Power Games: Operation Enduring Unity I
Read Power Games: Operation Enduring Unity I Online
Authors: R A Peters
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Men's Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #War & Military, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Historical, #Military, #Spies & Politics, #Assassinations, #Conspiracies, #Political, #Terrorism, #Thriller, #Thrillers, #Pulp
Power Games
Operation Enduring Unity I
By R A Peters
Copyright 2014 Richard Allen Peters
ISBN-13: 978-1301843008
Kindle First Edition
Cover Art by:
“The Mule”
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. I pray this always remains fiction.
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www.operationenduringunity.com
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Other stories by Richard Peters:
Shock and Awe
(Operation Enduring Unity II)
The Surge
(Operation Enduring Unity III)
The Unreasonable Man
(Sci-Fi short story collection)
The Rooster
(Adult Post-Apocalyptic Thriller)
Kindle First Edition, License Notes
The author has provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.
Dedication
This novel is going out to all my brothers and sisters in every branch of the military. All those that answered the call to serve without ever asking, “What’s in it for me?” Especially to the families of those that never made it back. Gone but not forgotten!
This book is intended to give a voice to all those voiceless men and women sacrificed on the altar of power.
PS. To my endlessly patient wife: I really do love you more than my computer!
The Shot Heard Round the World
Jacksonville International Airport, Florida
Somewhere over the Okefenokee Swamp (Southeast Georgia)
Camp Blanding, Southern Access Road
Los Padres National Forest, California
50 miles East of Daytona Beach, Florida
I-75, just north of Gainesville
20 miles northeast of Lake City, Florida
Los Padres National Forest, California
Las Vegas International Airport
Power Games: Operation Enduring Unity I
Welcome to the future of America. Land of chaos and home of the ambitious...
A botched assassination on the eve of Election Day throws the routine transfer of presidential authority on its head and the American government into chaos.
With Congress and the Supreme Court locked in a constitutional standoff, rabble-rousing state governors fueling the fire and shadowy opportunists pulling strings, the nation teeters on the verge of a Second Civil War.
While the politicos play their chess games, the pawns refuse to sit idly by. Sometimes the tail doesn’t wag the dog, but strangles it.
Sergeant Major John Brown, a hard charging paratrooper, is about as political as a potato. He’s the last man anyone imagined inciting a revolution…
Young Sophie Kampbell, a social justice crusader, despises violence in every form. On the other hand, when tragedy shoves her into the arms of the mysterious “Freedom Brigade” militias, she finds that a rifle delivers a lot more permanent social justice than any picket sign…
From the rhetoric-stained halls of power to the reluctant warriors on the ultramodern battlefield, get ready to take an extreme tour of the next major chapter in US history.
Keep low, stay alert, and just maybe you'll survive a tour of duty in Operation: Enduring Unity.
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November 7
th
, 20soon
All the fluttering red, white and blue bunting had a nauseating effect, when stared at long enough through a 13-power scope. John Randall raised his cheek off the rifle’s stock and forced a ragged breath. He even managed to blink. The damn debate moderator kept droning on longer than expected. Well, after a month of planning another minute couldn’t hurt. Any moment he was going to make history.
Even from 400 yards away and four stories high, Randall could still hear the idiotic cheering fire up again. A wave of finality dampened his adrenaline fire as the beaming face of Senator Dimone came into focus. That rich tool was about to make the last speech of his perverted presidential bid.
Ah, but first he must shake hands with his opponent, Speaker of the House Terry Scott.
The only real man on that stage
. Randall’s vision blurred with a brief flash of regret. He wasn’t a complete psychopath. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t what the congressman meant by his famous campaign slogan: “Enough talk; it’s time for action!”
Sometimes though, the great men of history needed a helping hand. John had done his best the old-fashioned way, but all those long hours spent volunteering and canvassing for Scott’s campaign were just so trivial. Especially when stacked against the billion dollars poured into Dimone’s various Political Action Committees (PAC’s) by unknown donors. He shook, recalling the hopelessness of investing every spare moment of the last year in trying to save his dear country. His wife’s pitying face, even as she took his kids and left, cluttered his sight picture.
John’s teeth clacked in rage. That quack the judge ordered him to visit would probably suggest popping another pill right now. Throwing the drugs away last week was the smartest call he’d ever made. He’d never seen things so clearly. Most definitely, he wouldn’t have had the courage to deal with his enemy if still on that mind-altering crap. He rubbed his sweating palms on his pants and slid the window open.
While no one would confuse John Randall for a true sharpshooter, firing a box a day of .30-06 for a month on a 500-yard range sure builds confidence. He took up as comfortable a position as he could out on the ledge. Just like in the movies. He was even dressed head to toe in black.
The reassuring weight of his semiautomatic rifle soothed his nerves better than any drug. He had to buy the weapon with cash from some gun show, since that damn judge put his name on a list with the FBI. Like a sign from Heaven, the wind died down. Perfect. Shifting his weight, he savored the God-like sense of power from his perch. Randall drank in the grinning face of his prey at the other end of the scope…perhaps a moment too long.
With his whole world focused on the golden clasp of Dimone’s $1,000 power tie, John failed to notice some Secret Service agent near the target clutch his earpiece and shout. John sure noticed the chest-caving impact of an alert police sniper’s round ripping through his left lung a split-second later though.
His well-practiced, gentle squeeze on the trigger collapsed into an untidy jerk. John Randall’s body raced the spent casing to the ground, but he felt no regret. Relishing the fresh scent of decisive action and sweet gun smoke gave him a greater sense of peace than people would expect from someone drowning in their own blood.
*
Four hundred yards downrange, Congressman Scott wondered what kind of political stunt this was when someone yelled “Get down!” and his opponent shrieked like a schoolgirl. The pieces slowly came together when the
craaack
of something split the air, followed by his screaming rival falling backwards.
It all became crystal clear when the round missed Senator Dimone, struck an oversized flagpole behind him and ricocheted through the base of Congressman Scott’s neck instead. With the vertebrae shredded, Scott was dead before his body hit the ground. Even so, his disjointed head still made a comical bobbing motion closely imitating his famous, “Together, we can!” advertisements… all in front of the live, primetime coverage cameras.
Millions of voters watched their hopes die in high-definition detail. Thousands of filthy rich campaign donors saw a huge investment vanish faster than any stock market “flash crash.” Hundreds of other politicians witnessed the entire political landscape turn upside down. A half dozen television networks observed their ratings skyrocket.
Regardless of what each viewed from their unique perspectives, they all drew the same conclusion: whether they liked it or not, violence was now
the
decisive force in American politics.
It was a lesson none would soon forget.