It was a two day and twenty hour trip from Dallas to Tampa. From Tampa, they'd have to travel to Cape Coral on a set of switch tracks. On that journey the "Spirit of Americana" steamed towards the Floridian border, the soldiers aboard were on standby. They were in the middle of their air support swap, having the Greater Ottawan Biplanes head home and they were to be covered by the New Appalachian Gyrocopter Corps. Armed with dumb-rocket pods, they met up with the locomotive as it crossed the Floridian border. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Thanks to Rothschild's unexpected visit in Plymouth Rock, the four factions had come up with their own ways of contributing to the delegation's safety during the trip.
While the delegates were aboard the train, Dr. Von Schneider, with help from Dr. Sue, had made a much smaller version of his Tri-Berridium Super Core. They were batteries the size of tv remotes that Dr. Sue had configured the various suits of armor to run off of. Dr. Sue had made sure to stash several armor types in the Project Let Freedom Ring area, but they still lost a lot of newer suits that she'd have to rewire fully. However, while the batteries worked for the armor, the duo of scientists was stumped along with the other scientists and engineers at Lasalle Lake trying to get the plant into fully running condition again. They found the Carrington Event had left several output systems irreparable or so fried, simply swapping out parts was a hassle. They continued to work on it while the delegates were away.
As the "Spirit of Americana" neared the last five minutes of their trip, fire raged from burnt out armored cars, trucks and more. The train was ordered to halt by the leaders on board. Once the train had stopped, each leader, dressed in some kind of body armor or armor suit, led half a platoon of their faction's soldiers towards the sound of fighting. Within the confines of the State of Florida, there were two factions that had broken into total war. On the Eastside of Florida, an almost college-fraternity style faction held a majority of territory of the state. They were at war with the Westside of Florida, which resembled that of the geriatric daycare known as the former US Congress. These sixty-five plus citizens may have been old, but many were also veterans. As the delegates walked up, neither side seemed to notice them.
"Should we... pick a side?" Paige said looking to the other three leaders
"No, doing so would undermine the reason we're all here. Ghost, got any ideas?" Keith said seeing the Ghost playing something on the O.M.P.A-XF84H.
"Oh, I'll get their attention. Grab some cover, put on ear protection, once the noise cuts out, come out in a hurry." Said the Ghost powering up the suit fully. "4th Platoon Reavers, ear-pro on and let's move." As the Ghost and the Reavers made their way towards the shootout, the Ghost began the procedure to fire up the dual turboprop engines on the wing-pack of armor. As the engines primed, the group reached the last row of barrier cars acting as their cover.
"What's our signal sir?" One of the Reavers asked him.
"Have your ballistic shields, the Texans gave us, out and follow about thirty to fifty feet behind me.... Which means back up now Corporal."
As the Reavers waited fifty feet behind the Ghost, he activated the hydraulic-risers and foot clamps of the armor. The two engines were now sitting on his shoulders rather than his back. Once the greenlight was active for his foot clamps, he fired up the two engines in one roaring, concussive symphony of eighteen-hundred sonic booms per second. Hearing aids squealed and soldiers covered their ears at the continuous boom. As he trudged forwards, he kicked the cars blocking his part away from him. The Ghost had the attention of the Floridians now. Nobody could move or even hear their own thoughts until the engines shut off. Once they were off, the Ghost and the Reavers were joined by the other delegates. The two faction leaders were now outside as their medics tended to everyone.
"I apologize for the noise everyone. However, this senseless violence is over."
"On whose authority!?" Demanded one of the older people.
"On the authority of Quad-Regional Alliance of the US, or would you prefer we turn on the music again?" Said Morgan, shaking her head.
As the delegates met in Fort Myers, it was explained that the two Floridian factions went to war due to the inability to agree upon a stable border, nor could they agree on the "Articles of the Floridian Covenant", better known as their laws.
"While we wait for the Ghost, why don't y'all two introduce yourselves?" Asked Keith.
"Well, I see no reason not to. I'm Susan C., elected leader of the West Floridians. The gruff-looking, bald guy behind me is my husband, Jim C."
"Yo, the name's Bradley. I'm co-leader with my boy, B-Marshall, of the East Floridians brah."
As the Ghost walked in, he was surprised to recognize two of the Floridians. "Aunt Susan? Uncle Jim? Is that you two?"
"OH MY WORD! I KNEW THOSE GREEN COVERALLS LOOKED FAMILIAR!" She got up and gave him a hug.
"Hey! Good to see ya, buddy!" Said Jim.
"Wait, Ghost. You know those two?" Paige said, looking at her friend.
"Yes, this is my dad's, or Scott's, sister and her husband."
"Did your dad..."
"We can discuss that on the train. Right now, gather things you'll need, all four of you. Bradley, B-Marshall, it's a pleasure to meet you, but if we're gonna get done what we need to, we need to get moving." Said the Ghost.
Once they loaded up onto the train, they made a massive turn and began the journey to Maine. A ceasefire was called and implemented by the big four factions while the leaders of the two factions were away from Florida. While everyone was getting settled into their representative traincar, the Ghost stopped by to talk to his Aunt and Uncle.
"Tell us, did anyone up there make it?" Susan asked nervously.
"Well, aside from myself, both Dad and Grandpa made it."
"My Dad, your Grandpa, made it too! Oh thank God."
"Yeah, they've been instrumental in getting Greater Ottawa into the position we're at now. Especially Grandpa, he's been the backbone of the Agricultural areas in our area."
"That's good to hear. What about your mom? Sister? Asked Jim.
"As of now, they amongst the millions of Americans feared missing or worse. We're all still trying to piece together what happened, but yes, they are at this moment under the missing persons category."
The room was silent for a moment before the Ghost spoke up. "One thing before I go. Call me Ghost, the Ghost of Ottawa, G of O, any of those names/titles work. Can't risk the New World Order finding out my real name."
"Of course."
"Get some rest you two. We've got a long trip ahead of us."
As the "Spirit of Americana" steamed out of Florida, they began the long journey to the Liberal Democracy of the Northeast.