Chapter 1-3: Opening Moves - Out of Sight

Sharon- United Human Faction- Night 1

            Sharon was never interested in hiding away. She wasn’t the kind of leader who sat back and watched what others did; she was a warrior, and a good one. Even when there was no fighting to be done, she remained on the front lines. This night, the front line was San Francisco, the hub of all Faction activity.

            Her home was not the site of a battle the way Vegas had been only a few hours before, but the people of this city had seen little aid since the Second Korean War. They were ready for change. Already, barricades were being set up on every road in the Bay Area, and Alcatraz had become home to every makeshift missile launcher or cannon it could hold. Sharon watched the scattered boats of her volunteer Navy prepare to defend the Golden Gate. She knew there would never be an attack on this city, but the formalities couldn’t hurt. This was to be the home of the Revolution. It was her home.

            Paul sat down next to her on the balcony and removed his glove. His job was the worst of all the founders’. As the Northern Regional Commander, he oversaw everything from Monterey to the Canadian border. That included New York and Las Vegas, where the more of the Faction was lost than the rest of country combined. After six hours of nonstop reports, he needed a moment to catch his breath.

            “Any news,” Sharon asked.

            “Good or bad?” Paul replied, examining the scars running up his arm.

            “Let’s take the good first.”

            “We won most of the West coast, especially the regions hit by Korea two years ago. The East Coast is still under the impression that anyone opposing the government is a terrorist, so we’ve had no luck past Bismarck, North Dakota.”

            “Even New York?”

            “Especially New York. Our borders are,” Paul continued in a monotone, pulling out a map, “Canadian Border, Bismarck, Rapid City, Casper, Blanding, Clovis, Snyder, San Angelo, Mexican Border. The East Coast sees us as terrorists after the incident in Times Square.”

            “That’s not nearly as much as Thomas promised us. We didn’t even get Colorado!”

            “On top of that, only forty senators were captured. Teams are reporting thirty-seven dead and twenty-three escaped. Nothing’s gone according to plan. I need sleep.”

            “Where’s Julian?”

            “Hell if I know. He disappeared a few hours ago. Try his private cell, that’s how I usually reach him.”

            Paul stood and put his glove back on. Sharon waited several minutes, and left for the wharf. When she arrived, everything seemed normal to her. There was no sign of the Faction or the Union, no guns, no barricades. She knew what she was fighting for. There was no regret in her heart. This was good, and no matter how wrong things seemed to go, everything would end well for them, and for their families.

            She pulled out her phone and called Julian. It rang once, twice, three times. Again she called, and after three more rings, there was no answer. And again. And again. On her fifth call, a mechanical voice requested her name and number after only two cries. What she regretted were not her choices, but his.