The War Journals: Resistance

  All great plans take time to come together, ours was no different. We made our move a month later on Valentine's day, as inappropriate as that might seem.

  Resistance fighters had been pouring into the city, I-5 had been secured all the way from the Mexican border after we pushed the Chinese back in Malakwa. Jesse had taken to training the new fighters in the street, incorporating parkour into the urban warfare we were teaching them. The results were nothing short of astounding. A moving target was hard to hit, but one that moved through the air as easily as across the ground was formidable.

  My latest surgery was all done through outpatient procedures. They hadn't even put me under to remove most of the metal from my back. The relief was immediate, if not quite adequate. My hand was bad, but the repairs combined with the advanced prosthesis allowed me full function of my arm again. It was cumbersome and hotter than hell, but it worked.

  It covered my entire arm from fingertips to my shoulder and then went across my back and looped around my other arm like a shoulder gun holster. The responsiveness was incredible, if I knew how to play the piano I could have done so. Too bad I'm not musically inclined, the coolest thing I could do was use a keyboard without popping the letters out. Still, that wasn't bad for a guy who couldn't raise his arm above his shoulder without it.

  Of course, this new flexibility left me sore, but I relished the pain. We had set the ball rolling and after days our efforts had warranted concrete results. All that was left was to get the naval yard in motion and break the Joint Chiefs hold on the military.