Chapter 15

A local shopping mall
January 11, 2021
Miami, Florida

“Excuse me, sir, but aren’t you Reverend Bruce Alton, the British ex-pat and religious leader?” someone approached me in a local shopping mall, temporarily separated from my retinue.

“I am, as it happens. How may I assist you?” I asked the stranger awkwardly, unsure of their point.

“What are your thoughts on the re-election of President Donald Trump? Bernie Sanders came very close, didn’t he, pushing it all the way to the House,” the middle-aged woman asked me with some curiosity.

“Yes, very close indeed, but I think that the ‘rally around the flag’ effect caused any Republicans in small-state delegations who might have wavered to back President Trump in the end. Of course, he’s also term-limited, so this gives them their chance, doesn’t it? 2024 and all that jazz is wide open now. Plus, let’s be honest, most Presidents get re-elected, more often than not. The last President who wasn’t was due to a three-way race and a recession.

“That was in 1992, a while back. As I told that reporter who interviewed me last November, I’m not bothered either way. I know that the President of the United States will do the right thing in cases affecting the UK, regardless of his identity. You guys helped us in both World Wars, after all,” I reassured her.

“That’s good, because I am set to become his White House Counsel. Pam Bondi, the Attorney General of Florida,” she held her hand out for a handshake.

“You’re leaving electoral politics to serve in an appointed capacity? Fascinating. Let me guess, you’re hoping to become the United States’ Attorney General or Deputy AG or Assistant AG or Solicitor General, or a Supreme Court Justice or lower court federal judge in time?” I probed now, not quite trusting her, now that I recognized her and recalled her reputation for graft and corruption.

“Something like that. Face it, there are some real headwinds for female politicians these days, for obvious reasons. We’re paying the price for what our sisters across the Pond did, that’s for sure. The male backlash has reached epic proportions. It badly hurt Elizabeth Warren, for instance, and she dragged the Sanders-Warren ticket down a bit as well,” Pam explained her thoughts on that matter.

“Yes, well, imagine how rough it’s going to be for the ladies in England. Even some life peers have been arrested, though admittedly, the New Order regime had abolished the House of Lords, anyway. It doesn’t matter now. London is surrounded on all sides, both by Royal, Irish, American, and even some Indian troops. Fascinating how quickly Modi used this situation as an excuse to send some forces halfway around the world to Mother England to help liberate her.

“The last-ditch stand of New Order isn’t going so well for them, no electric power, no way to fuel up their remaining tanks, IFVs, and APCs, not enough troops to man them, etc. Basic services all shut down, too. Not even running water. It’s a proper siege,” I observed, as indeed the rest of England was already liberated ... only London remained ... and not even all of that.

The photos from the liberation of Westminster Abbey, for instance, would haunt the world for decades to come. It was badly damaged and would need serious repair. The same with Windsor Castle as well. The fighting around Stonehenge had been desperate, but with male troops deserting the regime in droves, defecting to the Royal camp, the outcome wasn’t in serious doubt. Even now, the circle within London still controlled by New Order shrunk by the day, and almost as soon as a sector was liberated, essential services were restored to the public.

“Salisbury, Hereford, Winchester, etc., the open cities all were declared and fell like dominoes to the Royal troops. The King has been greeted and welcomed as a liberator everywhere, with people who once despised him for Princess Di’s sake now hailing him as a conquering hero, the man who saved Britannia when the politicians failed us,” Nina interjected, having rejoined me, “who is this lady, dear?”