“Now, meeting procedure,” Bresler continued professorially. Annette and Eric felt they should be taking notes, but knew better than to ask. “This meeting here tonight is rare in that it’s indoors, because Oscar and I wanted to sit down with you two, look you over, and have a nice long chat. Most of your meetings will be outdoors or in public places like restaurants, parks, museums, MAX stations, so forth and so on. You will not be coming here again, and after tonight all connection between the Army and this apartment will have been obliterated and it will have new tenants, probably illegal Chinese. Most of your meetings will be with Billy or Wade, but sometimes you will be told to meet someone you have never seen, in which case you will be given an identification and authentication procedure. When you meet such a person you will accept any command he or she gives you as coming from your Army superiors and do whatever he or she asks of you. It may be as simple as giving someone a ride out of town, they may ask you to hold a package or an envelope and deliver it at a certain time and place, they may ask you to find out some information and report it back, it could be anything, although it will not be a hit or a bombing. If and when we decide you’re ready for one of those, then Billy himself or else the Second Battalion explosives officer will walk you through it.”
“Meet a guy on the platform with a copy of the New York Times under his arm, sidle up to him and say ‘John has a long moustache?’” asked Eric.
“I always liked Climb Mount Nitaka,” chuckled Hill.
“Something like that,” replied Bresler with a slight smile. “When you are given a meeting date, you be there. ‘Stuck in traffic’ don’t cut it, because if you miss a meeting we’re going to assume something has happened to you, you’ve been arrested, and we kick in a whole lot of security and clean-up procedures, moving any arms dumps you may know about, closing down any locations you may know about, pulling people out of places where they might be exposed, so forth and so on. Remember what I said about punctuality. When you set out for a meeting, leave early and always spend a minimum of an hour wandering around town, checking to see if there’s anything suspicious that looks like you may be followed. Park your car some distance from the meeting point and proceed on foot, again checking for surveillance. If you get there before the person you’re supposed to meet arrives, then you hang around sipping a Starbucks or reading a newspaper or something for fifteen minutes and no more. Any longer than that and it starts to look obvious to an observer that you’re loitering. If that happens, you immediately phone in to Billy or to Wade that the meeting was missed. You then go to your E & E point until we can investigate and find out what the hell happened. Any questions so far?”
“What if we think we are being followed?” asked Annette.
Wayne Hill fielded that one. “First off, try to be certain. Make sure your eyes and your gut aren’t playing tricks on you if you can, because if you’re being followed that means the feds have made you as a Volunteer, and that is almost as bad as an arrest itself, not to mention meaning that your arrest may be imminent. The clean-up procedures begin just as if you hadn’t appeared for the meeting at all, and continue until we debrief you and figure out what’s going on. It’s better to be safe than sorry, of course. Just try to be as sure as you can.”
“Be especially watchful going into the immediate area of the meeting,” said Jackson. “If you see anything that doesn’t strike you as kosher, pardon the expression, then you exit the area, and as soon as you can you text a one-word message to me or to Wade. The present code word is spaghetti, but that changes regularly. You then try and lead whoever is surveilling you as far away from the meeting place as possible and try to shake them at the same time. Then when you think you’ve shaken them, you go to your E&E point.”
“E&E point?” asked Eric. “You mentioned that before. What’s that?”
“Escape and evasion point,” said Jackson. “Each of you needs to pick out a place, a secret place known only to you and no one else, where you can go if the heat comes on. You must tell no one else, not even each other. Every Volunteer has such a place in reserve, usually several.”
“The key to your safety is that no one must know,” said Bresler with added emphasis. “Also, it can’t be any place like your Aunt Sadie’s house, no place with any connection to you or your family where ZOG will think to look. You take your special phone with you and then you wait for someone to call you. Do not try to call us or anyone you know after you send the bailout code word, because if you are in fact being surveilled, they have a number of ways they can monitor your call and see who you’re calling. Remember, a lot of times police surveillance is deliberately heavy and easy to detect, because what they’re trying to do is panic you and see who you call, where and who you run to.”
“What if there’s a mass raid and everybody except us gets picked up?” asked Eric. “What if all of a sudden there’s no one on the other end to make that call to us in our hideout?”
“If you don’t hear from anyone in a reasonable time, then you assume that’s what has happened,” Bresler told them frankly. “Then you fight on. Just the two of you, or if necessary, just the one. A Northwest Volunteer is a soldier, and he or she is expected to carry on active and armed resistance against the Zionist occupier until they can no longer do so through death or imprisonment. You must take responsibility for forming your own team of new recruits, then a company, then a brigade, so forth and so on, the cell that began with just the two of you dividing and reproducing like an amoeba. That sounds impossible, doesn’t it? Well, I can tell you it has already happened, especially in the weeks and months after Coeur d’Alene. There were cases where three, two, even one Party comrade was cut off completely, and instead of going into hiding they fought on and regenerated into working, fighting crews and even whole companies before they managed to re-establish contact with the Party and the rest of the Army. If your hearts are strong and your courage does not fail you, it can be done. We are Aryans. We can do anything we want.”
“And the outlook isn’t quite that bleak,” said Hill. “We have in fact been able to establish some procedures to bring Volunteers in from the cold when need be. There are some numbers you can call if you get cut off, and in time you’ll know them. You won’t be given those now, because to be blunt you haven’t really been seasoned yet. We give you two credit for a bravura performance with that nigger Flammus, but you have to understand that we need to size you up and work with you for a while before we trust you with certain information. This is nothing personal. It’s for everybody’s safety, including your own, and it’s a precaution we have to take for the success of the Army’s mission. No offense.”
“None taken, sir,” said Eric. “Annette and I know we’re on the bottom of the totem pole, and in any army the privates always get the shitty end of the stick. No offense, sir.”
“None taken,” replied Bresler with a low, rumbling laugh. “Speaking of the shitty end of the stick, we need to brief you on what to do if you are arrested. This is the bad part, and I’m not going to try and sugar-coat it. As you know, since 9/11, under the Patriot Act and assorted subsequent Homeland Security laws, you no longer have any right to remain silent or right to an attorney or phone call or anything like that. All the arresting officer has to do is log you into the jail or some military base as a so-called domestic terrorist, and the United States Constitution ceases to exist. They don’t even bother to ship people out of the country anymore; every federal and military police facility now comes equipped with special sound-proofed interrogation rooms and instruments of torture, under what they call the Dershowitz Protocols. The guy that dreamed them up was a Jew professor at Harvard Law School, believe it or not. But simple arrest may not be as bad as it seems at first. It depends on what they know, and we’ve found they often know a lot less than they let on. More and more people are getting picked up in just plain random sweeps, for purposes of interrogation and intimidation. Institutional terrorism, in fact. ZOG just pulls in a mixed bag of people,
shakes it up and sees what falls out. You could get picked up for just being in the wrong place at the wrong time or simply because you have a white skin. If it looks like that might be the case, then you play innocent to the hilt, deny everything, and scream at the top of your lungs for your lawyers or in your cases, since you’re rich, you scream for Daddy and Daddy’s lawyer. I gather both your parents are sufficiently wealthy to have some pull with the system?”
“My father is CEO of one huge bank and president of three or four smaller ones, and on every financial board of directors on the West Coast, and my mom is the daughter of a United States Senator,” said Annette, “And my other grandfather was governor of Oregon once. I’ve been a guest at the White House and played in the Rose Garden with that little gook kid Chelsea Clinton adopted. I don’t think I could just disappear without my folks raising a hell of a stink.”
Eric spoke up. “My dad’s an IT engineer, he runs his own company, and he’s an inventor. He’s got enough high-powered patents and video game copyrights to choke a horse. He’s almost as rich in his own quiet way as Annette’s family, and I know he wouldn’t ever give up until he found out what happened to me.”
“Yeah, well, you get DT slapped on your jacket once you’re inside, and nothing’s any good anymore,” said Bresler. “Nobody’s pull will help. We’re scaring the bejesus out of those leeches in Washington, D.C. and Jew York worse than anything that’s happened since the Third Reich, and they’re lashing out in sheer panic and terror. But it can’t hurt. Like I said, play innocent as long as you can and if it’s just a roust, they might kick you loose. But once it becomes absolutely clear that they know, and you’re not going to talk your way out of it, then you clam up and you give them nothing, and I do mean nothing, other than the Five Words. I have nothing to say.”
Oscar spoke up. “We used to caution people about not trying to play verbal games with the cops, not making the mistake of thinking they could outwit them, but the horrible fact is that this latest batch of thugs out of Quantico don’t even seem to be trying to do that anymore. They’re so filled with fear and mindless hate for whites, not to mention twisted sadism, that they just use the stick now, never the carrot. Beatings, torture, and worse stuff.”
“You will be tortured,” went on Bresler matter-of-factly. “Every kind of beating imaginable, of course. The good old ZOG standby, waterboarding. Needles under the fingernails. The electric chair with electrodes on your nipples and your genitals and up your bodily orifices. Injections of acid under your skin. Being flogged with wire whips heated red-hot. An old Roman technique called the strappado. Some federal facilities even have a mechanical rack with steel rollers, so they can quite literally go medieval on your ass. Since 9/11 and the Patriot Act, all this is now perfectly legal for any prisoner who has been arbitrarily classified as a terrorist, with or without reason. These men and women who run these interrogation centers and prisons will do things to you that would make a dog vomit. They have been given absolute and uncontrolled power over your body and they will use it to the utmost, to get information for their Jewish masters and also because they enjoy the hell out of it. No one expects you to endure it, although I never cease to be amazed at the stories that come out of these infernos of certain comrades who never break, of others who have died under torture without saying any more than the Five Words. The Army asks that you give us twenty-four hours so we can break down and relocate anyone and everything you can spill. That’s all. We ask that you endure whatever agony they put you through for a single day, and then as much longer after that as you can, as a matter of your own personal honor and commitment to a future when such horrors will not be. You will know when the time comes when your body and your soul can take no more. But until that time comes show us, show yourself, and show God how strong you can be.”
Hill interjected in a quiet voice, “You should also understand that ever since Abu Ghraib, it is public knowledge that the United States routinely uses systematic sexual humiliation as a method of torture and degradation to break the spirit of their real and perceived enemies,” he told them. “It will start when you are strip-searched and your body cavities violated by guards and police and FBI agents of the opposite sex, in the case of NVA prisoners these officers being almost always black or brown. You will be walked along corridors and cell blocks and displayed naked and in chains in front of other prisoners, and you need to realize that you will both almost certainly be repeatedly raped by non-whites and by homosexuals and lesbians, both sexually and with assorted foreign objects, which sometimes results in hemorrhage and death. I’m not trying to frighten you, comrades. I’m trying to prepare you. This is what our enemies do.”
“We’ve thought about this,” Annette replied. “This is what has to end. That kind of thing is why we are doing this, among other personal reasons. That kind of horror is what we’re fighting against, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Hill with a respectful nod. “It is.”
“Billy, since you’re going to be these two young comrades’ CO, you might want to take it from here?” suggested Bresler. Jackson got up from his seat at the window, and without comment the executive officer rose as well and went over and replaced him, keeping an eye out the window on the street outside. Jackson sat down in the chair Bresler had vacated. Annette tried not to stare at Jackson, yet she was surprised at how ordinary he looked. He was a wiry young man with a neat haircut, not too much older than she was, not even much beard to shave so far. Yet she saw a strength and maturity about him that she could almost never perceive in the white boys of her own generation, except for Eric. His green eyes had a coldness about them that would have told her, even had she not known who he was, that here was an incredible being who had become almost unknown in her lifetime, a genuinely dangerous white male. She shivered with the realization, in an instinctive, ancient feminine recognition. She was beginning to understand exactly what she was getting into.
“There are some other things you need to know about the way Volunteers operate, comrades,” Jackson told them. “Have you been shown a copy of the NVA General Orders?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Eric. “They’re on the internet, if you know where to find them.”
“Much to ZOG’s displeasure, yes, they are,” said Jackson with a snort of wry amusement. “You need to memorize the General Orders, but don’t print them out or download them. Possession of a hard copy and downloading are both federal felonies, technically still a capital offense, although since they appeared on the net and so many people are familiar with them now, they’re backing off on that somewhat because they’ve finally twigged that it’s kind of ridiculous to execute someone for looking at a web page. But they are tracking down any hapless kids who download them, beating the crap out of them, and sometimes prosecuting as well. I assume, then, that you have read General Order Number Ten?”
“Yes, sir. Don’t worry, we both know we have to stay straight,” Eric assured him. “We tried pot a few times like most kids our age, but neither of us are really into it, and even before all this happened we didn’t drink that much anyway.”
“From now on you don’t drink at all. Period, end of story,” Jackson told them flatly. “I won’t even mention drug use. I shouldn’t have to, because it’s beyond the pale. Niggers and Mexicans use drugs, white people don’t, and that’s the name of that tune. Wade tells us that he’s had his eye on you and there is no sign of that in either of you two. If there were, you wouldn’t be here, no matter how many bubble-lips you clipped. I am sorry to say that there are some officers in the NVA, especially some of those crews out in Idaho, who are slack on enforcing General Order Number Ten. You need to understand very clearly that I am not one of them.”
“It’s a centuries-old American issue,” said Oscar mildly. “Total prohibition has always been simply impossible to enforce. Hell, they tried to dry up the whole country from 1920 until 1933, and they couldn’t do it.”
Jackson scowled. “Yes, sir, I know,
but this isn’t a history lesson, this is a deadly serious fight for the survival of our race and for our own personal survival in the face of a monstrous and murderous enemy. We are trying to bring down the worst and most powerful tyranny mankind has ever known, and we’re doing it on nothing but sheer ferocity and raw guts. Never before in human history have the material odds between two combatants in a conflict been so lopsided as this. We cannot do this with drunks, and human nature being what it is, the only way that we can make completely sure our Volunteers are never drunk at a crucial moment when they are needed to do their duty to their race, is to demand and receive total abstinence, as in you do not under any circumstances put alcohol into your mouth. The NVA is a disciplined revolutionary organization, a paramilitary organization, and we have the right and the duty to demand this as a matter of personal fitness to serve. I will accept nothing less than 100 per cent compliance from any Volunteer under my command. If a man cares more for his whiskey bottle or his beer than he does for his own future and the survival of his race, we neither want him nor need him. Or her. A drunk or a pothead is a danger to himself and others, and it would be lunacy to try and get mileage out of him. If you two can’t stay off the weed and the booze, there is a very good chance that you’ll get yourselves arrested or killed, which I would be sorry to see. Not to mention the fact that you might get other members of A Company arrested or killed, and you might get me killed, which I damned sure don’t want to see! There is one, and only one exception to this General Order, a certain special kind of duty that we’ll discuss with you later on this evening, Comrade Ridgeway.”
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