\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2113827-Soldiers-Choice
Item Icon
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #2113827
A popular college campus becomes a target in a governemt-ordered immigaration crackdown.
         A loud rumble, followed within minutes, by a horrendous explosion causing the wall behind the professor to crumble and the entire Liberal Arts Building to collapse.

         Two days later, Terry Marks and several of his friends went to the war zone that passed for North Campus of San Diego University, once the oldest and most beautiful college in America. It’s historical buildings were well-maintained, and the grounds were meticulously manicured once a week during the spring and summer months, and once a month between September and December.
         It lay fallow between January and March. He surveyed the demolished campus, it looked like Baghdad by the time American forces supposedly left the area. Oh, on the surface, for the eyes of Media cameras and the folks at home, American soldiers were leaving, but America’s presence, while not obvious, was still a factor. “Do you believe the Professor’s words,” the reporter asked as he rudely jabbed a microphone under Terry’s nose.
         Terry Marks, a tall 40 year-old ex-SEAL with black hair and piercing blue eyes, attended the University on a Navy Veterans Grant. And exchanged glances with his friends as they surveyed the remains of the North section of one of the most beautiful University campuses in the nation. Small fires were burning everywhere.
         Many of the historical buildings were now, little more than rubbish while the facades of other buildings still standing had been permanently altered. The campus resembled San Francisco following the ‘Big One’ (Earth Quake) or Baghdad after America invaded--large holes in their sides, shattered windows, the frames of which had been torn loose from the structure and hung precariously by a thin remnant of what had been. They looked ready to fall at any minute. Terry walked onto into area, where dried mud and clumps of charred, brown grass crunched beneath his combat boots. He picked up a thick piece of wood wedged against the base or what had been a beautiful water feature where students regularly congregated during class breaks and the lunch hour, either to wade in the pool to eat, or just to talk and inhale the pleasant aroma that surrounded the area. He angrily brushed his hand across the wood clearing the dirt away and revealing the words The United States Army in large yellow letters.
         He double-timed back to the edge and pushed the piece of wood at the reporter every bit as rudely. "In the light of what happened two days ago, do you think, if Brainard was still alive, he’d still agree that the role of government has long been, and still is, to protect the shores of America?" He asked the reporter.
         “The words on that plank speak for themselves,” his friend said. “What is becoming of this nation when the President uses the Army, and takes his computer war games so seriously that he plays terrorist, killing hundreds of students to convince a war-monger Congress adopt his immigration policies? And prove to the world that everything said in the past 50 years is true." The man paused momentarily, to order his thoughts. "Brezhnev said it all in 1975, 'Why would we want America? She will destroy herself from within.' Do you think that was a prophecy?"
         "What’s worse,” Terry replied. “Is he didn’t even try to mask the attack.” He dropped the piece of wood at the reporter’s feet, and turned away, “What do you think?” He said over his shoulder. "Is it not time ignorant American citizens stop watching and take action? I for one am going to do just that." Terry walked away.
         The reporter pulled the mic back and spoke to his television audience. "There, you have it, citizens," he said. "And from the mouth of a hero who fought to preserve this country's freedoms. Can we, Will we ignore this? Can moralists remain silent?" He swiped his arm to indicate the damage done by an egotistical, overzealous schoolyard bully who wanted his own way.
© Copyright 2017 fictionwriter1 (friendlywriter at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2113827-Soldiers-Choice