Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 20

The Politics of it All

Ethan slowly closed the door behind him. On the other side of the door, inside that small room, many politicians still waited patiently, but Ethan was well out of patience. Amongst those who had been called together, he was the one with the least experience and the least power. He thought that perhaps the windbags of Congress had welcomed him inside their inner circle, but he quickly realized he was invited only because of his connections. Frustrated, he rested his head against the door and heaved a heavy sigh.

In his own opinion, he had some great ideas. There were ways to fix the economy, fix the American industry, save the military, prevent civil strife and perhaps put America back on the right track. Yet every time he opened his mouth, they shot him down. "You're here to listen, that's all," one senior member of Congress told him. "The media and people will be pleased with any decision we make if you're here. We can say you helped us and that it was done with the interest of the military and their families in mind." It was clear to Ethan, however, that the military's wellbeing wasn't on their agenda.

Shifting responsibility and blaming others while gaining more and more power was all any of them were good for. Each cute phrase they uttered and every damn word they wrote was an absolute lie. Stuck in the middle of it all was his fiancée; waiting with a still heart while she was overseas was painful, but watching the politicians strangle her while she was home was just as infuriating. All of those emotions displayed themselves when he smacked the wall.

"Senator Hughes," a voice behind him called out. It was a stern, serious voice with a slight edge. He assumed it was another Congressman, ready to berate him for acting in such a manner. However, when he turned around he was face-to-face with two men in uniform. The color drained from his face.

"What is it?" he asked in barely a whisper.

"We'd like to speak with you in private," the Colonel said. Beside him, the Command Sergeant Major merely nodded his head.

"You caught me at a bad time," he lied. "I'm just about to leave."

Without looking back he left. His strides were so long the two men in uniform had to almost run to catch up with him. Others he passed paid him no mind. "That's just Ethan being Ethan," they thought. Once outside, he realized he forgot his jacket when a swift wind sent a chill over his body. He stopped when he remembered his car was several blocks away.

Instead of turning back, he was forced to move forward. The Colonel and CSM grabbed him. With two men of much greater strength on either side of him, Ethan couldn't fight back. All he could do was ask, "What is the meaning of this? What are you doing?" They did not respond to his questions. He was dragged to a vehicle on an adjacent street and shoved inside. The two others piled in on either side, and within seconds they were on the road.

"I apologize, Senator," the Colonel said. "But this is urgent."

"Mackenzie's not hurt, is she?" he asked.

The Colonel shook his head and said, "I can assure you that Captain Ross is safe and sound in Union." Ethan sighed louder than he had ever sighed in his life and felt as though his entire lungs left his body. Slumped back, he relaxed as the Colonel continued. "Senator, how much do you know about the conflict at the border?"

"Not a lot," Ethan said honestly. "Who are you?"

"I apologize for not introducing myself sooner," the Colonel said. "I am Colonel Josef Burr, and this is Command Sergeant Major Charles Hayes. We worked with Brigadier General Tristan Trotter at his base in Laredo."

"For almost an entire year we labored beside General Trotter and our men," Hayes said. "With the addition of Major Raymond's Company, we were not even six months away from winning back Texas when they pulled the General away. First, they pushed him back to Dallas, and then they ripped the insignia off of his uniform. If you dig up the paperwork for it, you'll get two different reasons. One signed by General Ellis, which says he was given an emergency discharge for disobeying orders. The other, signed by the late General Scott, says he conspired with the Mexican soldiers."

"None of which are true," explained Burr. "Scott wanted to prosecute Trotter for being a Tejano from the beginning. And Ellis never gave General Trotter a tribunal."

"If he had given our General his day in court, I'm sure he would have been cleared of any charges!" Hayes nearly shouted. The Colonel had to send a warning glare to Hayes to calm him down. It was then that Ethan realized how young Hayes was to be a CSM. The dire situation of the military and its lack of experienced leaders was right in front of him.

Hayes was not deterred by Burr's expression and continued to rant. "The world needs to know what happened in Corpus Christi," he said. "The official statement is that an accidental pipeline explosion destroyed the entire base. That's just not true, though. General Trotter believed an invasion was planned, so he took volunteers to Corpus Christi in order to prevent the attack. The Colonel and myself accompanied him, along with about two squadrons of mixed rank. We saw with our very eyes that pipeline explosion and what caused it."

Ethan had heard only rumors about the situation at Corpus Christi. When he asked Mackenzie, she refused to talk about it, saying that she wasn't personally there. The media had a field day and said whatever gave them higher ratings. Just as Hayes said, the official military report stated an accidental pipeline explosion and the resulting fires had killed hundreds of sailors. He was curious; he wanted the truth and he was going to get it.

"So," he said, "What really happened?"

"Senator," Burr leaned forward, his voice low. "Do you know where the President of the United States is right now? Does Captain Ross?"

The gears in his head stopped moving. What were they trying to say? When he thought about it, he remembered that President Kenning and his staff were expected to show up for that meeting he had just attended. Of course, their arrival was already delayed due to other circumstances, but it was well past sunset and Marine One had yet to make an appearance. Unsure of how everything connected, he asked, "Did something happen to President Kenning?"

Mackenzie was far away yet forced to think similar thoughts. She tried as hard as she could to focus on making sense of all the decoded data sent her way, but it was hard. The frantic voice of Wallace demanding medical attention stopped her heart. She couldn't recall hearing him so shaken up before. Combined with the uncertainty of their Commander in Chief's whereabouts, she was getting a headache.

I feel like Ethan is going to call any minute, she thought. Whenever he had begun to dial her number, no matter how far apart they were, she was struck with a terrible headache. Sure enough, within mere seconds her phone rang. She hesitated to pick it up at first. When she did, she never had the chance to greet the caller.

"Mackenzie!" Ethan screamed over the phone as soon as it stopped ringing.

"What is it?" she asked. "I'm very busy right now."

"It's about the President!" he said. She halted all movements and listened intently. "And Corpus Christi and Texas and just everything! Oh, god, Mackenzie if we're right about this it could be a coup d'état! The Commandant of the Marine Corps – "

Mackenzie interrupted, "What did you say? Ethan, are you on a secure phone line?"

"What?" he asked, unsure of what to say. "I'm on my cell phone, of course."

"I'm ending the call. Call me back when you have a secure line," she said. Harshly she slammed her phone down. The sound caught the attention of a fellow soldier, who looked up from his computer. She could feel his gaze but ignored it and tried to focus on her work. She was forced to look up when someone grabbed her shoulder, however.

To her surprise it was Freddie. She shrugged him off and he ended the physical contact. After he grabbed a discarded chair and pulled it up to her desk, he sat down next to her and asked, "Was that your man?" A nod was her only answer. "I wonder who felt the need to inform him of such matters?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Sometimes, I wonder who feels the need to inform you."

Freddie could only smirk. He made himself comfortable when he propped his feet on her desk. She refused to give him the satisfaction of recognizing his presence, even if it meant having his shoes right on top of her phone. "To tell you the truth, I was told about this by a former General. He's been tracking some dissident sects inside the military. This is the second time he's caught them in the act," he confessed.

Mackenzie looked up from her work and saw that Freddie had displayed two fingers for effect. "Just curious, but is one of those members General Henderson of the Marine Corps?"

Freddie shrugged, "If you would have written that report on General Ellis like I suggested, the list would be clear."

"You frustrate me," Mackenzie said. "Right now, my men are in harm's way and you won't give a drop of information."

"To be fair, my dear Captain, if a stranger asked you for information about your Company, would you just give it up?"

She was silent for a moment, because she had no argument. Finally, she admitted, "You're right. We're just in a precarious situation and I need a person to focus my anger on. You make a good candidate. I suppose I should thank you for giving us the information about Marine One to begin with. But I won't. The Major has been shot and the rest of my men are facing an unknown enemy. I can't be thankful for anything, yet."

"I take responsibility for informing your commander of the situation, but I certainly don't take responsibility for him being shot," Freddie said. There was something in his voice that hinted he was offended. "It was his own careless mistake to show his brilliant medals under a bright sun. Only an i***t would put his men on the side of a road without better understanding the circumstances."

It was Mackenzie's turn to be offended. She had never heard anyone speak so ill about the Major in her presence. Thankfully, she showed self-restraint and said nothing in response. Instead, she focused her attack against him on a slightly older subject. "I won't force you to take responsibility for the Major's actions," she said. "However, there is a man out there fighting with a very heavy heart. That I can blame on you."

Freddie furrowed his brows and scowled at her. "Who are you talking about? I've done nothing to any of your useless men," he proclaimed.

"Warrant Officer Chevalier," she said. His shoes were promptly removed from her desk. "Lieutenant Doyle and his men came into town looking for you. It's because you have the eyes of the Duke's son that his platoon ever ventured out here. Because of him, Abigail was shot and killed."

"Hey!" Freddie yelled, immediately standing in an offensive posture. He slammed his hands on her desk for effect. Now, it wasn't just one soldier watching them – it was everyone. "I wasn't the man who pulled the trigger that killed her! That was the Sergeant that she provoked! And none of that would have happened if it wasn't for that damned Corporal Roo's big mouth! If you had control over your men, then that big eared farm boy wouldn't have sobbed a lake over his b***h of a sister!"

Mackenzie had to hide her grin. She responded with a very even toned, "Yet the altercation never would have happened if you had your own eyes."

"Bullshit!" Freddie yelled. "My eyes wouldn't mean anything if you and that half breed Patterson hadn't gotten yourselves into a fight! What, some drunk guys asked you to take it off and being the stingy b***h you are said no?"

There was more to leave his mouth, but it was silenced when a very strong hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to face the Minister, who calmly requested, "Please do not say such things. You're making a fool of yourself in your anger." Freddie allowed the hand of the Minister to push him back down into his seat.

"Captain!" a voice yelled from another desk. "A report from Mister Chevalier!"

"What is it?" she asked, having already forgotten about Freddie.

"Casualty report: So far, there has been zero KIA. One injured, Major P.T. Raymond. Three MIA, Corporal W.G. King, Corporal J.R. McGill, and civilian F.J. Attaway. At present, the chances of the MIA surviving are minimal. End report."

Warren caught sight of Mackenzie clenching and unclenching her fists. She was frustrated; it was evident she felt absolutely powerless stationed nearly five-hundred miles away from her Company while they fought. The last time they were parted was Corpus Christi, which ended with the death of Fleetwood. Now, it appeared as though they would lose McGill. Without hesitation she blamed Percy. Freddie was right that his carelessness had gotten them into those situations. Always she had been there to provide reason to her commander. He was too reckless without her.

"There's one more report coming through," the soldier said again. "It's from Lieutenant Goldwin, who has taken command in the Major's absence. 'We will retreat to safety until several hours after sunset. The battle zone has become uninhabitable due to a gas attack. The Company will infiltrate the kill zone once further preparations have been completed.' End report."

"They used gas?" Warren asked aloud. "Whoever you're fighting must have high connections."

Mackenzie knew Warren was worried about his son. She did little to make him feel better when she said, "We're the ones who deployed the gas."

"What?" Warren asked, shocked. He thought he had certainly misheard. "Since when does the U.S. Army authorize gas attacks?"

"It wasn't a lethal gas," Mackenzie explained. "It's not meant to wipe out lives. The government's used it on its own people during protests. Chiang Sun made the decision to gas the surrounding area after the Major was shot so they could escape."

Warren sighed and answered, "I see." The moment the sentence ended, Mackenzie's phone rang. Before the second ring could echo, she answered.

No surprise it was Ethan. His voice, so stern and serious, gave her goose bumps. She could feel his glare through the phone when he said, "Alright, are you going to shut up and listen to me or do I need to fly down there myself?"