conflict. He switched to the tactical channel he used to command his men. 'All right, guys,' he told them. 'NPPD has pulled back. All we have opposing us at the objective are about forty feds with light weapons. We're going to secure a radius of two blocks centered on the capital. Fourth platoon, break off at 23rd street and maneuver around to the south side. Come back down to 5th at 18th street. We'll hold back over here and then box them in when you're in position. ROE is weapons free but a little tight.'
'Copy that,' said Lieutenant Carmichael, commander of that platoon. 'Let's go kick some fed ass.'
The FLEB agents had redeployed their vans to the corners of the building and were using it as cover to watch the building from. Others were crouched behind the decorative planters that lined the middle of the street, their faces scared, their weapons trembling in their hands. Waxford, hiding behind the furthest van from the front of the building, was on the communications channel talking to a shocked and horrified Corban Hayes back at the main FLEB building. He had just given a report on the unbelievable events and they were still trying to figure out what there next move should be.
'We only have twenty more sworn agents in New Pittsburgh,' Hayes told him. 'That's not even enough to provide security for our own building, let alone take the capital building and free our captured men.'
'How about the other cities?' Waxford asked. 'We almost a hundred agents up on Triad. How soon can you get them on a surface to orbit and get them down here?'
'Not for at least three hours,' Hayes replied. 'I'll get them started though and I'll have fifty from Eden and Proctor get on one of the inter-city trains.'
'Jesus, what a fuck-up,' Waxford almost cried. 'I knew we should have sent more agents for this arrest.'
'They'll regret this sorely,' Hayes assured him. 'Have your men hold the perimeter until reinforcements arrive. Shoot anyone who tries to come out of that building. I'll try to call that prick Sandoza back and threaten him with some more federal statutes. Maybe I can get him to send those greenie cops back to help end this thing. If we shut off power and utilities to that building we can flush them out in a matter of hours.'
'What about the MPG call up?' he asked. 'What's the deal with that?'
'We've been hearing that over here as well,' Hayes said. 'I don't know what that's all about or if it's related. I've got Benson over at the Eden office looking into that one. It's probably just some sort of false alarm or a training mission.'
At that moment the clanking of treads reached Waxford's ears for the first time. It swelled up from the north and the south simultaneously and grew louder by the second. The agents in their position all began to look around, searching out the source.
'Waxford,' Hayes said, noticing that his underling seemed suddenly preoccupied. 'What's going on? Are they trying to break out?'
'We have armored vehicles moving our way,' he said softly, feeling fear gripping him.
'What?'
'A lot of them,' he said. 'Coming from both directions.'
'Armored vehicles?' Hayes demanded. 'What kind of armored vehicles? Tanks, APCs, what? Those things can't move inside of the city!''
'You might want to tell them that,' Waxford said as the first of them came into view from around the corner three blocks away. Three others followed it. From the other direction, behind him, four more appeared. He recognized them as WestHem ET-40 armored personnel carriers. They were painted in the shades of red camouflage scheme and the Martian flag flew proudly from the communications antennas of each one. They spread out of their formation almost as soon as they became visible and took up positions on adjacent corners, hiding the bulk of their bodies behind the corner of buildings, their sixty-millimeter guns as well as their twenty millimeters pointing directly at the FLEB positions.
'Waxford!' Hayes yelled. 'What the hell is going on?'
'I don't think that the MPG call-up was a coincidence,' Waxford said softly.
As the terrified FLEB agents watched in horror, the ramps of the APCs swung open and out climbed heavily armed troops who immediately fanned out and took up firing positions, each squad of ten equipped with a light machine gun, three grenade launchers, and ten rifles. Weapons were trained upon them and they felt themselves start to sweat, could almost feel the targeting recticles from the MPG combat computers resting upon their foreheads.
Waxford, as leader of the FLEB agents, was perhaps the most horrified. He did not know what to do. In all of his training and experience he'd never been faced with a problem like this before. He'd never even conceived of such a thing. He was a federal officer! People were supposed to fear and respect him! There weren't supposed to surround him with armored vehicles and automatic weapons!
His Internet screen lit up before him, showing him the face of a greenie in combat goggles and a helmet. 'Agent Waxford,' the greenie addressed him politely. 'I am Lieutenant Presley of the Martian Planetary Guard. Can you hear me?'
Waxford stared at the screen, wondering how the greenies had gotten access to his terminal. The communications frequency that they were using was supposed to be secure. It occurred to him for the first time that maybe they had been underestimating the greenies a little bit. 'Yes,' he finally replied.
'You are surrounded by two platoons of MPG troops with light and heavy weapons. You do not have a chance of defeating them. You will order your men to disable all of their weapons and then walk to the center of the street and drop them in a pile. They will then lie down and await being taken into custody. This is your first and final offer. If you do not do as I say in the next sixty seconds, our troops will open fire upon you and move in. I will reiterate the fact that you do not have a chance of defeating them. Do you understand me, Agent Waxford?'
He licked his lips nervously, his body trembling with adrenaline as he surveyed the massive firepower that was arrayed against him and his men.
'Agent Waxford,' Presley said firmly. 'Do you understand my conditions?'
'I do,' Waxford said, near tears. 'We will do as you ask.'
'You have fifty seconds.'
Waxford issued the order. 'All FLEB agents. We have been betrayed and we are in the face of overwhelming opposition. Disable your weapons immediately and take them to the middle of the street. Drop them there and then lie down. Do this now or we will be fired upon. We will be taken into custody by the greenies. God help us all but there will be a reckoning for them and there will be justice.'
One by one the agents did as they were told. Waxford waited until all of them were prone on the street and then he too disabled his weapons and joined them. He was crying with humiliation and rage as he lay on his stomach.
Since very few Martians were actually watching the big three channels, most of them missed the live shots of the capture of the first elements. But word and rumor traveled fast and within twenty minutes of the first shots being fired nearly everyone on the planet had tuned in and was watching the subsequent events unfold live and in surround sound. MarsGroup quickly sent its own reporters to the scene and by the time that the New Pittsburgh Police Department members pulled out of the perimeter the Martians were able to switch to those channels and therefore not have to listen to the syrupy commentary about the poor FLEB agents and the evil acts that had been committed by the rogue governor.
For the most part the emotion the Martians displayed was one of shock and anger at what was going on. They were shocked that the feds and the WestHem corporations would attempt such a blatantly obvious scheme to rid themselves of Whiting and angry that they thought they would be allowed to get away with it quietly. Most Martians cheered when the final confrontation took place between the newly activated MPG units and the handful of feds that had been left to guard the building on their own. Once the feds were led away in handcuffs, hustled inside the buildings to join their companions, the big three reporters began focusing on how the 'hostage crisis' (as they called it) was going to be resolved. Some suggested that the marines from the Eden barracks would be activated and used to liberate the building, others suggested a mass gathering of the remaining federal agents on the planet. None of them entertained the thought that Laura Whiting would not be eventually taken into custody for her crimes. The very idea was inconceivable to them. The big three completely ignored the activation of the MPG and only mentioned the take-over of the public transportation system as an aside. On the MarsGroup channels however, speculation immediately turned to the obvious connection of the general call up of MPG forces.
'There has never been a general call up in the entire history of the MPG,' one MarsGroup commentator
