The Almighty Dominance

General Mark sat in the temporary command room overlooking Los Angeles, certain the night would end without trouble.

He had a thousand soldiers under his command. The rebels? Maybe two or three hundred.

Their target was eight thousand ragged, starving people scattered across the streets-bodies thin, hungry, and unarmed.

To Mark, they were nothing. A thousand rifles would erase them easily.

"Hey—what's happening? Our link's gone!" one of the comms men suddenly shouted.

Another soldier raised his head, pale. "Same here, sir. We're dead on this side too."

"Is the L.A. communications team taking our connection down too?" Mark's voice cut through the room.

"Get someone over there now. Tell them to bring the feed back online."

As the soldier hurried out, Mark waved his hand. "We still have military landlines and radios. Bring them up for now."

The man on radio duty worked the controls. "Sir, the frequencies are jammed— we're getting nothing."

General Mark yawned, "Don't worry. Our soldiers won't lose to the homeless just because we lost communications. They need to learn responsibility too."

He straightened his uniform, more for show than comfort. "I'm going out for some air. Call me if the lines return."

"Yes, General." The salute snapped, nervous.

"Come with me," Mark said, gripping the secretary at his elbow in a public, possessive gesture as he walked out.

"After this is over, I want to enjoy myself. You ready with what I asked for?"

The secretary smiled, "Yes, sir. I selected twenty young women, all ready. I'll have them at your mansion by tomorrow."

"Perfect. Since Alfred Kingston is Governor, life's become heaven," Mark laughed, a bitter, greedy sound.

Outside the base, a sniper watched the compound from a shadowed rooftop. His scope tracked General Mark's movements.

"Report," he whispered into his throat mic. "I have a clear view of General Mark as he walks out. Request permission to engage."

At the command console, one of Bella's secretaries leaned forward. "Miss Governor, we have visual. Do you authorize a take-down of General Mark?"

"Do it," Bella said without hesitation.

"Permission granted," the secretary confirmed into the sniper's net.

A single breath. A single pull.

The round sliced through the night wind and smashed into General Mark's skull.

He dropped at once-like a puppet with its strings severed.

The secretary shrieked, stumbling beside his body. She tried to lift him, but his head was half destroyed, blood pouring in rivers, soaking her hands, her dress, the floor.

Her scream tore upward, raw and wild, echoing into the dark sky.

Before death, all were the same. Power, rank, wealth-all of it was nothing but illusion.

"Command, this is Shadow One. Target neutralized. Mission successful. Over." "Copy that, Shadow One. Excellent work. Stand by for next tasking. We want eyes on the remaining military leadership. You are cleared to proceed at your discretion. Over."

Command. Shadow One moving to

soldiers to slaughter the poor, yet

poor and the homeless fought back-raw, furious, armed. The shock struck the soldiers like

suddenly realized death was closer than

food now have guns and bullets in

them all-forget about detaining!" a captain screamed, his voice

finished, a glint answered him: a round from

eyes wide with

Captain neutralized. Casualty

work. Begin sweep of the area- locate and identify any additional captains or personnel attempting to assume command. You are cleared to engage leadership targets. Maintain ROE.

Roger. Commencing search for remaining leaders and preparing to engage

city like a cold

dead, no one could

the

left themselves wide

they scattered like chicks without a mother hen-easy targets, their arrogance making

the street, a massive crowd surged toward the

in the crowd, Vermont's elite soldiers in disguise moved

the first to smash the bank doors, cracking open the vault and

Angeles

from their homes, stealing whatever they

judge who always favors the elite," one protest leader barked. "He buried us in his courtroom. Tonight we take it back." Judge Carl had been living lavishly, sleeping with two Los Angeles models and enjoying his glamorous

money and power had flowed easily into his

awake at the sound of a

hall and saw hundreds of faces

this?" he stammered, backing into the

hungry men rushed

kicked at it again

years behind bars, stepped through

me in prison for twenty years for a

scapegoat for the rich. You burned my life down. Remember me

Carl begged, his palms raised like

through marble and chandeliers.

the city, the pattern

wealthy had stacked their laughter like armor-fell silent

long scorned by the rich now flooded

their

gaunt with

the depths of

human,

for

money made us different, then our numbers and our

different too.

fear death? So

each other, since there has never

another.

We fear each other.

law of fear always says: kill first

you kill us, or we kill you—until nothing is

humans are born as

their wives, they

children, they killed