by Bobby Akart
Chapter 35
November 13
Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Yesterday, the last of the dirt was pushed on top of the Armstrongs’ new underground bunker. One of the ranch hands maneuvered their Bobcat around the six-inch-square barn poles that had been set in cement. Stacks of lumber, roofing material, and paint awaited the completion of the dirt moving.
Cooper slapped his dad on the back. “Daddy, you’d never know it was there except for the air vents sticking up through the ground, and the hatch, of course.”
“I agree, Coop,” said Major, who then pointed toward the air vents sticking up through the ground. “Do you notice how I’ve positioned those to come up in between the barn supports?”
“Yeah, do you plan on building around them?”
“Exactly. This setup is relatively impenetrable, but why make it easy on someone who’s trying to attack us. I plan on extending that metal ductwork through the walls of the barn and cover them up on the inside as well. I doubt anyone would notice them protruding through the roof.”
“What about the hatch?” asked Cooper.
“It will be in one of the horse stalls, probably dedicated to a pony. We’ll cover it with hay, and once we’re inside, a pony will replace the hay by pushing it around with his hooves. It’s just another form of concealment.”
Lucy and Palmer emerged from the house and joined the guys. Riley had taken the new Daniel Defense rifle out for a test drive. On the eastern edge of the Armstrong Ranch, a ravine opened up as the plateau began to break up slightly. It was an ideal place to practice shooting targets from both short and long distances. Major impressed upon the kids to keep their shooting outside the ravine to a minimum. Even though they were isolated, sound carried, and he didn’t want any passersby thinking they were running a gunnery range.
“Did you guys go inside to see what Palmer and I accomplished?” asked Lucy as she grabbed her husband around the waist. The Bobcat was parked, and a crew of a dozen men began to bang on the boards. Within minutes, the precut Texas red oak planks were creating walls on two sides of the barn structure.
“Not yet,” replied Major. “You wanna give us the nickel tour?”
Palmer led the way and groaned as she lifted the heavy steel hatch. A rush of new-home-smelling air hit them as they climbed down the metal stairs to the bottom.
“We’ve tried to stock the shelter with two weeks for starters because we weren’t sure how much room we’d have,” started Lucy. She walked over to a control panel and started the generator, which was in a separate underground container, complete with its own air intake and exhaust system.
The generator was a tri-fuel model, which used propane, natural gas, and solar power. The propane tanks were behind the house, and the solar panels were to be installed on the roof of the barn. A natural gas well was two hundred feet away, but a trench was created and a flex-pipe attached to the well. It was then run into the bunker’s hole to power the generator. This provided three fuel options to keep the power on while underground.
“Our meals will consist of a two-week supply of primarily compact, nonperishable foods,” continued Lucy. “We also have protein, vitamin, and mineral supplements, including meal-replacement shakes. I tried to focus on the dietary supplements to make up for the lost calorie intake that we’re used to.”
Palmer added, “Daddy, we’ve also stocked up on medical supplies, especially potassium iodide, which everyone will take in the event of a nuclear attack. Potassium iodide blocks radioactive fallout from entering the thyroid. It basically fills up the thyroid with good iodine and prevents the radioactive iodine from coming in.”
“Whoa, sis. I’m impressed!” exclaimed Cooper, who reached into a cabinet and pulled out a packet of IOSAT potassium iodide tablets.
“Thanks, Coop. Momma’s got me hooked on this preppin’ thing. Those IOSAT packets provide us fourteen days of protection, more than we need, from what we’ve read.”
Cooper returned the box to the cabinet, looked around and began walking through the two interconnected structures. He found the closets and cabinets stocked full of water, food, guns, and ammo. “I see that you guys have thought of everything.”
“We haven’t put in any extra clothing yet,” said Lucy. “Because our seasons vary greatly here, we’ll rotate out winter and summer clothes in the fall and spring. Your daddy says we won’t have a lot of time once we receive notice of a nuclear attack. Right, dear?”
“Most likely less than thirty minutes,” Major replied. “Here’s the good news. Borden County is not likely to be a target of a nuclear strike.”
The group chuckled as he motioned for them to sit around a small dining table surrounded by an L-shaped bench seat and two folding chairs.
Major continued. “Even though Riley’s not here, I think this is a good time to talk about what is possible. We won’t have much time once we receive word of an attack. Think about how we spend our days. We’re scattered all over nearly ten thousand acres. In some parts of the ranch, cell service is spotty. So we need to do some planning and even have some dry runs.”
“Like a fire drill, right?” asked Palmer.
“Pretty much,” replied Major. “If we lived in a major city like Dallas, we’d only have about ten minutes to get away from the blast. Here, the bigger problem is the lethal fallout of radiation, which may fall on our ranch due to the prevailing winds.”
“But you said we wouldn’t be a target,” interrupted Cooper.
“That’s true, son. However, there are major military installations to our south and west that might be targeted. Depending on the time of year, the positioning of the jet stream, and wind currents, we might get dusted.”
“Is it like dust?” asked Palmer.
“The most hazardous fallout particles are visible to the naked eye and resemble fine sand. That’s what you have to avoid.”
Cooper added, “Daddy, when the wind blows here in the spring and summer, you’d think we’re in the desert.”
“That’s true, and so I don’t put everyone in a panic, I ordered personal radiation detectors for everyone to carry in their wallets or pockets. They’re more reliable than nothing, but to provide us an extra comfort level, I ordered several different types of radiation-monitoring devices to help overcome false readings.”
Lucy added this, “Here’s the way we look at it. If there’s a possibility of a nuclear attack, we can gather everyone up and get into the safety of the bunker. If nothing happens, we had a good practice drill and go on about our day. If there is an attack, we’ll live while, sadly, those who are unprepared won’t.”
Chapter 36
November 13
Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
“Are you impressed at how well the kids have taken to our plans?” asked Major as he and Lucy headed into Midland again. They had requested KW Arms order the second AR-10 for rush delivery. Also, Major wanted to stop by Walmart and pick up some more ammunition. Their last stop was to conduct some prepper banking.
“Very,” replied Lucy. “Now I kinda regret not getting the kids more involved in the detailed plans you and I have implemented over the years. In a way, I still look at them as teenagers who were only interested in ropin’ calves and killin’ rattlesnakes.”
“I agree, but I think they’re getting involved at the right time. If we pushed it on them as teens, they might’ve accused us of cryin’ wolf and dismissed the whole concept of preparedness.”
Lucy sat quietly for a moment as they drove the final few miles into Midland. Finally, she asked the question that had been troubling her.
“You pay attention to the news more than I do,” she began. “Also, you just said they were gettin’ involved at the right time. Dear, why do you think this is the right time? And don’t you dare try to protect me, okay?”
“Okay, deal,” Major replied. “You’ve got your woman’s intuition thing, well, a man gets a fee
ling in his gut, you know?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve been around politics enough to know that you can’t trust any of them regardless of whether they label themselves with an R or a D. Both sides have an agenda, which would surprise the public if the politicians were honest about it.”
Lucy chuckled and stated her feelings. “I wish they’d all stay home and do nothin’. We’d be better off.”
Major slowed for the first red light entering Midland and turned on his right blinker to head towards Walmart.
“I think there’s a bigger problem that most people in America sense as well, but they can’t quite put their fingers on it.”
“What’s that?”
“I firmly believe our government is being run by wealthy and powerful individuals or business interests that have their power in Washington regardless of who’s in charge of the White House or Congress. Some folks call it a shadow government.”
“Sounds mysterious and conspiratorial,” added Lucy. “Have you been reading too many internet articles on InfoWars or by that crazy Dave Hodges guy?”
“No, seriously. I know the difference between what’s real and what’s fake. Just follow me on this. Neither one of us has ever held a position in the government of Borden County, nor have we wanted to, right?”
“Yup, thanks but no thanks,” said Lucy with a laugh.
“That said, though, is there any doubt I could drive up to Gail and tell any one of those county officials what I wanted, and they’d jump to give it to me, wouldn’t they?”
Lucy sat up in her seat and nodded. “Of course. You donate to their campaigns, you’re the largest taxpayer, and the biggest landowner by far. They should jump when you come callin’.”
Major continued. “You’ve made my point, although the comparison is on a much smaller scale. I’ve never been elected to anything. I earned a little respect as a lawman, and I’ve treated the folks who run the county well. But I shouldn’t have any real power, yet I do.”
Lucy pointed to an available parking space and Major found his way into it. Walmart was packed with shoppers seeking early Black Friday deals and fixin’s for Thanksgiving.
“I see your point. There are people around the country who are like you, but their influence is on Washington and the people who work there.”
Major shut off the truck and sat there for a moment. “Right. It doesn’t matter who we elect, the people who control the levers of power could live in Boston or Silicon Valley or even Texas.”
Lucy then asked, “What does this all lead you to believe? Why are you suddenly stepping up our preps?”
“Again, it’s just my gut feeling, but I get the sense somebody is pushing us toward a war with North Korea. Regardless of what the president may want, I think powerful people would benefit from a war with Kim, regardless of the consequences to all of us.”
*****
Major and Lucy loaded up on more supplies for their new bunker, and each of them made separate ammunition purchases in the gun department. The rash of lone-wolf terrorist attacks and random violent assaults by mentally disturbed people had raised awareness for retailers when selling large amounts of ammo to a single purchaser. For that reason, Major spread out his purchases between KW Arms, Walmart, and half a dozen online ammunition retailers.
After picking up the second Daniel Defense rifle, they stopped by the bank and withdrew nine thousand dollars, intentionally staying under the ten-thousand-dollar withdrawal amount that triggered the filing by the bank of a currency transaction report with the Internal Revenue Service. The Armstrongs hadn’t been audited in many years, and Major was careful not to garner their attention.
Their last stop was The Vault, a statewide precious metals dealer who had recently opened a branch in Midland. Major had begun to do business with them shortly after they opened, occasionally purchasing bags of junk silver—pre-1965 dimes, quarters, and half dollars.
Prior to 1965, the U.S. Treasury minted coins that contained ninety percent silver and only ten percent copper. To save money, the U.S. Mint changed the mix, and soon coinage became a mix of aluminum and copper.
Major’s concern was the potential collapse of the economy in the event of a catastrophic event. If the economy were to falter, the value of the dollar would plummet, creating an inflationary environment. He believed the public would turn to a barter economy, where goods and services were traded based upon their perceived values to one another.
For example, Major might trade a calf for a horse. Or a farm tractor for another Bobcat. Over time, a fair price would be established in trading posts around the country, much like it was done in the eighteen hundreds.
Many online prepping resources discussed using ammo or guns as valuable barter items. Major had laughed at length about this with Lucy one night before bed. He’d told her the last thing he was gonna do was give another man a gun in trade just so he could use it to come back and kill his family someday.
Major liked the concept of pre-1965 silver because it would be universally recognized as real, and its value could be easily established. The only downside, depending on the size of the purchase he planned on making, bags of silver were bulky and visible. He needed to purchase some gold as well.
Major had phoned ahead to request half-ounce American Gold Eagle coins. He’d researched the options extensively and found the American Gold Eagle, the official gold bullion coin of the United States, to be the most widely circulated.
He checked gold prices, and they’d dropped slightly to eighteen hundred dollars an ounce, making the value of each half-ounce gold coin nine hundred dollars. Major took the cash inside and suggested Lucy wait in the truck. He said it wouldn’t take long.
When he returned, he provided her a small ziplock bag with ten gold coins in it. She turned it around and around and then upside down. She began to laugh.
“Um, do you want me to count it? Major, is this it, really?”
He started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. “Yes, ma’am. You are holding nine thousand dollars in your hand. Don’t spend it all in one place.”
“Ten coins, nine thousand dollars?”
He replied proudly, “Today, yes. Tomorrow, after the end of the world as we know it, it might be worth ten times that, or more.”
“What are you gonna do with it? Bury it in the backyard?”
“Miss Lucy, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. Let me tell you about my plans for buried survival caches around the ranch.”
Chapter 37
November 13
The Taeryong River
Near Kusong, North Korea
It was ten in the evening when the men reached the bridge at the Taeryong River. They’d stuck to the road into Kusong as far as they dared before Duncan began looking for locations to hide the truck. He slowly eased the dark green Sungri farm truck off the paved road. The nearly forty-year-old garbage truck turned farm vehicle rattled and creaked as it descended a slight embankment towards a rutted trail created by farm tractors. The four-tire rear axle barely fit in the deep tracks as Duncan moved the steering wheel back and forth to avoid low-lying branches.
They’d encountered no problems on their way to Kusong and commented more than once at how desolate the landscape appeared. Most rural areas of North Korea did not have power.
From satellite images, it was apparent that the despotic dynasties of North Korea had done nothing to advance the living conditions of their people. When asked about the lack of power and electricity for their people, the North Korean ambassador to the United Nations once responded that North Koreans were a proud and resilient people whose worth was not measured by flashy lights.
In their brief period within the DPRK, Duncan and Park observed sadness and despair in a world of quiet poverty. The people of North Korea existed, but they did not live. The men reaffirmed their commitment to succeeding at removing the obstacle that stood in the way of providing the people of North Korea a better
life.
Duncan etched a visual of the next few hundred feet into his mind and cut off the headlights to avoid detection. Shortly thereafter, Park jumped out of the truck and led Duncan deeper into the woods until he found a place to back the truck in for safekeeping.
Satisfied they’d avoided curious eyes, the two men walked deeper into the woods along the path to see where it led. It eventually narrowed and became more overgrown. It was the proverbial road to nowhere, which suited their purposes perfectly.
They returned to the truck, and Park began to toss the grain sacks over the sides to get to the secret compartment hidden underneath the truck bed. Duncan powered up the display on his Apple Watch to check their coordinates on the global positioning satellite app. They were four miles northwest of the launch site and approximately twenty-two miles from the extraction point on the island of Sinmi-do in the Korean Bay. His days of running the USS Jack H. Lucas with Captain Abbey would pay off in the next couple of days.
“Okay, I’m there,” announced Park as he leaned over the wood rails of the truck to get Duncan’s attention. Park returned to his hands and knees on the steel bed of the truck, fumbling around for the latches to open the hidden compartment. Duncan climbed into the truck bed and illuminated his watch’s display. In the darkness, it worked like a floodlight.
“There,” said Duncan, pointing toward two rusted hex-nuts near Park’s feet. “See the pattern? There’s three on each side.”
“Great,” said Park, pointing toward Duncan’s watch. “Does that thing turn into a wrench, too?”
Duncan ignored the question and tried one of the hex-nuts. With a little elbow grease, he got the rusted nuts to turn. Park tried as well, and within a minute, the compartment lid was loose, and they carefully lifted the steel plate out of the way.
