The Jericho 300

by Whigworld

Jericho

Rating:  PG

Genre:  General, Suspense

Author’s Notes:  The following takes place days after the series “Jericho” ended.

It is the beginning of a civil war in America, and Major Beck has made a decision that will change history…he has taken up arms against his own side.

* * *

“Major Beck! They just passed Alpha Point. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes!”

“Thank you, Private. Back to your post.”

This is it. My, God, he thought…it’s really happening. They were really taking a stand against Cheyenne. In a few minutes, they would be engaged in battle against their own, with only 300 of the bravest men he knew.

Twenty four hours ago, he was a loyal officer in the army of the new America. Now, he was on the frontlines of a revolution. Or a civil war. Whatever history would end up calling it, it didn’t matter. Only one thing was important…by the end of the day, blood would be spilled in Jericho.

Beck stepped out of the command tent, and glared into the midday sun. It was warm, but a breeze from the west made it pleasant.

His troops, as few as they were, positioned themselves at the intersection of the road ahead, as well as on the surrounding hills. His plan was to show an upperhand, maybe get the opposing commander to stop…to talk. As he saw it, dialogue would be the best chance of victory. He had to spread the word of the corrupt government that had seized control…and to buy time for Texas to join forces with Columbus. He had to prove that a strong Columbus government was the only way to restore the United States of America to it’s former glory.

There was a murmur throughout the troops ahead. They were looking at the horizon; something was coming. As Beck looked up, a jet screamed by overhead.

A scout, no doubt. He was reasonably sure that they wouldn’t start an assault without a firsthand look. Any army commander worth his weight would never attack without knowing the full story. Unless…unless Cheyenne gave the order to.

If there was ever a time for a glass of that ten year old scotch in his office, now was it.

“Corporal Sparks!” Beck yelled.

The gangly young man ran up to him and saluted. “Yes, Sir!”

“Corporal, I want you to take two men and make a final sweep through town. Make absolute sure that everyone is in a shelter. I want zero civilian casualties. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir!” He ran towards town, grabbing two men on the way.

Beck smiled. To be back in his first years in the army. It was so much simpler then. Just following orders, not having to make them. Not having to send young men and women to their death.

It was so much simpler.

“Major?” Captain Fletcher, Beck’s long time right-hand man, approached.

“Yes, Tom?” Alone, they were always on a first name basis.

“Ed…how many times are you going to check up on these people? I know you’re fond of them, but…”

“Fond of them?” Beck was becoming irritated at the irreverence his friend held for Jericho. “Tom, these people are the reason for all of this. They are the only ones that saw through this charade of a government. They are the only ones that had the guts…the guts to take us on. They will be the ones that history remembers when this is all over. That’s why we have to make sure they survive. To tell the story.”

The Captain hung his head. The passion of his commander, his friend, was enough to render him speechless.

Beck put his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder.

“Tom, it’s okay. It’s okay to doubt and question.”

Beck’s radio came to life. “Major!”

He picked up the army issue device, “Beck here. Go ahead.”

“Sir, they’re here! They’re coming into view now!”

“How many?”

Silence.

“I said, how many?”

“Good, lord…all of them, Sir.”

That was not an answer he wanted to hear from someone in his ranks. He jumped into his Hummer, Fletcher with him.

They drove to the top of the ridge, hopped out, and focused their binoculars.

All of them.

Across the plain, the army from Cheyenne marched. And drove in Hummers and tanks. And flew in Blackhawk and Apache helicopters.

All of them.

There had to be 3 battalions; as much as 4000 men. Coming to fight him. And his 300.

“Ed…” It was all Fletcher could get out.

“I know.”

The shock wore off, slightly, and Beck’s military instincts took over. He grabbed his friend and shoved him toward the vehicle. The two drove to the front lines.

His troops at the intersection were young, but they looked confident. He liked that. That’s why he handpicked them two months ago…they were the best of their class, and they knew it. But now, Beck hoped that confidence would hold in the face of overwhelming odds.

A black helicopter swept in fast, and took them all by surprise. It hovered over them, for what seemed an eternity. It began it’s descent, and landed about 20 yards from Beck.

His soldiers stood, and pointed weapons at the enemy aircraft. There was no movement, on either side. Just the helicopter surrounded by a hundred of his men, frozen in time.

Then, over a loudspeaker, “Major Beck! It’s Colonel Jamison! I’m coming out.”

The door opened, and an older soldier hopped out. Jamison was a career officer, old school, and did everything by the book. He had a reputation for following orders to the letter, but was a fair man.

And, he was Beck’s father-in-law.

The Major ordered his troops to lower weapons. The two commanders walked towards each other, both feeling a certain level of anxiety.

They reached each other, and suffered through an uncomfortable pause. Jamison made the first move, and placed his hands on Beck’s shoulders.

“Ed. Ed, how are you? It’s been too long.”

He had spoken to his father-in-law since the memorial service for his wife and child after the bombs ended life as he knew it.

“Well, Sir…as you can see, things aren’t going very well at the moment.”

The elder soldier laughed, uncomfortably.

“I do see that. Ed, what are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

“Actually, Sir, for the first time since the September attack, I am seeing things clearly.”

Jamison cleared his throat, and shifted to his commander voice.

“Major Beck. By orders of the Allied States of America, you are ordered to surrender immediately and be taken to Cheyenne to stand trial for treason.”

Beck stared at his counterpart.

“Colonel, I have evidence to show you, evidence that…”

“Major, my orders are to take back Jericho, peacefully or not. You can present your evidence at your trial.”

“My trial? Do you honestly think that they’ll look at any evidence that would incriminate them?”

“Major…Son, please. Don’t make me do this.”

Beck considered his options. Make a stand against an invincible force, or make his case in a corrupt court. Either way, the outcome would be the same. The death penalty.

“Colonel Jamison, we will not leave this position. It is our duty to protect this town, and that is what we will do.”

“Then you’re a damn fool, Ed.”

The Colonel turned and marched back to the helicopter. As it lifted into the air in swirls of dirt and grass, Beck smiled. It was the first time in Twelve years he stood up to the old man.

He turned to his men. He expected to see some fear, but there was none. In one day, he was able to make them believe in this cause for freedom, even if it meant this would be there last moments on this planet. The faith they showed in him was…overwhelming. Maybe he was a better leader than he thought!

He stood on his vehicle, so he could address his troops. Fletcher held a radio near him so those on the flanks could hear, as well.

“Gentlemen…today, you will make history. Today, you will fight the good fight. You will fight the fight that others cannot. Today, you will face tyranny, and will drive it back into the darkness from where it came.

We are only 300, but millions are depending on us to start a revolution that will restore the United States of America. That is the country we signed up to serve, and it is the country we will protect.

Gentlemen, today you will make history.”

That was all. There was nothing else to say. 300 against 4000. For a greater good.

That was all.

And then it began.

On the horizon, the enemy advanced. Row after row of tanks. Thousands of men marching. A dozen battle ready helicopters. Jets streaming in from the distance.

Beck stared on. Without looking, he knew his troops were prepared. At least, as prepared as they could be.

Strange…only one thought went through his mind at that moment….

…it was warm, but the breeze felt so nice.