by Ira Tabankin
“Remember that many people up North may not recall their Bible verses any longer, the President has done everything he could to remove God from their society. Hell we can arrange with the broadcasters to show the movie the ‘Ten Commandments’ on television. It will remind everyone of what happens when you piss God off.”
“Which is why we’re going to remind them so they’re scared to death.”
“How the hell do you plan on turning the rivers red?”
“Dye, or whatever the geniuses can think up.”
“Dye?”
“Yup concentrated dye. Why not? Mix in some fish poison and it’ll look perfect.”
“You are crazy.”
“Thank you. General, let me read a quote from Revelation 8:8-9 “The second angel sounded his trumpet, and something like a huge mountain, all ablaze, was thrown into the sea. A third of the sea turned into blood. A third of the living creatures in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed” and from Revelation 16:3, “The second angel poured out his bowl on the sea, and it turned into blood like that of a dead person, and every living thing in the sea died.” Then in verses 4–6 God does the same to the world’s fresh water supply: “The third angel poured out his bowl on the rivers and springs of water, and they became blood. Then I heard the angel in charge of the waters say: ‘You are just in these judgments, O Holy One, you who are and who were; for they have shed the blood of your holy people and your prophets, and you have given them blood to drink as they deserve.’ If we handle this right, we can scare the shit out of the Northerners.”
Shaking his head, Fred says,
“Whoa there my good friend and leader, the story of rivers turning red will quickly spread to our people, ours are more religious than those in the North, you’re going to scare the living shit out of our people, you risk tearing us apart versus scaring the North.”
Jay frowns at Fred,
“I still think it’s worth the risk, we can explain that our rivers are clear, that should settle our people down.”
“No, it won’t, it may make it worse. You may convince the North that God is going to strike them, forcing millions to seek help here, we can’t support millions of scared Northerners, we split apart so we could plot our own course. We decided we didn’t want to have to give into their progressive BS, scaring them will drive them here, we’ll be back to where we started from.”
“General, can we reinforce our borders to block anyone from entering the Confederacy?”
“3,000 miles? I don’t think so. Do you have idea how long and how expensive it will be to build a wall along our border with the North?”
“Shit, I still think it’s a good idea. Think of the shock they’ll suffer if they’re in the dark and some of their major rivers turn blood red. I’m going to check on Lacy, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. We’ll take it up when I return.”
After Jay leaves the conference room, Tony shakes his head,
“On one hand, I think he’s nuts, on the other, it may work, it may scare the crap out of them.”
General Arthur frowns,
“I don’t know if what he’s asking is possible,”
“We can try. What have we got to lose?”
“Our country.” Said a very worried General Arthur. I’m going to have a chat with the Admiral, maybe he’ll see something I’m missing.
Fred says, “Maybe we’re missing something, why don’t we ask our friends in the tech industry to pull together something to dye their rivers. I’m sure they’ll be able to come up with something interesting, why do we have to do all the work? We now own the CDC and have most of the integrators begging to move here.”
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Three weeks later Frank uses his left arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. He’s sitting in bumper to bumper traffic lined up in front of the North’s immigration and customs border checkpoint in Virginia. The only state to break into two parts, 2/3 of the state sided with the Confederacy, the 1/3 closest to D.C. sided with the North, which didn’t surprise anyone. Frank’s been waiting forty minutes, inching his way towards the border check set up across Interstate 95. Take a little trip North. Take a few friends with you. It’s the type of mission you’re going to like, low risk, high pay, you’ll have a good time. You’ll be home in a few weeks. All I have to do is lead my team North without getting caught, spread some shit in the Potomac River while other teams do the same with other rivers and reservoirs. Spread rumors that God is unhappy with the North, generally, scare the hell out of the people and then I’ll be able to go home. I must be nuts. Why do I keep accepting these crazy missions from Tony? He’s crazier than I am, and Jay is the lead nut, man he’s way out there. Who the hell would have thought of turning their rivers red is a way to fight a war. He’s nuts! Hell, I’m nuts for accepting these crazy missions.
On the other hand, Tony’s right, this can be a lot of fun. I can’t wait to see their reaction. Fred has our press primed to report on the rivers, adding to the North’s confusion. I’m glad the CDC and Dow Chemical agreed to help. The dye is mixed with a strong marine life poison which is supposed to kill most of the fish while it turns the river’s red. Rivers around the world have turned red before, but usually, only one at a time and there was usually a logical reason. This time, many rivers are going to turn red, and the fish will die. The smell of the dead fish will be horrible, it will bring millions of bugs and who knows what else, hence, the second plague. Shit, I hope he stops before we have to kill the first born.
Frank edges closer to the border checkpoint. He’s wearing a phony oxygen mask and has eight twenty-pound oxygen tanks in the car’s trunk. When Frank reaches the checkpoint, two border agents bend down to speak with him through the car’s open windows.
“Papers please, where are you going?”
Frank doesn’t respond staring straight ahead, one of the immigration officers taps on Frank’s roof,
“Sir, I repeat, your papers please?”
“Oh, I’m sorry officer. I didn’t sleep well last night. I must have been drifting there for a moment. Here’s my passport and license. I’m John Black, I’m heading to the Mayo Clinic, as you can see, I have a lung problem, stage four COPD.”
“Please open the trunk.”
“Yes, sir.” Answers Frank, who pops the trunk open.
The immigration officers jump back seeing the large silver and green tanks.
“What are these tanks in the trunk?”
“They’re my oxygen tanks. They’re clearly marked. They were filled by LinCare, one of the largest oxygen suppliers in the country, if you call them, they’ll confirm I’m a customer. There’s also one in the backseat which I’m using to breathe.”
“Do you have anything else to declare?”
“I have a couple toys and t-shirts for my kids. I have the receipts; would you like to see them?”
“No, please wait here, we’re going to contact LinCare to make sure those are really oxygen tanks. Is the address on your license the address on file with them?”
“Yes, sir.”
Five minutes later the customs agent returns,
“He checks out, the tanks are owned by LinCare, they confirmed his identity and his address.”
The senior immigration officer leans down to speak with Tony,
“That will be fine sir. Welcome back to the North. We hope everything goes well with your visit to the hospital, our prayers are with you.”
The customs agent looks at his partner,
“You can’t say that. We could both be fired for saying prayers be with him.”
“Poor guy doesn’t have long; I was just trying to be nice.”
“Do it on your own time and not here, I hope the camera and mic didn’t pick up what you said.”
Chapter 8
Frank smiles crossing into the northern section of Virginia, now called North Virginia to differentiate it from South Virginia. He has seventy-five miles to drive before reaching his motel which is booked in anothe
r name. He pulls into a shopping mall’s underground garage where he leaves his car behind. He quickly locates his replacement car which has a gym bag with his new ID, currency and credit cards. He transfers new tags he brought along with him and the silver and green tanks to the new car. An hour after leaving the garage, his previous car explodes in a ball of flames. Nothing is left of the car he crossed the border in. The local police assume the propane tank next to the car exploded, taking a row of parked cars with it. They write it up as an accident. The burnt shells of the cars are towed out of the parking garage. They’re taken to the Northern Virginia State Police impound lot where they sit until the State CSI team can look at them, due to their backlog, they won’t be checked for at least a month by which time Frank will be back home enjoying a cold beer.
Frank pulls into his motel; the room key is in the gym bag allowing him to enter his room without having to stop at the front desk. Frank and his team found someone who looked enough like him to fool most people, the imitator checks into the Mayo Clinic under the name John Black. Where he waits for the signal to make his way home. If immigration checks, he’s in the hospital as he declared when he crossed the border. The Hospital’s computer network has been hacked to show John Black has 4th stage COPD and isn’t expected to survive more than sixty days.
Frank smiles thinking about the tanks in the trunk of his car and the chaos they will soon cause.
Two days after leaving the shelter Frank arrives at his destination, the bridge across the Potomac River at Point of Rocks, Northern Virginia. Smiling to himself, just as Jay said, very little traffic, and there’s no one on the River. I’ll cross, pick up my next car making my way to White’s Ferry. I want to see the crossing up close. Thirty minutes later Frank is sitting in his third car, this time he’s crossing the Potomac River. His is one of only two cars on the small Ferry. Frank chats with the ferry operator, learning the ferry is tied to the dock on the Virginia side of the river during the evening which is what he booked the ferry to find out. He exits the ferry, driving through Maryland to the Beltway and crossing the Potomac back into Northern Virginia. Even during these economic conditions, the damn Beltway is a mess. Must be the hundreds of thousands of government employees. The radio says a heavy rain storm is coming tonight, the storm will keep people off the river, it will keep the local police in their cars, it’ll be the perfect time to execute my assignment. I’m glad Dow was able to produce the chemicals and place them in the oxygen tanks. I’ll return to the ferry tonight. I bet it breaks loose from its moorings many times, no one will give it a second thought in the morning when the ferry is found drifting down the river.
The storm blows in at ten o’clock, right on time, gusty winds and a heavy driving rain. Frank is wearing dark grays and blues, his exposed skin is painted with dark, non-reflecting paint. He loads three of the twenty-pound oxygen tanks onto a cart he uses to carry them to the ferry. Wearing rubber gloves he ties the tanks on the side of the ferry. I want the storm to carry it down the river, I’ve opened the tank’s valves and attached them to spray their contents into the river. My next stop is the Daleclaria Reservoir, which supplies D.C. with water. He jumps off the Ferry as the storm takes it down the river. At one o’clock in the morning, with the storm still gaining strength Frank slips into the water treatment plant. No guards, not even an electrified fence, just a few signs saying no trespassing, those are sure to scare someone away. They told me to open the valve on one tank and drop it into the last water tank and then disappear until the rest of the team checks in. I hope their evening chores are going as smoothly as mine. Twenty-five special forces teams and a group of gangsters sent to scare the shit out of the North; what a hell of a way to run a war.
Three o’clock in the morning a tired and wet Mr. Jason Brownstone walks into the Dulles Hilton Hotel asking,
“Do you have any rooms available?”
The bored front desk clerk looks up seeing a middle-aged man, wearing a wrinkled, wet blue pinstripe suit and dragging a roller bag and overstuffed briefcase standing in front of him.
“My flight kept getting pushed back, five hours of sitting around the damn terminal and they cancel it. I’m tired, wet and hungry.”
“Tired we can help with; we do have rooms available. Not as many people travel as they did before the current troubles began. Food is a different problem, due to the low occupancy we don’t keep the kitchen open twenty-four hours any longer, it’s not going to open for another few hours when it opens for breakfast.”
“Okay, I’ll grab some shuteye and hit the restaurant when it opens.”
“There’s a snack machine on the second floor. You can also fill out a room service order, I’ll have it delivered to your room when you want it to be there.”
“That’s a great idea. Thank you.”
“How will you be paying for your room?”
“American Express?”
“There will be a 5% fee added to the cost of the room, is that okay?”
“I know, same all over, everyone is passing the credit card fees back to us.”
“I’m sorry, they’ve raised the rates so high, Hilton decided to split them, we eat 75% of the processing fees. Times are bad now. So many are out of work, the mess with the South, the high inflation and costs of everything is stopping most people from traveling, four local Dulles airport hotels have closed.”
“I appreciate it, most pass the entire fee to me, it makes it hard to make a living, airlines charging 20% fuel fees, taxis charging $20 fuel fees, even the rental car companies are increasing their fees.”
“With the South splitting off and the economy falling apart, things are hard for everyone. The President has promised us that as soon as he gets the South to see the error of their ways, things will get back to normal. He said tonight, his discussions with the South’s acting President are making progress.”
“Says the man who said we could keep our doctors and our health care costs would go down.” What discussions with the South? I know for a fact, no one in Jay’s government is holding any meetings with anyone in the North. He’s lying to his people. He’s going to try to set up a black flag event blaming the South. He’ll tell them the South broke off discussions without wanting peace. He’ll tell them Jay used the meetings as a cover to plan attacks on the North. He’ll use the black flag event as an excuse to declare war, bring the North together, united against a common enemy, so they’ll forget their economic problems. Slippery bastard. In case they haven’t heard about these phony peace talks, I better send a message home warning them.
The front desk clerk pauses while the customer in front of him eyes look like he’s someplace else. The night clerk smiles saying,
“What are you going to do? They’re all the same. Here’s your room key, room 110, just down the hall.”
“Thanks, have a good night. By, the way, where can I get a few bottles of water?”
“Those I can help you with, how many would you like?”
“Four or five?”
“Let me get you something to hold them in.” A minute later the clerk returns with a laundry bag filled with six bottles of water. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, good night.”
“Good night.”
Frank smiles dragging his suitcase to his room. Entering, he takes a small box from his briefcase, he moves it along the walls, lamps, telephone and television, all clean, I didn’t expect to find any bugs, but better safe than sorry. Time for a nap. The hotel is almost empty. The Airport was filthy; they must have laid off most of their cleaning crew since their landing and takeoff fees are down from the lack of people traveling. Instead of a Starbucks every five gates, there was only one in each terminal. I wonder how many people lost their jobs in the airport. Comparing the economic conditions between the South and the North is amazing. The South is starting to boom; while the North is quickly falling apart. The rumor of war, the corporate confusion, so many companies announcing they are moving to the South, the Preside
nt saying he’ll block any who try to relocate. I don’t know how or where he thinks he gets the authority to block a public company from moving.
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In the South, Fred is also thinking about currency, our prices have fallen since we’ve adopted the Huntsville plan and moved to the gold standard. Our currency says right on it, it’s redeemable for the amount of the bill in gold or silver. Our money has real value, we won’t print worthless paper, nor exceed our income unless we enter into a war or face a catastrophic disaster and need to rebuild. Even then, we’ll have to pay the loan back within ten years. The North is printing money like it’s toilet paper causing mass inflation. It’s only a matter of time before the North defaults and goes bankrupt. We have to prepare for when they do, we’ll be faced with tens of millions of their people fleeing their collapsing economy. If we opened our borders, they’ll change us into the same mess they left, we can’t allow them in. I have to find a way to build the largest border wall in history. I think Jay agrees with me, where am I going to find the money to build a new capital, military and the wall? My God, we need a Superhero to be our new Secretary of the Treasury. Where are we going to find one? I need to find a way to convince Jay we need this person ASAP. The North could fall apart at any time. We have to be ready. Maybe the gold plan developers in Huntsville have a name I can suggest to Jay. Crap, this is a bigger problem than I expected.
