Free It Was 2052 by J. Richardson

and there, as you said they have had to struggle and fight to survive.  Our armies were decimated in the last years. While we're gathering the intel on this network, we're trying to build up our forces again. If this threat is as it appears, we're hoping to be able to organize and strengthen our military, give them the capability to go into the big cities and destroy this network piece by piece.”
    “Civil War?” he said.
    “I believe these people are internal terrorists. They do not seek the preservation of America, they seek the domination of America.  This will be a war that those of us who hold on to any memory of a prosperous country or hope for it to return, must win.”  Sharon stood up and said, “I hope you'll continue to be on our side.  Please, bring me any information from the city that you're able to obtain.”
    He stood and said, “I will.” From the door, “Sharon, I promise you that I'm on your side.” He pulled it closed behind him. God, I need that beer.  Three minutes later, he joined his driver in the dim lit bar. He sat on the stool and drank down the first brew with barely a breath, ordered another.
    “Have you made contact with the woman?” said the driver. 
    “Sharon?  You just took me there, you know I have,” he sipped the beer now, felt a little calmer.
    “No, I mean the ally, the woman in Brewer's Village.  She's a bit younger than you, I think. Funny and friendly, not a skinny gal---plenty of curves.  Tough though, I pity the man that makes the mistake of thinking she is some helpless female.”
    Bud was baffled and then a smiling face with ash blonde curls flitted across his mind, “You're not talking about Mamie, are you?”
    “Ma-mie, that's her.  She's something, huh?”
    “I'll be damned,  she's something alright. She and the trusted old friend of mine are a couple. There's not been one hint that she was a---ah-h, you know,” said Bud.
    “A spy?” the driver laughed.
    “Kind of a nasty word.”
    “Not to me, Bud.  We need you guys.  You two were just both on your own. I guess she didn't chose to share with you.” The fellow bar fly asked for another beer.
    “S—t! What else don't I know, what about John? Is my old friend another secret agent?”
    “Don't know nothin' about John. Sounds to me like he is now, whether he wanted to be or not.  The man took the last swig and said, “I'm assuming the debriefing went well.  Sleep good, I'll see you in the morning.”
    In the early morning, he was taken closer to the deserted bus stop, “See ya, Bud.”  The growling behemoth arrived shortly and he was delivered back into the fast beating heart of the city villages.  As he made his way toward the Brewer's Village, the smells of the street swirled around him, the odors of a variety of food cooking, the exhausts of the jerky traffic, perfumes and smoke; under it all, an unpleasant and sour layer. As the waves of indifferent pedestrians flowed around him, he wondered if life and the world had made them so disconnected or--- were they born that way?
     
    ***
     
    It was another Thursday, mid morning.  John and Mamie, their friend Bud and the youngest in this newly formed alliance, Jackson met under the tree by the river.  It was all understood between the four of them where they stood, now.  Bud filled the others in on the information he was given in his meeting with Sharon. 
    Jackson said, “That's some pretty wild possibilities. What do you really think? Could there be an organized network that is strong enough to take over America?”
    “I think these government people believe it.  We all know there's something going on around here and agree that the old scientist is stinking with it,” replied Bud.
    John tossed a rock into the river and leaned up against the tree, “That woman that Jackson met, she is scared to death. Probably has a right to be, I think she's in deep trouble. She doesn't have the whole big picture but she knows Pendelton is a