by James Drew
Heiman Ramses watches Vaughn Manatee’s spin report worried his spin won’t get him much further. Vaughn denies credit for hoisting Ramses well into a fifth term. The other networks blame Vaughn for his additional three terms and the fall of Democracy. They call Rameses the most dangerous world leader since Mussolini. In this new disinformation age, they only survive such accusations for the fact they no longer report the news from the United States. While Eagle News, the once far right conservative outlet reports from New York City, The more progressive medias report from their studios in Hollywood California. The President calls them secessionist. Both sides call themselves the United States. No one has suggested seceding the UN. The only things both Eagle News and the Free Speech networks agree upon is there can and should only be one United States and that war is the only way to reunify the continent.
“What does civil war look like to you in Hollywood in a country littered blue and red?” Manatee asks rhetorically. Most of his interviews are rhetorical.
“Blue and red.” Kaela Hammond of Free Press News answers. “You know that don’t you?”
“Wrong! The war will be fought between the right and the wrong not the right and the left. The war will be fought between the…”
“…the people and Wall Street!” She roars.
“Yes of course, the cause of the left, fighting for the destitute while our great nation fights for order.”
“Order? This country is on the brink of civil war. Ramses is practically calling for it. I’m not even sure you could call last November an election.”
“Case in point! The whole country is red! The parties are finally united. All that remains standing against unity are spin monsters like you claiming to be the voice of freedom. Well ladies and gentlemen, that’s all we have for today’s program, stay turned for the Spin Zone, only on Eagle news, your eye for freedom.”
“That fucker hung up on me.” Amy throws off her head set as her producer, Flint laughs.
“Good ole Hanky Panky.”
“Damn prick.”
“Could have gone worse.”
“Mark my words, Flint. It will.”
“Ever think about running for office?” There is an awkward silence as they both try to decide if he’s joking. She decides he’s joking.
“Hell no! I’d get shot my first day in the White House or wherever the President on our side is going to live.”
“You really think there is going to be a civil war don’t you.”
“That’s one issue I agree with the president. There needs to be, but I don’t think we’ll start it.”
“You’re not saying the President is going to sick the US Army on the American people?”
“He broke up the Seattle race riots with an air strike. I wouldn’t put it beneath him.”
“What about the National Guard?”
“Depends who’s leading it I guess. Most of the country agrees this presidency is this country’s first regime, but the Pentagon is in DC and God bless our soldiers, but they’ve brainwashed this generation.”
The past few summers have been relatively cool in New York State. The weather has been pretty mild year-round, but something feels different today. Phillip Kurtwood is a security guard leading into the Wall Street trading complex. The air smells to him of nitrates as if a lightning storm is about to strike. Suddenly a cackle of screams breaks out. The stock ticker shatters as papers scatter.
“Thus fall tyrants!” A man declares as a lightning bolt strike the roof at the center of the building. Those unable to escape are crushed under tons of ceiling, many are barbecued.
Kurtwood is in a daze and his ears are ringing. There must have been a gas explosion. Whatever the man said sounded familiar but he was pretty sure it was in Latin so he couldn’t be sure. He doesn’t have much time to gather himself as gun fire erupts only a few blocks away. Does he dare pick up a gun. There are plenty holstered on the hips of dead police officers. He has extensive training from his time in Iraq and Afghanistan, but he was practically a kid since he dared pick up a gun.
“Sand niggers are at it again.” His disorientation is replaced by anger and PTSD driven hatred. Upholstering a dead policeman’s gun from his belt Phillip pushes into the smoke toward the gunfire. Bullets cut red through smoke glowing as if through the darkness of night. Civilians fall face first, while some stumble for a hit to the calves and feet. Emerging from the smoke he joins a line of US Army soldiers losing ground to whomever is firing.
“We fall back into that smoke we’re dead!” A Captain yells. “Push back dammit!”
“Who’s attacking us?” Phillip screams over the deafening onslaught.
“Rebels!”
“What?”
“We’re at war son!”
“Since when?”
“Since now!”
“This is Wall Street, not Fort Sumter! Who the hell is converging on…” He remembered something he’d heard on the news.
“It’s those fags in Hollywood! Just point and shoot if you’re just going to stand there!”
In the distance Kurtwood notices one that the rebels are and but in military uniform. Secondly, he notices cameras hoisted onto soldiers of men just to the north of the battle lines. The US Army is fighting back against a surprise attack on American soil and its all being video taped. Something doesn’t smell right.
“You have the tools, Manatee. Your country is depending on you.” President Ramses hangs up the phone in the Oval Office with a rare grin on his face, stroking his bald, bronze head in satisfaction. Wall Street will be his war’s Fort Sumter, then soon the country.
“The President called me in himself.” Vaughn tells his aid as they rush through the Eagle News studio. “He told me to earn my pay today.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Yes Mr President.” He smiles as he finalizes his headset and Bluetooth knowing that when he does this right, he will be able to rebuild and own a new Wall Street. “There’s an election coming up after all.”
Taking his seat behind his desk, images of the battle and the chaos flooding and expanding through New York City streets plays in cycles on the screens behind him.
“On in three, two, one.”
“I’m Vaughn Manatee of Eagle News. This is a dark day in America. Even as I sit behind my desk a battle wages only blocks away. Reports are sketchy so far, but the President and NYS Governor are declaring a State of Emergency. Some fear an eminent declaration of war and we all dread its implications.”
The United States citizenry is the most heavily armored in the world. Any gun owner who claims they haven’t wanted this all their lives is lying to themselves. Finally, a chance to use that expensive arsenal sitting in closets and basements across the country.
“Do we have any idea who perpetrated the Wall Street attacks? Do we suspect it to be foreign or domestic.” Manatee asks the senior officer on the scene, like Kurtwood a veteran from the Iraqi and Afghan wars.
“We haven’t captured anyone but what we can say is they’re wearing some kind of uniform.”
“Could this be an attack from a secessionist cell, as my colleague Kaela Hammond predicted?”
“Well, to be honest, in my opinion, no one has suggested seceding. I just hope we don’t jump into anything without gathering all the facts.”
“So, you don’t think this is a prelude to civil war?”
“To be honest, as much as I think some would like to think, I don’t see how or why. Wall Street isn’t a military target.”
“What about the claim that someone heard someone yell, Sic simper tyrannis?”
“I haven’t heard anything about that, but I’ve been quite busy fighting for my life.”
Ramses slams his fist on the desk, having dropped his feet from off of it. Ranting like a wild man he summons an aid.
“This man is not cooperating!” The faceless, insignificant White House aid doesn’t know how to respond because he has no idea what’s going on. The President sighs quietly, realizing what the problem is. He reaches into a drawer, pulls out a gun and shoots the aid in the chest. Before the aid lands on his back and dead secret service agents are in the Oval Office.
They don’t know what to do either. The aid is unarmed so there was no assassination attempt.
“What are you both looking at.” They both shake their head not sure how else to answer.
“Call the press. An attempt has been made on the President’s life.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police sir?”
“Sure.” The President turns around, raising the volume on the TV. “Degenerate.” The President knows two things about what just happened and why he did it. One, he just shot an openly gay Hispanic man. Two, as the President, whatever he says happened, happened.
“This just in…” Ramses smiles realizing this is Vaughn’s chance to deliver. “There has been an attempt made upon the President’s life in the Oval Office. Word from the secret service that the attempt was made by a disgruntled openly gay White House aid.”
“What the hell does the assassin’s sexuality have to do with the attempt on the President’s life?” Amy’s producer flings a hand in bewildered disgust.
“With the attack on Wall Street there is discussion regarding the reckless reporting of the far-left media.”
“Kaela! We need to get you out of here!” A man in army gear says as the control room door falls to the floor
“Who are you?”
“Don’t ask questions! You need to come with…” The man is blown apart as the wall falls to the ground before Amy.
“What the…” With her ears still ringing her eyesight turns dark for a hood thrown over her head. She’s dragged into the street, flanked by hooded soldiers on and off their knees providing cover fire as she is loaded into a humve. The last thing Flint sees is the shell fired toward them from a tank coming over the hill at the end of the street. Kaela never sees Flint’s head and limbs separate, each going their separate ways.
“Listen! I know what it looks like, but I had nothing to do with the Wall Street attacks.”
“We know. We have nothing against you. We’re actually here to save your ass. The Feds, well Ramses is after your ass. You’re the new Osama Bin Laden lady.”
“What are you, the rebels?”
“There are no rebels. No one said anything about secession. That’s the President’s pet word. The Militia is gathering and preparing for coordinated attacks on specific army bases. The President is about to declare war on California, but the Texas Militia has a surprise for them.”
“Isn’t Texas the most conservative State in the Union.”
“Conservative doesn’t necessarily mean unhinged, bigoted ignorant asshole. We know better than anyone that the government has been fingering Wall Street for the past twenty years. There is so much more going on than even the media realizes. Well actually, Free Speech News is boarder line naïve.”
“Why did the street and building just explode?” She asks frantically beneath the mask.
“This is going on all over the country. Witnesses are saying a massive lightening bolt blew the Wall Street building away. We think the president had troops waiting and ready.”
“Waiting for what?”
“The National Guard. Like I said, we’re way ahead of you. The President can’t sick the military on its own people. The National Guard deals with threats like this.”
“How is it the National Guard was ready? How did they know?”
“We’ve had a man on the inside since Ramses’ third term. The militia and the National Guard are the President’s new rebels. There are no North verses South; no Confederate verses Union, its every man for himself until someone unifies the people against this monster.”
“So, if there’s no north, south, east or west who is fighting against who?”
‘That’s where you come in. This isn’t a matter of one or two states against another. This could literally come down to neighbor against neighbor. You’re heading down to Texas with us where we can get you safely in front of a camera. I’m sure the President will declare war anytime now but its moot. Battles are breaking out all over the country. Right now, no one is sure who is shooting at who. All the President has to do is draft any who choose not to fight. We have no President, so it will be up to you.”
Camera lights flash as the President stands at the press podium.
“This is the most difficult decision I’ve made in the past twenty-four years as your President. My presidency started with the first attack in seventy years on US soil on September 11th 2001. I lead this country to victory over the petty terrorists and all their Muslim allies. To this day there is not a single mosk left in plain sight anywhere in the country. In a matter of years my administration laid waste a subversive subculture. We’ve long since stopped arguing about silly notions like gay marriage and put a stop to immigration. America is finally for Americans.
Unfortunately, the rewards of our convictions have not touched those less educated. They wish to divide our union and set us back nearly 200 years. I will not let this happen. I will not allow this country to splinter into backwards socialist fragments and set back all we have sacrificed to build. As of today I’ve order US Troops to converge on cities along the west coast and all those known to sympathize with the secessionist rounded up for reeducation. I have no choice but to declare this country in a state of Civil War. For their own safety I ask that anyone who does not need to leave their home to stay inside them and out of the way. The country is under a state of martial law, and anyone caught violating any of the soon to be posted regulations will either be shot or subject to interrogation.”
“I’m Kaela Hammond of Free Speech News. I come to you now from an undisclosed location as a vicious assault by Rames’ armed forces laid waste to Hollywood. Civil War has been declared and anyone in disagreement with Dictator Haiman Ramses is to be labeled a rebel. This is a different civil one than the one between the Union and Confederacy a century and a half ago. There are no battle lines. There are no longer political issues as America has long since gone silent. The President tried to silence our network as he’s silenced you the people of this once great nation. Twenty-five years ago, Rameses promised to make us moral again. Twenty-four years later we are at war. With the distruction of Wall Street our dollar is worthless. Now the only people with any property are fighting on their own land, torn from their homes by angry mobs erupting all over. New York City and Los Anglos have burned since before the civil war was declared. This is no longer about politics or race; this war will be about freedom not from slavery but from the tyranny of one evil man. I am not Kaela Hammond of Free Speech News. That network was destroyed. I plead to you the people to realize that wherever the battle lines are drawn that America has no leader. If we don’t stand up to this man our enemies will descend upon us like vultures. What we need is not civil war but insurrection and only the people can do that.
November 2, 2024 has passed with no election. The army is truly the property of Ramses and America is in bed with the resurrected USSR under Putin. The National Guard and US Militia has set up camp in Huston, Texas, San Francisco California with engagements anywhere from Bozeman, Montana, to Wichita, Kansas City, and Birmingham Alabama. Fortunately for the National Guard and the Texas militia, even with the USSR on his side Ramses is fighting a war on two fronts. Great Britain has been bombing bases as far east as Boston and Miami and as far west as Columbus Ohio. Ramses’ forces are grouped on the Eastern half of the US while the National Guard and Texas Militia pushes from the west to the east. The Insurrectionists want two things. They aren’t after cities. Their goal is to take Haiman Rameses and Vaughn Manatee, drag them out onto the White House lawn and shoot them handcuffed in the back of the head.
Fighting between British, Rameses and Putin air-forces have left New York City in ruins. Lady Liberty stands headless surrounded by planes and pilots floating in the river. Ramses has built a special building in Washington DC where stock trading has resumed now under his and Eagle News’ vigilant supervision.
Battle lines converge in a small suburb of Wichita, Kansas calls Haysville. Kaela Hammond hides in a slowly collapsing Walmart as British choppers clear a hole in the center of Ramses line. Signaling her camera man, they emerge as crouching solders and Militia push east. A Russian chopper swoops in, punching a hole into insurrectionist lines. Militia close the center and the attack continues east driven by a hailstorm of bazooka and machine gun fire.
“Ramses just took Kansas City!” Kaela’s military issued phone reports. “Shit!”
“We’ll get it back!” Captain Shawn Fresco, a tall black former Texas state trooper answers confidently. While changing magazines. “We started in Texas and have taken the Western half of the United States!” A man shreds to his left as bullets penetrate Kevlar, spewing blood into Kaela’s eyes and splattering her camera lenses. She looks back to the broken Walmart she’d hid in to watch it succumb to a bomb.
“It’s awful hot out here even for central Kansas.” She says as her face reddens from the flames erupting from the gas lines and sewage beneath the streets.
“It’s like this everywhere darling! The whole country is burning!”
At forty-two years old Kaela looks back fondly at the good old 1990s. Bill Clinton was the countries last President. The economy was booming, social and political progress was flowing smoothly, music was still poetic, and we took our dates to movies worth watching. She was raised conservative but voted for Al Gore in the 2000 election. Freedom News conceded to Ramses victory though it was suspicious of the first election. With Afghanistan a glass plate and Sodom Hussane’s regime brought down by the end of 2001 it was a pretty straight line to a second term despite Rameses controversial decision to nuke Afghanistan in search of Osama Bin Ladin and Iraqi cities in search of Sodom Hussane. Kaela strongly disagreed with Ramses and his followers and even joined protesters as she studied journalism in 2004.
Kaela looked forward to November 2008. The banks and government had become too intertwined for her comfort. As she started young at Free Speech News, Vaughn Manatee’s career then the age that she is in 2024 was constantly floating the idea of a third term against Senator Barack Obama. Obama ran a successful campaign against Ramses but was shot through the neck only days before election Tuesday. With the Democratic Party in disarray the elections were suspended but not resumed. Ramses snuck in a third term. He rose with his followers, his rhetoric and his bloated stock shares. By 2016 Kaela stopped voting and the entire country’s electoral map remained red to this day.
In 2017 Hispanics, Mexican or Puerto Rican were rounded up, children separated from their families and sent across the Mexican boarder. By that time Kaela had become something of a minor political pendant and restrained her need to rant against Ramses and his cronies. Ramses and his pet at Eagle News blamed the demolished economy upon illegals immigration while the one percent diminished to the half a percent and now in 2024, just Ramses.
That is the nutshell of the past two decades from Kaela’s perspective. She looks back to her teenage years and legitimately can’t believe this is the United States of America. Before this year the country only burned down socially and financially. Now it is literally burning down. The question burning in Kaela’s mind that hasn’t occurred to anyone else is if Ramses will drop The Bomb on an American city.
“I’m Kaela Hammond of Free Speech News and I’m at the front lines of a battle raging just outside of Wichita Kansas!”
“Easy company, I want heavy artillery on that Russian tank line. Able pushes down the center, Charlie and Dog hit Rameses flanks with everything you got! Balls to the wall boys!” A major orders as Shawn signals to his own men to follow orders.
“This is Item company; we’re pinned in at the Wilma Miller Mall. We cannot hold the fort for much longer, requesting immediate air support!”
“This is Kaela Hammond for Free Speech News continuing coverage from the front line in Wichita Kansas. As you can see in the background…” A mortar detonates right behind her as soldiers are thrown around and maimed. “We apologize for the disturbing imagery, but we feel it necessary for the public to see the cost and necessity of this conflict. Remember that it was President Ramses that declared war upon his own people!” A flood of soldiers rush behind her pulling her and her camera man along with her. “As you can see the ebb and flow of battle is pushing mostly east along this front. I’ve just heard radio chatter that the Wilma Miller Mall just east of Hazevill Kansas that the insurrectionists have been using as a fort is on the verge of being overrun and destroyed.” Kaela presses some icons on her communications watch calling up an image of her battered colleague. “Switching over to Jeremy Holstein on the sight of the crumbling mall.”
“Yes Kaela, as you can see there is fighting in the corridors of the mall.” Men are slaughtered on national TV. What could only happen with special affects and for entertainment six months earlier is now tastelessly regular on Cable News. “I’m hearing talk about destroying whatever this company can’t take with them and prevent Ramses and Russian forces from using the mall as a base themselves.” The ground shakes, showing Kaela and the viewers the quake and white powder scattering across the floor. “I’m not sure what this is. I’m not sure if this white substance is just the mall’s construction material or…” The reporter’s eyes turn beat read along with his neck. He coughs, violently expelling blood. His eyes burst and the camera’s glass shatters.”
“Captain!” She grabs Captain Russell Hereinto by the arm. “Ramses has taken the Mall. Some sort of gas killed our reporter and whatever did so was powerful enough to shatter the camera.” The captain looks to the camera, dropping his expression solemnly.
“It’s a chemical weapon. They’re turning it on bases along the front lines. Word is they used it on Kansas City.”
“Is there anything the insurrectionist can do to deter the use of these weapons?”
“We’ll have to develop something worse.” He answers looking directly at the camera.
The fighting quiets around her. Aside from some rifle cackling only anti-aircraft fire can be seen in the distance.
“Ramses and Russian forces are in retreat. We’ve taken the battlefield.” Russ’ radio buzzes.
“Fine. Seattle in for tonight. We’ll resume fighting in the morning- over.”
“Ten-four.”
The captain turns to Kaela, ready to fall over.
“Are you fucking crazy? This is possibly one of the most savage conflicts since World War One. What are you doing here.”
“Imagine how the first civil war may have turned out had cable news been around.”
“I watched your interview with Vaughn Manatee the day before the Wall Street bombing. This is as much a war between your network and Eagle News.”
“The difference is that Free Speech reports the news. Eagle News is entertainment. It appeals to its audience by being so outrageous that even the people that hate its rhetoric can’t change the channel. If you agree with it, then you become zealous. In my opinion that’s how Ramses has taken over the country. Vaughn Manatee is as dangerous as Ramses.”
The east coast is a mess. New York City is a ghost town. There is no more reason to live there. The insurrectionists are pushing through Salt Lake City through Cleveland and Huntsville Alabama. The insurrectionist has a new ally. Mexico joins the fight seeping in from the south. Feeling the grip of the enemy around his throat Ramses paces in the Oval Office debating what to do next. A year at war has Manatee trying desperately to spin the truth and quell outright revolt.
“With the country under one bank and manufacturing, distribution of goods under the government’s control do we really believe President Ramses and Putin are leading us into communism? I don’t think so but when we return from break, we’ll have a panel discussion and you the people can decide for yourselves.”
“You have me working around the clock Mr President.”
“And yet you’re losing this war.”
“How am I losing this war? I’m an anchorman not a soldier.”
“You are so wrong. Let me explain. Kaela Hammond suggested a civil war would be fought between the people and Wall Street. That war has been going on for 150 years. That’s why I moved the financial sector into Washington. Secessionists want their money they’ll have to win this war and they never will. My point is this war is being fought on the TV screen. This war isn’t between generals and colonels, its between Eagle News and Free Speech.”
“That wasn’t our agreement.”
“Agreement?” Ramses chuckles darkly and sighs. “You forget Vaughn that I am the President. You’re being paid by me, your commander and chief to do a job for your country and most importantly for me so you will do it. There is no agreement.”
“The secessionists have taken over half the country. How am I supposed to spin that?”
“We have weapons they don’t and never will and better still I have the resolve to use them.”
“I’m struggling as it is to justify your use of chemical weapons, what the hell could you possibly use against…” Manatee realizes there is only one horrific answer.
“You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you Vaughn.”
“I believed in you but this…”
“I can’t let this country go back to the way it was dammit!” Ramses roars. “We’d lost our way before I took office. Blacks and spics in every neighborhood. Gay pride parades. If I hadn’t won in 2000 they’d probably be marrying each other and fucking animals by now! Do you want abortion to return.” That had been a hot topic leading up to the war as state after state overturned Ro verses Wade. Manatee spun it as a leading cause and need for the war.
“No Mister President.” Manatee could really care less about abortion or many of the moral issues he pushed. No one running on a pro life ticket gave a shit about abortion and nor did they need to. The government doesn’t legislate morality but offer a product persistently enough then quite a few people will buy it. As with slavery both sides carried the banner into war. Like slavery, abortion will someday be considered one of the chief causes for the civil war.
“I’m going to do something for the greater good of this country and it will be your job to warn the people of the moral decay of the 20th century. What I am going to do is right because it is necessary.”
“May I ask what you plan to do?”
“No, you may not. You will have to learn when everyone else does. Just remember that I am the leader of the free world. I answer only to God. Remember that and you’ll know how to report what is to come.”
“Mr President, President Putin is here for your meeting.” The beautiful 25-year-old immediately took the place of the aid that Ramses shot.
“That will be all Vaughn.” He dismisses him with a backhanded wave, while urging Putin inside the Oval Office.
“Mr President.” Putin smiles as he sits.
“Mr President.”
“Have you reconsidered my offer?”
“I have…” The president stands, beginning to pace as he looks to the rug. “You know I can’t justify what needs to be done. Not even Manatee will be able to spin this.”
“If I were to order the strike then perhaps…”
“Perhaps the entire American populace will revolt. No. What’s really hurting us is their alliances, England, Mexico.”
“So, you’re saying if we drop a bomb on England, it will curb public sentiment?”
“If you drop a bomb on American soil as one of allies, they will know who to blame. Even my most ardent supporters will turn against me. Drop a bomb on England it will be much easier for Manatee to spin the narrative my way.”
“American Freedom! Hah!” Putin mocks a country that in Ramses demented mind he is trying to save from itself. “Your people are like sheep.”
“And I am their shepherd.”
“That’s what makes us such excellent partners. We can make as you Americans call it ‘bull shit’ into reality.”
“Bullshit, you say?”
“You don’t actually believe in your own propaganda, do you?”
“I don’t see my rhetoric as propaganda. America is a democracy.”
“It was…” Putin snickers.
“It is and the people agree with me, or I wouldn’t be standing here.”
“So, this isn’t a power grab to you. You genuinely believe you’re trying to save this country from itself?”
“We each do what we must for our countries.”
“Yes.” Putin laughs inside realizing this guy is crazier than he is. He actually thinks what he’s doing is right.
“England was one of our closest allies but turned its back on us. (in his third term) The people will see your attack as a moral and patriotic victory.”
Insurrectionist uniforms are no longer the camouflage colors of the past few generations. They are more like tight fitting red, white and blue HASMAT suits. Kaela hoped the day would never come when the captain’s suggestion to make a nastier gas bomb than the one that consumed her friend at Wilma Miller’s Mall. Today the whole country will witness the horrors of this war that has killed nearly ten million people in eighteen months. Even with the suits gas sometimes leaks in leaving soldiers with at least second degree burns that they can only fight through. Amy can’t believe herself that she is still on the front line.
“The machine gun fire has stopped.” She says to the captain.
“We’re about to move out.” He says, signaling his troops. “We have a surprise for your viewers tonight.” He orders his soldiers to stop and lay low. “Seal your masks on tight.” Amy remains standing with her camera man on one knee. A line of Ramses’ soldiers breaks the fog in the distance and with a nod a poof escapes from a tripod.
Ramses’ frontline emerges presenting Amy’s camera with an inhuman monstrosity. The enemy’s protective uniforms dissolve into their skin. They collapse to the ground when their heads cave in. Amy’s jaw hangs as the spear head of an army turns to goo.
“You saw it here first on Free Speech news.” She can’t fully digest the horror she just witnessed. Moving forward with the insurrectionist forces she reports the objectives of the battle and the necessity of this new weapon. “As you can see this battle has taken place on an open field moving across what was once interstate 90. Watching as abandoned cars dissolve it’s difficult not to be impressed by the ingenuity of our scientist as we walk through what has literally turned into a shadow of death.” She pauses a moment. “I’m already getting word of a conference between Ramses and insurrectionist forces in regard to the mutual chemical disarmament.” Catching up to the captain, she offers him a microphone. “Captain, how do you feel about the insurrectionist first use of chemical weaponry?”
“Sure, showed them commie fuckers, didn’t we?” He said with a grin as he lit a cigarette.
Commie Fuckers. That was another avenue of attack for Amy. Between Ramses close friendship with the reborn USSR and the consolidation of finance, manufacture and distribution the Ramses’ United States is beginning to look communistic. She and her camera operator take their seats in a jeep.
“Where are we going?”
“The Dayton airport. It’s under insurrectionist control now.”
“So where are we flying?”
“We’re planning an amphibious attack on a city in Upstate New York called Rochester.”
“Why Rochester and why are we jumping that far east? We’re barely into Ohio.”
“Rochester is a poor city with a a lot of people who don’t like Ramses’ America. We’ve been sneaking in sniper rifles which with the war quelled a lot of violent crime.”
“They’re saving it for Ramses.”
“Exactly. The reason Ramses is losing this war is we have what I call a window army. There are people all over the city in multi story buildings shooting patrols. What they don’t have is tanks and heavy artillery. Even now, the British are softening up Rochester airport’s defensive. When we land, you’re going to see some serious urban warfare.”
Phillip Kurtwood is fighting for what he still calls the US army. His company is on the defense in Albany NY. They are under attack by British army in a nearby suburb. Since the day of the Wall Street bombing has remained perplexed. During the Afghani and Iraqi wars, The US and UK were friends. They had been for over a century. Now half the country is at war with them.
“Sir, we’ve been ordered to fall back. The British have taken Albany, and the news is saying secessionists forces will be landing occupation forces within the hour.”
This is insane. He thinks to himself, firing is automatic gun as he and his company fall back west. It’s becoming clear to him he’s on the losing side but asks himself how it came to this. Eight-teen months ago he was a stockbroker but its 20 years ago that makes this more perplexing. Driving in the army he had been surrounded by a band of brothers. He’s beginning to ask what and who he is fighting for. How could this be happening in the modern world? How is a civil war even possible in such close quarters with such advanced technology.
“Where are the Russians?” He asks.
“They’re concentrating their forces on the western front and the enemy are in Cleveland now.”
Causalities rise by the millions every month and it doesn’t feel like the Russians are making for particularly good allies. They’ve been no help along the east coast against the British. They’re holding Washington but the enemy is closing on every side.
“We’re being ordered to fall back go to Syracuse, possibly as far back as Rochester or Buffalo. They want us to fortify the beaches along Lake Ontario and take control of the airports.”
The army is about a red sash air away from losing a war their commander and chief started. Airlift helicopters land in an open field along Interstate 95 and he jumps on board. They’re being deployed to the Upstate New York front along Lake Ontario.
Kaelah’s plane hadn’t met much resistance till passing Buffalo, still held by Ramses’ forces. The Insurrectionist forces have no air force of their own, so they depend entirely on the British Air Force. Anti-aircraft streaks the the evening sky, detonating at the tips of their wings. Kaelah has pushed to far east for Ramses’ comfort. She is a priority target. The longer that free press survives the stronger the insurrectionist cause becomes. She can’t be allowed to show the devastation caused in urbane warfare or it will break out in any place maintaining marshal law.
Reaching the runway, Kaelah looks up to a hive of fighter planes ducking it out. They will have to sneak her out of the airport into a city under marshal law. There isn’t much traffic on state route 390 these days. With most of Ramses army gathered in the city and suburbs. With your likely hood of being spotted as.a high valued target her escape vehicle is surrounded by trucks armed in their beds with belt fed machine guns.
“Call air support interstate 390 southbound.”
“Start rolling!” Kaelah orders her cameraman. Removing his camera from its case, he presses record and points it at Kaelah. “I’m on the expressway coming to you live from Rochester New York. We landed as Insurrectionist forces cleared the air and British special forces took over the control tower. It’s apparent Ramses spotted me leaving the airport and now my truck is being harassed as you can see the pursuing trucks are marked police, armed with the same belt fed machine guns.” A Gunner opens up on the State trooper flanking trucks. “You’ve all heard the rhetoric that I single-handedly started this conflict, but I know I was wrong. This is a war of propaganda. Free Speech didn’t start the war, but it is carrying the battle now well into New York State. We’re entering 490 and I am told we are mere miles from Downtown Rochester. We’ll bring you up close coverage of the urban street battles.
Aircraft carriers and battleships line the beaches of Rochester’s Ontario beach. What’s left of Rochester Airport’s squadron land on a handful of aircraft carriers. The captain drops his shoulders at the sight of British fighters zooming overhead and battleships from the North.
“Are we headed for the lake?” Kaelah asks as they pass an exit sign saying the next exit leads to downtown.
“No, we’re going to sneak into downtown.” The captain answers, as they park under an overpass. “Main Street is a quarter mile east.”
“Why Main Street?”
“You’re going to want your viewers to see what this war is doing to America’s cities.”
“There are police vehicles all along the street.”
“This would be a good time to start rolling.”
“This is Kaelah Hammond. I’m coming to you live from the streets of Rochester where there are police vehicles blockading the streets. The question I have is why the police are backing Ramses forces. Captain, perhaps you can explain to our viewers why police forces are backing Ramses.”
“Most aren’t. Intelligence suggests that most of the police are either enforcing marshal law on foot or fighting from the windows of the city buildings. You’ll see that soon enough. The other reason is Ramses promise to lift America’s police force back to a status of authority and give them back their license to enforce the law. Some resent the call to defund the police and the disrespect shown to them the past few years leading up to the war. Ramses has promised change and to enforce sentences be carried out.” The police have legitimate reasons if misguided for standing for Ramses. “The other fact is that much of the police force is military police. Ramses soldiers are enforcing his new laws.”
“The streets of Rochester are quiet during a time they would be bustling with automotive and pedestrian traffic.” Her eyes suggest to her camera man to turn away from her to Main Street and Lake Avenue which intersect north and south. “As you can see the police have barricaded the intersection of Lake and and Main north bound. Again, Rochester is a poor and according to our sources a strategically insignificant city, but it appears something has the military and city police very nervous.”
As they approach the main street barricade, ten miles north along Charlotte Beach in Charlotte, New York, troop carriers land soft, while smaller carriers lay waste to the civilian docks. Tanks and artillery land along with them and push through the minor tides.
“Alright men! Remember, this is a heavily populated suburb. Avoid unnecessary destruction of property. Too many civilians could die, and the cities economy may never recover if the homes and shops are demolished.” An Insurrectionist captain reminds his troops before opening the hatch, allowing his amphibious invasion force.
There are tanks and artillery waiting for them, dropping a dozen soldier before they can fully emerge from the boat. The soldiers that do survive take refuge behind the many trees and fortify the bathrooms as they advance. Kneeling to one knee as he replaces his magazine a trooper gulps as a dozen Ramses troops emerge from an ice cream shops and all the towns commercial hot spots.
“Don’t fire till they’re on the grass! I repeat! Do not destroy this Goddamned town!” A company Lt orders as thousands of Ramses’ troops converge. “Knock over the steel picnic tables and use them as shields. Do not fire till they reach the park!”
Three men fire everything they have in their magazines while two others carry the tables into the horizontal hail of gun fire. Bullets quickly push through the picnic tables killing dozens, leaving the rest to abandon them proceeding south through open air. A sargent notices heavy shooting coming from a square block and grabs the Lt’s attention.
“Sir, look southwest at forty-five degrees!”
“I see it… Shit…”
“What are your orders?”
“Artillery! This is Lt Sanders. I need that neighborhood on the hill to the Southwest, bearing forty-five degrees knocked down!”
Civilians scatter to the south onto a local four lane road as their homes are demolished. Tanks drive past them firing back northeast, destroying a bathroom house.
“Concentrate artillery to the southwest. I I want the tank brigade to take as much fire as possible onto Lake Avenue. Dog company, I want you to evacuate the civilian population to the southeast. Load up the evacuation buses and get them out of here.” He orders, deciding that if they were going to establish a beachhead in Upstate New York, this beautiful relatively wealthy bay town may not survive. “I want Easy and Fox company to push west through town of Greece. I doubt we’ll meet much resistance in a suburb like that.”
“This is Kaela Hammond of Free Speech News. To recap, my news crew landed twenty-four hours ago in Rochester, New York where we were assaulted by aircraft on Interstate 390. Upon surviving to reach Downtown Rochester we found Main Street barricaded to the North. We have since learned of an amphibious assault upon Rochester New York. I spoke to a Rochester police sergeant, and he confirmed the reason they had cordoned off the street is as a last-ditch plan to protect city hall from an anticipated attack by a growing militia, created by the criminal underworld. My news crew has moved North to a main thoroughfare running right through what the locals consider the cities most ghetto drug addled sector of the city. Behind me is Lyle Avenue, lined with squad cars and a smattering of tanks. No effort has been made to evacuate the civilian population.”
“Attention residents: it is well known that several houses in this area are drug spots and harboring insurrectionist criminals. We have license to indiscriminately destroy everything from Lyle Avenue to Mount Reed and Ridge Road. You have no escape. Understand that this is war. We prefer not to kill innocent civilians, but we will destroy hundreds of blocks with with extreme prejudice unless everyone proliferating elicit activity surrenders or is surrendered. You have one hour.”
“So as Insurrectionist forces remain stalemated in Charlotte, they are pushing forward through Greece and we’re now hearing an amphibious invasion has landed with minimal resistance in Sodus, a small-town east of here in Wayne County New York.”
Much of Charlotte, like major cities like New York City lyes in ruins but with troops moving through Greece, Ramses has no choice but to slowly fall back. Both armies stand on their feet firing as they pass through a cemetery. They are halfway between the beach and the eventual battle line where the police hope to break through to West Ridge Road, state route 104.
“This is Kaela Hammond returning to our coverage of the battle front recently opened up in Upstate New York. An hour has passed since Police Lt Harper issued the RPDs final warning and the police are assembling their gear and weapons.
“Lt Harper, are you planning to carry out your threat to destroy the ghetto.”
The Lt smiles and answers. “Kaela, this area has been allowed to run wild for five years. Still, we gave them more than a fair chance to surrender. I know your network has its opinion about our Alliance with Ramses forces and I don’t entirely agree but it is our Job to enforce the law and our hands have been tied for five years. Arresting these people has proven futile. While we admittedly have our own reasons for siding with Ramses, the criminal element has its own reasons for siding with insurrectionist forces and they have nothing to do with politics. In short, these assholes have had their chance. This city has an infestation, and this is an opportunity to exterminate it. Yes, we are about to move in.”
Moments later, dirty, scrawny, mostly back women and children emerge onto Plymouth Avenue. As they grow closer to Lyle Avenue, the police begin to roar, guns drawn for them to lay down on their bellies with their hands behind their heads. Briefly, Kaela is relieved but before the women and children can obey the police’s orders their bodies are riddled by machine gun fire from their own people. Even the police are astonished by their enemy’s dishonorable tactics. They do their best to push past the few survivors, some helping the innocents back behind their own lines. A tank mortar nails a house at the other side of the one square block park inside Plymouth Ave. Hookers and drug addicts scatter and head for the police lines.
“Hold tank fire!” Harper insists to the military. “All forces, move in with full riot gear!”
Riot police take the front line as hostile citizens emerge from houses around the park. They beat their riot shields, throwing tear gas that subdues much of the nonlethal attackers. There is pure raw hatred on both sides. The police hatred is more professional than personal. They hate being subservient to the criminal underworld since the early 2020s. Their enemies hate the police for their own selfish reasons. Their job is to subdue their habits. Riot police crush heads with non-lethal force first. Some even make arrest and escort their captures back behind the lines. In some cases, it backfires. Unbeknownst to the arrestees many of them have been planted with explosives. Kaela’s camera captures the explosion of a car only a hundred yards away which takes out two cars in the perimeter.
That antagonizes Harper. He nods for the military commander to fire a volley of tank fire indiscriminately into the ghetto. Women and children, hookers and addicts flee, heading for the police line. Many are gunned down by criminal militia and some police fire. Half a person crawls down a paved street until finally giving up the ghost. Police cease helping refugees cross over to Lyle Ave and give up arresting hostiles, infuriated by what seems to be suicide bombing.
Kaela moves into the park and beyond it as the police force and Ramses push into Dewey Avenue. An hour into the fighting, three entire blocks of houses are laid waste. There will be no more warnings until every known drug house is knocked down to their foundations.
About thirty-six hours later, Kaela looks south from a few blocks to 104 seeing ash and mortar. Much of Rochester was still built on bricks and mortar. All that’s left of several miles of dust and thousands of dead bodies, most of which are relatively innocent civilians. Standing on a pile of broken stone, Harper makes plans to set up a base of operations in the Kodak movie theater on the northern side of 104. He looks back to Kaela as she studies a mangled little girl. His justification is that regardless of who wins this war, he secretly hopes the insurrectionist this battle has wiped out the city’s core criminal element and he has a surprise for Ramses. What is left of his police force will head back south, east and west. Even if he were inclined to help repel the Insurrectionist assault, his force has taken massive losses and will be hard pressed to find replacements when the war is over.
The Rochester police force’s victory in the ghetto has finally given something for Vaughn Manatee to spin.
“Ramses has given back to the police their ability to enforce the law. Riots flood the streets only to see the rioters and gangs put down with newly empowered cops given license to shoot dead anyone breaking the law. Tonight, I have with me in the studio Rochester commissioner David Remington. Commissioner, how is Rochester holding against secessionist rebels.”
“With help of the fine men and women of the RPD, we are pushing them back toward Lake Ontario.”
That’s a lie. The truth is being tuned out through sound editing as insurrectionist forces bomb Main Street, less than a mile from City Hall. That’s why the interview is being conducted over a video feed. Even if the commissioner didn’t have to oversee the effort to hold off the insurrectionist push through city hall, where they would raise their flag over the city, he can’t leave by plane as the insurrectionist have taken the airport and the British Navy owns Lake Ontario. The Camera turns to Major Kurtwood at Rochester’s front line.
“Major Kurtwood, has the US intelligence determined how the British Navy made its way into Lake Ontario.”
“Our sources have determined that they’ve set up construction and launching docks along the Canadian Boarder.”
“Did the destruction of the ghetto serve the US forces cause in pushing back the rebel advance?”
“Of course, but we can’t take all the glory. I’m sure we’ll annihilate secessionists forces soon enough, but the police forces are doing a great deal to keep the law-abiding population safe.”
“We all thank the brave men and women serving and protecting and in so doing striking a blow for freedom and unity.”
“This will be one country soon.”
Kurtwood sighs inward as he tugs on his tie.
“That’s it for tonight! Up next, the spin zone after a brief word from our sponsors.”
Kurtwood is ashamed of the lies he’s been telling. Ramses army is losing the war, and he admits the army isn’t the one he served at the turn of the century. This is Ramses army, and he knows it losing. The Buffalo airport is under attack and the Insurrectionist have broken across from the Ohio to the Pennsylvania state line headed for Erie. Deep down he asks himself, which is more cowardly, switching from the losing to the winning side or fighting for a President, not a country, that is corrupt and unhinged. Is retiring in the middle of the war an option?
Sadly, the country has been without a leader for over 20 years. He may have been a viable President in his first term, but something snapped in his second. He was very popular for his straightforward unapologetic rhetoric. Even today, waist deep in blood the only thing slowing the Insurrectionist progress are the 40% of the population that see no problem in a President that has coasted through two elections practically unopposed. He is untouchable by scandals and his followers are fans, zealots.
Kurtwood is a soldier. The notion of duty is the only thing that stops him from shooting himself from the misery of fighting for a cause, no, a man he doesn’t believe in. His and this country’s only hope is a disaster that will shake up his core followers. They don’t know that he cold blooded shot a homosexual Hispanic man and sadly it wouldn’t bother them if they did. His alliance with Putin made sense to them and chemical weaponry deployed on American soil were all justified by his promise of victory. Then there is Vaughn Manatee.
It’s late 2027 and the city of Buffalo is in ashes. Manatee couldn’t spin that. Intelligence leaked to Free Press that President Ramses did in fact authorize a nuclear strike on an American city. Ramses Army is doing its best to hold off the combined forces of the National Guard, all fifty state militias and hundreds of thousands of armed pissed off citizens converge on Washington DC.
“You said you were going to drop a bomb somewhere in England!” Ramses rants. “This is not what I wanted for this country!”
“You wanted absolute power for yourself.” Putin shrugs. “That is not in Russia’s best interest.”
“Why the fuck not?” The President screeches.
“America and Russia, we are both Alphas; as you Americans would say the biggest dogs on the playground. The reason we can’t be friends is America’s delusion that it is the force of morality in the world. You believe your own bullshit and I can’t partner with a man or a country that lies to himself.”
“I don’t know what lies you’re talking about…”
“You don’t? I’ve read enough of your history to see how full of yourselves you are. Your country’s revolution was but a temper tantrum by a union of plantation owners. You’re capitalist, not Christians. Now, two centuries later you’ve convinced yourselves they’re one in the same! We’re both dictators but the difference between you and I is that I know what I am. You think you’re America’s moral messiah and really believe that all the things you do are for the greater good. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not.”
“You pretended to be my friend.”
“Fair enough.” Putin shrugs. “Guilty as charged. You’re a fool. You’re a leader of fools and until your country gets a grip Russia will be the only superpower left on this Earth.”
“Tell me one thing. How did you get nuclear weapons in American airspace?”
“Oh! Is that what this whole call was about? You think we nuked your town, no.”
“Then who?”
“You did obviously. All we did was sneak the documentation to Insurrectionist intelligence and the Free Speech News Network. You really should have shut them up when you had the chance. I’d suggest checking your files at the Pentagon but it’s probably burning by now.”
With the DC airport now an Insurrectionist airfield tanks, soldiers and armed citizens exchange automatic weapons fire all the way to Pennsylvania Avenue. Kaela is wearing Kevlar along with the rest of the news team. Flanked by cameramen they march along with her as she describes the carnage and what is at stake as the National guard levies heavy artillery onto the White House lawn. The fighting draws into the night as streetlamps wink out from power outages of bullet impacts.
“We’re mere blocks away from the White House. All that remains of Ramses Presidency is a few square city blocks. Oh wait… both sides have ceased firing. I’m told the President has been ordered taken alive. I see some movement.”
The President’s motorcade punches through the outer gates onto Pennsylvania Avenue. The counter strike is surgical, making sure not to hit the President’s car. With two cars in flames a hummer slams head on, bringing the President’s car to a stop. Moving in they find nothing.
“It’s empty!”
“Let’s knock on the door!”
The machine gun fire resumes. Kaela’s cameras swing around giving a horrific view of this final battle. Thousands die within view of the naked eye as a tank park at the gate to the White House front door. Two mortars to the pillars at the entrance knock them down.
“I want five men to run in with the strike force and two out here.” Kaela instructs her filming team.
“Why don’t we all go inside. Maybe you can finally get that interview you’ve always wanted.”
“I think I will. Out here on the White House lawn. He’s been ordered taken alive remember.”
The fighting along Pennsylvania Avenue quiets as the strike team penetrates the White House clearing resistance of what little is left of Ramses’ army and a few straggling secret service agents. A few are given a chance to surrender.
“Where is he?” Kurtwood demands.
“The Oval Office.” Answers the White House aid the President had taken as his mistress.
“What about Manatee?”
“They’re in there together. The President says he’ll surrender if you agree to take them prisoner.”
“Fine. Arrest her and bring her with us.”
“What for?”
“You’re our canary. If they open up on you, we’ll know.”
“His secretary of defense and a general on their feet ready to fire.”
“That was wise of you.” He nods for his men to set her down. Turning to the cameramen he says, “This is what you guys came here for.” He turns to two flanking soldiers. “Ramses and Manatee will likely be on the floor. I’ll take the center, you two take two o’clock and ten o’clock! Go on three. Remember we want those two assholes taken alive!”
They break into the Oval Office to find guns to their target’s heads.
“Let us go and you can have them!” The secretary of defense threatens with a gun at Ramses’ tempo. Kurtwood shoots out Ramses’ and Manatee’s knees. They slump out of their grip leaving their captors open. They fall with one shot each between their eyes.
“Idiots.” Kurtwood laughs as he drives his knee into the small of Ramses back. “Are we getting this on camera boys? This is history in the making.”
“We’re rolling Major!”
“Very well then.” He smiles, clicking handcuffs around the now deposed President’s wrists. “Haimen Ramses, under the authority of the legitimate United State’s of America I am placing you under arrest for murder and war crimes. You will have a chance to speak in your defense shortly at your trial. Take them out of here.”
“Where are you taking us?” Manatee asks in tears from fear and pain.
“The front lawn. Someone wants to talk to you.”
“What are you going to do to us?”
“Nothing really. The media will ask you some questions then you’ll undergo what your army used to call reeducation.”
“This is it!” Kaela points to the hole where the front door used to be. Her camera zooms on the images of the limping dictator and disgraced news anchorman. “As you can see, the former President is being led out of a severely damaged White House mansion.” Kurtwood shoves both of them from their shoulders to their knees as he cocks his handgun. “This will be Free Speech’s first and only interview with Ramses and the first time my colleague Vaughn Manatee have spoken since the onset of this civil war.”
Both men are messy, covered in ash and drywall plaster that mixes in with their sweat and tears. They are both in agony, kneeling on knees with bullet holes in one of each of their knees.
“President, now that you’ve been capture and are left to answer to answer to the American people for the first time in many years what do you have to say?”
“I thought I was doing what was right and necessary to make America great, moral and God fearing again.”
“Major Kurtwood, as head of the army of the Legitimate United States, and supreme judge, how do you answer Ramses, and what is your verdict.”
POP
“He thought wrong.” With the flick of a trigger, Ramses brains spray on what little of the grass that remains on the lawn. His face maimed, his head a cavity, he falls to his shoulders. “I find him guilty.”
Kaela turns to Manatee.
“It’s been a long journey we and the American people have taken with you. Now that we’ve emerged from the dark path you helped build is there anything you’d like to say before you go off the air?”
Vaughn admits within his mind that he’d made a good living generating hatred and anger as if on assembly line or in a processing plant. In truth he had few political inclinations either way. What he really had was a creative imagination and an overpowering presence. He’d done it all paid by the man lying headless less than a yard next to him.
“Sic simper tyrannies.”
POP
Manatee dies a little slower than Ramses and anyone watching the broadcast, loving or hating his lies agree he deserves to. Kurtwood had missed his head shooting into the back of his neck. Blood gushed from his throat, but handcuffs prevented him from reflexively trying to catch the blood with his hands.
“Thus fall tyrants.” She said to the camera feeling forgiving as if those were his words of apology not so much to the American people but to her.
Six months later, on November 3rd 2028 the new President of the United States of America Kaela Fresco, war hero stands behind a podium of the Capitol Building. It was one of the few buildings to survive the Capitol Blitz. She kisses her husband Shawn Fresco before placing her hands onto the podium.
“America has suffered a trauma, not just over the past four years but nearly 30. I remember America before September 11th 2001. There was bigotry and strife, surely but we were growing. We got scared and so we stopped growing. The first objective of my Presidency is obvious. Not just must we work together to reconstruct the infrastructure that made this Country a wonder and the envy of the rest of the world, but we must work to reconstruct its soul. This wasn’t a war over politics this was a war of raw unadulterated hatred. The out-of-control leader was only the symptom of the affliction, but we were the cause.
Under my Presidency we will no longer beat our chest, declaring ourselves to be the greatest country in the world. We will strive to be while accepting we are and never will be any greater than anyone else. We will resume building things. We will reach for the stars instead if the phones in our pockets. We will pick our head up and educate ourselves. Ignorance will no longer be upheld as a species of intelligence. We will rebuild this country one beam at a time and together. We will pick ourselves up and do what this country once did best. We will go to bed at night knowing we did our best and wake up determined to leave the world in a better state than when we woke up. We will grow, reunited as one nation.
James Drew is a Rochester area author and playwright.
RUNDELANIA 