novelSusiti Chapter 39 Next Step Plan
Chapter 39 Next Step Plan
"Naturally, it's Governor, and the esteemed Mayor Webber."
Joshua Matthews took half a step forward, his expression perfectly calm.
"Any militia unit must unconditionally obey the command of the state armed forces after the governor declares a state of emergency. The city guards defied orders and obstructed us; they have clearly degenerated into part of the mob."
"The governor gave the order to eliminate the rioters. It was perfectly reasonable for us to open fire."
Webber roared, "There are no thugs in San Francisco! Those are citizens exercising their Second Amendment right to self-defense! You are the illegal armed forces! You are thugs sent by the governor!"
"That's not up to you, Mayor Webber."
Sherman stepped forward, back straight, and demanded, "Storming the county jail, lynching detainees, illegally detaining elected officials, murdering dozens of law enforcement officers..."
"I can assure you that from Pennsylvania to Missouri, in any court in any state, this would be sufficient to classify it as armed insurrection; they are nothing short of thugs!"
Weber had a gloomy face and was clenching his teeth.
Everything that happened tonight was beyond his expectations.
The army, completely unafraid of being besieged by San Francisco citizens, dared to march directly into the city with only three or four hundred men. The National Guard, which went to Chinatown to massacre Chinese and has yet to arrive, and the militia that couldn't even hold out for ten minutes…
What was originally a very promising situation is about to collapse suddenly because of these coincidences?
It was as if someone was manipulating things from behind the scenes.
Weber took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He was currently out of troops, and a direct confrontation would be futile; he needed time.
Just wait until dawn the next day, and until the members of the Tomorrow's Vigilance Committee are free, then let Monroe stir up the emotions of tens of thousands of San Francisco citizens.
Even if the number of soldiers sent by the governor doubled to eight hundred, they would still choose to submit to the anger of tens of thousands of San Francisco citizens!
"In that case, we have nothing more to discuss."
Weber slowly backed away, then turned and walked away. But before he could take two steps, he was blocked by two assassins.
"What do you want? I am the mayor of San Francisco!" Weber roared in anger.
The two assassins remained silent, their eyes cold, looking at him like butchers eyeing cattle. They raised their revolvers, aiming them at Webber and forcefully forcing him to retreat.
"This is blatant kidnapping of elected officials! It's treason..."
Webber staggered back, turning to look at Hosea and Sherman, but before he could finish speaking, a heavy blow landed squarely on the back of his neck.
His body stiffened for a moment, an expression of disbelief lingering in his eyes, before he collapsed limply. A bodyguard caught him before he fell and skillfully tied him up.
Sherman frowned, strode over to Hosea, and said, "This is going too far, Mr. Matthews. Was it really necessary?"
Weber was, after all, the mayor of San Francisco. As the military sent to quell the riots, they had no reason to target the mayor. Detaining the mayor would put them at a disadvantage both legally and in the public eye.
Hosea chuckled lightly: "Mr. Sherman, you and I both know perfectly well who's behind that so-called vigilance committee."
"If we let him go, he will incite a mob throughout the city by dawn. At that point, we will not be facing a few hundred rabble, but tens of thousands of incited citizens."
He pointed in the direction of the city hall and said slowly, "Besides, now that things have come to this, no matter what we do, we've already offended the American Party, led by the mayor, to the point of no return."
"It's better to control the situation first. That way, when we march in and rescue the Democratic lawmakers, we'll have room for maneuver in the next round of negotiations."
Sherman remained silent for a long time before finally nodding.
Hosea is right. Detaining the mayor is insane, but releasing a tiger back into the wild is suicidal. The moment they chose to accept the governor's commission, they were already embroiled in a gamble that would either win them all or lose them all.
He took a deep breath and said, "Let's go, Mr. Matthews, let's go and rescue the gentlemen of the Democratic Party."
He turned and ordered: "Attention all personnel! Target the city hall and prison! Rescue the illegally detained councilors and officials. Treat any resistance as insurgents!"
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
Late at night, Chinatown.
The auxiliary team men drove six freight wagons to a stop on the street. The wheels rolled over the still-wet pools of blood, making a sickeningly sticky sound.
"Good heavens!"
Chen Chunsheng stared at the gruesome corpse, and the shovel in his hand clattered to the ground.
It was a head with only half remaining, brain matter and bone fragments splattered on the brick wall behind it, and the remaining eye staring wide-open at the night sky.
He could no longer suppress the nausea and vomiting, and he collapsed into a corner and vomited violently, spraying out all the fried offal from the evening mixed with acidic fluid.
He wasn't the only one; most of the support team members were vomiting, either leaning against the wall or kneeling by the roadside. Some vomited until they could only dry heave, while others even vomited bile.
"Seriously? Your tolerance levels are that low?"
Zhang Wu leaned against the carriage with his arms crossed, chuckling, "Who was it that patted their chest and said, 'Instructor, just give me a gun and I'm good to go into battle'?"
"If you can't even handle the aftermath of the war, imagine the real fighting, hearing your comrades' screams and seeing flesh and blood flying everywhere—you'd probably wet your pants from the shock."
Chen Youtian patted his chest and abdomen, which were burning from vomiting, and said weakly, "Instructor, you didn't say before that the corpses we were supposed to deal with were these pieces of flesh!"
"Minced meat? What kind of minced meat is this, where you can still make out most of the outline, just severed limbs and a broken head?"
Zhang Wu sneered, bent down, and lifted a section of his lower leg from the pool of blood. The cut was jagged, the flesh and skin fluttering in the wind, revealing the broken bones hidden within.
He pointed to his calf and said:
"Have you ever seen a cannon? When a cannonball comes crashing down, the person hit will break into several pieces. If it's an exploding shell, it will be turned into more than a dozen pieces, with intestines hanging from treetops and livers and lungs stuck to the wall. There's no chance of piecing it back together. That's what you call shredded flesh."
He threw the severed leg into the carriage, his tone softening.
"Alright, alright, now that you've thrown up, get back to work. Think about that two dollars you'll get. Tomorrow morning, I'll treat you to pork offal porridge."
"Can...can you give me plain porridge instead...?" a young man asked weakly. "I'm afraid I can't go half a month without meat...ugh!"
"Any kind of porridge will do!"
Zhang Wu waved his hand and looked at the few team members who could barely stand up straight: "Not bad, you guys do have some spirit."
"Work in pairs, and hand over any weapons you find to me—revolvers, muzzle-loading guns, hunting knives, all of them. Store the ammunition in cloth bags, and be careful that the gunpowder doesn't get damp."
In the distance, Jian Yuan was listening to the reports from the assassins.
"The patrol around Chinatown has been completed. Thirty-seven members of the hidden vigilance committee were captured and have all been executed."
"One of them seemed to be the head of the committee, named something like Monroe. He originally wanted to capture them alive, but he was accidentally killed."
"Our side suffered one dead, one seriously wounded, and seven slightly wounded in total. All of them have been sent to Dr. Li Shizhen for treatment."
Jian Yuan nodded and said, "Leave some people to continue patrolling, the rest of you restore the roadblocks, and then go help the support team clean up the battlefield."
"At their pace, I'm afraid they'll still be shoveling up corpses by dawn."
……
At the same time, inside the weapons factory.
Four kerosene lamps with reflectors hung from the beams, illuminating the room as bright as day. A large map of San Francisco was spread out on the long wooden table, where Guilliman had once discussed the next steps of their plan.
"The white Democrats are about to be rescued. The question now is, what should we do next?"
He once tapped the table lightly and said, "Damn it, I killed most of the people, and all I got in return was a tax break promised by the governor and some other small favors."
"I feel like I'm missing out if it ends like this."
Guilliman said, "In that case, my lord, let the Democrats and the American Party continue their attacks. But the stage needs to be expanded, from San Francisco to the whole of California."
"What we need to do is use your abilities to take over San Francisco directly and bring its bureaucratic system completely under our control!"
"My abilities?"
After reflecting on my own skill set, I finally understood Guilliman's unspoken meaning: "You mean, [the dead fear death]?"
"That's right!"
Guilliman nodded and said, "At this moment, we have eliminated most of the American Party's support, and the entire San Francisco bureaucracy is also in jeopardy."
"Just revive a few members of the vigilance committee and let them find opportunities to assassinate Democratic lawmakers later."
He paused, letting the others process the information: "Our men happened to be present when the assassination occurred and began a heroic counterattack."
"In the firefight, eliminate all remaining American Party officials, Democratic hardliners, and any key figures who might stand in our way of taking control of the city."
His eyes gradually brightened: "Then, use the fear of death on these dead people..."
With each level up, the skill "Fear of Death" gains one more use per day. Eight uses seem sufficient.
"Therefore, the San Francisco bureaucracy will be replaced by our people."
Guilliman continued, "Congressmen, police chiefs, tax collectors, militia commanders... those important positions could all be our resurrected assassins. And on the surface, they remain members of their original political factions."
"At that time, the Republican and Democratic parties will continue to attack each other in the state legislature, each blaming the other for orchestrating the San Francisco massacre. Their attention will be completely drawn to each other, which will benefit our next move in California."
"To control the entire city of San Francisco?"
I murmured to myself, and suddenly my heart fluttered.
He knew better than anyone the future value of this pioneering city, which was still dirty and chaotic in 1855: a natural deep-water port, the terminus of the transcontinental railroad, and a gateway to Pacific trade.
Twenty years from now, this place will become the brightest jewel on the west coast of the United States.
Now, it will fall into the hands of the Han people, becoming the first cornerstone of their hegemony.
"Let's do it this way!"
He nodded in agreement with Guilliman's plan. "I will have Jian Yuan pick out the more complete and higher-ranking members of the Vigilance Committee and begin the first step of the plan."
"I'm already fed up with this stinking, dilapidated city. Now that I'm in control, it'll be a perfect opportunity for a major cleanup!"
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
Early morning, Sacramento governor's residence.
In the master bedroom on the second floor, California Governor John Bigler was nestled in a feather mattress, snoring evenly. His left arm was draped over the curvaceous woman beside him.
She was an opera singer who had just arrived from New Orleans last week; her blond hair was spread out on the embroidered pillowcase, rising and falling slightly with her breath.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
A heavy, urgent knocking sounded, and Bigler grunted and rolled over.
"Master! Master!"
Outside the door came the voice of the butler, old Williams, his voice equally urgent. "Your staff member, Mr. Trenton Gan, is here. He says it's extremely urgent! He came directly from the state government telegraph office!"
The woman in bed was woken up and snorted in annoyance. Bigler also finally opened his eyes; being woken up in the middle of the night made his temples throb.
"Tell him to wait for me in the study!"
Bigler's voice was hoarse as he threw back the covers and got up. The woman reached out to pull him, but he gently pushed her away: "Go back to sleep."
Bigler suppressed his morning grumpiness and went downstairs in his pajamas.
"Damn it, Gan, this had better be an urgent matter!"
Inside the study, the kerosene lamp was already lit. Trenton Gan sat on the sofa, holding a telegram in his hand. When Bigler entered, he handed him the telegram.
"Governor, urgent telegram! The soldiers you sent yesterday have stormed into San Francisco and captured all the Americans!"
"What?!"
Bigler instantly became much more alert. He snatched the telegram and began to read it himself.
After reading the above description, he read it again in disbelief: "Three hundred men entered the city while the rioters were besieging Chinatown, dealt with the militia, and directly captured the mayor and the American Party members."
The rioters were routed by Matthews' business partners in Chinatown, and their leader, William Coleman, was killed?!
"God, am I still half asleep, or is it April Fool's Day?"
Trenton Gandow: "If Mr. Matthews dared to send such a telegram, it must be true. After all, San Francisco is only eight or nine hours away from Sacramento; no one would tell such an easily debunked lie."
Bigler burst into a short, sharp laugh: "Very well, very well, the American Party has really struck gold this time. As long as we successfully pin the charge of treason on those bastards like Webber, not only will the judicial system be ours, but now even the executive system will be under our control!"
Trenton Gan continued, "So, Governor, we need to act quickly to expand our advantage."
"First, we need to issue two announcements. One is for the citizens of San Francisco, using a reassuring tone to emphasize that the state government has restored order and to call on citizens to remain calm and support the legitimate authorities."
The other document was intended for all of California and even the entire United States, characterizing the incident as the suppression of an armed rebellion by the American Party, thus paving the way for the subsequent seizure of executive power.
Bigler nodded and said, "The second proclamation can be even stronger in its wording, letting the people in Washington know exactly what good things the American Party has done, and how brilliant and powerful I am. I've made 'the Governor of California decisively quelled the rebellion' their only topic of conversation!"
"clear."
Gan wrote down his thoughts on paper, saying, "The second thing is to control the sources of information. Order the military to take over the telegraph office in San Francisco, and all messages must be reviewed by our Democratic colleagues in San Francisco before they can be sent out, to ensure that our message can spread throughout the state and the country as soon as possible."
"What if someone doesn't cooperate?" Bigler squinted.
Gan said slowly, "Then they have violated military regulations, which is a good excuse to shut them up."
Bigler nodded and said, "Do it your way, Gan."