Barrett nodded in agreement as he followed the loop north.  They had almost made it back around to the heliport.  Governor Baker looked out over the crashing waves and motioned once again.

“Turn off here.”

They eased off the pavement and onto the beach.  The buggy easily managed the sandy terrain. They navigated around the exposed pipeline that audaciously blocked the path.  Barrett drove out to the water’s edge to give them a smoother ride.  An occasional rogue wave would crash into the side of the buggy and splash the governor’s well-worn boots.

Baker smiled as he gazed out across the horizon, before he said, “I used to come here in the off season with my wife.  I’ve always loved this place.  As you’re coming over the causeway you feel like you’re leaving Texas.  Then you see the pipeline on the beach and you know you’re still at home.”

Barrett grinned.

“This is far enough,” Baker said, “stop here.”

They had traveled nearly a mile north from where they turned on the beach.  They were parked in front of several large dunes nestled between two vacant resorts.  Barrett turned off the engine so that he could hear the waves crashing on the shore.  He listened to the calming sound and waited for the governor to speak.

“Barrett, I’m sure you know why I’m really here.”

“Yes sir, but you probably should debrief them, or our commanding officer. I don’t know how much I can help.”

“That’ll come soon enough.  I wanted to talk to you first.”  Governor Baker stepped onto the beach and casually strolled to the water.  “So they’ve been locked up for about ten days?”

“They’ve been on watch for eleven days, sir.  They’ve had free reign of one of the barracks.  They eat what we eat and have a deck of cards and some other things to keep them occupied.  We even gave them a radio so they can listen to Lonestar.”

Radio Lonestar was an initiative by the governor to get the truth out to Texans, as well as the citizens of the surrounding states.  The Federal government had effectively nationalized all media outlets and severely limited internet communications.  They had complete control over what information was disseminated.  Talking heads stiffly read from prompters and bantered back and forth in orchestrated displays like wooden marionettes.  Radio stations played loops of their respective genres without interruption from an on-air personality.  Talk radio had disappeared except for a few closely-monitored outlets.

Radio Lonestar had been the first shot across the Fed’s bow.  Immediately after it began airing, the Federal government began to pull funding and military support from Texas.  All Federal air support had been withdrawn from the state.  Most of the ground forces had been removed, with the exception of a few strategic locations, such as Corpus Christi.  The Feds acted independently and refused to share intelligence with Texas.  Except for the support of a few neighboring states, mainly Oklahoma and Arkansas, Texas was on its own.  New Mexico and Arizona were sharing intelligence with their neighbor, but could offer no logistical or financial support because of their own problems.  The states that were helping were mostly doing so to prevent the border disaster from spilling into their own territory.

The governor stood in silence for several moments.  Finally, he spoke. “There’re only six of them.  I was told there were originally twelve.  Where’re the rest?”

Barrett expected the question and had been considering the best way to respond.  He had decided that the whole truth would be his best route.

“We let six soldiers leave on a supply boat headed back to Pascagoula.”

“That’s an awful brazen decision on the part of this facility, son.  I wasn’t informed of this prior to my arrival.  Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t discharge every officer on base, or worse.”

“Sir, with all due respect, we tried for three days straight to contact command control at Camp Mabry.  We didn’t get a response until day five.   By then, they were gone.  I know Austin is under a lot of pressure right now, but we’re not getting any support.  It’s like we’ve been forgotten.  Some of the boys have taken to calling this place Alamo Island, for more than one reason.  Our situation is extremely dynamic.  We don’t have a week or so to make decisions down here.”

“The whole damn state’s situation is ‘dynamic’ sergeant!  I’ve cities on fire and refugees on the roads.  Good people’re looting to keep from starving.  Petro is twenty dollars a gallon. Trucks’ve quit their routes, shelves are empty and now I hear that the Feds may’ve tried to assassinate soldiers under my command and y’all let half of ‘em go!”

Governor Baker cursed furiously and kicked at the beach.  After a few moments of the uncharacteristic display, he carefully removed his aviator’s sunglasses and gently wiped the lenses on his buttoned shirt.  He closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts, before placing them back over his eyes.

“Look, I know it is tough down here.  We’re asking a lot from y’all.  I know support from Austin is abhorrent, but please tell me you’ve got a better excuse.”

Barrett squared up with the governor in a respectful, but forceful stance.

“Sir, I was a SEAL; those men are my brothers.  I’ve spent a lot of time in places that this government will deny that I ever visited. I’ve captured and interrogated targets that are still officially wanted.  I lived for the extraction jobs, but interrogation was what I did best.  It wasn’t the kind of interrogation you’re thinking though. I just sat and talked with them, usually before the advanced techniques started.  It’s the subtle tells that give us away; the words that make our eyes dart away or twitch, the questions that make our breathing change or our pulse quicken.  Places, names, dates – I could dissect someone without ever picking up a scalpel.  If you don’t believe it, ask anyone here to saddle up to a poker table with me.  Those men had no idea what they were being ordered to do. I stake my honor on that.”

“That’s a little better excuse.”  Governor Baker thought for a moment while examining the man beside him. “So, you’re sure they’d no idea your men were in those Hummers?”

“Yes sir, as far as they knew the Humvees were stolen by cartels.  They also couldn’t have known that we’d up-armored much of our fleet.  Had they known that, they would’ve showed up with heavier armaments.”

“Why were they sent?  Why not just call in an air strike?”

“Well, you did sign Amy’s Law after the incidents in Dallas.  Plus, the Feds know the border is flush with our own drones.  Even if they used jets, the Air Force has been gone so long they probably reasoned it’d raise a flag.  The Feds likely figured that some friendly fire casualties by ground troops could be explained away much easier than a calculated attack from above.  That’s my speculation, at least.”

The incidents in Dallas three months back were three Federal drone crashes in one week.  The Federal government accused Texans of shooting them out of the sky, further escalating tensions.  The third crash killed a three year old girl named Amy Montenago and her mother in their loft apartment.  The state legislature drafted a bill overnight that banned all Federal drones in Texas airspace.  The local media took to calling the measure ‘Amy’s Law’.  The Feds threatened lawsuits and the withdrawal of transportation funding, but the damage was done; the public was outraged.  The Feds eventually relented because their problems were widespread already, and they did not want to risk a confrontation with the popular governor.  Baker was well known for his fiery speeches on states’ rights and individual liberties.

“Sounds like you’ve thought this through.”  Governor Baker turned and stared aimlessly down the beach, as if he was searching for guidance.  “I swear, if this holds up to scrutiny…” his voice trailed off until it was lost in the sounds of the waves.  “We have so much trouble coming our way. I don’t even know where to begin.”