"What about Washington?" An Amazonian Princeps with long blond hair and a mannish jaw asked.
"Let the National Guard have it. If they can't deal with Haushofer's rabble th-"
"They've suffered heavy casualties and radio traffic indicates their morale is abysmally low."
Raylene eyed the tall blond for a few seconds before lashing out with her fist and flattening the woman's nose across her cheek. Blood pulsed across the woman's lips and jaw and her eyes filled with tears. She leaned back against one of the library tables to steady herself.
"Don't interrupt me." Raylene laughed.
Eliza hurried forward to offer the Princeps a handkerchief but Raylene swatted her hand away with irritation.
"As I was saying…if the National Guard can't handle it then do what's necessary to airlift some marines in. We don't know how long we will have freedom of movement in the air so put it to good use."
"Chicago?" Asked another Princeps timidly.
"Do we have anything on the ground there?"
"Some lightly armed FEMA crews, maybe a squad of sisters that haven't been activated, tons of cops but these Mind Commandos seem to be well enough armed to handle the thin blue line."
"Fuck it. Let them have it for now. The same goes for Los Angeles and…"
"Mexico City, ma'am." Eliza quietly finished her sentence.
"Yes, thank you. The more ground we give up to him now the less ground we have to defend when the real shit hits the fan. Haushofer's disgusting opportunism may actually ease the pressure on us in the long term."
"Mexico City is a special case though ma'am." Eliza offered a printout of intercept traffic to Raylene. "It appears that the Thule's regular army - the Panzer Kommando - has seized Mexico City and is consolidating for a push north into the United States."
"Then it's time for the US military to begin annexing Northern Mexico. How many Mexican units do we have?"
"One light infantry division is in our pocket; The 18th Lince División. Stationed in Ciudad." The Princeps with the recently broken nose interjected.
I was betrayed by the bernio bros, the cougars, and this guy from back page I hired to keep me from jumping out a window at the DNC.
TOTAL WRECK - crazy-eyed hound is covered in cobwebs, has a vespiary on back, graffiti on side and savage thirst for boat fuel. Frankly, I'm in over my head. He's in room 115 at Motel 6, yours free. 555-2851
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