Greenies

schematic of the building and the location of all the friendly forces. There were more than eighty police officers, not including the SWAT team, now deployed around the building. That was still somewhat less than the 120 to 150 MPG troops that were rumored to be inside the capital. And the MPG were better trained and better equipped as well. No, even if she did feel that a crime of some type had been committed, something that she had serious doubts about, she never would have ordered her forces to go head to head with those kind of numbers.

'Priority communication from Deputy Chief Winston,' her terminal suddenly spoke up. 'Would you like to answer?'

'On screen,' she told it.

The screen flashed briefly over to the communications software main screen and then was just as quickly replaced by the middle-aged face of Winston, a twenty-two year veteran and, until the Laura Whiting reforms had taken place, one of the brownest nosed people that the department employed. 'Bongwater,' he said. 'Are you with any FLEB people right now?'

'No,' she told her. 'My friend Waxford has gone off to stew somewhere. What's up? Any news?'

'Big news,' Winston told her. 'Direct from Chief Sandoza himself.'

He began to speak, giving a series of orders. Bongwater smiled in satisfaction as she heard them. 'I'm happy to comply,' she said. 'Thanks, chief.'

'My pleasure,' Winston said and signed off.

Duran looked over to the crowd of FLEB agents and got Waxford's attention. He came trotting over.

'What is it?' he asked, seeing the smile on her face and assuming it was good news for his team. 'Did Jackson decide to give up?'

'No, even better news than that,' she said. 'We're pulling out. You're now on your own.'

He looked at her, confused. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean I've just received orders to cease cooperation with the FLEB. I'm pulling my cops out of here and breaking down the perimeter.'

'You can't do that!' he yelled loud enough for everyone within thirty meters to hear.

'I can and I will,' she said. 'Direct orders from Chief Sandoza. Pull back and resume routine duties. Do not interfere with operations at the capital and do not respond to any calls for assistance from FLEB personnel. You're gonna have to take this building by yourself.'

Veins began to poke out on Waxford's head as he heard this. 'What kind of shit is...'

'It's the kind of shit that's a direct order from the Chief,' Bongwater told him calmly. 'And it's an order I'm happy to obey. Have fun fighting your way in, Waxford.'

'I have federal authority,' he told her. 'I demand you follow my orders! If you don't, you'll stand trial in federal court for...'

'You have no authority over me or my people,' she said. 'This is a federal matter and we're local law enforcement. Cooperation with the feds is simply a courtesy and it's just been revoked.' She turned to her Internet terminal. 'Command channel.'

'Command channel activated.' The computer replied.

'This is Lieutenant Bongwater,' she said. 'All New Pittsburgh Police Department personnel on the capital building perimeter will immediately demobilize on orders from Chief Sandoza. Return to previous patrol assignments. SWAT personnel return to training stations. No further assistance will be given to federal personnel including calls for assistance in the future. All members of the force that are MPG members are hereby released from duty to respond to their military assignments. I repeat, all New Pittsburgh Police Department personnel...

In the governor's office Jackson turned to Laura. 'All NPPD personnel have pulled back and returned to their routine duties. All we have out front now in terms of opposition are about forty FLEB people, damn near the entire compliment for New Pittsburgh'

Laura sighed in relief. 'Thank you Chief Sandoza,' she proclaimed. 'That certainly makes this next step a little easier, doesn't it?'

'Indeed,' he replied, raising his pocket computer to his face. 'Get me Major Dealerman.'

The 2^nd Battalion of the 8^th armored infantry regiment had been called up as part of the initial preliminary forces the day before. Major Dealerman had been initially very confused by the 'special training' order that had brought him and the 836 troops under his command to the base in the middle of a weekday, both because he knew that special training of that sort was unheard of and because only his battalion had been requested. Upon arrival at the base however, he had been briefed in by General Jackson himself over a secure Internet line and told the real reason for the call-up.

'The feds have a warrant for Governor Whiting's arrest,' he'd been told. 'They're going to try to take her into custody tomorrow morning.'

Dealerman had of course been shocked by this news and more than a little outraged as well, but he'd still had no idea what that had to do with he and his battalion. He'd said as much and Jackson had then laid the biggest shock of his life upon him.

'We're going to fight them,' Jackson said. 'The security force at the capital building is going to capture the agents that arrive to arrest her. They're capable of securing the building itself and preventing her arrest, but we're going to need additional troops to secure the outside and the surrounding blocks.'

'You're ordering me to do this?' he'd asked, just for clarity. 'To engage WestHem federal officers?'

'I'm asking you to do this,' Jackson had corrected. 'The MPG is a volunteer outfit. If you don't want to do it, we'll find someone else. The same applies to your men. If you accept this assignment, I expect you to brief your command in advance and give all of them the opportunity to decline.'

'I understand,' he'd said.

'Then you'll do it?'

'I'll do it,' he'd said without hesitation. 'Tell me the plan.'

The plan had started the night before with the briefing by Dealerman. He had been honest with his men about the ramifications of their actions and, unsurprisingly, not a single member of the 1^st of the 6^th had elected to forgo participation. They were ready to do or die for Mars.

Charlie company had been separated out the night before for a couple of different tasks that had to do with the capital itself. Two of the platoons had been moved to the capital in the early morning hours and placed under Warren's command. It was they that had hidden in adjoining buildings and taken the outside FLEB agents. The other half of this company was performing its mission now. Since 0700 the eighty men that consisted of third and fourth platoon had been mounted in their APCs awaiting their movement orders. These orders had come and the movement was now under way.

The column of eight APCs clunked noisily through the streets of Eden, working their way towards downtown, their treads riding over a surface that they were never meant to be upon. Pedestrians, many of whom had no idea what was going on, scrambled to make way for the monstrous machines as they passed, staring in confused awe at the heavy weapons and the helmeted, goggled heads of the commanders. The ground rumbled beneath and long after the armor had passed the vibration and noise could still be heard and felt.

Lieutenant Presley, a ten-year member of the MPG infantry, was sitting in the commander's seat in the third APC from the front, far enough forward that he could see what was going on, but far enough back so he wouldn't be easily identified and taken out by the opposition. Not that the opposition in this case had much of a chance at that. He kept his hand resting upon the butt of the 4mm machine gun mounted just outside of his port and his eyes upon the tactical display that showing through his combat goggles.

'Presley,' a voice said in his earpiece, which was tuned to the command channel. 'Dealerman here. Do you copy?'

'Go ahead, Major,' Presley replied.

'I just got word from Jackson,' Dealerman told him. 'The New Pittsburgh Police Department have pulled back. Opposition is now only about forty feds equipped with light weapons. Move in and secure a perimeter for two blocks around the capital building, including the two tram stations. Hold until relieved or ordered to withdraw. Weapons free but a little tight. Don't smoke them unless they ask for it.'

'Yes sir,' Presley told him without hesitation. He was a building maintenance technician in his civilian life and had spent his entire working career being looked down upon by rich corporate Earthlings in the Kendall-Brackely building. He was ready and willing to take the planet away from such people and proud to be involved in the first