Howard rolled his eyes. “And so soon after his declaration against the slavers. I’m sure his untimely demise had nothing to do with that.”
“Everyone knows Sterling had him killed, but no one dares breathe a word. You’ll be interested to know that Sterling and all the regional governors will be attending his funeral in Miami. Sterling has restricted all travel south of Orlando for a week. Miami and the surrounding areas are on full lockdown.”
“A wise precaution. The entire leadership of the UAE will be gathered in one place. A very tempting target, to be sure.”
“I thought you might see it that way. I’ll send you the details.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“A week from today.”
“I just might have to send my condolences.”
“It’ll be rough; security will be iron-clad.”
“I’ll see what I can do. On another topic, I have a request for you.”
“Anything.”
“General Dupree has some credible evidence regarding the location of his daughter, Christina. A man by the name of Benjamin Black runs a community at Disney World. Recently, they murdered a group of slavers and liberated the slaves. The report mentions a girl named Christina, but that’s all it has. No last name, age, or image.”
“I’m on it. I’ll doctor some orders from Sterling requesting detailed identification of all liberated slaves.”
“Thank you, Stacy. Richard extends his gratitude as well. What can you tell me about Benjamin Black?”
“He’s a force to contend with. There are men like him all over The Pulse Zone. They set up large communities and provide protection, food, shelter, everything. I have to go, Howard. I’ll get the funeral details to you soon.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Howard terminated the link. His brilliant mind sped into high gear, exploring a number of scenarios that all closed with the same grand finale: the deaths of Simon Sterling and his miserable lackeys.
“An interesting turn of events, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
“Hal, we have a week to figure out how to take them out. We could end this struggle and begin taking back the country in less than a day.”
“I will endeavor to formulate a suitable plan of attack, sir.”
“I know you will, Old Man.”
“Sir, General Dupree is waiting outside.”
“Send him in, please.”
“What’d she say?” Richard asked as he strolled into the command center.
“Stacy is going to send out orders under Sterling’s name to properly ID all liberated slaves.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Howard.”
“We had a deal, Richard—you command my army, I help you find your daughter.”
“Would you be opposed to Max leading the invasion force? If I find out my daughter is in Florida, I’ll be leaving immediately.”
“Max has my full confidence. I’m also certain your senior officers will be able to carry out their duties in an efficient and timely manner.”
“What are you going to do about the cruise ship in Seattle? You think you can convince those people to live somewhere else?”
“I have no idea what will happen. I’ve never been the sociable type, and I hate public speaking with a passion. I’ll probably just get pissed and start yelling.”
“I’m sure Max won’t let that happen.”
CHAPTER NINE
Regional Governor Roberto Jimenez awoke in his Malibu home and pressed the button to summon his nurse. Roberto’s decades-long battle with multiple sclerosis had cost him the use of his legs. If not for Andrew, his faithful caregiver, the governor would be completely bedridden. As much as he loathed his emasculating dependence, Roberto knew he no longer had the physical strength needed to tend to his own basic personal needs.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Hurry up. I need to piss like a racehorse.”
“I keep telling you, Mr. Jimenez, there’s nothing wrong with using the bedpan.” Andrew did his best to sound like a concerned caretaker so as not to embarrass Roberto.
“And I keep telling you, I’m not pissing in a fucking jug!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Remember, you promised to watch your temper. We need to keep your blood pressure down.”
“Whatever. Just get me to the bathroom.”
Andrew lifted Roberto out of bed and placed him in his wheelchair. Roberto maneuvered himself into the bathroom and shut the door.
“Do you need any help, sir?”
“No, I’m fine. Computer, report.”
“In the wake of the Golden Gate Bridge attack, widespread demonstrations have sprung up in San Francisco, Anaheim, Los Angeles, San Diego, and Sacramento.”
“Is that so? Show them to me.”
Five separate windows appeared on the bathroom mirror, each broadcasting similar reports of somewhat peaceful demonstrations threatening to erupt into violence at a moment’s notice. Picket signs delivered tasteless racist slogans as groups of malcontents billowed in the litter-filled streets.
Roberto found the cries for retribution amusing. Even without watching the videos, he knew the demonstrations weren’t aimed at him or the UAE. The citizens of his region knew better than to speak out against the UAE since to do so resulted in the death penalty. Angry citizens harkening back to the days of the democratic United States thought it was all a bluff, a fear tactic meant to control the populace. At first, protestors were arrested and imprisoned, with public execution at a later, more convenient, time. Roberto thought this measure would be enough but was shocked when even more brazen fools protested the executions and demanded governmental reform. Without haste, he ordered in the troops and gunned down the recalcitrant protestors in the street, leaving their bloody, bullet-ridden bodies behind.
“Computer, what’s on the schedule?”
“Sir, President Sterling is requesting to speak with you.”
Roberto yelled for Andrew to get him from the bathroom to his desk.
“Establish the connection.”
“Good morning, Roberto, is this a bad time?” Simon asked once the link was completed.
“Not at all, Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
“I’m on my way to your home. I should be there in less than an hour.”
“A pleasant surprise, Mr. President. If you’d have given me more notice, I could have prepared a reception in your honor.”
“That won’t be necessary; my visit is unscheduled and unannounced for a reason. I have something to discuss with you that requires the utmost secrecy.”
“I’m honored, Mr. President. This can’t wait till the funeral?”
“No, Roberto, it cannot. Tell no one about my arrival and make no preparations.”
“I look forward to it, Mr. President.”
President Simon Sterling emerged from his helicopter and followed the flagstone path to Regional Governor Jimenez’s guest home. Roberto waited alone in the dining room, his nervous expectation nearly getting the best of him.
“Mr. President, I took the liberty of having coffee and pastries set out for you. Help yourself. I know you said no preparations, but I don’t have it in me to be a less than gracious host.”
“Thank you, Roberto. I just didn’t want to attract attention to my visit.”
“I must say I’m rather surprised by this, Mr. President. It’s not like you to sneak around.”
“You are indeed correct. Once I say what I have to say, you’ll understand the need for discretion.”
“I’m all ears, Mr. President.”
“To put it frankly, Roberto, the UAE is on a path to destruction. Well, to be more accurate, The Pulse Zone is on a path to destruction.”
“How so?”
“We’ve made significant strides in restoring the infrastructure, but the problem of maintaining law and order remains. Much of the region is being divided up into small pockets controlled by either crime lords or powerful individuals who can offer a community the protection for which all are so desperately longing. At first I put a stop to it but soon saw the benefit of these communities.”