The American Race War

Chapter Seven

The protests had started out peacefully, as many of them did. Thousands of people from various minority communities—African American, Latino, Asian, Muslim—flooded into the streets in cities across the country. They were united by a single purpose: to resist the policies President Blake had rolled out, policies that stripped away protections for minorities, eroded civil liberties, and inflamed racial tensions that had simmered for decades.

The marchers were loud but peaceful at first. They chanted, waved signs that read "We Are All Equal" and "Blake is Not My President," and demanded change. But there was a raw tension in the air, the kind that buzzes just before a storm breaks. The police, in full riot gear, had lined the streets, a wall of helmets, shields, and batons that seemed more like an occupying force than public protectors.

Then it happened.

No one knew who threw the first bottle. It crashed against the shield of one of the riot police, and in a blink, the peaceful demonstration descended into chaos. Tear gas canisters were fired into the crowd. Screams filled the air as people fled the gas, eyes watering, coughing, choking. What started as a civil protest against injustice had turned into a battleground.

President Blake watched the chaos unfold from the safety of the Oval Office, his jaw set in a grim, determined line. The footage on the screen in front of him showed streets on fire, storefronts smashed, and protestors clashing violently with law enforcement.

"This is what happens when you let chaos reign," Blake said, his voice cold and devoid of empathy. He turned to his press secretary. "We will not allow this country to descend into lawlessness. Draft a statement. Let them know I’m deploying the National Guard to deal with these riots."

"Yes, Mr. President," the press secretary replied, typing furiously on his tablet.

Blake turned back to the TV screen, watching with dispassionate eyes as the protests grew more violent. This was not a man of compassion or compromise. Blake had made it clear during his campaign that his administration would take a hard stance, and now he was delivering on that promise.

Meanwhile, across town, Ethan Collins was watching the same footage, but with very different emotions. He sat in a dimly lit bar, the sound of the protest and the violence muted but ever-present on the flat-screen TVs hanging above the counter. Ethan, a former Marine, had seen his share of combat. He’d been deployed in the Middle East, fought in some of the harshest conditions, and witnessed death up close. But what he was seeing now wasn’t some far-off conflict in a foreign land. This was his home, and it was unraveling.

His phone buzzed. It was a message from James, one of his old comrades from the Corps.

“You seeing this? We need to meet.”

Ethan’s response was quick. “Warehouse. One hour.”

The warehouse had been their unofficial meeting spot ever since they returned from their deployments. It was quiet, out of the way, and no one asked questions. A perfect place for soldiers who didn’t quite know how to live in civilian life.

An hour later, Ethan pulled up to the old brick building, the lights dim, but the front door slightly ajar. Inside, James, Mack, and Darren—men he had fought alongside—were already there, the air tense as they paced the floor.

“Did you see the way they handled that?” James was the first to speak, his voice tight with anger. “They’re treating people like the enemy, Ethan. Civilians.”

Ethan nodded but stayed silent for a moment, eyes fixed on the floor. He’d seen the brutality, the excessive force, the images of people—innocent people—being gassed, beaten, and arrested en masse. He’d also seen the rising anger on the faces of those who weren’t just marching anymore—they were ready to fight back.

“It’s not just about the protests,” Mack said, his tone more measured. “Blake’s policies are like a fuse. It was only a matter of time before something exploded.”

Darren leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “And it’s not just here. People are talking about taking this fight national. I’ve been hearing chatter—militias, radical groups, they’re gearing up for something big. Civil war, Ethan. That’s what they’re saying.”

Ethan finally spoke, his voice low and controlled. “This isn’t like anything we’ve dealt with before. We’re not at war, but it feels like it.” He paused, glancing around at his friends. “We need to be smart. Reacting with force is what they want. But if we’re going to get involved, we need to know the full picture.”

James was pacing again. “What’s the full picture? People are getting killed in the streets, man! We took an oath to protect this country.”

Ethan held up a hand. “I know, James. But listen to me—we’re not soldiers anymore. This is a different fight. We don’t have intel, we don’t have backup. We can’t just jump in guns blazing. We need to understand who’s pulling the strings.”

Mack, always the quiet strategist, nodded in agreement. “He’s right. I’ve been hearing rumors—Russia’s meddling in this. Social media’s flooded with bots pushing these extremist agendas. And it’s not just Russia. North Korea, Iran, terrorist cells—everyone sees this as a moment to destabilize the U.S.”

Darren stepped forward, his expression dark. “And what about Blake? You think he’s gonna back down? The guy’s tripling down on his policies, using this as an excuse to crack down harder. The country’s tearing itself apart, and he’s watching it happen.”

Ethan exhaled, staring at the cracked floor beneath his boots. “We can’t stop this storm from coming, but we can be ready. First, we gather intel—figure out who’s feeding the fire. Then, we decide how to act.”

---

As the unrest grew within America, the rest of the world watched in anticipation. In Moscow, Kremlin officials huddled in secret meetings, their expressions cold but calculating. America’s growing unrest was more than just a domestic issue; it was an opportunity.

“We’ve already begun ramping up the disinformation campaign,” one of the Russian operatives said. “We’re amplifying the divisions. Both sides—far right and far left. Let them tear each other apart.”

President Petrov tapped his fingers on the table, considering the reports in front of him. “This is a delicate situation. If America collapses, we could push for influence in Europe, overrun Ukraine and even restore the old Soviet Union. But we must tread carefully. Let them bleed out slowly.”

While Russia sought to destabilize America through subtle influence, other enemies were planning more direct actions. In the shadows of the Middle East, groups like ISIS and Al-Qaeda saw the chaos as an opening. In Tehran, Iranian officials debated how they could use the growing unrest to their advantage. Officially, they condemned Blake’s administration, but secretly, they were arming and funding insurgent groups with hopes of further destabilizing the U.S.

“Our proxies in Iraq and Syria are ready to move if needed,” one of the generals in Iran’s Revolutionary Guard reported. “The Americans are distracted. Now’s the time to strike.”

The Supreme Leader’s voice cut through the room. “Wait. Let the Americans weaken themselves further. We will act when the moment is right.”

Meanwhile, in North Korea, Kim Jong-un sat behind closed doors, a sly grin on his face. “If the U.S. is distracted, they won’t notice our next missile tests. Let them crumble.”

In Washington, London, and even Tokyo, allies of the United States watched with growing concern. Britain, one of America’s closest allies, was worried that if the country collapsed under Blake’s rule, global instability would follow. Behind the doors of Parliament, British officials held tense discussions, trying to figure out how far they could intervene without worsening the situation.

“We must stand by America, but we cannot be dragged into their internal conflicts,” the Prime Minister warned his cabinet. “If Blake’s policies continue, we risk not just a civil war, but the collapse of the Western alliance.”

In Tokyo, the Japanese government, which had long relied on its military alliance with the U.S., feared that a weakened America would mean more aggression from China. The cabinet convened a late-night meeting to discuss the possibility of increasing their own military defenses.

“We have to assume that if the U.S. falls into disarray, we will be left vulnerable,” one of the top defense officials argued.

Across the globe, even in unexpected places like South Africa, Nigeria, and Saudi Arabia, there were concerns. Economic ties with America were at risk. For many, Blake’s policies signaled the potential for disaster, not just for America, but for the global order.

But while world powers debated, there were other, more dangerous forces plotting in the shadows.

Terrorist groups were not the only ones who saw the chaos as a chance to act. Extremist leaders, radicalized militias, and rogue states were all eager to exploit the fractures in American society.

In a dark room somewhere in the Middle East, a man whose face was hidden in shadow spoke to a small group of armed followers. “America is burning,” he said with a chilling smile. “And we will be the ones to light the final match. Get ready, we are going for a visit.”