Which would be a little more difficult now. He couldn’t imagine himself ever going back and teaching at the university. The authorities would surely put the pieces together eventually and find out who did this. A distinguished fifteen-year career as a respected chemistry professor flushed down the drain. Just like that. Marcus switched of the radio and drove in silence.
Compared to what he’d lost already, who cared about work? No, the real problem was his revenge wasn’t as fulfilling as he expected. That could only mean he hadn’t gotten enough.
On his way back from the state capitol, he cruised past his old home in Gainesville. The debris was left exactly as it had been that terrible day. Well, almost. Someone had removed the aircraft wreckage. The anger at the only monument his wife and daughter would ever have being hauled away like so much trash brought the hate back.
Marcus wasn’t even with them that dark, sunny day during the initial invasion of Florida. He was across the street, talking to a pro-Fed neighbor about keeping an eye on the house while they were gone. He’d waited way too long to evacuate his family. Who could’ve imagined that the fighting would reach so far south? Everyone knew it was supposed to be more or less symbolic resistance. Maybe a short firefight, but then one side or the other must cave in. Instead, the whole world collapsed.
He only remembered his neighbor’s open mouth, a bone-rattling roar and then the heat. When he managed to roll over after the explosion, he crawled aimlessly through the black fog so thick you needed a knife to cut through it. Eventually, he reached a clearish space and his heart stopped.
Only the tail fin of an F-22 jutted into the sky from where his garage had stood. Maybe if, by some miracle, Rachel and Jessie had stopped packing the car and were back in the house…it wouldn’t have made a difference. The whole property, as well as the neighbors on both sides, were one solid wall of flames. The only thing not burning was the tail assembly of that damn jet. A marker from God to show where his family had been taken.
He didn’t waste any more time crying down memory lane. The school’s ROTC instructor was missing. Supposedly, gone underground and joined the rumored resistance. Through a friend of a friend, he made a date for tonight to grab a beer and discuss politics. The way his seatbelt dug into his gut, maybe the middle-aged professor wasn’t in the best shape. Nor had he ever even touched a gun in his entire life. Not a promising career change.
On the other hand, the insurgents might just be able to find use for someone that could safely make bombs from a thousand everyday ingredients. He also wasn’t just a chemist…he was a damn good teacher.
Shortly before the government announced their humane amnesty plan, an alphabet soup of federal agencies swarmed over the state and hauled off thousands. Rubber-stamped warrants or not, it was an old-fashioned purge of dangerous characters. Well, they missed the most dangerous person with their lettres de cachet: the intelligent man with nothing left to live for except revenge.
Washington, DC
“Damnit David, we’ve been on opposite sides for years, but this isn’t some budget showdown. You people can’t keep playing these games. You offer blanket amnesty one day, total war the next. We need a concentric and consistent plan to put this country together again. It’s time to quit screwing around. We’re talking about the future of the Union. The future of democracy!” The president subconsciously avoided the windows in the refurbished Oval Office.
The new Speaker of the House, the hastily appointed replacement to that unlucky post, held up his hand. “For once, you’re correct. That’s why we can’t afford new elections right now. Probably not for a long time to come. You’re the best man to handle this crisis. Mr. President, your resignation will not be accepted.” They both pretended like that mattered.
“Meaning I’m the sacrificial lamb? What did I ever do to you? Seriously, you’re taking this in the wrong direction. We’ve lost control. One side has to give in or this division will be permanent. Elections allow everyone to save a little face, as well.”
“Damnit, Mr. President! You were right; we were wrong. There, are you happy? When’s the last time some Representative sat in your office and told you that? Your term has already been extended for one year by a near unanimous vote, something unprecedented in US history, and now you want to back down?”
After fighting uphill for so long, the president struggled to grasp that other politicians could believe in him. As much as he tried to rationalize it, he knew that things had moved way beyond who was sitting in the Oval Office. Too much had changed, and too many people liked the changes. Whether the East or the West or whatever side won didn’t matter much. Either way, peace would only be found on the other side of war. Maybe he could speed up that process and make it as painless as possible.
“Ok, but if you’re going to stick me with all this responsibility, you’re going to give me the necessary authority. No standing around acting innocent and self-righteous when I send American soldiers to fight against other American soldiers. No pretending you had nothing to do with it.”
The Speaker didn’t even try to act as if he had no idea what the president meant. “I understand. That’s the main issue I wanted to discuss today.” He delved into his bag and tossed the president a binder. There were no aides or advisors in this meeting.
“Here’s what we’ve been working on since California went off the deep end. The vote’s in the morning.”
It didn’t take him long to read it all. The resolution was short and vague for a reason.
“My God. I’m surprised this even got out of committee. Maybe you can swing the votes, but the Senate will never accept this. It’ll take so much watering down to pass as to be meaningless.”
“Give us some credit, Mr. President. This draft was written by a bicameral and bipartisan committee. No political games this time. Its passage is a mere formality.” The congressman grinned wide, crossed his legs and threw a flabby arm over the sofa’s back.
“Sir, I don’t think you really appreciate the new political landscape we’re working in. Just like in the Civil War,” the president grimaced at the comparison, “our colleagues from belligerent states in both houses have been expelled. Well, they’re still physically here in Washington and some of these sad souls wander into session. They aren’t recognized to speak and their votes don’t count, but they try anyway. You should see how irate they get. The Capitol Police have to kick someone out almost every day! Which is a hell of a funny sight to see.” He laughed a little at this one bright spot in the whole disaster.
“Anyway, the net effect of all the chaos is that 142 representatives and 36 senators have been banned, killed or in the hospital. Since the rest are terrified, it’s breathtaking what we can accomplish. A painful weeding process, to be sure, but incredibly effective.”
The president wasn’t so excited. “This thing is essentially a domestic War Powers Act. You are authorizing me in advance to do anything I want. As you so loosely state it: ‘To approve and confirm any necessary acts of the President of the United States, for suppressing insurrection, rebellion and domestic terrorism.’ What’s the catch?”
“None whatsoever…as long as you win this war.”
“So, you all would make me a dictator just to avoid the responsibility of making decisions on your own?” The president shook his head in resignation, not in refusal.