1765: The Revolution

Reads: 124  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 4 (v.1) - Year of Our Lord: 2032

Submitted: March 25, 2020

Reads: 19

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 25, 2020

A A A

A A A

Greg Grisham sat with pencil in hand as he listened to the ham radio, copying down the coded message.  He tapped the Morse Code keyer rapidly returning the coded message.  When he finished, he ripped the page from the notebook and handed it to Lonny Pasquel, who was the acting commander of the Midwest Militia, located in western Missouri.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Lonny shouted.  “They think that they can raid homes without probable cause, and take what every they want?

“Tell the West Virginia Militia that help is on the way.  We are not going to allow this to continue,” Lonny ordered.  “that is twenty-nine homes, eight rapes, and twenty-nine times that the NATO Forces have stolen jewelry and other property of value with their warrantless raids.  This is going to stop.”

Greg looked up the new code of the day and started tapping out his message and stopped.  “When can we tell them to expect assistance?”

“Four days.  Whisky Rider from Kentucky will be his next contact.”

Greg tapped that out then changed the radio to the afternoon frequency.

“Get on the horn and rally the support,” Lonny said, “We need to get motivated.  Today is the day.”

Greg turned from the key and moved the microphone of the ham radio close.  “Whiskey Rider, this is Hillbilly. Wednesday rule of the day.  Whiskey Rider, this is Hillbilly.  Wednesday rule of the day.”

“Hillbilly,” Whisky Rider answered, “copy Wednesday rule.”

As soon as Whiskey Rider answered, Greg changed transmitting frequency to forty meter, 7.125 MHz and the receiver frequency to eighty meter, 3.56 MHz.

“Hillbilly, this is Whiskey Rider.  Ready for transmission.”

“Whiskey Rider, the great state number nine, outpost Alpha Seven, four days.  End of transmission.”

“Hillbilly, copy.  Alpha Seven, four days.  End of transmission.”

Whisky Rider checked the channel of the transmit CB radio that it was on twenty-two and the receiver was on channel three and keyed the microphone, “Whiskey Rider, Total Drunk.  Now.”

Almost immediately, the CB burst into individual messages from channel three, “Copy Total Drunk.”

Five minutes later, channel three got quiet.  Now the wait for Total Drunk to arrive.

Within the next hour, vehicles began to travel down a small back road to a designated meeting place.  Two hours later, over seventy-five men and women were assembled.

“It appears that it is going to start, and we are the first out,” Whisky Rider said.  “I will be the first to say, that it scares the Hell out of me.  Not that we are going to start a war, but that I will be using my weapon quite possibly on American citizens.

“I talked to Alpha Seven in West Virginia.  NATO has gotten out of hand.  We are to rally with them in three days in Barboursville.  Main Street and the Railroad Tracks, two in the afternoon.

“From there, we will be headed to Huntington for first intercept.  This may be the second shot that is heard around the world.”

Faces were intent and showing concern.  Words of civil war have been uttered since 2019, but no moves had ever been made.  This move was now up to the Kentucky and West Virginia militias.

“I have sent word to the other five groups in Kentucky.  We are officially hunting foreign squirrel and possibly native squirrel if it requires.

“It will be armed resistance.  Take the next two days to prepare, load and be back here.  We will orchestrate departure and routes from here.

“Now go home,” Whisky Rider concluded.

A younger member remained behind as the rest of the Total Drunk members drove away.  He stood there with a rather blank stare, then walked over to the commander.

“What exactly did you mean that we will be hunting foreign and native squirrel?” he asked.

“We will be focusing our actions on the NATO Forces or foreign combatants, squirrels.  However, if the local police or National Guard get involved, they will become the native squirrels also,” Whisky Rider explained.

“Are you afraid to go?”

“Yes,” the youngster stammered.  “I have never been in the Army or anything.  I haven’t shot anything bigger than a deer and have never shot at anything that could shoot back.

“You asked if I am afraid… I said yes, but no, I am not afraid, I am terrified.  I know that I that I signed up for this, but I am not sure I can follow through,” the younger man answered trembling.

“I understand,” Whisky Rider said calmly.  “There is no good way to fight in a war.  I’ll tell you what, why don’t you stay home and defend our families.  If it should be found out that Kentucky has entered the fray, our families will be in danger.

“Follow me home, I will show you the safe-haven bunkers that I have set up for this purpose.  It will house fifty people.  When things go south, and they will, I already have about thirty-six people that will show up.  Take them in and discreetly hunt for fresh food as needed.”

“I can do that,” the youngster said as beads of cold sweat dripped from his forehead.

On the appointed day, Total Drunk started pulling into the meeting area that was totally hidden from aerial view because of the dense tree cover in the Kentucky hills.

A total of one-hundred and seventy-five cars, trucks and vans had collected before Whisky Rider got there himself.  As they took somewhat of a roll call, at least fifty more vehicles pulled in.

“We have a good showing,” the commander commented in the bullhorn he was holding.

“May I have all designated commanders meet with me up here.”

“I want each of you to move out is groups of five vehicles.  Put as many people as is comfortable in each vehicle.  Each person is responsible for their own weapon and ammunition.

“Do not travel close together.  You will stand out like a sore thumb if the troopers see groups of five Kentucky vehicles travelling together.  Space your distance and even roads.  Make sure each has their camouflage arm band.  If they forgot them, there is a large box of them in front of my dually.

“Make contact with Alpha Seven on the corner of Main Street and the Railroad tracks in Barboursville, West Virginia.  He will direct everybody from there.  There is a very large warehouse right there.  I would presume that we will be staging from there, but I am not sure.  Alpha Seven will let everybody know where to meet.

“Make sure of every round fired.  There will be civilians everywhere.  Try to avoid the law enforcement and National Guard if possible.  Let’s keep American lives safe the best we can.

“We will be using channel thirty-two to transmit and channel 6 to receive when we get there.  Use your standard frequencies during travel.

“Any questions?”

“Just one,” one of the commanders started.  “I will preface the question with a statement.  I realize that this is all about our Constitutional rights.  I have no qualms about that.  Now, with us crossing over the state line with the intent of literally starting a war will put us in a felony status, should nobody or no other militia make a declaration of war against the state of West Virginia or the United States?”

“The answer to that is simple,” Whisky Rider answered quickly.  “Yes, we will be committing a felony.  Should you or any of the militia be captured, we will be charged with treason.  Now, best case scenario is that they, the United States or NATO declare war on us.  This will justify our first act and bring on possibly thousands more militia.

“Does this concern me?  Yes, it scares the crap out of me.  Yet, I will do so because I swore to protect the Constitution in 1973 when I enlisted in the US Army.  There was no expiration date to that oath.  I take it as seriously today as I did when I took it.  In fact, let’s do this today.  I am glad you asked that question.

“Get everybody into a formation, please.”

Whisky Rider walked over to his dually and reached through the passenger’s door and picked up a manilla folder full of papers.

He raised the bullhorn to his mouth and said, “I want to read this to you before we start.  This changed my life in 1973 and it still moves me to tears when I read it.

“I, Bruce W. Collier, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the Officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the uniform code of military justice.  So help me God.

“I want to read this again and have each of you repeat it after me.  Let the truth of this oath speak to your heart and cement your resolve to the daunting task that is before us.

“I, say your name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the Officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the uniform code of military justice.  So help me God.

“I have a copy of the oath you have just taken, but I want to clarify one thing.  Where it says that you will obey the President of the United States, it is referring to a legitimate President.

“When the sitting President refuses to uphold the Constitution of the United States, they are a hostile to the United States of America.

“Today, we have a President, a Congress, and a Senate that refuse to uphold or honor the Constitution.  By attempting to overthrow the Constitution, they are attempting to overthrow the United States.

“We have many governors that refuse to govern according to the Unites States Constitution.  We have many state congresses and senates that refuse to endorse the Constitution.  These government can and will if the military will heed their orders, move against us with all their might.

“We have taken on, by our own volition, a war that will most likely take the world by surprise and possibly create a world war by this time tomorrow.

“God help us as we start the launch of something far bigger than us.”

It was stone quiet for a few moments.  A few men shouted, “Hooah,” then came a spontaneous battle cry that would have scared Braveheart into submission, “HOOAH!”.

Many of them shook hands with the members of the other militia that they had never met and hugged them.  After a few minutes, they gathered together with their respective units to receive instructions.

The first five vehicles began moving out.  Each grouping of five had different travel plans and time slots.  The departure went off like clockwork as the last five vehicles left.

“Push it a little,” Whisky Rider told his travelling partner Charlie.  “Don’t get a ticket, but let’s get there as quick as possible.  I want to visit with Alpha Seven before confusion sets in.”

Charlie was pushing the acceptable limits of the speed limit to the max, while Bruce studied maps of the area around Huntington.

“If this is going to be an urban maneuver, I do not see a favorable ending.  If they are raiding homes, we will be hitting NATO Forces in town, in a residential area.  This is going to get really ugly.”

As the hour and a half drive came to an end, Charlie and Bruce, saw the directions to the meeting place on a poster board, “Company Party”, next to the tracks on Main Street, pointing to the very large building just to the south.  Pulling into the parking lot, they saw that there were only three vehicles parked there.

As they stepped from the dually, a small framed man came out of the door and motioned for them to enter.

“Greetings,” the small man said as they walked through the door.  “Are you here for the company party?”

Bruce responded with a well-rehearsed answer, “Absolutely, West Virginia rocks.”

“I am Alpha Seven,” the small man introduced himself.  “You are Whiskey Rider?”

“I am.  When does the party start?” Bruce asked.

“I am waiting for my scouts to return with a possible schedule of presumed homes that they will be targeting.  I also have another scout at the Huntington, West Virginia National Guard Armory, talking to Captain Kelly Sanders.  We are waiting to see if they will follow the orders of the governor.

“News from Mr. Patriot,” Alpha Seven continued.  “This will be an unarmed maneuver today.  We want to see the resolve of NATO Forces and the National Guard, should they show up.

“Because you were out of contact on your trip here, Mr. Patriot, our national director wants to make a declaration of war, so to speak, before we fire a round.

“We will be going in today completely unarmed.  If NATO fires a shot, it will prompt National to proclaim war.  If we fire the first round, then we and the entire Second Amendment movement will be traitors or terrorists.  We want to avoid that.”

“Copy,” Whisky Rider said softly.  “I know that some of our guys will not be happy about that, but I totally understand.

“Do you have a name?” Whisky Rider asked.

“I do.  Alpha Seven,” he said firmly.  “Just as yours is Whiskey Rider.

“Any more than that could lead to our groups true identity, which would lead to group persecution.  Let’s remember that and practice that.”

“I understand and I am embarrassed.  It has been since the 1970s since that I have been in the military and have forgotten the idiosyncrasies of secrecy in identities,” Whisky Rider explained.

The door opened and twenty Totally Drunk members walked in, armed and ready for battle.  Following them were another thirty of the West Virginia Alpha Crew.

“How many are you expecting to be here?” Alpha Seven asked.

“Two-hundred-twenty plus or minus.”

“Fill them in on the unarmed appearance.  They can leave all weapons and ammunition in the back room.  We have an armed guard posted there.”

Over the next two hours, all Totally Drunk were present with a final headcount at two-hundred-eighty-three.

All arms and ammo were stowed in the secure room and they milled around the warehouse, visiting with the Alpha Crew.

“Alpha Crew, Totally Drunk, let’s form up!” Alpha Seven shouted.  “We leave in ten minutes.”

It took about two minutes for the massive group of five-hundred-sixty men and women to assemble into a formation.

“We are headed to the south side of Huntington.  We will meet our scouts there.  Load as few vehicles as possible with as many people as possible.  Our scouts have reported that NATO Forces are just now preparing to leave Chesapeake, headed to the Washington Boulevard and Copper Glen Drive area.

“We should beat them there.  We want to make a show of force but not dangerous force.  If they fire upon us, we will stay there and hold our ground until they get excessively aggressive, then we will retreat back to here.

“The West Virginia National Guard is not going to be present.  They have refused the governor’s orders to assist.  Hooah!”

“Hooah!” everybody shouted back.

“Watch for my bright yellow van.  I will have the US Flag posted on a tall staff, visible from quite a distance.  If the flag drops, retreat.

“Understood?”

“Hooah,” everybody shouted.

Alpha Seven stepped down from the crate he had been standing on and headed for the door.  Five-hundred-sixty patriots followed him.

It was an impressive convoy as more than three-hundred vehicles filed out of the parking lot after him.

Fifteen minutes later, Washington Boulevard in the Copper Glen Drive area was completely lined with militia member vehicles, with the bright yellow van parked nearest the corner of Copper Glen Drive, the US flag proudly waving in the breeze.

As soon as the flag was hoisted, NATO Forces began to move down Washington Boulevard and approach the Copper Glen area, to find that the only place for their vehicles was three blocks away.  They would have to walk in from Glenwood Terrace.

Fifty-two NATO Forces formed in a loose formation and started their trek.  As they passed two smaller furniture delivery trucks, they stopped in their tracks when they say over five hundred people blocking their path any further.

Alpha Seven stepped to the front of the crowd and strode to the highest-ranking man he could find.

“Major,” Alpha Seven started, “We are here to let you know that as unarmed American citizens, that you are not allowed, by the Constitution of the United States to come into our homes and confiscate any weapons or ammunition.

“Again, we are not armed, but we will offer passive resistance if necessary. The only way that we will move is if harmful, dangerous, or deadly force is exercised against us.  Do you understand?”

“To whom might I be speaking to?” Major Penshei spoke in broken English.

“I am the man who just told you what we are doing,” Alpha Seven said defiantly.  “My name has nothing to do with it, but if you must know, you can call me Nathan Hale.”

“Why should I call you Nathan Hale?”  the major asked.  “I know that that is not you given name.”

“I regret that I have only one life to give for my country…” Alpha Seven started.

“I know the quote,” Penshei said aggravatedly as he removed his semiautomatic pistol from his holster.  “Now, do I get your given name, or do I need to read it off of your driver’s license after you are dead?”

“If you must,” then go ahead,” Alpha Seven said taunting him.  “However, I must remind you that I am unarmed.”

Penshei holstered his weapon, smirked and motioned for the platoon that was with him to start walking again.

About fifty men and women stepped forward and blocked the sidewalk and Alpha Seven stepped back and disappeared in the crowd.  To the amazement of the militia, several people left their homes and stood in the way with them.  Some were asking what was going on and others willingly stepped to the forefront to assist any way they could.

The platoon of NATO Forces stopped again and looked at the major to see what they were to do.

“I will complete my orders,” he shouted.  “Anybody getting in our way will be shot!”

An elderly homeowner stepped nose-to-nose with the major.  “I fought in Kuwait.  I was wounded four times.  I fought in Iraq and was wounded twice.  I fought in Afghanistan and got out of there unscathed.  I have carried many of my brothers to their graves because of thugs just like you and I am not about to let you continue.  Either you shoot me now or go home.”

They stood there almost nose-to-nose and stared at each other for a moment.  Then Major Penshei stepped back and drew his sidearm and fired one shot in the air to see if he could scare the old man away.  Several in the crowd turned and scurried away but the old man stood his ground.

Penshei took aim at the old man and said, “Today, you have faced the enemy that will end your suffering.”  He pulled the trigger and the old man crumpled to the ground.

Everybody that was looking saw the US Flag drop out of sight an heard the yellow van start the engine.

Everybody started to move away slowly, as did NATO Forces.  All had decided to retreat.  The damage had been done.

A mid-sized but muscular man stepped into yellow van as it prepared to leave.  “I got great footage of the exchange from the very beginning.  I will get it out to the news and on to HQ.”

“I think is has officially started,” Alpha Seven said somberly.

The drive back to the warehouse was silent in every vehicle.  Yes, the event was a success, NATO did not raid any homes, but it was at the cost of a great American.  Though this was really expected, for it to be an unarmed man of such valor, it was a sad moment in the movement.

When all had returned to the warehouse, they gathered their weapons and ammunition and departed for home with no fanfare of any kind.  Even the hour and a half ride back to Kentucky was relatively quiet.

Instead of the common CQ that ham radio operators started with to begin a conversation, ham operator Clyde DeVere, at precisely 3:16 tapped out his usual “USA” five times on the Morse code keyer and followed it with this message.

“When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

“Read it.  Today, it happens. Announcement 1:30 MST this afternoon.  Orders to follow immediately at 170.0, MST.”

Ham operators all over the United States that were connected to the militia were tuned in and ready to copy.  Those who just happened to copy the message that were not connected to the militia figured out quickly that something major was going to take place.

The Federal Communications Commission (FCC), was struggling to triangulate this message.  It had not been preceded or followed by the call sign of the station transmitting.  The message was so short that they didn’t have time to get it locked in and then there was nothing.  That frequency went silent, other than the ordinary ham radio operators chatting all over the world.

What the FCC didn’t know was within the message, was there was a code of where to go to receive the orders?  The code was as simple as what department stores of the sixties and early seventies used on their price tags.

It was a simple five code.  You either add five or subtract five from the numbers and it will give you the actual cost of the item.  In this case, it told you the time of the message and they already knew that it would be broadcast on a different frequency and those who would respond back would do so on a different frequency that had already been established many months prior.  One, seven, zero point zero, was actually 6:25.5 that evening.

TVs and radios were tuned into the news channels to see if there were any official reports of the declaration of war.  Communication officers were listening intently to several radios for other members discussions and preparations.

The official movement of the beginning throws of the war had been tightly kept secret.  None of the militia heads knew of any specific operations.  All that they knew was that the demand for the sniper role was very strategic.

The well-trained snipers that had served in the active military were hesitant to step up and return to sniper duty, though some did.  However, the rest were willing and able to train some of the best shooters in the militia.

When asked about their reluctance, they nearly all responded with the same answer.  “When you are looking at the person’s face before you pull the trigger and you continue to watch their face when their head explodes, or their life is snuffed out, it takes a toll that you cannot ever get over.  I have seen enough of those faces in my life.”

The new snipers all over the nation were put on alert, which meant they had to tell their employer that they would not be in for a few days and tell their families that they had to leave for a few days, without telling them that they were headed out to fight a war against American citizens.

At precisely 1:30 pm MST, a video was released on the internet, and some of the conservative news stations.

“This is Mr. Patriot, the commander of the United States of America Militia.  You already know my name… Mr. Patriot.  As in accordance to the Declaration of Independence that our forefathers drafted, we, the American people have identified and justified fourteen of the seventeen charges against the King of Britain, and have concluded that our government, the Federal Government of the United States is and has been perpetrating these charges against the American people for several years.

“Following are the specific charges that has been sent to several media outlets and to President Boloki, the United States Congress, and the United States Senate.

“Whereas, the United States Government has perpetrated acts of violence against its own people;

“Whereas the United States Government has quartered foreign soldiers in the private homes and businesses of the American citizens;

“Whereas the United States Government has assessed taxes that have caused pain, anguish, and hardship on the American citizens without their consent;

“Whereas the United States Government has legislated laws that conflict with the Second Amendment of the Constitution of the United States;

“Whereas the United States Government has legislated laws that conflict with the Tenth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America;

“Whereas the United States Government has legislated illegal searches and seizures against the American Citizens;

“Whereas the United States of America has employed and authorized a foreign military to operate freely against the American Citizens;

“Whereas the United States Government has condoned the murder of an unarmed citizen without cause;

“Whereas the United States Government has ignored the pleas of the American citizens;

“With this being said, we, as American citizens, who have established a legal militia, comprising of American citizens do hereby declare war against this tyrannical government.

“We realize the eminent threat that this imposes upon the United States of America and we do not rush into this lightly.  This aggression can and will be avoided if the entire sitting government will voluntarily resign their office immediately so that a new election of representatives can be elected.

“I do realize that this is not going to happen.  Therefore, this day, May third, in the year of our Lord 2032, a war is going to become the necessary means of reestablishing the government as set forth by our founding fathers.

“May God grant all of us wisdom to make this right before bloodshed sweeps the land.”

When the broadcast ended, the entire United States and the world were on the edge of their seats.  The liberal media was spinning a message of total hoax upon the American people as if it were an H.G. Wells broadcast of the War of the Worlds.

However, the White House, the Senate, and Congress deemed it totally different.  There was panic inside the beltway of Washington DC.

The White House had moved into the Situation Room with the Joint Chiefs and began to make demands of the military.

“Your oath of enlistment,” President Boloki began to screech in her usual nauseating voice, “orders you to obey the orders of the President of the United States!

“How is it that you can sit there and tell me, the President of the United States, that you will not activate the US Military, in which I am the Commander and Chief, to search out these dissidents and destroy them?”

“Madame President,” Admiral Randal began to explain, “Our oath of enlistment ordered us to defend the Constitution of the United States of America.  When orders by any commander, whether President of the United States or any other violates the Constitution, our allegiance is to the Constitution and not the president.”

“Madame President,” General Goddard of the Air Force picked up, “I would like to take a few hours to examine the charges that this militia has charged the United States Government with.  Should there be legal grounds for these charges, I cannot see a future but honoring the charges with either an apologetic response or accept the declaration of war.”

“Madame President,” Department of Defense Bullard began, “As I see it, those who refuse the orders of the President of the United States are guilty of insubordination and treason.  And, because of their noncompliance to your orders, they are guilty of mutiny, if I can use a naval term…”

“No, you may not use that term,” Admiral Randal stood to his feet, quite agitated.  “I am not sure how it came to be that you, Mr. Bullard, are the head of the DoD, because you have never served in the military of the United States and to accuse us of mutiny is to charge us with attempting to overthrow the United States.

“That Mr. Bullard, we are not doing.  We are here to discuss the situation at hand and to validate the proper response.  Yes, it may result in a war, but we need to tread very carefully here.  We are talking a war with our own citizens.  I do not take that flippantly.

“This is a very grave accusation and a dangerous decision we are about to make here.  I agree with General Goddard.  Let’s take a couple of hours and examine the charges that is being leveled against the government.”

“I agree,” General McMaster said in a calmer voice.  “Have we received any documents from this Commander of the Militia, Mr. Patriot?”

President Boloki looked at her aide and she departed the Situation Room immediately to ascertain the arrival of the document.  Five minutes later, she returned with an unopened manila envelope in her hands and laid it before the president.

President Boloki had her personal security examine and open the envelope.  She pulled the document out of the envelope and began to read silently.  Her face flushed as she began the second page.

All color had drained for a moment and then her anger began to turn the pale skin to flaming red.  She slapped the manuscript down and shouted, “This is BS!  They have branded the entire government, the President, the Senate, and Congress as traitors.  The only branch they didn’t indict here is the Supreme Court, and they were called cowards because of their refusal to stand up and defend the Constitution.

“I will not tolerate such an attack on our government and our nation.”

General McMaster reached over and started to pick up the papers when she slapped her hand on them and stated, “I will have my staff research this to see if it is a justifiable act.  I want it examined to see where it came from.  If we can identify the sender, we can stop this before it gets started.”

“Madame President,” General McMaster stood to his feet, “It is already started.  I give you two hours to prepare a statement for us as to what this document says.  Until that time, the US military is going to do nothing without a clear understanding of what is before us.”

The Joint Chiefs all stood and agreed.  President Boloki stormed out of the Situation Room to the Oval Office with her team of aides.

At precisely 6:25 and one-half minutes pm MST, detailed instructions were being sent out via ham radio to state commanders.  The instructions were short and specific.  “Svpdemonenatstcty.”

The FCC intercepted the message and began to attempt to decipher it.  Having never seen a message like it before, they resorted to the military code breakers.

“It has to have a source code.  Every code does.  Because we are dealing with unexperienced people, it will be either impossible to break the code, which would be good, because if we cannot break it, it is confusing to them also and easily misinterpreted.  However, it could also be a very complex code that we will be able to dissect in time,” Marine First Sergeant Worten said.  “It will take some time, but I think it can be decrypted.”

“Time, we do not have,” Captain Ottoman said.  “We need that code broken immediately.”

First Sergeant Worten went to his desk and started.  Pulling out multiple decoding ciphers, he launched into what he believed to be a complex code.

For two hours he poured over the short, coded message when he slapped the desk and shouted, “So stinking simple.”

Captain Ottoman and other officers that had gathered in the code room quickly walked over to the sergeant’s desk.  “What do you have?”

“Svp is the Socialist Value Party, that was simple.  Dem is Democrats, but I have not figured ‘onenatstcyt’.

“I don’t know if it is a shifting code or code identity for the next transmission.”

“Keep working on it,” Captain Ottoman said as he and the other officers walked away.  “It has to be something obvious.  This appears to be an amateur attempt to coding.”

With weapons locked and loaded, the eight hundred ninety seven designated sniper and spotter teams in all fifty states were dispatched to their designated targets.They knew that time was important, and they had little time to fulfil the task.

Two hours later, another message was sent.  “NAT0P5050ST4A5150CTY2A5450LL4PLTV5151”.

“Here is another code, First Sergeant.” A corporal laid a piece of paper down.  “This makes less sense than the first one.”

“These have some of the same characters in them.  The numbers throw a new twist to it though,” First Sergeant Worten observed verbally.  “Now, my little pretty, what do you mean?

“It is leaning toward NATO Forces, I would surmise, but it isn’t an O, but rather a zero.  I do not see coordinates in this, and any common cipher does not calculate either.  It isn’t a numerical cipher and I do not see an alphabetical cipher.

“I have run it through several computer simulations and have come up empty.  Best case scenario is that it is so simple, it confuses complex cipher algorithms.

“Captain Ottoman, can we send this to Lieutenant Hopkins at Naval Command.  I think that this is right up his alley.”

“Done,” the captain acknowledged.

For the next two hours, neither the Marines nor the Navy could make sense of the code that was intercepted.  All they knew for sure was that the militia used a rotating frequency and transmitted and received on different band widths and that all messages were so short in length that it could not be triangulated.

“Madame President,” General McMaster greeted as she walked back into the Situation Room.  “Do we have a definitive response to the so-called commander of the militia?”

“We do, General,” she said boldly.  “Tell him to kiss my American backside.  We will not surrender to the likes of a want-to-be military might.

“If he wants war, then war is what he will get.

“My investigators found no fingerprints on the documents.  They found no trace of DNA.  They did not find anything that they accused us of as being a warrant to start a war.  So, if it is a war that they demand, I am ready, willing and able to destroy them at their own sick game.”

“I would like to see the findings on the legality of the charges that he spoke of,” Admiral Randal addressed the president.  “I have two Constitutional attorneys on standby.  I would like them to go over the declaration of war that was sent to you.

“It sounds to organized and professionally stated to be some looney-toon extremist.”

“It sounds like they are military related somehow,” General McMaster added.  “It has the markings of a resolution being presented to the Veterans Legion.”

“You’re right Frank,” General Goddard agreed, surprised.  “We were taught at Veterans Legion National Headquarters in a class on writing resolutions that the more ‘whereas’ you put in, the more likely it is to pass as a valid resolution.

“Which lends this declaration is a more credible declaration than we thought before.

“Madame President, with all due respect, I want to examine this document and watch this man’s message again.  To take this stand means he just might be credible.”

“General Goddard,” President Boloki stood to her feet and walked over to where he stood.  “In the words of former President Donald Trump, you are fired.  I will give you two options, leave now and have your letter of resignation on my desk within the hour or get demoted to private and booted out of the military in disgrace.”

“Not a problem,” he said as he stepped back.  “I have a feeling that what is going to happen is not going to end well.  You will have my resignation in a few minutes.”

General Goddard sat down, grabbed some paper and a pen and started writing an official resignation.

What happened next, shook the foundation on which President Boloki based her whole outrage on.  Every officer in the room, US Army, US Navy, US Air Force, US Marines, US Coast Guard, and the US Space Force Commanders all sat down and began to write their letters of resignations except for Mr. Bullard of the Department of Defense.

“Madame President,” General McMaster faced the president.  “What you are about to do is cause extreme collateral damage on the American people and do this on American soil.  I won’t be part of it.”  He dropped his resignation on the table in front of her and walked out the door, as did every member of the Joint Chiefs.

“Find me some generals that will follow orders,” she demanded of Mr. Bullard.  “I will not have this insubordination on my staff.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Mr. Bullard responded as he hustled out of the Situation room.

“Where do we stand on the surveillance video feeds around the nation?” President Boloki asked the technicians in the room.

“We see nothing out of the ordinary, not even on satellite, Madame President,” one of them answered quickly.

“There has to be something showing up somewhere that they are gathering for a strike of some sort.

“If they are a well-organized militia, they have to be gathering in a central location.  It has to be in a location where it would be a strategic strike… A military post or something of military value.”

“We are looking,” a technician said as she frantically flipped from satellite to satellite, looking for anything out of the ordinary.  “But we are not finding anything.”

“Madame President,” Mr. Bullard began, “It is quite possible that Mr. Patriot was just blowing smoke, hoping that we would give a knee jerk reaction.”

“Mr. Bullard,” she scowled.  “If that were the case, six of the top officers of the six military branches of the United States would not have resigned tonight.

“We might have a monumental problem, should this become known very soon.  Find me a new staff and do it this afternoon.”

As Mr. Bullard promptly headed out of the Situation Room, attention was again focused on the technicians studying monitors to find something of importance to report to the new Madame President Boloki.

“Nothing is moving out there,” one technician said as she turned and faced the president.  “Not one thing looks out of the ordinary.”

“Keep after it.  It will eventually,” President Boloki scolded.

“If the declaration of war was just issued,” one technician turned in his chair to address the president, “Wouldn’t it be plausible that they would need time to organize and deploy?

“It would take the United States a while to return with a strike if they fired the first shot tonight.”

“You might have a point,” Boloki responded.  “However, if Mr. Patriot is prepared to make this declaration, I would have to say that he is prepared to make that first strike.  We just need to know where and how.  Keep your eyes on the screen!”

Moments seemed like hours in the Situation Room, but the next few hours were just moments for Mr. Patriot as he activated the militias around the nation.

Knowing that the government would be watching for unusual movement and unusual gatherings via satellite, the outposts knew to keep movements in small numbers and to insure that rally points were either common parking lots in malls or warehouses, or in well wooded areas, being very careful to not collect too many too quickly to avoid any heat signature exposure.

Within the militias, there were serious adrenaline rushes going on. As hundreds of thousands of cars moved quietly along the city streets and country roads of America, they parked in designated places for the first volley to be fired.

Chosen snipers, poised in strategic places, discreetly hidden from view, yet in full view of their potential targets.  Some were atop tall buildings, draped in concrete colored camouflage, some on grassy knolls in ghillie suits, and others awaiting their target in commercial vans and larger vehicles parked just outside along the streets.

Timing was critical as others of the militias gathered in by the thousands in areas where they could be invisible in plain sight.  Malls near government sites were popular gathering places.  The largest rally points were anywhere the NATO Forces were lodging at the moment.  Ensuing firefights with the NATO Forces were directed to be the first actual battle locations by the majority of the American Militia.

Coordinating this logistically was done by county and state militias.  With multiple locations in every state, the culmination of enough militia was imperative to be done discretely enough to not be noticed by satellite or by NATO Forces.

Everybody knew that the next two days were going to be a make or break event for the freedom of the United States of America.  If they were successful, they would be heroes, but should they fail, they would be hunted down as traitors.  To do what was needed was imperative with no collateral damage or at least very little collateral damage to the ordinary citizens.

The citizens were a people that were trapped.  Not armed with the knowledge of what was going on in their world and not armed with a weapon.  They had resigned themselves to be mindless puppets of the government, believing that they Federal Government was going to be their keeper and protector, when in fact, the government had become their oppressor.

With taxes going through the roof, political claims of a better living, and free everything, they had been lulled into a stupor of acceptance.  George Orwell’s Big Brother had taken over and people seemed to be completely oblivious to it.

At exactly five in the afternoon, shots were heard all around the beltway.  The phones were on fire as Congress member after Congress member fell to a sniper’s round.  By five thirty, eighty-one members of Congress and the Senate lay dead in the street or at their home.  All were Socialist Value Party or Democrat.  By seven o’clock in the evening, there were sixty-nine more.

NATO Forces were called out immediately only to be confronted by the American Militia, with greater numbers and more weapons than they could imagine.  With many lives at stake in the first few seconds of the activation call. Hundreds of thousands of the NATO Forces dropped their weapons and surrendered all over the nation.

At the stroke of eight that evening, the tally of Socialist Value Party and Democrats holding a federal office that had been killed was now three hundred-eighty-two.

But also, at the stoke of eight o’clock, shots rang out all over the fifty states.  Socialist Value Party members and Democrats in the state level were being eliminated.  By nine o’clock, nine-hundred-fourteen had been eliminated.

As the clock struck nine in the evening, the whole nation was on high alert.  Politicians rushed to their respective governing hall to see who was still alive and what they were to do about this.

What unnerved them the most was the total lack of NATO Forces.  Only a few platoons were still active, and they had no commanding officers to lead.

What the politicians didn’t realize was that they were being herded into a controlled space where they were easier to locate.  State and County official were standing on the steps of the state capital buildings and the local politicians were at the county court houses, perfectly lined up like a shooting gallery, and that is exactly what happened.

By ten in the evening, there were more than one-thousand-six-hundred dead politicians, all members of the Socialist Value Party and the Democrat Party.

Secret Service moved President Boloki into the Safe Room of the White House and set the guard.

President Boloki grabbed her phone and dialed Mr. Bullard of the Department of Defense.

“Mr. Bullard,” she began in her screeching excited voice, “I want the Army, Air force, Marines activated.  We need to protect our leaders and squash this attempted coup of the government.”

“Madame President,” Mr. Bullard advised her.  “You will not get any military assistance.  I have already called them, and they refuse to turn the United States military against American citizens.  They will face court martial before they take up arms against Americans.

“I tried to get a new set Joint Chiefs lined up, but nobody, not even the SVP of Democrat Generals will take the job.  I guess they like their life more than the position.”

Local law enforcement, sheriff’s offices, and the state patrols stayed out of sight.  With so many guns at work and not knowing who is behind the trigger, they felt that caution was better than another funeral.

By day’s end, one-thousand-seven-hundred National, State, and County politicians, SVP, Democrats and left leaning Republicans had been eradicated.  Any other left inclined citizen stayed at home and kept their mouth shut.  The error of their doctrines was being revealed.

The liberal news media was outraged and blasting their vitriol over the airwaves.  By eight o’clock the next morning, with sixty-four radical left media anchors among the body count, the code was revealed.

“National politicians, assassination time five pm.  State politicians, assassination time eight pm. County politicians, assassination time nine pm.  Liberal television, assassination time eight am.  Total body count, one-thousand-seven-hundred-sixty-five,” First Sergeant Worten shouted out as he ran to the Captain’s office.

“Sir, I have the code. NAT0ST3CTYT4LTV3A6210.  I broke it.  NAT is National, zero equals five and five is the time of day for the strike.  Likewise, ST stands for State, three equal eight and eight is the time.  CTY represents the County, four equals nine and nine is the time of the strike.  LTV stands for Liberal TV, three again stands for eight, which is the time.  Whereas there is no eight after midnight, eight becomes A, which is am.  The 6210 would represent the year 1765, which is the year the American Revolution began.”

“Whoever cooked up this code had something more in mind than just a specific year, even though it fits perfectly,” the captain commented.  “Something is missing.  The body count so far is one-thousand-seven-hundred-sixty-four.”

One week later, President Boloki, scrambling to reseat the majority of the Congress and Senate stepped out into the Rose Garden for a news conference.

“What has befallen this nation is the worst catastrophe in world history.  One-thousand-seven-hundred-sixty-four Americans died a hero’s death.  These were all honored members of Congress and the Senate and the combination of all fifty states and the federal government, not to mention the individual county politicians who were dutifully serving this nation.

“Whoever orchestrated this is a terrorist, a traitor and an enemy of the United States of America.  They will be hunted down and killed like the dogs they are.  I know that this sounds extreme, but I consider their actions to be far more to the extreme than that.

“I am working very hard to have all seats of the House and Senate filled with competent representatives from every state in the union.

“At this time, I will take your questions.”

“President Boloki,” asked a small lady at the front of the group of reporters, “Is there any significance to the fact that the only ones who were assassinated were those of the Socialist Value Party, the Democrat Party, or the left leaning Republicans?”

“I have no reason to believe that this was the case.  It was more likely the fact that there were more of these parties than the others,” she lied.

“Why is it that there are no SVP or Democrats willing to step into their fallen comrade’s position?” a man at the rear asked loudly.

“Because we have not caught one of the gunmen.  People are afraid to.  I, personally, do not blame them for being afraid,” President Boloki answered.

“If it was a party issue, why am I still…”

Before she could finish her sentence, a red spot instantly appeared on her forehead and a trickle of blood slid down toward her nose, while from the back of her head exploded blood and fragments of her skull splattered on every person that stood behind her.

A full two seconds later, the report of gunfire was faintly heard.

1765, the date of the start of the American Revolution was the exact number of rounds and bodies it took to finish the second revolution.

The captured NATO Forces were disarmed, disrobed and sent walking to the United Nations Building in shame, with proud and armed American men and women escorting them

No arrests were made, and no war crimes were reported.  America had a second chance to be the nation that the forefathers created.  The only question that remained was… Can America keep it this time?


© Copyright 2020 Gail-D-Prentice. All rights reserved.

Chapters

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments: