We passed the border of Arizona with no difficulty and made our way across the burning terrain under the cover of constant helicopter and jet traffic. I constantly glanced to the seemingly unmoving sun as we plodded our way across the state, watching citizens duck into their homes as our forces passed. We made our way from Nevada to Phoenix, AZ with no trouble and met with the 33rd Airborne at a nearby military base. I sat to the side, watching soldiers run about as if they were expecting an attack at any moment. It was a week since I met with Burns, or even talked to him, his time being dominated by his generals. I walked the troop barracks and the kitchen area, but was kept away from the front lines. I knew we were near the Mexican border, but I also knew that was a closed border due to a massive exodus of exiles and illegal immigrants, that most of the citizens of Mexico had escaped back to their home country. I realized too late that not all people gave up on the original dream of what they thought America was.
We reached Phoenix without trouble, but that night we received our first out-of-the-country resistance. I was in my guarded tent when I woke abruptly to the sound of an explosion. I sat up straight, but the soldier in front of my tent pulled back the canvas, revealing the bright explosions before the entry before they pulled it back down and told me to simply stay down. Being the stupid expatriate slash moronic writer that I am, I disregarded the orders and rolled outside the tent I was kept in. I rolled to my knees, the to my feet, and right in the barrel of a rifle against my forehead. I closed my eyes, expecting death, but I felt nothing, only a slight lessening of the barrel against my skin. The gunman in front of me said something to me which i didn’t understand, but simply dragged me forward. He dragged me behind lines of tanks and helicopters, firing shots towards the border. I ran in amazed silence as I saw the border to the United States close as massive amounts of heavy machinery move towards it. I watched, still in shock, as I saw the American Military being defeated by the combined effort of both the legal Mexican military and the illegal. The Country of Mexico had decided to go to war.
I don’t recall much beyond the lights flashing a mile away from me, but I knew I was being dragged closer towards Juarez with a haste that I still didn’t expect. I expected death to greet me in mere moments, but I suddenly saw John materialized from the darkness and grab my arm. He said something to me, but I couldn’t understand it as the fear I was experiencing crippled all my senses. John dragged me to a small factory, loaded to the brim with missiles and rifle rounds. I still couldn’t understand what was going on, but simply stood at the window, watching the lights that flared on and off as the US Military faced off in a battle to the death with the Mexican Military. I knew I was “safe”, but my heart was still pounding a million miles an hour. John grabbed my arm gently and pulled me towards another room which was reinforced by iron and lead. Faith was waiting at the door and gave me a quick hug before she escorted me into the room. I stood in silence as she held her arms around me, but I knew what was coming.’
I stood before the main council of the rebellion, which I knew would not be here by the time I walked out of the room. Faith held her arms around my waist, but wouldn’t leave, shaking her head as random Mexican army soldiers told her to leave. I glared at them, they glared at me, no longer trusting me. I listened to the explosions in the distance and decided to be the first to speak. I unwrapped Faith’s arms from me and looked in her eyes, letting her know that this is what I wanted. She let go and I stepped into the single light in the center of the room, something that was so cinematic that it almost made me laugh.
“I have been in the camp. I have known what they want to do. They is not them. They are him. The focus is not the soldiers, but him. Kill Burns. Kill him and you kill the government. I don’t know what John and the others have promised you, but I know what I am about to. Kill Burns, publicly. I am not a fighter, only a reporter. I deal in information, but I know who leads the death. I know who condones the ‘protection’. Sweden is not enough. Mexico is not enough. We need more and I will promise you more right now. You want your land back? You got it. You want your culture back? You got it. There is no longer enough Americans left to occupy the country that use to be.
Burns will not stop, ever, until he feels his country, his freedom is secure. I know this because I’ve talked to him. I’ve sat in his private quarters listening to his ramble, wishing he would realize just what he was doing, but that will never happen. We need to make him see what he is doing and that what he is doing will come at him a thousand-fold. Speak to anyone who has come in contact with him with us tonight, I won’t be the only one who says Burns must face the wrath he is bringing down on himself. Even I. . . even I will have to have more blood on my hands before this is done. Thank you.”
I sat down to a roaring applause as another person stepped forward to speak, but all I could think about was that young man who was my first kill in this war. His eyes glared at me from beyond and I was cold in this hot desert sun. He pointed towards the east and I knew where he was pointing because I could see the storm clouds forming from that direction. That is where our true test will happen, but first, we needed more allies. . . and I knew where to find them.
sonicpublications
Sonic Publications 