The Demagogue Wars

By C. Elmon Meade

What if 2020 not only continued for 50 to 100 years, but actually got worse? COVID-19 continually evolves and mutates, and it is not eradicated for several decades, which leads to a vastly different America. Politics devolves into tribalism, misinformation, and censorship reign supreme, identity politics via outsider social enginee

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: May 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885903912

C. Elmon Meade

Winner of the 2022 Feed My Reads Sci-Fi Novel of the Year. With 15 years of combined military experience-eight in the army and seven in the air force and the South Carolina Air National Guard-C. Elmon Meade served in Korea, Saudi Arabia, and Kuwait. He currently works in finance as a Lean Six Sigma Master Black Belt certified process engineer. He holds a BA in geography with a cognate in criminal justice from the University of South Carolina. Born in North Carolina, C. Elmon is a member of the Coharie Tribe with ancestors of Cherokee, Tuscarora, Lumbee, Yoruba, Angolan, European, and Turkish descent. He currently lives in Jacksonville, Florida and is a member of Christ's Church.

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Prologue

December 6, 2108, 7:06 AM ET - over downtown Jacksonville, FL, USA

W

hat a job, Bold City News7 traffic chopper and local events journalist Jonas Chop Bochtler thought to himself while looking down at his hometown bathed in beautiful, warm sunshine. This while most of the country was already unseasonably cold, if not already blanketed with fresh snow. Today was not just any other Thursday because he was finally getting a day off tomorrow to fly out to San Jose for his first son's wedding. Jonas and his wife, Marisa were so happy for their son and his bride-to-be. Adding a plate at the Thanksgiving dinner table next year for Sarah means Marisa, or at least in her mind, got to claim daughter number three.

Hey, Chop, alerted the pilot, Donald Hampton, himself a former Army aviator, looks like multiple northbound lanes are backed up just north of the river.

I wonder if those two smoke plums out by the beach have anything to do with it? Chop pondered, Wanna check it out? Donald nodded in the affirmative and followed I-10 briefly before banking the chopper slightly to the left to head more towards the northern beaches. He had every intention of keeping downtown traffic in his line-of-sight so Chop could still make his 7:10 traffic report right before Ginny's weather update. Every intention, that is until three very large, luminous balls of fire joined the two columns of smoke on the distant horizon.

Chop? Can you hear us, Chop? came a call over the Bold City News7 chopper's intercom & sat relay system.

I’m here, Nat. Has anyone reported a fire, correction, Jonas Bochtler swallowed hard, fires, we see multiple fires out towards the north of JAX Beach, maybe even north of Atlantic Beach, or— Before he could even say the words Naval Station Mayport, it hit him; he was about to report on a Pearl Harbor or 9-11 style attack. Here, in his beloved Jacksonville.

"Chop, we have been asked to keep our traffic helicopter away from Naval Station Mayport at this time. Eyewitnesses on the ground at Mayport are reporting that several warships, base structures, and the airstrip have been hit by cruise missiles from the west, co-anchor Natalie Briggs reported, can you confirm from your position. And again, stay where you are, as the FAA is closing the airspace around Mayport as we speak."

Chop looked down and sure enough, he could see the white, puffy contrails of missiles streaking over Mill Cove, then passing by Great Marsh Island, before terminating in the vicinity of Mayport. Jonas was stunned to the point of being speechless while his pilot was practically foaming at the mouth with anger and wishing this two-seater had a couple of Hellfire missiles racks on either side! Finally able to muster up some words for his loyal audience, Chop the traffic guy said, Nat, this is unbelievable. Of all the days, Jonas thought to himself, hands shaking uncontrollably.

Jonas, this is Malaika. VidVu is being flooded with numerous videos of a Democratic Socialist Republic of Monrovia-flagged container ship from Western Africa being utilized to launch, what a spokesperson from the Pentagon is saying, are Chinese YJ-18q cruise missiles. Apparently, these missiles can be remotely launched from prac—

Wait! We have breaking news! interrupted Natalie, before audibly gasping and pulling her left hand away from her earpiece to join her right hand covering her mouth. We now have reports of warplanes heading for NAS JAX—our city is under attack, Natalie said with tears now understandably rolling freely off her grief-stricken face. All of the Bold City News7 viewers were aware of Nat's husband, the former Blue Angels pilot and current Base Commander of Naval Air Station Jacksonville, being her connection to the area.

I’ve got them, Jonas confirmed with his trusted friend and pilot, we are heading to NAS JAX now and what I can tell—is there are line upon line of what look to be either transport craft, possibly carrying paratroopers or bombers, I can’t really tell, Jonas is struggling to give an accurate report in case anyone from the Air National Guard, NORAD, or the Pentagon has picked up their live feed. Oh my God, no—God please, Jonas says over the air, those are bombs! I can confirm that bombers are attacking NAS JAX in real time.

"Chop! This is Malaika, again. Mike is asking that y’all land ASAP, anywhere. Heck! Pick a rooftop if you must, just land safely so we know you two are going to be okay. The Air National Guard has NORAD alert fighter jets from our very own Florida Thunder Air Guard unit inbound with additional fighters from Tyndall Air Force Base and another Air Guard unit, the Swamp Fox from South Carolina, set to arrive any minute now."

Donald and Jonas had already made eye contact with three formations of banking Chinese J-58 stealth fighter jets headed straight towards them as they made their pre-choreographed turns to presumably make another pass at NAS JAX. When Donald pointed at his watch and then made a throat slashing gesture, Jonas knew that meant the jets in their flightpath would not be intercepted before hitting NAS JAX a second time. That could not be allowed to go unchallenged.

Malaika. Natalie. I am so, so sorry for today, Jonas says into his microphone headset.

Chop? No, listen to me. Y’all need to land, Malaika gently pleaded as best she could.

Please tell Ginny that I love her dearly. I love her so, so much! Jonas said as clearly as he could through a teary on-air goodbye. To my beautiful and delightful rose petals, the nickname Jonas has for his three younger daughters, Kaitlyn, Kyleigh, Candace, be good girls and listen to your mother for Papa. You three are the light of my eye and I love you. And son. God, this is so unfair! Thomas, I’m sorry about missing your wedding and not keeping my promise to have that father ‘n son talk at sunset I promised you on the night before your big day. I’ll say this and then go. Now Jonas, the man everyone in the Jacksonville viewing area knew as The Traffic Guy spoke directly into the camera as Jonas Bochtler. The father of Thomas Bochtler, a journalism major and investigative reporter in San Jose. "Love your wife Marisa with all your heart. And have lots of kids, I mean lots! Your mom will like that, Jonas said with a big grin. I love all of you guys— Then the screen suddenly went black; simultaneously as Donald Hampton and Jonas Chop" Bochtler paid the ultimate sacrifice by downing a single supersonic Chinese warplane by flying directly into the oncoming formation of jets. Tonight, the nation would mourn with the people of Jacksonville, Florida. Would this be the penultimate event to finally unite America?

ACT I

A Strange New World

Chapter 1

Groundhog's May Day

The forest was shrinking, but the trees kept voting for the Ax, for the Ax was clever and convinced the Trees that because his handle was made of wood, he was also one of them.

—Turkish proverb

May 1, 2120, 11:15 am ET, Revolution City, Potomac, New Republic of United Socialist States (NRUSS) (AP-CCRNA):

T

oday is the momentous, history-making Inauguration Day for Premier Joseph Thompson, Jr. of the New Socialist Party. This is truly a glorious occasion for the citizens of the New Republic of the United Socialist States and the People's Socialist and Communist Revolution sweeping the globe! Normally, an inauguration and swearing-in of a new President, now Premier, is held in January and accompanied by lots of heavy coats, hats, gloves, and more than likely, umbrellas. No need for such adornments today, as it is a sun-splashed day with an expected high of 71 degrees (F). Even better, the cherry blossoms are greeting today's invited guests and onlookers with an added bonus. Usually, the cherry blossoms have come and gone by the month of May. However, the unusually cool temperatures of the past four years, blamed on atmospheric disturbances caused by the environmental toll from decades of warfare, have upset the natural balance of many natural phenomena around the globe. As we have previously reported, global warming, a worldwide pandemic from a new coronavirus that is always a concern, political instability, and wars between nations culminated in what has come to be called the People's Glorious and Triumphant War by most historians and policymakers or simply World War III by others. It is believed the promise to combat "global cooling coupled with a hardline stance against territories and states engaged in open insurrection to the Will of the People is why the young, flamboyant, and heir to trillions, Joseph Thompkins, Jr. crushed his Constitutional Republic opponent, current Florida Governor Juan R. Reyes in a landslide victory at the polls. At a final tally of 98.4 percent of the popular vote, this has been called a mandate election, the likes of which has not been seen since 1984, when then-President Ronald Reagan won all but one state in his bid for re-election. The crowd is enthusiastic and boisterous and sporting their JTJ 4 Me!" t-shirts, yoga pants, and baseball caps. Just as interesting and not at all shocking, many I interviewed this morning are looking forward to seeing Vice Premier Shykia Jackson on the Capitol Grounds for the first time alongside her former running mate turned Red House colleague. Security is extra tight here today, but we expect this to be a celebration for the ages! Stay tuned today and for the days to come as we bring you all the news you need to know about the Thompson Administration and his plans for the New Republic of the United Socialist States.

* Reported by Buffy Bauer, Aggregated Press, a subsidiary of Communist China Revolutionary News Agency. Reporting from Federal Triangle, Potomac, NRUSS. Cleared by State Hologram Censors for immediate release. Copyright © 2120, AP-CCRNA, Corp.

I can’t believe this, Jason Wallace thought to himself as he slowly inched down Pennsylvania Avenue in what used to be called Washington, D.C. My, how quickly things changed in just a few decades. The Black Freedom Now! political action group turned into a Corporation, hocked merchandise, marketed social programs, and raked in billions from Corporate America. Next thing you know, B.F.N. Corp. turns into a political party, the Black Socialist Movement Party. As an outspoken activist and agitator, Shykia Jackson went from bombastic rhetoric like trying to change America's name from America to New Kemet to becoming the B.S.M. Party's frontrunner for President. While finishing a distant second place (supposedly) in the Primary Selection vote, here she was as Vice Premier. One heartbeat from leading the land she once referred to as Not America because, as she put it, This land should have never been called America! We are not Portuguese! she would always say anytime she could find a media personality with a camera crew. Well, sister, I ain’t no godless Commie or Socialist either, but here we are! Jason's internal dialogue was suddenly interrupted by a tug on his backpack. He spun around, prepared to defend himself, only to realize it was just Dougie.

What did I tell you about surprising me? I almost decked you.

My bad, Homie. Did you notice all of the sharpshooters on the rooftops on your way in? Is this nuts or what? Douglass Dougie Nichols asked excitedly.

Yeah. I noticed. Now keep your trap shut. They have eyes and ears everywhere, Jason said without first looking at his childhood friend. Then, after making eye contact with Dougie, he drove the point home, Everywhere.

I got it, bro. I got it. You’re Dorothy, I’m Todo, and this ain’t Florida! Dougie settled in next to his best friend and the one guy in this strange new world he looks to for guidance. He knows without a doubt Jason is a Patriot just like him. The time for talking and trusting the political process is over. Something had to be done to take back the country they once knew. Hey, bro. Thanks again for the ticket. I can’t believe you got your hands on these tix and the passport stamps to boot! You really are the O.G. from the N.C.! Back in the day, O.G. was gangsta rap slang for Original Gangsta, but in 2120's hyper-policed, constantly surveilled, and heavily data- mined environment, a new form of slang was required. Fortunately for the rebels, state sensors and sniffs (slang for state spies) had not figured out that O.G. in this context stands for Occupation: Groundhog. Utilizing the internet, telecom satellites, or anything remotely 21st or 22nd-century technology was a huge no-no for Rebels. One slip-up on a cell phone, and you could very well become one more disappeared one on an ever-growing list of people who vanished without a trace. Thus, the 22nd-century off-the-grid courier had literally gone underground for hibernation. Coincidentally, hibernation was also slang for His Blood Equals Rebellion Nation. HiBERNation was just one of the first organically formed names given to the numerous rebellions that broke out across the former United States. While some rebel groups had a religious theme (His Blood, for instance), others used local war heroes from past wars (S.W. Virginia Stonewallers) or went with an unoriginal idea stolen from Hollywood. For example, the yoopers (U.P. = Upper Peninsula) of Northern Michigan were called the Wolverines in an obvious homage to the 20th-century film Red Dawn.

You’re welcome. Now stop talking. Jason shot a glare toward Dougie that all but commanded silence. Getting the tickets to the sham Inauguration was the easy part. As for the passport stamps, well, that's a whole ‘nother story. Keeping contact with old friends in high (occupied) places had its privileges. His brainiac cousin back in occupied North Carolina is a genius at hacking Chinese systems and could produce all kinds of official government documents and papers. Two passport stamps were nothing for that kid. Jason worried about his family in the Carolinas constantly. The bulk of his family, including his nuclear family of five, live in the Triad area of North Carolina, which is a so-called Border State between the NRUSS states and the not quite capitulated states of the former United States of America. Or, as the state media would say, one of the unfortunate states facing a lawless insurgency of radicalized terrorists and enemies of the state. Jason also had family in South Carolina, many of whom moved there to continue fighting the war against the Chinese-backed Communists via trench warfare and guerilla tactics that would make the 20th-century Viet Cong and Mujahadeen proud. Apparently, the good people of South Carolina did not want to be outdone in the Second American Civil War by their ancient ancestors from the first War Between the States three-and-half centuries ago. It was his family in Lexington County, SC, that got him involved in the subterranean Groundhog communication initiative. After all, every army, be they highly trained and equipped state armies or rag-tag guerilla fighters, must have a way to communicate with one another.

A noticeable amount of time had ticked off the clock since Jason first started working his way up Pennsylvania Avenue. Out of boredom and to dissuade any unnecessary chit-chat from Dougie, he passed the time by doing exactly what all the other good little Sheeple of the State were doing; he turned to NeuroVizn to waste time and, in this case, fit in. After blinking on his NeuroVizn State holographic feed, he immediately remembered why he hated this technological marvel with a passion. Every flat surface he looked at was running State Hologram Censor-approved news, sports, and celebrity stories, government advertisements, and reruns of the sham election footage as faux documentaries. One could always tell who in a crowd was blink scrolling because they stood perfectly still and would appear to be staring off into space while moving just their heads around in search of a flat surface like the sidewalk or the side of a building. About every fourth or fifth flat surface one looked at was filled with blinkbate ads, which the average person would blink on repeatedly until half of the day was wasted on literally nothing. Jason once wasted five hours on meaningless two-minute videos hosted by VidVu: cats playing with yarn, teenagers either dancing or filming pranks, random car shows, etc. While the Thompson family-owned NeuroVizn is for state programming, including podcasts and social media influencers, the real usefulness of the tech-trans-sapient cybernetic technology was far more amazing.

The story Jason retells to anyone who will listen is second-hand knowledge from his war veteran grandfather. During his grandfather's time in the U.S. Army, the government implanted tiny microchips into every man and woman in the Armed Forces, followed by regular Joe Six-Pack and Suzie Q's in the country. Somehow, this went into full overdrive to ensure every living human being (and horses for some bizarre reason) were chipped to prevent a terrible and, in most cases, immediately fatal disease called Anti-Myelination Wasting Disease (AMWD). Just one more fantastic side-effect of the 2061 version of the coronavirus known as SARS-CoV-15, X.61.201.7 variant or to the average layperson, COVID-61 Super X (or from the Greek Chi, pronounced KAI) variant. The Chinese-controlled World Health and Conformity Organization (WH&CO) slyly named this variant Chi (or Xi in Chinese) as a nice book end to the origination (under former Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leader and President Xi Jinping) and finality of the global pandemic. The science behind this NeuroCRE Chip was a bio-interface capable of electrically stimulating one's own body to regrow the myelin sheath around neurons and a new type of leukocyte to effectively destroy the virus and end the disease.

This space-age scientific miracle was made possible by Joseph Thompson Sr.'s otherworldly brainpower, money, and access to power. However, it was also possible thanks to governments around the globe taking DNA from the cadavers of individuals who were flippantly called Boxcars for a couple of twisted reasons. First, they neither contracted the original bio-engineered (some would say weaponized) SARS-CoV-2, popularly called COVID-19 (then later the Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, Mau, and Zeta variants), nor did they receive any of the six popular mass-produced, and in most cases mandatory, vaccines for the six variants. Every craps player knows when you roll two sixes, in this case, six deadly viral variants and six vaccines, you have boxcars! Last but horrifyingly not least, another reason these volunteer cadavers were called Boxcars was because all these deceased individuals were exhumed from cemeteries and placed on refrigerated boxcars to be delivered to one of five dozen United Nations (U.N.) approved University Medical or Military Hospital facilities around the globe. (Note: This was, of course, prior to the U.N. being re-chartered as the United Socialist Nations or the U.S.N. for short.) People were prevented from taking the ashes of cremated loved ones to spread the ashes in an appropriate place where the loved ones would have liked or wanted. Instead, these families were forced to allow the ashes to be confiscated for the betterment of the People.

Looks like we’re almost ready for our daily dose of propaganda! Dougie boasted with his usual easy smile and banter. No sooner did the words leave his mouth before the United Socialist States Marine Corps Band struck up the first notes of the Chinese National Anthem. It was not lost on anyone in attendance that at least two-thirds of the band members were 6’5" Chinese-born bodybuilders; actually, make that bioengineered, gene therapy-induced Super Sino-Soldiers. The crowd fell silent and turned to the west to render an upside-down salute to Beijing. The upside-down salute was sold as a glorious statement of solidarity with all of the Communist and Socialist Peoples of Our World when really it was a slap in the face to every Patriot as a symbol of failure, defeat, and surrender.

Jason Wallace went along with the charade, so he did not stand out in the crowd. Those not rendering the salute were almost always beaten with billy clubs, hog-tied, and thrown in jail for a brief stint of re-education by the State. Sometimes, an individual on a watch list or deemed a person of interest will not salute and subsequently be shot with a tranquilizer dart and dragged away for interrogation by Party Officials, known as the Internal Standards and Censorship Police or ISCP. Jason easily tuned out the despicable anthem playing in the background. He just recited his favorite personal mantra over and over in his head: This will not stand. This will not stand. This will not stand.

May Day, May 1, 2120, earlier, Beijing time, Parade Grandstand, Tiananmen Square

President and General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party Hu Wanquan had grown weary of waving and saluting, along with his Premier Li Jinping and Vice Premier Han Xiaoping, but he suddenly found a renewed surge of prideful energy at the sight of American vehicles below him and American fighter jets in the skies over Mao Zedong's portrait. All Chinese Communist Party officials were shaking hands and patting each other on the back in celebration of their victory over the hegemonic superpower and enemy of China, the country formerly known as the United States of America. Seeing American M2A3 tanks in formation, flying the colors of the New Republic of the United Socialist States (NRUSS) on the left side and the Chinese flag on the right side of each tank had Party officials in tears and even openly embracing one another; a sight seldom, if ever seen! The few remaining American F-35s and B-21s post-war were flying in formation overhead, each having a red star with red stripes on either side (the old WWII insignia, but no blue) emblazoned on the bottom of their wings, along the fuselage, and on their tail fins. The greatest rival and threat to the People's Republic of China was no longer an obstacle to their own hegemonic aspirations but was now a willing ally and accomplice to One World Communist rule. In fact, the new Socialist governments in North America and Europe almost ensured Chinese dominance of the globe for ten generations or more. This truly was a May Day like no other!

May 1, 2120, 11 am PT, Moscow, Idaho, the United States of Free America

"Welcome to The Redoubt, or I guess now I should say Redoubt West, thanks to the advances of the Mountaineer Militia and The Kanawha Legion out east, explained Sarge Christian to the recruit standing to right. Idaho was ground zero for militia of all kinds, former combat arms veterans, former law enforcement, gun enthusiasts, and even some less than savory characters who were looking for a fight with the Godless West Coast reprobates and their Communist Chinese invaders! All were welcome in the Redoubt as long as they swore allegiance to the United States Constitution and were willing to fight to the death. Criminals, escaped prisoners following the war(s), white supremacists, biker gang members, normal individuals looking for revenge; none of that mattered here. There is but one mission and one mission alone here, youngster: Kill ALL Socialists, Communists, and enemies of the Constitution of the United States of America. Do you comply?"

Yes, sir! Without a doubt! answered the new recruit, chest stuck out and chin held high. This kid has no idea what he is doing. Ideology can get you killed.

"Alright then, without a doubt. You’re one of us now! Moving back to his workbench of disassembled weapons of all sizes and functions, Sarge picked up the lower receiver of an H&K MP-5 and asked, Where ya from, no doubt?" He cleaned furiously while awaiting an answer.

Eastport, Sir, after a slight pause, he continued, And the name is Justin, Justin Beaulieu, and I’m originally from British Columbia, Canada, but when things started to go bad, I ran away from home with the intention of coming to the States. I knew Washington state or Olympia would welcome the Chinese with open arms since they were practically Commies anyway. I moved east and waited for an opportunity to cross the border to Eastport or Porthill, Idaho, so I could do my part.

Alright then, Justice League, purposely saying the Canuck's name wrong. Two things. First off, stop calling me sir. I go by Sarge, and for good reason. Secondly, I don’t see a weapon on you; do you know how to handle a rifle? Shotgun? Pistol? Anything larger than a butter knife?

No, sir, catching himself and immediately reversing course while shaking his head, eyes closed, No, Sarge. The Gun Laws in B.C. have been intolerable since before I was even born. I’m a fast learner, though!

I bet. Sarge walked away from Justin toward the far end of his shop. Not knowing whether to follow or not, Justin stood fast like a Karl Marx statue on a pedestal. Suddenly Sarge let out an eardrum rupturing whistle with two greasy and grimy fingers in his mouth. Within seconds a hulk of a man appeared, Ranger Rug haircut, woodland camo fatigues head-to-toe, Hershey bar black boots, and weapons hanging from him in all directions. Rick. Meet Robin, or Superman, whatever. He's a greenhorn, to say the least. Take him out to our zero range and break him in—just don’t break him. Not yet anyway.

You got it, Sarge! Rick looked his new trainee up and down, then smiled from ear to ear before throwing him a shiny new, unloaded AR-15. Nice dress shoes, Batman. Rick pointed to a footlocker on the opposite wall and started barking instructions. Grab two canteens, a pistol belt, combat boots, preferably a left and a right (rookies!), two pairs of socks, and a box of T.R. double E's. If we’re out of those Israeli T.R. double E's, then go next door and ask Malachi to hook you up. I’ll get a hydration shell, ruck, and med pack ready for you. This is going to be fun!" Rick said, laughing riotously. Justin's head was spinning, and he needed to puke before going to see Malachi. Justin scooped up as much equipment as he could in a two-arm bear hug, also using his chin as a point of contact, and began to shuffle toward the door, only to be halted by a screaming Sarge.

I don’t need your rifle, son! yelled Sarge while shaking his head in disgust. How about you take it, so you can at the very least attempt to save your own hide in case you run into trouble or trouble finds you?

But first, said Rick, still donning his sadistic smile, "how about you drop all that gear on the deck and then you join said gear for forty military push-ups? Move it, sweetheart!"

May Day, May 1, 2120, 11 pm, Beijing time, Zhongnanhai video- conference room

President and General Secretary Hu Wanquan waved his hands downward, permitting the Party Ministers to take their seats and get back to their drinks and chatter. President Hu Wanquan settled in for the day's main event in his plush armchair, a gift from the Province of Mao Daˇo, formerly known as Taiwan to the rest of the world. For decades, Beijing was humiliated by referring to the rebel territory as Chinese Taipei, knowing full well the island is, was, and forever will be Chinese territory. However, the Second American Civil War was a crisis for the West and a divine opportunity for the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). The CCP quickly moved in on Hong Kong and Taiwan to crush any semblance of democracy and/or rebellion. Hong Kong was the easy part and succumbed to Beijing's wishes rather early. Years of misinformation, missing opposition political leaders, and mysterious deaths among the youth of elites and universities meant Hong Kong was quelled without so much as a whimper.

Taiwan was a different story altogether. Brutal, full-scale, and some would say unhinged warfare, the likes of which had not been seen since the Imperial Japanese Rape of Nanking or the bombardment of the Warsaw Ghetto in Poland during the 20th century. Within the first 90 minutes of the War of Glorious Reunification, Taiwan had endured a bombardment unlike anything in the history of human warfare. Chinese military leaders did not release official numbers from the unannounced invasion, but the Pentagon's report to the Senate Armed Services Committee estimated a total of 42,000 tons of warheads delivered to the island via 2,300 air force sorties, cruise missiles, ballistic missiles, and rocket-propelled artillery. Formal accusations of the use of chemical weapons against Taiwanese naval and air bases as first strike maneuvers fell on deaf ears at the United Nations (U.N.). Not surprisingly, the Chinese Ambassador to the U.N. was on hand in Manhattan just four months later to announce the new U.N. Charter and the renaming of the body to the United Socialist Nations, now headquartered in Sinkiang, China. The former waterfront U.N. Headquarters in New York was destroyed in a mysterious overnight, all-consuming fire. The fire was all too conveniently blamed on Copperheads from upstate New York, sympathizers to the Rebels (much like their ancestors from the first American Civil War).

General Secretary Hu Wanquan and his number two, Premier Li Jinping, listened intently to the newly appointed Premier of their satellite state, the New Republic of the United Socialist States. There were highly orchestrated and essential CCP talking points and themes within the speech, which would be hammered home by state media and NeuroVizn censors. All CCP officials would turn to each other and nod in agreement each time they heard one of these Vision Statements being read by the son of internet, transportation, and retail oligarch Joseph Thompson, Sr. The elder, self-made trillionaire, Joseph skirted American and International Law to form multiple monopoly businesses which essentially turned the average consumer into a willing participant in the destruction of capitalism. Now his good-looking, smooth-talking son was using the influence and power handed to him at birth to run arguably the second most powerful nation on Earth. Just before the traditional swearing-in ceremony in which Joseph Thompson, Jr. will raise his right hand and place his left hand on a leatherbound copy of The Communist Manifesto, Gen. Sec. Hu Wanquan stood and said, "He is my little stooge. My personal Il Duce Secondo," he facetiously proclaimed with his hands on his hips as if to mock the first Italian Duce, Benito Mussolini. The room erupted into laughter, and toasts of Japanese sake and American whiskey were held high as the most powerful man in human history exited the room.

Chapter 2

The Junta and the Hope for Peace

May 1, 2120, CSBC-CCRNA Live Broadcast: Revolution City, Potomac, NRUSS:

"W

ell, there you have it, folks, newscaster Alvin Gregerson said as he looked at the clock on set. It is now 1:48 pm E.T. here in the Nation's Capital, and Premier Joseph Thompson, Jr., with his Vice Premier Shykia Jackson looking on, has made his case for the way forward for our nation and, quite frankly, all other nations as well; even those who hold ill intent toward us and our closest ally, The People's Republic of China. Shalonda, thoughts?"

I think you have done well to capture the essence of what we just witnessed, Alvin, affirmed Shalonda Jackson, the younger sister of the newly elected Vice Premier. "Look, this movement, which has been in the making since the very first Black Socialist Movement, calls for justice for our Black citizens, and all minorities or protected persons, all the way back in 2012 with the killing of Black teens by White Supremacists, is just getting started. It's like a snowball rolling downhill, really, Shalonda says while shaking her head in the affirmative and pointing back at the Capitol building. This thing is just gaining speed, getting bigger by the minute, and those in its path who are on the other side of the spectrum of social justice and equity for all, will either jump on or get crushed by the enormity of its weight and political capital. My big sis, our newly elected Vice Premier, Shalonda proudly gloated and smiled, will be the first to say that having a Racial Equity and Social Justice ally like Premier Thompson on board means we cannot fail!"

Turning now to our Environmental Affairs Correspondent, Elisabeth Gaˇngshēng, Alvin spun his chair toward Elisabeth. What did you hear from today's inaugural speech that gives you and perhaps the rest of the country some hope for a unified Environmental Policy from the Thompson Administration?

"That's just it! There will be a unified Environmental Policy based on the United Socialist Nations 2118 mandate and in accordance with the Wuhan Accords of 2108. The administration has put forth an enormous amount of effort and capital, human capital and thought capital, to ensure a course correction that will bring Global Cooling to an eventual end. The stakes are too high otherwise," Elisabeth said with surety and conviction.

I believe the terminology ‘Snowball Earth’ has been tossed about, yes?

Exactly. We find ourselves on the precipice of possibly the worst Ice Age in global history, Ms. Gaˇngshēng confidently declared before continuing, which is exactly how environmental policy is joined at the hip, so to speak, with quelling violence in the contested zones. As well as bringing the so-called Free America Rebels to the peace negotiating table as soon as possible.

Thank you, Elisabeth, for your timely and poignant segue to our next guest and top military leader in the land. Supreme General Theodore Theo Hanks, the nation's only 5-Star General and former U.S. Army Joint Chiefs of Staff, now joins us to discuss the insurgency and uptick of violence in the Midwest and what is now being called the Corridor of Black Suppression and Genocide. Mr. Gregerson pauses to press his earpiece firmly into his left ear before continuing, Supreme General Hanks. Can you hear me, sir?"

Yes. I am here, responded General Hanks, callsign Theo, as coldly and directly as his reputation suggested.

Good! Thank you for joining the One World News Desk on this momentous day in our nation's history. The rebellion, General, Alvin paused for effect before continuing: What will it take to get the Rebels to talk peace and to— Mr. Gregerson was stopped coldly mid-sentence by his distinguished guest.

"There will be no peace for those who wish to continue fighting for a Lost Cause, especially for the Southerners who feel like they can cut ‘n run to form their own Banana Republic. They will be brought to heel one way or another. Negotiation, bargaining, and talks of armistice are no longer palatable options for the New Republic of the United Socialist States or our friends and allies in the People's Republic of China, the European Socialist Union, or the United Socialist Nations. All this banter comes full stop. Here. Now." The country's top General stared coldly into the camera allowing his last two words to hit his internet and NeuroVizn audiences like a hammer driving a nail home.

With all due respect, Supreme General, Alvin shot a quick glance toward both Shalonda Jackson and Elisabeth Gaˇngshēng before cautiously continuing, I believe each of us here, as well as our viewers, heard a different policy vision laid out in the newly elected Premier's inaugural speech. Would you agree, Supreme General?

No.

Alvin Gregerson, a 24-year journalism and news editor, noticeably swallowed hard and tried to compose himself before delivering a new line of questions. So, the naval blockade of the southern coastline, General Hanks. Will that part of Premier Thompson's military plan move forward, or will the Pittsburgh Accords Treaty with the former state of West Virgin—

"We are involved in a fast-moving and fluid insurrection against an elected, representative government which governs by the will of the people, and things change, Mr. Gregerson. There are a great many things unfolding at this very minute that neither I nor anyone in this administration will be telegraphing to our insurgent irritants. Their choice is clear. Stop fighting, turn in your weapons, declare allegiance to our New Republic, and abide forever in peace and security in accordance with the Will of the People. Or—be destroyed. Now, if you will excuse me, the Supreme General quips while standing to remove his microphone and sound pack, I have a war to win." With the last word, he threw the mic and accompanying equipment to the ground and walked off the set, service headgear tucked under his left arm.

The camera tried to follow Supreme General Hanks down the stairs but lost him due to the unplanned exit. The control room threw the live feedback to Alvin Gregerson and company at the desk, where awkward silence was met with the shuffling of papers before Alvin finally interjected, Okay! I guess that's live television for you! Alvin's trademark smile drew a bit of laughter from Shalonda and Elisabeth before Alvin coolly threw the feed to a commercial break.

Who pissed in his oatmeal this morning? Shalonda Jackson asked defiantly before scoffing in disgust. I can’t wait to hear what my sister thinks about this interview. Maybe big Sis and ole JTJ can remind the good General who it is he works for!

Elisabeth Gaˇngshēng remained silent and used her gathering of materials as a cover for not engaging in any conversation possibly deemed unpatriotic. Elisabeth, being a former citizen of Hong Kong and current dual citizen of China and the NRUSS, knew full well who the Supreme General works for, and those superiors are in China tonight.

May 1, 2120, 1:55 pm PT, East of Moscow, Idaho, the United States of Free America

"C’mon, Batman! You gotta keep up better than this,