PROJECT BlueBolt - AMERICAN GULAGS: BOOK I - AMERICAN GULAGS

by Marshall Huffman

  “Sure sounds like one to me,” Chief Drew answered.

  “Did to me too. You know I think it would do them some good to spend a few hours in jail until we can look into this further. Threating an official is a very serious crime.”

  “I agree.”

  The captain pushed a button on his desk and four men with M16’s entered the room.”

  “These gentlemen need to be escorted to the holding cells. They are to talk to no one. Collect everything on them and make sure no one has a chance to discuss anything with them. Understood?”

  “Absolutely Captain. Gentlemen,” one of the men said nudging him with the barrel of the gun.

  “This isn’t over.”

  “Maybe not, but for you it is,” the Governor replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY- NINE

  President Clemons face was beet red, almost turning purple.

  “Mr. Spears,” she barely choked out, “I want to be perfectly clear. And believe me, this is the last time I am going to say this to you. Don’t you ever come back into this office and tell me some Governor or Senator or I don’t care who else has sent your agents packing with their tails between their legs. This had better be the last time. I told you before, take as many men as you need and get the job done. Do NOT show your face in this office again with a report like you just gave me.”

  “Madam President. The men were in the police station. It would have been an all-out war.”

  “Look at me Mr. Spears. Do I look like I care? I assure you I do not. Shoot your way out or whatever you have to do but don’t come back until the assignment is finished. Pass that along to your men. Failure will be met with harsh consequences. Do I make myself clear Mr. Spears?”

  “Yes ma’am. Do you want me to send a team back to get Mr. Harris?”

  “You’re damn right. I want those guns confiscated and him and his wife to disappear. Send them to a facility in Alaska. Just get it done. We are wasting too much time while your agents tip-toe around. You need to step up to the big league Mr. Spears or you will find yourself on the outside looking in. Understood?”

  “Yes ma’am. Perfectly.”

  “Then get it done.”

  “Immediately.”

  ****

  Four Blackhawk helicopters escorted by two Super Huey gunships came in low over the tree tops at 2:45 a.m. Even with the narrow space to maneuver in, the forty-four ISS special troops repelled down and within minutes surrounded the Harris house. The three policemen at the house never had a chance. Not even bothering to tell them to surrender they immediately shot and killed all three.

  Mr. Harris yanked open the door with a 12 gauge shotgun in his hand and was immediately shot by three of the agents. He was dead before he hit the ground. One of the police must have gotten a call out because the ISS agents could hear sirens headed their way.

  They roughly grabbed Edina, trussed her up, placed a sling over her and hauled her up to the waiting helicopter. Long before the first police car could arrive, the six choppers were already headed back over the city.

  “You killed my husband,” Edina cried but no one even bothered to look at her as she sat there rocking back and forth. If this is what their boss wanted they damn sure intended to deliver from this point on.

  ****

  Similar raids were taking place all across America. A master list of gun owners was distributed to every agent and teams swarmed in, confiscating guns and ammunition. Where resistance was met, the ISS agents used everything at their disposal. There was no subtlety as they went about the business of collecting guns. Several times the Super Huey’s were used to virtually level homes were stiff resistance was met.

  Even collateral damage was no concern as they used tracer bullets that often started fires. In many cases it was mass slaughter as whole families were wiped out.

  By the end of the month they had collected an additional 30,000 thousand guns and over 150 tons of ammunition.

  The media portrayed the raids as attacks against ISS agents checking on the legitimacy of weapons. Not one single mention was given to the slaughter perpetrated by the ISS agents.

  Even when people did surrender their fire arms, many were hauled off to ‘relocation camps’, especially if they found an illegal gun or one that had been modified. A large number of the population across America was simply disappearing.

  ****

  Mark Walker had never been so scared in his entire life. In fact he almost chickened out on several occasions. Not only could he loose his media license but he could probably be arrested for treason.

  He had stalled so long that he almost missed the connection with his contact. He boarded the North Broadway Bus #6 and headed uptown to 12th Street. There he got off and took the first cab in line and asked to be dropped at the George Street Hilton. When he got to the Hilton, he walked in the front door and immediately sat down in the lobby just watching the crowd. Finally after ten minutes he got up and walked out the side door. He caught another cab and was taken to the 24th Street Four Seasons Hotel.

  ‘Well Mark old boy, if they are still on your trail, you are just SOL,’ he decided as he went inside. He took the elevator to the fifteenth floor and knocked on the door to room 1514.

  He was taken aback when a tall black haired woman answered the door and motioned for him to come in. He started to speak but she put her finger to her lips. Three other men were in the room and were using some kind of electrical device as they walked around the room. After a few minutes one of them gave her a thumbs up.

  “Alright we can talk now. They have set up a distortion field and checked for bugs.”

  “Good Lord,” was all he said.

  “Yes. Please sit down Mr. Walker. This is going to take some time.”

  “I wasn’t expecting quite so many people,” Mark said looking around uncomfortably.

  “They are technicians. Don’t concern yourself with them. Now we need to get down to business.”

  “I guess I’m not entirely sure what ‘business’ we are talking about,” Mark said.

  “Mr. Walker. Do you have any idea how many people have just disappeared over the past seven months? I mean totally disappeared as if they had never existed.”

  “I know some people have but I have no way of knowing how many. I did do some checking on a few and found that they seemed to have vanished but I don’t know where they have gone to,” he told her.

  “Today, as far as we can tell, 79,000 plus or minus a few have simply ceased to exist. Think about that for a minute. How could that many people just vanish?”

  “Well, I guess I would have to know where you are getting your information to even render a guess. What proof do you actually have?”

  “Yes. What proof indeed,” she said reaching into her briefcase and handing him a large stack of pages. They were from banks around the country. The lists were comprised of people who were no longer making house payments and could not be reached via normal channels.

  He raised his eyes as he looked down the list of names and the states. Almost every state had ‘missing’ homeowners listed.

  “Interesting, by not very conclusive. Foreclosures happen all the time. People just walk away from the mortgages.”

  “And 79,000 in just a few months sounds perfectly normal to you?”

  “I guess I don’t really know what ‘normal’ means in this case. Obviously you think you know what has happened to them,” Mark said.

  “As a matter of fact we more than just think. We know where a lot of them are.”

  “I see. And where would that be?” he asked.

  “Some are in Alaska, around 30,000 or so. Another 45,000 are in internment camps in New Mexico. Some, who are considered a serious threat to the government, have been sent to SuperMax prisons.”

  “Wait. What are you talking about? What internment camps?”

  “We have found out that there are at least twenty camps set up and waiting for political dissidents. They are located in remote areas in Alaska, New
Mexico, Nevada, Arizona, and Texas. Alaska has six operating right now.”

  He just looked at her trying to process this information. What he was wondering was, were these people completely crazy and if they were, was he in any danger. Now he was wishing he hadn’t even come to the meeting.

  “Look this is all very interesting but it is just supposition. I mean, how do you really know any of this and how can you prove it to me?”

  “Ah, let me show you,” she said flipping on a projector pointed at one of the walls.

  “These were taken just a few days ago. Believe me it is difficult to get these pictures. They have established no fly zones around the internment camps so we had to resort to rather unusual methods. We used remote controlled model airplanes with cameras attached. Even then it was dangerous. Now this first shot was taken near a place called Tergo Mountain, in Nevada,” she said.

  The picture showed row after row of wooden structures that were surrounded by four rows of razor wire. People could clearly be seen moving from place to place.

  “What is that exactly?” Walker asked.

  “One of six internment camps in Nevada alone.”

  “And you’re saying they are there because of something the government thinks they did that was against the law?”

  “Against the government’s perception of the law. Owning an unregistered gun, having more than they think they should have, or speaking out against the government. Any number of things can land them there. Here is something you probably don’t know. Neighbors are being encouraged to turn in others that they know or suspect have guns or have made statements about the current administration.”

  “Hold it. I don’t believe that for one second.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s just crazy talk. People don’t do that sort of thing in this country. Our government isn’t going to give a reward for someone turning in someone for just spouting off. We have freedom of speech in America,” Mark insisted.

  “Really? So you can write whatever you want and the paper will print it?” she shot back.

  “Well not exactly.”

  “So where is your freedom of speech? Do you know they are getting ready to announce that it takes a permit to gather in groups of fifty or more with the exception of approved sporting events?”

  “What? Where are you getting this stuff? I haven’t heard one word about any of this. Look, I believe you think you are getting accurate information but I have to tell you, you are just way off base on this stuff. Our government may not be doing everything the way it has in the past but I hardly think they are dispensing with the Constitution,” Walker insisted.

  “Mr. Walker, you need to wake up and look at what is going on around you. We set this up because we thought you would be smart enough to dig in and find the truth. Obviously you are willing to swallow the government’s line that they are just trying to cut costs and make America safer. The question is, safer at what cost? It appears you are willing to give up your personal freedoms over the long run for a short time of safety. How many countries has that happened to in the past. Americans will not stand for the suspension of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights,” she replied.

  “And I think you are running from ghosts. You are suffering from ‘conspiracy syndrome’,” Walker said standing up and heading for the door.

  “Wake up Mr. Walker, before it is too late,” were her parting words.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Governor Quinn had just finished a Town Hall meeting and had spent a considerable amount of time talking about the Federal Government’s attempt to interfere with the individual states rights to operate. He was somewhat taken aback by many of the attendees having little to say or even seeming not to care.

  “Look people, we are talking about the Federal Government having your local police force under the control of an Inspector General appointed by the ISS. That means policy would be implemented by them rather than our local police. That amounts to a Police State. The Inspector General would have direct control over the interpretation of our local laws and ordinances. Think about that for a minute. Instead of a parking ticket you could be put in jail if the Inspector General decides to change our current practice.”

  “Governor Quinn, you are being just a tad overly dramatic aren’t you? I doubt anyone is going to go to jail for parking illegally. Besides, all I have heard you do so far is talk about how bad it could get. You haven’t said one word about the alternative or what you propose we do about it,” a woman said.

  “Let me answer that in two parts. Yes I have talked about how it could go in abstract terms. I realize there are some ‘what if’s’ involved, but on the other hand, we have seen what they are capable of. You all heard about the Harris incident. They came and tried to take him and we objected. That did not deter them one bit. Instead they sent in a military team with helicopters and shot and killed Mr. Harris and took his wife and no one has heard from or seen her since.”

  “I read what the papers said. The story is quite a bit different from what you are saying.”

  “The media is controlled by the Federal Media Czar. They have to print or say what they are told,” Quinn replied.

  There was a general murmur in the crowd and soon people started leaving.

  “Okay, you mark my words. You think you are safe, but I’m telling you right here and now, your time will come,” he practically yelled as the last few filtered out of the room.

  He just stood there shaking his head. People were always willing to stick their heads in the sand and hope it didn’t affect them. Sheep. It was pathetic. He gathered up his materials and headed to his car.

  He opened the door to his limo and threw his briefcase in disgustedly. Climbing into the back seat he sat for a moment with his eyes closed.

  “Let’s call it a night,” he told his driver.

  He laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He rested for several moments before he looked out the window.

  “Tom, where the hell are we? This isn’t the way to my house. What are you doing?”

  “Sorry Governor,” the driver said closing the partition between them.

  “Tom. What the hell are you doing, Tom. Tom, I want an answer,” he shouted.

  He reached over and found the door locks wouldn’t pull up. The car drove down a desolate road and stopped. The door locks popped up and two men, one on each side of the car reached in. One grabbed him and yanked him out and threw him to the ground. The other man joined them and they dragged him along to the small ditch by the side of the road.

  “What the hell is this all about? Who are you people?” Quinn insisted.

  A third man joined them.

  “Well, we meet again,” Agent Crossman said.

  “Crossman?”

  “Very good. You remembered my name. You know you caused me a great deal of discomfort when I got back. My boss really ripped into me. I was nearly demoted. Now here I am to correct that little failing on my part,” he said taking a gun out of his pocket and pointing it at Quinn’s stomach.

  “You’re a government agent. You can’t just go around killing people because you are upset with them.”

  “You see Mr. Quinn, that is where you are wrong,” he said and shot him in the chest three times.

  Quinn slumped to the ground, his eyes open. Crossman stood over him and looked down at him.

  “You shouldn’t have pissed me off,” was all he said as he shot Quinn in the head.

  “The Police Chief next?” one of the other men asked.

  “Absolutely,” Crossman replied.

  ****

  Mark Walker wasn’t sure what to believe. Worse, he didn’t even know how to go about checking out the information he had been given without ending up in jail himself. He had already been warned that he was being watched. His last meeting with Cheryl Morse had ended up in the ISS telling him that they were watching him. It was going to make digging into these stories very difficult.

  He had been a r
eporter long enough to realize that this was the third source all pointing to the same thing. One thing was definitely clear, people were disappearing and the freedom of speech had been essentially stripped from the media. Finally, he formulated a plan.

  ****

  “You? Taking a vacation?” the editor asked.

  “I thought it was about time.”

  “Yeah, everyone should do it every ten years or so. How long has it been since you took time off?”

  “I honestly don’t even remember. Karen died eleven years ago so I guess it’s been that long.”

  “So how long to you want to take off?”

  “I don’t know. I guess two weeks. I don’t really know if I will last that long. I can’t see sitting around doing nothing for two weeks but what the heck.”

  “You can always come back early if you get really bored. Any idea where you might go to? Got any relatives you are thinking about visiting?”

  “The last thing I want to do is impose on relatives. I may drop by and say hi but I’m not good at staying at people’s houses. I would rather stay in a hotel.”

  “The ‘fish and guest both start to smell in three days’ syndrome,” the editor replied.

  “Exactly.”

  “Well enjoy,” the editor said.

  Mark had already formulated a vague plan. He would pack, leave his cell phone at home so it couldn’t be traced, and buy one when he got to his destination. He had looked at several places but finally decided on driving to Idaho first. Once there, he would purchase a GPS and another cell phone. He could always say he had accidently left his at home and just bought another while he was traveling.

  When he had finished packing, he sat on the bed and thought about what he was getting himself into. This could be even more dangerous than he realized. He went to the closet and took down a wooden box that had belonged to his father. Opening it, he saw, still wrapped in the brown paper it came in, a Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum pistol. It seemed like overkill but he decided it just could save his life.

  The last thing he did was pull his car into the garage and he went over it as best he could, looking for any tracking devices. He found nothing as far as he could tell.