The Conspiracy of American Democracy - A Father's Revenge

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by Robert Strickland


  Alexei Vadim was a towering beast of a man. His shoulders were so wide that he had to turn sideways just to go through a doorway. Alexei stood six-foot-seven-inches tall and weighed over 350 pounds. His coal black hair was kept very short in a crew-cut style haircut. Alexei Vadim had the look of a man who lifted weights for hours every day. As he walked the muscles in his chest and arms flexed uncontrollably. His hazel eyes pierced the soul of everyone he met. His square jaw was covered with what appeared to be three-day-old stubble. There was talk of a sickle-and-hammer tattoo that covered the entirety of his back, though no one had ever lived to see it. Though he was called many names by those who feared him, Alexei Vadim was known to most as The Bear.

  In 2023, President Obama was slowly losing ground to the state militias and his supporters were appearing to grow weary. He needed to do something and he needed to do it quickly so that he could remain in his majestic power. A military coup did not fit into his long range plans for the country.

  A coup d’état is a French phrase which means ‘blow against the state’; is also known as a coup, a putsch, or an overthrow, is the sudden and illegal seizure of a government which is usually instigated by a small group of the existing state establishment to depose the established government and replace it with a new ruling body, civil or military. A coup d’état is considered successful when the usurpers establish their dominance. When the coup neither fails completely nor succeeds, a civil war is a likely consequence.2

  We were already in the civil war without a coup; the only benefit of a coup to the resisters would be a sudden surge of morale as the power shifted from one leader to another.

  Despite their initial encounter in 2014 when Vladimir Putin invaded the Ukraine, President Obama and President Putin had become close friends who relied on each other for all sorts of things; especially when it came to invading one another’s country and stroking the other’s enlarged ego. President Obama, knowing that the militia was holding strong against his army, asked President Putin for help in turning the tide of the revolutionary war in America. Putin smiled, and sent President Obama the man they called The Bear, the man known in all of Russia as Alexei Vadim. If Alexei Vadim could not help the socialist army to gain control of the small pockets of resistance in the Socialist States of America, then no one could.

  As I looked behind me I saw the most glorious sight! There was Alexei walking toward us, a rope tied tightly around his waist which also secured his wrists in front of him. His feet were chained together so that his strides were short. The rope around his waist wrapped around him several times and his wrists were bound so tightly, that it appeared the blood had been drained from his hands. The other end of the rope was tied around the saddle of an old horse that Pop used to carry into battle with supplies.

  Pop! Damn, it’s only been a day since he left us. He would have been extremely proud of our efforts today. He would have danced an Irish jig knowing that we had captured The Bear. Two South Carolina militia soldiers walked beside the horse with their Bulgarian made AK-47’s keeping The Bear under cover. Alexei was my prisoner now. I smiled at the thought.

  “Adam, be sure we keep him heavily guarded and secured on the way back to camp. I want four, armed guards on him and be sure those shackles on his feet are tight,” I remarked. Walking up to The Bear I looked into his eyes. “Remember me asshole?” I asked. He did not speak, he did not blink, and he did not make a move or sound. “Humph,” I said as I turned around to leave.

  With that, we started slowly making our way back to our camp that rested about three miles to the south. Just over eighteen hours ago we were defeating a section of the socialist army near an old strip mall. And this morning, at first light, we marched in the rain into another battle in an effort to surprise a resting socialist army platoon. Now we need to return to our camp to plan our next offensive move. With a prisoner now, we definitely had things to figure out. I also had to continue to enjoy my time with my daughters. Now I had to find out where they were the last three years. Who had them? And why were they so scared of me now? Now, now, now.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Adam asked, as we walked back toward our camp.

  “Adam, this may be the turning point of the war!” I proclaimed, motioning with my right arm in the direction of Alexei. Adam and I looked at each other with sheepish grins. The grins quickly turned into smiles, which eventually turned into chuckles as the sky began to clear and the rain stopped.

  “Yes Adam, if this war were a game of chess, then we just captured the equivalent of the King.” I stated, as we continued walking.

  Chapter 2

  Lily and Abby

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  “I prefer peace. But if trouble must come, let it come in my time, so my children can live in peace.”

  —Thomas Paine

  “Well that was the quickest nap I have ever had,” I said as I stretched from my slumber letting out a groan. Glancing over at Hannah, still sleeping, I couldn’t help but smile. Lily and Abby were sitting over at the edge of the tent watching me intently with vacant stares. I winked my right eye at them and cracked a grin in an attempt to break the tension. Years ago, a wink and a grin was all that we needed to connect in a father daughter way. Today, I get a blank zombie-like stare. If I ever find the men that took their spirit from me, I believe I will kill them all, I thought to myself.

  Walking over to them I felt the charred grass crunch beneath my feet. Shortly after the battle day before yesterday, my men quickly assembled a base camp on top of the battlefield. The charred ground was common now in President Obama’s America. Reaching where Lily and Abby sat cowering, I knelt down in front of them. I reached to touch Lily’s face and her eyes widened as she drew back slightly in an obviously frightened manner, but then leaned forward touching her left cheek to my open hand. I looked over to Abby and a tear slowly rolled out of the corner of her right eye as she moved forward and hugged me. “I love you both,” I said as we sat there embraced in a tight hug.

  “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but we need to talk,” Adam said as he entered the tent.

  Hannah was stirring in the clump of sheets that lay on the ground. “It’s ok, I’ve got them,” she said, nodding toward the girls as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and arched her back in a stretch. “When was the last time we slept in the afternoon like this?” she asked as I smiled back at her and left the tent.

  As we stepped outside of the tent into the still, brisk air Adam began, “The interrogation of Alexei is not going well at all. He is talking a little but not much. He did mention two older girls who travelled with them for a few years. I’m pretty sure he was speaking of Lily and Abby.”

  As Adam spoke, my heart sank and I felt anger rise up within me. “What else?” I asked.

  “Not much really. Some of us were wondering why his eyes seemed to light up when we got back here to the camp. Maybe he recognized the girls?” Adam asked. He continued, “How have they been since we got them back?”

  “Adam, I don’t even know. They are a shell of what they used to be. If I ever find the men responsible for what they have become, I just don’t know what I will do. I tell you what, send the scouts out in all directions to find out what’s around us and do a perimeter sweep. I’ll have a go at Alexei and see what I can find out,” I said, as I lightly punched Adam in the center of his chest and walked off.

  “Copy that,” Adam replied, as he also walked off.

  As I stepped into the tent where Alexei was being held, I could smell the stench. “God man, do you ever take a bath?” I asked. There he sat, The Bear in my custody. And, I had more than one reason to believe that he was a part of those who held my daughters in recent years. Yes, there is a God, and he is definitely smiling upon me, I thought to myself.

  It was in early 2014, that a rancher named Cliven Bundy was in the middle of a long term land dispute with the United States of America. More specifically, the Bureau of Land Management. Mr. Bundy’s family had
used that land for over a hundred years to raise and feed their cattle. Not once in that time had anyone from the federal government asked him to get off of the desolate land. But in 2014, the Obama administration decided that it was time for the government to take that land back and evict Mr. Bundy and his cattle. They started harassing Mr. Bundy by mail, by phone, and by physical presence. This was the beginning of the good citizens of the United States figuring out just how beneficial a militia could be. The government issued an ultimatum to Mr. Bundy and they started moving federal men, weapons, and large equipment onto the land. Shortly after their arrival on the land, they started taking his cattle and auctioning it off. The government was having their way and it appeared that Mr. Bundy had no recourse. No recourse until some unknown friends showed up.

  The state militia showed up and confronted the government. A brief standoff occurred with the militia holding their ground. There were firearms on both sides, and the anticipation that shots were going to be fired was very real. No one knows what really happened, other than the fact that after a few days the government decided that it was time to leave and packed up and left. Everyone knew that the government would come back on another day; everyone knew that the militia would as well. A line had been drawn in the sand, and Mr. Bundy crossed it and won, for a short time anyway.

  Alexei sat in an all steel folding chair that sat on the ground in the middle of an eight-foot by eight-foot teepee style tent. There were six heavily armed guards outside of the tent and two inside. Overkill? Maybe, but I was determined that we were not going to let this particular prisoner get away. This prisoner was worth too much to us. He was worth too much to me.

  Alexei sat there with nothing on his body but a pair of white underwear. He was covered with sweat and his face was black and blue from the ongoing interrogation. Alexei had been beaten so badly that blood ran down the edge of his chin and dripped onto his chest. His underwear was stained light crimson from the blood pooling with the sweat and rolling down his chest and stomach. Despite the beating he continued to sit straight up in his chair with an utterly defiant smirk on his face.

  “So it’s true,” I said. Alexei looked at me, and spit in my direction. I walked around behind him and admired the tattoo that covered almost the entirety of his massive back. “Sure as shit, it’s a Soviet hammer and sickle. Impressive for sure dude, impressive for sure,” I commented.

  “I have nothing to say to you General Hornady,” he stated.

  “Your English is better than I remember Alexei, or should I call you The Bear?” I asked, as I pulled a Glock field knife out of its sheath on my belt. I held the knife up to his right eye and asked, “What about the two girls that travelled with you? What can you tell me about them?” He again spit in my direction.

  There was an old propane heater that sat in the corner of the tent. Propane was a high end commodity in 2028. Resisters frequently raided Socialist campsites and acquired propane tanks so that they could stay warm in the winter. We were no different, we had four propane tanks in our camp. We were running low, but Alexei was worth it. I turned the propane on, used an old waterproof match and lit the heater.

  The heater was comprised of a large propane tank that had a round top attachment that heated up to a bright orange. The coil top element provided heat for the entire tent. There was a protective grill attached to the front of the element that provided safety to keep someone from touching it and getting burned. I walked over to the heater, took the Glock field knife, and wedged it into the grill so that the point of the blade rested about one quarter inch from the red hot element.

  I walked back over to Alexei, “One more time Alexei, what can you tell me about the girls? How did you get them? What was their purpose? Who ordered them to be taken? Why did you keep them alive when you killed so many other prisoners?”

  Alexei looked up at me, smiled, shifted in his seat, and looked down at the burned ground beneath us. I walked back over to the propane heater, the blade on my Glock knife was now a bright, glowing, reddish-orange color. I took the knife out of the grill and walked over to Alexei as the tip of the blade smoldered leaving a light trail of smoke in the air as I walked with it. “I will ask nicely one last time Alexei,” I started, as I held the knife up next to his right eyeball. Even a big man like The Bear had to close his eyes and attempt to draw his head backward from the hot blade that was so perilously close to his eye. He could not even watch what was coming. “Talk damn it!” I exclaimed.

  Alexei opened his eyes, looked up at me, smiled, and said softly, “Do whatever it is that you need to do. I have nothing to say.”

  “I need to see him if you don’t mind,” Hannah asked the guard outside of Alexei’s tent.

  “Ma’am, I am not allowed to let anyone inside the tent as long as the General’s in there,” came the soldiers reply. She thought about her options as she sized the soldier up. What do they feed these guys around here she asked herself looking at the soldier. He was about five-foot-eleven, but he was thin and trim and built like a stack of cinder blocks. She could see his muscles bulging underneath his uniform. Well, no way can I knock him down she thought to herself.

  Just as Hannah weighed her options, “Ma’am, can I help you?” came the question.

  Hannah knew that all too familiar voice. She turned to see Adam standing behind her. Tears filled her eyes as she lunged at Adam, and embraced him in a very heartfelt hug. “Thank you so much for keeping him safe and bringing him back to me Adam,” she said while squeezing his neck even harder.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, settle down. It’s all okay now,” he said as he pushed her back and saw the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “I just thought I had seen him for the last time, and then the two of you showed up and rescued us. I’m just forever grateful to you Adam, forever grateful,” she said.

  “Well, I think it was him keeping me safe and not the other way around. But at any rate, I think we make a good team,” he replied.

  “You know Adam, you need a good woman in your life, and there are several eligible single women here in the camp,” Hannah advised with a wink in his direction. “I’m sure I could find one to fix you up with,” she said.

  Clearing his throat and feeling redness on his face, Adam retorted, “No offense Ma’am, but I don’t need no woman, don’t want no woman, and I ain’t got to have no woman.” Hannah smiled and laughed. Adam continued, “Ma’am, what are you doing outside of the prisoner’s tent?”

  At that moment a blood curdling scream came from just inside the tent. It was a scream that could probably be heard for several miles. Adam, Hannah, and the soldier ran inside the tent.

  The ammunition destruction orders started in 2014. For several years, the federal government had been buying up millions and millions of rounds of ammunition. Some went to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, some to Homeland Security, and some to the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms. But the overwhelming majority went to the United States Military.

  In 2014, they finally started running out of space to store all of the ammunition. While the reasons for the acquisition were unclear at the time, we now know that the purchases were in an effort to keep the ammunition from civilians. And in 2014, rather than redistribute the ammunition to civilians, the government ordered that it be destroyed.

  In April of 2014, the USA Today newspaper reported that, “The Pentagon was going to destroy more than $1 billion worth of ammunition, although some of those bullets and missiles could still be used by troops, according to the Pentagon and congressional sources.” This was the first of many ammunition destruction events ordered by The Pentagon. The sole purpose was to keep the ammunition away from the general public. It worked.

  “Thanks for the information Bear,” I exclaimed as I turned to see Adam and Hannah looking at me with their mouths hanging open. The Bear sat in the chair with blood running out of his right eye socket down his cheek. The eyeball had a hazed look to it. I stood there holding the still glowing oran
ge Glock field knife that dripped with some kind of red tinged clear fluid. I started toward Adam and said, “Tomorrow we leave for Vermont.” And, I did not say another word and left the tent. Adam and Hannah stood looking at The Bear who had now passed out. I opened the flap to the tent, stuck my head back in, and said, “Get that man an eye patch, he’s blind in his right eye now.” And with that, I was gone.

  The Geneva Conventions comprised four treaties and three additional protocols that established the standards of international law for the humanitarian treatment of prisoners of war. The singular term Geneva Convention denotes the agreements of 1949, negotiated in the aftermath of the Second World War (1939-1945), which updated the terms of the first three treaties in 1864, 1906, and 1929, and added a fourth treaty. The Geneva Conventions extensively defined the basic, wartime rights of prisoners, both civil and military, and established protections for the wounded; and established protections for the civilians in and around the war-zone. The treaties of 1949 were ratified, in whole or with reservations, by 196 countries. Moreover, the Geneva Convention also defines the rights and protections afforded to non-combatants and people in war.3

 

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