Choose Freedom: A Post-Apocalyptic Fiction Series (The Boston Brahmin Book 6) Page 12

  “Apparently, it worked in Japan and Colorado,” added Lieutenant Governor Polito.

  Donald and Sarge smiled at each other. Then Governor Baker had one last question.

  “How’re we gonna pay for it?”

  Chapter 26

  Saturday, February 11, 2017

  9:30 a.m.

  100 Beacon

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Sarge and Julia lay in their bed at 100 Beacon for the first time in three months. Although their bungalow at 1PP had become a cozy place to ride out this apocalyptic storm, 100 Beacon was home. When Sarge told Julia that he wanted to do his broadcast from here and spend the weekend away from the activity of Prescott Peninsula, she was thrilled.

  Boston was beginning to return to normal, or at least as normal looked in the nineteenth century. Power was being restored to pockets of the city, and clean water was being pumped to highly populated areas. Incidents of crime had dropped to pre-collapse levels. Gone were the protests and accompanying societal unrest. Jobs associated with the rebuilding effort provided wages to those willing to work, which translated to less petty theft. Overall, pride was being restored in the souls of Bostonians.

  “We still have lots of work to do,” said Sarge as he held Julia in his arms. “The Sun Belt states from Texas to North Carolina are seeing the same results that we’ve experienced in New England.”

  “What’s next?” asked Julia.

  “We’ve got to tie the two regions together, which means everything from New York to Virginia has to be brought into the fold,” replied Sarge. “It’s gonna require a lot of fortitude on the part of the military and the burgeoning ranks of the Mechanics to gain control of cities like New York, Philly, Baltimore, and ultimately, D.C.”

  “Do you have a strategy?”

  “Well, negotiation probably won’t work.” Sarge laughed. “Sadly, it’ll take an overwhelming force coupled with the assistance of local residents to flush out the worst criminal gangs in these cities. New York and Washington will be the most difficult, from the intel I’ve received.”

  Julia snuggled into Sarge’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. He was the same man she’d fallen in love with many years ago. Once they’d rekindled their relationship two Christmases ago, she vowed to never let go of him.

  Now, Sarge was elevated, albeit reluctantly, to a position of a world power broker. He was the new John Morgan, and he instantly gained the respect of world leaders and financiers. Sarge had taken on an additional role. It would’ve been much simpler for him to use the collapse of the grid for profit. But he loved his country. He saw this crisis as an opportunity to set the United States on solid footing. Sarge was using his newfound power for a noble purpose, and she was proud of him.

  She scratched his chest as they lay there in the early morning light. Julia’s breathing deepened as she rubbed her hands down Sarge’s arms, where she found his right hand and fiddled with his fingers. Julia mindlessly twirled the ring around his pinky finger as she enjoyed the moment.

  Ring!

  “Sarge,” whispered Julia. “Um, what’s this?”

  “Nunya.”

  “Sarge,” she insisted.

  “What?”

  “Please don’t make me break your fingers to get an answer.”

  Sarge pushed himself up in bed and pulled the ring off his finger. He turned back to Julia, who’d pulled the covers up to her chin in eager anticipation of what was about to happen next. Sarge had tears in his eyes, which caused Julia’s eyes to well up.

  “Julia, that night in December when we had dinner together at Stephanie’s, I knew that you were more than my best friend. You were the love of my life.

  “Since then, I can’t stand to be apart from you. I look forward to unwinding with you at the end of a hectic day—sharing our thoughts and dreams.

  “You’re the one that cares for me during times of sadness when I’m troubled, and you, my love, are the only one that matters when we celebrate triumphs. I never tire of holding you close, having you beside me when I go to sleep, or waking up next to you every morning.

  “My life would be over without you—the most important and beautiful part of my existence. You’re the kind of woman every man dreams of marrying, and I’d be proud to make you my wife.

  “Julia, will you marry me?”

  Chapter 27

  Friday, February 17, 2017

  8:00 p.m.

  Prescott Peninsula

  Quabbin Reservoir, Massachusetts

  Sarge rolled his head and neck over his shoulders to ease some of the tension. Over the past several months, he’d made several addresses to the nation. None had been broadcast as widely as this one, nor were the others near as important.

  The repeaters had been put into place in strategic locations from Albany, New York, to Richmond, Virginia. Julia put the word out via the Digital Carrier Pigeon that a major address was coming and that all patriots in the central Atlantic states should listen and then tell their friends.

  Sarge started out by detailing their successes in New England and the Southeastern United States. The central locations of Boston and Atlanta had become centers of trade and commerce. Jobs were available to the able-bodied willing to work, and relief supplies were distributed to those who weren’t.

  He shared the news that Texas was now actively assisting in the recovery effort after they’d dispatched the UN forces back into Mexico. Through Abbie’s negotiating efforts with Governor Abbott, they’d suggested Arkansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma join the Texas Interconnection, an autonomous power grid that was unaffected by the cyber attack.

  Tonight, Sarge had the ear of the entire East Coast and much of the Midwest located east of the Mississippi. For the first time, he was speaking from a prepared script. His words were carefully chosen. “Be ready, my friends. The time has come for us to confront the common enemies of man—tyranny and oppression. Choose freedom is more than just a slogan. Now it’s a call to arms for all freedom-loving Americans who are ready to take their country back and restore America to its former glory.

  “To the patriots in the Empire State, remember Excelsior—ever upward. My fellow Americans in Philadelphia, where the First Continental Congress was held, remember that you stand for virtue, liberty, and independence. For Virginians young and old, sic semper evello mortem tyrannis—thus always shall you bring death to tyrants.”

  Sarge repeated the key phrases intended for the Mechanics in the pivotal states of New York, Pennsylvania and Virginia. These code words put them on alert. It was time. One if by land, two if by sea.

  “This evening, I’m talking about the fate of our nation, the direction of our country, and our children’s future. Many Americans have perished and others have been stripped to their core. Despite our tragedies, I ask you to be tenacious in your desire to restore freedom. Remain steadfast in your purpose to bring back our republic.

  “We are Americans, and therefore, we are winners. We’ve always admired the best ballplayers or the first to break certain ethnic or gender barriers. Throughout our history, we’ve fought battles and won. The thought of losing is wholly unacceptable to most of us. As a people, we are proud and courageous. Remember, your bravery encourages the bravery of your fellow patriot. Have comfort in knowing that the man next to you is willing to fight for this nation every bit as much as you are. Together, we will persevere!

  “Always choose freedom! Stay strong, and God bless America!”

  Chapter 28

  Monday, February 20, 2017

  1:00 p.m.

  1PP War Room

  Quabbin Reservoir, Massachusetts

  Sarge paced the floor as he waited for news from the communications room and Julia. She’d thrown him out over an hour ago after he’d asked, “Heard anything?” for the tenth time. Early this morning, the Mechanics began a series of tactical operations against the Citizen Corps headquarters located in New York and Philadelphia.

  FEMA Region II, which comprised the state
s of New York and New Jersey, was coming around. Sarge’s message to choose freedom had resonated with the vast majority of the survivors across the region. In the early days following the collapse, as Steven and Katie returned to Boston from Washington, they’d encountered many patriots in the small towns of New York. There were even some who’d embraced the movement and placed Rebellious flag tattoos on their arms.

  The enormous task of liberating Newark, New Jersey and New York City was daunting. The regional governor, the current mayor of New York, was a socialist and a close ally of the President’s. The mayor, nicknamed Mayor Selfie for his penchant of globe-trotting and elbow-rubbing with celebrity politicians, enjoyed the power afforded him as a Citizen Corps governor.

  Unlike many of the other regional governors, Mayor Selfie embraced the use of the United States military forces to subdue the citizens of his region. Over time, however, many of the soldiers out of Fort Dix refused to raise their weapons against fellow Americans, and they left their posts to return to their families.

  Mayor Selfie brought the rogue elements of the Army and assigned them to be his personal security detail. Also, they were specifically tasked to ensure equality between the citizens—simply take from the rich and give to the poor.

  Brad informed Sarge that he’d found a mole within the mayor’s inner circle. For three weeks, via Brad’s contacts at Fort Dix, they were able to establish a pattern of activities and movements undertaken by Mayor Selfie and his team.

  In the next seventy-two hours, covert teams of the Mechanics, trained by Drew, would enter New York City, rendezvous with like-minded patriots hidden within the five boroughs, and initiate a plan to attack the Citizen Corps regime on many fronts. The war for New York would begin.

  Sarge’s challenge in Philadelphia was a bigger one. The Citizen Corps governor in Region III was the son of the former Vice President. He was beloved by much of the region as a former soldier, as well as having the sympathies of many after the tragic death of his father at the time of the cyber attack.

  Overtaking the Philadelphia offices of the Citizen Corps might dislodge the governor from his post, but it wasn’t likely to rally the citizens of Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland who were loyal to him. While the states of Virginia and West Virginia were clearly pro-Sarge, the path to liberating the disaster that had become of Washington, D.C., began with the suggested cooperation of Citizen Corps Governor Hunter Borden.

  Sarge owned a copy of Vom Kreige, translated On War, written by notorious Prussian general and military strategist Carl von Clausewitz. General von Clausewitz stressed that there was a moral and political aspect to war, which was just as critical to winning as the use of force.

  Needing to stay occupied as he awaited news, Sarge looked for this renowned treatise on the philosophy of war and found it on the war room’s bookshelves. He thumbed to the first of several bookmarked pages and then read a passage aloud.

  “Tactics is the art of using troops in battle; strategy is the art of using battles to win the war.”

  A military man might interpret this to mean the implementation of strategy by short-term decisions on the movement of troops and employment of weapons on the field of battle.

  Sarge had a different interpretation, one that made sense in the ideological war being fought. As he attempted to drive the disciples of tyranny from power, he would use a combination of military successes and political victories.

  In the case of New York, a tyrannical, socialist Citizen Corps governor could only be removed by force. However, in Philadelphia, the home of Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, only a bold political maneuver would gain the confidence of the leader and the respect of the citizens of the region.

  Drew Jackson was leading the operation, which was underway as Sarge waited. This was step one of a strategy that would impress General von Clausewitz. Sarge would then have to prove that he was a consensus builder.

  Julia entered the room unannounced, and she was smiling. “Sarge, I just heard from Drew. Borden and his family are secured. Not happy, but secured.”

  Sarge let out a sigh of relief. Kidnapping the sitting Citizen Corps governor and his family was a logistical challenge. Because Philadelphia wasn’t as strategically important as New York or Washington in the Central Atlantic region, Borden didn’t enjoy the levels of military security afforded his counterpart in New York. Still, it was not an easy task and Drew was proving himself to be an excellent operator, just like Steven was.

  “Come here,” said Sarge as he took a step toward Julia. “I’m sorry if I drove you nuts.”

  “No problemo.” Julia laughed as she hugged Sarge and kissed him on the cheek. “There’s a lot going on today, after all.”

  “Tomorrow is just as difficult as today’s operation,” said Sarge. “We’ll be lighting a couple of powder kegs that are sure to get the attention of our President. Do you have the broadcast network set up for Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Delaware?”

  “Not a hundred percent,” replied Julia. “But it’s good enough to reach the vast majority of the citizens in the suburbs and rural areas. I have an idea that might help us reach the inner city neighborhoods of Philly and Baltimore without risking the lives of our people. Borden could help.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Let’s air-drop some leaflets,” replied Julia. “It’s a form of psychological warfare used since the hot air balloons flew over Paris in the late eighteen hundreds. The Brits used low-flying aircraft to drop aerial postcards over German trenches in an attempt to convince the Germans to surrender. Just a couple of years ago, leaflets were dropped throughout Syria to deter possible ISIS recruits from joining their cause.”

  “I like it,” said Sarge. “How could Borden help?”

  “Symbolically, if we could print at least one batch on the parchment paper at Franklin’s Print Shop in downtown Philadelphia, we can remind people of our nation’s founding. Of course, I’ll have to generate the rest on our copy machine here at 1PP.”

  Sarge thought for a moment and then picked up Vom Kriege. He carefully placed it back on the shelf. Times changed, and so did the principles of war. However, political warfare carried forward one central premise—one of the best ways to overcome an adversary is to make him a friend.

  Chapter 29

  Tuesday, February 21, 2017

  9:00 a.m.

  Kirby Episcopal House at Glen Summit

  Mountain Top, Pennsylvania

  At its cruising speed of one hundred sixty miles an hour, it took Morgan’s Sikorsky S-76 less than two hours to arrive at the Kirby Episcopal House near Mountain Top, Pennsylvania. Flying low across the Poconos, Sarge studied the snow-covered ground and wondered how many people were able to survive the winter.

  The remote area of central Pennsylvania located southwest of Scranton was chosen because of Borden’s father’s familial ties there. The Vice President was born in Scranton and frequently used this fact during his national political campaigns although he’d been a resident of Delaware for decades. Sarge wanted to remind Borden of the importance of family to his dad, and the roots they had to Pennsylvania and the Scranton community.

  He chose the Kirby Episcopal House at Glen Summit to put the Borden family at ease. This was now a very familiar local landmark operated by the Episcopal diocese. The Bordens would feel comfortable in a location that maintained full power via its solar array constructed several years prior. The Kirby House was also unaffected by the collapse. It still operated under the watchful eye of an Episcopal priest and his staff.

  Kirby House was the onetime summer home of dime-store magnate Fred Morgan Kirby, the founder of a very successful chain of so-called five-and-dimes which later merged for a handsome profit with Woolworth’s, at the suggestion of Kirby’s cousin, John Morgan’s grandfather.

  After the Sikorsky landed, Sarge and Abbie entered the one-hundred-year-old former summer home of Kirby. Sarge was immediately struck by the fact the rooms remained decorated in their orig
inal style. After he was greeted by Drew, he was led into a parlor that was filled with Victorian wicker and photos by a famous Bostonian, Wallace Nutting, which adorned the two-foot-thick walls. An impressive elk head mounted under the elaborate plaster moldings above a roaring fire finished off the country feel.

  The Kirby House had the look and ambience of a building that should host a political summit. As he waited for Borden to be brought down from his room, Sarge hoped that they could come to a meeting of the minds.

  Borden entered the room with the Episcopal priest who resided in Kirby House. Sarge and Abbie rose from the sofa to greet them.

  “Good morning, I am Father Dave Canan. You may call me Father Dave, or Dave, since we are among friends, I presume.”

  Sarge and Abbie shook hands with the priest. “Of course, Father Dave,” said Sarge. “I’m Henry Sargent, but please call me Sarge. All my friends do.”

  Abbie spoke up and introduced herself to Father Dave. She then approached a quiet Governor Borden and extended her hand. “Hunter, I’m sorry that we have to meet again under these circumstances. Please forgive us for having to use these tactics to speak with you.”

  Borden shook her hand but appeared standoffish. “I’ve been assured repeatedly by Father Dave as well as my kidnappers that my family won’t be harmed.”

  “We just need to spend a little time together, and then we will escort you into Scranton to visit your extended Borden family,” said Abbie. “We’ll make the arrangements to notify your security detail of your whereabouts.”

  “Governor Borden, I’m Henry Sargent.” Sarge extended his hand and Borden reluctantly shook it.

  “I know who you are, sir. You’re the voice behind Choose Freedom radio. You must know that you commit acts of treason against this country every time you speak out against the administration and its recovery efforts.”