“I know. Let me be the bad guy. It’ll give me and Senator Wilson something to talk about next week.”
“Careful, Howard. You start using the military to strong-arm the population, and people might think you’re the next Simon Sterling,” said Max.
Howard snapped. When he got angry, there was no gradual ascent into rage; it was as if an internal switch was flipped in Howard’s mind. “How dare you! After all I’ve done and all the suffering I’ve endured at the hands of that madman! He killed my best friend and stole my house! You have the nerve to compare me to a dictator, a mass murderer!” Howard’s face reddened, the veins in his forehead pulsating to the rhythm of his pounding heart.
Max was completely shocked; he had never seen Howard so angry. His first instinct was to become defensive and blame Howard for overreacting. Once he saw how deeply he had wounded the man, he changed his mind. “Howard, very poor choice of words. I’m deeply sorry. I was only trying to advise caution. I understand your line of thinking, but the people do have rights; this could potentially escalate into a major problem. If even one soldier harms a single person on that boat, you could have a riot on your hands.”
“What would you have me do? Renovate a Hilton for these people and give them room service? You have a better option, I’d love to hear it.”
“Howard, you should only use force once you’ve exhausted every conceivable option. If you told them the reason, explained what’s at stake, I think they’d go willingly. You’re going to Seattle anyway. It’s worth shot.”
Howard and Richard exchanged knowing glances. Howard looked back at Max with a wicked grin. “Looks like you just volunteered to go with me. Feel free to bring your lovely wife.”
Max massaged his aching knee. He wanted to get some fresh air and see the sun, but this wasn’t what he had in mind. “Son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER SIX
Regional Governor Roberto Jimenez was furious. In his time governing the former states of California, Nevada, New Mexico, and Arizona, he had never been the victim of a major attack from The Silent Warriors. Keeping his region secure was his primary focus. While other regional governors concentrated on rebuilding the infrastructure or maintaining law and order, he thought only of security. The Pulse had not affected his region, so there was no real need to focus on a broken infrastructure. He honestly didn’t care if the people in his region robbed each other blind or murdered each other. As long as The Silent Warriors didn’t give him a black eye in front of the other regional governors and, more importantly, the president, he was happy.
The destruction of the Golden Gate Bridge left him with a gaping wound, visible to the entire country. He was certain to be the object of scorn, ridiculed by all the regional governors as well as President Sterling. Roberto was not looking forward to speaking with the president and had been putting it off for as long as possible. His first two attempts at keeping the president at bay were successful; he simply instructed his assistant to tell the president he was hard at work getting to the bottom of the disaster and would contact him soon. The time for stalling was over; he had no choice but to report to President Sterling.
Roberto was not a young man nor was he in good health. The seventy-four-year-old had been confined to a wheelchair for many years as a result of his battle with multiple sclerosis. He had little doubt as to why President Sterling had assigned him to this region. It was the most stable and provided little daily stress. It was the right call because hearing the news of the attack nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. Once he calmed down, Roberto summoned the commanding officer of the San Francisco militia and shot the man right there in his office. The corpse was hauled out, and terrified maids spent the morning cleaning the pool of blood from the threadbare carpet in front of his desk. The grouchy bastard grunted and waved the maids from the room. They were more than happy to oblige. With a few quick keystrokes, the holographic display before him sprang to life. Seconds later, the President of the Unified American Empire was glaring at him.
“Explain yourself, Mr. Jimenez.”
“Mr. President, our investigation is still ongoing.”
“Do not stall me any further, Roberto. In the future, when I attempt to contact you, do not use your assistant to dismiss me. You forget your place, my good man. I am in charge of this empire and you serve at my pleasure. If you ever disrespect me in such a manner again, the outcome will not be pleasant, I assure you.”
“Mr. President, I didn’t feel it necessary to waste your time until I had something solid to report.”
“You waste my time, Mr. Jimenez, when my repeated attempts to contact you go unanswered. Tell me what you know.”
“Yes, Mr. President. We know the identities of the men involved. All are American citizens; their parents, however, hail from countries in The Great Empire of Iran.”
“Are their parents American citizens?”
“Most of them, yes, Mr. President. They were granted American citizenship in the late 90s. They managed to cleverly mask their heritage and passed themselves off as Spanish.”
“Have you located them?”
“Their parents? No, Mr. President, we haven’t made it a priority.”
“Make it a priority. I have no doubt their parents were complicit in their training. Once you’ve located them, execute them…” President Sterling’s lips curled in a sinister grin. “…publicly. Give your citizens some semblance of justice.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I’m sending the order now.” The command was issued with a few hasty keystrokes.
“Tell me about the attack.”
“We’ve been able to trace the vehicles back to two men we believe to be the ringleaders, both veterans of the United States Army. It would explain how they managed to get their hands on the ordinance they used. The Golden Gate Bridge suffered catastrophic damage. The framework remains intact, but the road spanning the bridge was ruined beyond repair. It will take years before a vehicle can cross it.”
“Roberto, I want you to be frank with me. What measures could have been taken to prevent this? If The Silent Warriors are bold enough to start attacking targets in our most secure region, we need to do whatever we can to prevent it from happening again.”
“That’s just the problem, Mr. President. My region may not have been struck by The Pulse, but that doesn’t mean we’re the most secure region. Just because we have electricity, running water, and a stable infrastructure doesn’t change the fact that our resources are being slowly stripped down to nothing.”
“Elaborate, please.”
“I fully understand that The Pulse Zone is in desperate need of every available resource we can give them: fuel, spare parts, food, water, working vehicles, medical supplies. I have no objection to that. We’re living in the lap of luxury compared to the East Coast. The problem I have is that more and more of my troops are being redeployed to The Pulse Zone. I’m working with a skeleton crew that barely manages to secure checkpoints and vital areas. I don’t have the manpower to maintain law and order, and I damn sure don’t have enough soldiers to conduct investigations and round up suspected terrorist cells.”
“Did you not think it prudent to bring this to my attention earlier, Mr. Jimenez?”
“To be blunt, Mr. President, I have. You instructed me to work out my problems with Regional Governor Butler. You basically gave the man free reign to do whatever it takes to get The Pulse Zone back up and running. Jackson is an arrogant little turd that wouldn’t budge on a damn thing. He thinks his region is the only one that matters. He told me my region can go to shit for all he cares.”
“Jackson said that?”
“His exact words, Mr. President. He’s cocky and dangerous, in my opinion. I strongly believe he’s stockpiling resources and manpower for the day when The Pulse Zone is fully functional. He wants to come out on top. I’m certain he’s planning something.”