Apocalypse Coming

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by William Dunaway


  I told Mike to top off the tractor, generators, wood splitter and lawn mowers and then load the ten five-gallon military gas cans that we had into the truck, and for him to unload his car of everything except his tactical gear.

  “You need to take your car also, so we can make sure we have enough space to haul everything we’re going to get.”

  Mike and Kim both knew, that when I was in my “military mode,” just to follow orders.

  I then called Blake, and our next-door neighbor Jake Benson and told them what we were planning and why.

  Jake had lived there for years. He knew everything that was going on in the area. Since there were only five homes total on the mile stretch that we lived on, we’d watch out for each other’s property when the other one was on a trip or vacation.

  Jake and his wife, Amy, housed foster kids for the state. He was amazing with turning around kids that had been neglected and sometimes abused. He wasn’t easy on them, but he showed them a lot of love. A couple of the kids he ended up adopting.

  He was also able to fix almost anything. He would buy a piece of equipment that was being sold for junk, and within a short period, he would have it completely rebuilt.

  The Wal-Mart was in Harrisonville, about eleven miles to our west. It was a small town of about 12,000 people, and most of them were country style people.

  “We should stop and fill up the vehicles and the gas cans first, but I don’t want the full gas cans sitting in the bed without someone watching them. I’m glad that we had the propane tank and gas tank filled up last week.”

  Kim acknowledged me, but she knew that I was really talking aloud to myself while mentally going down a checklist of things I felt we needed to do.

  We have a 500-gallon gas tank at the house that I use mainly for the tractor. I didn’t use the tractor enough to justify that big of a tank, but I knew that someday a situation like this would happen.

  When we arrived, the parking lot had a lot more cars in it than it usually would at 11:00 in the morning. “Apparently, we aren’t the only ones with this idea.”

  We had it planned that we would all grab two carts each. Mike would grab a large assortment of batteries, the small propane canisters for the camp stoves, lanterns, any ammo they had available for our guns and several bags of dog and cat food. He would also buy at least four deep cycle car batteries and some extra cables.

  Kim was to get as many cases of vegetables that she could load and I’d handle the canned meat cases. Then I used my second cart for large bags of flour and sugar, while Kim filled hers with items like seasoning, baking powder, etc., then top the cart off with coffee, pop, and Gatorade.

  We had all this stuff in our emergency food at home, but you can never have too much, especially if what I thought was going to happen, happened. First prices would skyrocket, then stores would eventually stop getting shipments.

  There were several people doing the same thing that the three of us were doing, but you still had your everyday type shoppers staring with amazement and wondering why there were so many people buying such large quantities of food.

  While waiting in line, I suddenly blurted out, “Damn, I forgot something. Watch the carts and start checking out if I’m not back in time.” I ran over and grabbed another cart and filled it with all the canning jars and spare lids they had. Then I filled the rest of the cart with lamp oil, and then I piled on four five-gallon gas cans. I would have bought more, but that’s all they had. I barely made it back to the checkout without the gas cans falling off.

  When we checked out with our seven carts the total came to $1487.00. I used the credit card to pay for it all, and when we left, I went over to our bank, which was in Wal-Mart and pulled everything out of our accounts. I had Mike do the same as he used the same bank. I questioned how much the dollar was going to be worth in the very near future, but in the meantime, the cash would come in handy.

  Once we got everything loaded, we filled up both vehicles and the gas cans. The lines to get gas had significantly gotten longer. You could see that people were anxious and on edge.

  While we were leaving town, we all noticed that the traffic had significantly increased.

  Kim commented, “Apparently, the word is starting to get out.”

  When we arrived home, it took us about two hours to get everything put away and stored.

  We were just sitting down to relax when Michael’s phone started making an “Air Raid” type siren. He had it set up like that, for any texts from the police department.

  His phone read, “Operation 100. Report to the station immediately.” Mike jumped up, “The teams been called out.” He called the station, “This is Mark 1, I’m an hour out.”

  The team is the police department's Tactical Team or SWAT Team. Mike’s patrolman number was 235. Mark 1 was his tactical shooter designation, whenever the team was activated.

  Right before he left, I asked, “Hey I know you get to keep your sniper rifle with you at all times. Now, your M-16, didn’t I hear you say that you were authorized to keep that in your locker instead of the armory since you’re on the tactical team?”

  “Why?” Then before I could even answer, he was figuring out why I asked the question.

  “Are you asking me to bring my M-16 here?”

  “No, what I’m asking is that you keep all your equipment, including the M-16 in your car.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s a good idea. Sure, I can do that. You’re thinking that we could be heading into a “Red Dawn” situation, aren’t you? Yeah, that’s not a problem. As a tactical shooter, I can carry whatever firearms I feel I may need,” Mike said with a little bit of satisfaction, as he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  Besides his sniper rifle and his duty weapon, Mike had been issued a fully automatic M-16. Red Dawn were the words we had always used when we were talking about when all hell breaks loose.

  Mike left and took back roads all the way north to Interstate 70, as he wanted to avoid the Grandview area completely.

  Chapter Seven

  Captain Davis was at an observation post overlooking the Hubert Law Building. There had been quite the argument whether they were going to handle the breach like a “no-knock” warrant, where no warning is given to the occupants or if they would contact the occupants and give them an opportunity to surrender. The danger in that is it gives the occupants more time to prepare.

  Chief Robbins was starting to worry about the political pressure and the backlash he would receive from the mayor’s office if they used too aggressive of tactics.

  Captain Davis was more worried about his men. He almost became insubordinate arguing his case. Ultimately, the chief made the decision to contact Jerome ahead of time and give him a chance to surrender the building. Captain Davis was furious. He knew that giving them a forewarning could cost the lives of many of his men and he let the chief know in no uncertain terms. The chief relieved him of tactical command and assigned Lieutenant Samson Jones to take command of the operation. When this happened, even Captain Evans chimed in, stating that Jones had very little experience and had never led an operation like this and that they’re facing the possibility of over 35-40 Warriors being in the building.

  Lieutenant Jones was the nephew of the major’s wife. He had been groomed to be chief someday. Being assigned to the SWAT team was just another thing to put on his resume. He wasn’t liked or trusted by the men, but he didn’t care. His goal was to go through all the paces, from patrolman to special operations and then administrative. His political advisors suggested instead of SWAT, he should become a detective, but he wanted to be SWAT as he thought that as he grew in authority, the “common” police officer would look at him as a badass and have to respect him.

  The two SWAT teams were combined, and they’d also have the support of 35 uniformed officers.

  Jones had decided to make the call to Jerome himself, even though Captain Davis highly advised him to use a designated negotiator.

  “With all due respec
t Captain, I believe you’ve been relieved. This is my operation. I’ll decide who does what.” That’s when Davis just shook his head in disgust and headed to the observation point.

  Jones thought that if he was the one to negotiate the surrender, he would be a hero in the “brasses” eyes.

  The call was made. “Mr. Jackson, this is Lieutenant Jones of the Kansas City Police Department. I want to advise you that we’re here to arrange for you and your men to come out peaceably. I promise that you and your people will be treated well. We don’t want any bloodshed or for anyone to get hurt. I’m in complete charge of this operation, and I promise you that my word will be carried out to the letter.”

  Jerome, whose observers had already spotted the approach of the police, could tell that he was talking to someone he could manipulate.

  “Lieutenant, all we want is peace. This whole demonstration was supposed to be peaceful. To be honest, if it hadn't been for the aggressive action taken by the police, it would’ve remained peaceful. I represent Socialists United. I assure you that the violence committed wasn’t by us. It was done by people not associated with us, and we had no control over them.”

  “I understand Mr. Jackson. Mistakes were made by all sides. I’m here now just to come to a peaceful settlement. We must insist that you and your men surrender, but I’ll make sure that you and your men will be treated well.”

  “Well, I don’t have the authority to make any decisions. All I can do is recommend to my people, but I assure you that if you give me an hour, we’ll come to the correct decision and let you know. Again, we want a peaceful conclusion to all of this.”

  “One hour, I think that will be acceptable. Please advise your people though, that after the hour, we’ll have no choice but to come in with force. Please, Mr. Jackson, we don’t want that to happen.”

  “One other thing Lieutenant, I know I can talk my people into making the right decision, but you have to understand that they’ll be very leery of police brutality. I must insist that you lead your team. I can convince them that no officers will be aggressive with you leading them into the building. Also, if you agree, I’ll have my men that are at the front entrance lay down their arms and raise their hands. That will let you know that we’re ready to surrender the building. We’ll be waiting on the second floor as there is a very large conference room up there. That way your men won’t feel threatened by everyone being in individual rooms. We’ll make sure that any firearms will be placed on the floor in front of us and our hands on top of our heads. If you agree to all of this, I know we can bring this to a peaceful conclusion. Is this agreeable?”

  Jones paused while thinking, “It’s one thing to lead the operation but to put myself in harm’s way isn’t what I had in mind. But if I can get film of me leading the team in and then walking out with Jackson and his crew, I’ll be considered a hero, especially to the public.”

  “I’ll agree to those terms. Do you have any objection to me bringing in a film crew with us? That way your people may feel less threatened as well.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Give me an hour to explain it to everyone, and I’m sure this will all come to an end.”

  As soon as Jerome hung the phone up, he laughed, “What a moron. It’s our lucky day.”

  Rodney asked, “What the hell are you doing? Are we surrendering? Why?”

  “No, we aren’t surrendering. They would hang me from the highest tree. And you being my right-hand man, you wouldn’t receive much better.

  First, have a few of our people direct the mob to them, marching straight up Oak Street. I don’t care what they have to tell them, but they must start marching immediately. When they get to the checkpoint, there will be so many; I don’t think they’ll try and stop them. But even if they try, have them keep marching. They aren’t going to open fire on a bunch of unarmed demonstrators. Just make sure they’re all unarmed, and there is NO violence. Make it a peaceful march. All I want them to do is keep going as far as they can right through North Kansas City.

  I want you to have everyone else go to the 2nd-floor conference room and stay there, except for the guards posted at the entrances. Where did you hide the bus?”

  “It’s hidden in an old warehouse, next to the riverfront.”

  “How long to get there on foot?”

  “Without any problems, probably 20 minutes.”

  “Good. Good. Since it's dark, we’ll display our little distraction. When that happens, we’ll slip out through that basement crawl space. I doubt they know about it, but even if they do, I’m betting our little show will turn their heads long enough for us to slip out. I want you, Simpson, and our five team leaders ready to go in exactly 50 minutes. Oh, and let’s take along those two little sweethearts from the party.”

  “What about the rest of the men? And why take those bitches?”

  Jerome stopped and glared at him. “Are you questioning my orders, Rodney?”

  “NO! NO! You know me better than that. I’ll do whatever you say. I just wanted to point out that these men have been loyal to you.”

  “These men are my soldiers. They know they could fall at any time and are willing to do it for me. They have a very important job to do. Now, get Simpson in here right away, and you make the arrangements and get that mob moving NOW!”

  Within a few minutes, Simpson walked in. “Yeah!”

  “Is our little distraction all ready?”

  Simpson gave a thumbs up.

  “Can it be detonated while we’re on the move?”

  “No problem.”

  “Ok, you need to be in the basement in 45 minutes. Eight of us are going out the basement crawl space, and we’re going to use your little surprise as a distraction. Are you sure it’ll be big enough to turn some heads?”

  “Oh, it’ll be big enough alright. Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be standing down on the street at the time.”

  “Now, Rodney seemed to have a problem with only eight of us leaving. How about you? Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Why do I give a fuck? These people mean nothing to me. You tell me to blow something up; I blow it up. That’s all I give a damn about.”

  “Good! Now I have one more thing I need you to do, and you don’t have very long to do it. No one can see you're doing it either.”

  Lieutenant Jones had an MSNBC crew brought in. He thought just maybe Jackson would feel more comfortable with them filming the surrender.

  He had his thoughts disturbed by a call from Captain Davis from the observation point. “You just had about three to four hundred protesters march right through the checkpoint, going north on Oak.”

  “It couldn’t have been anyone from Jackson’s group. We’ve had eyes on them.”

  “Don’t you think that it’s an awfully big coincidence that they marched right before this action?”

  “Captain, I’m in tactical command. You’ve been relieved of this command. That means my authority supersedes your rank. I would thank you to let me run my operation, without your interference. Now if you don’t have anything else, I have work to do.”

  Davis was furious. But more than that, he was frightened for his men. His hands were tied, though. There was nothing he could do.

  Gladstone Police Department: Gladstone, Mo.

  Mike had reported to the police station in Gladstone. During a briefing of the Tactical Team, Captain Leroy Rogers, Gladstone’s Tactical Team Commander, radio designator of TAC 1 was saying, “KCMO intelligence has shared with us that a very large group of demonstrators have marched out of downtown Kansas City. They’re heading north on Oak Street through North Kansas City. We don’t know their intent, but it’s certain that most of this group were involved in the violence in the downtown Kansas City area. If by chance they make it all the way up to Gladstone, the decision has been made by the mayor and city council that they won’t be allowed to enter the city.

  All shifts have been called in, and patrolman will be concentrating on the southern ha
lf of the city. There is a limited curfew at this time. No one that doesn’t have a Gladstone address will be allowed into the city.

  I’ve been advised that we can’t expect any help from the National Guard, except for air observation of the demonstrators. We’ll be assisted by Clay County, which will be manning checkpoints at all off-ramps coming off I-35 North but that’s about it. All Highway Patrol are currently assigned to the perimeter of the downtown Kansas City area.

  Because they’re marching up Oak Street, we’ll be assigned to cover the intersection at Englewood Boulevard. Are there any questions?”

  “You said a large group of demonstrators; just how many are we talking about?” one of the team members asked.

  “The estimate given to us was between three to five hundred.”

  Whistles and chattering came from the team members.

  Mike asked, “Captain, with all due respect, if they do arrive at the city, just how in the hell are we supposed to stop that many from entering?”

  He chuckled and replied, “That’s the same question I asked. Hopefully, a show of force at the city limits will deter them to take a different route. Off the record, if that many decide they’re coming in, I don’t have a clue how we’re expected to stop them. Any other questions?”

  The team just grumbled to one another, and besides some expected derogatory comments, no one had any other questions.

  “Ok then, load up, and we’ll move out.”

  Once they arrived, a roadblock was set up. Patrol cars sat with their lights on, and flares were ignited.

  The Captain called for Mike who was the #1 tactical shooter, designation Mark 1 and John Ackers, who was the #2 shooter, Mark 2.

  “For now, you guys will have the job of overwatch.”

  OverWatch is a term which means observation and protection of all team members. Tactical shooters take shots only by direct command. The only exception for that is if a firefight commences or in extreme circumstances if, in the judgment of the shooter, a shot must be taken to prevent a loss of life of another officer or civilian and there is no time to contact command.

 

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