Chapter 48
Commander Bruce Anderson of the United States Armed Forces stood among the basecamp he had his soldiers had established in the Arizona desert. So much had gone wrong in this part of the world, and it was their job to restore order.
The soldiers who had first taken control of Phoenix and the surrounding area had done a fine job—a by-the-book operation as far as he had seen.
However, they were overcome by a band of crooks, led by a piece of scum-sucking gutter trash so vile that Anderson had officially banned the cretin’s name from being spoken aloud in his presence.
This Chainz wasn’t a man; he was an animal. He wasn’t deserving of a name like an honorable adversary would be. Anderson believed that criminal scum like Chainz and his followers were the lowest life forms on the planet, and he would see them destroyed with extreme prejudice.
He had been dispatched to this area in command of hundreds of soldiers, with one order alone. Take this area back and put down the criminal element with harsh prejudice.
The criminals had secured the city, but Anderson was confident they could take it back.
That wasn’t the issue here. The issue would come after the city had fallen to their rule once more when the fiend Chainz would lead the remainder of his army to take it back.
Anderson didn’t think that they’d be able to withstand that assault and survive with enough manpower to hold the metropolis.
He needed to thin the criminal ranks and take their base of operations.
He had sent scouts to check out that ranch they were using as their foothold in the region.
It was a fortress. They’d break on its walls like waves crashing onto a rocky shore.
That meant Anderson needed to watch the enemy’s movements and strike when the time was right.
Patience had never been a deficiency of his.
He could outwait any opponent. Once his scouts discovered a flaw in Chainz’s otherwise impenetrable armor, they’d be able to move out and meet him on the field of battle.
Chainz had managed to defeat the government forces that had occupied Phoenix using cowardly guerilla tactics.
He holed himself away in that fortress, content that an invading army would never be able to penetrate his gates without sustaining heavy losses.
However, Anderson knew that if he could face the Chain Gang on an open field of battle, with nothing between them but the air, the combat would be fierce and terrible, but the outcome would come quickly.
The Chain Gang would be demolished, and the US government would be on the road to reclaiming this area and restoring freedom and democracy to this great nation.
But while Chainz was an odious, honorless, filthy wretch, he was not an idiot.
He knew as well as Anderson that his forces could not hope to match a trained military unit in open battle.
That was why he kept himself hidden away.
That was why he dangled the city in front of Anderson as a tantalizing prize.
He wanted him to jump for it. He wanted him to storm the streets.
He was setting a trap that could inevitably wipe out the entirety of the US government’s forces in this area.
Anderson knew he wasn’t going to be receiving reinforcements anytime soon…
or ever. His superiors had made it known that this was their last-ditch effort to reclaim this desert wasteland.
The government was keeping the might of its military aimed at heavy metropolitan areas like Manhattan or Los Angeles.
Phoenix would be a feather in their cap, but it was far from a priority.
But Anderson was nonetheless determined.
He was going to bring victory to Uncle Sam and save these poor people from the criminal element once and for all.
Then, once he had secured this area, perhaps his superiors would give him a crack at Seattle or one of the larger urban areas.
This was the first rung on a very tall ladder, and Bruce Anderson intended to climb.
“Commander!” a soldier of low rank called out, running up to him between the tents. He stopped in front of Anderson, snapped to attention, and saluted.
Anderson returned the salute. “At ease, son,” he said, reaching up to wipe the sweat off of his brow.
This desert sun was hell when one wore a military officer’s uniform. The soldier relaxed his stance, lowering his arm.
“Sir, we’ve intercepted a horseman coming in from the east,” he said. “It’s a Native from the reservation.”
“Oh?” Anderson said, surprised to see one of the Natives travel out this far alone. “All by himself?”
“Yes,” the soldier replied. “He said he needs help…that his people need help. But that’s all he would say to us. He asked to speak to you, sir.”
Anderson sighed and nodded, motioning for the young man to lead the way. “All right, soldier,” he said. “Take me to him.”
Anderson followed the young man toward the command tent. Two soldiers standing on either side of the entrance snapped to attention and saluted as he walked inside. Within, there was a young Native man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties.
The Native was standing in the center of the tent, and Anderson strode up to him confidently as his subordinates looked on. It was important in this moment to appear powerful and authoritative. This was fairly easy to do since Anderson was quite powerful and authoritative naturally.
“I’m Commander Bruce Anderson of the United States military,” he said, his powerful baritone filling the space fully and settling around the timid-looking young man. “What brings you here to my camp?”
“My name is Doctor Adriel Tilzilani,” he said, looking up at Anderson as though he were some ancient god who had arrived from on high to solve all of his problems. “My people are in danger! We need your help!”
“Calm down, son,” Anderson said, holding a hand up. “What’s the situation?”
“The Chain Gang is coming in force to take over the reservation,” he blurted out. “They’re going to slaughter my people and take our land. They’re sending the bulk of their force right into the center of our village.”
Anderson’s breath caught in his throat. Was he hearing this correctly?
The Chain Gang was marching out in force to converge on one area, in a mostly open space?
His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, excitement breaking through his officer’s training as he now looked at the young Native as though he were sent from on high.
“When?” he asked, his voice quaking with excitement.