One Man’s Freedom Fighter

A short story by Glenn Sheldon

Artwork by Carole Humphreys.

 The freedom fighter gazed into the North Carolina sky, a look of steely determination on his face. He cradled a .45 Thompson submachine gun… one similar to the one he had carried on the now-famous video… and watched as the journalists set up the camcorder under the watchful eyes and guns of his bodyguards.

 “Sorry about all the precautions, boys”, apologized the freedom fighter. “But the Paxons have me at the top of their ‘most wanted’ list. Seems that there’s this little matter of their embassy in Bogotá.”

 “And their spacecraft that exploded while in parking orbit”, added the freedom fighter’s top lieutenant, who watched from the mouth of a cave.

 “But I’ve been assured that even their robot drones can’t find us in mountainous terrain”, continued the freedom fighter. He looked at his watch, then towards the journalists. “It’ll be several hours before I’ll be ready for the press conference. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to pray for guidance and confer with my men.”

 “Of course”, replied one of the journalists.

 The freedom fighter turned and walked into the cave.

***************************************************************************

 Cyntha Novi leaned hard on the top of her traveling bag, and was rewarded with the sound of the bag’s latch as it clicked home. She struggled with the weight of the bag and placed it just inside the door of her suite. She looked out of a skylight and saw that darkness had not yet fallen. She was all packed, but her flight did not leave until next mid-morning.

 I’m going to miss this place.

 There were many goodbyes to say. She had grown close to many in the last hundred days. She would miss each and every one of them. She left her suite and took the lift down to the common level. When the lift door opened, she found herself face-to-face with Grigy Bannod. Cyntha had planned on saving her farewells to Grigy for later, and was thinking of inviting him to her suite for the night. This special man, with his selfless need to help others and his inquisitive nature, deserved more than a simple goodbye. And Cyntha wanted something more to remember him by.

 “I was just on my way up to see you”, greeted Grigy, a sad expression on his normally cheerful face.

 Cyntha saw that Grigy held something in his hand. It looked similar to the flora that grew wild on the grounds of their temporary home, but its shape and color were different.

 “What is that?” asked Cyntha, pointing at the strange object.

 “It’s the latest import from Earth”, replied Grigy. “It’s called a ‘rose’. I’ve learned that it is traditional, on Earth, to present these to someone that is cared for, on notable occasions.”

 He extended the item to Cyntha. She accepted it with a smile.

 “What a nice custom!” she exclaimed. “Maybe Earth does have something to offer, after all. Which part of Earth is specific to this gesture?”

 “I understand that the practice may have grown popular in the Occupied Territories, but has spread to most of the planet.”

 “Well”, replied Cyntha, as she inhaled the unusual but pleasant fragrance from the rose, “that just goes to show that even the most wretched places have something to offer the universe.” 

 Decades earlier, during the freedom fighter’s childhood, the event known to some as “The Reunification”, and to others as “The Invasion”, had taken place. His father, once a senior government official, had explained it to him once he had grown old enough to understand.

 Once, most of the inhabitants of the planet Earth had believed that they were the only intelligent beings in the universe. And while a few believed that “others” lived “somewhere out there”, no one had imagined that there existed another world, right in the Solar System, whose inhabitants possessed the technology to hide their entire planet. And nobody had ever considered the possibility that if there such a place did exist, then the first inhabitants of Earth had originally come from that world. But this was exactly what the Paxons had claimed when their fleet of spacecraft had approached the earth and its occupants had contacted not the government, but the people directly. The freedom fighter’s parents had been watching television when the alien signal had taken control of the airwaves and had announced “a reunification”. The aliens had claimed to be a freedom loving people, and so they first contacted the people of the United States of America.

 Most of the freedom fighter’s fellow citizens had welcomed the Paxons with open arms. The aliens had claimed that they only wished to establish friendly relations with their long-lost cousins, the inhabitants of Earth. They offered the wonders of their medical science, free trade, and food-producing technologies never before dreamed of. They claimed to have conquered disease, poverty, crime, and tyranny. They offered these miracles to the inhabitants of the earth, at no cost. Since they made their offer directly to the people, rather than to the government, there had been no opportunity for wiser heads, such as the one possessed by the freedom fighter’s father, to consider the ramifications. 

 The first to arrive had been the medical scientists. Right away, they had contaminated the planet’s water supply with a substance that cured and vaccinated the entire populace against an obscure condition known as GRIDS. That condition, according to most of the scientists of Earth, only attacked homosexual men. Many wondered why that behavior specific malady warranted such an urgent and invasive response.

 Shortly thereafter, the alien doctors cured cancer, heart disease, and all other conditions that had plagued the earth since time remembered. And they did so free of charge. The resulting upheaval and bankruptcy of the insurance and health care industries forced some of the freedom fighter’s childhood neighbors to leave their palatial homes for an uncertain future.

 Soon the alien engineers appeared. Magnetic based transportation and high efficiency solar generators rendered oil, natural gas, and nuclear fission obsolete. More acquaintances disappeared from the freedom fighter’s childhood world of privilege and comfort.

 The privileged class of Earth had waited for the aliens promised new opportunities. Sure enough, alien traders had appeared to arrange for export of goods desired on the planet Paxa. The number one export turned out to be cocaine and the number two export ended up being marijuana. The United States government had refused to legalize either substance and soon the South American Alliance, led by el Presidente Pablo Escobar, replaced the United States as the richest nation on Earth. The aliens seemed baffled by the practice of declaring certain substances to be illegal. And they were righteously enraged at the criminal justice systems of Earth. They considered the caging or killing of human beings to be a barbaric response to deviant behavior. Many nations accepted Paxon “advisors” to reform their systems of crime and punishment. The United States had refused such meddling. Trans-world news reports showed protests, on the planet Paxa, objecting to all assistance to those regions of Earth that continued to engage in “human rights violations”. A disturbing number of the freedom fighter’s fellow citizens had bought into the alien vision of a “truly free society”. Some of them joined in a call for the Paxon authorities to send their advisors, backed by their military, with or without the approval of the United States government. Under the immanent threat of such action, the United States had reluctantly abandoned its death penalty and entered into negotiations in an effort to retain its autonomy.

********************************************************

 Cyntha hesitated at the door of Doctor Waylan’s work chamber. She knew that the sensors would either announce the visitor’s presence, or the automatics would announce the doctor’s absence. Momentarily the door slid open and a slight, elderly man with kindly features beckoned that Cyntha enter. The old man smiled widely and motioned to a seat.

 “Cyntha!” greeted the doctor. “I certainly did not expect to see you until your exit interview in the morning. I thought that you would be saying goodbye to your friends.”

 “And have we not become friends?” countered Cyntha.

 The old man’s smile grew even wider. “Yes, and I’m glad that you recognize me as such”, he said.

 Cyntha’s eyes became moist. “How could I think of you in any way but as a dear, dear friend? You’ve helped me to rejoin the race of people.”

 For a moment, their eyes met with thoughts and words unspoken.

 “And what are your plans, once you leave this place”, inquired the doctor.

 “Are we going to conduct my exit interview now, Doctor?” replied Cyntha.

 “No”, answered the doctor. “I was asking as a friend, not in any official capacity.”

 “Well”, replied Cyntha, “The Courtesans’ Guild has extended my disability leave for three additional days, so that I can get re-settled when I return to Paxa Prime.”

 “Do you still miss the city?” interrupted the doctor. 

 Cyntha’s eyebrows drew downward as she tried to form an answer. “In some ways I do, and in others I do not. A part of me in anxious to return to my life, another part knows that I will never be able to replicate the closeness that I feel with everyone here. I’ve led a solitary life, Doctor, and my time here has made that fact so much more obvious to me.”

 “Perhaps one day soon you’ll join a cluster”, said Dr. Waylan.

 Cyntha shook her head in disagreement. “No. A group marriage does not appeal to me. But maybe, one day, I’ll join with one other in a pairing.”

 “You wish to reproduce?” asked the doctor. “If so, the waiting list is quite long, especially now that Paxa has accepted so many refugees from Earth.”

 “No, I have no desire to reproduce. But I would like to know that the man who holds my hand holds no other.”

 “Does this have anything to do with your friendship with Grigy?”

 Cyntha’s light blue skin turned an unpleasant shade as she blushed. The doctor noticed this and chuckled.

 “It could”, admitted Cyntha. “But Grigy plans to join the Peacekeepers when his time here is over. He’s so fascinated with all things that are of Earth.”

 “Ah, the Peacekeepers”, mused the doctor. “The First Minister’s answer to the unrest on Earth.”

 “You don’t agree with their presence on Earth?” asked Cyntha.

 “I didn’t agree with the Reunification at all”, replied the doctor. “I was on the first fact-finding mission to Earth, as the specialist on deviant behavior. My recommendation was that we remain hidden. I felt that there would be such a clash of values, with our belief in freedom before order, and theirs in order before freedom, that the resulting chaos would be impossible to repair. One example is that our absolute freedom of, or from, religion clashes with their system. We had high hopes for their ‘United States of America’, since their charter stated that their state must not force any beliefs on its citizenry. The reality was that their leadership did, in fact, model the laws to fit into the majority held belief structure, even to the extent of public display of religious creeds. Those who did not believe were still forced to abide by the rules of the majority religion, either by law or by social custom.”

 “And did we not do the same when we forcibly removed their leadership and returned control of their northern continent to the descendants of its first inhabitants?” asked Cyntha.

 “The Text does state that all people should act to right previous wrongs”, agreed Dr. Waylan. “But that is a commonly held belief that is not specific to The Way.”

 Cyntha nodded agreement. 

 “And since we’re speaking as friends here, let me elaborate just a little on that majority held belief structure on the northern continent of Earth. They believe that their deity took human form a long time ago, traveled the earth teaching love and forgiveness, and then was murdered under color of law by religious and secular authorities. Then, just as soon as their belief structure became organized, they spent the next eighteen hundred of their years trying to emulate not their deity, but his murderers. They spent all of their energy thinking up new and inventive ways to torture and kill those that believed differently than themselves. Ways virtually unheard of here on Paxa. They spread their religion by force of arms. Even after they chartered their most powerful nation as a so-called free society, they continued to murder those who they claimed broke their laws, and used their religious beliefs to justify this practice. Their poor and disenfranchised suffered disproportionately under this system. They focus on the minutia of their religious text when it seems to indicate their deity’s displeasure with the specific behavior of others, but they virtually ignore their deity’s teachings regarding love and forgiveness. They believe in a concept called ‘sin’. Loosely translated, that word means ‘wrong’, but there are subtle differences in that translation. A more correct translation might be ‘politically incorrect’. For example, some of them call it ‘sinful’ when one engages in certain sexual acts, or rebels against tyranny. Some thoughts are even considered sinful. Often, there is disagreement regarding what is ‘sinful’ and what is not. But rather than accepting one another’s differences, they react violently. Then there is what they call ‘original sin’. That seems to serve as some sort of excuse for their violent behavior. They believe that their deity forgives them when displeased but they are not so forgiving of others, on an individual basis, even when others’ behavior should not concern them.”

“Is that belief structure specific only to their northern continent?” asked Cyntha.

 “No”, replied the doctor. “But their northern continent stands out because of its inhabitants claim to being a free people.”

 “I suppose it is that much more difficult to help in freeing a people when they believe that they are already free”, remarked Cyntha. “And our principle that no one should be coerced regarding spiritual values has to be frustrating for those who deal directly with the people of Earth.”

 “All of that illustrates my point in recommending against reunification”, said the doctor. “My colleagues disagreed; pointing out that the technology on Earth was progressing at a rate that discovery of Paxa was inevitable. But the deciding factor was that the people of Earth were dying at an unacceptable rate. Their aging process was accelerated, disease was rampant, and they were killing each other as a matter of daily routine. We could not just stand by and do nothing. But we’ve certainly slid down a slippery slope since then.”

********************************************************

 The freedom fighter was old enough to remember when the alien missionaries had appeared. He was not able to reconcile their concept of religion with his own beliefs. The aliens’ primary religion seemed to be a mix of new-age mumbo-jumbo that did not have a strict reward or punishment system. A core belief was that humanity was inherently good and could be depended upon to do the right thing. When Christian theologians tried to explain such concepts as sin, they were met with a disbelieving, yet tolerant stare. Others’ disbelief did not anger the Pagan aliens. They only insisted that every person was on the path that they were meant to travel. The freedom fighter was contemptuous of those who were unwilling to fight for what they believed in. The aliens’ Bible, which they called The Text Of The Way, only had a few acts that were frowned on. Theft, murder, rape, injury of others, slavery, and imprisonment were taboo. So was the taking of territory by force of arms. All of a sudden, it became a subject of debate as to whether or not the United States of America was a legitimate entity. There was talk that one faction of the Paxons wanted the country turned over to the descendants of the Indians, and that another faction wanted the descendants of African slaves to assume power. A number of both groups had immigrated to Paxa, under Paxon regulations that gave asylum to those people of Earth that had been historically persecuted. The new Paxons had formed a core group that had become influential in Paxon politics.

  Some of the freedom fighter’s fellow citizens had embraced the new Pagan religion. A watered down version of Christianity had appeared, both on Earth and among the refugees on Paxa. This new denomination of Christianity had exchanged some of its tenets for those of the Paxons. Its followers soon outnumbered the Christian Fundamentalists.

********************************************************

 Cyntha awakened early. She sensed Grigy’s body next to hers and smiled with the memories of the previous night’s lovemaking. After they had made love twice, Cyntha and Grigy had made some definite plans, and thoughts of those plans warmed Cyntha’s heart further. She dressed, kissed Grigy’s still sleeping form, and hurried to her scheduled exit interview. Grigy could accompany her to the transportation center afterwards.

 Dr. Waylan was not alone when Cyntha arrived. Another, younger, man was seated in an observer’s chair in the doctor’s work chamber. He had cold, yet haunted, eyes that hinted that he had seen and done things that had altered his fundamental being. Cyntha tried to repress her aversion to the man’s dark blue skin. In her heart and head she knew that skin color was not a measure of humanity, but learned attitudes were hard to change.

 “Cyntha”, greeted Dr. Waylon, “I’d like for you to meet Hunro Maar. Hunro was a guest here, like you, but has decided to remain here permanently, on our resident staff. As part of his training, I’ve asked that he participate in your exit interview if you have no objections.”

 “Whatever you wish, Doctor”, replied Cyntha.

 Dr. Waylan nodded appreciation. “Would you share your thoughts with us?” he asked. “And please be aware that Hunro has not inspected your records. He knows nothing of your reasons for coming here.”

 Cyntha took a deep breath as she tried to compose her thoughts into words.

 “Some time ago”, she began, “I became enamored with the substance called cocaine. And I am one of the point four percent that is immune to the anti-addiction vaccine.”

 “There are those who believe that the rate of rejection to the vaccine is much higher”, interrupted the doctor. “And that the First Minister’s administration has downplayed this for political reasons.”

 “That would not surprise me at all”, said Hunro Maar. “Since the First Minister’s cluster is so heavily involved in the import of recreational substances.”

 “Sorry for the interruption, Cyntha”, apologized Dr. Waylan. “Please continue.”

 “I soon found myself stealing from my clients”, said Cyntha. “Eventually, I was reported and an official intervention took place. I was given the choice of ostracism or  coming here for treatment. I came here, and discovered that the root causes of my deviant behavior include my tendency to isolate, and my failure to empathize with others. My experience here has helped me to work on these issues and I feel that progress has been made.”

 “Are there any economic issues that might be a cause of your deviant behavior?” asked the doctor. “Do you need assistance finding employment, housing, or food? Do you need referral to the free cocaine program, so that you need not steal to support your habit?”

 “No”, replied Cyntha. “I recognize my allergic reaction to cocaine and renounce this substance. As you are aware, I have begun a course of treatment for my addiction. As for economic needs, I remain a member in good standing of the Courtesans’ Guild, conditional upon my successful completion of the program here. I have no economic needs.”

 “Excellent!” said Dr. Waylon. “And what are your plans?”

 “I plan to seek certification as a Master Courtesan, then become an instructor at the Courtesan Academy. Grigy Bannod and I have entered into an agreement that we shall pair. He still plans to enlist with the Peacekeepers, once he leaves the Rehabilitation Colony. When his period of service in the Peacekeepers is over, he will join me in Paxa Prime.”

 Hunro Maar raised his eyebrows in interest.

 Cyntha hesitated for a moment. When she continued, her voice took a more official tone.

 “I request that my period of inpatient rehabilitation end now. I offer my amends to my victims and to our society. I am now ready to rejoin that society as a productive member.”

 Dr. Waylan nodded and spoke the ritual words: “On behalf of that society, your amends are accepted. And, on behalf of our society, I offer any needed assistance to assist in your transition as a productive member. Your request to rejoin society without ostracism is granted.”

 Cyntha stood to leave. “Thank you, Doctor”, she said. “And thank you for everything.”

 “We’re always here if you need us”, replied the doctor.

 “One moment, please Cyntha”, said Hunro Maar. “I’d like to share some of my own experiences with you.”

 Dr. Waylon raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Cyntha nodded for the strange man to continue.

 “Did I understand correctly that your intended mate plans to join the Peacekeepers?” asked Maar.

 “Yes you did”, replied Cyntha. “He has become a very selfless man, and he wishes to offer his amends by helping others.”

 “Cyntha, the reason that I came to the Rehabilitation Colony is that I killed a fellow man in a drunken argument, two days after returning from service on Earth with the Peacekeepers.”

 Cyntha gasped, involuntarily. She had never been face to face with a murderer before.

 “And that is my reason for remaining here, rather than rejoining society”, continued Maar. “I can never, truly, offer amends. During my stay here, it was determined that my experiences as a member of the Peacekeepers, on Earth, were the root causes of my deviant behavior.”

 “But I thought that the Peacekeepers help the people of Earth by protecting them from repressive and barbaric regimes”, said Cyntha.

 “That is what I thought”, said Maar. “And that is what the First Minister’s administration tells us. But I soon learned that we were there to ‘stabilize’ the planet. The Peacekeepers do a lot of things, on Earth. I was assigned to the staff of advisors for the leader of the South American Alliance. This leader, El Presidente Escobar, leads a brutal paramilitary group that tightly controls its subjects. Under the present First Minister, our orders were to ignore such human rights violations.”

 “But I’ve heard that the northern region of Earth was the troubled area”, said Cyntha. “The news reports say that we disbanded a barbaric government because they refused to allow freedom for their people! The news reports say that the South American Alliance is our staunchest ally on the planet!”

 “The news media is tightly controlled by the First Minister’s lackeys”, replied Maar contemptuously. “In reality, we tear down one repressive regime while we prop up another equally repressive regime.”

 “But why?” demanded Cyntha.

 “Our intentions started out good”, interjected Dr. Waylan.

 “But they stopped being good a long time ago”, finished Maar. “Now it’s about cocaine and marijuana. The United States government refused to cooperate with our trade delegations, so we got rid of the United States government. In its place, we installed a puppet regime that allows the growth and trade in marijuana. Coincidentally, this move appeased a number of human rights organizations, Earthen refugees, and believers in the Text of The Way. The First Minister is a very astute politician.”

 “And his cluster heads the largest consortium of traders in recreational substances”, said Dr. Waylan. “Their financial backing got him installed in office.”

 “Still, he is our elected leader”, reminded Cyntha. “We owe him our support.”

 “Maybe we do and maybe we don’t”, said Maar. “Remember, he was not elected. The High Council had to step in and install him due to election irregularities.”

 “But the social contract is binding”, said Dr. Waylon, closing the subject. “We’re stuck with him, at least until the next election.”

 “I only spoke of this so that you would know”, said Maar. “Your intended may not be the same man, after he returns from Earth.”

 “And why were you not the same when you returned?” asked Cyntha.

 The former Peacekeeper grew noticeably sad from the memories. A tear ran down the side of his face. He sighed and looked away.

 “It was the things that I did, in response to the terrorists”, he finally said.

  **************************************************************************

   The freedom fighter recalled accompanying his father to Paxa Prime, the city that was the aliens’ seat of government and commerce. His father had been a United States ambassador, and had traveled to Paxa to participate in negotiations that would result in the United States being reduced to the Carolinas, Virginia, and Tennessee. The young man had found the aliens to be arrogant, wasteful, and decadent. Prostitution and drug use flourished. The Paxons lived as if there were no tomorrow. And when one of them broke the law, the response was to talk to the criminal, and to offer them choices. The young man had learned that the Paxons had no prisons, as such. Instead, they had a lavish “rehabilitation colony” where the criminal could decide to stay for a while. If the criminal chose not to avail himself of that service, then the people of Paxa simply stopped speaking to the criminal! And this punishment was not even codified into law; it was simply tradition.

 Then there was the Paxon version of the family: Since aging had been slowed, disease had been all but conquered, and war had faded from memory, the Paxons refused to procreate except at a frequency exactly equal to the death rate. The Paxons tried to duplicate the traditional family by engaging in a practice known as “cluster marriages”, some kind of immoral group situation that often included bisexuality. Since there were few children, parents were in the minority. Because of this, the government addressed the needs of the adults first, rather than those of the children. Gambling and abnormal sex were openly rampant. The freedom fighter suspected that this was what the Paxons had in mind for Earth.

 Shortly after the freedom fighter and his father had returned to Earth in disgrace, the older man had taken his old army forty-five, put the barrel in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

 The vastly reduced United States had existed for several years. But after some border incidents and violence directed towards collaborators, the Paxon “Peacekeepers” had appeared. The United States became “the occupied territories”, with Pagan “advisors” making the decisions under the auspices of radical African Americans, so-called Native Americans, and other sundry traitors. Former President Jimmy Carter formed the American Liberation Organization to attempt negotiations to return the United States to its citizens. Not everyone supported the A.L.O.’s non-violent approach or willingness to compromise. The freedom fighter’s movement, which he named “The Firm”, in memory of his father’s ruined business, was formed to restore a way of life, in the name of God, using any means necessary.

********************************************************

 Cyntha boarded the flightcraft and seated herself next to two men who had the pink skin of Earthers. She thought of Grigy.

 “Hi!” greeted Cyntha. “I’m Cyntha Novi! Are you two from Earth?”

 “What makes you ask that?” demanded one of the Earthers, a scruffy man who exuded an odor that Cyntha thought would soon see him confronted for his personal hygiene.

 “Please excuse my associate”, interjected the other Earther, a better-groomed man who had a military bearing that reminded Cyntha of Hunro Maar. “He’s new here, and doesn’t yet appreciate the friendliness of your people.”

 “That’s okay”, said Cyntha. “I just hoped to talk to you about your home world. I have someone close who will soon be joining the Peacekeepers. I’m a bit concerned about his welfare, that’s all. I’m worried about those terrorists that I keep hearing about.”

 The scruffy Earthman said something in his native tongue. The well-groomed Earthman replied in reassuring tones.

 “That’s not something that we like to talk about”, said the well-groomed Earthman. “It’s an embarrassment.”

 “I understand”, replied Cyntha reassuringly.

 “But please do allow me to introduce myself”, said the well-groomed Earthman. “My name is Tim McVeigh. And this is my associate, David Koresh.”

 Time drew near. One by one, the freedom fighter’s trusted lieutenants joined him in his private chamber of the cave. One of them brought a video monitor, which he hooked to a generator and tuned to a Paxon station.

 “Any thoughts on this auspicious occasion?” asked the freedom fighter.

 “I’m wondering what the Paxons’ response will be”, said one lieutenant.

 “I believe that they will respond with overwhelming military force and possibly weapons of mass destruction”, answered the freedom fighter. “They will reduce parts of the earth to a wasteland. They will abandon all pretense of benign assistance in favor of a more oppressive approach. All the people of Earth, even those who have relocated to Paxa, will feel their anger.”

 “Then why…?”

 “Because we are losing”, replied the freedom fighter. “Our only chance now is to mobilize the earth behind us, and the only way to do that is to create a situation where the Paxons will respond in such a way that they will be universally hated by everyone on Earth.

 Cyntha had dozed. When she awakened, she could see the lights of Paxa Prime from the window of the flightcraft.

 Home at last.

 She noticed that the two earthmen were no longer seated beside her. She left her seat and walked towards the facilities at the front of the vessel. Entering the small lavatory, she could see that the flightcraft’s driver was no longer seated at the helm. In his place was the scruffy earthman. The well-groomed earthman, Tim McVeigh, stood behind the helm console. He held some kind of weapon. Cyntha’s eyes strayed to the floor where the driver lay in a pool of blood.

 “Miss Novi”, said McVeigh, “On our homeworld we have a saying. Roughly translated, it is ‘One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter’.”

 Cyntha could only stare helplessly, paralyzed with fear and terror as the towers of the Trans World Trade Center came closer in front of the flightcraft. Suddenly, she felt intense heat and pain, then nothing.

********************************************************

 The journalists were waiting when the freedom fighter exited the cave.

 “Are you gentlemen ready?” asked the freedom fighter.

 “Yes sir, Mr. Bush”, replied the cameraman. “You’re on.”

 The freedom fighter looked straight at the camera and began:

 “My fellow Americans, today we struck a blow for freedom…”