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  "For speaking my mind?" asked Tim. "What about the First Amendment?"

  "You mean from the Bill of Rights in the United States Constitution, which no longer exists? That First Amendment?"

  "President Campbell is too smart to take away those rights," Tim said. "Besides, those rights are supposed to be incorporated into our new constitution whenever it's finished. We're all Americans at heart, and even if those rights are not yet technically legal, there's several hundred years of precedents. Everyone expects them."

  "I hope you're right," said Reggie. "But a lot of things can be taken away in the interests of public safety and maintaining order. Just watch yourself. That's all I'm saying."

  Tim shook his head. "Duly noted and thanks for the warning. Until next time?"

  "Until next time," agreed Reggie before walking down the stairs and out of the studio. Before getting to his bike, he put his hands in his coat pocket out of habit and felt a piece of paper in the right one. He pulled it out and saw the piece of paper Tim had been writing on. Reggie opened it and read.

  I don't believe you. If called upon to serve in any capacity, it simply is not in your nature to refuse. I'm voting for you regardless, and I'm not alone.

  Reggie crushed the piece of paper in his fist and threw it to the ground. He then climbed on his bicycle and rode home to have lunch with his wife.

  Chapter 3 - Reports

  Nathan Taylor felt like he was getting into the groove of his new job. More and more of his responsibility now resided with managing and directing security and intelligence work on behalf of the Jackson Purchase rather than actually doing that work. He sometimes missed the hands-on approach, but admitted it was not practical for the man in charge to be in the weeds. He was proud of how his organization and its people had grown, but he hoped to be able to step down soon and pass on the responsibilities to another. He felt more at home between the lakes than here in Paducah.

  "Here's the report you were asking about, Nathan," said his secretary, Helen, as she placed a folder on his desk.

  He picked it up and saw it was the monthly presidential summary on the progress of setting up the JP's intelligence apparatus. In the early stages of the JP's Strategic Security Agency, he had written nearly all the reports personally, but he now relied upon a number of trusted subordinates. Even so, nothing left his office without his approval. This particular document had come across his desk nearly a half dozen times and been sent back with corrections and additions. He hoped it was ready this time.

  Opening the file, he scanned the document.

  CONFIDENTIAL REPORT

  EYES ONLY FOR: Jackson Purchase President Paul Campbell and Council

  SUBJECT: Monthly Update Report

  FROM: Brigadier General Nathan Taylor, Director, Strategic Security Agency

  Mr. President,

  The SSA continues to make great strides in ensuring the JP's security. As we have talked about before, I firmly believe the basis for any realistic security preparation rests upon sound information. Unfortunately, we know little about the world outside of the JP, but the SSA is working diligently to rectify that shortcoming.

  As far as intelligence from the West Tennessee Republic, we have been successful in establishing our Trusted Travelers Program. As you know, JP citizens travel into the WTR frequently to visit family or trade and we debrief them upon their return. These travelers have also done moderately well at getting information from WTR citizens. Although this program has been less beneficial to our picture of the north and east, it does show promise.

  The west is another issue. Although we have conducted reconnaissance patrols across the Mississippi River, it has been difficult to gain practical information. Cairo, Illinois, although just over the river, has become a ghost town over the last few months. Most ascribe this and other vanished communities to the rise of the Missouri Alliance that has expanded east and north.

  We first learned of this group through our ham radio operators intercepting warnings. Initially, it appeared to be a small militia group headed by an ex-special forces officer named Vincent Lacert, but Lacert appears to have been successful in incorporating other armed groups, either willing or unwilling, under his command. Settlements in Missouri have either been destroyed or forcibly resettled further west. The few escapees we have been able to question tell stories of terrible atrocities and violence.

  Further intelligence is needed, and it is my recommendation that we utilize our long-range reconnaissance patrols to gather that information. I have also taken the precaution of ordering the militias to fortify their positions at the west end of all bridges leading over the Mississippi.

  There also remains the unresolved issue of who ordered the assassination of President Philips. Although the easy answer is to blame everything on the late General Sampson, such sophisticated intelligence operations require advanced operational tradecraft and security and therefore seem outside his area of expertise. I believe there is an unidentified spymaster still in the WTR. Whether he or she still has influence in the new government is debatable, but the possibility remains, and I have ordered our counterintelligence elements in the state police to be vigilant.

  My primary concern, which may be beyond my scope in the SSA but is concerning nevertheless, is with the predictions I am seeing for the coming winter. The harvests this year have been smaller than anticipated, and our population has not yet grown accustomed to practicing discipline in planning for the future. They continue to eat to excess and waste food. Reports indicate that significant amounts of corn and grain have gone into the production of alcohol. Although this alone is not necessarily problematic since fermentation is an excellent way to store calories long term, the alcohol is being consumed as quickly as it can be produced. In short, the food being put away for the winter is not sufficient to meet the population's needs. This will likely create a situation with food shortages, malnutrition, and possibly even starvation. There could be riots and protests, which might undermine the population's confidence in the legitimacy of the JP government.

  I would recommend the following: enforce food rationing immediately, outlaw alcohol production without permit and accompanying taxes of course, stockpile as much food as possible, and diligently trade with the WTR for any surplus food they have available. I know we have begun to accept their electricity payments in oil and tires, but food might be more critical at this time.

  On a positive note, our patrols have been testing radiation levels and found slight decreases in certain areas. It is now safe to within twenty miles of the city limits of Nashville and within twenty-five of Memphis. Louisville and St. Louis show no discernible decrease in radiation levels and the fish in the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers are not safe to eat. Our ham radio operators have still not heard any signals from any major US city, and our initial rough estimates indicate that as much as 50-75% of the pre-N-Day population was killed in the initial blasts or died from the subsequent radiation poisoning. What population remains is either isolated or in small communities.

  Shortages of resources are still an issue for the SSA. The personnel are barely enough to fulfill our mission, making training for new personnel nearly impossible. Pay is also sporadic, and most of my people are two months behind in pay from the JP. Even if they cannot be paid in cash, other items might be suitable. If we cannot get a larger fuel allotment, then we need more horses or bicycles.

  I welcome your thoughts and guidance.

  Respectfully,

  Brigadier General Nathan Taylor

  Nathan sighed. He hated adding the part about needing more resources. The intelligence update was certainly no place for administrative issues, but it had become more and more difficult to talk to President Campbell. Nathan used to interview him after every trip to the WTR, which was quite often, but now it was almost as if the man was avoiding him.

  "This one is hot," Helen said, laying a piece of paper on his desk.

  Nathan picked it up and knew immediately it was one
of the new telegraph messages. It had taken some convincing to get people to learn Morse code and run telegraph wires, but now it was the quickest and most reliable means to communicate over long distances. This one was from the Head of Defense for the JP, General Butch Matthews.

  START

  23 SEP – FOR CHIEF SSA FROM CHIEF DEF

  CONDUCTED MISSION TO FORT CAMPBELL TO OBTAIN FURTHER ARMS, AMMUNITION, SUPPLIES. FOUND THE ENTIRE SUPPLY GONE. COMPLETELY GONE. WOULD HAVE TAKEN OUR HEAVY CONVOY A DOZEN TRIPS TO EMPTY OUT THE SUPPLY, SO NOT JUST LOOTERS. BLAST DOORS BLOWN OFF BUNKERS. INDICATIONS OF HEAVY TRAFFIC TO THE SOUTH INTO THE WTR. WHAT AMMO AND ARMS WE CURRENTLY HAVE IS ALL WE ARE LIKELY TO GET.

  KNOW HOW TO MAKE GUNPOWDER? IF NOT, WE BETTER LEARN.

  STOP

  Nathan stood abruptly from his desk, stuffing the intelligence report and the telegram into his pocket. He strode to Helen's desk. "Give me the keys to the jeep."

  "Going to visit someone?" asked Helen, nosey as usual.

  "Yes," said Nathan. "I'm going to see the president."

  Helen got a concerned look on her face and flipped through a calendar. "I don't see it on your schedule. Would you like me to try to make an appointment with his office?"

  "No," said Nathan as he walked out.

  Chapter 4 - Reconnaissance

  Joshua Taylor probably could have let others lead the patrol. After all, he was a lieutenant and had numerous subordinates. But the truth was he was bored. And he liked to go on reconnaissance missions. Sitting around in the JP was enough to drive a man mad.

  He had decided to take his whole platoon with him into Missouri. They had seen indications of what was being called the Missouri Alliance, but with little concrete information, they really knew nothing. Recon's mission was always to find things out for certain. Rumors and indications were not enough.

  Joshua looked at his watch and turned to Aaron, his radio operator, "Third Squad is late getting back. Did they check in?"

  "No, sir," said Aaron, a lanky sixteen-year-old boy just fresh from training.

  Looking up at the sky, Joshua estimated there was less than an hour of sunlight left. Although Third Squad hadn't returned or checked in, it wasn't necessarily reason to worry. Recon knew how to survive and operate independently.

  They might not be in trouble, he thought. Could just be out of radio range or in a dead spot. Might have found something really interesting that warranted further scrutiny.

  Trying to ignore his troubled feeling, he looked around the perimeter. Two of his three remaining squads were in fighting position around the large depression that formed their current base, and the remaining squad was trying to rest and sleep. Joshua walked over to his platoon sergeant.

  "Billy," Joshua said. "I want you to have one team go out on each of the two major routes west from here at least a mile and set up their radios."

  "You worried about Third Squad?" Billy asked.

  Joshua shook his head. "I'm not sure, but something doesn't feel right."

  "Okay," said Billy. "I'll rouse the boys and put the other two squads on the perimeter just in case."

  "Also, tell those two teams to find good hide sites. Their job is to make contact with Third Squad, but also to warn us if anything is coming our way. They should not engage without my approval."

  "Understood." Billy moved off to brief the men.

  Joshua sat and brooded. Every part of his being wanted to take a patrol out in search of his lost squad, but he knew that was unwise. It would have to wait until morning.

  Like the rest of his unit, he settled down into the most comfortable position he could find and did his best to blend into the forest.

  *******

  Joshua's watch told him it was ten at night when his radio operator patted his shoulder.

  "Sir, Bravo Team says about twenty men just passed their position and are headed our way. They have rifles and some machine guns, but nothing too heavy. Says they look disciplined. No talk, good spacing, hand signals."

  "Got it," Joshua said, now fully alert. He turned to creep over to warn the platoon sergeant and squad leaders.

  The radio operator grabbed his arm. "There was something else, sir."

  "What's that?" asked Joshua impatiently.

  "Bravo Team says they have three of our men with them at the rear. Tied up and gagged, pulling them along on ropes."

  "Third Squad?" Joshua asked.

  "Yes, sir," said the operator. "Guess we know what happened to 'em."

  "Not yet we don't," said Joshua. "We're going to find out, though. Radio Bravo Team and tell them to move up behind the enemy and occupy a blocking position. Be prepared to snatch our people if the opportunity presents itself."

  "Roger, sir," said Aaron as he turned away.

  Joshua grabbed Billy and the two remaining squad leaders, briefing them on what he knew and the plan he had just formed in his head. To actually call it a plan was a little presumptive. I hope this works.

  As they waited, it seemed the stillness would stretch out forever, and Joshua was just starting to think that the incoming patrol had stopped or gone a different route. Then, he saw the first silhouette in the dim light. Soon it was accompanied by another and then another. Within a few seconds, half a dozen silent forms walked to within rock-throwing distance.

  With a loud pop, one of these men triggered a ground flare set just for this purpose. Before they all dropped to the ground, Joshua caught an image of the men, all of whom had dark clothing and dark camouflage paint on their faces.

  "It's okay," yelled out Joshua. "Hold your fire, we just want to talk."

  Silence. Then, a gruff voice spoke up. "What if we don't want to talk?"

  "Then you're in a bad spot," Joshua said. "I've got you in a kill zone here, and my men behind you have cut off any withdrawal."

  "Bullshit," said the voice. "No way anyone got in behind us."

  "Then how did we know you were coming?" Joshua said.

  More silence. "So what you want to talk about?"

  "I'd like my men back," Joshua said. "All of them."

  The men began whispering. "I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about."

  "Yes, you are," Joshua said. "You have three of my men with you, bound up. I want them and the others who were with them."

  "What if we don't want to give them up?"

  Joshua gave Billy a signal who tapped a machine gunner on the shoulder. That man opened up with his M240 machine gun and sprayed bullets over the heads of the prone men.

  "Those went over your head as a warning," said Joshua. "I got more of those machines guns aimed your direction. You're outnumbered nearly three to one. We're dug in and you're in the open. We have heavy weapons and you have none."

  "And," said the gruff voice, "you either have ammo to spare or are a damn fool to waste it."

  "It's not a waste if it prevents bloodshed," said Joshua.

  "What a queer idea," said the man with humor. "I thought bloodshed was the very purpose for bullets and guns."

  "So what's it to be?" asked Joshua, growing irritated.

  "Let me get this straight," said the gruff voice. "I give you your three men and you let us go?"

  "Almost," said Joshua. "You give me my three men and take me to the rest of my men. Then I'll let you go."

  "Son, I don't think you have any idea what you are about to get yourself into. I recommend you take your three men, let us go, and scurry back across the river and count yourself lucky. I could just cut these men's throats and there would be nothing you could do about it."

  "You're right, but none of you would survive. Now, I recommend you take my deal before I change my mind and blow your damn heads off."

  More whispering. "All right there, partner, but we're not giving up our guns."

  "Understood, as long as they stay pointed at the ground," Joshua said. "Now, let's start by sending our men in here."

  "I want your word," the gruff voice called out, less certain this time, "that you wo
n't go back on our deal."

  "You got my word," said Joshua. "Now send my men in."

  There were sounds of movement and scuffling from the darkness as three stooped forms materialized in single file and stepped gingerly toward the perimeter. As they came closer it was obvious they were in poor condition. Bruises, cuts, and blood covered all of them. Joshua's men grumbled as they saw their comrades. Billy stood up and helped them into the perimeter.

  "Now you got your men," said the gruff voice. "Why don't we all just take our fingers off our triggers and stand up?"

  "Sounds like a good idea," said Joshua. "I'm turning on a lantern; everyone hold your fire."

  Joshua lit and turned up the lantern's wick to cast a wide circle of light. In it, he saw dark figures rise up off the ground to his front. All of them were covered in dark paint and their heads were shaved. One large man walked to the front and stood facing Joshua.

  "Well I'll be," he said in surprise. "You in charge?"

  "I am," said Joshua.

  "You're just a young pup," he said and laughed.

  "That may be," said Joshua. "But I'm old enough to kill you, or to be more accurate, in charge enough to order my men to do it."

  "I like that." He chuckled. "A man of authority and what not?" He stuck his hand out. "My name's Conrad McKraven, Missouri Alliance."

  Joshua ignored the hand. "I'm Lieutenant Joshua Taylor, Jackson Purchase."

  "Knew you was from over there. Oh, we heard of you boys," said Conrad. "You're the ones with electricity, ain't ya?"

  Joshua's three released men had their bonds and gags off and were all talking together at once. Joshua turned his back on Conrad and walked over to hear what they were saying.

  "...ambushed us west of here..."

  "...killed Miles and Trumpy..."

  "...took the rest away..."

  "...forced us to lead them here..."