Chapter 4 - AWOL

"Joe Mathison? Yes, that name has come to my attention several times in the past two years. Would you mind telling me what is going on here?" The President was looking very confused, and very agitated.

"Admiral Haris has planned to conquer the world sir. Invading Britain, China, and Israel, in a plot that would `unify` it, and bring it to heel under his leadership. Obviously as a conscientious soldier, I cannot allow that to happen and have made plans of my own that will prevent the Admiral from completing this objective." Mathison paused, waiting for a response.

"I see, it appears we made the right choice entrusting you with the command of that Battalion, Mathison. If you would please, arrest Haris and hold him until we can detach a squad of Marines to bring him into custody." The President looked relieved. To bad it would be short lived.

"Mr. President...I will have Haris confined and arrested, however, the HAWC Battalion will no longer be fighting for the American Empire."

"Say again, Commander?"

"The recent actions and invasions of over a hundred countries around the world are a violation of the rights of every human being on this planet. The United States of America once stood for the concept of human rights, no matter which country it was. We all fought in several wars to protect those rights. We liberated countries from dictators and turned them over to the people. We fight tyranny and evil no matter where it comes from. The HAWC Battalion will no longer be a part of the Empire that has fallen so far from it's ideals."

The President was nearly at a loss for words. "You realize that this will make you no better than Admiral Haris, correct?"

"All due respect sir, I don't have any intentions to conquer even a single nation with these MT's. The HAWC's are going to be withdrawn from all conflict around the world until further notice, and we will be taking up permenant residence at a later time. With the HAWC's no longer a trump card in the hands of a power hungry, greedy empire, the world will seek to balance itself. It is the hopes of myself, and everyone that is choosing to follow me, that conquered nations rise up against their oppressors and reclaim the territory they lost through the actions I am directly responsible for."

The President sank in his chair. "You have limited supplies. You're not going to last without direct support from the American Empire, Mathison. The world is changing and working towards unification. Crime is down in every corner of the world, people no longer fear what used to be hostile countries on thier borders. What we are doing is right, Commander, even you have to acknowledge that."

Mathison's eyes glanced back in forth, in thought, before responding. "Unification through domination is something that has been tried in history, many, many times. From Ghenkis Khan and Alexander the Great, to Julius Caesar, Napolean, Hitler, and even most recently Ayatola Haemini. The American Empire has resorted to a stance that mirrors that of these former conquerers." Mathison's words came out very pained. "Mr. President, it is with great regret that I hereby announce to both you, and the world, that the HAWC's are being removed from the control of the American Empire. Admiral Haris will be quarantined on base until the Marine division arrives to take him into custody. We will remain in control of this base for a period of 72 hours, after which we will be vacating with all personel and equipment we need necessary to our survival. After the 72 hours is over, the base will be abandoned, and left for the American Empire to reclaim." Mathison stopped. Letting the Marines walk around freely might be a mistake... time for insurance. "Mr. President. If more than a single squad of marines shows up here for Haris, they will be met with force. If so much as a single person from this base comes up missing, they will be erradicated and I will not only stay here on this base, I will start leveling all targets I choose. I believe it's important to get Haris back into your hands, but at the same time, I need to protect my people."

The President didn't appear angry, he didn't appear withdrawn... he appeared defeated. "I'll give the order Mathison." He then raised his hands up. "Where will you go?"

"We haven't planned that far in advance sir. Needless to say, the world will be informed when we take up permenant residence." With that, Mathison signaled to Omni, who cut the feed. Cheers could be heard echoing across the base from the soldiers that were on the ground. Some were even firing random shots in the air. Inside, Mathison was feeling a mix of emotions. Reminds me of times when good and evil were a little more clear. I hope this is the right decision.

"We're getting a communication from the Command Center." Omni's voice cut through Joe's haze of thought. "The Admiral is uh... unhappy."

"Of course he is. Patch him through."

The Admirals profile filled his communications screen, and as Omni had previously mentioned, he was definately unhappy. "Goddamnit Mathison, what the hell do you think you are doing? You're never going to get off of this base alive. You are a fool to try and defy me!"

Mathison smiled. "I assume the whole command center is watching and listening to this transmission?"

The Admiral stopped. "Of course they are, why wouldn't they be? It doesn't matter, you get your ass back inside the deck and..."

Lancer cut him off. "Security, sieze and detain the Admiral. Put him in his quarters and confine him there until the Marines show up to take him... well... wherever they're going to take him."

The Admirals face dissappeared from the screen, but he could clearly be heard shouting a number of vulgarities and orders at the people he believed were under his control. That takes care of that, time to address the base.

Omni was given the signal, and Mathison began broadcasting. "HAWC's, as of this point in time, the only people who are effectively on the shit list of the American Empire are the twelve pilots inside the MT's. No one else has been implicated in the defection. Now is the time to make your decision. You have been given a rare opportunity to decide which side of history you elect to be on. The side that fights for freedom, no matter where it is, or the side that chooses to suppress those freedoms. It is likely that not everyone will choose to go with us, and that is fine. Which side you choose to fight for is entirely up to you, and should you choose to go with the Americans, no harm will come to you as a result. Those that attempt to stop us through force, will become the first casualties in this new chapter of our history. It would pain me greatly to think I had to turn my weapons on any of you, however, this is now a matter of survival." Mathison paused to let the words sink in to those that were listening.

"Those that choose to go with us, understand that the road ahead is going to be long, and painful. We don't even know where we're going at this point. We just know that we can't sit by and suffer the intolerance of a nation that has forgotten it's very reason for existence. Those that choose to be with us, meet on the deck in 15 minutes. Those that have chosen to stay behind and rejoin the Americans, please go to your quarters and remain there for the duration of our withdrawl."

Again, Mathison signaled Omni who cut the feed.

*******

When the pilots came to the deck, what they saw surprised them. They knew they would get people to go with them, but it appeared as if the entire base had turned out for this. Samantha whistled when she joined the rest of her comrades on the deck, outside their machines. "Incredible, isn't it? I've spent my entire carreer looking to prove that I'm not just a repeat of the past. Looks like no matter how hard I fight it, I just can't get away from it."

Mathison put his arm firmly around her. "Some of the worst people in history had the best intentions. We just have to make sure we're the ones writing the books 25 years from now." He paused briefly, and called the pilot squadron to attention. "First, things first, I want to get this out of the way sooner, as opposed to later. Senior Pilot Samantha Ruthers, aka Psycho, is no longer going to be known by her current callsign, and neither will I." The pilots look slightly confused. "Samantha Ruthers will now be known by the callsign Ghost." The Pilots let out an "oo-rah" of acknowledgement. "I will no longer be known as Lancer, as the term suggest that I'm the tip of the spear that's pointed at the world. From hereon out, I will be known as `anchor`. I will be the one rooting the concept of freedom to the world, one way or another." The Pilots let out another "oo-rah". Ruthers managed to crack a grin, looking up at Mathison, as if sharing a private joke. "Alright people, we've got a lot of work to do and not a whole lot of time to do it. Let's get to it."

Mathison laid his plan out for those gathered on the deck, as well as congratulating them for choosing the road that would be difficult. Standing for the solidarity of concepts long since gone from the world is something that they would most likely not live to regret. The whole world was now looking right at them, setting their sights on taking control of what would be the now `broken arrow` of the American Empire. After he'd finished addressing the base, he dismissed them, ordering them to gather all supplies and make sure all weapons, vehicles, and supplies were loaded up and prepped for transport.

The first 24 hours passed by very quickly, with no one on the base getting much rest at all. Some on the base were watching news broadcasts as if it were something brand new and never before seen. The entire world was in a frenzy with the announcement that the Americans no longer had their weapons. No less than 20 previously independant nations from all over the world had renounced their oppressers and declared their sovreignity again. Those independant nations were calling Mathison a hero, standing up against villainy, recognizing free will and delivering that gift back into the world.

It was approaching 1400 on the second day, when word reached Mathison that the Marine unit had arrived, and had been given clearence to go into the hanger so they could be lowered onto the deck, where they were expecting to take control of Admiral Haris's imprisonment. Mathison also recieved word that the President himself was being escorted by the Marines. When he heard this, he decided to oversee the transferrance of the Admiral himself, and ordered security to bring Haris up to the deck.

All of the HAWC pilots and Haris, along with his guards, were standing on the deck, waiting for the President to appear from behind the blast doors. Haris looked like shit. Mathison had been informed that he'd attempted suicide while in his quarters, but the guards were on him before he could go through with it. How sad it is, when the ambitions of a madman fall crumbling from the anthill he thought was a mountain that watched over the world.

The President appeared, flanked by approxmately twelve Marines. He walked over to the group of now renegade pilots, and stopped short, staring at Admiral Haris, who was looking him dead in the eye now, a hint of lunacy showing in his face. "Good afternoon, Mr. President," Haris started in, "what brings you to Nevada on this warm day?"

The President looked at the man with absolute disgust. "Admiral Haris, you have been charged with treason, as well as conspiracy to overthrow the American Empire, and bring war to innocents around the world. What do you say to these charges?"

Haris stood up a little straighter than he had been previously. "That, Mr. President, is exactly why I'm glad you showed up. I've been held hostage by Mathison and his defectors for the last week or so. They forced my participation in this little charade, threatening my family and friends if I didn't cooperate. I'm innocent here Mr. President."

The pilots were unable to maintain their attention any longer. Most were snickering, others were laughing hysterically. Mathison, chuckling visibly gave the motion for them all to attempt to regain control before speaking himself. "He's all yours, Mr. President."

The President looked over Haris once before eyeballing him again. "Your defiance of these charges has been noted." the President turned towards Mathison. "Sidearm, please."

Mathison was a little surprised by this, but pulled out his weapon, armed it, and handed it to the President. "Sure."

He took the gun, looked it over, and then finally, looked back towards Haris. "I have never fired one of these things. Not even once. I don't believe in violence and bloodshed, and I take actions that I truly believe are the right course for the world. These pilots standing next to you are just as guilty as you are Haris, the difference is that they're not threatening the lives of billions of people through their actions. History will be their judge, their jury, and their executioner. But as for you...."

The President leveled the barrel of the weapon between the eyes of the Admiral. "You are still a part of the American Empire, and subject to it's laws and doctrines. You are found guilty before this military court unless any Marines present object as such." He paused, giving the Marines that were escorting him a chance to come to the defense of the Admiral. None did. A shot rang out through the deck and Haris's head shot backward, blood spewing from the hole in his crown as he impacted the floor.

Everyone stood and stared at the body, taking in the lessons that were being delivered to them. Tyranny is met with incredible resistance, a lesson they would all need to remember, very clearly, if they were to survive the next year. The President broke the akward silence. "Mathison, I need to know something."

Anchor shook his head to clear the webs from it. "And what would that be?"

"Do you plan on invading the American Empire in retaltion for what you consider to be the unethical treatment of various independant nations around the world?"

Mathison responded instantaneously. "That depends on your point of view, sir. Among other things, it is our greatest wish that the nations that have been subverted are allowed their independance again. Of course, those that don't wish to go back to the way things were previously are a different story, but there are a great many nations out there that will be relishing in their newfound freedom. The HAWC's have a lot of sins to atone for, and in absolution, we will assist any conquered nation in the re-establishment of it's sovreignity."

The President offered the sidearm back to the Commander. "Good luck to you then, Mathison. I'd stop you if I could, but not even we have the ability to counteract the MT's. I hope you know what you're doing." He saluted Mathison, and walked off, heading back towards the elevator that would get him off the deck.

As the pilots watched him go, most were feeling their last ties to a former nation cut away from them. There is no going back now, there is no return. They'd just thrown their lot in with the Commander. Now the fight for survival begins. The serious tone on the deck was interrupted by Ruthers, who was now kicking her boot against the corpse of the Admiral. "Man... this thing is going to start to stink in a couple of hours. Can we get rid of it?"

*******

The rest of their time in Area 51 passed with little to no incident. There were a couple brawls amongst base personel that had to be broken up, most likely due to stress and fatigue, but their time in Nevada had come to an end. There was a full battalion of tanks approaching the base, as the group was getting ready to depart. Mathison recognized it immediately as the First Armored Division. They stopped at the entrance to the base, not wanting to cause any alarm or panic. They were just here to take over as soon as the HAWC's had left.

On the other side of the fence, the emotion was one of confusion, and admiration. Mathison's old unit had been dispatched to reclaim command of the base once he'd vacated. All of the veteran soldiers here had taken orders from him at one time or another, and all of the rookies knew who he was through reputation alone. Cargo planes and helecopters were taking off, one after another, to some distant destination. They watched their former commanding officer board the last plane, and wave to them as he dissappeared inside. Cheers could be heard for miles. As the final C-130 took off and faded into the distance of the setting Nevada sun, most of them realized this was the last time they were ever going to see Joe Mathison.