Sanctuary

MARCH 18, 2015 ^{• • •}

“Wake up,” Pablo said softly to Isabelle as he stroked her arm.

She opened her eyes to see Pablo’s face hovering over hers. “What time is it?”

“It’s early. I wanted to say I was sorry for yelling at you last night. I have to leave today for a while. I’ll be back for dinner tonight. If you need anything, just call—”

“I know, call General Pasqual.”

“No. Don’t call him, contact Major Alejandro.”

“What’s wrong? You seem tense,” she asked, sitting up in the bed.

“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Is there something wrong with General Pasqual?”

Pablo really disliked her constant prying into his official affairs but this time he wanted to tell her, only because her intuition seemed to be correct about him.

“You might have been right about him. I think I found some information that might prove he’s doing something behind my back.”

His comment piqued her interest; she sat up and leaned in.

“He’s been meeting with what looks like some insurgents.”

“What? Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“I hope to find out soon.”

“Oh, I wish I could be there to see the look on his face. Where are you doing it?”

“In the basement of the capitol building,” Pablo answered. “It’s secure and private.”

“You rarely venture out, so please be careful out there,” she said, then planted a kiss on his lips. “When are you leaving?”

“Now. Have a good day. I’ll see you later.”

The old Victorian mansion hadn’t been lived in for years but Pablo chose to take up residence there because of its rich legacy. As a student of history, he couldn’t resist living in such a storied place. As he left for the state capitol building, he admired his new living space. It was exactly the type of residence a world leader would have.

The few times Pablo had left the premises, he had never walked, but today would be different. His army had created a safe zone around the capitol that covered twenty city blocks wide and fourteen blocks long. All access points were heavily guarded and any residential homes and apartments were vacated, with the residents relocated.

Pablo exited the back door of the mansion and walked up to several men standing next to his convoy.

“You three come with me, we’re walking over,” Pablo ordered.

The men obeyed and took up positions around him.

“Have the convoy head there now, so it can be available if I want to use it when I’m done. I have a feeling I’ll be very tired after today.”

An officer came out of the mansion and called out, “Emperor!”

Pablo stopped. “Yes, captain.”

“General Pasqual called to inform you he’s just arrived at the capitol. I told him you were walking over but he insisted you drive.”

“I don’t take orders from him,” Pablo stated, and walked out the gate with his men.

The convoy pulled out just behind them and accelerated past them; it turned left on Fifteenth Street and sped off toward the capitol.

The empty streets seemed surreal. The only sounds that could be heard were from his convoy a few blocks away. So when the whoosh of a rocket hit his ears Pablo was more than surprised. Before he could even see where it came from, another whoosh and explosion followed. Soon rockets slammed into his convoy and exploded.

Pablo crouched down when the first explosion rocked the city, and ran for cover when the second one exploded. His men followed as he ran for cover behind the wall of a building.

A third rocket hit the last vehicle and exploded into a fireball.

Pablo watched the flames bounce and dance off the vehicles. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but most of all he couldn’t believe that he was alive. A feeling of divine fate came over him. He stepped out into the street with a feeling of invincibility and saw the burning vehicles as yet another sign that he was on the right path.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Haley cried out.

Samantha ran as fast as her legs would take her down the hall and into Haley’s bedroom.

“I’m here, honey, Momma’s here,” she softly said as she embraced Haley and began to rock her.

“I had a nightmare. I saw Nelson and he was dead,” she whimpered.

“It was just a bad dream, honey, it was only a dream.”

“But it seemed real!”

“It was just a dream,” Samantha said in a whisper.

“Is he ever coming back?”

Haley had been asking Samantha that every day since Nelson was taken away. Telling your children the truth about sensitive topics was a tough decision for parents. She and Gordon believed that it was okay to fudge the truth so as to keep the children’s innocence intact for as long as possible.

“He’ll come back one day. He’s just doing something with that man, then he’ll come back.”

“That man was mean, Mommy.”

“I know.”

“He said mean things to me and told me he wanted to kill me and kill you.”

Hearing Haley say this broke Samantha’s heart. The innocence she was attempting to protect was very difficult to maintain in this new world.

They both talked until Haley fell back to sleep in her arms.

Samantha tried to sleep too, but she couldn’t. She quietly snuck out her room and went downstairs to make some tea. At the bottom of the stairs the dark stain stood as a grim reminder of everything that had recently happened.

She walked into the kitchen, then went to the window and looked outside. The sun was coming up and a new day had begun. She looked for anything unusual and made sure the door was locked. She pledged that she’d never again be caught unaware. Without Gordon or Nelson to help, she was on her own.

The kerosene heaters that helped keep the house warm from the frigid air outdoors were a temporary luxury. Soon they’d run out of fuel and when that happened, they’d have to go to using wood exclusively to heat the house. Their food stores were good and medicines weren’t a problem. Gordon’s quick thinking months ago really had kept them alive.

A loud banging at the front door made her jump. She rushed out of the kitchen, pistol in hand.

She looked through the peephole to see Eric standing there.

“What’s wrong?” she asked after she opened the door.

“They’re back!” Eric said urgently.

Cruz’s condition had greatly improved, so much so that he requested they leave earlier than planned.

Taking advantage of the situation, Gordon got everyone on the road as quickly as possible and headed east. When they crossed into Idaho, he couldn’t help but think about turning the vehicle north and driving straight to McCall. That desire grew tougher to resist when he started to see familiar signage for roads that he knew.

When he saw the sign for Eagle Road, his heart skipped a beat. He was only two hours away from McCall. All he had to do was make a left from the off-ramp and drive directly north and in two hours he’d be at his cabin and in Samantha’s arms.

He then saw a sign for Mountain Home and an idea came to mind.

“Christopher, get on the radio and use this frequency,” he said.

“Who am I calling?” Christopher asked.

“Mountain Home Air Force base.”

“Gordon, what are you thinking?” Wilbur asked.

“I’m curious if the base is still functioning,” he said. It was a half truth. Though Gordon had promised to take them all the way to Cheyenne, if Mountain Home Air Force Base was still operational and had communications with Cheyenne, he’d just drop them there.

“Okay, so how do I change the frequency?” Christopher asked, looking confused.

Gordon didn’t answer; he quickly took the exit for Eagle Road and accelerated.

“What are you doing? Is everything okay?” Wilbur asked.

“No, it’s not okay,” he replied.

“Is someone chasing us? What is it?” Wilbur asked, concerned that a situation like what had happened in Hines was happening again.

“No, that’s not it!” he said excitedly as he made a hard left onto Eagle Road.

“What’s wrong?” Cruz asked, worry written all over his face.

“I don’t know, but when I see a sign that has my name on it with an arrow, I tend to follow it!”

“Emperor, please. He’s my cousin’s son. He hasn’t done anything wrong,” Pasqual begged. He was bound to a chair in one of the storage rooms in the damp basement of the capitol.

The small concrete-walled room at one time held supplies. Now it would be Pablo’s torture chamber. On a small table next to Pasqual sat an assortment of instruments—knives, an axe, screwdrivers, hammer, pliers.

“I’d have him speak but he can’t now,” Pablo laughed when pointed to the other man in the room. The other man was Pasqual’s cousin’s son, Jorge Ortiz. He was the man identified the other day at the house in Folsom. During his arrest, he resisted and was beaten severely. His cheekbones and jaw were shattered and he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Pablo took pleasure in torturing people. He specifically enjoyed it when they begged. Asking for mercy made him torture them more.

This is what Pablo was able to ascertain so far: Pasqual’s cousin, Maria Ortiz, the woman seen with Jorge, had emigrated from Venezuela twelve years before and had been living in Sacramento since arriving in the United States. After Sacramento fell to the PAE, Pasqual went to her to see if she needed anything. Her son was a specialist in the California National Guard and had left his post weeks before.

“Emperor, he no longer fights for the Americans. He left his ranks weeks ago. I was recruiting him for the Villistas, that is all. I was taking them food and bringing them to our side,” he begged.

Pablo had beaten him already. Sweat mixed with fresh blood on his face. His lips and nose were bleeding and a small cut to his face oozing.

“I have to say, Maria said the same thing, so your stories are identical. Even after she was raped, she kept her story straight. I was impressed. I’m planning on having Alpha Company fuck her next unless you tell me what you were doing there.”

“No, not Maria, she did nothing wrong,” Pasqual cried out.

“What are your plans? Kill me and take the throne? You insisted I ride in the convoy this morning moments before it was attacked and destroyed.”

“Sir, we intercepted a communication that an attack was imminent. We found an old frequency that the insurgents use to communicate. There’s been someone using it to communicate with the United States government. They know intimate details on movements and plans. We overheard the plans for an attack against you not ten minutes before it happened. They have someone on the inside.”

“Of course you would say that,” Pablo said, then walked over to Jorge with a knife and sliced his face.

Jorge woke up from the pain and cried out.

“Emperor, please. The communications we’ve received are coming from someone close to you. I know it sounds like it could be from me, but they’re not from me, I swear. I’m a loyal follower. I swore an allegiance to you.”

“Who else can it be, then?” Pablo asked. “Who else knows all my plans intimately?”

“The lieutenant governor’s daughter,” he blurted out.

Pablo raced across the room and slapped Pasqual in the face.

“If you knew an attack was imminent on me, why would you suggest I use the convoy?”

“I didn’t, sir. I told the captain that you needed to stay!”

Pablo didn’t know what to believe. The plot against him ran deep, if what Pasqual was saying was true. The only way to be sure he purged these traitors was to cleanse his army. The best place to start was with Pasqual.

“General, you might be correct, but I can’t take that chance. I have to speed this along, now that you’ve given me some other names.”

Pablo walked back to Jorge, grabbed him by the hair, and slit his throat. Thick, red blood poured from his neck and ran down his shirt.

Pasqual cried out but Pablo silenced his cries by taking the axe and planting it in his head.

When they passed the airport signs, memories rushed into Sebastian’s mind. The last time he had been to Boise was a few years ago. He had taken leave over Christmas and flew to meet Gordon and his family in McCall. That was one of the best times he had with his brother. They spent their days snowboarding at Brundage Mountain and their nights drinking cold beer and smoking cigars around the large fire pit. The mountains had always calmed him and disconnected him from the stresses in his life. He hoped that they still held that magical influence, because he needed it badly after the past few months.

The last twelve hours had been tense. Luke killing Brandon was a shock to both him and Annaliese. Following the shooting they promptly buried Brandon but left Jed and Flynn covered with a tarp in the back of Jed’s truck.

Sebastian had been tempted to take the vehicle but his conscience told him that the truck might be the only thing Jed’s family had for transportation. That could mean the difference between life and death, so he wanted to them to have it if they found them. He and Annaliese had discussed traveling to the ranch to tell them the news, but he thought that would be too risky. He didn’t want to roll into a firefight if Jed’s family reacted hostilely to their deaths, which was a distinct possibility.

Luke appeared calm and at peace with what he had done. Annaliese attempted to discuss the shooting with Luke. He would repeat the same thing he said right after he shot Brandon. “He was going to kill you. I couldn’t have him do that.”

Brandon was going to die yesterday regardless of who squeezed the trigger, that much was sure. Sebastian was just concerned about Luke’s mental state. The act of killing was easy, but the hard part was processing it internally. He and Annaliese finally agreed to leave him alone, and when the time was right they’d try to talk to him about it again.

“The best route is to go straight up Highway 55. I want to stay away from downtown so let’s take Eagle Road,” Sebastian said.

“However you think is best,” Annaliese responded, staring out the window. “You know, what about the mountain passes? Do you think they’ll be open?”

“I don’t know. I hope so, but we’ll go as far as we can.”

“Can you teach me to ski, Sebastian?” Luke asked.

Sebastian looked into the rearview mirror. “Sure, but I don’t ski, I snowboard.”

“That would be even cooler,” Luke said with a grin. It was the first time he had spoken in the past few hours.

“Sebastian, your brother’s name is Gordon, right?” Annaliese asked.

“Yeah, why?”

She pointed out the window. “Look.”

He looked where she was pointing and was dumbfounded. A wood sign with the name Gordon was plastered below a sign that read EAGLE ROAD.

“Is that for your brother?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to follow it.”

He turned off on Eagle Road and headed north.

All he could think was how strange that someone would post that. Questions filled his mind. Was that for his brother or someone else? If it was for him, what did they mean?

Barone had called for a tribunal to try Mayor Brownstein in the death of the Marine.

His hope was to show he could be judicious and wanted to play by the rules that Americans were accustomed to. The protestors had returned to the front of city hall and outside the ships within hours of Brownstein’s arrest. The size of the demonstrations was large. Not as big as the last one, but significant. The message coming from the group was that she should be released, and that though the Marine’s death was a tragedy, she didn’t pull the trigger. Conspiracy theories had even surfaced saying that Barone had planted the shooters to justify arresting her. Barone was beginning to feel like he couldn’t do anything to satisfy the people who opposed him.

Simpson and Roger Timms had reminded him that at least 80 percent of the town’s populations supported him and didn’t want him to leave or be tried. They didn’t agree with what he had done, but many were ready to forgive him.

He had joked with Simpson that if he could just get rid of the 20 percent, everything would be fine. That joke then turned to an actual idea. What if he could just arrest them all, take them to the edge of town, and drop them off? Problem solved. That, of course, was his sledgehammer fix, but if he wanted to stay put in Coos Bay, he’d have to be more diplomatic. The problem for him was that he thought diplomacy was for politicians. Barone liked to fashion himself the anti-politician. The urge to use his military might to take over was burning inside. It took most of his discipline to fight it. If Brownstein’s resistance continued past the tribunal he didn’t know if he could control his natural tendencies.

Roger then came up with an idea to negotiate with the others for her release. This could alleviate ratcheting tensions. The tribunal’s verdict had a predestined outcome and Barone had instructed them to ask for the death penalty if a guilty charge came back. This threat of death was given so he could put fear into her and make her change her tune.

After much deliberation he went with Roger’s idea. A meeting with those leaders who opposed him would be conducted immediately in city hall.

Barone typically liked to arrive very early to important meetings, but with this one he did the opposite. He wanted the people to wait for him.

Before he left his office, he placed his pistol in its holster. After what happened, he wasn’t about to walk into a room with a group of people who hated him and not have the means to protect himself.

As he strode in, feeling confident, he glared at each and every person there. The local leaders who opposed him had now grown to seven, including Brownstein.

Brownstein was sitting front and center. She too looked confident.

Taking his place at the head of the room, he began, “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m not going to rehash what just happened. That’s a waste of time.”

“You’re right; this is also a waste of time. Whatever little clever idea you think you have here, it won’t work,” Brownstein said, lashing out at him.

“Just wait a minute, Mayor. I want us all to make this work. Here are the facts: I have a treaty with the United States. They have allowed us to move forward with our own country, the Pacific States of America. In exchange, we will join forces against the Pan-American Empire.”

“The only country we belong to is the United States of America. I don’t believe a thing that comes out of your mouth anymore,” she berated him.

“Mayor, can we have a civil conversation?” Barone asked. He genuinely wanted to make it work, but her tone was beginning to annoy him, making it hard to control his temper.

“Colonel Barone, we don’t negotiate with terrorists and that is what you are to us. We will never make a deal with you, we will never obey you, we will never stop resisting you. These are the facts!”

Barone’s temper began to flare, but he again controlled it. “Mayor, what I am proposing is this: I cancel the tribunal and release you in exchange for you stopping these protests. The progress we have made in town here is now in jeopardy. We need to come back together as a people to make this work. We can’t be divided anymore.”

“We will never be united with the likes of you, you traitor!”

“Now, that is enough!” Barone yelled, his voice full of anger.

Brownstein now stood and yelled back, “We will never rest. We will fight you until we die. You have to kill us all if you want us to stop!” The other six nodded in agreement.

“Very well, this conversation has ended, I guess. If you’ll excuse me,” Barone said, and walked off. His face was flush with anger and a couple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead from his raised blood pressure as he strode toward the exit. His focus was singular. All he could think of now was finishing this for good.

The six councilors congratulated Brownstein on her steadfastness. They hadn’t taken notice of the intense look that had gripped Barone’s face as walked past them.

“We’re so proud of you,” one said.

Another said, “You’re the bravest person I know.”

Brownstein enjoyed the positive feedback. She exchanged some bravado talk with the others when the door opened. Barone was standing there again.

She looked up at him but the brave, confident face turned to one of terror.

Barone walked back in with an M-16 rifle. “You don’t want to talk, that’s fine. You told me what has to be done, and so you’ll get your wish. You all have to die!” That urge, that burning urge that he had managed to keep suppressed, was now too much for him to keep inside.

Brownstein looked at him but didn’t move, as she was frozen with fear. Three of them ran for other doors and the other three ducked behind chairs.

He took aim on her and pulled the trigger. The rifle roared to life with a three-round burst. The first bullet hit her in the abdomen, the second in the chest, and the third in neck. She fell backward and crashed into some chairs. By the time her body hit the floor, she was dead.

He rained bullets in the directions of the ones who had run for the exits. When the bolt locked back he had killed them. He didn’t have another magazine so he dropped the rifle and pulled out his pistol. The remaining three hadn’t moved since the gunfire began. He calmly approached each one.

Regardless of their pleading for mercy, he showed none. He put a bullet into each of their heads.

When he finished with them he exited the council chamber.

Simpson was waiting for him in the hall, a look of shock and terror on his face.

“Now what?” Simpson asked, not knowing what else to say. Fear of saying something filled him as he chose his words carefully.

“We’re going to end this little rebellion today. She said that it wouldn’t end unless we killed them, so kill them. Kill them all!”

“There’s no turning back from that, sir. You do know that?” Simpson cautioned.

“I’m fully aware. Make it happen! Get Timms on the horn. Let him know I’m disbanding the city governments. Everything falls under our military control as of now!”

“Copy that,” Simpson replied to Barone. He stepped away from Barone and keyed the mike on his radio handset. “All commanders, this is Charlie Actual. You are weapons free. I say again, you are weapons free. Disburse the crowd with all means necessary, to include deadly force, over.”

Nothing happened. The radio crackled and a voice came over, “Charlie Actual, the is Charlie Two, over.”

“Go, Charlie Two,” Simpson barked into the handset.

“We need a clarification of last command, over!”

Simpson gave Barone an uneasy stare.

Barone marched over to him, grabbed the handset, and yelled, “All units, this is Colonel Barone. Open fire on all the protestors, take no prisoners. I say again, kill all the protestors!”

There was a brief and uncomfortable pause but soon the roar of machine guns erupted outside, followed by screams.

Barone walked over to the large window and looked down on the street out front. The protestors were running in every direction in the hopes of escape. Some Marines were not firing, but others were. Clearly his commands were not universally being heeded. However, enough were obeying to ensure that not a soul would be left standing.

Barone was done with talking, done with politicians, done with democracy. He was now a dictator and would rule with an iron fist.

So many different scenarios had run through Samantha’s mind when Eric told her that Truman’s group had returned. Many of the scenarios had fighting breaking out between the groups. It was a probable outcome and this time she wasn’t going to have Haley anywhere close by. On their way to the front gate, she dropped Haley off at Eric’s house.

Pulling up to the gate, the first person Samantha saw was Nelson; he was badly beaten but alive. She closed her eyes and thanked God for answering her prayers.

If he was still alive, Truman and his group saw value in him and were here to negotiate for something.

When she took a rough count of the group she counted ten, seven men and three women. The one person missing in her count was Truman.

On her side of the gate, they had Eric, Mack, Frank, and Scott.

“Nelson! How are you?” Samantha asked.

He smiled and cracked a joke. “Oh my God, I’ve had the best time. I get a massage every morning, followed by filet mignon and lobster for dinner every night.”

She smiled. “Where’s Truman?” she asked.

A man she had never seen before stepped forward and spoke. “Truman’s dead. I killed him.”

Samantha was shocked to hear that.

“It’s true. They killed him last night,” Nelson confirmed.

“Truman was a smart guy, but he was too sentimental. We need someone in charge who thinks clearly. Your friend here is valuable. He’s not valuable to us dead so we’re here to bargain for his life,” the man said.

“What do you want?” Eric asked.

“We want a couple vehicles and food.”

Samantha was ready to take the deal without a second’s thought when Nelson blurted out, “Don’t do it, Sam. You need the food and the vehicles. If you give them two vehicles that will damage our ability to survive.”

“He’s right,” Eric agreed.

“This is a life. This is about Nelson’s life,” Samantha chided Eric.

“I’m talking about life too—yours, Haley’s, mine!” Eric snapped back.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” the man chimed in. “We can give you your friend and you give us what we ask for or we will just take it.”

“Don’t give in to them. If you fight then you at least have a chance!” Nelson said.

The man walked over to Nelson and hit him with a closed fist.

“We’ll do it!” Samantha shouted.

“No, we won’t!” Eric countered.

The rumbling sound of a vehicle caught all of their attention. Truman’s group looked in the direction of the sound and they all began to spread apart in anticipation of fighting who was coming.

“Are you expecting someone?” the man asked.

Samantha and the others exchanged looks before she answered him. “No, everyone in our group is here.”

“Jesus Christ, Samantha, is there anything else you want to give away?” Eric lambasted her.

The sound of the engine rumbling grew louder. Truman’s group grew tenser when the vehicle came into their view. A few lifted their weapons and took aim.

“Shoot the vehicle!” the man ordered.

With their entire group focused on the vehicle, Eric took action. He aimed and shot the man who was speaking for the group.

Nelson, with his hands tied behind his back, ran toward the gate. Samantha sprinted toward him.

Eric aimed at a second person and shot him.

In an instant, some in Truman’s group turned their guns on Eric and the others.

Mack managed to get off a few shots before he was hit three times, once in the stomach, once in the hip, and a round in his left leg. He fell to the ground and grunted in pain.

Eric was calm and steady as he aimed at the woman who had just shot Mack. He was squeezing the trigger when he was hit in the shoulder.

Samantha opened the gate for Nelson but not in time.

Several bullets struck him in the back and he fell into her arms. The force caused her to fall backward with him on top of her.

Scott had a shotgun and was blasting away. He hit one of the men, but then several of them targeted him and let loose a volley of fire. One of the shots was fatal; he fell to the ground with a gasp.

Frank ran over to help Nelson but a barrage of bullets rained down on him. He too was hit several times, with one fatal shot to the head.

Mack yelled out in pain, and from a kneeling position he shot and killed the man who had delivered the fatal shot to Frank.

The group trained all of their guns on Mack and fired. He yelled out before falling over dead.

There were still six people from Truman’s group alive and unhurt. Seeing everyone on the other side down they stopped shooting.

“We got them all!” one of the women cheered.

A man in the group walked inside the gate and up to Samantha, who was struggling under an unconscious Nelson. He raised his rifle at her.

She tried to reach for her pistol but couldn’t. Resigned to what was about to happen, she closed her eyes.

A shot rang out.

She opened her eyes and the man fell over backward.

The shot had come from behind her; she looked back and saw Seneca. Having more time, she wiggled out from underneath Nelson and pulled out her pistol.

Truman’s group targeted Seneca but she ran away, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared. She ran from the gate toward a large boulder about fifteen feet away.

Samantha sat up and fatally shot two of them.

The ferocity of the gun battle had caused everyone to forget about the mysterious vehicle.

Without notice, a Humvee plowed into the remaining three, the force of the impact tossing their bodies like rag dolls.

Nelson had come to and was coughing. He cried out in pain and rolled onto his back, his hands still tied.

Seneca ran to him as Samantha tried to stop the bleeding from his wounds.

Eric stood up and yelled, “Who is that?” pointing to the truck.

The driver’s door opened, and out stepped Gordon.

When Pablo had finally called it a night, his bloodlust had taken the lives of thirteen people. With each new person he tortured, more information and names were divulged. The insurgency had managed to penetrate his ranks by buying some of his men. He had never given it any thought, but if he was able to buy an army, it only proved that his army could also be bought. A mercenary army is only as loyal as the highest bidder. These men weren’t fighting for their country, they weren’t fighting for honor, or for something they believed in. It was all about money. This new insight made him realize that going forward, he wouldn’t be able to demand loyalty; he had to pay for it.

When he walked into the dining room he expected to see Isabelle but she wasn’t there. He grabbed the decanter of wine and a glass and took his seat at the head of the table.

After pouring the cabernet, he followed his wine-swilling ritual. He swirled it, then stuck his nose in the glass. After that, he examined the legs, impressed with what he saw. The final part of his ritual was taking the first sip. When the first taste of wine entered his mouth he swished it around, then swallowed.

“Sublime!” he said to no one in particular.

He looked at his watch. She was running about ten minutes late.

A small dining bell sat on the table. He picked it up and rang it. A servant quickly came in and asked, “Yes, Emperor?”

“Is the special treat ready to bring in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I’ll ring again when I want you to bring it in.”

“Yes, sir,” the servant said, then left the room.

At the same time the main dining room door opened and Isabelle came in. “So sorry I’m late. You know us ladies.”

“I understand, beauty takes time,” he softly said.

“Oh, is that the Paso Robles wine?” she remarked when she saw the decanter.

“Yes, it is, but I have something else I want you to try; it’s a surprise. I’ve also had the chef prepare something special for dinner too.”

“What’s the occasion?” she asked after kissing him and taking her seat.

“Today was a magical day!”

“Oh my God, I heard what happened to your car. I was worried sick until I heard you were safe and sound,” she said, reaching over and grabbing his hand.

“Are you hungry? I’m famished,” he said as he picked up the bell and rang it.

The servant came in with a large covered tray and placed it on the table in front of her. “Madam, would you care for some wine?”

“Yes, that would be fabulous.”

The servant grabbed a second decanter from a buffet table behind her and poured her a glass.

She had adopted his passion for wine and had even started her own ritual similar to his.

“Salud,” he said as he raised his glass.

They touched glasses and each took a sip.

“Oh my, that’s so good. It’s really rich, with a hint of… ah, I don’t know. Here, you try it,” she said, handing him the glass.

“No, thank you, my dear. I’m more than happy with this glass.”

“So you want to hear about my day?”

“Sure, I love knowing what you do! It really connects me to you.”

“Yes, I know how you love to know the ins and outs of what I do or who I talk to.” His tone had shifted a bit. Gone was the sweet demeanor.

“Ha, what does mean?” she asked, picking up on his more aggressive tone.

“Today, I started with torturing General Pasqual and two of his family members, a lovely lady by the name of Maria and her son, Jorge. After the general told me what I needed to know, I killed him, Jorge, and little Maria. Oh, little Maria. What’s the most accurate way to say it? Let’s just say she was fucked to death.”

The smile on her face vanished and fear gripped her.

“I then had the pleasure of torturing the captain who oversees the command post operations. He had so much to say, he really was the most vocal. He gave me so many names, and when I felt confident he was done, I split his head in two. Then it got really interesting! The names he gave me led to this wonderful young man by the name of Jordan.” Pablo stood up and removed the cover from the tray, exposing the head of a young man.

Isabelle shrieked when she saw the head.

“I understand you and him know each other very well. Look at how I decorated his head.”

She covered her eyes with her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at the head of her lover and leader of the local insurgency, Jordan DeMint. The intelligence that he and Isabelle provided to Conner and the United States had been valuable.

“Look at it!” he screamed at her.

She began to wail and shake.

“Now Jordan here, he was very tough, and I didn’t get too much out of him. Even after I cut off his cock and stuffed it in his mouth he wouldn’t give any information up. Fortunately for me, your father was the most forthright,” Pablo said as he rang the bell again.

The servant came in with another covered tray and placed it in front of her.

Pablo removed the cover. There on the tray was her father’s head.

“No! No!” she cried out.

“You asked me for mercy weeks ago. I showed you and your father mercy. I took you into my bed. I trusted you and you stabbed me in the back. You betrayed me!”

She began to crouch and tried to get up, but vertigo set in and she fell to the floor.

“I drugged your wine. When you wake up in a few hours you’ll be down in my playroom. I don’t know what I’ll do with you. Maybe you’ll follow in Maria’s footsteps or maybe I’ll just trim parts off of you slowly. I don’t know yet.”

She crawled on the floor toward the doors.

“I have to admit, you had me fooled. You really did,” he said as he lay on the floor next to her so he could see her face. “So before you close your pretty little eyes let me tell you what’s going to happen to your country. I’m going to rape, pillage, burn, and destroy everywhere I go, and since you and your president thought it fun to fuck with me, I will go after him now.” He rolled onto his back and looked at the white popcorn-textured ceiling. “I sent a few people to go shoot him, but now that seems so… what’s the word? Blasé. No, I’m going to cross the mountains like Hannibal crossed the Alps. I’m going to take my army and march on Cheyenne. I’m going to burn that city to the ground and stick President Conner’s head on a spike.” He leaned over and kissed her quivering lips. “Now, go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

When the news of the massacre outside city hall trickled down to Gunny Smith, he couldn’t believe it. He had been with Colonel Barone for years. He didn’t always agree with some of his actions, but now this was too much for him. There had been grumbling and dissent brewing within the ranks from the first day Barone had ordered the mutiny. Most of that had disappeared when they arrived in Coos Bay. Many of the Marines and sailors had grown attached to the town and the people. They knew it was politically difficult for Barone to navigate the most recent objections from the mayor but to murder them all, to gun down men, women, and even children in the street was too much.

“Lance Corporal Jones! Get your ass in here!”

Jones came into the partially lit living room of the small house that served as the in-town barracks for Gunny’s sniper team.

“Yes, Gunny.”

“Go find the rest of the team, have them report here ASAP.”

“That might be difficult; there’s a lot of chaos going on,” Jones lamented.

“I don’t want to hear excuses, Lance Corporal!”

“Yes, Gunny,” Jones said and turned around to leave.

“Hold on, one second!” Gunny barked.

Jones stopped abruptly and turned around. “Yes?”

Gunny exhaled deeply, then asked, “What’s your opinion on all of this shit?”

Jones looked surprised, then answered with a question. “You’re asking me for my opinion?”

“Yes.”

Jones looked apprehensive; he was afraid to speak his mind. The earlier events had created a tension even among the Marines. No one knew who to trust.

Seeing this delay in answering, Gunny added, “I’m not going to repeat what you say to anyone, I’m not some type of Gestapo. You can freely speak what is on your mind here.”

Sheepishly, Jones said, “Well, I think what the colonel did was wrong. I’m actually surprised he had Marines pull the trigger.”

“I’m not surprised. You have to remember, in the end, we’re just people too. We’re not robots, we all have emotions and individual thoughts.”

“Gunny, how do you feel about what happened today?”

“Jones, things are going to get a lot worse around here. What the Colonel did today will not end today, he just made things worse. We have a choice, you have a choice, but before any of us go off and do something rash, I want to pull the team together. You all are my family and we should talk about this like a family.”

Jones nodded, then left. As the door closed, Gunny relaxed into the large leather chair. He thought deeply about everything. When they had arrived in Coos Bay it felt like they were coming home. Now this peaceful and functioning city had been turned on its head. He couldn’t be a part of this new direction Barone was heading in, he just wasn’t sure what direction he should go in. He could just bite his tongue and keep his head down, but silence is nothing more than a voice of approval. Without a doubt a resistance movement would rise up, but for it to matter they would have to have the support of Marines. The question he then asked himself was, could he join that effort or would he and his team be better off outside? If they left, where would they go? The conversation he and Gordon had back in Klamath Falls then came to mind.

“Idaho, maybe we’ll go to Idaho.”

“Gordon!” Eric exclaimed.

Samantha turned around when she heard his name. She stood up and stared at her husband, frozen to the spot.

“Sam!” he called out to her as he walked briskly toward her.

“Oh my God, Gordon!” she cried out and ran into his arms.

They both embraced and held each other for a long time. He smothered her with kisses and kept saying, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Why? Why didn’t you come back?”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I failed you, I failed all of you, especially Hunter,” he said, as tears started to flow.

“I’m so mad at you. But I’m so happy you’re back,” she said, choking back tears.

“Where’s Haley? Is she okay?”

“She’s missed you so much, she’s been through a lot. She needs you.”

Seneca looked up from Nelson’s side and yelled, “Hey, you two, Nelson needs attention!”

Gordon and Samantha ran over to help out.

Nelson opened his eyes and said, “Am I dead?”

“No, buddy, you’re going to be okay,” Gordon said, holding his hand. “We gotta get him inside and get him treated!” They quickly loaded Nelson and Eric into the Humvee and took them to Lucy’s house.

Hearing of the death of her husband was a shock, but Lucy kept herself composed enough to treat Nelson and Eric. Her prognosis for Eric was good, but she wasn’t sure Nelson would make it. She was able to remove the bullets from Nelson’s back but he had lost a lot of blood. Now it was a matter of waiting and seeing if he’d survive.

Christopher, Cruz, and Wilbur offered to help but they found that they were more in the way than helpful. They exited the house for the Humvee. It provided a familiar place to sequester themselves while they waited for whatever came next.

As they sat discussing their next move, Christopher managed to make contact with the command element at Mountain Home Air Force Base over the radio.

Wilbur quickly took the radio from him, and after a back-and-forth with an officer, she detailed their situation. It appeared that Mountain Home was functioning, but greatly impaired. They would inform Cheyenne of Cruz’s location and situation, and radio back when they made contact. In the meantime, they were sending reinforcements to their coordinates.

Wilbur tossed the handset aside with a deep feeling of satisfaction. It had been a long time since she had felt… hopeful.

“Should we just head in that direction?” Christopher asked Wilbur.

“Mr. Vice President?” Wilbur directed the question toward Cruz, who was relaxing in the backseat.

“Let’s sit tight until we get word back from Cheyenne. I also think we owe it to Mr. Van Zandt to stick around in case we can be of help somewhere.”

“Speak of the devil,” Christopher chuckled as the front door opened and Gordon stepped out.

Gordon saw the three in the Humvee and nodded, acknowledging their presence. His shirt was stained red with blood. He looked at his hands. They too bore a deep stain from all the blood.

Cruz exited the Humvee and walked up to Gordon.

“Mr. Van Zandt.”

“Yeah,” Gordon responded. He was looking at his clothes now.

“We just made contact with Mountain Home. They are aware of our status and are contacting Cheyenne for further instructions.”

“It just gets everywhere,” Gordon commented, his focus on his pants.

“What’s that?” Cruz asked, looking confused.

“The blood, it gets everywhere. Kinda like sand in a way.”

“Ah, yeah,” Cruz answered him. “Mr. Van Zandt, I want to thank you for taking me as far as you did. I know the circumstances weren’t perfect but you did a good job, thank you,” Cruz said, putting out his hand.

Gordon looked at him, then his hand. He then held up his bloodstained hands.

“It’s okay,” Cruz said, his hand still hanging out there.

Gordon took it firmly and shook it. “My pleasure, Mr. Vice President.”

“Secretary Wilbur told me your story, at least a little bit.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” Gordon joked.

“For whatever it’s worth, we have a lot more in common than you think.”

Gordon just started at him, not knowing what to say.

“Both of us are doing what we think best to protect our families. I just believe that doing whatever we can to get this country back on its feet is the best way. I wish I could convince you of that,” Cruz said.

Gordon looked at the now thin and weathered vice president. It was odd in so many ways that the Vice President of the United States was standing in front of him and having a conversation. He opened his mouth to speak but knew what he’d say wouldn’t add to the conversation and now was not the time to get into a discussion.

Cruz waited for a response from Gordon but finally figured one wasn’t coming. “Let me know if we can help in any way, okay?” Cruz finished and turned around to go back to stand by the Humvee to await the troops.

“Mr. Vice President,” Gordon called out.

Cruz stopped and turned around.

“There is something you can do for me.”

Cruz stepped back up to Gordon and said, “What is that?”

Gordon hesitated.

“What is it?”

“When you get back to Cheyenne can you make a call back to Coos Bay for me?”

“Sure. That’s an easy request. Who am I calling?”

“Her name is Brittany McCallister. I don’t know where she’s living, but Gunnery Sergeant Smith with STA platoon, Second Battalion, Fourth Marines, will know where to find her if you can’t. Tell her that I made it home.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Tell her that.”

“Sure thing,” Cruz said and turned back around.

Gordon watched him get back into the Humvee. He then looked at his bloody hands one more time. Seeing the blood on his hands took him back to that day in Fallujah after he had been pelted with shrapnel. He remembered looking at his bloody hands then and wondering if he’d make it out of there alive.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Haley squealed out from behind him.

The dark memories were washed away with the sweet sounds of Haley’s voice. He turned and saw his precious little daughter.

“Daddy!” she screamed out and ran toward him.

Tears welled up in his eyes when he saw her. He could feel the strength leave his legs as he fell to his knees and opened up his arms. “My baby girl! Come here!”

She ran straight into his arms and hugged him tightly.

Gordon couldn’t control his emotions and he began to cry loudly. “Oh, my baby girl, how I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered as he kissed her face and head.

“Daddy, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too, honey.”

“Why didn’t you come home sooner? I needed you!” she said, holding his face in her little hands.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but Daddy had to do something,” he said softly, the tears streaming down his face.

She rubbed the healing wound on his face and said, “What happened, Daddy?”

“Oh, I got cut, that’s all.”

The mention of his face brought back memories of Hunter. He pulled her in close again and continued to cry.

The door opened and Samantha stepped out to the emotional scene. She took a step but stopped herself. She wanted to go to them both, but she knew that Gordon and Haley needed this moment. Tears began to flow from her too as she watched them both hold one another.

“Daddy, how did Hunter die?”

The question shocked him, but it was an honest one and needed to be answered.

Samantha heard the question and now took this uncomfortable moment to step in. “Haley, sweetie, it’s cold and you don’t have a jacket on.”

“No, Sam, let me answer her question.”

“Really?”

“Please, she has a right to know,” Gordon implored.

“I don’t think this is an appropriate topic,” Samantha scolded him.

Ignoring her, he looked at Haley and said, “Haley, sweetheart, your big brother died bravely. He was strong.”

“I miss him every day,” Haley whimpered, tears now coming to her eyes.

“I miss him too,” Gordon said, and pulled her in close again. Just as he hugged her he reached out and grabbed Samantha’s hand.

At first, she flinched from his touch. He reached again; this time she allowed it and knelt down.

He looked at her and said, “I love you, Samantha, so much. I can never say I’m sorry enough for all the pain I’ve caused you.”

She touched his face. His warm tears ran through her fingers. “I love you too, Gordon.”

Dylan ran into Conner’s office unannounced.

“Mr. President, good news!”

“It better be with that kind of entrance.”

“Vice President Cruz is alive and well. He’s in Boise, Idaho.”

“Boise?”

“I don’t know the specifics, but I just got off the phone with the governor of Idaho and they’ve sent troops to his location.”

Conner interrupted Dylan and said, “I don’t care about the details, send a few helicopters to bring them back here. Go get them!”

“I thought you’d say that, so I gave the order to Baxter. Helicopters are on the way, sir!” Dylan exclaimed, then left the room as fast as he had entered it.

Conner swung around in his chair and stood up. He made a fist and raised it in the air. “Yes!”

The news was very good indeed. Having Cruz back would be a big morale boost. He missed his old friend and was excited for the future. He knew together they could rebuild a future in Cheyenne.

The one major obstacle was the PAE. But with Barone aligned, and additional ground combat elements close by, they could challenge Pablo and his mercenary army. But today wasn’t a time to think about those challenges. Today was a day to celebrate, and that is just what he intended to do. He jumped up, grabbed his coat, and headed out the door.

He saw Dylan, who was dialing a number on the phone. He interrupted him and said, “When you’re finished with the call, meet me downstairs, let’s go celebrate. I hear Pat has a damn good Irish coffee!”

With a smile from ear to ear, Dylan joyfully responded, “I’ll be right down, sir!”

Conner walked into the hallway and again fist-pumped the air with excitement. After weeks and weeks of bad news, this was a bright spot. Cheyenne had so far proven to be a bold and successful move and now he’d have his friend and colleague back. He wasn’t optimistic enough to think that more bad news wasn’t around the corner, but he decided to enjoy the brief respite that came his way today.

“What the hell happened here?” Sebastian gasped as he pulled up to the gates of Eagle’s Nest.

“I don’t think we should go in,” Annaliese cautioned.

“That last Gordon sign pointed to this place right here. I have to check it out. Slide over and get behind the wheel,” Sebastian said as he stepped out of the truck.

Dead bodies were scattered everywhere.

Sebastian walked by each one to make sure they weren’t Gordon or anyone else he knew.

He moved a few out of the way so Annaliese could pull in without running over the corpses.

Once in the neighborhood Sebastian jumped back in. “Let’s drive around.”

The neighborhood seemed empty until they saw a small group of people huddled around a Humvee.

“Over there, that looks promising,” he said as she pulled up to the house.

Everyone around the Humvee stared at the truck as it pulled in. Gordon didn’t know who it was and was on alert. They didn’t think Truman’s group would be back, but they could never be sure. He kept his hand on his gun, just in case.

Sebastian looked at Annaliese and said, “Stay here and keep the truck running.”

Gordon’s grip on his pistol tightened as he saw the passenger door open. Wilbur too had her gun at the ready.

When the door opened, Gordon couldn’t believe his eyes. There in front of him was his brother, Sebastian.

“Sebastian?!” Gordon asked, elated. His eyes lit up.

Sebastian squinted and noticed his brother. “Gordon!”

“What the hell!” Gordon exclaimed.

Cruz looked astonished at what seemed like an endless parade of reunions.

Sebastian ran up and hugged his brother.

“What are you doing here?” Gordon asked.

“I was heading to McCall when I saw the signs.”

“Same here! I saw the signs with my name on it.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asked, confused by Gordon last comment.

“I only arrived here a little before you did.”

“I don’t understand.” Sebastian looked at him oddly.

“It’s a long story; we’ll have plenty of time to share.”

Annaliese opened her door and exited.

“Who’s this?” Gordon asked.

Annaliese walked up to Gordon, and just before she hugged him, Sebastian said, “Gordon, this is Annaliese, my wife. Annaliese, my brother, Gordon.”

“Wife?”

“You’re not the only one with long stories,” Sebastian joked.

“Uncle Sebastian!” Haley squealed when she saw him from the house. She ran from the house and right into his arms.

Sebastian held her tight and squeezed her. He didn’t want to let her go. Holding her, he realized how much he had missed her and Hunter. “Where’s Hunter?” he asked, looking toward the house where Haley had appeared from.

Gordon looked down and couldn’t quite say it.

Haley didn’t have that problem. She said, “Hunter died.”

A grim look wiped away the joy he had. “What? What happened? Oh my God. Gordon, I’m so sorry, brother.”

Gordon didn’t answer right away. With a slight tremor in his voice he said, “Let’s talk about it later.”

“Sure thing.”

They all had so much to share.

The remainder of the daylight was spent removing the bodies of Truman’s people and preparing the corpses of those in their group. With the ground frozen, Gordon had ordered that Truman’s group be burned. Mack, Scott, and Frank’s bodies would be buried aboveground. The numerous granite rocks that littered the surrounding area would be used to cover their bodies until the spring.

Troops from Mountain Home had made it to the community less than an hour before and had taken Wilbur, Cruz, and Christopher with them. Gordon said his good-byes and Cruz reminded him that he’d pass on his message.

With the evening now all to themselves, Gordon, Samantha, Haley, Sebastian, Annaliese, and Luke gathered inside Samantha’s house for dinner and drinks.

The yellow glow of dozens of candles illuminated the stark dining room. Gordon rose from his chair at the head of the table and raised his glass of wine. “I want to give a toast.”

Everyone raised their glasses and waited for him to continue. “To those loved ones here and to those loved ones who will never sit at our table again.”

After he finished the room was silent. In each person’s mind thoughts came of those loved ones who were lost.

For Gordon, Samantha, Haley, and Sebastian, there were thoughts of Hunter.

For Annaliese, she thought of her father and her mother.

And for Luke, he thought of his parents and even of Brandon.

Gordon, still standing, looked carefully at each person sitting before him. When he came to Samantha’s face, he smiled and winked.

She returned his wink and smile but also blew a kiss.

There was much for them to discuss but now was not the time for that. Tonight they would revel in their reunion.

“I can’t believe you’re married,” Gordon remarked, taking a sip of wine.

“I know, sometimes I can’t believe it either,” Sebastian replied.

“For what it’s worth, she seems like a good woman and I think Mom and Dad would have been proud.”

“I don’t think about them all that much. That’s sad, right? Is there something wrong with me?” Sebastian asked.

“Not at all, brother, that was literally another lifetime ago. I do miss them, but I know Mom wouldn’t have wanted to live like this and Dad would have been—”

“A stress case!” Sebastian injected.

“Yeah, he would’ve been for sure,” Gordon laughed.

“So what happened?”

“With what?” Gordon asked, suspecting the direction the question would lead.

“With Hunter?”

“I fucked up, pure and simple,” Gordon answered somberly.

“I’m sure it’s more complicated than that,” Sebastian countered.

“It’s not. Like someone told me, I made a choice and that choice was the wrong one; it got Hunter and others killed.”

“I can’t say enough how sorry I am for your loss.”

Gordon just stared at the hot coals in the fire pit. Thoughts of Hunter flashed in his mind.

“So where did you go?” Sebastian asked.

“Where didn’t I go? By the way, I ran into your old unit in Oregon,” Gordon said, clearly attempting to divert the topic of the conversation.

“No shit?”

“Yeah, I was in a bit of a scrape in Oregon and guess who showed up like the Seventh Cavalry? Gunny Smith!”

“Seriously? That’s crazy!”

Gordon and Sebastian chuckled about the irony of the encounter.

“He told me what happened with you. They chalked you up as probably dead, but I just knew in my heart you couldn’t be. I refused to believe it.”

“I thought about what you did and I have to say, you’re braver than I am. I probably would have just gone along with it,” Gordon said smugly.

“That’s because you gave up on the country a long time ago,” Sebastian said.

“Well, like I’ve said a hundred times, it gave up on me. Don’t fool yourself, Sebastian. Those bastards are only taking care of themselves right now while the rest of us fight each day to survive.”

“I wouldn’t be that cynical. I think most of the people who ran this country into the ground are now gone. I talked with the vice president and he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Of course he seemed like a nice guy, he’s a politician,” Gordon countered.

“I guess there’s no convincing you that our country means more than just those politicians who run it. You used to believe that we defined our country by our beliefs and our values.”

“Well, I was an idiot to believe that and look what it got me. Almost killed.”

“You weren’t an idiot. You inspired me to do something greater than myself. Even Mom and Dad were proud.”

“Can we talk about something else, please?” Gordon pleaded.

“I’m gonna hit the sack,” Sebastian said as he stood up.

“Hey, don’t run off because I’m being an ass, please stay, it’s been a long time since we just… chatted,” Gordon said.

“We’ll have more time, I promise you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m tired and it’s… shit, it’s almost past three a.m.”

Gordon took a large swallow of wine and sat the glass down next to him. He looked up at Sebastian, smiled, and said, “Good night, brother. It’s really good to have the family back together.”

“It sure is,” Sebastian agreed, then walked inside the house.

Gordon leaned back in the chair and looked at the bountiful stars above him. The vastness of space had always intrigued him and frightened him at the same time. What was so intriguing was the thought of what else existed out there, the different worlds and unusual places. What frightened him was how uncertain and chaotic the universe was. He remembered watching programs about the solar system. All the astronomers would comment that Earth was perfectly positioned, that it was in the “Goldilocks” place in our planetary system. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, its location was perfect, which allowed for the temperatures to be just right. This perfect location in the solar system made it a world that could harbor life, a world that was a sanctuary for thousands of different species all unique to this specific place and time. Gordon needed to get himself and his family to their “Goldilocks” space. He thought of McCall as that spot on this world—where there weren’t too many people, where natural resources were abundant—where it was just right. He also knew that his sanctuary was more than a place; it also resided in those he called friends and family.

When the snows receded in the spring, he, Samantha, Haley, Sebastian, Annaliese, Eric, Melissa, Beth, Nelson, Seneca, Gretchen, and Luke would venture to their sanctuary to begin a new life. They would arrive with the lessons of their past. Gordon prayed those lessons would help guide them to a more certain and hopeful future.