At 5' 8" and 190 pounds Dink Roberts didn't instill a lot of fear into people, but the minute someone judged him on his physical stature they had lost the battle. With his black hair cut high & tight and tan skin some folks took him for ex-military. What he was, however, was pure backwoods good ole boy. His friends trusted him with their lives, his enemies never knew what hit them.

Life had taken some strange twists and Dink found himself a Deputy Sheriff. Sometimes he'd look at the badge and laugh that hillbilly like him would don a uniform of the law. Life hadn't always been fair to Dink, but the job was good pay and he had access to some fun equipment.

As he swung the wheel of the Suburban to take a corner he whistled out loud. "Damn boy, you is up a creek now". The wheels of the Subruban clung to the road as he expertly wove across the Madacam road. His mind drifted back to the events of the previous two days.

Sheriff Ketch was an unabashed Crutchfield supporter. Dink wasn't a big fan of either. After the impeachment it was an open secret that Ketch had traveled to Boston to meet with some of Crutchfield's people and perhaps the man himself. Nobody knew why such a low level players was heading north but everbody had their guesses. Ketch was the sort of Sheriff that had wormed his way into local politics and like a lingering cold just wouldn't quite go away. And after Crutchfields fall, public opinion of Ketch stayed guarded although few actually trusted him.

It didn't hurt that Senator Miles Donovan, supported and protected Ketch. Donovan, the auto dealer with ties to all sorts of "creative" businesses, had also inserted himself into the local scene. His fans were few, but they were vocal and had the money to be obnoxious and throw their weight around.

What John Miller didn't know was that the previous day in the Midwest part of the country a riot had broken out when Crutchfield supporters clashed with local police. The Midwest was President Alan's territory, but Crutchfields supporters from the North East had staged a political march and then attacked police when they responded to the scene. To make matters worse, North Eastern politicians, most loyal to Crutchfield, started calling for sanctions against Midwestern states. Those politicians not calling for outright sanctions against a fellow state of the union still oozed their normal North Eastern arrogence. In the period of hours rhetoric boiled over into threats which lead to action. A host of fistfights, riots and several shootings broke out in border areas. President Alan, uncharacteristically, responded in the worst ways imaginable and only served to make the situation worse.

Old scores needed settled, lingering regional bias surfaced, the simmering rage exploded and suddenly angry speeches turned into battle cries. In a mere 36 hours the situation that had brewed for 25 years had gone super-critical.

Down south, people were also divided but not along such clear lines. Things were much more reminiscent Yugoslavia in World War II than a clear cut "us versus them". People had shifting loyalties, other motives and generally weren't beholden to a "Yankee problem". Sheriff Ketch and Donovan had different ideas however. They saw a chance to consolidate power, and like Donovan's relatives in County Mayo used to do, they took it with brutal force.

When Dink reported to work that morning orders had already gone out mobilizing the State National Guard. Those State troops that did respond locally were augmented by contracted security forces paid for by, none other, than Senator Donovan. The Governor of the neighboring state, Delacroix, already a Donovan fan, had allied with him. The Governor of Donovan's state was missing thanks to Donovan's handywork which meant Donovan was running the show in a large area. Several other neighboring states were teetering on the edge of allying with Donovan, due to his promises and mostly his pressure. Thanks to the problems up North, Donovan was able to make his moves unmolested.

Sheriff Ketch was smart enough to know which of his men he could trust and which he couldn't. Dink, and several others deputies were tasked with rounding up some locals the Sheriff didn't care for. It was more of a test for his men than anything. Dink saw right through the ploy and to buy himself time he agreed, signed out a department Suburban and headed out to the rural areas.

His first stop was his apartment. He knew he'd likely be tracked via the GPS unit in the Suburban so he made a pretense to Ketch of forgetting his cellphone and how he needed it to trick the person he was picking up into going with him. It was a thin ruse at best but it worked. Entering his apartment he swiftly went to the closet where he kept several backpacks of important gear stored behind some old boxes. Grabbing those he also grabbed his rifle and another handgun out of the gun safe. Moving quickly and with purpose he used a chair to reach into a cut out at the back of the closet that was hidden behind a false panel. Out of it came a large cloth sack filled with cash money.

As he made his way to the door, he turned and looked around the apartment he called home the past 10 years. Seeing the picture of his wife and daughter he walked over and kissed it. "Sorry girl, I have to go". He patted the sack, knowing it held the $20,000 settlement from the insurance company after the accident. Then he laughed out loud at how maudlin he was being. "Like a bad movie boy" he muttered as he closed the door to the apartment he'd never see again.

His first stop was the Thompson Ranch. He knew Fred ever since Fred had broken up Dink's first fistfight 25 years ago. Dink had looked up to and in on Fred ever sense. Working quickly they loaded up Fred's truck. "Look Fred, you have to drive North and drive like the wind". "They are tracking my truck by GPS so if I'm here much longer they are going to get nervous. If I leave now I can trick them into thinking I talked you into coming with me. Get in that truck and get to your family in Ohio." Fred looked Dink in the eye but no words needed to be exchanged. Fred was in his F150 and spinning out of the driveway before Dink got back to the Suburban.

"Base this is 232". "Go ahead 232" came back the static laden radio call. "Yea, base, I got Fred and me and hoss are coming back in". "232, base. Copy. See you in 45". Dink tossed down the radio mike and spun out of the driveway. The cows looked at him as if they knew something he didn't.

The route back to base conveniently took him past John Millers place. Dink's hastily conceived plan was to make tracks to Millers, disable the GPS unit, get John and the girls and get the hell out of dodge. "Dink, boy you is up a creek now".

Stopping the Suburban and hopping out Dink laughed when he though about how he got the GPS sales rep to tell him where the unit was hidden on the suburban during a long night of whiskey and cards. It was one of the many nuggets of information that Dink had filed away over the years. Looking under the back of the truck he reached under the bumper and quickly felt the box in a recessed area. Using his knife he quickly cut the wires.

Now he figured he'd have about 40 minutes before Ketch's men showed up if he was lucky. Less if they happened to have "contractors" in the area. As he made the turn into Millers driveway he could see John's figure moving between the shed and the house with Coco loyally following. Before John could do anything rash Dink used the PA, "Miller. It's Dink. We have to move!".