  We do not have enough weapons here to equip all of you.  Nor do we have the time to train you to defend this place against the sort of attack that might be mounted by the President should he be able to gather all of his forces.  It is our hope that the presence of an armed force in defense of the Capitol will, however, deter all but the most serious of blows and force the President to think about what he would be inaugurating by making such a move.  We will not assail the President.  He can have no conflict without himself being the aggressor.  By this action we hope that we might remind President Bryan – and all who support him – of the repeated lines that they have crossed in pursuit of their own dreams and of the ultimate consequences should they trespass further.

"Officers of the force raise to defend the Capitol – the Congressional Provisional Battalion – will be circulating momentarily.  As well, a web site is up at defendcongress.org or @defendcongress on Twitter.  Now is the time for all good men and women to come to the aid of their country."

The Oval Office, The White House

Senator Dawson of New York had, after considerable effort, finally managed to secure a meeting with the President.  When she was ushered into the Oval Office, she found Bryan sitting quietly in his chair behind the Resolution desk and gazing out the window at the nighttime visage of the nation's capital.

"All I wanted to do was to protect the people," said the President quietly as the Senator walked towards him.

"I know that, Mr. President," said Dawson softly.

"Do they?" said the President pitifully, pointing at the window.

"A lot of them do, sir," said the Senator.

"I only went into politics because I wanted to see the government do more to help people.  Because I grew up in places where people had nothing and I saw that there were so many places where others had everything.  That's all that I wanted."

"Mr. President, I know that, but I have to tell you that people are very frightened up on the Hill.  No one knows what's going to happen.  The Speaker has his own personal army wandering the halls of the Capitol now and there are these rumors that the army or the FBI is going to be coming and knocking down the doors of the place at any moment.  This is so far gone that someone has to back down.  And I don't think that it will happen on the Hill."

"It won't happen here, either," said the President, with a slight kick to his voice.

"Then where does this end?" asked the Senator.

"It ends," replied Bryan, "when the will of the people is done."

"But, Mr. President, everyone here thinks that they represent the will of the people.  Both mobs.  You.  The Speaker.  Everyone.  Now, I happen to agree mostly with you – but you can't all be right and you can't talk other people out of their deepest convictions."

"Those who have violated the law must bear the consequences of their actions," said the President firmly.

"At what cost, Mr. President?  If you order the Army to storm the Capitol and have them or someone else drag away the opposition, what is the reaction going to be?  In Washington?  In the media?  In the country?"

"Treason has been allowed to flourish, Senator," said the President, rising from his chair, "traitors have sought to undermine this country at every opportunity for years, attempting to seize our government and make it a creature of the wealthy and the mega-corporations.  I just won't have it.  I will stop it now, whatever the cost to myself might be.  I will return this country to the people."

"Mr. President..."

"I'm sorry, Senator," said the President, "it has been a terribly long day and tomorrow will be no easier.  I think I need to get some sleep."

The President got up and began to walk towards his private office, where he had often taken to sleeping in recent days.  As he reached the door, he stopped and turned to face the Senator.

"It would probably be best if you and the rest of our friends weren't in the Capitol in the morning."

Then he closed the door behind him.

U.S. House of Representatives

The Speaker and the Majority Whip were watching proceedings on the floor of the House when one of Nelson's deputies, a very young-looking Congressman from Oregon, pushed his way through the door.

"Michael!" he rushed through the door of the office before spying Rickover. "Mr. Speaker," he said more formally, stopping to straighten himself up.

"Almost all of the Democratic members of the House and Senate, along with staffers, have begun to clear the building," said the Congressman.

"Well, I suppose that means that they're coming," said the Speaker.

"Henry tells me that he has about two thousand volunteers for the Battalion from the crowd.  He's only giving weapons to people with military or law enforcement experience, and he's using them to try and block all breach points into the Capitol.  More experienced men, especially those from Praetorian or the active duty folks who have come over are, typically with a Capitol police officer or a staffer as a guide, serving as rapid-response teams within the complex itself," noted Nelson.

"The Democrats have all left the building," repeated the Speaker with a smile.

"Yeah," said Nelson, "but I mean – the President can veto anything we pass, if he'd even bother to look at it and not just declare anything we vote on now illegitimate..."

"Does anyone know where the Chief Justice is?" asked the Speaker, as he pulled out his personal smartphone and quickly began typing something out.

Fort Myer, VA

It was shortly after 4AM when the 4th Battalion was given its go order, issued directly through the chain of command by the Secretary of Defense.  No fewer than three officers within that chain had resigned rather than relay the order to the next echelon on down.  But, eventually, it had gotten there.

Many of the men and women of the battalion were themselves ambivalent about the assignment.  One in ten of them refused the order outright and were placed under arrest as a result.  Others obeyed, but moved slowly and voiced their reservations constantly.  What use they would be if the thing actually came to a fight remained a great unknown.  

The deployment of the battalion was further delayed by nearly an hour when some unknown party sabotaged the fuel pumps for the battalion's Stryker vehicles, leaving pools of diesel fuel on the ground for Colonel Gregory to tour.

"Fuck," said the Colonel as he looked at the effects that this single act of sabotage had already had.

"Don't people understand – this might be our only chance to avoid this blowing up into something larger?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Quentin Salinger, a young Second Lieutenant who commanded a platoon.  

"If everyone in Washington wants to act totally fucking insane, the only way that things might cool off is if we can separate the warring parties.  This is like the Goddamned Yugoslavia right now.  Right and wrong are out the window for the moment.  We just need to stop people from killing one another in great numbers."

"And if we march on it and arrest – or support the arrest – of members of the Congress, then what?" asked Salinger.

"We let the system sort things out."

"The same system that's putting talk show hosts in prison?  The same system that's utterly fucked up this whole country?"

"Lieutenant..." said the Colonel.

"No sir," said Salinger, "I can't, in good conscience, abide any of this."

"Lieutenant," said Gregory, "you don't want to go down this road..."

"Sir," replied Salinger, "to participate in an attack upon the Congress of the United States would be a violation of my oath under the Constitution."

"Son..." said Gregory.

"No sir," answered the Lieutenant.

The Colonel signed and gestured to two MPs who were standing nearby.

"Take Lieutenant Salinger into custody for violating Article 92 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice," ordered the Colonel.

Fort Stewart, GA

"This is a mutiny, you realize," said Colonel Robinette as he and General Starnes watched the line of Abrams Tanks and Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles of the 3rd Squadron of the 7th Cavalry Regiment get fueled and equipped.

"Is it?" said Starnes, "we have a duty, as officers, to defend the United States and its Constitution.  I would argue that if the Congress of the United States is under attack we, as soldiers of this country, have an obligation to defend it."

"Tell the court that right before they hang you," said Robinette.

"We live in such civilized times, Colonel.  They wouldn't hang me.  Inject me, maybe," answered the General.

"I don't think that these are going to be civilized times much longer," said the Chief of Staff sadly.

"Perhaps not," agreed Starnes, "perhaps that was part of the problem."

"Are those fuel trucks ready to go?" shouted the General as a Major jogged by.

"Almost good to go, General!" shouted the Major without stopping.

"Eighteen hours to Washington," said the General, checking his watch.

"Assuming that the fuel holds and that no one tries to stop you along the way," said Robinette.

"Nothing short of another Abrams is going to stop our fucking tanks," answered the General.

"The Air Force might," said Robinette.

"They're not even going to have time to process what the fuck is going on," said Starnes. "The Seventh Cavalry will be able to come to the rescue before they have a fucking clue.  I'm saddened that we could only move on battalion on such short notice, but damn am I proud that it's this particular one."

U.S. House of Representatives

"I'm surprised that they didn't think to secure the Chief Justice," said Senator Russell of Kansas as she and her colleagues were briefed on the Speaker's plan.

"You know, though, there are still a few Democrats around here," she said, "I suppose that they're supposed to delay things if we try and pull something like this so that their colleagues can come rushing back to save the day."

"We're prepared for that," replied Michael Nelson.

"Well," said the Speaker, "there's really no time to waste, is there?  I've prepared this in a hurry, but it ought to do in a pinch."

He touched the screen of his smartphone and e-mailed the text he had prepared to everyone in the room.

Resolved, that Kevin Jonathan Bryan, President of the United States, is impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors and that the following articles of impeachment be exhibited to the United States Senate:

Articles of impeachment exhibited by the House of Representatives of the United States of America in the name of itself and of the people of the United States of America, against Kevin Jonathan Bryan, President of the United States of America, in maintenance and support of its impeachment against him for high crimes and misdemeanors.

Article I

In his conduct while President of the United States, Kevin Jonathan Bryan has repeatedly violated his oath of office and his Constitutional duty to take care that the laws be faithfully executed.  He has abused his powers as the chief law enforcement officer of the United States by intimating and abetting criminal investigations into unambiguously non-criminal conduct with the purpose of intimidating and harassing political opponents.  He has seized private property without legal authorization and attempted to use it to fund spending not authorized by the Congress.

Wherefore, Kevin Jonathan Bryan, by such conduct, warrants impeachment and trial, and removal from office and disqualification to hold and enjoy any office of honor, trust or profit under the United States.

"You know," said Theresa Rowan, looking up from her smartphone, "some people are going to say that doing this while the Democrats aren't around is a dirty trick."

"Well," replied the Speaker, "fuck 'em."

Fort Myer, VA

Wheezing from the effort, 4th Battalion, Third Infantry Regiment was finally able to hit the road at a little after 8AM.  Only 75% of its personnel were available to make movement, and many of them were moving under protest.  Nearly a third of the battalion's officers had either resigned or refused their orders and been placed under arrest.  

The plan was for the 4th Battalion to serve as the primary assault force in displacing the forces of the Congressional Provisional Battalion who now occupied positions surrounding the Capitol, with the actual arrests of the rebellious members of the Congress being conducted by the FBI and every other sworn Federal Law Enforcement Officer that the President and the Department of Justice could lay their hands upon.  

Colonel Gregory was nervous as to what would happen if and when his soldiers were actually called upon to fire against their fellow Americans.  Given how many had refused to even contemplate the possibility, he wondered, how many would shrink from the actuality of it?

The Battalion's Stryker vehicles made their way down the road in near-darkness, with the streets still largely illuminated by artificial light and the regular flashes of the cameras of civilians taking pictures of the movement of the first unit of the U.S. Army ordered out to suppress a rebellion in more than a century and a half.

U.S. House of Representatives

"Mr. Speaker," Representative Ronald Fulton of New Mexico rose to speak, "I move that the rules of the House be suspended to allow for expedited passage of the resolution."

"Without objection, so ordered," announced Terrance Rickover from the chair.

"I move that the House proceed directly to a vote on the final passage of the resolution," said the New Mexico Congressman.

"Without objection, so ordered," repeated the Speaker, "the House will now cast its votes upon the resolution electronically."

It would later be called the "Half-Hour Impeachment."  This was somewhat inaccurate.  In fact, from the moment that Representative Fulton rose in the House until the completion of events in the Senate some forty-one minutes passed.

"By a vote of two hundred and forty-six to four, the resolution is carried," announced the Speaker, "the Clerk will inform the Senate of the action taken by the House."

Per the terms of the resolution, six members of the House had already been designated as impeachment "managers".  The moment that the impeachment passed the House, they took off for the Senate at a run.

U.S. Senate

"Mr. President," said Senator Jake Reinhardt of Michigan, "I move that the Senate do adjourn and reconvene as a court of impeachment to try the charges brought against President Kevin Bryan by the House of Representatives."

"Point of order!" shouted Senator Leigh Enfield of North Dakota, one of the few Democrats who had remained in the chamber.

"The Senator from North Dakota is recognized," said the President Pro Tempore.

"Mr. President, it is highly irregular – immoral even – for a trial to begin before the defendant is permitted even to mount a defense!"

"The point is not well-taken," replied the President Pro Tempore, "as an impeachment trial is a political act, not a judicial one, and the ordinary rules and standards of judicial procedure emphatically do not apply."

"What about standards of civilized behavior!" shot Enfield.

"The Senator is out of order," replied the President Pro Tempore evenly before continuing, "the motion by the Senator from Michigan, having been made and seconded, is recognized."

The Oval Office, The White House

"They can't do this," insisted a white-knuckled President Kevin Bryan as the latest events from the Congress streamed into the Oval Office.

"I don't know that we can stop them," said Jamal Anderson, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.  

"We could try and get our people back down to the Senate," suggested the Legislative Director.

"Which would mean calling off the arrest of the rebels," said the President, standing for a moment before stopping and leaning over his desk, "which is simply not an acceptable outcome."

"Mr. President," interjected the Secretary of Defense, "we could speed up the arrests.  The battalion is now in place.  I've been on the phone with the AG and the FBI Director all morning.  We're not 100% ready, but if we have to go now we can do that."

"Alright," the President nodded, "make it happen."

U.S. Capitol

The entire crowd, both pro and anti-Administration, had fallen virtually silent as the Federal forces began to assemble within view of the Capitol itself.

"Soldiers on the street of Washington, out to arrest the Congress, I never thought I'd see the day," said Christopher Sorensen as he tightly gripped the M-16A2 rifle that had been issued to him as a volunteer member of the Congressional Provisional Battalion.

"That's the difference between you and I, Chris," replied Martin Green, who had also signed on when the men from the CPB had begun to circulate throughout the crowd in search of volunteers, "I always did."

By the time that the morning of the 21st rolled around, the little army formed by the Congress had managed to equip and enroll nearly a thousand of the people who had come forward to volunteer for temporary service.  No one who did not have prior military or law enforcement experience had been issued a weapon, so the force consisted of men and women who had at least some training.  In fact, many of them were either combat veterans or long-term soldiers with specialized skills.  However, few of them had ever fought together before and they were lacking in anything beyond the most basic equipment and command and control.  Hand-held radios had been issued in the likely event that the Federal Government would shut down the cellular phone network when the time came for the final assault on the Capitol, but they were only available in limited quantities.  Lacking an effective screening and personnel selection process, the Congressional Provisional Battalion had organized itself using the same method as militia units in the early days of the Republic: they had elected their own officers.  It was by such means that both Green and Sorensen had officially become Lieutenants in that force.

"Do not fire unless fired upon," breathed Green to himself, "but if they mean to have a war, then let it begin here."

"What was that?" asked Sorensen.

"Just something that we'd forgotten," answered Green.

Sorensen's phone rang.  It was only intermittently functional, but there were enough power sources around that he'd been able to charge it at least every once and a while.  He answered the phone.

"Where are you?" Sarah Watkins' voice was ice-cold.

"I'm where I said that I would be, Sarah.  I'm at the Capitol."

"Do you know what's going on?  There are soldiers coming to arrest the people there for treason."

"Technically, I believe that it's insurrection," answered Sorensen, "and depending on what goes on inside of the Capitol in the next few minutes, it is they – and not we – who will be the insurgents."

"This is tearing the whole country apart," said Sarah, tearfully, "don't you care about that?"

"Some things are more important than comity for the sake of comity."

"This is tearing us apart.  Do you have any idea what my friends are saying?"

"I can take a guess."

"Don't you care?  Don't you feel?"

"I think, Sarah...  I think that what is happening here is more important that you and I.  I wish that you could see that..."

"Don't come home," Sarah hissed.

"I might not even be able to," answered Christopher, twisting the knife.  The call disconnected.

U.S. Senate

The dazed Chief Justice of the United States sat in front of the United States Senate, ashen-faced.  He wished that he could be anywhere other than here.  All of his legacy, all of his work would ultimately be judged based upon this single act.  The Constitution required that the Chief Justice of the United States preside over any impeachment trial of a President of the United States and he could have, if he had wished, foiled entire process by the simple expedient of absenting himself from the city.  But duty had not permitted it.  The process over which he found himself presiding was irregular and perhaps even unfair and immoral, but it was Constitutional.  All of his life, his first duty had been to the Constitution.  It was too late for him to vote "present," especially on a question of such awful moment for the country.

"The Senate having resolved itself into a court of impeachment and having voted, by majority vote, to dispense with all formal presentation of the charges and evidence as well as any refutation of the same, I now – while registering my formal objection to the process used by the Senate – call for the Senators to cast a vote of either guilty or not guilty on the sole article of impeachment."

U.S. Capitol Grounds

As soon as the 4th Battalion arrived on the scene, the mobs of protestors had begun to disperse on both sides.  Some of the pro-Administration members of the mob had withdrawn to a safe distance, where they found themselves in the unusual position of cheering on the United States Armed Forces.  Others had, on seeing the guns and armored vehicles, simply run away as fast and as far as was humanly possible.  Every single Federal law enforcement resource that could be mustered was also deployed to the scene, as members of the Congressional Provisional Battalion eyed the soldiers of the U.S. Army across the couple of hundred years that separated them.  

"Attack, attack, attack," came the frantic orders to Colonel Gregory from the political branch of the government, desperate to forestall the vote inside of the Capitol but unwilling to withdraw their threat of physical coercion in order to thwart it by democratic means.  Colonel Gregory raised his radio to speak and carefully enunciated his words.

"This is Roland Actual.  All units, standby."

The Colonel signaled his driver to bring the Humvee to a stop and opened the door.  As he jumped to the ground, several of his soldiers moved to follow him.  He held up his hand and gestured for them to stay put.

Moving beyond the line of Stryker fighting vehicles, the Colonel began to walk methodically towards the line of nervous men with rifles and whatever other improvised weapons had been issued to the Congressional Provisional Battalion.  The men and women of the CPB eyed the lone U.S. Army officer warily as he moved ever closer to them.

"Who is in command over there?" shouted the Colonel.

"What does it matter?" sneered one of the CPB soldiers, "you're just going to do whatever your President says anyways."

"I want to talk to the commander here.  One soldier to another," replied Gregory, taking another step towards the barricade.

For nearly a minute, the Colonel stood silent, his arms in the air, as the Congressional soldiers kept their rifles pointed towards him.  Then Jacob Henry, now wearing an unadorned uniform, came tearing forward.

"Lower those rifles," ordered Henry as he approached from the opposite side.

"Sir," said the Colonel, "my name is Michael Gregory.  I am the commander of the 4th Battalion, Third Infantry Regiment, United States Army.  I have been ordered by the President of the United States to render assistance to the civil power in putting down an insurrection within the city of Washington, DC.  The forces under your command represent a clear obstruction to the enforcement of the laws of the United States.  I will remove that obstruction by force if necessary, but I wish to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

"Colonel," replied the CPB commander, "my name is Jacob Henry, and I am the commander of what has been designated, pursuant the resolution of the House of Representatives, as the Congressional Provisional Battalion.  I will not initiate offensive action against your forces, but I will defend this position against any illegal intrusion."

"Mr. Henry," said Gregory, "my orders come from the President.  I will use force to execute my orders if required.  Your force cannot possibly hope to withstand mine."

"We shall see," replied Henry, "but we shall certainly try.  Personally, I wouldn't count on all of your boys to shoot us when you give them the other to do so.  I wouldn't rule out that some will come over to our side."

"Well," replied Gregory, "we shall see."

U.S. Senate

"The vote being fifty-six guilty to two not guilty, I hereby direct that a verdict of guilty be recorded against Kevin Jonathan Bryan, President of the United States and that, consequently, Kevin Jonathan Bryan do be removed from his office and disqualified from any other office of trust or profit under the United States," said the Chief Justice.

A great cheer arouse from the Senate Chamber and reverberated throughout the Capitol, spreading almost instantly from the inside to the outside as the people still gathered in the surrounding area saw what the Congress had done.

"The proceeding are now adjourned," announced the Chief Justice, banging his gavel with a convincing thump.

As soon as the Chief Justice stepped down from the rostrum, Michael Nelson walked up to him, a Bible tucked under his arm.

"Alright John," he said, "let's go and do this thing."

The Oval Office, The White House

"Why hasn't the attack begun?" demanded an outraged President.

"The commander of the forces on scene first attempted to parlay with the opposing force," said the Secretary of Defense.

"Well now..." said the exhausted President, trailing off.

"Mr. President, that will never hold up or be recognized as legitimate by a majority of the American people, or even the courts," assured Chief of Staff Jamal Anderson in his most-soothing tone of voice available.

"Just tell them to go.  Now," ordered the President.

Smithfield, NC

The 3rd Squadron of the Seventh Cavalry Regiment was passing through central North Carolina when the latest broadcasts from Washington, DC announced that the Senate had removed President Bryan from office.

"...Scholars are divided on the legality of the act of the Senate," explained the NBC Radio broadcast, "in that the so-called impeachment trial occurred both with almost all of the Senate Democrats physically barred from the Capitol and, further, without the President being allowed to present a defense of any sort."

"An impeachment trial," insisted the Republican commentator, "is not a trial in the criminal sense.  An accused individual has no specific rights.  This is wholly a political act and, therefore, can take any form so long as it respects the forms set out within the Constitution."

"But surely," challenged the anchor, "the Founders – who you so often defer to – never intended for an impeachment to take place wholly while the members of one party were absent from Congress."

"They chose to absent themselves from the Congress.  Clearly, that was a very foolish act.  Like how the United Nations was able to authorize the Korean War because the Soviets were boycotting the U.N. Security Council at the time.  There's nothing illegitimate about taking advantage of one side's tactical error."

"But you already hear Senate Democrats arguing that they were, in fact, basically physically barred from the Capitol by the threat of violence and this militia that has been raised by the Speaker of the House."

"The question, however, is simply whether or not the action of the Senate was permitted under the rules of the Senate.  A quorum existed and a majority of two-thirds voted to remove the President from office.  Accordingly, Terrance Rickover is now – or will be as soon as he's sworn into office – the President of the United States."

Word of the movement by the Seventh Cavalry had not taken long to make its way to the internet and the world.  General Starnes had made the decision, for the time being, to simply ignore everyone calling him and ordering him to stop, not even bothering to answer any of their calls.  

"Perhaps," said Colonel Robinette, "by the time we get to Washington, this thing will be effectively over."

"I don't know," replied Starnes, gesturing towards the crowds that had gathered to cheer the progress of the cavalry squadron on at nearly every town along their route. "Do you think that they'll cheer us like this everywhere?  I mean, as much as I hate that son of a bitch, he definitely still has supporters."

U.S. House of Representatives

"Please raise your right hand, place your left hand on the Bible, and repeat after me," said the shell-shocked Chief Justice as he stood in front of the packed House chamber.  The Speaker of the House followed his instructions.

"I, Terrance Timothy Rickover, do solemnly swear..."

"I, Terrance Timothy Rickover, do solemnly swear..."

"That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States..."

"That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States..."

"And that I will, to the best of my ability..."

"And that I will, to the best of my ability..."

"Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."

"Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.  So help me God."

The Chief Justice weakly extended his hand.

"Congratulations, Mr. President," he meekly said, as the entire House broke out in wild applause.  Terrance Rickover stood up and turned to the assembled crowd, which included practically everyone still within the Capitol complex, with the House floor crowded with not only members but also practically every single staffer and intern.

"My fellow Americans," said the Acting President, "I assume the office of the Acting Presidency with a heavy heart.  I recognize that the process by which I have arrived at this place has been rushed and irregular.  I regret that it must be so.  But, that being said, with the army having been ordered to bear down upon the Capitol to suppress the Congress of the United States, I feel justified in asserting that as one norm had already been broken it had become necessary to break others.

"We have taken this action in order to uphold the Constitution when, quite simply, we ran out of other options.

"My single overriding priority now is to resolve the present crisis without violence.  To that end, I have ordered the ad hoc security force that had been created to protect the Congress not to fire a single shot unless they are first fired upon.  I hereby, as the President of the United States, order that all elements of Federal power – both military and civilian law enforcement – cease any and all plans for an assault upon this building immediately.

"The single objective of our Federal Government in the immediate future must be the restoration of order both here and abroad.  We will restore normality to our financial markets and ensure that the acts of our government are regular and predictable, so that normal economic activity might resume both in this country and in the world.

"My fellow citizens, I appeal to you now: refrain from violence.  We can still have peace – and we can have it today – if we recognize all that we have in common as Americans.  We can restore basic Constitutional principles and make our government genuinely accountable to the people once more.  We can still ensure that America is at peace at home and strong abroad.  We can do all of these things, but we can do them only if we, now decide to pull back from the brink and let all of the old feuds die.

"I will speak to you again soon.  God bless you and God bless the United States of America."

U.S. Capitol Grounds

Time had run out.  The White House and the Secretary of Defense were ordering the attack continuously.  Why had the attack not come yet?  When was it coming?  The questions and the orders were non-stop.  Some of Colonel Gregory's soldiers argued that they should follow the orders of Terrance Rickover, who now claimed to be the President, but that claim was seemingly recognized by no one in the 4th Battalion's chain of command.  Who really was in charge?  For Colonel Gregory's money it was whoever was in the White House and the Pentagon issuing orders and he, as a soldier, was duty-bound to follow those orders.

The Colonel took a deep breath before he finally spoke.

"All units, this is Roland Actual.  Begin the attack."

The Stryker vehicles moved forward across the open ground in the direction of the Capitol.  Moving slowly, at just a few miles per hour, they gave plenty of time for the members of the Congressional Provisional Battalion holding the perimeter to fall back in a gentle and graceful dance.  The Congressional soldiers didn't have weapons that would allow them to fire upon the armored vehicles with any effect and, in any case, they didn't want to have to do so.

As the vehicles approached the steps of the Capitol, the CPB soldiers trained their rifles upon them.  The radio net for the Congressional Army exploded with orders.

"Hold your fire, hold your fire..."

The Congressional soldiers held their weapons close as the Company worth of Strykers dropped their rear hatches.  A loudspeaker mounted on one of the vehicles broadcast out demands.

"Lay down your weapons!  We do not wish to fire upon you, but will do so if you resist!"

"Hold steady!" ordered Jack Hawkins, the U.S. Representative from Oklahoma whose combat experience and position of authority had made him the ideal man to command the company of soldiers defending the West Front of the Capitol.

The soldiers of Bravo Company of the 4th Battalion were pouring out of their vehicles now, moving into firing positions versus the Congressional militia.  One after another scrambled out of the back of their Strykers and gathered into formation.

"We have been ordered by the President of the United States to facilitate the return of this place to the control of the United States Government!" shouted Captain Devon Gagnon, the commander of Bravo Company.

"Lay down your weapons!" Captain Gagnon continued, "and no one will be hurt!"

"I have been ordered by the President of the United States to hold this place on behalf of the government of the United States!" shouted back Congressman Hawkins, "and I will use force to see that this is done.  If you attempt to take this place by force, you will be fired upon!"

On a hand signal from Gagnon, Bravo Company began to carefully advance up the Capitol steps.  Representative Hawkins stood in absolute silence.

"Put down your guns!" ordered Captain Gagnon, echoed by most of the rest of the soldiers of Bravo Company.  Their shouts became an indecipherable cacophony of noise.  They were joined by the members of the Congressional Provisional Battalion screaming warnings back at the Army soldiers to stay back.

Ten thousand cameras were filming the events in front of the Capitol.  Both groups of soldiers moved inexorably closer together as one agonizing second after another passed, both training their rifles menacingly on one another.  Before anyone could gain a handle on the situation, they were at almost point blank range.  It agonizing frame-by-frame examination of multiple video feeds to figure out what happened next.  One of the Congressional Provisional Battalion soldiers, a twenty-six-year-old Capitol policeman named Wayne Shelton, opened fire on one of the Army soldiers.  Many argue that he did so because he saw a sudden movement by the soldier.  Others think that he just panicked.  Some believe that he just did it.  Whatever the reason, once Wayne Shelton opened fire, everyone opened fire all at once.

In a span of just under fifteen seconds, the four hundred and seventeen men and women ranged against each other on the steps of the Capitol fired the better part of two thousand rounds at one another from extremely close range.  Neither side was prepared either for combat or for the tremendous carnage that ensued.  Rifle bullets fired from just feet away tore into human flesh as both sides fired in either full automatic or semi-automatic modes.  To the degree that there was any sensible control left within Bravo Company, its soldiers sought immediately to pull backwards in order to allow the automatic weapons of their Strykers to engage without inflicting friendly casualties.  Within the less well-disciplined Congressional Provisional Battalion, all command and control broke down almost instantly.  Congressman Hawkins attempted to order his soldiers to halt fire and withdraw, but within seconds he was silenced when he was struck in the neck by the first of the seventeen bullets that would hit him.  Some of the militiamen broke and ran wildly, while others simply responded with an insensate rage, firing every single bullet that they had in the direction of the Army.

Thirty seconds after the first shot was fired, the initial firing was over.  One hundred and four members of Bravo Company lay dead or wounded along the Capitol steps along with one hundred and fifty-six Congressional volunteers.  

"Fuck!" screamed Colonel Gregory, grabbing off his helmet and throwing it against the ground.

"We have the steps," radioed Captain Gagnon in a deathly ill voice, "but we cannot proceed.  We require all available medical assistance."

The Situation Room, The White House

"Mr. President," said Secretary of Defense Ransom, "should we order the next phase?"

President Kevin Bryan sat silently in his chair, wordlessly watching the latest live feeds from the Capitol.

"All I ever wanted to do was to ensure that everyone could have a decent life," the President said sadly to himself.

"Mr. President," repeated the Secretary of Defense, "given what has happened already, I believe that we require your order to proceed."

"I have to explain to the people," insisted the President quietly.

"Mr. President..." said the Secretary.

"Do whatever you have to do," said the President.

"Sir," replied Ransom, "I think that this situation requires more explicit instructions than that.  Should we continue the attack on the Capitol and arrest the insurgent members of the Congress, pursuant to your earlier orders?"

The President gazed at the ground for ten seconds as every eye at the table trained on him.

"Do it," he finally said, "whatever you need...  Just get it done.  Now."

U.S. Capitol Grounds

The Congressional Provisional Battalion had been forced to withdraw behind the doors of the Capitol under the fire of Bravo Company.  The end of the initial standoff, however, posed new logistical challenges.  

"When they come through the door, open fire," order Jacob Henry as he and the other sweat-soaked men and women took up their positions within the Capitol complex itself.

Alexandria, VA

General Richard Hall was unsurprised when the phone rang at his Alexandria townhouse and his caller ID showed that the call was coming from the personal line of the Secretary of Defense.

"General Hall," said Ransom.

"Mr. Secretary," said the General curtly as he continued to read the latest news from a two tablets and a computer set out across his kitchen table as he wife brought him endless cups of coffee.

"General, we need you back," said Ransom flatly.

"I have been relieved by the President," said General Hall.

"I'm willing to take responsibility for bringing you back," answered the Secretary, "but right now the whole of the military is coming apart.  Already some units are signaling Terrance Rickover for orders, but he's out-of-touch, given that the last reports have him in the Capitol, under fire.  Soldiers have mutinied in multiple units when given orders to move.  You're the one figure with enough respect in the Army – and the armed forces as a whole – to keep this situation from devolving into an all-out civil war."

"Mr. Secretary," said Hall, "frankly, I'm not even sure who the legitimate President is at this point or what the next steps are.  The economy is collapsing minute-by-minute and there's no one effectively in control of the country."

"That's why we need to keep the Armed Forces together, General.  I'm a Republican, as I believe that you are as well...  Between you and I, I don't like a lot of this President's agenda either.  But I don't believe that an armed insurrection is the way to oppose him.  And, even if I believed that was right – I certainly don't believe that we can have the armed forces fracturing along ideological lines."

"According to the reports that I've seen, that's already happening, Gerald."

"Come back, then, and keep together as much as you can.  I don't know what the solution will be at this point – but any hope of a peaceful end to this ends if the military is divided into competing factions."

"I...  I'll have to think about it, Mr. Secretary," Hall finally answered.

The Capitol

Acting President Terrance Rickover had, almost immediately after his swearing in, been relocated to emergency space in the underground Capitol Visitor's Centre.

"Mr. President," said Jacob Henry, "they still aren't advancing into the Capitol complex itself.  We're holding the hallways with as many men as we can.  If they try and enter, there will be a bloodbath.  I don't know if we can stop them but, by God, we can definitely make them pay."

"Let's hope that it doesn't come to that," said Rickover.

The problem facing the infant Rickover Administration was simple: they had no means of directly contacting most of the Federal Government and since almost all Executive Branch officials were appointees either of President Bryan or President Warren, few of them were inclined to accept orders from a usurper President and to pass them on to their subordinates.  Thus were the group of men and women who, in theory, the new Executive Branch of the government reduced to using their handful of secure lines of communication to simply attempt to make phone calls and send e-mails to people that they happened to know and to beg them for their cooperation.

Immediately after convicting the President and removing him from office, both the Senate and the House had immediately adjourned sine die, explicitly for the purpose of allowing the Acting President to dismiss the existing Cabinet and other Presidentially-appointed officials to install replacements by making recess appointments, but this was challenging in two respects.  First, it was difficult to find qualified people willing to accept Federal offices from a besieged bunker and second, none of the people who he had been able to appoint had control over any of the facilities that they required to do their jobs.

"The problem here," Rickover finally said, "is chains of command.  Even in cases where we've seen individual acts of mutiny or defections, in most cases we need the entire chain of command to come over to us or else we can't really mobilize anyone for action.  For the time being, I think, that we should forget about trying to gain control of most of the Federal apparatus."

"Well, what then?" said Michael Nelson, soon to be promoted to House Majority Leader, but temporarily serving as Rickover's de facto Chief of Staff.

"The states," said Rickover.

"But, when Federalized, the soldiers of any state National Guard fall firmly within the DOD's purview," pointed out Nelson.

"Well, sure.  But if they're only de facto Federalized, rather than de jure, is there any practical impediment to the Governor of, say, Arizona ordering their National Guard units to report to me or such official as I might designate, instead of accepting ordinary Federalization?"

"I suppose not," agreed Nelson.

"Then let's get on the fucking phone," said Rickover.

Petersburg, VA

General Starnes watched as his fleet of M1000 Heavy Equipment Transporters pulled over for a penultimate time to refuel.  The giant trucks had hauled the 3rd Squadron's Abrams and Bradleys all the way from Georgia, but now it was almost time for the armored vehicles to disembark and take to the road on their own.  

The General walked over to the Squadron commander, a sandy-haired Lieutenant Colonel in his late 30s.

"Colonel," said Starnes, "how are the boys holding up?"

"They're all listening to the latest news from all of their personal devices," said Colonel Taylor Smith, "and they're fucking ready to go.  Especially after what happened on the steps of the Capitol."

"Ready to fight fellow soldiers?" enquired the General.

"I don't think that anyone feels great about that General, and I don't think that any of them envy those men in the Old Guard...  But, yes, they're damned well prepared to fight."

"Well, I think that's what we're going to have to do," said Starnes, "we'll disembark around Fredericksburg and go on the rest of the way tracked."

"What if they start blowing bridges?" asked the Colonel.  

"Then we're fucked," said Starnes, "but I don't know if they're organized enough to do that.  Anyways, we have a lot of personnel – we can fight on foot if we have to.  It sure doesn't sound like they have a lot of personnel on their side either, or else they'd have already taken the Capitol."

"Do we know where we're going, General?" asked Smith.

"What do you mean?" asked Starnes.

"Well, almost everyone assumes that we're going to the Capitol...  But we could end this even sooner if we headed to the other end of Capitol Hill.  Couldn't we?"

"Hmmm..." responded the General, "perhaps we should ask the President."

"I'm pretty sure he'd be against us storming the White House, General."

"Not that one.  The other one."

The Capitol

Mark Preston had served four years as the Deputy Secretary of Defense before he had retired to a life of luxury as a K-Street lobbyist.  Once, in another life, he'd had ambitions of taking the top job at the DOD in the next Republican Administration, but those dreams had waned as his accounts receivable had waxed.  Not only would a return to the Pentagon have meant giving up a seven-figure income stream, but his myriad contacts with defense contractors would have made his confirmation a torturous process with no more than 50/50 odds of success.  This morning he had woken up as just another resident of This Town concerned with what the absolute mess in Washington meant for the economy and for his business.  He'd gone to the Capitol that morning for consultations at the invitation of the Speaker.  Now, at mid-afternoon, he was suddenly the Secretary of Defense.

"Mark," Acting President Rickover had told him, "you're the only guy with the contacts to pull together the vast defense apparatus without control of the Pentagon bureaucracy.  I need you.  You're the Secretary of Defense."

The challenge that existed this Wednesday afternoon was that while the military as a whole was broadly sympathetic to Acting President Rickover and a majority of officers and soldiers were likely to accept his claim upon the Presidency in theory, the Pentagon bureaucracy was still definitively in the hands of the Bryan Administration, as was a substantial minority of the military.  Worse still, many of those inclined to be politically sympathetic to Rickover and the Republicans would still act in accordance with the orders of their superiors who were still aligned with President Bryan.  

Someone had shut down cellular phone and internet service to the Capitol itself.  However, rudimentary communication lines were being maintained by those who had access to personal devices that had satellite access.  It was quite possible that these satellite phones were being monitored but, for the time being, they were pretty much the only means of communication with the outside world.  It was by these means that General Starnes reached Preston.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Secretary," said Starnes to his old friend.

"Thanks," said Preston hurriedly, "but now we have a pretty damned large load of troubles."

"Indeed.  I'm on my way.  One heavy battalion.  3-7 Cav.  Where do you want us?"

"Sorry...  Where are you?"

"We're two hours out," answered the General.

"All the fucking way from Georgia?"

"All the fucking way, Mr. Secretary.  Fully loaded.  We're good to go.  But, where do we go?"

The Pentagon

When General Richard Hall walked back into the Pentagon, almost everyone stopped to stare.  They knew that the General had stood up to the President over the assault on the Capitol and they knew that he'd been gone for nearly a day.  The rumors were that he had been fired.  Now, walking into the National Military Command Centre wearing his full uniform, the General brushed questions aside.

"What's our status?" he asked.

General Martin Walker, the Vice-Chief of Staff of the Army walked up to him.

"General, it's damned chaos out there.  Units are refusing to respond to commands, or calling us here and demanding to speak to Mark Preston..."

"Preston?" asked Hall.

"The rebels announced that he'd been appointed as the Secretary of Defense a few hours ago," answered a staffer.

"Right," nodded Hall, holding his arms up.

"Ok, everyone stop for a second," he said.

"I know that the situation is terrible right now.  There are a lot of hotheads out there, both inside and outside of the armed forces and they're making a bad situation a lot worse.  I know that some of you aren't fans of the current President and his policies.  I know that a lot of you have had thoughts or said things like, 'I took an oath to the Constitution, not to this President.'  I understand those feelings.  I share in them.  I took an oath to the Constitution and not to the President.  That cuts both ways, ladies and gentlemen.  There's a process and there are elections and there are courts.  I know that things look bad right now.  Wrongs have certainly been committed.  But our government ultimately remains one of laws and not of men.  If we can keep our cool and keep the Armed Forces together, we can keep the country together.

"However, if the military comes apart – then what happened on the steps of the Capitol today will only be the beginning.  That's our job today.  Not to champion any particular political cause, but to keep the armed forces together so that we can keep our country together."

He looked around the room to see nods all around.

"My first order: all previous orders authorizing offensive action are withdrawn.  Units are to defend themselves if fired upon only.  No offensive action whatsoever.  Is that clear?  These orders are to stand unless they are countermanded by a higher authority."

"Ok then.  Now, what's our status in detail?"

"Different units are responding in totally different ways.  Some units have signaled that they're standing by and awaiting our orders.  Others have called us to announce that they're only going to accept orders from the rebel government.  Others have gone dark.  We're keeping track of it on the screen," said Walker, pointing to a giant monitor.

Hall walked towards it, put on his glasses and squinted.

"What is the 3-7 Cavalry doing in northern Virginia?" he asked.

"Well," answered Walker, "that's what we were just grappling with."

The Capitol

"Mr. President," began Mark Preston, "Third Squadron, Seventh Cavalry Regiment – essentially a heavy battalion – has raced north from Georgia over the last twenty-four hours.  The best reports that we have are that they're now in position to the north of Fredericksburg.  There aren't any other heavy units in the Washington, DC region.  They could be here in a few hours."

"To lift the siege of the Capitol?" asked Rickover.

"Well," answered Preston, "that's one option.  Major General Gregory Starnes – he's the commander of the Third Infantry Division but he's essentially taken command of the Squadron for the moment – has proposed that they could use their power to move directly on the White House to arrest President...  Former President Bryan and to, hopefully, bring this whole mess to an immediate end."

"Mr. President," interjected Michael Nelson, "I know that this has been a terrible day.  And I recognize the situation that we are now in...  But what is the world going to think if you begin your Administration by rolling tanks down Pennsylvania Avenue?  They'd call it a coup d'etat."

"What would you have us do?" asked the Acting President, "we can't live in the Capitol Visitor's Centre forever."

"No.  We can't.  But the people outside are holding their distance from us.  I don't think that they're going to try and come in.  And if what the Secretary is saying is right – there's a tank battalion ready to simply march into this city – then I think we'll be able to lift the siege without further loss of life here.  Then we can put on political pressure for a peaceful settlement."

"What sort of settlement?"

"I don't know.  But I think that if we take the rest of the government by force, we risk civil war.  Or at the least a prolonged insurgency."

"If we don't take the President now, then we risk an actual civil war," pointed out Preston, "even if a large portion of the military sides with us, some will feel duty-bound to stand by the existing Administration.  Not everyone in the military is a Republican – some of them will go along ideologically.  And they'll certainly have control of most of the civilian apparatus of the Federal Government, many state governments, and all of the resources that come with that."

"Alright." replied Rickover, "I'm convinced.  Order them to take the White House.  Take Bryan alive, if they can.  If this can be over now, that's a risk worth taking."

The Situation Room, The White House

President Kevin Bryan sat quietly as the room around him buzzed with activity.

"...Twenty miles south of the city..."

"Surely we have some special forces that we could deploy?" asked one Undersecretary of Defense.

"We should evacuate the White House," maintained one official.

"That'd signal to the rebels that they'd already won," shot back the Secretary of State.

"Alright!" Secretary Ransom finally announced to the room, "I have some more information."

General Richard Hall walked through the door.  The President looked at him quizzically for a moment.

"General Hall," he said, then stopped.

"Mr. President," replied the General curtly.

"It's good to see you," the President finally said, sinking into his chair.

"I'll keep this brief," said Hall, "elements of the Third Infantry Division, led by the division commander, joined the rebel forces even before the fighting in Washington began today.  As a result, there is a battalion-sized force on the way to Downtown Washington right now.  We don't have anything on the ground that can stop them."

"You're telling me," the Secretary of State challenged Hall, "that there's nothing in place that can defend the capital of the most powerful country on Earth from just one battalion of tanks?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Mr. Secretary," said Hall, "no one anticipated that something like this would happen.  The ground forces that we have in and around Washington are small and largely ceremonial.  Putting them into the field would result against a full-on heavy cavalry battalion would result in enormous casualties.  Further, under the present circumstances, the handful of small units that exist would be of dubious reliability.  There are some National Guard and Reserve forces in the region, but they wouldn't be able to mobilize in time even if they would respond to the call...  And I'm not sure that they would."

"So..." said the Secretary of State, "what you're saying is that we're defenseless?"

"Not exactly," responded the General, "we're only getting spotty acknowledgements from other units back at the Pentagon right now.  But one unit that is responding is the 4th Fighter Wing from Seymour Johnson Air Force Base in North Carolina.  The commander there tells me that he has a group of F-15Es ready to go.  They've been fighting it out for control of the base, but he's got some of them ready to go.  I'd rather not use them, but if we're going to stop an attack on Washington...  That's the weapon that we have on hand."

"You want the President to order an air strike on American soil?" said the Secretary of State with incredulity.

""Want" is the wrong word, Mr. Secretary," answered Hall.

The Capitol

"The latest reports that we've had passed on to us are that they're attempting to generate an air strike against us out of Seymour Johnson AFB down in North Carolina," explained Preston.

"Can we do anything about that?" asked Acting President Rickover.

"Well...  We've begun to generate a map of which installations have definitively come over to our side," answered the Secretary of Defense, "it's spotty, because we don't have full communications.  But my understanding is that the 20th Fighter Wing out of Shaw Air Force Base in Sumter, South Carolina announced for us.  Likewise, the Governor of Virginia has recognized you as the legitimate President.  So has the Governor of North Carolina.  That gives us some options."

"Such as?" asked Michael Nelson.

"Well, we don't have any real air assets that we wholly control in the greater DC region.  My understanding, though this was as of a few hours ago, is that there's a standoff between the Air National Guard and the Federal forces at Langley.  But I think we might be able to mobilize some ground units in North Carolina and use them to neutralize the 4th Fighter Wing.  Or at least the elements loyal to Bryan.  But that might take a bit.  The faster option is to order the F-16s out of Shaw to launch a strike against Seymour Johnson."

"You want the President to order one Air Force base to attack another?" asked Theresa Rowan.

"I want us to get out of this in one piece," shot back Preston.

"Can we get a message to them in time?" asked Rickover.

Joint Base Langley–Eustis, Hampton, VA

The 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team traced its lineage back to the famed "Stonewall Brigade" commanded by General Thomas Jonathan Jackson during the First Civil War.  Per the orders of the Governor of Virginia, the elements of the brigade had been mustered at Staunton, Virginia and ordered to prepare for action.  Their mission was to descend upon Hampton, VA in order to support elements of the Virginia Air National Guard as well as U.S. Air Force in seizing control of Joint Base Langley-Eustis on behalf of the new Federal Government.

As a result of the first attempt to storm the Capitol, fighting had broken out for control of the base itself.  However, between the 633rd and 733rd Security Forces Squadrons, the base commander had managed to keep the majority of the facility in the hands of the Bryan Administration.  Members of the Virginia Air National Guard who had attempted to take the field had been repulsed and rebellious members of the US Air Force had been successfully placed under arrest.  Now the soldiers of the 116th were supposed to change that.

There were no serious forces in place to oppose the two companies of the 1st Battalion as they raced across Virginia and then down the peninsula towards Hampton.  However, the combined base defense forces possessed roughly six hundred well-armed men and, furthermore, the base would be of little use to the Congressional Government if it was destroyed.  Certainly, the destruction of the base was preferable to it – and the F-22 fighters housed there – falling into the hands of the Bryan Administration, but that would be a sub-optimal outcome.

Furthermore, during these early days, most fighting was conducted with a profound sense of disorganization, with almost all conventional doctrines being discarded.  There wasn't time to move the whole brigade across Virginia or to organize a proper plan of attack with the correct support elements.  The result is that the Stryker vehicles of the Stonewall Brigade simply came roaring across the state and through an adjacent golf course, crashing through the fence that separated the runway from the road with the gunners on the vehicles wildly blazing away at anything that attempted to oppose them with their .50 caliber M2 machine guns.

Though no video or audio evidence exists to support such claims, survivors of the Air Force base defense forces that remained loyal to the existing Federal Government claim that, without any substantial warning, the Stryker vehicles of Company A simply crashed through the fence and laid down massive suppressive fire while dropping their rear hatches.

The base security forces were equipped with individual rifles, grenades, and even a handful of crew-served weapons.  They had done a first-rate job in dealing with the sporadic resistance of a handful of renegade pilots and ground crew members who had tried to seize control of the base with their personal weapons in the morning.  But they were no match for the overwhelming fire of two trained companies of infantry.  

One brave Air Force sergeant attempted to hold a strongpoint where a machine gun emplacement existed.  When he made the mistake of standing just a little too high and allowing his head to become visible over the concrete barrier, a trio of 5.56mm bullets fired from one of the National Guardsmen's M-16 rifles struck him squarely in the helmet, knocking him to the ground.  If the trauma of that wound was not fatal, the two rifle-launched grenades that landed in close proximity to him in the following seconds certainly were.  

Twenty-six Air Force personnel were killed in the initial assault on the perimeter of the base.  Once word of what was happening reached those personnel laying siege to a mix of rebel Air Force and National Guard personnel who were holed up in some of the base's buildings, they signaled their immediate surrender.

Stepping onto the scene a few minutes later, the commander of the 116th Brigade, not bothering to disguise the tears in his eyes, called the Governor of Virginia to tell him that the deed was done.

The Pentagon

"Langley is gone," reported a Colonel who talked into the National Military Command Centre to hand General Hall a sheet of paper.

"Take it off the list," ordered General Walker.

General Hall looked at the large display with trepidation.  Events such as those at Langley were happening across the entire world.  Fifty-two minutes earlier, the commander of the USS Abraham Lincoln had simply dumped a thousand crew members considered to be politically suspect at dockside and then sailed off after declaring for the Congressional Government.  The latest reports said that the commander of Ramstein Air Base in Germany had requested permission from the Commander of the European Command to ask for the intervention of the Bundeswehr in order to suppress what he described as a "rebel uprising" at the headquarters of the United States Air Force in Europe.  That request had been kicked up to the Secretary of Defense and, by extension, the President.  That was, of course, presuming that President Bryan was even in the physical or emotional shape to make a decision at this point in time.

"What about Seymour Johnson?" asked Hall.

Technically speaking, the U.S. Army Chief of Staff had no business issuing instructions to the Air Force, but in the midst of the chaos of the day, it seemed as though that had been forgotten.  In any case, General Hall had been, as a result of the Secretary of Defense's suspicions as to the political loyalties of the Commander of the Northern Command, been given temporary operational control over all U.S. military forces worldwide.

"They'll be in the air in a few minutes," reported Brigadier General Jamie Wainwright, the U.S. Air Force officer seconded to Hall for the duration.

"Get them here quickly.  The latest reports have the rebel force closing on Washington damned quickly."

"What's the next step?" Walker asked Hall as he bent over a map of all of the military units and installations in the continental United States.

"We need to get in touch with as many men and women who we trust as we can.  That's the broad theme here – for the most part, units are following their commanders.  That's not universal – there's definitely grumbling and we've had reports of fighting between individuals and small units all over the place – but it's the best control lever that we have.  If we can keep the leadership of the military together, than this can be sorted out politically... Somehow.  Between you and I, Martin, I think we'll need a compromise of some sort...  Perhaps a different Acting President and a special Presidential election.  Perhaps even a Constitutional convention.  I don't know.  I'm not a politician.  I just want to keep the military together."

"When those Strike Eagles tear that Cavalry squadron a new asshole, there's going to be a lot of pissed off people."

"I didn't start this," replied Hall.

Near Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, NC

A dozen F-16Cs of the 55th Fighter Squadron roared through the sky in three quadruple formations.  There had been no time for sophisticated or subtle planning.  They were simply going to go straight for the jugular.

Lieutenant Colonel Raymond Spenser watched as his aircraft made their final approach.  They'd tried to warn the people down on the ground there at Seymour Johnson to get the hell away from the runways through every means that they had.  He prayed to God that that had worked – a lot of the people on the ground down there were his friends and he bore them no ill will.  

The F-16s out of Shaw AFB had made their way into North Carolina at maximum speed, ignoring all of the frantic shouts from the civilian air traffic control system.  There had been no time to do anything more than to outfit the dozen fighters with four JDAMs each and to hope that they'd be able to disrupt runway operations.  

"Bengal 1," signaled Colonel Spenser, "you are authorized to proceed."

The first flight of F-16s dipped slightly away from the other two, making a sharp turn towards Seymour Johnson AFB's runways, where they would hope to strike a temporarily crippling blow.

The Fighting Falcons reduced their speed and dove lower in order to bring themselves within range of the base.  By the time that they defenders on the ground realized what was happening to them it was much too late and the first sixteen thousand-pound bombs had been released and were already on their way towards their targets.

"Alright," said Spenser softly to himself before speaking into the radio, "Bengal 2, good to go."

As Spenser's flight continued to circle the second group of fighters changed course and made their way towards the air base below, releasing their bomb loads with a devastating effect upon the targets below.

"Ok.  Everyone left, on me," ordered Spenser as he swung his F-16 to the right and began a sharp descent.  The Colonel and his wingmen brought their aircraft to a lower altitude and slowed so as to allow their GPS-guided cargos to land on the target.  The plane shuddered as it released one bomb after another against the runway below.  

The bombs weren't the best munitions to be used against an air base – the ideal would have been to use cluster munitions that would have disrupted flight operations until bomb disposal squads could clear the runways – but for the time being it was necessary for the 55th to make do with what they had on hand.  One bomb after another impacted the runway and the surrounding area.  In total, some forty-eight thousand pound bombs found targets on the North Carolinian ground.  

"Fuck," radioed one pilot as the squadron turned and began to make its way back to base, "I didn't see signs of flight operations on the ground.  Did you?"

"Negative," replied Spenser, "I'm not sure if we were early or late."

Fairfax, VA

The tanks and armored fighting vehicles of the Third Squadron had finally disembarked and were now making an oblique approach towards Washington itself.

"I have to admit – to you and no one else here," General Starnes told Colonel Robinette, "that I'm no longer really sure of what's going on."

He took his smartphone and waved it in the air.

"I was in the middle of the fucking desert in Iraq, commanding a tank platoon, with no communications immediately available beyond my radio and things were a whole lot clearer than they are now, with all of the Goddamned information in the world at my fingertips."

"Rumor versus truth is pretty much impossible to sort out at a time like this," agreed Robinette, "I was a brand new Lieutenant at the Pentagon on 9-11 and I remember all of the crazy things that people said were going on, almost all of them untrue."

"If we can get to the White House...  We can end this today."

"Can we?" asked Robinette.

"If we can get the government back into Constitutional hands.  Well, we can get a good start on everything that needs to be done, at the very least," said Starnes.

"I'm not so sure, General," said Robinette, "remember – the people elected the bunch that's in the White House.  They didn't know everything that they'd do, how far they'd go, or how much they'd violate the Constitution...  But they Goddamned well ought to have.  But they voted for them anyways."

"Hmmm..." said Starnes, looking at the latest location reports on his map.

"The low-information voters will still be with us tomorrow.  Truth be told, they might very well be for us tomorrow and against us the next.  But they're doing the country no favors."

A massive explosion rocked the command vehicle, sending it up several inches into the air before crashing into the Earth.

"Fuck," said Starnes quietly.

"That was fast-movers, Liberator 1," signaled Colonel Smith from his own command vehicle, "we have casualties."

Another pair of thunderous explosions rocked the vehicle as the driver sped up and attempted to evade the bombs being dropped upon the Seventh Cavalry by the flight of Strike Eagles out of Seymour Johnson.

Yankee Flight, Near Fairfax, VA

"Fox 2," called out Yankee 1 over the radio as the lead F-22 in a group of six launched by the rebel forced out of Langley loosed an AMRAAM in the direction of the Strike Eagles over Fairfax.

The first missile raced towards its target at four times the speed of sound.  As soon as the Lightnings launched their first wave of missiles, the F-15Es over Fairfax broke off their attack on the Seventh Cavalry below and began to accelerate and execute evasive maneuvers.  The rebel F-22s pressed onwards, taking advantage of the vast technical superiority of their aircraft by moving at faster than the speed of sound without using their afterburners, and fired again on the fleeing Strike Eagles.  

In just seconds, the first air-to-air engagement of the Second Civil War was over with the victory having gone decisively to the Congressional forces.  The F-15Es out of Seymour Johnson had never stood a chance against a group of fifth-generation fighters coming practically out of nowhere.  Their only hope once the F-22s had emerged was to survive somehow.  Knowing that it was impossible for them to outrun their opponents, the F-15s had sought to evade attack by moving as low as possible with the hope that a combination of low attitude and speed would allow them to slip away from the conflagration in the confusion.  

The Pentagon

"Slowed, not stopped," reported General Walker as he read the latest report to be passed up to General Hall.

"That's what they say ground the ground.  The air attack managed to get off more than a few bombs, but they were disrupted and largely destroyed in an air-to-air battle.  The reports from the ground didn't get a good visual or videos, but I'd bet that it was F-22s out of Langley," said Hall.

"Fuckers," said Walker.

"Alright," said Hall, tapping the table, "they're coming this way.  How do we stop them?"

"We've got what forces we could scrape together from Fort Myer – though there's still some fighting going on there," noted one officer.

"The 29th Division is just gone.  We think that it was the Virginia National Guard that took Langley," noted another.

Hall walked over to the board tracking the movement of troops.

"As I see it, the nearest major formation reporting itself as ready to come to our aid is the...  10th Mountain Division?  Fort Drum, New York."

"That's what we've got now," agreed General Walker, "but a lot of those other formations haven't really joined the rebel forces either.  A lot of them are just immobilized in confusion.  The only real rebel forces in the field, at the present time, appear to be part of the Third Infantry Division – the force that's moving on Washington now – and we're guessing that part of the Virginia National Guard is actively fighting as well.  Like I said, that's what we're inferring from what happened at Langley."

"How do we stop them, General?" asked one officer as Hall gazed at the board.

"Let's give them Washington," answered the General finally.

"Sir?"

"It's already been said – there aren't really organized forces here," said Hall, "there are, at the most, a few battalions in the field.  Most of our soldiers – on both sides – are busy engaged in fist-fights, stand-offs, and a few active firefights at most facilities.  For the moment, unit loyalties – such as they are – are tending to follow the commanders of any given unit.  The country is very divided.  The rebels can take Washington, but can they administer it?  They don't control any of the administrative apparatus of the Federal Government.  They can set up their own Cabinet and their own President...  But can they pay out Social Security checks next month?  Will they be able to move supplies over the roads?  They can fight today, but will they be able to do it next week?"

"What about the President and the White House?  I'm sure they'll have plenty of thoughts on this."

"We pull the fire alarm," answered Hall.  

The Situation Room, The White House

"Mr. President," said the chief of the Presidential Protective Detail, "we have to go – now."

"What?" said the President confusedly.

"The word has come down from the Pentagon, Mr. President," said the Secretary of Defense, "General Hall has raised the Armed Forces to DEFCON2, all forces worldwide.  Evacuation of the government is automatic at DEFCON2."

"Why?" mumbled President Bryan.

"The situation is very confused right now.  Our communications are disrupted somewhat by events.  It's very possible that a foreign power might be attempting to take advantage of our current situation.  Given that, it's really only prudent that we evacuate and raise the alert level of the whole Armed Forces."

"I..." began the President, before stopping to collect this thoughts.

"We still control Andrews," continued Secretary Ransom, "and Air Force One is waiting there to take you airborne, sir."

"Ok.  Alright," the President finally answered.

U.S. Capitol Grounds

By the time that the 3rd Squadron of the Seventh Cavalry arrived at the Capitol it was already almost midnight.  The ingress of the unit had been allowed to occur almost unopposed, as it would have been futile for the one major Army formation in the city – what was left of the 4th Battalion – to oppose an armored cavalry unit.  

Instead, General Starnes and the troopers of the Seventh Cavalry were left to roll towards the blood-stained steps of the Capitol as their fellow soldiers warily viewed them from a distance.  No one was eager to shoot, but everyone was prepared to do so.  From a distance of several hundred yards, the Strykers of the 4th Battalion maintained a careful watch even as they in turn were shadowed by the Cavalry unit's Abrams and Bradleys.

Outside the Capitol itself, jittery members of the Congressional Provisional Battalion kept a careful watch.  They were proud of themselves for having taken back the building from the protestors who had seized it and holding the 4th Battalion at bay, but they had paid a terrible price in so doing.  More than a few realized that they had only begun.

"What a disgrace," said Starnes as he emerged from his command vehicle and walked across the West Front of the Capitol.

"Sir?" replied Colonel Robinette.

"To think that soldiers of the United States Army would fire upon men and women defending the Constitution," the General shook his head.

"I agree, General," said Robinette quietly.

"But," he gestured in the direction of the Strykers nearby, "in the days ahead, we would do well to remember that surely they will think the same of us."

The Capitol

"The latest reports say that they're evacuating the government," explained Secretary Preston, "the Pentagon called a nuclear alert and sent everyone off at a run."

"Mr. President," continued the Secretary, "I think that we have to consider our own situation here."

"How so?" asked Theresa Rowan, "haven't we won Washington, if they're leaving?"

"We don't have a lot of forces actually on hand," explained the Secretary, "the 3-7 Cavalry was pretty battered by that air strike.  We have some elements of the Virginia National Guard on our side...  A few air bases.  Some of the Navy reporting to us.  Elsewhere in the country we have the Mississippi, Georgia, Utah, Idaho...  Well, we have a lot of Governors mobilizing their National Guardsmen and reporting in to us.  Pretty much anywhere that's voted for the GOP reliability since the Bush era.  We don't have reliable communications, though.  And we don't have any natural base of supplies or support here.  We could have the 7th Cavalry push through to here, to be sure, and the 116th Brigade is down at Langley and largely intact...  But that's not an awful lot of force.  And the logistics are a nightmare."

"What are you suggesting, Mark?" the Acting President finally asked.

"I think that we need to move to a secure location.  One that we can defend.  One where the population is relatively friendly to us.  One where we can be in communication with the rest of the armed forces and start to figure out what, if any elements of the existing Federal Government will recognize our authority.  Where we can start coordinating with the states and getting into position to organize an offensive that will allow us to assume control of the whole country."

"We concede a lot, image-wise, if we give up on Washington," said Rickover.

"Where would we go?" asked Mark Nelson.

"Well, most Federal emergency facilities exist in this immediate area...  We don't control any of them for the moment.  Raven Rock is probably out.  I suppose we could take and probably hold Camp David – easier without the urban population.  But I think we need to look elsewhere."

"A state capital?" ventured Rowan, "somewhere friendly, but with access to the media?  Salt Lake City?  Topeka?  Somewhere like that?"

"How about Cheyenne Mountain?" asked Rickover, looking at the map of areas and facilities responding to the orders of the Congressional Government.

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

General Dylan Mackenzie had been watching the events back in Washington via every possible channel.  He'd spent the last six hours in his office, with staff shuffling in and out, using a computer, two tablets, and a television set to try and keep up to date and it still wasn't enough.  Events were simply moving too fast and were now beyond the ability of any one person to fully keep up.  The General was moving between websites when a knock came on the door.

"Come in," Mackenzie gruffly said.  The door opened and Augustus King gently walked through, closed it, and took a seat.

"Good," said Mackenzie without looking up, "I was going to call you shortly.  I think we're going to have to move up the date for Deluge so that we can get home to deal with this mess."

"I understand why you want to move immediately – believe me I do," replied King, "but we have to be patient.  Planning and organization takes time."

"Patient!" Mackenzie exploded, looking up and swinging his arm in the direction of the television, "have you seen what the fuck is going on?"

"Yes," hissed King, "and I want to end it as much as you do.  But you have to remember that it profits us not at all to recover what we can in America only to have the world collapse."

CHAPTER SIX

Reactions

Beijing, People's Republic of China

"What the fuck are the Americans doing?" asked President Sun Lei of the People's Republic of China as he and the rest of the Central Military Commission reviewed the latest news from the United States.

"Sporadic fighting continues all across the country – and in some other parts of the world as well," reported General Wang Liguo of the People's Liberation Army, "there was some fighting this very day reported by our sources at the American base on Guam.  Apparently a group attempted to take control of the forces there in the name of the Bryan Government."

"That's uncomfortably close to our part of the world," noted Gao Weiman, the Foreign Minister, who had been invited to the meeting as a guest.

"The economic news in this is bad enough," said the President, "I wanted to call all of you together to talk about the military implications."

"The economic implications touch upon the military ones as well," pointed out General Liguo, "we can hardly ignore the military questions raised by the onset of a global economic depression."

"True enough," agreed the President. "How does this change the military balance in the region, though?"

"In the region?  Well, we have these orphaned American forces.  It seems like most of the American Navy – at least at sea – has signaled its support for the Cheyenne Government, but its capabilities are going to be very limited in the future because they don't have a strong logistical base, or control of any major Pacific ports.  Those are all in the hands of the Eastern Government.  I have no idea what the forces – for example in Guam – would do in the event of turbulence here right now.  If I had to guess, I think that they'd be headed for home.

"The Japanese and South Koreans are both getting very jumpy.  The Japanese had to close the Nikkei in the wake of what happened to Wall Street.  They don't have a lot of money to spend to re-arm right now, but they're scared of us.  Same with the South Koreans, but to a lesser degree.  I would expect both of them to deploy nuclear weapons in the very near future.  That's the best value they can get for their money, at least defense-wise."

"Gentlemen," said the President, "I challenge you to think beyond the conventional here.  These events in the United States are practically world-destroying in their implications.  If the current economic collapse is allowed to continue, China will by no means by immune.  In fact, these events don't merely threaten the future of the American government – they are a direct threat to the future of the People's Republic of China.

"These are world-reconfiguring times.  Think big.  Think global.  Consider our ability to deploy and support expeditionary forces in places where this American collapse is going to create an intolerable vacuum, or where China's interests may somehow otherwise be threatened."

Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

"Again, Herr Chancellor," began Walter Quaker, the United States Ambassador to Germany, "thank you for your prompt and thorough refusal to recognize the so-called Ambassador sent to you by the rebel government."

"Your country stood by us during the many years when Germany was divided," explained the Chancellor, "and Germany will stand by you during your time of troubles."

"That's what I asked for this meeting to talk about," explained Ambassador Quaker. "Our government has come to the conclusion that we will require a great deal of additional help, especially from Germany and other forward-thinking nations, if not only America, but in fact the world, is to come through this disaster in reasonable shape."

"What do you mean?" asked the Chancellor, with an edge of suspicion to his voice.

"The forces who have risen up against the government of the United States are very extreme, Herr Chancellor.  You have dealt with their ilk in your own country before and the world – including my country – paid a terrible price for it."

"I don't think that they are quite so objectionable as that," said the Chancellor with a slight chuckle.

"Do you, Herr Chancellor?  Consider that the victory of the rebel forces would leave them in total control of the government and consider the true objectives of the rebels.  They would remake our Constitution to undo anything that resembles true democracy so as to leave themselves – and the wealthiest among them – in permanent control of the government.  They have absolutely zero respect for the environment or anything resembling a reasonable social conscience.  What would they do?  They would drive economic growth above all other things.  They would produce limitless energy – from fossil fuels and nuclear reactors and other such dangerous things.  They would allow corporations to gather unlimited wealth.  And once they did these things – once they had complete control of our government and the ability to generate massive wealth without any need to have a regard for progressive values or the common people – what do you think that they would do next?  Remember what our government did when it was only partially under the control of these people – under Reagan and Bush?  What sort of aggressive wars would they wage then, with what fearful consequences?  Do you think that people who turned their guns on their own people to resist a tax increase will have any compunction about killing millions – even tens of millions – of foreigners when they see gain for themselves?"

"What exactly is it that your government is seeking?"

"The U.S. Armed Forces have always been a reactionary institution.  The majority of the military – not all of it, but a majority – has sided with the rebel government.  However, for the moment they are very disorganized and not effectively capable of mounting a true campaign of resistance.  Hence their withdrawal from the Washington area and other areas that they initially seized.  We control almost all major urban centers and ports but, if given time, we are unsure as to whether we will be able to overcome the rebels on our own.  A show of force by the elements of the armed forces that we do control, in cooperation with the military forces of our allies, would be enough to defeat the rebels and restore order.  In fact, the defeat and discrediting of the rebels would likely be enough to give birth to a new and more progressive world order..."

The Chancellor waved his hand.

"Let me see if I have this: you want Germany – and presumably the rest of NATO – to deploy military forces to the United States to help you fight other Americans?"

"Yes, Herr Chancellor.  We believe that we are within our rights to make such a request under Article V of the North Atlantic Treaty."

"You are quite mad," said the Chancellor, "surely you are aware, as well as I am, that the North Atlantic Treaty is meant to deal with conflicts of an international nature."

"I believe that different lawyers will have different interpretations..."

"And why is the President not the one making this request?  We have heard precious little from him in recent weeks."

"As you might imagine, the President is very busy and under extraordinary pressures at the moment, Herr Chancellor."

The Old Executive Office Building, Washington, DC

"Is he doing any better today?" asked Senator Dawson as soon as Jamal Anderson stepped into the Old Executive Office Building conference room that she and the other senior members of the Federal Government loyal to the Bryan Administration had commandeered as soon as the District of Columbia had fallen back under the control of the Federal Government.

"I got him to sign some papers, but he wasn't feeling very talkative," replied the White House Chief of Staff.

"Including the letter to the Chancellor?" asked Secretary Ransom.

"Yes.  And the ones to the French President and the British Prime Minister as well," noted Anderson.

"I still think that he's going to have to talk to them before they lift a finger...  At an absolute minimum," said Dawson.

"They'll come in," said the Secretary of State soothingly, running his hands through his white hair, "because they know what this will mean for the whole of the world if we lose."

"Alright," said Secretary Ransom, who had assumed the informal chairmanship of the little group that quietly met outside of the view of the President, "what else have we got?"

"There's been some fighting in Michigan," said Lieutenant General Myles Tucker, bringing up the latest map of political and military developments.

"The government of the State of Michigan, of course, has thrown in with the rebel government – but they don't have the support of a large percentage of the population.  Detroit, like most urban areas is a real problem centre.  Especially with the breakdown of most Federal aid programs.  The City of Detroit claims to have seceded from the State of Michigan and it seems as though, for the time being, the State of Michigan is happy enough to take them at their word.  This morning a militia out of Detroit tried to attack a suburban grocery store.  The Michigan National Guard fought back.  It's pretty ugly.  At least fifty dead reported."

"Fifty?  That's pretty high," commented Dawson.

"It was a determined attack.  Apparently a number of the street gangs of Detroit have formed a confederation of some sort.  They wanted to descend upon this complex – a Sam's Club and some other stuff – and loot the whole thing.  The Michigan troops had to use tanks to break off their assault."

"Thirty seconds on the evening news," noted Anderson bitterly.

"Race riot in Chicago too.  Unrelated to the Detroit business.  Chicago is, like most major cities, trying to pay their employees with scrip...  So are the smaller cities elsewhere in Illinois, but their scrip is worth more.  Springfield wants to step in and issue state-based promissory notes and there were protests that got out of hand.  Chicago Police have it handled, through."

"We may have a situation developing in California, as well.  The farmers in the interior don't want to sell their produce for either state notes or for dollars – they want to ship it overseas.  The state wants to commandeer it.  The rebels might even deploy some troops into eastern California in order to back them."

"Anything positive at all?" asked Ransom with a sigh.

"No," said General Tucker flatly.

"How long can this go on for?" asked an exacerbated Senator Dawson.

"I realize that was a rhetorical question," answered Anderson, "but I've had some people from the Agriculture Department and the Commerce Department run the numbers.  In the cities, without some external aid, there will be starvation on a large-scale by early in the new year."

"Fuck," said Dawson.

"That's why the European solution is the only option left to us," emphasized the Secretary of State, "find out what the French and Germans want, and pay it, Goddamnit."

"I still don't know," said Ransom, "I realize – better than any of you – that the armed forces are badly fractured and disorganized, but a majority have joined the rebels.  They will be able to mount a formidable military defense."

"Well, what else do you want to do?" asked the Secretary, letting out a great puff of air as he raised his voice.

"I think that we have to consider negotiations of some sort," said the Secretary of Defense.

"Not this shit again!" replied the Secretary of State, "do you really want us to accept the so-called Seattle Declaration?  What would that mean for the future of this country?"

"The alternative..." said Ransom, "there are more than two thousand people dead already."

"The alternative is handing the country over to Nazis, or at least negotiating with them," said the Secretary of State stiffly.

The Kremlin, Moscow

William Quaker checked his watch as he was ushered into the Kremlin complex.  The Ambassador to Germany had been asked to follow up upon his earlier successes by travelling to Russia to enlist the aid of the government of the Russian Federation.  In so doing, he had been given just two hours notice of the time of his departure.

"Please, have a seat Ambassador," said the pretty blonde aide who spoke perfect English who had ushered Quaker into a lushly-appointed room.

The Ambassador sat for nearly fifteen minutes.  With his cellular reception blocked (not that he would have trusted that his transmissions would not be monitored), he had little to do but to examine the plush red-accentuated decorative scheme of the room.  

How many times, he wondered, has history turned over here?

The Ambassador was checking his watch once again when the main double doors were opened and in strode the President of Russia.  Quaker leapt to his feet.

"No ceremony, Ambassador," said the Russian President in English as he extended his hand, "we're all friends here."

"Mr. President," said Quaker, quickly recovering his composure, "I hadn't expected to meet with you..."

"No, I suppose not," said the President, "but I read the briefing notes and, in the absence of my ability to communicate directly with your President, I decided to choose the method that would allow for the clearest communication possible."

"Of course, Mr. President," said Quaker, taking his seat as the President did the same.

"Russia," said the President, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully, "has a strong interest in ensuring the security of the world and its allies, consistent with the interests of Russia herself..."

Vancouver, British Columbia, United Western Republic

William Thomas Jackson had initially been slightly disappointed at the results of the first post-war General Election held by the newly formed United Western Republic.  He and his Liberty Party had obtained 26.4% of the vote and just 22% of the seats in the new unicameral House of Commons.  That made them the second-largest overall party, behind the governing Conservatives and the broad coalition of discordant left-wing parties that made up the rest of Parliament.  

However, his refusal of a position in the Cabinet – originally a mere act of petulance – had put him in a position of strength as events to the south had spiralled out-of-control.  Polls showed that a majority of the people in the Western Republic was opposed to military intervention in the emerging Second American Civil War, but the majority of Jackson's Liberty Party caucus and many Conservative back-benchers were in favor.  Working from the back-benches himself, and with more than a little bit of money funneled from the coffers of Praetorian, Jackson had begun to work a little bit of magic.

"This is suicidal," fumed the Prime Minister as he glared at Jackson across his desk, "this is a simple tax measure and a necessary one."

"Nevertheless, Prime Minister," explained Jackson, "given the current strained relations between our parties, I feel that he majority of my own caucus – including myself – will be compelled to vote against it.  As will a number of the members of your own caucus."

"Damn you," said the Prime Minister, "you've seen the polls.  If we have an election today, the strength of the left would be doubled or more.  They could even take power – and so soon after the war.  And they are committed to undoing all of the things that were achieved by the war.  Do you really want that?"

"Indeed I do not."

"Then what exactly do you want?" asked the Prime Minister, stabbing his finger in Jackson's direction.

"You know exactly what I want, Prime Minister," replied Jackson.

"Intervention?  Well, you know my thoughts on it...  But it just isn't feasible, Bill."

"Actually, there is a possible compromise on that," explained Jackson, "don't actively intervene – at least not for now.  Instead, I want you to offer an early honorable discharge to the whole of the 1st Armored Division and to make a gift of its equipment to a private volunteer force.  You could spin it as returning the favor that we were granted during the war."

"That wouldn't be very popular, either.  And it would be seen right through."

"Perhaps," said Jackson, "but – without such a compromise – I'm afraid that we'd be forced to take an absolute and principled stand on this tax issue.  On the other hand, if I were forced to resign my seat in the Parliament to devote myself full-time to a private venture, I imagine that my successors would prove to be less passionate and stubborn on this particular point."

"You want to take the largest part of our army and go where?  Colorado?"

"Yes, Prime Minister."

Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center, VA

While most of the rest of the civilian government had hastened back to Washington in the aftermath of what was now known as the "Great Mutiny," President Kevin Bryan had remained at the special facility at Mount Weather.  The reasons for this varied depending on whom one asked.  Allegedly the primary reason was the elevated risk that there would be an attempt on the life of the President – hardly an unreasonable fear, given recent events.  From his secure base at Mount Weather, the President had appeared on television a number of times and seemed wholly normal.  However, darker and unstoppable rumors constantly circulated that the President had suffered a mental collapse and was being hidden away from the public while a small circle of other officials really ran the county.

The truth, reflected Jamal Anderson as he stood and waited for the elevator to take him deep underground, was somewhere in-between.  President Bryan remained in overall control of the government, but he was withdrawn, morose, and often unresponsive to requests and information.  It was as if the realization that a significant portion of the nation was not only against him, but so against him that it was willing to resist him with force, had broken something within the man.

"Mr. President," began Anderson as he walked to the reclining chair in the Mount Weather apartment where Bryan often spent much of the day, "we've made good progress with the Europeans.  They want to help us.  But they have conditions."

"Hmmm..." murmured the President, taking up a sheaf of papers that Anderson presented him and beginning to read through them.

"They're open to an invocation of Article V.  But they want economic inducements."

"Well," said Bryan quietly, "we expected that much."

"Yes, Mr. President.  But they're also extremely concerned about CENTCOM."

"Why?  They've behaved so far."

"Yes, Mr. President, they have.  But they've done so, for lack of a better term, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.  And both the Europeans – and the part of the intel community here that's still functional – shows that the command over there has very close ties to the rebels.  Frankly, they're scared shitless that they'll be sending a major portion of their army here to North America – it's worth recalling that the European defense establishment is very small these days – while leaving several hundred thousand hostile soldiers in their rear.  If General Mackenzie turns out, as seems far from implausible, to fancy himself another Caesar then he might very well move out from Jerusalem and the surrounding area and march on Paris or Berlin or, perhaps, even both."

"What would they have us do?" asked the President.

"They want us to make use of the Russian option," said Anderson quietly.

"They want us to abet an attack upon elements of the military on an overseas mission by a foreign nation?" asked Bryan incredulously.

"They certainly want assurances, if they're going to embark upon this crusade to ensure that radical right-wingers don't take over the United States, that a radical right-wing army won't be left at the ready to attack them."

"Well..." said the President thoughtfully, "we've have to make sure that our fingerprints weren't on the thing."

Riyadh, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia

Augustus King had quietly made his way from Jerusalem to the Saudi capital for an emergency meeting with Prince Sultan bin Salman Al Saud, the Minister responsible for the Royal Saudi Air Force and fourth in line for the throne.

"Thank you for seeing me, old friend," began King as he sipped his cup of tea.

"Of course," said the Prince.

"You know," said King, "I've always found the story of your country genuinely astonishing.  Ibn Saud was practically born in a barren desert just eleven years after Appomattox.  His first battles were raids against other tribes probably not that different in character than those fought in the days of the Prophet Mohammed.  When he died, seven years after Hiroshima, he had laid the foundations of a modern nation.  How many men are there in the world of which such may be said?"

"Not many," conceded Prince Sultan.

"And he did it – and his successors have maintained his legacy – by always playing a long game and being smart about it."

"Indeed."

"Your country has been a friend of America for many years," stated King.

"We have.  But the situation as it stands now is extremely confusing," said the Prince.

"Not if you look closely at it," said King, "Americans love liberty.  That's not true of every single citizen, to be sure.  But it is true of the population as a whole.  And it is true of the smart and capable people in America.  They're the kind of people who win wars.  The sort of people who went to the Moon.  The people who created the automobile, the plane, and the internet.  And those are going to be the people who are going to win."

"I don't know, my friend," said Prince Sultan, "there are a lot of people around the world and in this country who think that your time has passed."

"Perhaps," said King, taking a sip of his tea, "but there were a lot of people who thought that Ibn Saud was a dangerous fool.  But we both know that among the many things he was, he was never that."

"What you have to understand," said King, standing and buttoning his jacket, "is that the Americans who love liberty are going to win.  And, when they win, there are going to be scores that will be settled.  The America that will emerge from the other side of this war will be a different country.  It will be stronger, tougher, and better.  It will be a place less-prone to foolish sentimentality and ruled by hard men who know who their friends and who their enemies are and who will treat each accordingly."

Temporary Seat of the United States Government, Cheyenne Mountain, CO

"Mr. President," began Deputy Secretary of Defense Shawna Williams as she called up the first slides for the daily briefing, "our technical assets have confirmed that at least three divisions of European soldiers – a French armored division, a German armored division, and a mixed trans-European unit anchored by a British mechanized infantry brigade and under the command of a British General – has left European ports and is on its way to North America."

"Three divisions in total?" asked Rickover, looking up from his tablet.

"That's it for the time being," answered the Deputy Secretary.

"Could we stop them from coming ashore?" asked the Acting President.

"I don't know.  What intel we have says that there's a pretty powerful escort around the convoy.  Four Carriers of various sizes – British, French, Spanish, and Italian.  A lot of destroyers.  The smattering of Strategic Command assets that were not destroyed during the Great Mutiny wouldn't be enough to launch a serious air strike, and the shorter-range assets that we have wouldn't be able to strike until they get close to land and, by all accounts, the government has a lot of surface-to-air missies deployed these days.  An approach by sea is more promising, but challenging."

"What we have we got at sea?"

"In the Atlantic?  Not much.  The Carriers there were trapped in port and, although they don't have the sailors to put them to sea, they ended up in the hands of the Bryan Regime.  Some submarines and a handful of surface ships, but those have had to retreat to the ports that we do control deeper in the South.  Two Burke-class destroyers and the Zumwalt down at Charleston.  We have more assets in the Pacific – most the Pacific Fleet came over to our side – but we've lost the majority of the shore facilities.  In fact, that's becoming a major problem that I'll have to circle back to.  The rest of the Navy is under the control of Mackenzie and the Central Command, with whatever's going on there."

"We do have submarines, through," pointed out Rickover.

"Yes, Mr. President, we certainly do," agreed Mark Preston, "but they have a pretty effective anti-submarine screen based upon the intelligence that we do have.  Assuming that the Europeans are going to come into this thing – and I think that they are – I think that there's a pretty solid case to be made that the best play to be made is to let them engage in the first overtly hostile acts."

"And sailing soldiers to American soil isn't a hostile act?"

"Well, nominally they're going to Halifax.  Supposedly as part of a large-scale exercise to train the new Canadian Army."

"Bullshit," said Rickover.

"Certainly so, but they probably are going to Halifax – both to provide cover and because it's a shorter crossing.  They've move by land and rail from there.  If we strike before they actually commence hostilities, they'll use it as a pretext for their efforts against us."

"They'll come for us," predicted Michael Nelson confidently.

"Well, obviously," said Preston, "that's why we need to be prepared.  But we have to consider the wider implications of it."

"Such as?"

"Well, Mr. President," the Secretary of State, a former Missouri Senator named Jon Simpson stepped in, "the European public is hardly in favor of going to war here in the United States.  And major – and growing – elements are in sympathy with our cause.  If we torpedo their ships on the high seas, then even the most rabidly anti-European politicians in France and Germany are going to bay for our blood."

"What's happening with AMARG?" asked the Acting President, conceding the point and changing the subject.

"The facility fell into our hands without a fight," answered the Secretary of Defense, "and most of the personnel were willing to volunteer for the Air Force for the duration.  We've begun to move materiel out of Arizona to what bases we have."

"Well, good," replied Rickover, "we'll have that at least.  That'll be a hell of a fucking surprise."

"We have a more urgent matter," noted Preston, "our fleet in the Pacific is running seriously low on supplies and needs maintenance.  Most of the Navy will and the only major port facilities in our hands are in the South – within range of the government's air assets in the northern states."

"Well," said the Acting President, "we've talked about the Hawaiian solution before."

"We have," agreed Secretary Preston, "and, I must say, I think that it's now the only viable road."

"And I have to renew my objection," said Secretary Simpson, "I think that making the first overt act is a grave mistake – as much of one as it would be in the case of trying to sink the European fleet in the Atlantic."

"It's a very different situation, Jon," said Rickover, "in one case we are talking about initiating hostilities against a foreign power.  In this case we are simply talking about using force to gain access to ports and facilities that, after all, we claim by right to be our own."

"If we make the first large-scale military move since the end of the Great Mutiny, we'll shatter whatever peace remains," insisted the Secretary of State, "and give Bryan and the rest a pretext to move."

"They're going to move anyways," insisted Rickover, "and there's perhaps a hidden benefit."

"What's that?" asked Simpson.

"We'll show them – the loyalists and all foreign nations – that we are willing to kill," said the Acting President.

Western States' Conference, Helena, MT

Governor Mitchell Randall had managed, under the protection of elements of the Washington, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, and Utah National Guard, to gather together officials from a dozen Western states in order to discuss a political solution to developing Second Civil War.  

"The problem is insoluble," explained, Robert Baron, the former Attorney General of California, "because too many of the voters are dependent upon the government.  They will vote for whoever pays them and we call it democracy.  Even if, in truth, it is no more democratic than the legions of Rome proclaiming whatever functionary promised them the most gold as the new Emperor."

"Let's not be too pessimistic," said the Governor of Utah.

"You're free to take that attitude, at least for a while," said the Californian, "because you come from Utah.  But I've seen it happen to my own state.  California went from golden to bankrupt both economically and morally in a generation.  In my own lifetime.  I can see the process playing out nationally."

"The American people have always come around to their senses in the end," sniffed the Utah Governor.

"The American people, yes, the American people," repeated the Californian reflectively, "but what if the people – or a majority of them at any rate – are no longer American in any real sense of the word?"

"Let's not get into that today," interjected the Lieutenant Governor of Wyoming.

"No," said Baron, "let's not get into immigration or any of that business.  I mean in a deeper sense.  If you don't know when the first Civil War was fought or who led the Revolution and why, are you really an American in any meaningful sense of the word?  The New Left, when they set out on their Long March through the institutions began an Orwellian process by which they not only used the schools as a means of propagandizing the youth of America, but they actually erased most of our history, at least insofar as a significant percentage of the population is concerned."

"If you don't know – to borrow from Ronald Reagan – who Jimmy Doolittle was or what those thirty seconds over Tokyo were about, then are you really an American in any meaningful sense of the word?  I wonder."

"That's a fair point," said Randall, "but I'm not sure how that gets us out of this crisis."

"The problem with Constitutionalists in recent elections is that they've been preaching a creed that the people don't understand.  The great rabble isn't prepared to govern itself.  A self-governing people must, by definition, be a self-supporting one.  If it is not, then elections merely become contests between rival mobs over whose homes are to be burned and pillaged.  That's not liberty and it's not even democracy as any reasonable person would define it," said Baron.

"What would you like to do?" asked the Governor of Idaho, intrigued.

"We need to limit the franchise," argued Baron, "to those qualified to exercise it.  I don't have a comprehensive list but, at a minimum, I would argue that someone who is going to be qualified to make decisions about our government has to understand the basics of how the government functions and why, as well as our history as a nation.  They also must be, in some fashion, net contributors to society as a whole.  Leeches are always going to vote for more blood for themselves."

"That'd be awfully damned controversial, Bob," said Randall.

"I think that, once we're shooting at one another, the time for niceties has passed, Mitch," replied Baron.

USS George H.W. Bush, Near Hawaii

From the Combat Information Center of the USS George H.W. Bush, Vice Admiral Neil Tompkins watched as the ships of the Seventh Fleet made this final approach towards Hawaii and the great prize that was Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam.  During the Great Mutiny, the senior officers of the Pacific Command had stayed with the Bryan Administration while most of the operational forces had ultimately decided to throw in their lot with Cheyenne Mountain and the rebel government based there.  Some of the military forces within Hawaii had attempted to stage local uprisings, but the combination of the forces loyal to Pacific Command with certain elements of the Hawaii National Guard as well as local and Federal law enforcement had been enough to keep both Hawaii and the vital military facilities there in the hands of the Washington government.  Now, with most of the major bases used by the United States Navy in the hands of the loyalists, the time had come for the matter to be forced.

While the majority of the Navy's active combat power had, at the outbreak of the Great Mutiny, remained under the control of the Central Command, the USS Bush and the USS Gerald R Ford Carrier Strike Groups had both been at sea in the Pacific, in the middle of transition from the Bush to the Ford as the forward-deployed Carrier in the Pacific.  In the end, both Carrier Strike Groups had chosen to side with Cheyenne Mountain.

For the first month, the two Carriers had remained close to the Navy's facility at Yokosuka, which had adequate supplies to support both flotillas.  However, eventually, the Japanese government had decided to declare itself neutral in the dispute between rival American governments and therefore had given the American military forces stationed on Japanese soil three choices: depart Japanese territory immediately, agree to serve under Japanese command in support of the existing treaty obligations of the United States until such a time as the political situation in America was clarified, or agree to disarm and be interned for the duration of the American conflict.  The overwhelming majority of American forces in the Far East opted for the first choice.

However, once they were cut off from their Japanese bases, the Seventh Fleet and the rest of the rebel forces in Asia and the distant reaches of the Pacific faced an immediate crisis: they had nowhere obvious to go.  All of the West Coast states were either loyal to the Bryan Administration or heavily disputed.  Governor Randall and the Washington State government had recognized the Cheyenne Government, but they had been forced to retreat into Eastern Washington as a result of the actions of the Federal Government, with Seattle itself occupied (in a largely friendly fashion) by Federal forces.  

Both Carriers had managed to fill themselves, with a little bit of shuffling, with two complete air wings.  Now, as the fleet made its final approach to Hawaii, Admiral Tompkins prayed that he wouldn't have to make use of them.

The Pentagon

General Richard Hall watched as a pair of stealthy UAVs beamed images of the Seventh Fleet to the Pentagon in real time.  Over the preceding months, the General – now named as the Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff – had managed to consolidate control over all of the Loyalist military forces.  He had done this largely by appealing to the personal loyalties of men to their service and to the chain of command while working hard at every turn to avoid any direct confrontation between Loyalist and Rebel forces that would push those loyalties a little too hard.  Now, however, with the Seventh Fleet approaching Hawaii, it seemed as through he would have little choice but to test the limits of the military forces at the disposal of the Bryan Administration.

"We don't have anything that can stand up to two Carrier strike groups – and we have to assume that the Marine Expeditionary Force that pulled out of Okinawa is somewhere with them too," said Admiral Angelo Myers, the Commander of the Pacific Command over a shaky video connection from Honolulu.

"We always recognized that this was a possibility, Admiral," said Hall, "we'll just have to make do with what we have."

USS George H.W. Bush, Near Hawaii

As the Seventh Fleet approached the edge of where they would first be vulnerable to air attacked from land-based aircraft in Hawaii, Admiral Tompkins picked up a satellite phone and dialled the main switchboard at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam.  

"This is Vice Admiral Neil A. Tompkins, United States Seventh Fleet, Commanding," he said, "please put me through to whoever is in command."

"One moment," said the operator crisply, followed by a click on the line.

"This is Admiral Angelo Myers, Commander of the Pacific Command," said a voice on the other end.

"Admiral Myers, as you are certainly already aware, the Seventh Fleet is on final approach to Oahu.  We have two complete air groups, seventeen surface ships, and a Marine Expeditionary Force.  The facilities you control are the property of the government of the United States.  Per the orders of the President of the United States, I demand that you immediately relinquish your command to such a party as I may designate and permit the forces under my command to take control of all shore facilities."

"Admiral Tompkins," replied Myers, "you and the forces under your command are in violation of numerous articles of the Uniform Code of Military Justice.  On behalf of the President of the United States, I order you to halt at your present location until such a time as the ships of the Seventh Fleet may be restored to the control of the proper Constitutional authorities."

"If you do not obey the instructions of the President," insisted Tompkins, "then we will seize your facility by force."

"If you attempt to do so, Admiral," answered Myers, "we will resist."

The call was abruptly disconnected.

With a weary sigh, his shoulders slumped, Admiral Tompkins turned to the Bush's Commander, Air Group.

"You may commence the attack," he ordered.

Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam

Admiral Myers looked down at the silent phone with a sense of disbelief.  He had served in the United States Navy for some thirty-seven years, ever since the day when, as barely more than a boy, he had sworn his oath at Annapolis.  In all the years between that day and that on which he had earned his fourth star, he had never considered the possibility that this day would come.  In the days since he had earned that star, he had rarely had occasion to consider much else.

"My orders are to attack," he told the tall Air Force Brigadier General who was standing at his side.  The man nodded and hastily exited the room.

19th Fighter Squadron, Near Oahu

The twenty-six pilots who flew the F-22s of the re-enforced 19th Fighter Squadron flew in silence.  Of the four armed services, the Air Force had been the one that the Bryan Administration had been able to hold on to the largest portion of.  This was not because Air Force personnel were in any sense politically different than those of the rest of the military, but rather because it was simpler to reconstitute a fighter squadron with a patchwork of personnel from different units or drawn from civilian life than it was to put together an infantry division.  Fewer than half of the 19th's current pilots had been active-duty members of the Air Force prior to the Great Mutiny.  Many of them were handpicked volunteers who had re-joined the military with the specific purpose of putting down the rebellion.  The same was true of the ground crews who serviced the aircraft.  Further, it had been easier to find volunteers for Hawaii than it had for other duty stations, both because of the general desirability of Hawaii as a location in which to live and because it was widely recognized that it was likely to be the site of an early clash.

Flying at more than the speed of sound, the F-22s were the great hope of the Bryan Administration for holding Hawaii against a rebel attack.  Though the fighters were greatly outnumbered by the two Carrier Air Wings sitting offshore, it was believed that their stealthiness might allow them to penetrate the Navy's defenses and do enough damage to the amphibious ships carrier the 3rd Marine Expeditionary Force to prevent a landing by the rebel forces.

In order to maximize their stealthiness, all of the ordinance carried by the fighters was behind held internally.  As a result, each was limited to carrying some eight Small Diameter Bombs with a JDAM guidance kit.  Still, this meant that the combined strike carried some 52,000 pounds of precision-directed high explosive power.  

Information on their primary target was being fed to them in real-time by a Gray Eagle drone.  The USS Iwo Jima was a Wasp-class amphibious assault ship that would throw the primary Marine contingent ashore on Oahu.  If the Iwo Jima and her compatriots were to be placed out of action, effecting a landing – even against the weak land forces that the government had in Hawaii – would prove to be impossible.  Therefore Admiral Myers had ordered that she was to be the primary target of the first wave of the attack.

The Air Force's fighters had to move fast because, even with their magnificent stealth capabilities, they were far from completely undetectable.  Even if the powerful SPY-1 radars of the Seventh Fleet were unable to zero in on the incoming strike, the fighters themselves were visible to the naked eye as well, at times, to both Infrared and electronic surveillance.  Old-fashioned visual patrols, especially when combined with human intelligence on the ground, were enough to give the defenders of the fleet a fighting chance.

Some thirty-two F-35Cs off of the Bush and Ford were maintaining the forward Combat Air Patrol for the ships of the Seventh Fleet.  Behind them an additional forty F/A-18E SuperHornets were on standby, armed with mixed weapons loads useful for either air-to-air or air-to-ground missions.  

The Lightning fighters from CVW-8 and CVW-5 were, combined with forward-deployed surface combatants, engaged in intensive visual surveillance, with the fighters operating in pairs.  Thanks to rebel sympathizers at Hickam Field, the Navy knew when the strike package had taken off and its rough flight path.  The controllers onboard the two E-2C Hawkeye aircraft that were providing airborne early warning support for the fleet worked carefully to guide their charges along the projected paths of the attackers.

At shortly after 4PM, the first of the incoming Raptors was visually sighted by the operator of a drone flying off of the Ford.  A convoluted dance now began, as the F-22s attempted to use their superior speed to prevent an intercept by the Lightnings and SuperHornets, both of which were capable of lower sustained speeds than the attackers.  

Two of the incoming Raptors broke away from the main body of the attacking force, changing their course to make an angular approach towards both the of the Hawkeyes providing AEW coverage for the fleet.  The AMRAAMs that both sides were carrying were, of course, quite useless against aircraft with advanced stealth features, but they would be more than effective against a giant radar truck like the prop-driven Hawkeye.  As the Raptors made their approach, the pilots of both AEW aircraft were forced to abandon their positions and begin urgent evasive manoeuvres, requiring in the process that controller duties be handed over to sailors onboard a pair of AEGIS-equipped ships operating on the waves below.

USS Paul Ignatius (DDG-117)

As the fight between the loyalist attackers and rebel defenders continued in the air, Admiral Tompkins ordered the Paul Ignatius and the The Sullivans, both Burke-class guided missile Destroyers to make a high-speed dash to the east, in order to ensure that they were clear of the majority of the melee above.  

Commander Farrah Jacobson had been in command of the Paul Ignatius for less than four months when events in Washington had precipitated the Great Mutiny.  Like the overwhelming majority of the sailors in the Navy, she had never even considered the possibility that she would be asked to use her training to fight fellow Americans.  And, like a majority of the Navy, when the time had come to choose between liberty and despotism, it had not taken her more than a second to figure out which side she wanted to be on.  

There are many people who can arguably claim to have fired the "first shots" of the Second Civil War.  Some people give the dubious honor to Mark Varro, just as you could argue that it was John Brown's gun that began the First Civil War or that of Gavrilo Princip which began the Great War.  Others argue that the first shots of the war were fired on the steps of the Capitol, when the Army attempted to take on the Congressional Provisional Battalion or perhaps later still during the confused attempts of both sides during the Great Mutiny to take control in Washington, DC.  Tens of thousands more shots were fired during the Great Mutiny as the struggle for control that had overtaken Washington overtook the military in a deadlier form.  

Yet, there is a strong case to be made that it was Farrah Jacobson of Lincoln, Nebraska – a pretty thirty-six-year-old brunette woman with a cat and a degree in electrical engineering from MIT – who fired the true first shots of the war.  All of the shots fired prior to that point, it can be argued, were disorganized and inchoate – decisions of a moment or required by the impossibility of continued co-existence.  

At 4:17PM the Paul Ignatius and the The Sullivans began to fire some sixty Tomahawk Cruise Missiles at Hickam Field with the objective of disrupting flight operations there.  In firing these shots, Jacobson would later record, she felt a curious sense of relief.

"It was," she would write, "a strange feeling.  I think that I had always known that it would come to this and it felt good to finally have the thing underway."

USS George H.W. Bush, Near Hawaii

Admiral Tompkins watched as the dance between his air patrol and the incoming F-22s continued.  

"The strike from TF 42.2 is away," reported an aide standing next to him in the Bush's CIC.

"Very good," said Tompkins quietly as he watched the progress of the electronic dots on the screen in front of him.  The key now was for his fighters to manoeuvre the attackers into close-quarters combat.  The F-22 Raptor was the most advanced aircraft that men had ever built but, in a dogfight, it had no special advantages.  

"Should TF 42.3 get underway?" asked another officer.

"Yes, immediately," ordered Tompkins as he watched the symbols on the screen grow ever-closer together.

19th Fighter Squadron, Near Oahu

As the squadron neared the formation of ships, it became necessary for them to accelerate and change course in order to evade attack from the oncoming waves of Navy fighters.  The squadron leader led the main body of the F-22s as they increased their speed to more than twice the speed of sound and began to bear down upon the formation of amphibious ships that served as their designated target. 

The sudden increase in their speed caught the Navy pilots flat-footed and they were forced to change their own courses and rapidly accelerate in order to follow.  The only weapon possessed by the F-35 whose effectiveness was guaranteed against the stealthy Air Force planes were the GAU-22 gun pods mounted underneath each, meaning that it was necessary for them to close to extremely close range with their prey before they could engage.  The same held true for the SuperHornets now launching from the decks of both carriers, though with the added wrinkle that the F/A-18 was certainly vulnerable to the missiles carried by the F-22s.

At a range of some thirty nautical miles – well within the range of their payload but outside that of the point defenses of the ships below, the Air Force squadron increased their altitude to some 40,000 feet and slowed to just under the speed of sound.  As soon as this was achieved they released their bombs against the Iwo Jima and the nearby USS John P. Murtha, a San Antonio-class LPD.

Guided to their destination by the Global Positioning System the two hundred and eight Small Diameter Bombs flew towards their targets on the seas below.  Using conventional bombs against moving targets at sea, obviously, was a less-than-ideal arrangement and the ships were able to begin immediate evasive manoeuvres.  The JDAM had the capability of using a laser to provide it with terminal guidance against its target but, nevertheless, this was a usage of the weapon that had never been fully tested.  The planners hoped to make up for this deficiency by using so many of the things.  The bombs formed a virtual cloud, saturating the air over both the Iwo Jima and the Murtha.  The point defenses of both vessels attempted to engage the threat, but they were designed to deal with missiles, not bombs.  In the end, some fourteen of the bombs struck the Iwo Jima and eleven hit the Murtha.  In neither case were the blows instantly fatal.  Onboard the Iwo Jima, damage control parties were able to contain the damage relatively quickly with minimal casualties.  The same could not be said for the Murtha, where fires raged out of control.  The ship had to be abandoned two hours after the attack with the loss of some forty-six sailors and Marines.

The 19th Fighter Wing did not escape from their initial attack run unscathed.  The manoeuvres required to release their weapons allowed the force of F-35s to catch up with the F-22s and begin to engage them with cannon fire.  Two of the $200 million fighters were destroyed before the squadron was able to accelerate and begin to make a run for the protective Surface-to-Air missile batteries of home.  However, when they were just two-hundred miles from their destination, word filtered up to the men of the 19th that "home" would have to be somewhere else for at least a little while.

USS Lyndon B. Johnson (DDG-1002)

The USS Lyndon B. Johnson was the last of her particular line of while elephants to be built.  The Zumwalt-class Destroyer was all that remained of a once-ambitious project to remake the Navy's force of surface combatants for the 21st Century that had run aground amidst a storm of changing requirements, procurement politics, and the traditional cost-per-unit death spiral that afflicts major defense projects with high development costs when the total order is drastically cut.  Once the three ships of the class were actually constructed, no one had really had any idea what to do with them, so they had been assigned to the Pacific Fleet.  

One of the central features of the Zumwalt-class ship was the Advanced Gun System, a new 155mm weapon designed to fill the naval gunfire support gap created by the retirement of the Iowa-class Battleships.  The Lyndon Johnson and her sister ship, the Michael Monsoor, had never had a chance to fire their guns in anger, as none of the handful of conflicts and interventions in recent years had required them to utilize their unique abilities.  Now, some thirty-one kilometers off the Big Island of Hawaii, both ships were finally called upon for the first time.

The cruise missile strikes on Hickam Field had done only minimal damage to the base itself.  However, when combined with a steady trickle of follow-on missiles, they were enough to render flight operations at least somewhat hazardous.  That was all that Admiral Tompkins and the Seventh Fleet needed.  Intelligence had already alerted the rebel fleet to the fact that Hilo International Airport had been set up to serve as a fall-back base in the event that Hickam was rendered unusable.  

Carefully-implemented radar cross-section reducing features made the two Zumwalt-class Destroyers incredibly difficult to detect, allowing them to move into coastal waters undetected.  Once this was successfully accomplished, the final steps of the operation were simply a matter of patience.  

The Michael Monsoor and the Lyndon Johnson watched carefully and waited for the F-22s to begin their landing at Hilo.  Weapons and fuel, they knew, had been pre-dispersed to there and to other locations around the Hawaiian Islands in the hope that the stealth fighters, combined with what soldiers the government had on the ground, might prove to be a rapier-like weapon that would ward off the landing of the fleet.  Shelters to protect the aircraft against cruise missile attacks had been dug and generous quantities of surface-to-air missiles – a weapon that that government favored because they did not require a large number of personnel to man – had been liberally scatted in defense of every possible refuge in order to make carrier-based air attacks prohibitively costly.  

All of the Patriot missiles scattered around Hilo, however, were of no effect when the guns of the Destroyers opened up on the airfield as landing operations got underway.  Each of the twin turrets mounted by the ship contained firepower equivalent to a full battery of artillery.  Within a few minutes, the shells began to rain down upon the airport at a rate of forty shells per minute.  For ten full minutes a blizzard of artillery fire coated the airport, with some four hundred twenty-four pound explosive rounds crashing down upon the ground, with one concussive thud after another filling the air.

When the shelling stopped, fully seven of the precious F-22s were burning wrecks scattered around the airport and some sixty-one people, a mix of both military personnel and civilians, were dead.

Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam

Admiral Myers took the news calmly.  Though fifteen of his F-22s had survived – and there were still a handful of other aircraft scattered in the immediate area, it was clear that attempting to hold the base against a determined attack would be impossible.  Given this, the Admiral picked up his phone and did what he believed his duty required of him.

"This is Admiral Myers," he said, "activate Contingency One."

On the Admiral's order, evacuation alerts were sounded at every facility of military significance located within the Hawaiian Islands.  Personnel at these bases were led on a frantic scramble as individuals who were in the know as to what was about to happen frantically led them on.

The engineers who had done the work were incredibly thorough.  Explosives were set at key points and multiple redundancies were built into almost every installation.  Given the very nature of the task at hand there had been no reason to hold anything back.  

Eleven minutes after the Admiral had issued his first order, the first explosion shattered an Air Force fuel depot.  The explosion blew apart and then set alight an aviation fuel storage depot, turning the sky black.  Within seconds the first explosion was followed by the first of what, ultimately, would turn out to be hundreds of others.

In a matter of minutes, Admiral Myers had accomplished what Admiral Nagumo had singularly failed to do some eight decades earlier: he destroyed every major facility and resource that might have been of use in refitting, repairing, and resupplying the Pacific Fleet.

The Admiral stood reflectively at the window, looking at the increasing cloud of smoke and flecks of fire that shrouded the sky over the base.

"If the rebels still want this fucking place," he said, "then they can have it."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Game On

Halifax, Nova Scotia

On they came, one great container ship after another, each bringing with them a fearful cargo.  Brigadier General Alan Jefferson shuddered as each of the monsters drew up to the dock, knowing what the arrival of nearly 100,000 European soldiers meant for the future of both his country and himself.  If there had been any question – after the Great Mutiny and Second Pearl Harbor – as to whether it would come to all-out war, the matter was certainly settled now.  The rebels might have agreed to a negotiated settlement with fellow Americans, but they would never make any deal with an illegitimate President who invited foreign soldiers to American soil to kill Americans.  

The European officers who Jefferson worked with in organizing the unloading of the ships and the transportation of the men, equipment, and materiel to assembly areas in the West were incredibly professional and impressive, yet the General could not help but feel that they had a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation.

Global media – including those portions of the American press that was widely read in global circles – largely depicted the rebels as a gang of toothless, inbred, socially backward hicks bankrolled by a handful of avaricious billionaires.  The European soldiers, backed by these assurances, were confident that they – combined with the loyalist American forces – would swiftly whip the rebels and thus remove the last obstacle to the creation of a new progressive America (and with that the final obstacle to a new progressive world).  

"I never thought that I would be in the Army," a pretty young Hispanic woman said in an ad playing on a television that Jefferson walked past, "but I never thought that people with guns would try and take away my rights.  Not in America."

Jefferson shook his head sadly.  The Federal Government in Washington had responded to the collapse of the portions of the military under its control by reactivating the Army of the United States, the organization to which draftees had notionally belonged in both World Wars and throughout the Cold War up until the end of the draft.  To date the government had not introduced conscription, preferring instead to attempt to   recruit short-term volunteers with gender and race-based recruiting approaches that were often less-than-subtle.  To date these efforts had managed to gain the government the better part of a million volunteers – and more than a few officers had jumped at the rapid wartime promotions that the AUS offered, but Jefferson hated to think of what would happen to those people the first time they faced real combat.

The last of the cargo belonging to the 1st Panzer Division was being unloaded now.  The General lifted his tablet up and buried his face in the manifest as he walked near the dock, hoping that he would fail to catch the attention of Generalmajor Kurt Hausser, the commander of the Division.

"General!" shouted Hausser as soon as he saw Jefferson.  Jefferson walked forward for a few feet before Hausser shouted for a second time.

"General Jefferson!" he yelled, waving his hands in the air.  With a sigh, Jefferson stopped and lowered his tablet.

"General Hausser," he said, with a nod.

"General," said the German, "I hate to be a bother, but I must tell you that we are falling entirely behind our timetable for the unloading of our equipment.  Given that we have a very ambitious schedule to meet, this just won't do."

"I understand that," replied Jefferson, "and the men under my command are working as fast as they can..."

"Yes, but the way that they are working, we won't have this equipment on the road nearly in time to meet your President's schedule."

"We are working as fast as we can.  We cannot defy laws of physics," said Jefferson.

"We would never do things this way in Germany.  The level of disorganization here is palpable," said Hausser.

"Perhaps the laws of physics are different in Germany," said Jefferson, "but we are doing the best that we can."

"Bah," rambled the German, "I think that the people here would do well to remember why they are here and what is at stake, not simply to look at this as an ordinary offloading of cargo.  We are here to make a new world together."

Beijing, People's Republic of China

"Welcome to China, Mr. King," said Li Ying, the Deputy Foreign Minister of the People's Republic of China, as he extended his hand to a haggard-looking Augustus King.

"Thank you," mumbled King.

"I hope that you have found your accommodations satisfactory," said Li.

"They were.  Thank you.  I was able to catch up on some much-needed sleep," lied King, who had spent the entire previous night reviewing figures.

"Now," continued King with a wry smile, "you should understand that I am not, in any sense, an official representative of the government of the United States.  I am here simply as a representative of the Praetorian Corporation and in a private capacity as an American citizen."

"Naturally," said Li, leaning back in his chair.

"That being said, as a patriot, I have – of course – very strong opinions as to current events in my own country."

"And China," replied Li, "as a friend of America, has always been eager to help."

Temporary Seat of the United States Government, Cheyenne Mountain, CO

"My fellow Americans," began Acting President Terrance Rickover from the podium set up in the former NORAD facility at Cheyenne Mountain, "I come before you tonight to speak about the continuing crisis that has engulfed our country and, indeed, the entire world.

"In the United States Congress – and now as the Acting President of this nation – my paramount objective has always been to safeguard the liberties of our people and to defend our Constitution.  We – we of the Congress and those in the government who have remained loyal to the Constitution – have not acted with any other considerations – either personal or partisan – in mind.

"Yet, in spite of our best efforts at maintaining the peace, we now indisputably find ourselves at war.  Indeed, not only at war but embroiled in the worst of all possible wars – a civil war that pits American against American.  Given the enormity of this event, a decent respect for the opinion of mankind and of our fellow citizens impels us to state the reasons for this and to tell you how long that this will go on for.

"How did we get to here?

"My fellow citizens, we are where we are today because our government has failed.  The framers of the Constitution designed a system of government where interest was meant to be balanced against interest and where the liberties of the people were to be secured by tension between those interests.  That system was broken because, for far too long, the letter and the intent of our Constitution was ignored by those who wished to transform our government into a system for the transfer of wealth between persons and regions.  What many of those who supported this transformation, often for noble and humanitarian reasons, failed to recognize is that wealth is synonymous with power.  The concentration of power over all of the wealth of the nation in the hands of the Federal Government – and effectively in the hands of the Executive – meant the concentration of all political power in the hands of the Federal Government as well.  Once this happened, some sort of reckoning became inevitable because the demands of all of the interest groups exceeded the ability of the government to pay.  Power is inherently corrupting and it was inevitable that those with it would use force to save themselves before they would voluntarily give up control.  Ultimately, this required them to destroy our liberties.

"Now, there are those who accept this.  Those who accept that the Federal Government was out-of-control and that it was violating the liberties of the people, but who question our response to these established facts.

"Could we not, they ask, simply have waited until the next election?  Was it necessary to attempt the impeachment of the President and to, in so doing, trigger the response that occurred?

"Well, to those I ask: how, under the circumstances, could we trust that the election would be conducted fairly and the results would be expected?  We all remember the great scandals of the re-election of Mr. Obama.  We remember how the IRS was turned against American citizens and how the media colluded with the President to cover up the betrayal of soldiers and diplomats who did under our flag at Benghazi.  We know that that was only the beginning.  We know that it only got worse from there.  When Mr. Bryan's predecessor responded to a financial crisis by simply ignoring the law or when Mr. Bryan chose to use obscure and absurd interpretations of the law to throw his opponents in jail...  When Mr. Bryan sanctioned the disruption of the proceedings of the Congress by a violent mob.  All of these things followed one upon the other.  The unchecked lawlessness of the executive demanded that we resist.  And so we did.

"Now, there are those who accept this.  These people are within our own ranks.  And they point out that the government of the United States, as reconstituted here in Colorado, now controls the majority of the states and portions of most others.  They point out, quite correctly, that the majority of the nation's resources and its productive populations are within our hands.  They argue that we should take what have and set the rest adrift, to leave the rest of the nation to suffer for its own sins.

"But that, ladies and gentlemen, would be an example of all of the things that we aren't.  We're Americans.  We don't leave our people behind.  Not a single one of them.  Even in the most ignorant and benighted places in our country, there are still citizens who love liberty and are willing to stand up for it.  All across America, both free and that controlled by the criminal Washington regime, there are little islands of liberty swimming the oceans of ignorance.  America – all of it – will be one again.  America – all of it – will be restored to liberty.  That is my promise.  That is what we, together, must set out to achieve.

"But how are we to achieve this?  In recent months you will have seen lurid dramatic and journalistic depictions of the future: of tanks on the streets of our great cities, of massive bombing raids, even of nuclear war.  In truth, I plan nothing of the kind.  What I intend to do, as the Acting President of the United States, is to resume the normal business of the government.  We will get our economy going again.  We will begin to make some sense of the awful financial situation that our country is in.  And, finally, we will begin to enact political reforms as a way of finding a permanent resolution to the troubles that have afflicted us in so many recent years.

"In particular, I am calling a special session of the United States Congress.  In one month's time the Congress will assemble here in Colorado in order to consider certain matters arising out of the conference of State Governors that was recently convened.  In particular, I expect that this special session of the Congress will be asked to deal with petitions from several states seeking the blessing of the Congress to allow the division of those states into two.  As well, I know that several members of the Congress intend to introduce Amendments to the Constitution designed to clarify the spending and taxation authority of the government as well as who qualifies to vote in Federal Elections.  I hope that the Congress takes swift action on all of these measures.

"Now, there may be continued fighting as the illegitimate government of the impeached former President attempts to hold out in Washington.  In our fight for liberty, there have already been deaths and losses.  I am sorry to say that there will be more before this is over.  We regret that fact.  We mourn for those who have been lost and will for those who will be in the future.  But Americans have risked all for liberty before.  With God's help, we will do so today.  And we pray that we may do so for all time."

The Situation Room, The White House, Washington, DC

"The rebels talk a good game," General Hall began his briefing to the so-called Emergency Committee that had taken up residence in the White House and OEOB, "but the truth is that they are woefully unprepared for sustained operations of any sort."

The General hit a button and changed the slide behind him.

"The Pacific Fleet is docked at Pearl Harbor, but the small Marine contingent that they have on hand is left, in effect, as an occupying force in the State of Hawaii and the damage our forces did to the facilities there mean that they are unable to use any of them to maintain or repair their fleet."

He changed another slide.

"They have some air assets, but they have minimal air infrastructure.  The leadership of the Strategic Command came over to them along with most of our remaining nuclear assets, but they have pledged that they will not use any of them in this conflict.  In fact, they are using them to maintain our national strategic deterrent throughout this process.

"The active-duty army was either largely deployed to the Middle East, where it remains, or was badly damaged during the uprising.  The forces that they do have are short on every single major supply category and, for the time being, lack the ability to replenish.  Where do you – beyond limited local stocks – get parts for an Abrams tank in the Far West?

"They have raised volunteers, to be certain, but beyond the Canadian mercenary formation, they are largely restricted to being armed with rifles and grenades.  And even military-grade rifles are in short supply, I might add.  A lot of the new rebel units are armed with personal weapons."

The General moved around the table and changed slides again.

"Yet, at the same time, the forces we possess are weak as well.  The majority of the active-duty Army, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Navy either joined the rebels, went home, or are in posts that are not fully under the control of either side, such as in the Middle East.  Fewer than 100,000 pre-war active-duty service members are affirmatively under the control of the government at the current time.  Those are supplemented by volunteers, of course, in various states of training and readiness as well as the forces of our allies.  We're stronger than them, but not by a large margin."

"And what if we sent the forces that we have on-hand, both American and Allied, against the main rebel forces in and around Colorado?" asked the Secretary of State.

"Well, the balance of probabilities on paper would favor us," said General Hall, "but battles are so much more than what's down on paper.  It would be impossible to predict the outcome with confidence."

"So I take it, General," said Senator Dianne Dawson, "that you do not want us to assault the main rebel army at this time?"

"That would be correct, Senator," said Hall.

"What is the alternative course that you are proposing?" asked Dawson.

"First," said Hall, leaning against the lectern, "we need to recognize that this is going to be a long war.  Potentially lasting a number of years."

"Ok," said Dawson.

Hall walked over to the map.

"Roughly speaking, the country has been broken into three geographical pieces.  The Federal Government controls the majority of both coasts, except for most of the South, and the rebels control most of what's in the center.  That confers advantages and disadvantages upon both sides.

"The rebels have the advantage of having a central position and also holding a lot of terrain well-suited for defensive operations.  Their primary disadvantage is that they don't have a decent outlet to the sea or to supplies from abroad.

"The Federal Government, on the other hand, controls most major port cities and a majority of the population.  This is both an advantage and a disadvantage, as a large part of the population residing in the territories still under Federal control are not of significant military or economic utility.

"Also, we need to recognize that we have effectively lost control of the sea – at least in the Pacific.  Now, the rebel fleet has and will have serious supply and maintenance problems in the future, but they are still a very dangerous force.  We control the Pacific Coast, but the rebel fleet will be able to mount a blockade there.  I also would not rule out that they might attempt a landing somewhere on the coast.  If we want to supply the states on the Pacific Coast – as I imagine we must – then we are going to want to route those supplies through Mexico via land.  Or, possibly, to carve a corridor through the Southwest, though that means fighting our way through rebel-held territory in Oklahoma, Texas, Arizona and, to some extent, in New Mexico as well."

"And then what?" asked Dawson.

"Resupply, reposition, and rearm," answered Hall. "Launch limited offensive operations to de-stabilize the rebel government, but largely hold the line."

"I think..." began Secretary of Defense Gerald Ransom, stopping suddenly when something flashed across the corner of his eye.  Everyone in the room rose to their feet as President Kevin Bryan strode on in.

"No, no, be seated ladies and gentlemen," said the President, waving his hands dismissively.

"Welcome back, Mr. President," said Secretary Ransom.

"Thank you," said Bryan, flopping into his seat at the end of the table.

"Now," said the President, "I have read all of the briefing materials for this meeting and others that have taken place recently and I must say that I consider what I have seen to be wholly unsatisfactory."

"I am sorry that you feel that way, Mr. President," said the Secretary of State stiffly, "but we have been confronting this situation on a day-by-day basis for months and perhaps..."

"Yes, Mr. Secretary," said Bryan, "I think that perhaps you have gotten a little bit too close to – a little too absorbed in the details of – this problem."

The President took his tablet out of a jacket pocket and slammed it down upon the table.  Its screen featured a headline about the proposals to be considered by the session of the Congress that had been summoned in Colorado.

"In twenty-seven days," said the President, "the rebel Congress will meet at Colorado Springs.  When they do, they will pass sweeping new laws and changes that will be almost impossible to control and stop, because many of them are actually popular.  Have you seen this polling?  Therefore, the rebel Congress must not meet at Colorado Springs.  In twenty-seven days that place must be in the hands of the national army."

The President stood up and began to move around the edge of the room.

"Mr. President," said Secretary Ransom, "with all due respect, making such an attempt would be tremendously risky.  We've been studying this problem for some months..."

"Risky, to be sure," said the President, "but possible, yes?"

"Possible," nodded General Hall, "but not advisable."

"What happens to this country if we go through a whole year with the sort of riots and disruptions that we've seen practically every day?" asked the President.

"It's not pretty," conceded Senator Dawson.

"But it's doable," emphasized Secretary Ransom, "we've done the math.  Yes, we will need to resort to extraordinary measures – even take in some international aid, especially food aid..."

"For which arrangements have already been made abroad," noted the Secretary of State.

"No," insisted the President, "we're not going to do that.  Prepare for offensive action against the rebels."

"Mr. President," insisted General Hall, "I believe that this is a very grave mistake."

"Look at the map!" hollered the President, stomping over towards the wall.

"We outnumber them now.  Do we not?"

"Yes, Mr. President," said Hall, "but many of our soldiers are half-trained, at best.  Their military value will be doubtful."

"Will we still outnumber them in six months or a year, when they've been able to pull their forces together?"

"That's a difficult question to answer."

"And what if they organize their forces.  If they were to join up their forces in the South with their forces in Texas, would we be able to stop their offensive?"

"I believe so, Mr. President," answered the General.

"Believe so, but could you guarantee it?"

"Nothing is certain in war, Mr. President."

"No ladies and gentlemen," the President shook his head, "nothing is certain.  But I believe, with every bone in my body, that waiting will avail us of nothing.  We go.  Now.  That's an order."

Fort Drum, New York

With most major training facilities located either within states under the control of the rebel government or vulnerable to an immediate assault from such a state, the Department of Defense had decided to relocate its training activities almost wholly within the Northeastern United States, the one region in which Federal military power remained pre-eminent that was also fairly easily accessible.  With a majority of active-duty soldiers still loyal to the Bryan Administration being used as training cadre, the Federal Government had issued a call for a million volunteers.

Fort Drum, which had remained in the hands of the Washington-based government, had become the basic training facility for the new Army of the United States.  Certainly it was a place that Sarah Watkins, a woman raised in liberal California and trained to be a schoolteacher, had never expected to find herself. 

"The word is that we're going to be moving out," whispered her friend, Maya Robinson, as they worked on cleaning the floor of their barracks.

"Moving out?" said Watkins incredulously, "we're barely halfway through the individual portion of our training."

"Regardless," said Robinson, "they've got the European troops and the handful of old units that they held together and they want to go."

"That's crazy.  Most of us can barely fire a rifle."

To the surprise of many, the Federal Government had been able to find a great number of recruits.  They had done it largely through the intensive use of the individual-targeting capabilities of the Democratic Party, using voter lists and social media to find loyal Democrats willing to place themselves at personal risk in the name of the cause of a greater tomorrow.  The downside of this was that the majority of those recruited were singularly unsuitable for military service.

"Yes, but we can fire our rifles," said Robinson pridefully, "and that alone will be a shock to the rebels."

"But they can shoot us too," said Watkins quietly.

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

General Dylan Mackenzie and the rest of the soldiers under his command had walked a careful line in the days since the Great Mutiny.

"I am not a politician," Mackenzie had explained in a short statement to the press, "I am a soldier and I have a job to do.  I will continue to do that job until I am ordered to do something else.  Then I will do that."

While it had been a constant struggle for the General to maintain a face of neutrality in public, it had paid off so far.  To date, both the Bryan Administration and the Rickover Administration had decided against forcing the General who commanded the majority of the intact units of the United States Army and a substantial portion of both the Air Force and the Navy to make a firm and final decision as to where his ultimately loyalties lay.  This expedient solution had been facilitated by the willingness of both the Loyalist and the Rebel Departments of Defense to issue the same orders to the General – hold your position – and to overlook any minor variations in procedure when it came to the actual implementation of those orders.

Still, given the presence of Augustus King and other officials of the Praetorian Corporation in close proximity to the leadership of CENTCOM, most people were pretty sure that they knew which side the force there was going to land on whenever the time for a final decision arrived.  On account of this, General Mackenzie and his staff were prepared to be betrayed by the Bryan Administration at any given moment and were wholly unsurprised when the appointed hour arrived.

"Fucking Russians?" asked General Mackenzie incredulously as he scrolled through then latest intelligence report that had been set down upon his desk.  

"That's about the size of it, General," said Colonel Ryan Casey, CENTCOM's intel chief, "we put the size of the force at eight divisions in transit based upon what we've been able to put together, even with our direct access to a lot of satellite-based intelligence cut off."

"But no formal word about it?"

"No," confirmed Casey, "not from anyone."

"What about you?" asked Mackenzie, looking in the direction of Lieutenant General Avidgor Aronov of the Israeli Defense Force.

"Well," said Aronov, "our intelligence assets are not what they once were.  But, yes, I've consulted with Colonel Casey upon this and it does definitely appear that the Russians are moving in some force and leaning upon a lot of the Central Asian republics.  I definitely concur with his report."

General Mackenzie turned to face Augustus King.

"Well," said Mackenzie, "we've waited here for months, just like you wanted, and now we have motherfucking Russians coming our way, presumably instigated by our supposed leaders.  Does your plan account for this?"

"Yes."

"Yes?" asked Mackenzie, "you anticipated that we'd have crazy motherfucking Russians moving our way?"

"We are playing for incredible stakes, General," said King, "and we always knew that our enemies were resourceful and clever.  But we are clever as well."

Spokane, WA

Word of the movement of Loyalist forces from the East spurred Governor Mitchell Randall to action earlier than he'd expected.  The members of the Washington State Legislature who had assembled in Spokane didn't quite constitute a quorum, but the Governor was quite confident that the Congress at Colorado Springs would be willing to overlook any process-related irregularities.

"Members of the Legislature, fellow citizens, I come before you this evening to ask that you recognize a physical reality and that, acting upon that, you pass the most momentous act to ever been considered in the history of this great deliberative assembly.  Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, you have the chance – even as war is upon us – to begin the process of healing our country.

"The great majority of Americans do not want war.  We are still one country.  But we find ourselves at a crossroads because for many years our national government has been in the grips of a handful of ambitious men and women who have abused and distorted the work of our Founders in order to assure the accumulation and centralization of power for their own personal and ideological gain.

"As a result of the corrupt and, yes, evil acts of these individuals our nation was transformed into a place where every individual strived to extract as much as they could from others instead of seeking to do as much as they could for themselves.  Because the human soul is naturally repelled by thievery, they tried to cloak their acts with rhetoric.  In this twisted vision of the world those who stole, not those stolen from, became the victims.  The recipients of charity became entitled to all that they received, instead of the beneficiaries of the goodwill of others.  This twisted the soul of America.  America became a place and our government became an entity by which most people sought to take from others instead of creating for themselves.  This became not only morally acceptable but, in fact, celebrated.  And this was as true on Main Street as it was on Wall Street.

"But parasites cannot survive alone and too many will kill the host.  And that is exactly what happened in Washington.  The locusts were set loose across the land and, when the crops were all gone, the wise men and women who were supposed to be protecting us offered up the seeds as well.

"Now, however, we can begin to rebuild our country.  We can begin this process here tonight in Washington by recognizing a physical reality: our state is divided.  It is divided between those areas under the control of the old Federal Government in Washington and those under the control of the legitimate Federal Government in Colorado.  But it is also divided in a moral and spiritual sense, between those who would take and those who would create.

"Let's talk straight.  Freedom would always win in Washington, were it not for a heavy concentration of looters in King County.  This phenomenon is true not only in this state, but in many others as well.  Dense concentrations of takers in some of our great cities outweigh the votes of productive citizens everywhere else.  The Founding Fathers, in creating the Constitution, intended to ensure that a proper balance was created between the competing interests.  However, in recent decades, that balance has been shattered in favor of protecting the interests of those whose votes have secured the powers of the permanent political class.

"There are many remedies for this.  Some of them are complicated.  One of them is simple and within our power.  Tonight, I ask the Legislature to vote to send to the Congress the proposed measure that would create the new State of Cascadia."

The White House, Washington, DC

When President Kevin Bryan appeared to address the nation for the first time in months, the first thing that most people noticed was that the President had lost a substantial amount of weight.  Next they noticed the fiery intensity that filled the man's eyes.

"My fellow Americans, over recent months you have watched as our nation has been divided.  This division has been driven by the greed of a few who, rather than work together for the progress of all Americans, have placed the selfish goal of assuring their own positions above the good of the whole nation.  Those who have taken this approach have been willing to commit crimes of every nature, up to and including murder.

"What these people do not recognize – or, perhaps more accurately, what they do recognize but are afraid of – is that we all need to be in this together and that all of us includes a newer and more diverse America which consists of people from many nations and many different modes of living.  Rather than accept that reality and that their own day of privilege is over, these few fanatics have been willing to drive the country into the full-on horrors of a civil war.

"I know that there are many in this country who believe that the circumstances require compromise.  But I do not believe that there can be any middle ground found between greed and virtue, or between bigotry and acceptance.  That America – an open, sharing, and tolerant America – is the one that I, as your President, swore to protect.  It is the one that Henry Warren died trying to create.  It is one that I am willing to die to preserve.

"I have concluded that, however regrettable any loss of life is, military measures will be required in order to preserve the nation against the insurrection that now exists.  It is my duty under the Constitution to suppress this rebellion and I will execute it, however personally difficult that may prove to be.

"The details of military operations, of course, will sometimes have to be withheld from the public.  That is the nature of war.  But I will say this: the time for action is coming.

"And, tonight, to the leaders and supporters of the rebellion I say this: the hour is not so late that you cannot reverse course.  Join us in building a better, more open, more tolerant America.  Doing this requires no more of you than that you give up your fear of the unknown."

Temporary Seat of the United States Government, Cheyenne Mountain, CO

"Well, Mr. President," said Mark Preston, "we've got to make some important decisions now.  The First Army is moving down the I-70 out of Pennsylvania into Ohio at the moment.  Our best intelligence says that the First Army consists of the II Corps, which consists of the re-formed and re-organized 10th Mountain Division as well as the 42nd Infantry Division, which has been mobilized by pulling together pretty much every single major National Guard unit in the Eastern United States that responded to the Bryan Administration's orders.  They're joined by a unit that they're calling the 1st Infantry Division, formed out of a mix of active force volunteer loyalists as well as new recruits.  Call it altogether some 70,000 soldiers.

"They're joined by X Corps, which is a unit formed by the mix of NATO forces that have been shipped across the Atlantic.  That's the German First Panzer Division, and the French first "major force" – effectively an armored division as well.  There's also a mixed European force of divisional size under a British General and anchored by a British tank brigade.  In other words, another 70,000 soldiers give or take."

"And what do we have organized to oppose them at this point?" asked Rickover.

"Well," said Preston, "we've got the 81st Brigade from the Washington National Guard.  The Western Republic Army unit is here as well.  That's pretty much a large brigade, though it's nominally designated as a division.  Our primary fighting force is the 101st Airborne Division, which is actually in pretty good shape at this point in time.  But they're not set up to fight German tanks."

"That's it?" asked the Acting President.

"We have some other scattered units around.  I'd make it for a total of 60,000 soldiers in various states of readiness in Colorado.  Of course, we also have other units elsewhere in the country."

"Can they help?"

"The Third Infantry Division, of course, was even able to temporarily take over Washington.  General Starnes has that and another Division's worth of soldiers organized as the Army of the South.  But they're far away.  And they have a lot of territory to cover.

"Down in Texas, we've got a fair-sized force.  Of course, the disposition of that force itself is somewhat ambiguous.  Make it two Divisions in Texas.

"The problem is that most of the Army, though it came over to us, is still overseas and difficult to move.  The 2nd Infantry Division is in Korea.  The 1st and 4th are in the Middle East.  Ditto the 1st Cavalry and the 82nd Airborne.  The 25th is scattered to the wind.

"We do have the 11th ACR in California, but they're really just holding in place, gazing warily at loyalist Army National Guard forces."

"So, you're telling me that – in a country of this size – we don't have any major forces between Colorado and the Eastern Seaboard of the country?"

"Yes, that's about the size of it," admitted the Secretary of Defense, "there are scattered elements of the 28th, 34th, and 38th Divisions that joined up with us, but none of them are in a position to offer serious resistance to an army the size of the one that the loyalists are moving.  We have our own volunteers being trained at Fort Benning, but they're not ready for combat either.  Especially against professional soldiers."

"How do you think we should proceed now?"

"We call in what forces we can and then we wait for them to come to us.  And, when they do, we take the gloves off everywhere.  That includes our overseas contingencies."

The Situation Room, The White House, Washington, DC

"It's time, Mr. President," said the Secretary of Defense softly as the members of the National Security Council viewed the disposition of the forces that Central Command had arrayed across the Middle East.

"Ok," said Bryan, "get me a secure line."

The President, along with the Secretaries of State and Defense, the National Security Advisor, General Hall, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff sat in silence as aides set up a video connection with Jerusalem.

"We're ready to go, Mr. President," announced the communications aide, an Air Force Major as the face of General Mackenzie appeared on the screen.

"Mr. President," said Mackenzie curtly.

"General," replied the President, "I have some very regrettable news.  As you must already know, the United Nations Security Council has passed a new resolution with regard to your Peacekeeping mission in the Middle East.  It is the view of the Security Council, in which the government of the United States has been forced to acquiesce, that, in view of the political situation that exists in the United States today it is not possible or desirable for American soldiers to continue to take on the role that they have assumed in resolving the Middle East crisis.  To that end, the Russian Federation has been invited – and has accepted that invitation – to take over the peacekeeping mission that is now ongoing there.

"Furthermore," continued Bryan, "in the interests of preventing the unnecessary loss of human life here, given the ongoing acts of political violence that have occurred and are anticipated in the near future, it has also been decided that the best course of action with regard to the Central Command is for the members of the armed forces stationed within the region to remain there for the duration of the crisis, albeit in a non-combatant capacity."

"Mr. President," replied General Mackenzie, "am I to understand that you are ordering my soldiers to disarm themselves and to place themselves at the mercy of the Russian forces that are moving through Central Asia?"

"Our hope is to keep your soldiers, as I wish I could do for all Americans, out of the fighting," replied the President, "and, in any case, based on the information that we have here it appears to be unrealistic to hope that you, without resupply, will be able to conduct serious military operations in the immediate future.  And, I must tell you in all honesty General, that the supplies you would require for such a contingency are simply not available at the present time."

The President smirked as he delivered the last line.

"Mr. President?" said Mackenzie.

"Yes?" asked Bryan.

"Go fuck yourself."

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

The screen went blank.  General Mackenzie breathed deeply.

"Initiate Operation Deluge," he ordered, before turning to face Augustus King.

"You'd better be fucking right," he said, before getting up and stalking out of the room.

Near Colby, KS

The orders to Central Command had triggered a series of orders from General Hall to all elements of the First Army, which was by then in western Kansas, as well as all of the forces assigned to its support.  

During its week-long journey across half of the continent, the First Army had only been sporadically engaged by unconventional forces, most of them unsanctioned by any government.  That messy fighting had taken two hundred and fourteen lives among the American and European soldiers, largely as a result of the effective deployment of roadside improvised explosive devices by veterans who had learned a thing or two about how such things were done in Afghanistan and Iraq.  Other than a few scattered firefights with guerrillas who attempted to directly engage the army, most of the First Army and the forces assigned to support it had not fired a single shot in anger during the entire course of their westward journey.  

Now, however, that was rapidly changing.

It has been a struggled for the Federal Government to find qualified military pilots, most of them having joined up with the rebels or gone home.  But there were enough to fly the three hundred tactical aircraft that had been moved into Kansas and Nebraska to support the advance into Colorado.  These were supplemented by one hundred and fifty additional planes belonging to various European air forces and nearly five hundred drones, most of which were flown by pilots without previous military service.

General Martin Walker, appointed as the commander of the First Army, watched as a flight of a dozen F-16Cs from the Florida Air National Guard, representing one of the first waves of the all-out assault on the rebels, zoomed by overhead.

"Damn," the General said, shaking his head sadly.

"Sir?" asked an aide.

"I never thought I'd see the day that we were flying combat missions in fucking Kansas," said Walker.

"Of course," nodded the aide, "we have the first reports coming in.  Our air missions all got off the ground successfully, but they've been engaged in the air by rebel aircraft all across the front.  There have been some pretty serious losses.  Thankfully it seems like the rebels only have a limited number of front-line combat aircraft ready."

"To be expected," said Walker quietly, "and on the ground?"

"The 1st Panzer Division continues to spearhead the advance.  They're moving in good order.  Our helicopters are cutting them a path."

"Alright," said Walker, "order the lead Brigade to make its dash."

Temporary Seat of the United States Government, Cheyenne Mountain, CO

"Well," said Mark Preston as the screens arrayed across the command center showed battle damage from across the State of Colorado, "thank God for the Texans."

"Mmm..." murmured Acting President Rickover in assent.  The timely arrival of the 1st Armored Division meant that the forces of the rebel government, though they were still outnumbered, at least had a fighting chance against the mighty armored punch that the European forces provided to the otherwise-green Army of the United States.

"Do you think that they know what we pulled out of the Boneyard?" asked House Majority Leader Michael Nelson.

"I'm sure they know we pulled stuff from there," said Preston, "I mean, they can see it from space.  But I don't think that they know nearly how much."

"Well," said the Acting President, "they're about to find out.  Begin the attack."

Over Eastern Colorado

Lieutenant Colonel Avi Stern couldn't help but laugh as he moved his ancient F-4 Phantom II forward over windswept Colorado.  The McDonnell Douglas-built beast, nicknamed the "Rhino" during its previous service in the Air Force, was obsolete before he was born.  Even his own Israeli Air Force, which held onto their gear for as long as possible, had retired their last F-4s when he had been nothing more than a rookie.

But, there were a lot of them sitting in the desert in Arizona, just in case they were ever needed again.  They were tough and they could be refurbished in surprising large numbers.  The new leadership of the United States Air Force had managed, all told, to put nearly five hundred of them back into the field.  Trucked out under the cover of darkness and then quietly dispersed in much the same way, the Air Force had worked a minor miracle: the Loyalist government in Washington didn't have a clue what was waiting for them.

Still, putting that many planes into the air had meant finding pilots.  The temporary volunteers commissioned by the Air Force to man the aircraft pulled from the Boneyard were one of the most bizarre military forces, in terms of the composition of their personnel, ever to be put into the field.  The 14th Provisional Fighter Squadron, of which Stern was the commander, had pilots who ranged in age from a nineteen year-old college sophomore with a private pilot's license who had been hastily commissioned out of Western Washington University to a seventy-four-year-old Arizonian who had flown F-105 Thunderchiefs in Vietnam.

Far ahead of the squadron of a dozen Phantoms, Stern knew, the preciously-husbanded resources of the rest of the United States Air Force and Air National Guard, were attempting to clear a path for them.  That battle was invisible to stern and the rest of the men of the 14th, occurring beyond visual range between combatants who were exchanging missile fire at a distance of fifty miles or more.  Nothing that Stern could do would influence the outcome of that contest.  All that he and his men could do, he knew, was their own individual jobs.

Each Phantom flew heavily, loaded down as they were with eighteen Mk. 82 General Purpose Bombs.  Out of necessity, the bombs that the F-4s carried were all unguided – GPS having been rendered unreliable and laser-guidance kits being in extremely short supply.  

As they approached their designated target – one of the leading battalions of the 1st Panzer Division – alarms began to sound on Stern's plane as they were engaged by German-fired Patriot missiles.

"Release at the designated point," ordered Stern as he and his fellow pilots and radar intercept officers continued forward.

One of the other Phantoms of the squadron, sitting at the leftwards limit of Stern's peripheral vision, was struck by a missile that shredded the aircraft in a spectacular fireball that Stern could not spare precious seconds to observe.  

Arriving over the German unit, the Phantoms slowed and dropped their bombs.  Each of the five hundred pound devices dropped to the ground and detonated, leaving a trail of deadly carnage in its wake.  Though the bombs were relatively ineffective against most of the German Leopard tanks – except for the occasional lucky direct hit – they shredded personnel caught out in the open.  The bombs exploded one after another, setting fires and demolishing the roads on which the Germans hoped to continue their advance.  

Stern didn't have time to admire his work.  As soon as he released his bombs, he attempted to increase speed and evade the two Patriot surface-to-air missiles that were tracking him and his Phantom.

It simply wasn't enough.  The speed that he bled off while making his attack run was simply too much to allow him to cleanly evade the pair of missiles.  Changing tacks, he attempted to dive for the ground.  His sudden change of course, combined with radar-confusing chaff, was enough to allow him to evade one of the two missiles.  However, in so doing, he placed himself directly in the path of the other missile, which impacted the belly of the aircraft as it angled downwards.

Over Fort Morgan, CO

Captain Alison Miller banked her F-16C sharply to the right to avoid the first of the incoming AMRAAM missiles that the loyalist forces from within the USAF had fired from nearly maximum range.  As soon as the planes pulled out of the AMARG had appeared on the scene – the so-called "Dinosaur Flight" – the entire ordered structure of air operations over the Colorado-Kansas-Nebraska theatre of operations had simply broken down into a wild melee.  

The F-16s speed sharply increased as Captain Miller worked to increase altitude.  With nearly a thousand planes in the air, the hastily planned operation had simply moved beyond the ability of the controllers to manage, especially with all of the confusion generated by the fact that many of the aircraft on both sides were of identical models and configuration.

As soon as she regained her bearings, Miller began to manoeuvre to attempt to obtain a solid lock on the F-15 that had fired upon her.  Even if she couldn't be certain of the identity of every other plane in the air, she was pretty sure that she could be sure of the disposition of that particular squadron.  Levelling off her fighter, Miller caught sight of the Eagle that had fired upon her.

"Fox Three," she announced as she released an AMRAAM of her own in the direction of the incoming F-15.

1st Battalion, 77th Armor Regiment, Near Flagler, CO

Lieutenant Colonel Eugene Harrington had commanded the 1st Battalion, 77th Armor Regiment for all of three months when the Great Mutiny occurred.  At Fort Bliss, unlike in a lot of the rest of the Army, there had been no great disorders.  As soon as the first fighting at Washington had been reported, Major General Bernie Ward, the Divisional commander, had announced that the 1st Armored Division would resolve their dispute in the "most American of all possible ways": they would vote.

Eighty-two percent of the men and women of the 1st Armored Division had voted to join up with the Congressional Government.  Of those who had voted against doing so, ultimately several hundred elected to stay on and fight anyways.  As a result, the division (after it was supplemented by volunteers) had made its way to Colorado at almost full strength.

Apache helicopters and Reaper drones belonging to the Loyalist forces had managed to inflict some real damage to the 1st Battalion.  Their Hellfire missiles had reached down from the sky and destroyed two Abrams tanks while placing another out of action.  However, the helicopters had paid dearly for the damage that they had managed to inflict as the nearby wreckage of an AH-64D smashed by a pair of Stinger missiles could attest.  It said something, Harrington thought, that they had not stopped to try and render assistance to the crew of the downed Apache.  For all he knew men he had served alongside were burning to death just a few hundred feet away and he was ignoring it.  

It was shortly after noon when Alpha Company made contact with the leading elements of the German formation that was spearheading the advance of the First Army.  With a voice calmer than he felt, Harrington gave the order for the battalion to engage and the leading American company moved to the crest of a hill.

The American tanks caught the Germans by surprise, firing ripples of M830A1 High Explosive Anti-Tank rounds at the leading Leopard 2s of the First Panzer Division.  The first wave of American rounds landed against the armor of the Germans with devastating effect.  The Leopard 2 was a fast tank and well-built, but few things in the world are capable of standing up to twenty-five pounds worth of armor-piecing explosives fired at a high velocity.  Three of the German tanks were disabled and a third simply blew apart, scattering a mix of metal and human remains across the Coloradan ground.

From his command vehicle, Harrington watched as Alpha Company backed up beyond the crest of the hill.  The Germans, momentarily confused, halted as someone attempted to figure out the next best step.  Further air support was called in to attempt to dislodge Alpha Company from its position as the next German platoon attempted to race down the I-70, hoping to move faster than the American forces could react.

Bravo Company was positioned along the Interstate itself, specifically to stop such an attempted movement.  The Germans had a better idea of the position of the second company and attempted to engage them with Anti-Tank Guided Missiles at long range.  The missiles soared across the landscape and, for the most part, harmlessly impacted features of the terrain.  The rest of the forward portion of the 1st Panzer Division was forced to call a halt when the Americans would not yield control of the road, hanging back and waiting for the called-for air support to arrive.

Apaches, Reapers, and a mix of F-16s and Eurofighter Typhoons were on standby to deliver close air support for First Army.  However, by the time that the commander of the German division was able to get his support, the USAF fighters who had acted as a shield for the fighter-bombers reclaimed from the Boneyard had had more than enough time to re-fuel and re-arm.  As the rebel F-15s and F-16s raced across the sky, the helicopter contingent of the Loyalist assault had to be hastily called off and the majority of the fixed-wing aircraft involved were forced to ditch their bomb loads and instead to attempt to engage in air-to-air combat.  

"Alright," radioed Harrington as he gazed at the missile contrails criss-crossing the sky, "Charlie Company is good to go."

The three platoons of M1A3 tanks that made up the 1st Battalion's third company immediately sprung forward from their own concealed positions located several hundred feet forward of the position where Bravo Company held the I-70 from and opened fire on the retreating German tanks, scoring several hits from oblique angles that resulted in severe damage to the Leopards.  

First Army Headquarters, Near Bethune, CO

"The Germans are stalled at Flagler," reported Colonel Johal, First Army's G-3.

"I can read a fucking map," said General Walker.

"From what we can see," noted the Army's G-2, "pretty much the whole of the 1st Armored Division is stationed along the I-70.  They're trading shots with First Panzer, but it's going to take a lot more than a single German division to dislodge them."

"I thought," said Walker, turning to the senior Air Force officer in the headquarters, "that you said that their air capabilities were minimal."

"Those were the assessments that we received from the CIA," replied the Brigadier General, "though we noted that they were subject to change."

Walker moved over to the interactive maps that showed the location of every formation in the First Army, as well as the best information that they had as to the locations of the rebel forces, supposedly organized as the Sixth Army.

"1AD is their heaviest formation," said Walker, "and it looks to me like they're pretty much wholly arrayed along the I-70."

"A sensible enough disposition," observed the G-3, "they must have known that the First Panzer was our heaviest formation and that they'd have to stop it cold to prevent it from making a breakthrough.  They're probably hoping that we try and force our way down the I-70.  First Armored Division will fall back, but only after inflicting murderous losses upon our own forces."

"Well," said Walker, "then we're just going to have to find another damned way.  How fast can we re-position forces to the south?"

"The 42nd Division is moving along State Route 50."

"That's where the Canadian division is positioned?"

"Yes, General."

Walker tapped his fingers against the table.

"Our weakest formation against theirs.  But ours is bigger.  Tell them to go."

200th Infantry Division Headquarters, 36 Miles East of Pueblo, CO

Major General William Jackson calmly sipped a cup of coffee as, all around him, the Merkava Main Battle Tanks and M113 APCs of the 200th Infantry Division roared to life.  The joint American-Western Republic formation had been reluctantly accepted for service and arrived in Colorado, where it was assigned to the Sixth Army, just four weeks before the offensive by the Loyalist army had begun out of the east.

With the I-70 blocked by the First Armored Division, the main body of the First Army had begun to shift southwards, with the primary advance being undertaken by the 42nd Infantry Division, which had pretty good equipment drawn from National Guard stocks.  The seeming objective of the First Army, after having been blocked in its initial advance against Colorado Springs, was now seemingly to cut the city off by moving to both its south and north.  The First Infantry Division, made up primarily of new-entry volunteers, was moving to the north with the support of the French 1st Mechanized Brigade.

"You know," said Jackson as he reviewed the latest reports from the front, "the 42nd Division was designated as the "Rainbow" Division in the Great War because it was made up of National Guard elements from many different states.  Given the recruitment campaign those fuckers are running for this war, I think that it probably deserves that designation for different reasons."

"The problem that we have, General," pointed out Colonel Evan Dunford, Jackson's Chief of Staff, "is that they're still a full-strength formation with air support, whatever we think of their recruiting practices.  Nothing like what we faced at Thunder Bay."

"Oh, I know," said Jackson, "besides, even those people can fight.  Think about the Sacred Band of Thebes."

"General," said Dunford, trying to focus the attention of his commander, "they're less than ten miles away."

"I know that," said Jackson, checking his watch, "let them get a little bit closer."

42nd Infantry Division (AUS), Forty-Five Miles East of Pueblo, CO

Private Sarah Watkins felt the coarseness of the earth beneath her as the Stryker vehicle in which she was riding moved along the patch of battle-damaged highway.  

"Fuck!" she cursed as the vehicle rocked violently, leaving her feeling slightly ill.  With each bump she found herself just a little bit sicker and a little less certain of the decision that she had made a few months earlier.

A little late for second thoughts now, Sarah, she thought to herself as she gripped her M16A2 rifle close to her chest.  Even in the progressive Bryan Administration, she knew, there had been some people who had second thoughts about putting women into the infantry.  She, of course, had been entirely for it at the time.

She shook her head sadly.  She was supposed to be a teacher.  Right now she ought to have been in her classroom with her children, putting up decorations and singing songs – not hauling a rifle across frozen Colorado.  But she watched the news.  She posted comments.  She knew how much what was going on now meant to the future of the country and to her own personal future.  She had read and heard how the people who led the rebellion wanted to strip away the rights of women and minorities.  She knew that they were greedy people who were in life only for themselves.  She knew all of this because it was what they had taught her in school, what they said on television, and what – between all of the stuff about the most recent celebrity marriages – they said on all of the web sites that she visited.  That this characterization was at odds with the reality of pretty much every supporter of the rebels who she had met in real life was an uncomfortable reality that required a small act of doublethink to reconcile, something that Watkins, as a good progressive, was more than comfortable with.  

1st Battalion, Fourth BCT, 200th Infantry Division, Thirty-Nine Miles East of Pueblo, CO

The so-called "Congressional Provisional Battalion" had gone through a lot of changes since the days when it had fought inside and outside of the U.S. Capitol.  During the long move across the country, few people had known exactly what to do with the unit which, of course, had no formal place in the armed forces.  Additionally, many members of the unit had essential duties with the government that prevented them from becoming full-time members of the military.  Given this, the initial inclination of many had been to simply dissolve the unit and to allow its members to find their way into the military service by such means as they could find.

However, the supporters of that approach had underestimated the degree to which the stand of the volunteer soldiers of the CPB had made them heroes to the supporters of the rebellion.  Even if the members of Congress and their staffers who had fought in Washington had other work to do, there had been hundreds of ordinary citizens who had taken up arms alongside them.  Many of these were veterans with a higher-than-average skill level.  Given this – and the CPB's Praetorian International pedigree – it had been decided that the best possible approach would be for the unit to be combined with the similarly Praetorian-organized 200th Infantry Division.  Although the Army had insisted on assigning a number of regular officers to the unit, Jacob Henry had been awarded a direct commission as a Lieutenant Colonel and command of the newly christened 1st Battalion, 4th Brigade Combat Team, 200th Infantry Division.

The 1st Battalion was a mechanized infantry unit, armed with old M113 APCs pulled from a depot somewhere.  Its men had gone through official "re-introduction" training during the intervening months, and armed with standardized weapons.  They generally worked well with the rest of the 200th Division, sharing a common heritage as ideologically-motivated volunteer soldiers.

"Soldiers," said Colonel Henry as he walked among the men and women of 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, "the enemy is coming along that road any minute now.  They're stalled to the north along the I-70 and they think that that this is the soft underbelly of our position.  Well, let them think that.

"I know that this isn't your first experience of combat for most of you.  You know what to do and I trust that you will all do your duty.

"I just want to add one more thing.  They think they're taking the easy route.  We'll show them how wrong they are.  When they come, I want you to charge them and overrun them."

The Colonel began to walk away and then he suddenly stopped and turned around, a wicked grin on his face.

"One more thing: when you attack, I want you to yell like furies."

The Situation Room, The White House, Washington, DC

"Mr. President," said General Hall, making a deliberate effort to keep his voice calm and steady, "I think that we need to reconsider our orders to General Walker and the First Army."

"Why?" asked Bryan incredulously.

"This is an issue of operational tempo, Mr. President," said Hall. "Modern military operations – at least among regular combat units – move very fast and they use up a lot of fuel and munitions.  We simply are not set up to sustain the flow of munitions and other critical supplies all the way forward into Colorado for the time being.  Most the major arms caches in that region were either destroyed or fell into the hands of the rebels.  With the addition of the 1st Armored Division to the mix and with the rebel air force proving to be much more powerful that we had expected, we risk the destruction of the force that we have deployed in detail if we are forced to conduct a disorderly withdrawal."

"General Walker thinks that we can break their lines to the south, near Pueblo.  That will force the 1st Armored Division to engage in a mobile battle, which will make it far more vulnerable, and that we can then envelop the rebel position in Colorado Springs," pointed out Secretary Ransom.

"I am well aware of that, Mr. Secretary," said Hall, "but I must add that there are advantages and disadvantages to being the commander on the ground.  General Walker is looking for his best chance to win the battle in which he is engaged.  I am looking at the entire strategic picture that exists.  This is the major force-in-being that exists within the territory of the United States at the moment.  If it is wholly destroyed, there will be very little to prevent a rebel conquest of the whole of the country."

"General," said the President, "I tire of your pessimism.  The attack will go forward."

First Army Headquarters, Near Bethune, CO

"We've managed to move the 10th Mountain Division into position behind the 42nd.  We are attempting to move the French First Mechanized Brigade in that direction as well, but the re-routing of forces has produced some major traffic jams," reported the Army G-3.

"That's two divisions – perhaps three – against the one?" said General Walker.

"Yes, for the time being," said Colonel Johal, "but they could reposition several of their units."

"Not without taking away the reserves that exist to support the 1AD.  Or those units trying to stop the 1st Infantry Division in the north.  If they do, we'll shift our efforts to those fronts."

1st Battalion, Fourth BCT, 200th Infantry Division, Thirty-Nine Miles East of Pueblo, CO

"Here they come," said the Platoon Sergeant as he watched the approach of the 42nd Division's APCs through his field glasses.

"Hold off until we have a clear shot," ordered Second Lieutenant Christopher Sorensen, the commanding officer of the Second Platoon.  He had to raise his voice to be heard over the booms of the artillery fire of both sides.  Fortunately none of that fire had targeted his platoon so far.

The men and women of the platoon sat in silence, sweating and tightening their grips on their weapons, as the long line of APCs made their way down the highway.  The vehicles moved forward methodically, with gunners scanning for signs of the enemy at every possible step of the way.

Sorensen and the other soldiers waited until the range between them and the approaching APCs had closed to a little under two thousand meters.  Once that threshold was crossed, Sorensen nodded and the Second Platoon opened fire upon the M113s with their FGM-148 Javelin anti-tank guided missiles.

The missiles flew downrange in seconds and exploded against the weakly armored vehicles.  One of the vehicles was merely disabled, but the other three were victims of spectacular secondary explosions which utterly destroyed the vehicles.  Instantly, the survivors sped up in the direction of the platoon and opened fire with their own heavy machine guns.  The rear vehicles of the column dropped their rear doors and began to unload their own infantry.

Snipers assigned to the platoon opened fire upon the foot-bound infantry, sending bullets deep into human flesh and leaving bodies strewn across the ground.  The machine gun fire from the surviving APCs began to take a toll on the Second Platoon as the man next to Sorensen was struck by a bullet in the throat and dropped to the ground desperately grasping for air.  

A second wave of anti-tank missiles streaked towards the APCs and hit their targets, disabling two more of the vehicles.  However, firing the second round of missiles exposed the gunners themselves to long-distance rifle fire.  One of the two missile teams that managed to reload was killed outright while the other was forced to dive for cover.  

Sorensen and his men were forced to seek better cover as mortar rounds began to impact near their position, called in from some nearby battery.  At the same time, a rebel battery was called upon to use its own mortars in support of the Second Platoon, but the requirement for counter-battery fire meant that – at least for the time being – the platoon was on its own in its engagement with the enemy unit directly in front of it.

200th Infantry Division Headquarters, 36 Miles East of Pueblo, CO

"General," said Jackson over the phone as he spoke to Wallace Falcon, the Commander of the II Corps, "I'm telling you that they are coming this way in substantial numbers."

"General Jackson," said Falcon, "they're coming everywhere in substantial numbers.  The 1st Armored Division is engaged along the I-70.  They're holding off First Panzer, by the way, and the 101st is damned busy to the north, where there's a whole infantry division incoming."

"I realize that," said Jackson, "but they are attempting to make a breakthrough here.  Our own drones suggest that there's another division stacked right behind the one that we're fighting right now.  Probably 10th Mountain.  And the French force.  And the rest of their soldiers are out there somewhere.  They're coming on Soviet-style at the moment, with one echelon launching an assault and then leapfrogging the other."

"Look, Jackson: I know that you're used to fighting against Canadians, but there is nothing in what I have here that suggests that we need to allocate special resources for your sector.  You just need to make sure that you hold there."

"Yes, General," said Jackson, hanging up the phone before picking it up from the desk and throwing it against the wall.

"We are holding them, General," pointed out Colonel Dunford.

"Holding them isn't enough," said Jackson, "we have to utterly thrash them, otherwise they'll just keep on coming along in one wave after another."

"Corps is largely withholding air support for the north and the central fronts," pointed out Dunford.

"Falcon doesn't control everything," answered Jackson as he fished through his bag for his other phone.

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

Augustus King was rather busy when the call came through.

"Bill," he said, "what's up?"

"I need a favor," said General Jackson directly, "we're in this fighting out here in Colorado and the command is putting air support about in penny packets.  I'm not getting anywhere in trying to get some serious air support along my front, and I think that we can win this battle right here."

"Bill..." said King, "we're pretty busy here ourselves."

As he spoke, King watched as the staff at Central Command's headquarters hurried about issuing the orders that would lead to the execution of Operation Deluge, the long-planned all-out strike against all enemy forces across the Middle East.

"I know," said Jackson, "but there's not going to be any point to whatever the fuck you're planning over there if we don't win here first."

"Ok," said King, "e-mail me what you need and I'll do what I can."

"Quietly, King," said Jackson, "I may need to work with this command for a while."

"Got it," said King as he hung up the phone.

"How's it going over there?" asked General Mackenzie, who was standing nearby.

"I'm not sure.  Ask me again in a few hours," replied King, "where are we at here?"

"Almost everything that we have is in the air now.  We're going to hammer the fucking Islamists with everything that we've got.  And the rest of it is already in progress."

1st Battalion, 77th Armor Regiment, Near Flagler, CO

The 1st Battalion was now engaged in positional warfare with its German opponents.  Charlie Company's swing up from the road had been the last move to really catch the 1st Panzer Division off-balance, as the half-dozen mangled Leopard 2s now burning (along with the crews) along the I-70 could attest.  The tanks on both sides were in almost continuous motion, with one unit moving to fire and then the other either withdrawing or moving for a better firing position against their attackers.  The two units were simply too evenly matched.  

Colonel Harrington watched as an Abrams raced by and fired its main gun, before reversing and pulling back.  At the same time, a pair of anti-tank missiles flew on by and ineffectually impacted against the ground.

"We're going to need to pull off the line pretty damned soon at the present rate of ammunition and fuel expenditure," noted the Battalion S-3.

"Negative," responded Harrington, "we've been ordered to hold this portion of the line.  Anyways, the Germans have to be in pretty much the same position.  Have you ever seen Patton?  If we have to, we'll fight it out hand-to-hand."

The Colonel shuddered involuntarily as a round impacted a nearby tank, striking a non-lethal blow that was largely deflected by the armor of the Abrams.

United Nations Emergency Operations Headquarters, Tel Aviv, State of Israel

Lieutenant General Avigdor Aronov's face held a wider smile than it had in years as he watched a unit of Sayeret Matkal commandos break down the door of the United Nations' headquarters in nuclear-ravaged Tel Aviv.  The year since the Iranian nuclear attack had devastated both Tel Aviv and Haifa had been the hardest of his life.  Not only had hundreds of thousands of his countrymen perished, but the ensuing political chaos had led to the effective subjugation of the Israeli nation.  The quisling politicians who formed the unelected post-war government of Israel were, in the opinion of Aronov and every other real Israeli, not even worth the effort of pissing on.  

The real purpose of Operation Deluge, as was now being carried out across the whole of the Middle East, was to bolster the position of the allies of the United States to such a degree as would allow the American forces there to be extracted and to return home without leaving the entire region in the hands of hostile powers.  As a major part of that operation, American, Kuwaiti, Iraqi, and Saudi Arabian aircraft were hammering Islamist targets across the Middle East without any restraint whatsoever.  However, the ultimate operational objective would only be counted as achieved if there were stable governments left behind to manage the chaos afterwards.  That meant, Aronov and his followers knew, that the government of the State of Israel would have to be placed into different hands.

The aged General looked carefully at the speech he was to deliver as soon as the deed was done.

People of Israel, your nation is re-born...

A loud explosion shook the building that housed the UN bureaucrats who had dared to attempt to impose an unjust settlement upon Israel, as well as the cowardly politicians who had attempted to retreat to the protection of their international friends as soon as what was happening had become evident.  The negligible value of that protection was well-demonstrated by the two-dozen Blue Helmet-wearing Belgian soldiers whose corpses were strewn around the perimeter of the UN compound.

Aronov's radio crackled to life.

"General, the building is secure."

"Very good.  Losses?" asked Aronov.

"None on our side.  Some on the other," answered the Israeli commando before adding, "oh, and the American representative who demanded that the old government declare a Palestinian state – Archer – was unfortunately accidentally shot eight times in the head during the confusion."

"Ah.  A pity."

First Army Headquarters, Near Bethune, CO

"We need to throw in the French mechanized brigade first," said Colonel Johal, "have them pass through the 10th Mountain's lines and launch the attack against the 200th Infantry Division now."

"But the 10th is ready to attack," objected General Walker.

"Yes," admitted Johal, "but the division out in front of Pueblo is proving to be tougher than we thought.  So are our soldiers, but it's just becoming a big confused infantry fight out there and adding more infantry to that mix isn't going to help.  We need intense armor and air support."

"Why not have them swing back to the centre and join the fight between 1st Armor and 1st Panzer?  That might be enough to tip the scales there, given the latest status reports.  Especially if we concentrate our air assets."

"We're running out of daylight.  Our best chance to crack their position is to the south, right here," said Johal, pointing to the strung out positions of the 200th Infantry Division.

"Alright," conceded Walker, "cut the orders."

1st Battalion, Fourth BCT, 200th Infantry Division, Thirty-Eight Miles East of Pueblo, CO

Christopher Sorensen raised his M16A2 rifle to his shoulder and fired two three-round bursts at the approaching infantryman and then dived to the ground.

"Fuck!" he muttered as he fumbled for another magazine.  He hadn't even seen if he'd hit the guy.

The opposing 42nd Infantry Division was fighting an extremely aggressive battle, using careful fire-and-advance tactics to attempt to put maximum pressure on the defending 200th Division.  They were paying a heavy price in terms of soldiers' lives for doing it, but they were gradually chewing up the primary force that defended the southern route to Colorado Springs and, in so doing, would eventually disfigure the whole defensive position of the rebel forces.

With a new magazine in place, Sorensen popped back up and continued to fire against the Loyalist position just a few hundred feet away.  One of his rounds clipped an attacking soldier just above the eye, tearing away a chunk of flesh and sending him dropping to the ground dead.  

"Second Platoon," his radio came to life, "withdraw to the next position."

"Fuck!" he shouted as he dropped to one knee and fired another burst at the stream of attackers who seemed to simply refuse to stop coming.

Temporary Seat of the United States Government, Cheyenne Mountain, CO

"The balance is still uncertain," Secretary of Defense Mark Preston briefed the Acting President as 5PM approached.

The map displayed on the wall changed to show the latest troop dispositions.

"It appears that the enemy advance is coming along three major fronts.  In the center, the German 1st Panzer Division is engaged by the 1st Armored Division.  That has become a stalemate.  In the north, the 1st Infantry Division – that's a new government formation – is fighting the 101st Airborne.  The Airborne is actually winning that one pretty clearly.  And the fight in the south has become vicious.  One inexperienced unit against the other."

"But," pointed out the President, "if this continues, the tie goes to the Bryan Administration, does it not?"

"Well," said Preston, "there are other options.  Certainly, they'd have us in a pretty ugly position here in Colorado and the West, as we'd be sandwiched between states that they control on both sides.  Resupply and rearming would be a problem.  We'd still hold the South, though."

"They're already calling us the Confederacy 2.0," said Rickover, "I don't think our case that we aren't – that we are the legitimate government of the United States – will be helped if we only control states that belonged to the Confederate States of America."

"Certainly not," agreed Michael Nelson.

"And we also have our forces in the Middle East, even if they are tied down there," said Preston before adding, "though hopefully not for long."

"How do we win?" finally asked Rickover.

"We put everything into this fight," said Preston, "and I think we make that fight on the southern front.  Put everything in, including the reserves."

"Are you sure?" said the Acting President, "that's not what the Joint Chiefs were recommending fifteen minutes ago."

"I have confidence in General Jackson," said Preston simply.

200th Infantry Division Headquarters, 36 Miles East of Pueblo, CO

"I would call the 4th BCT combat ineffective at this point," said Colonel Dunford as he reviewed the latest results from the front with General Jackson.

"Damaged, to be sure," replied Jackson, "but I think that they still have some fight in them.  Scattered and shattered pieces can still cut."

"The first two brigades of the 42nd appear to be pretty cut up as well, though," noted Dunford as he continued to review the latest real-time reports from the front.

A Major on the Division staff charged into the Jackson's office.

"General," he said, "the 81st Brigade has arrived."

General Jackson smiled.

"When logic and reason fail, Colonel," he said to Dunford, "there's always politics."

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

"The damage from the strikes looks pretty extensive," noted Major General Fredrick Kahn, commander of the Fourth Infantry Division, as they reviewed the latest footage from the Middle East-wide strikes against military targets.

"Yep," said Mackenzie, "I don't think that the Egyptian military is going to be making trouble for a long while.  Their Air Force is pretty much just gone now."

"We have near-complete destruction of the insurgent camps around Qom, too," noted Kahn.

"Aronov did his part in Israel," said another officer, gesturing towards the muted TV.

"Now we just have to worry about the Russians," said another.

"I think that we have a solution for that," said Mackenzie quietly.

The officer looked at him quizzically.  Mackenzie looked around the room and, after pausing for a moment, decided that there was no real reason to hold the secret back any longer.

"We captured the remaining Iranian nuclear weapons.  We've given them to the Saudis and the Israelis until the Israelis can get their own weapons program rebuilt.  I don't think that the Russians are going to mess with that.  Especially because we've kept some as well."

"General Mackenzie," another officer interrupted the conversation, "you have an urgent message from the USS Spruance."

"The Navy?  What's happened at sea?"

"Sir," said the Captain, "they report that they're being signalled by the Chinese Carrier Liaoning, at the head of a convoy of nearly a hundred ships.  They're asking for permission to come ashore at Bandar Abbas."

1st Battalion, Fourth BCT, 200th Infantry Division, Thirty-Five Miles East of Pueblo, CO

From his command post, Colonel Henry surveyed the wreckage of his battalion.  For the last six hours the whole unit had been engaged in close-quarter combat with multiple units of equivalent size.  At the absolute most, half of his soldiers were still capable of shouldering their rifles.  The battalion had fallen back from one position after another, making the enemy pay a price in blood for every yard of ground that they claimed.

Now, after so much blood had already been shed, the order had come down from the division commander: no further withdrawals were to occur.

Stand or die, thought Henry bitterly, well, there's not much chance we'll succeed at the former.  But we'll do the latter brilliantly.

Given the inflexibility of his orders, the Colonel reflected, there was little need for him to remain at his command post.  He would do more good under these conditions at the front.  He grabbed his helmet and rifle and, beckoning a few staffers to follow him, headed out the door.

Half a mile down the road from the battalion CP, Henry found the survivors of the Second Platoon, Bravo Company.

"Lieutenant," he said as he returned the salute of the young officer, "what's the situation here?"

"We're out of ammo.  Everyone is freezing.  And we're hungry.  It's really all good, Colonel," replied Christopher Sorensen.

Henry nodded.

"I hope that you won't mind if I join you here," he said.

"Not at all sir.  I just hope that you and your friends brought your own weapons," replied Sorensen.

Over Fowler, CO

Alison Miller, even with the help of whatever mess of pills the flight medic had given her, was having trouble keeping her eyes open.  There hadn't been time for adequate pre-flight briefings.  Instead, she – and every other damned pilot that could be scrounged up – and been re-fuelled, re-armed, and hastily thrown into the air with the stated objective of sweeping the air clean of opposing force aircraft.

Her F-16C, along with the seven others of her squadron that were operational, was now racing towards the forward edge of the battle area at supersonic speeds.  Craning her neck to sneak a peak, she saw a sky that appeared to be filled by aircraft whose outlines could just barely be made out through the fading sun.  

Trying to figure out who was who, amidst all of the confusion, was impossible.  All that she and the other pilots could do was to fire their missiles one after another at the incoming aircraft and hope and pray that they belonged to the enemy forces.

1st Battalion, Fourth BCT, 200th Infantry Division, Thirty-Five Miles East of Pueblo, CO

From the ground Colonel Henry and Lieutenant Sorensen watched as the sky filled with a vast array of diverse explosions.  

"I wonder who's winning," mused Sorensen.

"I don't know if there are any winners here," said Henry sadly.

Henry pressed his radio to his ear and tried to sort of the various radio calls to at least figure out a little of what was going on.

Finally, after an eternity, a call came through clean.

"Arc Light, Arc Light."

200th Infantry Division Headquarters, 30 Miles East of Pueblo, CO

"Fuck yes!" shouted General Jackson as he watched the vast array of gravity bombs dropped by a whole squadron of B-52s light up the night with a series of rapid-fire explosions that took on a firecracker-like appearance from a distance.

"Jesus," whispered Dunford, contemplating the fact that each of the hundreds of explosions he was viewing represented anywhere from five hundred to two thousand pounds of high explosives being dropped upon human beings.

"Guam," said Jackson, answering the unasked question, "flew all the way over Alaska, down across British Columbia, and all the fucking way to here.  I think the folks on the other side forgot about Guam."

1st Battalion, Fourth BCT, 200th Infantry Division, Thirty-Five Miles East of Pueblo, CO

As soon as the last of the bombs dropped by the B-52 strike detonated, Colonel Henry stood and picked up his radio.

"All units, attack," he ordered into the radio before grabbing his rifle and turning to face the remains of the two platoons that had gathered around him.  He pointed at the tanks of the 81st Brigade, already moving past the infantry and towards the front lines.

"Those are our men, here to back us up," he said, "let's go and give them a hand!"

He then turned and, without a further word, began to move at a trot towards the sound of the fighting.  The survivors of the day's fighting followed him instinctively, falling in behind their own individual leaders.

The soldiers picked up momentum as they moved forward.  With the sun having set, they found themselves moving through near-total darkness, guided largely by the sound and fire of the guns ahead of them.  As they finally approached the enemy position, Colonel Henry charged forward, firing his rifle and letting loose a sound that no one had ever thought they'd hear on American soil under such circumstances again: the Rebel Yell.

U.S. Central Command Forward Headquarters, Jerusalem

"What the fuck?" said General Mackenzie after a long pause as soon as he and Augustus King entered his private office.

"Well," said King, "basically, we sold Iran and Iraq to China."

"Sold?" said Mackenzie incredulously.

"We're playing for keeps here, General," said King, "and it was never going to be merely enough to empower the Israelis and the Saudis.  In fact, what we really wanted to empower them to do was to resist the Chinese.  But, if we're going to save America then we need a lot of things.  We need ships.  We need bombs.  We need bullets.  The dollar is pretty much worthless.  We had to buy them with something."

"That's not the kind of thing that Americans do!" shouted the General, his face turning red as he got up and walked around the room, sweeping aside his uniform jacket.

"Do you know how many Americans have bled and died so that we could give freedom to those people?" said Mackenzie.

"I do, General," replied King, "I might remind you that I was one of those soldiers."

"...and what?  You flew to Shanghai or Beijing or wherever, and you sat down with a map and said to the Chinese that you'd trade them the freedom of a hundred million people for a few shiploads worth of bombs and spare parts?"

"It came rather more dearly than that," said King.

"That's not the kind of thing that Americans do," said Mackenzie.

"No, General," said King, "that's the kind of thing that Americans need to do now.  I bled to liberate those Iraqis and, God willing, someday we will make certain that they are free again.  I don't know how, but I'd be for it.  But I know what's at stake today.  If we lose liberty in America today, then it's over.  It's not just truncated or reduced: it's over.  Perhaps for now.  Perhaps for a thousand years.  Maybe forever."

"Perhaps you can't live with that reality," continued King, "but I can.  I can and will sacrifice everything – everything in the entire world – so that we can preserve liberty at home.  That means making hard choices and living with them.  Perhaps it is and shall be the case that those who can make those hard decisions won't be the ones who actually get to enjoy the future of freedom.  But perhaps we'll be allowed to step to the edge of the promised land and peek inside."

General Mackenzie sighed deeply.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We pack up.  Then we go home and liberate America."

The Situation Room, The White House, Washington, DC

"General Walker reports that he is ordering a withdrawal across the whole front," reported General Hall.

"Why?" snapped President Bryan.

"The rebel bombing assault broke both the 42nd Division as well as the French unit that was attempting to pass through its lines," said Hall quietly, "they can't possibly hope to break through now.  And, furthermore, the 1st Division in the north is pretty badly shattered – they hadn't expected to face an Airborne Division."

"Fucking cowards," the President slammed his fist against the table, "motherfuckers!"

"Mr. President..." said Secretary Ransom.

"The attack will continue," emphasized the President.

"It just isn't possible, sir," said the Defense Secretary, "I have to concur with General Hall and General Walker."

The President didn't say a single further word.  Instead, he got up and walked out of the room, leaving his advisors behind in an uncomfortable silence.  Finally, the Secretary of Defense spoke up.

"I think," he said, "we have to consider what kind of leadership will be needed to get us to the other side of this."

United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, CO

Acting President Terrance Rickover was glad to be outdoors.  In the month since the Battle of Colorado had been fought, the Loyalist forces had been forced to fall all the way back to Illinois.  This had allowed the government of the United States to emerge from its secure facility at Cheyenne Mountain and begin the long process of reconnecting with the American people.

"There's so much still to do," said Michael Nelson as they walked the grounds of the Air Force Academy, now converted into office space for the Federal Government, "this is supposed to be an election year.  Hell, they're holding a New Hampshire primary right now – whatever that means under these conditions."

"Yes," said Rickover, "we'll have to make sure elections take place and all of that."

"It's one thing for us to have survived," said Nelson, "but we still control, at the most, half of the country."

"In the Revolution," said Rickover, "only about a third of the people supported the cause."

"Four thousand six hundred and two," said Nelson quietly.

"Hmmm?" replied Rickover.

"That's the latest estimate of how many people died in the fighting here in Colorado.  How many will die before this is over?  How many lives is it worth?"

"I don't know," said Rickover, "I just know that we were presented with a choice between freedom and slavery and we made a choice.  I don't regret the one I made.  Do you regret yours, Michael?"

"No," admitted the House Majority Leader.

"Well," said the Acting President, "then we can't dwell upon the cost.  We didn't choose that.  The people who presented us with the impossible choice made that decision for us and for future generations.  Our great task now is to ensure that liberty is assured to all Americans.  This fight will not be over until all of America is liberated.  And then, when that is done, we will remind the entire world of who we are and what we're for because, if there's anything that we will gain from this experience, it is that we are going to have to relearn that for ourselves."

"And how are we going to do that?" asked Nelson.

"Simple," said Rickover, "we fight and we keep on fighting so long as there's something worth fighting for."

About the Author

Adam Teiichi Yoshida is a columnist and blogger whose work has been published in multiple forums, including the National Post, Washington Times, Insight Magazine, and The American Thinker.  He is the author of "The Blast of War", "A Land War in Asia", and "A Thousand Points of Light", which have been collected as "The Third World War: A Narrative History."