The military forces advanced into the capitol with swift accuracy. Teams of soldiers moved in hurried motion through the city like swarms of bees. GPU forces took up arms in retaliation. Groups of GPU officers banded together but their semi-automatic rifles were no match against the overwhelming number of soldiers and did nothing to penetrate the armor of the tanks that rolled down the streets in a loud veracity of power. Rapid gunshots rang out as fires blazed and the earth roared beneath the tanks as they moved.
As the troops drew near, surrounding the capitol, the GPU made one last stand against them. They returned fire against the onslaught but their marksmanship was no match for the accuracy and well-trained soldier that stood against them. Many of the GPU were confused as to what they were trying to save. The North American territory leader was dead and they weren’t trained to fight wars. They were trained to interrogate unarmed citizens and patrol the streets but they found themselves locked in a battle they couldn’t win.
While some gave up without firing a shot, others watched as their comrades were picked off one-by-one like sitting targets. The cries of dying men melted in the air of gunfire and smoke. Sulfur carried on the winds with the promise of death for those still clinging to their rifles. Blood and the bodies of GPU officers dotted the lawn of the capitol. Bullet holes penetrated the robust walls. As the soldiers squeezed and tightened the line to eliminate the last of the GPU, more emerged from their positions behind the capitol walls with their arms up and rifles on the ground.
Within hours, the overwhelmed GPU forces laid down their weapons and the fighting was over. The casualties amounted to the GPU only. Power was seized by the uprising and the new establishment moved in to take control. Anticipation and fear mixed in the minds of the people as everyone wondered what this new government will be like. For 144 years, the people knew nothing other than the tyrannical rule of the Falcon Faction. Today it was changing.
The army stormed into the capitol, clearing each room and each floor. Cabinet officials and governmental bureaucrats were handcuffed and taken prisoner including the GPU that were still alive. Their fates would be sorted out by the new court-of-law as they were transported to holding cells of the Foray Prison, a prison full of anti-Falconal prisoners. With the capitol cleared and occupied by the army, it was time to move into phase 3.
“Can you taste the freedom, my friend?” Mr. Maple asked as he stood on the steps of the capitol. He wore a long black wool coat over his black suit and paired it with a top hat.
General Graham, who stood next to him in his dress uniform of military glory, looked around at the dead bodies, blood, and aftermath of the battle that took place there the day before. “Not really, I taste death. Death is what’s in the air.”
Mr. Maple grinned, “we’ll have this cleaned up in no time but first, we must prepare the new government.”
They entered the capitol building as others started to arrive, the other 30 men responsible for the uprising movement. A small plane went by overhead as they entered and white sheets of paper started to fall from it. The papers danced in the air in a frantic sway as they tumbled down to finally lay on the ground. The sheets were another installment of The Maverick and declared a time of peace and freedom. It outlined the incoming regime and the role the new government would play.
The men gathered in the great hall and took their seats. Mr. Maple started to speak, “today is a glorious day for us all but it is not over because we won. The battle could very well become a war against the Falconal elite and there’s no doubt in my mind that they know now what has happened. We must waste no time, gentlemen. General Graham will embark on a campaign of enlistment for any eligible man or woman wishing to fight for their new country. Meanwhile, we must secure the new government so with that, let us declare our new leader.”
Each man cast a vote into a jar. For the first time in 144 years, a vote was being held to select a leader. At the end, the vote was tallied and the winner declared - Mr. Andrew Carmichael. The tall, average weight man with peppered black and silver hair stood up as Mr. Maple called him to the front. The men clapped and cheered for Carmichael was known as a brilliant strategist. He was possibly the most well known throughout the territory as he often was interviewed by the news outlets for various projects and contributions to society. He said a few words of gratitude in his brawny bass toned voice before insisting they continue with the government appointments.
While the meeting continued behind closed doors, Will arrived with a crew of news reporters behind him. They took residence in the hall while they waited for the meeting to continue. By the time they arrived, little evidence remained of the battle that took place there. The blood had been washed away from the walls and rinsed from the grass. The bodies were carried away for burial by the soldiers who still stood guard around the capitol.
When the meeting adjourned, the press filed in. They wanted to interview the new ‘President’ and were eager to learn where their country was now headed. They’ve all seen the flyers but there were many questions lingering in the air. Mr. Proper stood next to Mr. Maple towards the back of the room. They were the only two men who didn’t take government positions. For Mr. Proper, his choice was clear - someone had to keep the Portalis Minor safe and secret. For Mr. Maple, the choice was different.
“One could say that this was all your doing.” Mr. Proper said quietly in his tenor southern voice. “You brought us all together in this orchestrated effort to secure freedom yet the world will never know.”
Mr. Maple looked over at him, the wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes as he smiled, “do they need to know? I am just a man with the same dream, that’s all.”
“Same, indeed but the truth still stands. It was you who started it all.”
“You know, Mr. Proper, had you never brought that first Bible to me, if you had never traveled back in the name of the Falconal, I would never be where I am now. Your opportunist offer of obtaining the most coveted of artifacts is what changed my mind. I know you were doing it for your own benefit, selling those things on the black market but that Bible changed me and made me see a new world, the way it should be.”
“Well there’s plenty more where that came from.” Mr. Proper stated, “but now we can produce our own. That and many other volumes of our choosing.”
“Indeed.” Mr. Maple said. He shook his head and smiled. He let out a sigh and said, “we did it. from sea to sea, North America in its entirety. It belongs to the people now.”
Mr. Proper nodded, “so what is next on your agenda? If you’re not taking a government post, what are your plans?”
Mr. Maple considered the question and said, “I am a nationalist, nothing more but nothing less. However I hear we’ve obtained a number of Christian time tourists who will need the funding for churches. Perhaps my assistance is needed there.”
The cargo of the train had long been emptied. In fact the train had gone just the day before. Darius completed his own circulation of The Independent Nation of which was to be distributed around New York - where it was originally provided. This time he wrote about hope and included a few passages from the Bible that invoked the prospect of a new democracy, freedom of religion, and God. The road ahead would be long and full of obstacles but he was optimistic that the people would strive for the promises that freedom brought.
He had read most of the New Testament and reflected on Jesus, the most unwavering character he had ever read about or met. He thought that most people would have crumbled, conformed, or died out of the existence of memory yet the story of Jesus lived on. He understood now why Mr. Maple was so persistent about the Bible and its importance. It wasn’t just a book about an epic fantasy or a set of mythical lore and fables. It was the ultimate love story between God and people, the Creator and His creation.
He sat outside the bed and breakfast drinking a cup of coffee in the late morning. The sun was shining bright and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He could faintly feel the heat on his face but it was still too cold outside to not wear a jacket. Over the last week he’d fixed the leaking faucet in the kitchen, helped ##### with dusting the high ceilings, fixed the washer, fixed the chicken coop fencing, and helped prepare the vegetable garden for planting. As he sat, Kelvin came walking up the street and greeted him.
“Good morning.” He said.
“Morning.” Darius replied, “it’s actually nice today.”
“Yeah it is. I wanted to come by and tell you that I’m on my way out. All the pastors and priests are being summoned to New York.”
“Really? When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow morning. There’s room in the van if you want to come. We could use your help when we start the churches. If you’re interested, that is.”
Darius took the last sip of coffee from his cup and set it down, “yeah, actually I am.”