“Commander.”
“Yes?”
“The helicopter is an hour out.”
The Commander looks up from the stack of documents on his desk. His hood hides any hint of expression from the Crimson Guard standing before him. “Good. I’ll be leaving to get ready momentarily.” The Guardsman snaps a salute and turns to leave. “Siege.” He turns sharply on his heel. His mask hid the uncertainty on his face. “Double my escort. Also, make sure all available personnel are assembled on the grand lawn.”
“It shall be done, Commander.” The tension eases out of his body.
“We want to make a good impression on our new guests.”
“Most certainly, Commander.” Another salute, and the crimson-clad soldier hurriedly exits. As the door clicks the Commander stands and turns towards the reinforced bullet-resistant floor-to-ceiling window overlooking his new domain. New Springfield has risen from the ashes of the apocalypse as a beacon of hope. He takes it all in. It is the closest thing to the metropolis of old. A bustling city with electricity, running water, thriving markets, and even an entertainment district. While outside the walls, beyond the one-mile clearing separating this new world from the old, the undead rule.
He then turns to the large map on the wall. Once it would have been a map of the United States, Canada, and Mexico. Now, it’s something else. It marks the boundaries of the new territories. Those in red, under his control, grow daily. The map is red from just north of New Springfield down into Central America and northern South America. His domain expands to the east right up until the irradiated Wastelands. Beyond the Wastelands lie the Badlands under the control of the United Tribes. He looks carefully at the territory. “They will need to be dealt with eventually.” He says to the empty room. Beyond that, running to the Atlantic is No Man’s Land. A place where rival warlords carve up territory faster than they can claim it. The red stops at the Rockies to the west. That is about to change.
He steps away from the window. It’s time to get ready. With the new arrivals landing his position as leader of this new world is one step closer to absolute.
An hour later he stands at the edge of a landing zone flanked on either side by a large contingent of Crimson Guard and Shadow Guard. The Commander and Sieges seem unaffected by the downwash. As the rotors begin to slow the side door opens. Several Vipers jump off followed by a group of old men in suits. The first Viper heads towards the Commander the others herd the men to the side of the landing pad away from the still-spinning propellors. Two more Vipers drag a man, clearly unconscious, from the aircraft. The first Viper off, an Officer stops in front of Cobra Commander, “Package delivered, Commander.”
“Good good. Well done.” The Commander nods his head in the direction of the unconscious man as a MediViper runs up to check him. “It seems you had a bit of a problem.”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle, Commander. Just an old Joe that didn’t like seeing us.”
“You brought back another Joe. Do you know which one?”
“Dialtone. A communications expert.”
“Very good, Major Onesi. If you will have those men brought over.”
“Right away, Commander.” He turns to head back to his men.
“Major.”
“Yes, Commander?”
“See to it that you and your men get the next 5 days off.”
“Yes, Commander.” Major Onesi double-times back to the rest of the Vipers’ Nest group. The suited men are escorted to Cobra Commander. The five guests walk briskly toward the masked man. A look of awe on each of their faces.
Under his mask, a smile spreads across the Commander’s face, he spreads his arms in front of him. “Welcome to New Springfield, Mr. President.”