by W. R. Benton
James got up and got another beer from the fridge. He sat back down and listened to other things going wrong in the country, and then the reporter said, “In medical matters tonight the Center for Infectious Diseases reports three cases of the Black Plague in Denver over the weekend and they are stumped by the reappearance of this highly fatal disease. Black Death, as the Plague used to be called, was thought to have been eradicated years ago, so these new cases are causing heath officials to raise eyebrows and scratch their heads.”
“Why are all these things happening all of a sudden? Everything from a dirty bomb going off to bad serum for kids, and it's all occurring at once.” James asked, not realizing he was alone.
“We interrupt this program with a special announcement. We now take you live to Sandra Gates, who is on the scene. Sandra?”
“Burt, I am standing in front of the Jackson, Mississippi VA Hospital, which is in flames behind me. Approximately four hours ago a bomb threat was called in to the officials here. The police responded with dogs, but found nothing, and shortly after that a dump truck police believe held thousands of pounds of explosives, plowed through the front door and exploded.
Now, I was told the staff evacuated with patients to the parking lot almost an hour later, and three car bombs in the parking lot exploded. The police tell me that the driver of the truck cried out, 'Allahu Akbar' just before he set off the explosives. At this time, we do not have the number of dead or injured from the hospital or parking lot. The building remains standing and many surviving veterans have been transferred to other local hospitals.”
The camera moved around to show the destruction of the VA building as well as the parking lot, and then it returned to the reporter who had an older man wearing a Vietnam Veterans ball cap on his head.
“Burt, I have Mike J. Gibbs with me, and he was a first hand witness to the attack. Mr. Gibbs, when did you first notice an attack was in progress?”
“When that beep head came toward the hospital door like a bat out of hell in that truck. I think his intention was to go as deeply into the building as he could before exploding. He yelled something I didn't understand and then blew himself and that dump truck to hell and back. What in the world has happened to this country? We need to turn back to God, get the illegal aliens and refugees out, and start taking care of our own. Until we do that, this beep will continue. Hell, it doesn't take much to determine who's responsible for this beep act, now does it? Homeland security needs to get up off their beep and do the beep job they are beep paid to do.”
“Uh, thank you for your comments, sir. This is Sandra Gates, WDBB, reporting live from the VA Hospital in Jackson, Mississippi. Back to you, Burt.”
“In other news tonight, stores report doing well with consumers grabbing foods off of shelves almost as fast as they are stocked. The big items purchased are bottled water, toilet paper, frozen foods, and snacks. There has also been a huge jump in soft drinks and alcohol, with sales doubling within the last week.”
James turned the TV off and then said, “I don't like this, none of it, at all. It's almost as if some outside power is influencing all of this, but that's not possible, right?” Donna had returned to the RV as the footage of the VA was being shown.
“We've expected the Muslims to start trouble, and I think they're responsible for the dirty bomb that wasted Washington, D.C..”
“Do you think they also poisoned the folks at the NBA game?”
“It's more sophisticated than their usual operations so I have to say no, but it's possible. So far, they've shown themselves to be a crude bunch, mainly using suicide bombers.”
“I think the Liberals are starting to wonder if allowing the illegal aliens or the refugees to stay was a smart decision. I knew something was wrong when I noticed all the refugees were of military age and healthy. If these men don't have the guts to stay and fight from their own homeland, we sure as hell don't want them here. I think every single one of them should serve a four year hitch in the US military.”
“Then, the illegals have the balls to come on TV and shout they've broken no laws and they are not criminals. Bullshit, just by being in our country makes them criminals and as such, illegal to be considered for citizenship. The immigration laws are there, they just need to be enforced, so we can send these people packing. We should send them all back home along with their anchor babies and then bill their governments for the transportation costs and the hospital bill for the kids.”
“I agree, but what worries me is the cost of keeping them here. How can a nation, with a deficit of trillions of dollars, suddenly open their arms to millions of new people? Right now they are being provided for, and well, I might add, as some of our veterans sleep in the streets, die for the lack of medical treatment, and our elderly can't afford their medications. At some point in the past, all our elected officials lost their common sense.”
“Politicians are bought, baby, and by the highest bidder. Some of those folks are hired as CEOs of large companies, paid millions, and have never seen the office they supposedly work in. I consider the lobbying of our politicians as bribes, and it should be illegal. Those boys and girls need to only make the money the government pays them. Then we'd see fewer upper middle class entering into politics and retiring a few years later as millionaires. There is no way that can happened legally. Corruption is what has started all of this. I also fear the New World Order is behind some of this, too.”
“When do you think we can return home?”
“Not until things smooth out some. I suspect the next thing to happen will be riots in the streets, planned killings of cops, social unrest with minority groups, and more bombings. Even right now the President is still demanding our guns, the military has ordered the UN out of the country, and they have sworn to protect our rights under the Constitution. There will be a civil war. The liberals will be the first to die, too.”
“Why? They don't believe in guns.”
“Most Liberals don't own a gun, but when the war breaks out, it will be between those who want to keep guns and those who do not. Those that want to keep guns already have them, with some households owning a half-dozen or more. Can you imagine starting a war over guns and you're unarmed? Oh, I suspect some Liberals have guns, but there will not be enough of them to impact the outcome. They'll depend on the UN to protect them, only I suspect they'll have their hands full with our military. You'd better hope we win too, because if we don't, I suspect the mark of the beast is next.”
“Oh, that frightens me. Do you think it will be a chip implant like we've read?”
“Why not? They could then locate us by GPS, maybe listen to our thoughts, control our minds, and each of us would be counted and under surveillance all the time. As a Christian, I'd refuse the implant and that'd mean death.”
“I heard officer Smith at the station say when they implant the chip, everyone's forehead will be tattooed with a blue 666. I won't do that, no way.”
There was a knock on the door and when James opened it, gun in hand, Frank stepped in and said, “Just got a call from Jerry. He and Thomas want to join us out here. They're both useless, but last night they both had their sheds and garages ransacked, and with them broken up like they are, there was nothing they could do.”
“Have them bring both families, but in one car. I don't want this place to start looking like a used car lot. I think since they're still out of commission with broken bones, they can have the lodge and you two move in here with us.”
Frank pulled this cell phone, dialed a number and said, “Hey good buddy, the poker game for this afternoon is on. Carpool and only bring one car, okay? BYB and pick up some snacks. Okay, bye.”
“What'd he say?”
“Well, they'll be here today, and they'll load up on booze and bring some large containers of foods. Jerry has been prepping for years and he has 5 gallon containers filled with beans, jerked meats, pasta and such. I know both men own guns, so they'll bring them as well. I spoke with Jerry t
he last time I spoke to you in the parking lot. They fear resisting the NWO will bring a fight and I agree with them. After they get here, we'll go back to Jerry's place and load up on all the stuff he's hoarded over the years.”
“Once they've healed some, you and I will move deeper in the woods here and taking some chainsaws, we'll make a new cabin. I suspect my lodge is on all topographical maps the USGS makes.”
“So?” Frank asked.
“When things turn bad and the civil war starts, we may not want to be found for a while. Food will stop being delivered, gas will become scarce and expensive, and I think folks will start to kill for a meal.”
“Do you honestly think it's going to get that bad?”
“Yes, I do. There are too many terrible things happening all at once in this country. I think the New World Order is behind these things. I think over the years our Presidents were elected by the NWO and not the people. As a result, we've had year after year of moral decay from weak leaders. Those leaders had no interest in anything, but lining their own pockets with cash. Everyone was on the Liberal financial bandwagon from transgenders to the NAACP, and all got a cut of the funds. I think the goose that lays the golden egg has died. I think now NWO is coming to collect.”
“Do you think the leader of the NWO is the anti-Christ?” Frank asked.
“If they start embedding chips and placing tattoos with 666 on our foreheads, yes I do.”
“Well, there won't be anything we can do to prevent this, because it's all in the Bible.”
“I'm not sure about that but ask Jerry, he's got that religious stuff down well and even fills in for the preacher when he's unable to conduct services.”
“I'll do that. Oh, I got some information on the killing of Mims. Seems it was a professional hit. The security alarm was still on when the cook arrived for work at 7 am; nothing was taken except his cash, jewelry and credit cards. There was a Rolex watch taken, too. All three were killed with one shot; two were head shots, the other a chest shot.”
“Sounds like a robbery to me.”
“It was no robbery. When a house is robbed, professional robbers pull out drawers, check between the mattress and box springs, and look for wall safes, but there was no trashing of the place like in 99.9% of all cases. In a robbery, more people are wounded than killed. Which leads me to think the killing was a professional hit and all were caught asleep.”
“Okay, dead is dead, so why was he killed?”
“I'm still thinking on that aspect and I have no suspect or motive. He was a multi-millionaire, intelligent, powerful, and traveled a great deal. A check made on his phones revealed a lot of calls to and from Frankfurt, Germany. All the calls are being checked, but so far the German phone company is saying the numbers are not good now, and they were not working on the days when the calls were made.”
“That sounds like a cover up to me.”
“It could be. Then again, maybe NWO has folks working for them that can in some way activate unused numbers temporarily. I know using a VPN on my computer hides me and I can use a server in Spain, France or anyplace in the world. It assigns me an IPN for that region that is not in use. Then as I move around on the internet, no one knows where I'm really from. So, maybe phones can be done like that.”
“You mean someone in America is making the call, but in some way the calls are routed through Germany?”
“Or the party could be located in Germany or any other place in the world, actually.”
“Wow, I can barely grasp a thought like that.”
“The world is changing, my friend, and rapidly too.”
“Much of what I see indicates it's changing alright, only it's not improving.”
CHAPTER 6
Agent X1 rented an apartment on the 6th floor of a run down high-rise in Houston, using a fake name and driver’s license. He'd spent some time earlier that morning with a makeup artist, who added twenty years to his appearance, and he now wore black plastic framed glasses. He was wearing old clothes, gym shoes, and a beat up stocking cap. He carried only a few things to his apartment once the lease was signed. Another agent dropped him off later in the day with what looked to be a box of long stemmed roses and some shopping bags with food.
He was a little less than a half mile from the morgue that held the First Lady's body. From his perch in the living room he had a perfect shot all around the service side of the building. The word he'd received was the President would identify his wife's body, claim the remains as her next of kin, and then have her transported to a waiting ambulance. They would then drive to the airport and take Air Force One. He suspected he'd get a shot as the man entered or left the building.
He placed a steak, salad, and drinks in the fridge. He opened a pint bottle of quality bourbon, poured two fingers worth in a glass, and sipped his drink. He sat in an old overstuffed chair and pulling his binoculars, began scanning the morgue. He watched workers come and go, saw the trash taken out, and a new body brought in.
Near 6 pm, when it grew dark, he began using his rifle to check out the area, and the mounted night scope was better in the dark than glassing the area. His sniper rifle was a Russian ASVK / KSVK 12.7 mm large caliber sniper rifle, fitted with a night scope. The shells were 12.7x108 mm, .50 Russian, and the rifle held five rounds in a magazine. His rifle was bolt action, so he wanted his first shot to be a killing shot.
As he waited he raised the window, cooked his meal and ate, and then screwed the silencer on the end of the barrel of his rifle. He washed the dishes and placed them in the dish rack to dry. He poured another two fingers of bourbon and then placed the bottle into his backpack. He would have no more drinks this night, unless his hit was successful. He threw some radical Muslim leaflets around the room and tacked a black ISIS flag on the wall of a bedroom. He then slipped the drinking glass into his pack.
Right at 7 pm a black SUV pulled into the parking lot and a couple of motorcycle cops moved their motorcycles to block all access to the building. A helicopter was seen hovering over the building. The two front doors of the SUV opened, agents scanned the area well as they walked, and then opened the rear doors. The chopper then began flying 360 degrees over the morgue.
When the President stepped from the vehicle, X1 lined up the sights, took a deep breath and held it. This target was seen in a pea green circle, and in a few seconds he'd be a dead man. As he slowly released his breath, he kept the cross-hairs on the man's chest, and began to gently squeeze the trigger. The shot wasn't loud, more of a loud thump, but he realized he'd missed his target and hit an agent by mistake. One of the men from the front of the SUV had stepped into his line of fire at the last second. He was down on his back screaming, blood spurting into the air, as one agent was talking on a radio and another had his body over the President, protecting him. X1 fired two more shots hoping one would strike his target. He knew he struck the man on top of his target, because his body jerked each time a big bullet struck him. The big bullets had to penetrate the agent and some injury must have been sustained by the President.
Finally, out of frustration, X1 aimed at the very top of the President's head and squeezed the trigger. In the scope he saw a shard of skull fly into the air, followed by a long finger of blood and brains, and the two bodies went limp.
Having worn his thin leather gloves at all times inside the room and keeping his stocking hat over his short hair, he knew he'd leave nothing for the cops to find, except an ISIS flag and some propaganda from the organization. He disassembled his rifle, placed it in a long flower box and then wrapped a red ribbon with a bow around it. Donning his pack, he stepped from the room. He walked from the apartment and then flagged down a cab.
His next stop was an apartment he maintained on the other side of town. This apartment was where he came to change or clean up after a hit. Weapons were hidden in the walls here, a couple of more identifications were hidden, as well as a variety of clothing in the closets. He removed the auburn wig, showered, shaved and then changed in
to suit and tie. He then washed and dried the clothing he'd worn earlier and placed them in his closet.
“Hello, baby. I'll be home in a few minutes. Why don't you light some candles and turn on some soft music? Great, I'll be there soon.” He then placed his phone back in his pocket.
Agent Joda May of the Secret Service, had jumped into action the second Agent Acker fell with a chunk of his backbone blown out of his back. As he lay screaming, May had contacted the chopper and reported they had a man down from a gunshot wound. The problem was, he'd heard no shot or seen any muzzle flash. One of the cops ran to the agents while another contacted his dispatcher to let him know there was an attempt on the life of the President. He requested an ambulance with a doctor to be rushed to the morgue.
A number of shots were fired and May only found out where they were coming from by seeing big holes suddenly appear in the body of Cox, who was protecting the President as well as he could. Cox began to scream as the pain registered on his mind, but then the President took a bullet to his head and for all practical purposes, it was all in vain. He quickly contacted the chopper by radio and it flew in the general direction of Agent X1's apartment. But few thought a sniper was that far away, so their search was in the general direction of the shots.
May ran to the President, rolled Cox off of him, and pulled him to the driver's side of the SUV. As he moved him, blood, pieces of skull and brain stained the concrete of the parking lot. He then ran to Cox and Acker, pulling them to a spot beside the President. He looked the President over closely and while he was still alive, the bullet that hit him must have been a .50 caliber because half his head was missing. He pulled a first aid kit from the truck, wrapped the President's head tightly, and then looked for other injuries. He had a huge hole in his thigh, another through his shoulder. He bandaged both. Acker was dead, his unseeing eyes open, and his mouth twisted in pain. May moved to Cox and found the man alive, but shot through the shoulder and a hole through his thigh as well. He'd just wrapped him up when two ambulances arrived.
