Capshaw's First Command by Josh Hilden Page A

had finally allowed himself to be promoted. “Captain Sleeks this is Capshaw.”
                  When Riley Skeels had arrived with a fresh squad of Scouts from the Island Brian had been surprised. When Riley told him about the change of orders from the General he’d been irritated to the point of being almost pissed. When Riley told him what the refugees from Alaska had to say all other feelings had been replaced by fear.
                  “Major, we’ve reached City Hall,” Riley said. Brian could hear steady and controlled weapon fire in the back ground. “This place looks like it was one of the last places to fall. We’re going to need some of those crackerjack engineers over here to shore it up once we’ve cleared it.”
                  If Brian hadn’t known better he would have thought Riley was having fun.
                  “Roger that Riley, we’re going to need another hour to construct the fort and clear the area around it,” Brian responded looking at his watch then glancing up at the midday sun high above his head.
                  “Copy that Major. We’ll be fine out here until you arrive,” the young battle scarred Captain replied, then he laughed. “It’s not like we’re back on the docks.”
                  Riley cut communications and Brian was sure the Scouts would have little, if any problem holding the building. The plan was to use the City Hall as the next fort in a plan to leap frog around the core of the city until they were in control of the important areas. Eventually they’d be able to use Duluth as their largest mainland stronghold for reconstruction. The Canadians were doing the same thing from their center in Sudbury and the plan was to link up on the north shore of Lake Superior in the next year.
                  Or that had been the plan.
                  Much like the first days of the rising, these plans had gone straight to hell.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Then, Day One of the Rising, South End of the Mackinac Bridge
     
                  “This has got to be a fucking joke,” Corporal Nathan Hacker grunted as he placed another sandbag on the pile. He wasn’t having fun but he was glad he wasn’t one of FNG’s,  fucking new guy, stuck filling the bags from the massive pile of dirt the back hoe was piling up. “Who the fuck down in Lansing thought barricading Big Mac was a good use of our time?”
                  “I don’t know Hacker,” PFC Tom Linden said tossing another bag on the barricade around their fire pit. The skinny Private was usually quiet and reserved which was why Nathan liked hanging out with him. “Haven’t you heard the reports coming in from the cities?”
                  “It’s all a bunch of confused bullshit Linden,” Nathan said laughing. “It’s a bunch of damn welfare assholes and fucking thugs rioting because their President isn’t giving them free cell phones and cash for votes.”
                  He didn’t see Tom Linden shake his head in disgust.
                  “I knew when we elected one of them as commander in chief it was all going to go down the shitter,” he grunted tossing another sack of dirt. “Anytime you put one of them in charge of something you are pretty much guaranteed it’s going to be a colossal cluster fuck.”
                  “One of who Corporal?” a calm measured voice asked.
                  Both men froze.
                  “I am quite interested as to just who one of them is Corporal?” Second Lieutenant Brian Capshaw asked. “Who are the people who turn everything they do into a colossal CF?”
                  Nathan was frozen, unsure what to say.
                  “I think Corporal Hacker meant a Democrat sir,” PFC