A state of disobedience

'This is Lieutenant Colonel Paul Grayson—my friends call me 'Pablo,' 182 Fighter Squadron out o' Lackland. And—unless either or both you gentlemen want a Sidewinder up yo' ass—then, you suhs, are mah prisoners.'

Beason and Sperry did some quick calculation, oh, very quick. They were fast, tough, hard, wiry, smart and not a little brave, too. The 182, however, was not only composed of instructor pilots—but its pilots were equally fast, tough, hard, wiry, smart and not a little brave . . . and experienced.

'Ah, what the hell, Mike,' said Beason. 'I'm a Yankee boy who's been claiming Texas as his state of residence for about eight years now. I think we have just been captured.'

To Grayson he said, 'And, Colonel, I appreciate your restraint.'

Another previously unheard voice, this one from the helicopter, quite warmly female if a bit strained and shaky, said, 'Welcome home, boys.'

* * *

Denton, Texas

'What I want from you, Colonel, is a restrained response.'

'Restrained, sir? We're a heavy battalion. That's not very 'restrained,' just in the nature of things.'

'Nonetheless, that's what I want. At the first sign of a federal move near or behind you, drop the bridges and run back to the next set. Fight only as a last resort . . . though you can—and I want you to—make them think you are going to fight if you can figure out how to do that.'

'Warning shots?'

'Maybe . . . with care . . . if they push too hard. But if you must fire, fire to frighten, not to kill or wound.'

'That's one tall goddamned order, general, if you don't mind my saying so.'

'There are people who are going to risk as much, colonel, and they won't have tanks to fall back on.'

* * *

Las Cruces, New Mexico

The legislature had voted, the people had assembled, the busses had come and gone.

New Mexico was not quite yet ready to join Texas' protest in the way Texas was protesting. Neither was it ready to leave a neighbor in the lurch. 'You just don't do that, in the American southwest; you pitch in and help.' That was what Governor Garrison had told the Legislature before they voted.

What had they voted for, then? They voted to pay for transportation and food, to pay for their own national guard to set up tents for, and to provide food and water for anyone willing to go to the Army and Marine Corps assembly areas near Las Cruces to protest the coming invasion of Texas. They also cast a vote for the First Amendment, especially with regards to the news media. Lastly, New Mexico had voted to send the bulk of its own national guard, one very fine brigade—the 'best by test' in any component of the U.S. Armed Services—of air defense artillery to join Texas' Forty-ninth Armored Division, along with the state's other combat support unit, a battalion of six-inch self-propelled guns.

And as the Air Defense Brigade and artillery had gone, so, answering a freed, and more than a little annoyed, news media, the people had come. Not so many, of course, in any objective sense; New Mexico was not a populous state. Yet there were enough. From Lordburg, from Deming, from Alamogordo and Albuquerque, from Socorro and Santa Fe, they came. They came in numbers enough to block the highways through Las Cruces; to block the flow of fuel and parts and ammunition to the cavalrymen and marines rotting in dusty tent cities between Las Cruces and El Paso.

And those people sat on the roads and would not move.

Normally, of course, the armed forces would have called on the local police authorities to disperse the protesters.

'That's not going to work here,' muttered the commander of the Marines. 'I don't even want to ask. Hell, the State Police are out there with the protesters, keeping order.'

'We could clear them out ourselves, sir,' answered an aide. 'Or tell the Army to do it.'

'No, Johnny. The cavalry colonel has already told me, in so many words, 'Don't ask.' And I don't know what we'll do if the police and the guard open fire. Then too, what will those Texas boys at El Paso do if it does turn nasty?'

'No,' the marine sighed. 'No. We'll buck this one up to higher.'

* * *

Washington, DC

'It's spreading,' said McCreavy, simply, to Rottemeyer.

'What's spreading?' asked the President.

'The 'Rebellion,' if you want to call it a rebellion.'

Rottemeyer forced a calm into her voice she didn't quite feel, suppressing a shudder in her stomach she very much felt. 'What now?'

'New Mexico. The Army and Marine force there is cut off from supply by protesters. The government down there is supporting the protesters, supporting them strongly.'

'Define 'strongly.' '

'Transportation. Supply. Housing . . . of a sort. Police protection.' McCreavy hesitated slightly, then added, 'Military protection, too, though they have ordered most of what they had to Texas.'