Read The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga Online
Authors: Marcus Richardson
"As I was saying," Jones began, "the program has turned up some remarkably fertile leads."
Jones glanced off-screen.
"Here in Kansas, for example," he lifted a piece of paper and began to read:
"We've turned up 17 families who were loyal to Harris.
The male heads of these families have been taken away to re-education camps and the women and children have been moved to a temporary holding facility, pending results of the latest testing."
Barron arched an eyebrow.
When he had told Jones to do something with the people that they round up from the program, the idea of re-education centers had sounded brilliant.
That said, Barron couldn’t see how it would work if the entire family wasn’t shipped off to be shown the error of their ways.
"Why are you only sending the men?"
Jones dropped the paper and stared at the screen.
"We have two levels of re-education centers, sir.
Level I is for the women and children.
It's also for anyone we deem nonthreatening, just misguided.
There they are taught that loyalty to America means loyalty to you.
We explain to them that it is their best—their only—option for survival.
They are instructed on what to say, how to act, and most importantly: how to communicate with us should they come across any other dissenters.
We teach them how to obtain food, water, shelter—”
“Wait a minute.
Why are we doing all this?”
“Sir, we’re not letting these people stay in their own homes.
The best way to re-educate someone is to remove them from their familiar surroundings, throw them into a new place, and force them to try and fit in with new neighbors."
"So, how do we know where to send the women and children?"
Jones nodded.
"A most astute question, sir.
I have some professors—pulled from local university registrar lists—they're conducting sociological surveys of the detainees right now.”
“I would think those are exactly the kind of people we
wouldn’t
be able to get involved in something like this…”
“Oh,” said the frog, “once they understood the seriousness of our request, every one of them fell in line.”
He smiled.
“We should have results in the next day or so.
What we're trying to determine is the minimum safe distance needed to transport these women and children to an environment where they will be uncomfortable and forced to conform.”
He held up a hand.
“I'm sorry, sir—force is too strong a word for what we’re trying to do.
We’re trying to find a spot for them so that they’ll fit in willingly, in order to draw less attention to themselves.
To do that, we also need to have information on which areas of the country are particularly loyal to you.
Once I have the data I need, we’ll begin transporting the women and children to these ‘safe zones’, as we've started calling them."
The President nodded, taking it all in.
So far, Jones was following the plan Reginald had laid out very well.
"And their men?
I don't suppose these women and children will be too loyal to me if we abduct their husbands and fathers and keep them separated…"
Jones nodded.
"Indeed.
Level II facilities will house male heads of families that have displayed tendencies to support Harris and his illegal administration.
Our first order of business is to separate the ones that are truly violent and/or planning on taking matters into their own hands.
If these men—after they’re tested by our psychologists—are determined to be worthy of rehabilitation, will be put through an extensive re-education program.
It may take months, we’re not sure yet—before they are reunited with their families."
"And, what are you going to do with the ones who refuse to submit to the re-education?
I’m sure there will be some…"
"I will need your authorization to use lethal force to dispatch enemies of the state, sir," said Jones.
The man showed no emotion whatsoever.
He just asked the President of the United States for permission to execute American citizens.
The shock of his words sent a shiver rippling through Barron’s chest.
My God, has it come to this already?
The President cleared his throat.
"I'm not too keen on authorizing executions just yet.
There doesn't seem to be any indication that—"
"Oh, there will be, sir.
Out here in the field," said Jones as he glanced off-camera, "the civilian population is almost at the boiling point.
I've seen I don't know how many fist fights and split heads and burned homes in the last week.
It’s very dangerous out here, sir.”
He paused to knuckle his eyes and stifle a yawn.
“At least in the mixed-loyalty areas.
In the safe zones everything seems to be going well.
We’ve distributed food, water, and medicine.
Loyalists seem to be taking everything in stride.”
Jones paused to take a sip of water.
“However, once you move further outside the cities and into the fly-over states, we’re finding a disturbing amount of support for Harris.
The people out here have been openly hostile toward us.
Kansas in particular.
In fact, sir, I've already lost three men."
"Lost three men?
How?" asked Barron.
That was not an auspicious start to his combining the federal agency security forces.
"They weren't even armed," said Jones with barely concealed disgust.
"They were merely researchers.
Sent out on a routine mission into the farmland surrounding Lawrence.
I assure you, sir, they had no hostile intent.
They merely drove around the area, inquiring of the local populace how they were getting on—if they needed food, water, medicine, what have you.
For the most part, people have been wary.”
“That’s understandable if things are as bad as you say…”
“Agreed.
For the most part, the information we’ve gathered so far has helped us understand that these people are quite self-sufficient.
They’re starting to run low on food, but most of them are farmers.
They're surrounded by cattle.
These people will be the most challenging to re-educate.
That's why I've set up my headquarters here, in Kansas City."
"Kansas City?
I thought I authorized you to set up shop outside of Philadelphia?"
"Yes sir, you did, however, Philadelphia is dead center on the Eastern Seaboard, an area that's already deeply loyal to you.
I felt it would be the best use of our limited infrastructure and transportation assets to set up our field headquarters closer to where the heart of our troubles are currently located.
We’ll have faster response times to hot zones that flare up if we don’t have to travel halfway across the country."
Jones blinked.
The expression on his face suggested that he was shocked the President had questioned his opinion.
Barron made a note to investigate a little deeper into the background of Tennyson Jones.
Jayne had vetted Jones—still under her drug-induced control, Barron had readily signed off on him.
"Very well, we'll see how things progress from Kansas City for now.
But in the future, when I make a suggestion, you are to consider it an order, not a request.
Are we clear?"
Jones nodded.
"Crystal, sir.
However, I think you will see that my decision to place the headquarters out here will ultimately be the wiser course of action.
As I said, one three-man team ran into some trouble two days ago.
They approached one of the more isolated residences and a man immediately demanded that they vacate his property.
His property," said Jones, his face incredulous.
"Can you believe it?
Martial law has been declared and the Constitution has been suspended.
We have foreign troops occupying most of our major cities and people out here still believe that they own their land.
The attitudes out here are simply stunning, sir."
I’m seeing some pretty stunning attitudes myself
.
"So the farmer advised your men to leave—"
"Two men, one woman.
And the farmer did not advise them, sir.
He stepped onto his front porch brandishing a shotgun and waved it at them."
"How do we know this?"
"Dashboard cameras, sir.
Just about every vehicle under my jurisdiction has had dashboard cameras mounted in them.
The individual agencies—especially the EPA—have had too many lawsuits in the past over abuse of power.
We were able to ascertain what happened and who to punish.
I will arrange to have the video sent to your office, for your personal review, sir.
But I must warn you, the video is quite graphic.
The farmer opened up at point blank and nearly took the head off one agent. The woman—"
The President closed his eyes and raised a hand for silence.
"That's all right, Tennyson, I'll review the video later.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Jesus Christ, I’ve got to stop this before it gets out of hand
.
“Just tell me what happened."
He'd seen too much death and destruction in the last few weeks, he did not need to be told how a farmer had killed three people—three government employees—in explicit detail.
"Of course, sir.
My apologies.
The dashboard camera clearly indicated that the farmer murdered my people in cold blood.
The video shows him dragging the bodies out to the car and leaving them there, without so much as a wooden cross or pile of rocks to keep scavengers at bay.
The callous way in which he dispatched the lives of these government agents is perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the entire incident."
The President took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
Some farmer had killed three agents—
his
agents.
People personally loyal to him.
It never dawned on Barron before now, but people who had sworn personal loyalty to him in the middle of this crisis were like his own children.
Jayne and Reginald had conspired long ago to make sure that his own family had disappeared somewhere into the interior of the country, under lock and key.
They claimed it had been necessary to protect them, but he had known all along it was to ensure his good behavior and compliance with their wishes.
He had fallen into a habit of not thinking about them in order to force himself to agree with whatever Jayne and Reginald demanded.
It had been so much easier that way.
He didn't have to worry about their safety.
But now, their absence left a hole in his heart that he filled with those who had declared their loyalty for him.
It was all rather twisted, he thought, but in a way it made sense.
At least, that's how he justified the anger he felt when thinking about the fact that three of his agents had been gunned down.
"What was our response?" he said in a quiet tone.
Jones’s face darkened and a smile, slick as oil, spread across his thick lips.
"I dispatched one of our response teams to the last known location of our agents the following day.
That would be yesterday, sir.
We're spread pretty thin out here, and the only way to get things done is to allow my teams to roam for a few days at a time.
However, when they don't check in at the end of the day, things being as volatile as they are out here in the sticks, I tend to err on the side of caution and send a response team immediately.”
Jones looked off-camera and nodded at someone.
He took an offered clipboard and signed a document as he talked:
“In this case, when the team arrived on scene, they found the abandoned vehicle and the bodies almost immediately.
A quick review of the dash cam told the team leader exactly what had happened.”
He handed the clipboard back to some unseen assistant and folded his hands on his desk, leaning in toward the camera.
“I authorize wide discretion to response team leaders as to what the rules of engagement will be for each particular situation.
It’s part of the incentive program for our new recruits…”
Barron wasn't sure how he felt about that little tidbit of information.
He made another note to settle what the rules of engagement should be in the future.
The last thing he needed was for Jones to crack down too hard and drive those people who would normally have been at least indifferent to him into the open arms of Harris and his traitors.