DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "The Fist of Darkness."
[Version Control : Original.]
[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are
not of age to view it, be somewhere else. This series of
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]
Anything can happen in the Multiverse. Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't. A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind. A
world known as: The Darkside.
The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt. When
those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled. Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger. The Survivors of
the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of
Anarchy.
Chapter 11. "Within The Fist of Darkness." -- by KTM.
The severe autumn was shaping up to be yet another hard
Winter. As the privations of the season began to clamp down on
the North, everyone felt the lack of the fuel and supplies that
were readily available under the economic system. The
Empire wasn't hurting much, because the Emperor supported them.
Months after Robert had tamed the nuclear weapons, his
Black Legion, now 15 divisions strong, were ready to move against
General Stark's conventional forces. Robert's military numbered
in the many thousands, with most of the able bodied and many
women in his four state Empire joining it, in order to fulfill the
full employment requirement. Even the Power Team had a role in
the Legions, as the premiere Special Forces unit.
But Stark's soldiers felt the lack of the taxpayer's
tributes, and raided the civilians of the surrounding communities
near them for basic supplies. Many areas in the North Eastern
U.S. suffered these attacks, causing them to plead with the Dark
man to deliver them. He was willing to oblige, but while the
Empire prepared for the coming Campaign, the innocents outside it
were suffering.
Sergeant Brad Donovan loved going to town for supplies.
His Platoon was composed of first class fuck-ups that the Army
wanted to get rid of. They were in his care because only Brad
could control the rowdy bastards. The "regulars" considered them
criminal scum, and their Platoon was dubbed "The Rats".
One of them, Corporal Steven Leigh, was accused of raping
a little in the foreign country he'd been based in. The
scandal had been embarrassing, but they couldn't prove he did it.
Still, the PR was so bad, they'd sent him home, for a face saving
Court-Martial.
Donovan's band proved efficient at sniffing out goods
civilians tried to keep for themselves. This success did a lot to
change their previous record of being slackers and thugs. Brad
wasn't babysitting bad-boys anymore; now he led perfectly
suited for 'requisitioning' missions. Every sort of leverage and
threat was tried to get the supplies, but it was Corporal Leigh
who found the most effective means of all.
The Rats came into town for warm clothing and blankets.
Donovan provided the diplomatic angle, while two ex-MP's, Rillburg
and Renes, served up the threat of violence over the barrels of
their machine guns.
"Look Mr. and Mrs. King, under the National Economic
Emergency Act passed by the U.S. Congress, you're required to
render what assistance the Military requires," Sergeant Donovan
said, patiently. "You're the community leaders, and we're not
leaving until we have what we came for."
He nodded to where the former MP's leaned against the
doors of the town's council chambers. "Here is the legal
requisition of supplies from my commander. I'm not going back to
base without the materials it specifies."
"Yeah," Private Doug Renes said, fingering his weapon, "it
might be...unhealthy. For us, and for you." The Rats shifted
uncomfortably, remembering the dire threats that had made about
summary executions if they didn't deliver the winter supplies.
Tom King had learned not to raise his voice against them.
He'd gotten a black eye for it last time. "Sergeant, what you see
here is everything we can spare. That has to be good enough; we
can't give you anymore. Just tell your Captain that's all there
is, he'll understand."
"It's you who don't understand," Private Kyle Rillburg
said. "If we don't come back with *everything* the Captain wants,
he'll take it out on our hides, and frankly, King, I'd rather
take it out on yours."
"You expect the Military to serve the public," Donovan
said, "right?" King nodded. "When the public was paying taxes to
support the Military, that was true. But that isn't happening
anymore, King, and we're not asking for charity. I'm three months
in arrears of my pay, and I'm willing to take it in goods. Since
you aren't supporting us with your taxes, we'll take your
possessions -- at gunpoint, if we have to."
"Won't be necessary, Sarge," said another voice. "I
think I can speed up this procedure."
Sergeant Donovan looked over where Corporal Leigh was
herding in two girls. One, and docile, went where he told
her to. The other was an angry teen who only went with him
because he held a belt that throttled her neck.
"Tanya!" King said, "C'mere darling. Get away from him!"
The quiet started to take a step to her father, but
stopped at a soft word from Leigh, "Bang." She hung her head and
looked away from her dad.
"Damn you," King said. "What are you doing with her? And
that's my niece, Carol!"
"Yes, Corporal," Donovan said, "what are you doing?"
Steven Leigh handed the teen's leash to a Private, and
went to speak quietly with the Sergeant. "I've thought of a
better way than just shooting them and starting over. Let me wing
this, and he'll fall all over himself to give us what we ask for."
Brad narrowed his eyes, but then he nodded. "Do it."
The Corporal turned to the frantic father, who was being
held back only by machine gun barrels. "Mr. King," Steve said.
"These two lovely will be giving some 'hospitality' to
a few of the Country's finest. Once you've provided everything on
the list in acceptable quality, they will be released.
His cold smile sent shivers down Donovan's spine. "I hope
you take longer than 30 minutes, 'Dad'. That's about my minimum
for a good solid fuck!" The younger shuddered.
"You monster!" Tom King shouted. "Let them go!"
Steve looked at his watch, and handed the a large
tube of KY jelly from his pocket. "Time is counting down, Mr.
King, but if you stick around for about 5 minutes, you should be
able to hear your daughter's virgin scream."
King moaned in frustration. Donovan told the B squad to
guard the Town Council's outer doors, and led A squad into the
inner Council room with the girls. As they closed the doors, he
said, "You're a sick sonofabitch, Steve."
"Better believe it, Sarge," Leigh said. "Better to pop
their cherries than for us to face a fuckin' firing squad. You
joining us?"
"No, Corporal," Donovan said. "I'm Christian, and that
would be a sin. But I'll stay, to make sure you're not getting
too rough."
"You like to watch, Sarge?" Leigh said. "I never would
have guessed. C'mon boys, let's have some pussy."
Some of the hesitated, and Donovan assured them,
"Don't worry. Corporal Mac knows if one squad gets something
extra, the other will get their turn next time."
The were stripped, and laid back on the tables.
Nylon ropes secure them, while the soldiers ditched their ragged
uniforms. The Corporal stated smearing the KY over the pink lower
lips of the younger girl, who was maybe 14. Then his slick hand
started sensuously rubbing his stiff meat. Tanya watched him like
a bird watches a snake. When he finished, his cock strained
upward against his belly, leaking precum.
Leigh climbed between her legs, smiling. He pushed his
hard cock down, so it dragged through her sparse bush. She
shrieked a little at the touch of his hot flesh, then gasped as he
started rubbing it steadily across her little clit. He kept up
the steady rubbing until her entrance wet slightly.
He began pushing his rigid cock lower. Deep between her
cunt lips it slid, until his head found her slot and began to push
inside. She started struggling uselessly at the merciless
pressure of the intruder within her innermost folds. His hips
slowly sank down as he pushed in, then stopped with a grin.
"I thought you were a virgin," he said. "Today, you're
gonna become a woman around the head of my cock!"
"Oh god no please," she babbled, "no don't, please!"
Donovan noticed his were jacking their meat, anxiously
waiting for their turns. His own cock ached as well, so calmly he
opened his trousers and began to rub his hard prick. The looked at him wide-eyed, because he easily had the biggest meat in
the room.
He looked over at the girl, where two buddies were
working on her together. She looked about 17, and one was eating
her pussy, while the other was kneading and slobbering on her
tits. "Look guys," the Sergeant said, "we don't know how long we
have here, so why don't you start teaming up on them?"
"Alright!" one of the younger said, and pushed over to
where the corporal was teasing Tanya's clit again. He grabbed a
handful of her small firm breast, and held his commando knife
across her throat, aiming his cock at her face. "Open up, pretty
thing, I want your mouth."
She moaned, "Don't me. Please! God, no..."
He pushed his dripping hardon against her mouth and
forced it open. He shifted the knife closer, "Don't you bite me,
bitch."
Leigh watched, and as the other entered her mouth, he
plunged fully into her virgin cunt. Her muffled scream of pain
made it easier for the soldier to push his dick in. Another began to work on her tits, while a forth put her unresisting hand
around his meat, so she pumped his meat with him.
On the other table, the buddies were sandwiching Carol.
The one under her eased her ass down on his greased cock.
His partner knelt straddling him, with his dick poised to jam in
her cunt. Two more were taking turns playing with her big and fucking her mouth.
Soon, every in the room had at least a girl's hand
wrapped around his cock, if not his cock in one or another.
All, that is, except the Sarge, who stood back and watched it all,
slowing beating his big cock.
The soldier with the knife groaned, grinding his pelvis in
Tanya's face, pumping his as deep as he could. As soon as he
stepped away, another put his cock into her mouth. Corporal
Leigh was still slowly fucking her. He had stamina, and the was struggling so delightfully under him.
He sped up his tempo a bit, and she gasped in pain,
wailing that he was killing her. "No, cunt. I'm fucking you.
There's a difference." She only moaned in response.
He began slamming her hard, as her mouth was invaded by
the third cock since her ordeal began. She was starting to learn
how to breath even with the men's penis jammed down her
throat. Leigh grabbed her hips and brutally rammed her, grunting
as he pushed all the way in, and pumped his deep inside.
One of the younger holding Tanya's hand around his
shaft bucked, as he shot his wad on top of her. Leigh still lay
on her, rocking his hips a little with his eyes closed. Someone
tapped his shoulder to cut in, and the Corporal snarled back at
him, making the soldier back up a step.
"Now, Corporal," Donovan said. "Remember, it was your
idea to share the girls, right? You've had a turn, move aside."
Leigh scowled, but he climbed down, and used the girl's
skirt to clean his pink-stained cock. Then he got dressed, and
sat near the door with his machine gun. He was done for the day,
and someone had to keep guard.
"Something wrong, Steve?" the Sergeant said, still
stroking himself.
Leigh answered without looking at him. "Like you, Sarge,
I got my standards. Me; I don't ever take sloppy seconds. Once
someone else gets her, I don't want her anymore."
"Your loss, Leigh," one of the others said, but the
Corporal only shrugged.
Donovan continued to stroke, wondering how things were
going outside.
Corporal Mac hadn't seen a civilian so eager to fulfill a
Military order in his whole career. King had made a flurry of
phone calls and sent his off with several messages. Quicker
than they'd been told was possible, the supplies started arriving.
He knew there would be a next time, so when the stuff
came, he took his time evaluating it. He wanted good quality, and
at the same time make sure the had lots of time to enjoy. He
rejected a quarter of the goods, making King practically scream at
him to get on with it.
Mac said, "We deserve only the best..." a scream of
passion from Carol interrupted him, "...which it seems they're
getting in there. Doesn't it make you proud, to know your is giving their all in the service of their country?" He gave a
wicked smile while the solemnly saluted the inner council
room.
"Mr. King, the longer you stand here and argue with me,
the longer this is going to take. He hooked his thumb to the
doors, "And that will take longer, also. So go ahead, man. Yell
at me. My buddies have been needing some fresh pussy."
The councilman looked apoplectic, but Mac cooly continued.
"Now, Mr. King, we don't have all the required blankets yet, nor
the clothing we need. I suggest you get busy calling some more."
In the inner room, the were slowing down. They'd all
had a turn or two at the girls, and some were dressing, as the
rest finished up.
Donovan was starting to sweat. He was starting to feel an
need to come, and that meant he should stop. Leigh smirked when
Sarge's mouth twisted, and the big slowed down his pumping.
"Ya know," the Corporal drawled, "it's a sin to waste it."
Donovan frowned at the pedophile. "I know. That's why
I'm stopping."
Leigh handed his gun to another, and went to Tanya. "I
think I know how you can get off, *and* avoid a sin," he said.
"What do you mean?" Donovan said.
"Fornification is a sin," Leigh said. "And so is wasting
your spunk. So why don't you point your canon over here at this
cunt, and on it. You haven't put it in her hole, but your
little can swim around in that swamp, and have as much a
chance as any of ours to knock her up. That wouldn't be wasting
it, would it?" Leigh spread her legs wide open, and gestured at
her sopping cleft.
The other said, "Right on, Sarge! Do it!"
"Don't tempt me, Corporal," Donovan said with a scowl.
"See anything wrong with my logic?" Leigh said.
"No, I don't," the Sergeant said. "I think you're right."
He went over to the girl, and began pumping in earnest, holding
his cock so his would pump onto her wet cunt. His fist flew
on his shaft, and with a grunt he shot on her. With careful aim,
he didn't lose a single to the floor. He sighed with
relief, and walked away, his conscience clean.
When A squad came out, Corporal Mac reported they had all
the supplies they had been sent for. Donovan nodded to the
distraught father, and told his to pick up the supplies and
head back to base.
This was the way the Rats became for always getting
the goods with their methods.
Robert was thoughtful as Tom King gave his report of the
incident concerning his daughter, along with heartfelt letters
describing dozens of similar events. The victims asked for the
Dark man's help, because as bad as he was personally, the common
folk of the Empire were better off than those suffering under the
tyranny of General Stark's 'protection'.
"Thank you, Councilman," Robert said. "I think that you
can expect an intervention in this matter, and soon. I can't give
you specifics, but my actions will be decisive."
"As soon as you can, sir," Mr. King answered. "We're
counting on you."
Operation: Ratcatcher was set for mid October, and with
the careful planning that had led up to it, the day of the mission
began flawlessly.
The six minor bases throughout the American North East
were each to be attacked by two Legion Divisions. The greater
numbers on the Empire's side were meant to overwhelm the
resistance and get things under control as quickly as possible.
The main target, however Stark's base at NORAD HQ, inside
Cheyenne Mountain, which would be the toughest nut to crack.
Accordingly, this strike force consisted of 3 full Divisions of
the best troops the Empire had, and the Power Team, accompanied by
Wolf, a part time member, and led by the Emperor himself.
At 05:00 CST on the 15th, all seven bases were struck
simultaneously. There was no way the enemy could support or even
warn each other, as each was soon fully engaged. The Legion had
more troops, but those that Stark had were more experienced, and
better trained with the larger weapons of war, like tanks and
artillery.
While the conventional forces squared off, Robert led Wolf
and the Power Team past the battle line and through the long
tunnel that ended at the massive doors that shut off the heavily
shielded installation inside.
The Dark gave them their final instructions. "Wolf,
you stay here with the Team, they'll need your help more than I
will." The shaggy nodded, and gave a nod to Teke, as well.
He'd already worked out with the Telekinetic who was in charge
between them.
"Teke," Robert continued, "I'm going on ahead to open the
way. The team will stay here to hold the access to the Mountain.
If the Legion wins decisively and reaches your position, go ahead
and come in after me. If the tide turns against us, lend a hand
and hit the enemy from the rear on your own judgement. Is that
understood?"
"Yeah, Chief," the said. "Go in there and stick
it to 'em. 'Hear?"
Robert nodded and turned to the great reinforced doors.
With a quick gesture they ripped open, causing some small tremors
on this part of the mountain. He flicked of his long blue cloak,
and disappeared inside the jagged rift. The sound of his mayhem
as he headed back down the tunnel soon faded, but the rumbling
tremors continued.
Charity, and the less combat oriented Team members stayed
in the entrance tunnel to get as much cover as possible. Lady Web
needed to stay as close to the entrance as possible, though, for
when she was needed. Her mind-linking gift only activated within
line-of-sight range, at present. It was too short a range for
Seeker to assist, and still stay at home. They had needed her,
though, and so she had come along.
A small shower of rocks alerted them that there was
trouble in the area. Seeker said, "Look out!" as a bunker opened
up on the mountain above them, and from it a dark tank emerged,
blowing loose dirt around it in a wind blast as it _floated_ out
of the entrance.
The powerful fans on the smooth trackless bottom of the
tank angled aftwards, and the armored vehicle began to slide down
the slope towards them like a stick of butter on the off-ramp to
Hell. Two armored appeared at the bunker entrance, and they
began leaping down to either side of the tank as if they only
felt the Moon's gravity. Both the hover-tank and the power suits
were dark colored, with bright green 51's painted on them.
"Lady Web!" Teke shouted, "link us up!" They blinked as
the connecting Web surrounded their minds, and gave them instant
communication with each other. Sapphire and Osprey, the two
flyers in the group, started getting altitude, while Warp ducked
down and checked his supply of packet bombs. Wolf stood his
ground, with the great battleaxe Robert had made for him held
ready.
When the tank hit the bottom of the slope, the team had
already moved. The tank slowed as it reached the level, and it
appeared to plant in one spot and swivel it's main gun around in
an attempt to cover the ground based targets that were in the
area.
It's movements were jerky and unsure, and Charity reported
that the tank crew and the suited lacked confidence in their
equipment, and were nervous. Teke began to take advantage of the
information, by giving hard randomly directed shoves against the
big machine.
The crew tried to recover Turbine control and aim the guns
despite the unexpected jolts. The armored headed down to take
their defensive positions by the tank, when Warp popped in and out
around it, slapping on a dozen stick-on bombs, including a big one
shoved inside the turret's main barrel.
"What are the fuses set for?" Teke yelled at Warp, as he
threw up a PK shield against a spray of machine-gun fire.
"Ninety seconds, boss!" Tim called. I wanted it to be
soon, but still give us time to get outta the way."
"Good thinking," the said. "Look, our flyers
will handle the jumpin' beans coming down the hill. I gotta keep
pushing this thing around, so they stay off balance. You and Wolf
need to give them something to focus on. Are you two up to it?
It's dangerous."
"I *like* danger," the wolfman grinned, lifting his axe.
"Like they even have a chance at targeting me!" the teen
sneered confidently.
"Okay then," Teke said. "Keep 'em hopping boys!" Wolf
and Warp led the tank away from the mountain, and away from the
power suits racing to re-enforce it.
The tank's crew desperately tried to get a bead on
*someone*, as they were thrust around inside their metal shell by
a few tons of telekinetic force. From one side or the other, from
above or below; they could never predict where the lurch was
coming from next. All the while, timers counted down on the bombs
stuck onto the tank's exterior.
Tim started counting down the last few seconds through the
Web, "Five, four, three, two, one!"
BOOM! The tank was rocked again, then suddenly it fell
the two feet that it hovered above the ground, the main barrel
bent and useless.
Teke waited, but the tank stayed silent. He levitated
himself and Wolf to the hatch to greet the crew when they came
crawling out.
The armored had nearly made it to the tank when the
flyers came back down. With a piercing whoop, Osprey stooped on
one of them, ruddy phantom wings folded close. Her specialized
telekinesis assisted her clawed gloves to clamp on the back of the
suit. She fought to pull him up as high as she could before he
could get a weapon aimed at her. Twenty feet, thirty, forty and
climbing steadily, she continued to rise with her prey.
Sapphire had been charging his power beam the whole time
that they'd climbed. When they had dived at the power suits, he
had cut lose with as strong a blast as he'd ever fired, right at
his target's chest. The bright blue shaft dazzled his eyes, and
he skimmed by fast over the head of his target, wincing as he
expected to hear the sound of gunfire, or worse.
When he spun to look behind him, all he saw was some
drifting dust where the soldier had stood. He made a double loop
in mid air to get a closer look, using the gradually fading blue
sparkles that trailed after him to give himself some partial cover
from any assault. The armored had been driven a foot or two
into the mountainside, smoking. The soldier twitched feebly,
obviously stunned. Ali turned to assist his partner.
Osprey had her target half a football field up in the air,
and was aiming for an especially rocky area. Sapphire showed off
his speed and maneuverability by flying behind her, and
occasionally looping in front of them to tease the guy into
shooting at him.
"What are you going to do with him?" the Middle-Easterner
asked.
"I don't know, yet," Karen said. "He's not a turtle or a
walnut, but do you think his shell will crack if I drop him?"
"Maybe," Ali said. "But you're only fifty yards up. You
might want to try a hundred yards before you let him go. Or even
a half a mile." He grinned at her, knowing their conversation was
for the benefit of the prisoner.
"Oh God, don't," the begged. "I surrender. I can't
take a fall like that. Not in this untested, "New Technology"
piece of shit...!"
"We accept your surrender," Osprey said, "but take off
your helmet first."
"Why?" the soldier said, lifting his headgear.
"So it will be far more certain that you'll die, if I have
to drop you because you cross us, you imperialist swine." The
guy's hands froze. "Do it!" she snapped. He did.
"Say," Ali said, "wouldn't *we* be the Imperialists?
After all..."
"Oh, shut up, Sapphire," Karen said, giving him a
disgusted look as they flew downward.
Robert hadn't expected to face much pitched resistance to
his penetration of the Mountain, but he was finding that people
were hiding from him. It wasn't helping, of course, he could
sense them through the walls, but he didn't really care. He
wanted General Stark, and found him in the big Operations room,
that resembled scenes in like Wargames.
Just at the entrance were two close ranks of soldiers who
were determined to kill the intruder, or die. Robert didn't like
either of the choices, so he put them into a deep, coma-like
sleep. The only time he'd killed lately, was when he was taken by
surprise. Robert came fully into the room, and saw the General's
iron-grey hair had gone completely white. The officers and
soldiers manning the consoles looked nervous at his appearance.
"Hold it right there, you perverted freak," the General
ordered him. Robert wanted to know what the had to say, so he
stayed where he was. The General laughed harshly, "Well, I've got
you now, Black, and this is MY palace, so I call the shots. I'm
going to take down your little empire, just as my are taking
out your pathetic 'Legions'.
Robert didn't bother to correct the General, but the facts
were that the commander of Stark's forces outside had just
capitulated, and the Power Team had the "Special Weapons" unit
well in hand.
"See all those lights up there?" Stark asked him. "They
represent multiple warhead nuclear missiles, waiting to be fired
at my command. The majority of them are aimed at that so-called
Palace of yours, but at least three are pointed at each of your
Black Towers. With a press of this button, I will take out your
precious "Empire", and make your home into a crater."
"Go ahead and press it," Robert said casually. The
men in the room looked at him with surprise.
"And don't think your begging will stop me either, Black,"
the madman babbled, not hearing what Robert was really saying.
"Even if you crawled and kissed my feet, I'd still do it. It's my
duty as an American to wipe your obscenity off the map."
"I didn't know you had a shoe-fetish, General," Robert
said. A few smothered snickers were heard in the room. He
raised his voice, "I said, 'Go ahead and launch'. I don't care.
Jenners told me about your plan months ago, and I've disabled your
toys. They won't launch."
"You're lying! You couldn't! It isn't possible!" the
General screamed. "I'll call your bluff right now!" His finger
stabbed the flashing switch to launch the armed missiles, then he
turned to gloat at Robert.
Robert calmly watched the man's manic expression as the
General described, in lurid detail, the devastation that was even
now hurtling to obliterate Robert's cesspool of sin.
He was literally drooling when one of his officers tried
to get his attention, "General... Sir... General!"
"What do you want!" Stark shrieked at him.
The Colonel flinched. "They didn't launch! We've got
errors across the board. Not a single base has confirmed a
launch. It's over."
"Why didn't they launch?" the General demanded shrilly,
grabbing the Colonel's front.
"We don't know yet, sir," the Colonel said as the General
shook him in rage. The younger grabbed the General's wrists
and held him still. We've got technical crews looking into it."
"We've got a report," someone yelled across the room.
"Put it on the speakers," the Colonel said, as he released
the General, and pushed him away.
"The fuel tanks are full," a said over the loud
speaker. "So why the hell...?" he muttered. A clattering noise
was heard. "Well, fuck me. I don't believe it. The engine
housing is *empty*. There's no fucking motor in this thing. This
missile isn't going anywhere... I don't have any spares."
"There's no warheads in the nose cones, either, General,"
Robert said. "Your is right. It's over."
"Never!" the General shouted, spittle flying. He drew his
pistol, and started firing at the Dark man. Robert thoughtfully
kept the bullets from ricocheting. The General put another clip
in his gun, and kept firing, but Robert just stood there. "You're
a dead man," the General laughed. "I killed you. I saved the
Nation!" He swaggered over to where his imagination showed him
Robert's bleeding corpse.
"And you are mad," Robert said. "And you will always be a
threat to those around you. It ends now." With a sudden move, he
shoved the blunt head of the black Rod into the General's gut, and
made the darkness flare. When the room's light tentatively crept
back to the vicinity of the Emperor, he stood alone, except for a
pile of ash and char at his feet.
"You are all my prisoners," he said to the in the
room. "And will be tried for whatever crimes and atrocities you
may have committed." He turned to the Imperial forces that were
entering the room. "Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain!" he said.
Later, the Operations room was empty, save for Robert. He
was playing with the displays, and fiddled until he got a screen
that pleased him. "It's time for another step outward," he mused.
The display highlighted the American Northern States above
the Mason-Dixon line, plus Missouri, from the Atlantic Ocean to
the Rockies, that were now under his control. Nearly half the
Nation, or 24 States were soon to be in his Empire, in addition to
the six Canadian Provinces bordering those states.
Yes, that would be fine. It was time to consolidate for
now. After awhile, when he was comfortable again, it would be
time to plan and grow once more.
February, 1998 - Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 11 of 20.
Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.
Archived @ "ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/World_of_the_Darkside";
Or www.asstr.org/~World_of_the_Darkside & www.greyarchive.com.
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