So far...
In 2005The springtime war of words with Iran falls flat. Afghanistan becomes unstable again. Al-Qaida holds a successful revolution in Algeria. Russia, China and India are open adversaries; Japan is mulling neutrality.
In January 2006, Iraq formally asks for the departure of all American forces from its territories.
Then we skip forward to the 2008 election; a militia group called the Deliverers makes a devastating attack on college campuses across the Northeast. This is the Reichstag moment.
Unrest on campuses nationwide, and inadequate funding of law enforcement, give Homeland Security an opening to take over public universities. Due to tight budget and manpower constraints, HomeSec levers its assets by utilizing student volunteers.
It goes very badly. Within four weeks of enactment, a peaceful protest at the University of North Carolina is broken up by SSI 'peacekeepers' armed with baseball bats and security batons. Six days later, a retaliation by AHA results in an armed confrontation, leaving several dozen dead.
When the Grad School Riot happened, it was protrayed to a stunned world by the media as well-meaning zeal on the part of peace-minded students to deal with the persistent disruption of idyllic campus life by the ne'er-do-well protest culture.
The desperate phone calls, flash images, and realtime video feeds, the later television reporting from UNC Hospitals, Durham Memorial and Duke Medical Center, and live testimony of angry friends of the protesters was only outdone by the smug, triumphant conservative commentary in conveying the true message -- the Sturmabteilung was back in business, garbed in red.
For Want of a Peacemaker
One wonders what would have happened, had the remainder of the UNC community's left, very angry and rightly so, had chosen to approach this matter in a different fashion. It is easy from centuries' remove to armchair the decisionmaking process. If there had been one last voice for peaceful confrontation, one more innovator for nonviolent change, one strong leader capable of reaching to both ends of the rope and pulling the Red and Blue Americas into accord.
That hero did not step forward, assuming he or she existed at all. Or, perhaps, had in wrath or resignation chosen to take up the sword instead.
The United States at the time was at war -- several, in fact -- and faced the terrifying prospect of being ushered out of the Asia entirely; Japan was contemplating breaking off its longstanding alliance with America, and the Tokyo regime was Washington's closest and most valuable friend on the planet. While fences with Europe had been partly mended, the North Africa War had not only revived European militarism but handed the EU the opportunity to advance freedom -- and its influence -- successfully in ways that the Americans had not.
Were that not enough, the Chinese were in comprehensive discussions with Venezuela, Peru and other Latin American states. The topic of special interest to the United States -- relaxing immigration controls to Latin America for Chinese nationals, in return for alliance treaties with the People's Republic and, by extension, the other major powers of Asia.
American conservatives saw a world closing like a vise on their ambitions; with the cutbacks to NASA and the sputtering of exploration after the Cassini mission, even the skies were closed. American astronauts were no longer on the International Space Station; Chinese taikonauts and Indian spacefarers were taking shifts in their stead.
One, or None!
The Republicans, then-unchallenged masters of the federal government, developed a motto, one that would have many innuendoes: One, or None. The dangerous world that the right had long decried, a world dangerous for parochialism, for privilege for special prestige based on nationality, had become a world that was actively focused on reducing American power and overturning her principles. There could be only one answer in such dire times -- unity. Free speech was sacred, of course -- but not for criticising the defense of freedom. Human rights were fine -- but what of American rights to self-defense, and why are the rights of terrorists and their supporters placed first? Support the opposition party? Hey, it's a free country -- but do not oppose us, for its wartime, and opposing the commander in chief is treason. One, or None.
This thinking went further: Only one man had united the country, as he promised, had drawn true Americans together to fight against all enemies, domestic (alas) and foreign (a-plenty!). Without him, the country would fall to pieces. Oh, sure, Jeb Bush is his brother and would make a fine president. But we need George W. Bush, the faithful cried. We need a great president.
The President was embarrassed when asked about talk of repealing the 22nd Amendment, joking that it was a thankless job that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy -- so he was going to stick his little brother with it. Haha, chortled the beaming, admiring White House press corps. That's just why we need you, sir! the PBS reporter gushed. Will you sign the bill if it's placed on your desk? Blurts out the CBS representative; there's an awkward silence, for this conversation is going out on live air.
However, the question is a plant, later records would reveal; that ancient network had been gelded as an objective reporter of the news four years earlier.
Bush furrowed his brow, waxed stern, and replied: The only way I'll sign it is if Congress can override my veto.
No one contradicted the President, that any proposed amendment to the Constitution would have to pass by veto-proof majority of both Houses, regardless. The White House press corps had long since been purged of contradictory people.
Nor did anyone doubt that by Friday week, the 28th Amendment would be out of D.C. and making the rounds, starting with the Texas state house.
Meanwhile, back in Chapel Hill
Perhaps nothing could have been worse for either the cause of peace or that of the American left than for the Ad Hoc Army (AHA!) to have staged its violent retaliation against a crowd of conservative students showing support for three men, each holding Bibles as if they were shields, while they were in a 'designated free speech zone' (the University's own language) exercising Constitutional guarantees of free speech, free religion and freedom of peaceful assembly. That the aura of the Declaration of Independence (life, liberty, happiness) was desecrated as well only magnified the widespread outrage. That clear footage of this second confrontation was dubbed the Prayer Massacre by the media only fanned the flames of backlash.
A country ready to snap under the strain of creeping fascism snapped back to attention, just as swiftly.
The March Deployment
Senator Joe Biden of Delaware was swift to distance the Democratic Party from this bloodshed (a comparable statement from the GOP concerning the earlier SSI thuggery never occurred). Regardless, the media went ape over this, using the Prayer Massacre as prima facie evidence of the true nature of liberalism in America; the Bush Administration was swift in condemning the violence, and just as quick to act -- the 82nd Airborne out of Fort Bragg were ordered out of barracks ' to safeguard freedom in and around the town of Chapel Hill'. It was a broad mandate. And that was the entirety of the text.
Concerned as to the exact meaning of his orders, General Austin Keller would phone the office of the Undersecretary of the Army. There was no reaching SecArmy for comment, but a call soon came from the JCS office via a Major Yalley on staff:
As far as the Vulcans are concerned, they're terrorists. HomeSec will advise upon your arrival.
Homeland's going to advise? General Keller scowled. He made another call, this time laterally, to Colonel Paul Timmons, Camp Lejeune. His inter-service contact was unavailable. The reason: 1st Marines was being deployed all the way across the country to UCLA. Apparently, there had been trouble over there. Why isn't Pendleton handling that? Keller wondered. For that matter, why not any of a dozen units in California.
He flicked on his wireless laptop as the convoy rolled onto Interstate 95 for the trip north to Raleigh, then onto I-40 for the short jog to the staging area at RDU International Airport, where advance units would be waiting. He did not even need a keyword search; it was the new headline story -- California National Guard units had formed a cordon at the gates to Camp Pendleton, at the order of the Governator, of all people.
Maybe it's a good thing foreign-born persons can't become President after all, General Keller mused, suddenly feeling much better about his vague mission to Chapel Hill.
Backstory - The Last Happy Conversation
These events occur about two weeks earlier in California. It's also a rare happy moment in the early narrative.
The last four years had worn heavily on the man known most commonly as Ahnold. He had won re-election, largely attributable to the dispirited character of the California Democratic Party at the time. Regardless, despite much hope, the GOP did not have control of the legislature, largely the consequence of the CA GOP becoming even more aggressive than the rest of the nation's Republicans.
Schwarzenegger had been an anomaly, a man playing to his own ambition, perhaps his own ego, wondering what he must do to keep the adrenaline of accomplishment flowing in his veins. Some men made money, others had more children. Still others took mistreses in their mid-life crises. Having done that already, Ahnold took the governor's house instead.
And it had been a fine ride, toppling a profoundly disappointing Gray Davis, receiving the love and accolades of tens of millions of Americans, scoffing at the revulsion of tens of millions more. He truly loved his home state, had made his deliberate mispronouncing of its name a trademark. (The German "i" by itself is closer to the vowel sound in the word fish, than in fleece...and there are no exceptions.)
Then came the issues of immigration, of federal block grant cuts, many of them written to punish states that voted Blue in national elections, the fiasco with gay marriage and later gay adoption, and the horrid university attacks back east. The Governator had heard the asides by Republican politicians in Sacramento, and in the party itself. Their reaction to the attacks had been -- too bad they were all east. We've got Berkeley, Stanford and UCLA right here, waiting to raze to the ground. Remember Reagan's sending the Guard in to Berkeley. Yeah. Sure Do. God, I miss the Gipper. Me, too.
These were men and women who openly talked off cutting the tap water to the coastal megalopolis and "let the libs drink seawater". Several ugly incidents by a group calling itself Childsavers had invaded homes, roughed up (in one instance, killed) gay or lesbian adoptive parents and spirited the children away. Not one such child had been found alive; three had been found dead. Apparently, they had actually loved their parents and been, per Childsaver doctrine, incorrigible. So, they were liquidated.
One response had been the media war -- marches of solidarity, protests, talk show tours, calls for support from Sacramento. Siding with the victims had been a no-brainer for Schwarzenegger. HomeSec had offered to assist in security matters. Having seen what chains came with such an offer, the governor had refused; California can take care of it own. Oh, the HomeSecs chuckled sweetly, and moved along.
The issue of gay adoption had not gone away, and in 2007 the bill was introduced to outlaw further adoption of children save by 'traditionally recognized modes of family' (which apparently included single fathers with one wife and multiple unmarried female partners living under the same roof, one critic noted). The word from the national GOP: We want you to make a show of this. If you succeed, splendid. If you fail, even better. The plan was to paint California as cutting-edge moonbat country, impervious to decency. It woudl be worth three seats in the Senate, twelve in the House, the handlers said.
Schwarzenegger had refused. And suddenly, he had financial troubles, and scandal rumors erupted from everywhere. Everything ever said at his expense was made as fresh as if it happened earlier in the day. The message was clear -- There are a lot of Bees in California, we own them, and they have lots of stingers to share with the good people of the Golden State.
So, the Governator relented, and halfhearted dragged out the initiative. Right on the heels of the Childsaver killings, with the perpetrators still at large, it looks as if the Childsavers had stopped invading gay homes and invaded Sacramento instead.
Mass protests ensued; a rather impressive march from Concord to Sacremento was harrassed by locals, who felt threatened by the 'army of fags' storming through their domain. The 'girly-men' in the group included some very tough characters; a group calling itself the Lysander Brigade, or Spartans, had emerged, providing ward security for threatened families. These were homosexuals who had no ignorance of weapons, nor compunction about their use in self-defense. Neither had their namesakes. These sporadic exchanges of gunfire drew official notice; the fact that the march would soon file past Travis Air Force Base only added to the tension.
The governor ordered the California national guard out, to preempt any action by the Air Force or, God forbid, HomeSec and its increasingly-abundant SSI goons. Schwarzenegger was Austrian by birth, but German enough to recoil at the sight of the redshirts that the SSI word, and the red and gold emblem of Homeland security, the overlaid H and S on a triangular shield that recapitulated the Superman logo. Hardly, he sniffed in disgust, reflexively flexing his own arms as he thought about it. No, he resolved. This is my state, and I'm its governor.
The march slowed as it approached Fairfield; Sacramento was quite some distance away, several more days on foot. A rotation of marchers kept forward progress going; cars kept supporters up in water bottles; two flatbeds with portable toilets and two showers kept the hygeine up to civilized specs.
It was then that the green trucks of the CNG pulled up, flanking the marchers. Soldiers got out, some cutting straight through the column before any resistance could be mounted. Within minutes, the group was surrounded.
The Guardsmen took stock of their marks; most were married couples, some had older children on their first citizen's action. One mother was nursing. A couple of fit young men stood suspiciously close together, might have brushed the backs of their hands on the sly...maybe. Two women were arm in arm, but hey. No problem with that. Several tough-looking bulls had firearms; these were isolated and brought forward, disarmed.
Captain Gage Harlan shook his head; you won't be needing those anymore, fellas, he said. He paused and looked over the marchers. The governor hears that there's been shootings out here on the highway. That's hardly peaceful protest. Well, hell, sir! They started it. What "they" is that? Oh, you mean the crackpots in the pickup trucks a few dozen miles back? Oh, we've talked to them, too.
The Captain sighed. Here's the scoop. Your friends with the guns here are done. Say goodbye; you can pick them up in Dixon on your way back from Sacramento. The Lysanders were escorted away; a truck drove northeast with the prisoners.
Pick them up? The remaining marchers asked themselves? What does he mean?
What I mean, Harlan said, is you don't need the firearms, because we're packin' em for you. A half-baked whoop of amazement lofted. Yeah, that's right. We're running escort for...hold on, let me get this letter out and read it to you ...
'To my fellow Cal-EE-fornians exercising their freedom to assemble, to speak and to move about in a lawful and orderly matter:
I will not tolerate violence in our state, nor repression of the rights of its people. I swore an oath of citizenship long before I swore the oath of office as your governor. In both I promised to uphold the Constitution of the United States of America.
We are a nation at war against terorists, but when we take our guns into families' homes and bring terror to their doorstep, then every doorstep is terrorized.
The bill you are marching against is something that Washington is forcing on our state. I had reason to obey their orders before; they were all very bad reasons.
Come to Sacramento at my invitation. Your protest is effective. You have already changed one mind: Mine.
The column marched past Travis with no incident. The Air Force, as matters turned out, could have cared less. The feared HomeSec confrontation never materialized, not with the cameras now flying overhead, and on terms unfavorable to their consolidation of power at the expense of both the state and people of California.
If the Governator had been mulling leaving the Republican Party, the choice was made for him. He was publicly feted by the President for standing up for freedom, and peacefully and creatively resolving a tense situation in tense times.
It was, from all accounts, a pleasant conversation.
There would never be another such phone call, and the Republicans both in California and elsewhere would never forgive the man, or the state he represented.
Keller's Army in Carrboro
California would soon enough be the main prize in the Partisan Wars. Back in March 2008, the game was afoot in Orange County, North Carolina, as half of the remainder of a column of Stryker assault craft rolled up the offramp from Highway 54 onto Jones Ferry Road; the second half rolled to the next intersection, with West Main Street. Both crossings had the advantage of boasting gasoline stations, and superb coverage of the approaches to the Carrboro-Chapel Hill conurbation.
General Keller was with the Jones Ferry detachment; here in Carrboro was where many upperclassmen and graduate students resided. The dormitories had been effectively sealed off, troublemakers identified and processed long since by waves of UNC campus police, Chapel Hill city police, Orange County Sheriff's Office deputies, North Carolina SBI, FBI, Homeland Security and the SSI punks who, in Keller's opinion, had started this furball. But he kept his cards to himself; he also kept a handwritten journal. Operations on American soil against American civilians...no, sorry. American enemy combatants. The SSI may have started the ruckus, but no one had been killed. These AHA! nuts had turned a case in bad politics into fertilizer for a civil war. Busting up a prayer meeting, he shuddered. The Klan had done such things, back in the day. Keller glanced at his dark brown hand; oh, they'd have come for him, too. But they'd have regretted it.
With that thought, Keller looked about. He had overwhelming force, in his estimation, a token of the full might of the 82nd Airborne, six thousand troops in theater. (In theater! God, I'm in Carrboro, NC. My daughter took us to eat breakfast down at an old mill, turned into a mall, not more than a mile down the road!) Somewhere out there were approximately four hundred...idiot college kids...glued to their electronics for news of their impending fate, crossing the Virginia state line en route to Canada if they knew what was good for them.
As promised, Homeland Security had a list of suspects; it was most likely over-inclusive, but based on past performance would bag at least half the actual persons involved in the melee, and under Gonzales Protocols they would talk, give up the remainder of their friends, and be given the best reconstructive surgery available afterwards. Not a scratch would be on them. Of course, some would have more detailed information about global terrorist or WMD-related activities. These would be kept for some time to come. A statistically anomalous portion would be affiliated with persons who were currently unpopular with the administration. Keller did not approve of such taking of hostages (sorry: they were leverage, not hostages!). Alas, moral outrage was something a soldier learned to turn on and off. It was not just a matter of survival, but of sanity.
The rest of the orders were carte blanche -- any who resist, kill. No onus will be on any soldier in the conduct of his Constitutional duty to support and defend the government of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.
The government? Keller repeated the words. That's a new phrase. He glanced down at a soldier, a new one from the looks of him. Private, repeat your oath of service, he commanded.
The oath was recited, verbatim. Thank you, he said.
The wording has been changed, he mused. It used to be support and defend the Constitution. I wonder when that occurred.
A lieutenant stepped up quickly, a Blackberry remote in hand. Sir, four of the insurgents are in this apartment complex here, ah, Old Well Apartments.
Insurgents? Keller asked.
Unfazed, the lieutenant frowned. I call it like I see it, sir. These godless fucks shot up a prayer service. A pause. Do we have to take them alive.
Rules of engagement say yes, if they don't resist. Another pause. If pushed too hard, anyone will resist.
The lieutenant relished a private thought, and showed it. Yes, sir! He said, eager to get back to his preparations, and made to turn away.
Keller saw this, and did not like what it signified. This is going to get ugly, very quickly, he realized.
Lieutenant, he added, and the officer turned back swiftly. See that you keep you men under control; the 82nd still has commitments in Algeria, for officers that need more leadership training.
Yes, sir, the young man answered sullenly.
At that point HomeSec Supervisor Jane Pelley emerged from the Stryker behind the general; she had been listening attentively to the exchange. She wore the uniform of an Army officer, and the Superman-style badge of HomeSec on both shoulders,
Officially, she had no place in the chain of command. Practically, she had the full faith and confidence of the adminstration behind her. Officially, her role was to advise and consult with General Keller. Practically, she was a commissar, a political officer. A snitch, and a very dangerous one.
She, too, had been waiting for the 82nd at the staging area. There were no additional instructions other than Jane Pelley.
Such restraint is admirable of course; we do want to preserve innocent lives and protect the rights of Americans caught up in this investigation.
Get on with it, Miss Pelley.
These are terrorists of the worst sort. Much of what we pump out about the Muslims hating our way of life is BS, but these homegrown liberals are the real deal. They shot up a prayer meeting, for the love of God.
Yeah, I've heard that several times already. And several dozen times the day before.
Pelley glared at him. It's one, or none, general.
Beg pardon?
One, or none. We're either one on this matter, or nothing.
I'm drawing a blank, here, Miss Pelley. What the hell are you talking about.
I can't have you hamstringing your own men going into a confrontation with these liberal terrorists. Nor can the adminstration. I advise you to rescind that last order to your lieutenant, or I will.
That's bad for morale. It would undermine my command. It would piss me off. Most of all, I don't want my soldiers daydreaming about ways to work the Uniform Code so they can legally shoot whoever the hell they feel like it. That is going to get them killed.
Everyone on this list is a terrorist. That's not just words; that's policy. And the policy is kill all terrorists. That's the only rule your soldiers need to remember.
Keller paused, By the way -- are any SSI students, the ones with the guns -- on this list? Most of the fatalities are gunshot wounds. All of the SSI fatalities are saturated with gunpowder residue.
Pelley snarled. That's classified! I should have you pulled just for uttering those words.
Keller ignored her threat. And none of the SSI are on this terrorist list, yet they generated most of the fatalities.
You are on thin ice here, general.
The second I am forced to resign, I will be forced to share my observations with an interested world.
Nonsense. We control the media now; you'll be another traitor Democrat trying to cover for his own. That's what we'll say, that's what will be.
What a Crock. I've voted GOP all my life.
Whatever. You're an angry black man that coddled student activist terrorists. Everybody knows that African-Americans are all Democrats. We play on a host of other prejudices and before you know it you'll be a drug lord or whatever else we want you to be. Maybe gay...
You've just hanged yourself and your entire department with those words.
Whatever. We're in charge, we're free to say what we please whenever we please. And right now, the only reason some black man is a general is because it serves our purposes that a black man does the hatchet job on this town. It will stir up distrust among liberal-tending factions that will save thousands of decent American lives farther down the road.
What do you mean?
And he's stupid, too. We have no intention of letting this go; we've finally blown the lid off of so-called liberal pacifism; they really are out to destroy America. One, or None, General. She repeated.
Keller frowned then plucked a cell phone from his wallet, punched in a code. Lieutenant Tarleton, get back here on the double, he said calmly. Funny, the general said. I never placed the LT's name with that of Lord Tarleton.
That Tarleton had taken no prisoners, ever. Perhaps the blood runs true, after all.
Keller finished the call, then snapped his cellphone shut. The look he then gave his new commissar could kill.
The look Jane Pelley returned could kill everyone who ever even closely resembled him. Then she smiled sweetly, and walked away.
It'd be a pity if she were on a battlefield, General Keller mused, something might happen to her. Of course, nothing would; he had no doubts that his life expectancy and hers were now intertwined.