Barone hung up the phone and stepped back into the main CIC. He was on board the Makin Island, as it was the only place he could have long-range communications.
“Top, we need to send out a few teams. Apparently our guy Van Zandt can’t follow directions. He might be lost, shot up, or, worst case, dead.”
Simpson was talking with a senior chief petty officer about a ship issue when Barone interrupted his conversation. “I’m sorry, sir, what was that? Who might be dead?” Simpson asked loudly.
“Van Zandt and the vice president.”
“Roger that, sir, I’ll get several teams ready to green light in six hours, will that work?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine.”
Barone left the CIC and went directly to his old stateroom. He was feeling the beginnings of a migraine and needed some privacy. He lay down and closed his eyes for what seemed like a minute, then the intercom sounded.
“Colonel Barone, Colonel Barone, please report to the CIC.”
“Shit!” he cried out as he sat up. He was so tired he hadn’t even taken off his boots. He looked at the bed and said, “I’ll be back.”
Simpson met him outside the CIC. “Sir, we’ve got a problem.”
“Isn’t there always a problem? What is it?”
“The protest out front of the city hall has exploded into a riot. They’ve stormed the building looking for you. The report is they’re heading down to the ships.”
“Oh, fantastic,” he said dryly.
“There’s rumor that you had the vice president and the mayor’s aide killed,” Simpson added.
“What? Who’s saying that?” Barone asked, irritated by the reports.
“Mayor Brownstein is leading the riot, that is all I know.”
“Christ, really? I am so fucking sick of these people. We have things to fix, we don’t need our time and resources wasted because people want to be heard!” Barone yelled. “Call general quarters, get the men down along the docks in front of the ships. Let them know to prepare to restrain some rowdy civilians.”
“Roger that!” Simpson said and went back inside CIC.
Barone made his way to the flight deck to get a bird’s-eye view of everything.
Men were scurrying inside and outside the ship. Barone watched as the large protest made its way down the road. They were chanting and yelling. Many were holding up signs or banners.
“Seriously!” he said out loud to himself. “What do they think this is, a fucking college campus? Idiots!”
At the head of the group was Mayor Brownstein. She was walking hand in hand with the other councilors from both Coos Bay and North Bend.
Barone couldn’t resist getting involved. He exited the flight deck and jumped in with his men as they disembarked the ship.
NCOs and junior officers were organizing their men into riot formations around the side of the ships. The men were all wearing their tactical gear and helmets. Barone hadn’t issued an order for firearms but Simpson must have taken the lead.
The crowd of protestors had swelled to several thousand. It was the largest group he’d ever encountered and they looked ready to fight.
They continued to sing and march until they stopped just within a few feet of the line of armed Marines.
Mayor Brownstein turned around and began to yell to her people to quiet down. “Spread the word, please be quiet! I need to address the colonel. I need everyone to be quiet.”
Shouting and yelling cascaded down the ranks of the crowd until most were silent in anticipation of what was going to happen.
She turned around and faced the Marines. She pulled out a piece of paper and began to read it. “Marines and sailors, fellow Americans: Please lay down your arms and join us! We are here not as adversaries but as friends. We want to remain in the United States. We don’t choose to create a new country; we choose to stay with the land of our birth or, for some of us, the land we chose to immigrate to! We love you and appreciate all the sacrifices you men and women have done for us! But we cannot go along with Colonel Barone. He is a traitor who betrayed the very country he swore to defend. He has forsaken this country and brought you here against your will! We forgive you! We know you have to follow orders but now you must know that you don’t have to follow unjust orders! This man has perverted our system of separation of powers! He comes here like Julius Caesar, promising great things, but his intent is to conquer. He now has taken another step by having the vice president of the United States killed along with our very own Christopher Hicks. He is a traitor and outlaw and we people of Coos Bay, North Bend, and Coastal Oregon are here to arrest this man and bring him to justice!”
A loud cheer erupted following her speech, then the crowd started to chant “Traitor!” over and over.
The Marines in front of her looked stone-faced in front the people. Brownstein attempted again. “Marines, please lay down your arms and join us.”
Barone pushed his way to the front of his men and directly in front of Mayor Brownstein. “Madam Mayor! I have always been one who loved theater, and this is quite a show you have here.”
“This isn’t a show for your entertainment, but a show of force in the power of the people.”
“People? Why do civilians think they’re the only so-called ‘people’ but men in uniform are your instruments? These men, my men are also the ‘people.’ Enough of you and your ilk thinking you have a monopoly!”
“Lieutenant Colonel Barone, we are here to arrest you for the murder of Vice President Cruz and Christopher Hicks!” Brownstein yelled.
“Murder? They’re not dead!”
“We received information that they are dead. Based upon your past actions, we have to assume you had them killed. A fair trial will either find you innocent or guilty, but you will be tried!”
“Mayor Brownstein, we have much to do here. Enraging thousands of people with a lie, then coming down here saying you’re going to arrest me, is foolish. I’m not going anywhere, I have work to do!” Barone hollered out, then turned around.
As he walked past the first row of Marines, a bottle thrown from someone in the crowd smashed against his head.
The force jolted him, causing him to stumble. A Marine steadied him. He felt behind his head, and looking at his fingers, he saw blood. Angry, he turned around and walked back to confront Mayor Brownstein.
He held his bloody hand in her face and said, “This can go very bad for you unless you calm down this mob. You came here for my blood. Here. Now do you want to see theirs?” he asked, pointing at the crowd.
Brownstein heard his threat loud and clear. She was aware that by organizing such a large group that things could have the potential of getting violent, but she didn’t seek a conflict with him. Her hopes were that such a demonstration of strength would compel him to listen. That had worked. Now she was unclear about what she wanted the group to accomplish. Of course she’d be happy if he gave himself up to them but she knew that he was incapable of that.
More agitated yells came from the group.
She turned and yelled, “Everyone, please, we are a peaceful people. We are here to show the colonel that many are upset with him and don’t want him here. We are not here to fight these men!”
A few rocks came from the center of the group and bounced off the helmets of the Marines in the first row.
“Mayor, disband this mob and go home! If you want to talk we can do that, but not like this! If you want to talk to the president, I can have that arranged, but disband this mob now!’
The yelling had increased in volume and severity. More rocks and bottles were hurled at the Marines. The Marines held their line and didn’t budge or flinch.
Brownstein wasn’t focused on Barone. Her attention was now on controlling the crowd, which was getting more boisterous.