Stolen Liberty: Behind the Curtain

by Thomas A. Watson

  “Is his family in custody?”

  “As of now, no. They weren’t on the detain list,” Gibson explained as men started coming out of the house.

  “Have you had any other trouble from other executives of the NRA or ACLU?” Rhonda asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes, along with the members of the NRA. They don’t understand that the Second Amendment, like all rights of the Constitution, can be suspended for the greater good in times of crisis or at Homeland’s request. We have done it repeatedly and now they think we can’t anymore,” Gibson said while more officers came out of the house. Then, officers came out escorting a middle-aged man in handcuffs and ankle shackles in the ‘perp walk’. With a busted lip and swollen right eye, the man’s clothes were ripped and barely hanging on him as he continued to fight against the agents.

  When they paraded the man past, Rhonda moved from Gibson and thrust her microphone into Mr. Benson’s face. “Mr. Benson, what caused you to finally surrender?” she shouted out and Mr. Benson suddenly stopped fighting the agents and turned to Rhonda.

  “I didn’t surrender! I ran out of bullets!” he bellowed as the agents dragged him to a black van and tossed him in.

  “Yep,” Randy grinned and nodded, “That’s why I’m a member of the NRA.”

  “They killed the president of the ACLU,” Oliver said, staring at the TV. “They claimed he fought back by shooting at agents, but he was the biggest anti-gun lawyer the ACLU had.”

  “Die fighting or under the boot,” Randy sighed, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “What’s with emptying the pantry?”

  “Hook up the flatbed trailer so we can load this, and you can take it to the retreat,” Oliver said.

  “Okay, but where is yours and Momma’s stuff?”

  Oliver looked into Randy’s eyes and Randy felt his knees get weak. “Son, your mom and I are staying here. We can’t be living in the backwoods. Hell, we are both on medications and if this doesn’t end soon, we would be a burden on the group,” Oliver said.

  “Pops, come on now!” Cody cried out, moving over beside Randy, who was catatonic. “You and Mom need to come with us. You were in the military and both are members of the NRA.”

  “Cody, Lena and I are almost seventy. We aren’t in danger, but you two and the others are,” Oliver told him firmly.

  Lena turned away from the TV and wiped tears off her cheeks. “This will blow over in a month or two, but Oliver and I have to go get medicine,” she said and patted Cody’s cheek. She turned to Randy and smiled at him. “Don’t make momma repeat herself, load this up, and you two get. We will be fine if you two aren’t here. We’ll just tell them you left.”

  “Mom,” Randy protested, and Lena held up her hand.

  “Randy, we taught you better manners than that. Now if this lasts longer, we’ll try to get more medicine so if we need to, we can join you,” Lena smiled at him. “Now, we don’t know how long you have, so move.”

  Reaching out, Randy hugged his mom tight. “I’ll check on you,” he mumbled.

  “No, son. They might watch the house,” Oliver said as Randy released his mom. No sooner than Randy released his hug, Cody latched Lena in a tight hug.

  “You and Pops stay safe,” Cody said in a breaking voice, fighting not to cry.

  “Oh, shush,” Lena said, hugging him tight. “You don’t worry about us. We are just old country folk and they won’t mess with us.”

  Randy hugged his dad and then Cody did. “Son, hook the flatbed to your Blazer and the covered cargo trailer to your work truck. We’ll load them, and you and Cody can take them to the retreat. Then you can ride Robbie’s dirt bike back. I’ll load the horses up to my truck and Cody can drive his car back, and you can take my truck with the horses,” Oliver instructed.

  “Dad, that’s your new truck and it has the diesel tank in the bed,” Randy protested.

  “My old one works just as well,” Oliver said, smiling. “I’ll just drive the tractors up here to refuel them.”

  With a heavy heart, Randy and Cody went outside to hook up the trailers and Lena turned to Oliver. “I’m not being taken from our land,” she vowed, holding her chin high.

  “After we get them gone we will set up for a fight, but I think they will leave us be with the boys gone. Remember, we are going to tell them the boys went to turn themselves in,” Oliver said.

  Walking over, Lena wrapped her arms around him. “We can’t let them find where the family goes,” Lena said softly. “They killed a man who everyone knows didn’t have a gun and announced it publicly. I don’t think they will feel restrained because we are senior citizens.”

  “Lena, we would be a burden on them in a few months and if this goes on that long, that would be just the time it will be getting hard on them,” Oliver reminded her, then hugged her tight.

  “I know, and I agree that we should stay, but they won’t make me talk,” Lena stated, burrowing her face in Oliver’s chest. “If they take me, they can make me talk.”

  Reaching down, Oliver lifted her chin to look at him. “If it comes to that, we won’t run out of bullets. They will have to kill us,” he vowed.

  Hearing a truck back up, they released their hugs and moved to the table and started moving supplies to the trailer. Each said a silent prayer that this would end soon, and the boys could come home.

  In two hours, Randy and Cody met at the trucks after loading up. “I disabled the OnStar,” Cody told him. “Turn your phone off and leave it here with Mom and Pop. In case the others call,” he said and handed Randy a cheap cell phone. “I gave the number to Mom and Pop, it’s a disposable phone. I think you should keep it off and only turn it on every few hours to check for messages, in case they are tracking cell towers.”

  Too emotionally drained to question Cody, Randy nodded before taking the new phone and climbing in his work truck, and they were soon heading south to the retreat.

  Randy’s work truck was a small rolling machine shop he used to work on sites where he was needed. It was a one-and-a-half-ton truck with workboxes loaded with tools. There was a small vertical milling machine, CNC lathe, along with a welder and other tools of his trade.

  Never in his life did Randy think he had that much stuff in his house that he thought he might need. Emptying his gun safe, Randy had over thirty guns and almost that many at the retreat, but before he let the government take them, he would melt the damn things down.

  Driving down the highway, Randy grinned, thinking of Cody loading the computer he had set up in his room at Randy’s house. Then he’d chuckled at watching Cody load all the game platforms along with a thirty-inch flat screen TV. Cody only had his XD and AR which he carried with him in his car when he moved from house to house. The rest of Cody’s guns were at the retreat.

  The retreat was the only real place Cody called ‘his’. Granted, he had his own area and room at each of the three’s homes, but that small cabin and storage containers at the retreat held most of Cody’s possessions.

  Each of the group kept a majority of their shooting gear at the retreat, but Randy never realized just how much gear he’d had at his house. When he’d opened a storage box, Randy had found more of his prosthetics that he had quit using but he took them anyway. He had two more like the one he was wearing, and they were the best. The others he could work on and make them almost identical to the ones he liked.

  Reaching up, he turned on the radio and the announcer was listing more cities that had riots. Surprisingly, New York wasn’t listed, but L.A. had so many fires burning, the fire department had called on the forestry service to start air drops across the city until two tankers were shot up.

  Feeling disgusted, Randy punched the CD player and listened to rock. “Book, Blaster, you boys better keep your shit wired tight,” he mumbled and settled into the seat.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chicago

  Still on hold for Kristi, Robbie set the handset in his lap and hit the speaker button. Light jazz played from
the holding call.

  “We have to make a decision soon, Robbie. It’s going to get worse by the sounds of it.” Jerome scanned the empty sidewalk in front of the house.

  “Clark, can you go turn on the TV in the living room and crank the sound up, so we can hear it out here? I want to hear if the news outlets are making any announcements,” Robbie said as he shifted in the chair and felt the extra magazine dig into his side from the holder clipped to his belt.

  Clark didn’t reply, but he did go inside and find a local station playing a sitcom. The canned laughter grated on Robbie’s frazzled nerves. Jerome’s phone lit up and played the cheerful chime.

  “This is Jerome. How can I help you?” Jerome answered. He placed the call on speakerphone.

  “Mr. Putnam? This is Guardian Security. You are listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Lennox’s home. We have detected an alarm at his home, at the first zone in the system. How do you want us to respond?” Robbie sat forward and waved at Jerome. He made a cutting motion with his right hand.

  “I’m sorry, this is the wrong number. I do not know a Mr. Lennox, and I am unaware of the circumstances for the alarm. Good evening,” Jerome cut the man off and stared at Robbie. “They hit your house.”

  “They can track that call. Dammit, that was fast. Pull the card out of your phone, Jerome. We have to go dark as shit now. Expect all communications to be tracked from this point forward. Dammit!” Robbie gripped the handset and glared at the speaker, willing it to stop and for Kristi to pick up.

  With his large calloused hands, Jerome fumbled with his phone until Clark sat back down and held out his hand. “I got this, Mr. Putnam. Those little SIM cards can be a bugger to get out.” The teen pulled the card from the phone and handed it back to Jerome. “Why are you freaked out, Uncle Robbie?”

  “They raided my house less than four hours after Charlie called me and warned us to haul ass. Sorry, ‘butt’.” Robbie shook his head. “Don’t tell your momma I slipped up.”

  “Why isn’t she coming to the phone?” Jerome asked.

  Robbie shrugged, “It has to be bad over there. Darn it, I’m going to get her!” Robbie stood just as Kristi’s voice blasted from the speaker.

  “Where are my children?! What’s happened to them?!”

  Leaning back and almost expecting Kristi to jump out of the small phone, Robbie barked, “Easy, Momma Bear. It’s Robbie. We are at your house getting ready to get out of here before the hammer falls. When are you getting home?”

  Jerome leaned in and spoke into the speaker, “Hey, Mrs. Wheaton. I’m here to waiting for my kids to show up, so we can all get gone.”

  “Hello, Jerome. Robbie, the kids are next door with Mrs. Ramirez. Tell her I’m sorry for dumping them on her all day.” Kristi’s voice faded for a second before she came back. “Robbie, I can’t leave. We are swamped with surgeries, and cops are posted all over the place. I think they mean to keep us here. They told us food would be provided and union rules for overtime have been suspended for the duration of the incident.”

  Robbie took a breath before he responded. “Is there a way for me to come and slip you out? Tell them you have a family crisis or something?”

  “They are arresting people left and right for obstructing the police when they try to force their way in. My department head, Janice… Well, her husband tried to come see her and got thrown to the floor and cuffed. It’s not safe for you to come up here.”

  “I can’t stay here, Kristi. They are looking for me, and they may have already raided my place. Can I take Clark and Emily out of here?” Robbie asked. Clark and his mother answered at the same time.

  “I’m not going anywhere without my Mom,” Clark protested.

  Hearing Clark, Kristi agreed with Robbie, “They will be safer with you, won’t they?”

  Jerome split the decision for them. “Robbie, they are looking for you. If they catch you on the road, what happens to them? I’ll stay here and look out for them until Kristi can get loose. We’ll take her SUV out of the city then.”

  “I didn’t think about that.” Robbie relented, “I can’t put them at risk.” Robbie thought for a few seconds. Glancing away, Robbie thought about how many things could go wrong during a felony stop with Clark and Emily watching their uncle get lit up by anxious feds.

  “Robbie, go. I’ll be okay,” Kristi said quietly through the phone.

  Looking at the phone with a scowl, Robbie shook his head, “Wheat would kick my tail for leaving you and the kids here. We made a promise for all of you. I can’t turn tail and run when you and the kids are stuck here. It’s not safe for you.”

  Kristi sighed, “I know, but you can’t fight this on your own.”

  “Not alone, I can’t,” Robbie grumbled.

  “Jerome, do you mind watching over the kids until I can get home?” she asked.

  Jerome laughed, “Not at all. I’m waiting on my own kids to show up anyway. Robbie can take my truck and I’ll wait here for you, if you don’t mind?”

  “That’s fine. The SUV will be cramped, though, with all of us piled in there.” Kristi’s voice cut out for a second as someone else spoke from near the receiver.

  “You need to wrap it up, Kristi. The next case is rolling back in a few, and the room needs to be turned over still. Housekeeping can’t keep up, so we are picking up the slack.” The voice sounded friendly but brittle.

  “Okay, I’m almost done,” Kristi responded to the voice. “I gotta go. Jerome, keep my kids safe. I’ll be home soon. Robbie, hit the road. Tell the boys we are fine for now.”

  “Kristi, if I don’t hear from you in six hours, I’m bringing the team back in here to extract you and the kids. Call me on Clark’s phone when you hear something. He doesn’t know it yet, but he is donating it to his Uncle Robbie.” Clark smiled and tossed the phone over.

  “Why’s that?” Kristi asked.

  “Don’t call any of the boys. I’m betting that most of us are under electronic surveillance. Only call here or Clark’s phone from now on. I can’t tell anyone else my plan until I see them in person. I hope they have the sense not to call here.” Robbie thought for a second. “I’ll get down the road and call from a truck stop along the way.”

  “Well, get going. I’ll see you all soon,” Kristi promised, then said goodbye to Robbie and told Clark to mind Jerome until she got home.

  Robbie hung up and gripped the phone tight. “Jerome, can you get my bike locked up in the garage?” He passed his keys over. “I don’t want it out on the street, in case someone comes by running plates. You remember that time we all got ticketed because we didn’t have the city permits to park on their beloved streets? If my motorcycle tag gets run, you will have a damn hit squad kicking in your doors and tossing in flashbangs. Hell, take my plates off and hide them if you get a chance.”

  “If I can figure out your janky clutch, sure.” Jerome jingled the keys before pocketing them. “You going to take care of my truck?”

  “Man, it’s the only way I can see me getting out of here and back without throwing up red flags. I’m not going to speed or wreck it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “I’m more worried you’re going to drive it into a roadblock and go out guns blazing,” Jerome chuckled.

  With a long sigh, Robbie shifted in his seat. “No. I have to be all meek and mild, so I can get these kids safe. I made a promise.”

  “Tell Emily ‘bye’ then, son. I got this. You guys turned this place into a fortress. Nobody gets in here without a key or my say-so.” Jerome clapped Robbie on the prosthetic forearm and smiled.

  Robbie stood and went inside to find Emily glued to the television. The news had broken about the “riots” across the major cities. In stunned horror, Robbie watched windows being smashed and stores looted while cars and trash cans burned. A storefront, engulfed in flames, had people still running in to grab hair products in one video clip. Another overhead shot showed crowds of people blocking streets and breaking car windows of s
tranded motorists.

  “This is escalating too quickly,” Robbie shook his head, trying to come up with an alternative. Giving up, he leaned over to give Emily a hug. She focused on him and looked surprised to see him, since she had been sucked into the news broadcast.

  “When is Mom getting home?” she asked.

  Robbie held her tight and tried not to lie to her, “We just talked to her. The hospital is swamped with cases. Mr. Putnam, Jerome, is going to stay and watch over you and Clark. He is waiting for his kids to show. Keep the doors locked after I leave and don’t go outside for anything. Clark filled up the tubs with water in case this turns into something major. Don’t bathe in the tubs, just scoop the water out to flush the toilets and to clean up. Only drink from the water bottles Clark filled. Can you remember all of that?”

  “Duh, Uncle Robbie. You act like we have never done this before,” she smiled at Robbie.

  Robbie nodded and hugged her again. “Mind Jerome until your mom gets back. I have to run.”

  “Are we safe here?” Emily asked.

  Robbie hesitated and flexed his prosthetic arm, making the three-fingered claw open and close. “Jerome will keep you safe. These doors are strong enough to stop someone trying to kick their way in, but it shouldn’t come to that. I don’t need to tell you to stay off your computer and don’t email anyone.”

  Robbie moved back out to the front porch. “Clark, you know the combination to the safe?”

  “Yes sir,” the teenager replied.

  “Crack it open and make sure Jerome has your daddy’s shotgun for the house. You okay with that?” Robbie asked the boy becoming a man too soon.

  “I think Dad would like that. It kicks too much for me, but I bet Mr. Putnam can handle it,” Clark smiled. “Can I get my AR out?”

  “Hold off on getting yours or Emily’s weapons out, Kristi would roast my hide. Jerome, get anything from the truck you need. I’m out of here. Take care of the kids for me. My family appreciates you for doing this.” Robbie shook Clark’s hand, but the boy hugged him instead.