“A bold accusation, Roberto. What do you think he’s planning?”
“I’m not sure, but what I do know is that many of the resources I’ve sent him aren’t being utilized. He keeps asking for more, and when I refuse his requests until he can provide documentation for what he’s done with my previous shipments, he goes behind my back and lies to you. Your office sends me direct orders to un-ass my goods. I don’t like it all.”
“How long has he been doing this?”
“Six months at least.”
“Again, Roberto, why not tell me?”
“With respect, Mr. President, he’s your golden boy, and I don’t want to make enemies out of either of you.”
“Well, Roberto, I will admit that I’ve made his region a priority over yours for obvious reasons, and it seems we’ve all suffered for it. Losing the Golden Gate Bridge is a huge blow. My mistake was thinking The Silent Warriors wouldn’t be so bold to attack us out in the open. The darkness and chaos of The Pulse Zone seems to be the perfect breeding ground for those cowards. I’m going to get to the bottom of this; I can assure you that this concerns me a great deal. I feel I may have given Jackson Butler too long a leash, and now it’s time to rein him in a bit.”
“Whatever I can do to help, Mr. President, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Roberto. Now I’m afraid I must change the subject and impart some bad news.”
“I’ve had plenty today, Mr. President. I doubt a little more will faze me.”
“I’m sure everything you’ve been dealing with today has kept you quite preoccupied. My earlier attempts to contact you were not just to inquire about the attack. I regret to inform you that Regional Governor Weygandt was killed this morning.”
Roberto was speechless. Jim Weygandt had been his friend for over twenty years. When Roberto was the director of the CIA, he relied on Jim to provide him with the resources to carry out covert ops around the globe. “How?”
“He was rear-ended by another vehicle, and his car was sent over a bridge. Everyone is in complete shock over this terrible tragedy. I’ll be forever grateful for his role in building the Unified American Empire. He will be missed.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“Soon. I’ll send you the details. I’m truly sorry for your loss, Roberto. I know the two of you were very close.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. Is there anything else?”
“No, Roberto, I’ll see you at the funeral.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Benjamin Black sat in his office overlooking Disney World’s Main Street USA. He enjoyed the quiet solitude of his office because he could deliberate over the day-to- day operations of his territory. The theme parks and resorts under his control covered forty-seven square miles with a population closing in on six thousand. Ben controlled a paradise in the middle of the Florida wasteland. Eighteen months prior, Hurricane Luther had destroyed much of Florida during the most powerful hurricane the world had ever seen. The category five storm came ashore not once, but four times, each time a little stronger than the last. With the collapse of the American government, the state of Florida found itself in the same shape it had been following Luther’s brutal punishment.
Walt Disney World, with all her theme parks and resorts, was not spared by Luther. Most of the rides were destroyed, and the majority of the buildings were uninhabitable. Ben wasn’t worried about any of that; what drew Ben to the Magic Kingdom was the security it offered. The theme parks had a perimeter fence around them and Ben saw the advantage. His oasis in the wasteland attracted the hungry and the frightened. The stability Ben offered brought fierce loyalty. He was considered a savior; his people loved him like a father figure. He was doing a fine job running his community, and the UAE saw fit to leave him to it. They sent a weekly patrol to his front gate to trade intelligence and inform Ben of new laws enacted by President Sterling. These so-called laws were nothing more than President Sterling stripping away civil rights.
While the citizens of Walt Disney World deified Benjamin Black, they had no idea that his primary mission in life had nothing to do with their care, but rather with the destruction of the Unified American Empire—piece by piece if necessary. When the UAE showed up on his doorstep looking for persons of interest, he ushered them in and gave the appearance of cooperation while his trusted freedom fighters subverted the UAE’s tyrannical efforts. Ben sent out guerrilla units to raid small UAE camps and ambush convoys. He even managed to nurture a network of spies that fed him valuable intelligence.
Ben had spent all morning dealing with the incident involving the slave traders. Their bodies had been buried and their weapons and ammo found a proper home in the armory. The eighteen-wheeler was a welcome addition to the motor pool. The former slaves were still undergoing thorough examinations in the infirmary. None of them had serious injuries, though a few were severely malnourished and a handful had dysentery. Ben’s most challenging problem, however, involved one of the children. The girl’s name was Chrissy Dupree, and she had no one to care for her. An elderly woman with dementia thought the girl was her granddaughter, but Chrissy eventually told Ben the truth about the situation. The woman would have to live in the infirmary full time, and Ben would have to find a family willing to take care of the girl.
Ben reached for the radio on his desk. “Jessica, what’s your location?”
After a few seconds, the radio crackled. “I’m at the Wilderness Lodge doing a security check.”
“Lunch?”
“Sure, I’m starving. I’ll head over now.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ben’s top lieutenant was in his office. The two spread their meager brown-bag meals on a table littered with stacks of paper and a large map of Florida. The map was the focus of their meeting.
“I just got this last night. Take a look at it,” Ben said as he handed Jessica a thick manila envelope. As Jessica was reading the report, Ben elaborated. “The latest scout team found a major food distribution center south of Miami, right here.” Ben pointed to the map. “For the most part, it hasn’t been touched; it appears that a few scavengers have picked it over, but the bulk of it is still there.”
“When do we leave?”
“It’s not that simple,” Ben said. “The UAE has a large base set up less than ten miles away. If they catch us emptying out the warehouse, they’ll no doubt stop us and confiscate all of it.”
“Fuck the UAE. We’re more powerful than they are.” Jessica had been with Ben since the beginning. When Hurricane Luther roared into town, Jessica found herself at Ben’s Jiffy Lube and rode out the storm in the pits beneath the garage. Ben liked her because she was smart and charismatic enough to convince people to do just about anything she asked. She also had the best bullshit detector Ben had ever seen. What Ben valued most about her was that she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot someone between the eyes if she thought for one second they meant her harm.
“Slow down and think. Yes, we are more powerful on a local level. Regional Governor Prince cries for help and Sterling can triple her force in under a week. They could wipe us out. Do I need to remind you of what we’re doing here? Much more is at stake than a warehouse full of food.”
“You’re not seriously thinking about forgetting this place? It could increase our food stores for months! And don’t you dare lecture me about what we’re doing here! You sit up here in your comfy office blowing Mickey Mouse while the rest of us are out there getting our hands dirty and seeing the most horrible things.” Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that food is going to run out at some point, and I have no idea what magic rabbit you’re gonna pull out of your ass when that happens.”