From the first draft sequel to Guns of Penance.

    Somewhere in the wealthier part of the South Pacific, a tall shirtless dark skinned man, his body scarred by bullets, blades, and teeth stood on the marbled rooftop deck of his penthouse. He was watching the North American newsfeed on the wall. The large screen showed images of police helicopters in front of a massive spider-like war machine, a tank the size of a high rise apartment complex, spouting lightning bolts and flame. It was like something out of that god damned War of the Worlds movie, the man thought.

    The moment he saw the mammoth mobile rail gun platform on the screen in the New Cal megalopolis, he knew that its target was the Wall that he had built his fortune on. The Wall had been his crowning achievement, a towering eighty foot high steel and concrete barricade that divided the irradiated poor from the pure, healthy rich of what remained of ruins of the United States of America. It had been his wall, his plan to keep the streets of what many named Corporate America safe as the rest of the country slid into madness.