Free TYRANT: The Rise by L. Douglas Hogan Page A

they still do not follow.”
    “General, the American culture is not like the culture you’re used to. They grew up with liberties that cannot simply be extinguished. Our history is full of literature on the spirit of resistance and how it’s catapulted this nation into recognition as the land of free and the home of the brave.”
    “Worthless rhetoric, President Baker. I have just received word that five of our most advanced attack choppers have been shot down over the southern tip of Region Five. Can you explain to me how this can be? Can you explain to me how southern rednecks and hillbillies can take out a group of trained pilots with an armament of heavy guns?”
    President Baker sat quietly as Muhaimin pulled a .40-caliber Caracal F from his holster. President Baker, now scared, began to speak. “General—” But she was interrupted.
    “Silence, President Baker,” Muhaimin said as he walked around to her left and right up behind her. She could hear that he was now directly over her left shoulder. He leaned down over her and grabbed a few strands of her hair and smelled the perfume-based shampoo that she had used to wash it that morning.
    “Growing up in Iran, I wasn’t afforded such amenities. You Americans think you’re so much better than the rest of the world. You think that because you are spoiled with riches and wealth, good farmland and capitalism, that you don’t have to bow to anybody.”
    General Muhaimin released her hair and stood up. He took a few more steps to almost complete a circle, but stopped short, choosing instead to stand at about her two o’clock position. He pulled up his pistol and pointed it directly at her face.
    Now terrified, the president stood up and said, “General Muhaimin, I will destroy the resistance and they will not be heard from again. I will destroy their families, their homes, and fly their bodies north and dump them in the river to send a message to everybody south that resistance is fruitless.”
    General Muhaimin slowly lowered his pistol and holstered it.
    “Now you’re speaking my language, President Baker. Don’t forget your place. I am taking command of your armies and you are relinquishing the title of commander in chief. The United Nations have voted and this is the will of the global community. You are to be a face for the people of America and nothing more. As for these people you call the resistance, they will be killed for conspiring against the new world order.” General Muhaimin turned and walked out of the Oval Office.
    President Adalyn Baker, now realizing she had made several grave mistakes, knew she was a puppet of the blooming new world order. She had envisioned a global community where leaders of the world worked together to free it from violence on every level. She envisioned a world where global leaders worked together to focus on the important issues of climate change and weapons treaties. She knew that if she worked to collapse the American economy, it would be forced into one world currency and that no country would have to rely on another, and that all would be fair and even. She viewed America’s abundant resources as a world resource to be shared. She viewed every nation’s resource as a global asset. Little did she consider, things don’t always turn out the way you plan them.
    When Adalyn had come to her senses, after her near-death experience, she pushed a button on her phone and said, “Get me the Joint Chiefs of Staff, immediately,” and then released the button.
    President Baker waited patiently, at length, for her Joint Chiefs to call, but the call never came. She exited the room and was not met by her two regularly assigned Secret Service agents. They were replaced by two European men in black fatigues. She walked out of the White House and to her car, where she requested the driver take her to the Pentagon. She was followed by white UN military vehicles. Less than fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the Pentagon and was