Prologue

America 2042

Colleen Soss stood uncomfortably in the crowded Oval Office. At her age she was used to being the center of attention, her long tenure in Hollywood had put her in the lime light at the tender age of five and she had suffered the pitfalls of childhood stardom that had kept her in the spotlight ever since, drug addiction, nude magazines, a teen pregnancy at the tender age of seventeen, arrests, sex scandals, and finally a stint at the Milford Institute. It was there that the buxom blonde had turned her life around, she had found Jesus, she had gotten involved in right-wing politics, she had sobered up, and she had once more found herself in good graces and developed a reinvigorated career as a Hollywood powerhouse. But despite a life in the public eye, Colleen Soss couldn’t help but feel nervous upon entering the private suite of presidential candidate Samuel M. Milford.

She had been a vocal supporter for President Milford ever since she had graduated from the Milford Institute and became a reformed citizen. It had initially cost her some of the better roles in the left leaning atmosphere of Hollywood, but all that changed after the 22 May attacks on the Senate and the House. Ever since then America had stepped in line to support their stern, right leaning president. Sure, Hollywood might have had a backlash after he dissolved congress and cracked down on the less desirable people in the US populace, but the majority of America supported his bold new vision and Colleen was certainly among them. The Institute had taught Colleen her place in life, as a woman, as a member of society, and as a follower of John Calvin, and she knew that America was a far better place with that type of strict dogma in the White House, especially if it meant giving complete control to the people that deserved it the most. She had been his most vocal supporter in Hollywood and the first to testify and name the names of those in the industry that held subversive liberal views.

Colleen stood nervously to the side of the crowded and busy room as Samuel Milford and his staff watched the election results on the State News Network. Her hand was closed around her daughter Scarlett’s as the pair nervously took in the results. Like Colleen, Scarlett was also a sort of graduate of the Milford Institute. She was raised in the community, raised with the same values and patriotism that it had taken her mother so long to learn, and like her mother, was a firm supporter of Samuel Milford and his strong fascist vision of America. Like Colleen, Scarlett was a blonde bombshell of a woman with long legs, full lips, a slender frame, and a full chest that had already landed her a few roles and was, through the strict tutelage of her mother, becoming a famous and sought after actress in her own right.

Colleen’s blue eyes swept over to Samuel Milford. At Sixty-three, he wasn’t the standard definition of attractiveness. He had a face that was deeply wrinkled, but a face that came with a stern expression, a face that had eyes that told you to back off. He looked like an old and weathered cowboy, a tough man that had lived through tough times. Every inch of his six-three frame seeped authority. He had a fair amount of weight on him, a large pot belly that came from a life time of eating like a real man. He had a hard look about him that promised that he would take no prisoners’ and stand up to the illegal immigrants, homosexuals, non Christians, minorities, and women voters that had made America weak. He was an uncompromising man, and he looked the part. Colleen knew that Samuel Milford was a made of his word.

He had already dissolved the Secrete Service, preferring instead to use the privatized US based para-military groups to provide his personal protection. Twelve-years-ago he had run on a platform of the unrelenting destruction of social services and entitlement programs. He had destroyed public education and replaced it with the more profitable private education through his own Milford Institutions. At

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THE END