****
Bill Fenster was trapped in his limo by a mob of news people on the old logging road three miles from Goth land. “Son of a bitch!” he repeated over and over, as bad news streamed in from his demolished invasion team via cell-phone and radio.
“Is it true that your take-over force has been turned back by forest animals and insects?” shouted a reporter, through the window of his surrounded limo. “Did you pay off government officials in order to push this lumber-grab through?” another asked.
Fenster shook his balding head. This was getting far too ugly and public. Without yielding a word to reporters the limo finally inched its way clear of them and left the scene. There would be other chances to get at the Goths and the Indians, he promised himself.
****