by Bobby Akart
“We think he’s waiting until his nuclear arsenal is sufficient to back us down in case we threaten to retaliate,” replied Braun. “Taking down a nation’s power grid is one thing, nukin’ the hell out of ’em is another.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” asked Secretary Gregg rhetorically. “He takes the same position as our president. Those two should get together.”
Braun reached into his coat pocket and removed a sterling silver flask. He took a swig of the brandy and offered it to Yancey, who declined.
Braun continued. “The theory is that an electromagnetic pulse attack is a nonlethal use of a nuclear weapon. It doesn’t result in direct loss of life.”
“So naïve,” muttered Secretary Gregg, who finally turned around and returned to his seat. He looked to his friend from Texas. “Billy, you haven’t had much to say thus far. I take it you’re not along for the ride.”
“That’s right, Monty. I have a proposal.”
Secretary Gregg spread his arms out in front of him. “Let’s hear it.”
“We take him out,” Yancey replied.
Secretary Gregg shrugged and then chuckled. “A first strike? The president wouldn’t even consider it.”
“No, Monty. We’ll send in a team to assassinate Kim Jong-un.”
“Come on, guys,” said Secretary Gregg. “With all due respect, the DMZ is full of the graves of commandos who’ve tried to kill the Great Leader, or Dear Leader, or any other members of the Kim dynasty for decades.”
“Hear me out, Monty,” said Yancey. “We’ve got an angle.”
“It better be a good one.”
“We’ve got a mole, an accomplice, if you will. High up and close to Kim Jong-un.”
Secretary Gregg laughed again. “Who? One of his wives? A concubine? They know nothing of his activities.”
“Nope, better than that,” replied Yancey. “His most trusted advisor, friend, and family member. Someone who wants the reins but who is interested in another path for the Hermit Kingdom.”
Secretary Gregg suddenly got very serious. He sat forward in his chair and looked both men in the eye.
“Are you kidding me? You turned little sis, Kim Yo-jong. No way!”
“We have,” replied Yancey. “She will work with us to eliminate her brother from power so that she can lead the country. There are conditions, namely related to autonomy and protection from the south and China. But we can make it happen.”
“Why doesn’t she just do it herself?” asked Secretary Gregg.
“It has to be from the outside; otherwise her transition would be doomed from the beginning,” replied Braun.
“When?”
“With your approval, we’ll set the plan in motion for immediate implementation,” replied Braun.
Secretary Gregg reached for another cigar, cut off the end and lit it, allowing a cloud of smoke to float into the air, reminiscent of a nuclear explosion.
“Let’s put a plan together!”
PART TWO
Chapter 18
November 6
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Roscoe Pops Armstrong, a lifelong teetotaler, had a saying—there are only two liquids in my life, water and oil. My body is made up of one, and usually I’m held hostage by the other. Tens of thousands of wells dotted the Texas landscape, some drilled in areas the Spaniards once declared to be desplobado, or no-man’s land. These parts of Texas were so dry nothing could survive because they lacked one crucial element of life—water.
Borden County, Texas, nearly a third of which was made up of the Armstrong Ranch, was part of the Southern High Plains, an area encompassing eastern New Mexico and into the Western Panhandles of Oklahoma and Texas.
In most years, the geographic region receives about twenty-four inches of rain. The vast majority of the precipitation on the Southern High Plains never reaches the ground, having been lost to evaporation in the upper atmosphere. The water-challenged plains are dominated by tall prairie grasses, creosote bushes and mesquite plants. It was the visionary rancher who bought up land along the meandering rivers and lakes of West Texas to irrigate their fields and provide ground water to their wells.
When Pops purchased this part of the Armstrong Ranch in the late fifties at a bank foreclosure, the water levels of the river were much higher. A single windmill stood on the tract and was restored by Pops in the sixties.
Only sixty feet from the river, the well had been drilled to seventy feet, which was great news for Armstrong Ranch. With the ground water at such a shallow depth, they would be able to expand their oil production as well as provide enough water to expand the grazing areas of their steers. He was able to triple the size of this herd.
Major insisted on keeping the windmill and the well operable despite the fact it pumped a meager five gallons per minute into the water trough that fed Miss Lucy’s barnyard critters. He considered the windmill and its riverside location to be a sacred spot, one that symbolized the waters necessary to sustain the lives within his charge.
Over the years, the river began to recede as more landowners upriver toward Lubbock began to divide up the resource and depleted it for their own ranching operations and oil wells. This issue began to create friction between the ranchers. Ranchers who had mineral rights were able to sell that precious water for a dollar a barrel to an oil company for use in drilling. Each well could use as much as two million gallons of water, the state’s rarest of assets.
Soon the state established laws and guidelines to prevent the unlawful overuse of the precious resource. The Armstrong family, through Pops, stood at the forefront of the effort and used their influence on the Texas land commissioner to marshal this precious asset in Borden County.
As a result, they became stewards of the Colorado River in the county, and the state granted them an additional fourteen hundred acres, which encompassed nearly half of Natural Dam Lake. In exchange, the Armstrongs agreed to keep the river flowing into the lake free of obstructions and debris.
Major and Cooper stood next to one another under the branches of a cottonwood, marveling at the workmanship of the beaver colony. The water had backed up, creating a half-acre lake that caused the water levels to rise near the windmill.
“It’s a shame we have to do this,” started Cooper. “I wish we could harness the energy of these little guys. They get more work done in a day than half a dozen of Preacher’s boys.”
“C’mon now, lay off the ranch hands, unless you wanna do their work for ’em,” said Major, who had always been appreciative of the Armstrong employees. He prided himself in creating loyal, long-term ranch hands, rare in this day of low unemployment across Texas.
Labor had never been a problem for him as a result. For many ranches operating on thin margins, there was the temptation to hire illegals and pay them cash. Major didn’t want to embarrass himself and the family by going against the governor. She’d provided his family too many accommodations in the past, such as the land grant for half of the lake, to insult her over saving a few bucks on labor.
“What’s the plan, Daddy?” asked Riley, who had just arrived in the farm truck, a beat-up Chevy that was used to drop hay bales around the ranch in remote locations. “Are we gonna blast ’em?”
“What?” asked Major. “Do you wanna blast the beavers or the dam?”
Riley kicked at some rocks in the dust near his feet, clearly feeling the brunt of his father’s admonishing tone. “Nah, Daddy. It’s just that I was reading up about explosives on the internet last night. Did y’all know that you can purchase everything you need to make a bomb on Amazon?”
“Come on, Riley,” said Cooper with a laugh.
“It’s true, Coop. There are certain ingredients that are innocent on their own, but when combined together, they produce explosives. You can buy the ingredients to make black powder, thermite, steel ball bearings for shrapnel, igniters, and even remote detonators.”
“Son, we have plenty of explosives ar
ound here to deal with prairie dogs and tree stumps.”
Cooper added, “Momma hates us blowin’ up the prairie dogs, but I swear the little devils are born pregnant. It’s amazing how fast they breed.”
“Well, not to mention they carry diseases like the plague,” said Major. “That’s the last thing we need around here.”
“No kiddin’,” said Cooper, turning his attention back to the beaver dam. “That ammonium nitrate does the trick. Why don’t we just use it on the beaver dam?”
Major looked behind him and around the gently sloped landscape that rose up from the river. “Because Miss Lucy threatened me within an inch of my life this morning that we better not take out any beavers in the process. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was out here somewhere, watching.”
“I’m tellin’ y’all, we could blow up the dam with those ingredients from Amazon and not have to use the big stuff like what we keep in the shed,” interjected Riley.
Major put his arm around Riley’s shoulders. “Son, I’m no expert on using the internet like you and your momma. Google is my friend when I want to research something. I have my favorite websites I visit to get the news from different perspectives, knowing full well you can’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
“I know that, Daddy.”
“Here’s something I hope you’ve learned,” Major continued. “There’s something on these websites called cookies. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes, sir. It’s when you visit a site, the internet sites kind of follow you around, suggesting similar websites or advertisers. Why do you ask?”
Major stifled a laugh. “Well, son, are you desirous of importing yourself a Korean bride? I mean, ain’t we got enough pretty Texas girls to choose from?”
Cooper crashed against the side of the truck, laughing hysterically. He could barely spit out the words. “Korean. Brides. Really?”
“No, well, it’s not like that, y’all,” protested Riley. “Once, I accidentally clicked on a picture of this girl. I mean, dang it, Coop, shut up!”
Cooper was still laughing so hard he had to wipe the tears away from his face.
Riley took off his cowboy hat and slapped his leg with it. His face was beet red with embarrassment.
“Now, listen up, boys,” Major began as he tried to diffuse the situation before Riley got mad at his brother. “Miss Lucy has lived with a family of boys since the day I married her. And that includes your sister, who’s pert near a boy herself. She’s seen plenty from all of us, and she decided early on that being surrounded by cowboys was the life she wanted. But do me a favor, stay off the Korean bride websites, and know this, the first half-naked woman that shows up on Miss Lucy’s iPad will result in a row none of us wanna be a part of, am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Riley sheepishly. He always took criticism hard.
“Coop, that applies to you as well, son.”
“Loud and clear, Daddy.” Cooper gave his brother a playful shove. “Let’s get to work. How do you wanna do this?”
The rumble of heavy machinery could be heard coming over the hill. Years ago, Major had gone to an equipment auction and invested in a backhoe as well as a Bobcat. These became indispensable tools on the ranch for fencing, spreading manure in the garden, and now, beaver dam modification.
“Boys, we’re gonna leave the dam in place,” started Major, who quickly continued when he saw the puzzled looks on the boys’ faces. “My agreement with the state is to keep the water flowing in the lake. It isn’t to blow up beaver dams. Do you see how much water has accumulated upriver in a short period of time?”
The water had risen several feet, causing a newly formed lake of nearly an acre. As the water rose, the beavers built the structure higher.
“I know, it’s amazing,” said Riley.
Preacher and the ranch hands pulled alongside the farm truck and began to unload ten-foot sections of PVC pipe.
“I’m always thinking ahead, boys,” said Major. “You never know when circumstances might dictate that we control the flow of water for our own benefit. Governments change their minds, and you can find yourself at their mercy. I think it would be wise to take advantage of what our beaver friends have done, and prepare for unforeseen events.”
Cooper turned to watch the guys unload. “What’s all that stuff for?”
“Today, we’re gonna install what’s called a beaver pipe. They’re usually used to prevent beavers from damming up the water. We’ll install it for that purpose, except with a slight modification. If the time comes that we need to shut off the downriver flow, we’ll be able to cap the pipe and allow the water to accumulate here, for the benefit of our ranch.”
“How’s it work?” asked Riley.
“We’ll use the backhoe to cut a notch in the beaver dam near the bank. This will work to drain the water levels into the lake. Then, we’ll insert the pipes into the notch and secure them with steel fence posts to create a gradual drop from the higher ground toward the lake. On the river side, we’ll cap the pipe at a level that allows for the water to back up and create our lake.”
“Won’t the beavers try to repair the breach?” asked Cooper.
“I’m countin’ on it. Once it’s installed, we’ll stand out of the way and let the beavers do the rest. As the water begins to flow through the notch, the beavers will quickly move to stop the flow over and around the pipes, sealing them under the dam. The water level will rise once again, and when it reaches our pipe, it will begin to flow down toward the lake. We will have built a new lake, yet allowed the free flow of water to be in compliance with the state mandate.”
Cooper shook his head in disbelief. “This is brilliant, and just in time for the winter snows, which fill the river anyway.”
“Here’s the thing, boys,” started Major. “Your momma and I have adopted a mindset. A way of thinking that goes beyond living our day-to-day lives. It involves planning, preparation, and in a way, prognostication.”
“Like a crystal ball?” asked Riley.
“I guess you could say that,” replied his dad. “It’s like adopting a certain mentality, I guess. Like most aspects of your life, it comes down to making choices. Years ago, we committed to a self-sustainable, preparedness lifestyle. We took the best of Lucy’s homesteading techniques, coupled it with preparedness tips I’d picked up over the years, and combined it into a well-organized plan designed to keep us safe if something bad happens around us.”
“Bad, like catastrophic?” asked Cooper.
“That’s right, Coop. Listen, I’ve always allowed you boys to give me a hard time about watching the news and keeping up with world events. But the fact of the matter is we live in dangerous times. Our nation faces many threats, both man-made from countries who hate us and natural disasters. Miss Lucy and I recognized years ago, especially after 9/11, that our personal lives are subject to unexpected setbacks and our world is fraught with danger. We decided then to protect our family against all possible threats. We love you boys, as well as Duncan and Palmer. If the crap hits the fan, we’ll be ready. Make sense?”
Cooper and Riley looked at one another and nodded. The boys began to understand where their father was coming from.
“Here’s the thing, guys. The day before catastrophic events occurred—from Pearl Harbor, to 9/11, to that massive tsunami in Japan—folks were going about their daily lives, not giving a second thought to what might turn their world upside down. All I’m saying is that when it comes to catastrophic events, we never know when the day before is the day before. So we prepare for tomorrow.”
Chapter 19
November 6
Texas Gubernatorial Debate
KERA-TV Studios
Dallas, Texas
After a long day of swiping away pesky beavers and sloshing through the muddy bottom of the Colorado River, the beaver pipe was installed, and the guys found their way back to the house. It was eight o’clock by the time they’d cleaned up and finished dinner.
Miss Lucy entered the family room with mugs of coffee and hot chocolate for everyone, as the temperatures that night dipped down into the mid-forties.
Major had tuned the DirecTV to the local Lubbock station to settle in for the final debate between Governor Burnett and her opponent. Governor Burnett, as the incumbent enjoyed a comfortable lead in the polls and barring an unforced error, would easily win on election day.
The debate had been uneventful and lacked a game-changing moment. The narrators, all Dallas television news hosts, had been relatively fair in their questioning. The next issue to discuss, Texas power grid independence, was intended to show the divide between the two candidates on the future of ERCOT, the Electric Reliability Council of Texas.
“Governor Burnett, this question is for you,” said the moderator.
Governor Burnett smiled and readied herself by taking a drink of water.
“ERCOT manages the flow of electricity to twenty-eight million Texans, or ninety percent of the state. This independent system manages forty-six thousand miles of transmission lines and nearly six hundred generation units. Many experts have claimed that ERCOT’s ability to produce cost-effective energy with a low environmental impact is admirable, but that the state, and you in particular, should be chastised for not sharing with others, namely the western and eastern interconnected grid, which serves much of the continental United States. How do you respond, Governor?”
“Well, it’s no secret that Texas has a bit of an independent streak,” started Governor Burnett to the chuckle of the small audience packed into the newly built auditorium at KERA-TV just for this purpose. “I have to give credit to prior administrations for following this path of independence in creating a power grid that was not beholden to the federal government. When President Roosevelt signed the revised Federal Power Act in 1935, yet another in a long line of socialist power grabs, pardon the pun, in response to the Great Depression, Texas utilities came together and avoided crossing state lines. Throughout our history as a state, we’ve believed that freedom from federal regulation was a cherished goal. Our state has been built upon a mindset of self-reliance, and the energy companies in those early days relied upon our abundance of coal, natural gas, and petroleum resources to fuel our power plants.”
