by Mark Goodwin
Howe stated, “Rosa, I received a call from Brian Casik, the CEO of Halliburton. He’s concerned that religious meetings inside the camps could become breeding grounds for malcontents. Do you feel that’s a valid concern? We need to keep Halliburton on our team, DHS isn’t in the position to take on security, logistics and management of the camps.”
The DHS Secretary concurred. “Not only do I feel religious meetings have the potential to become problematic, I think all forms of religious expression do nothing but pit people against each other. This entire conflict stems from Paul Randall’s Christian worldview.”
“And what could I do to help this situation, Madam Secretary?” Howe offered.
“I think banning religious materials like Bibles from the camps would be a good start. These are state-sponsored camps. To have religious materials inside the fences violates the principle of separation of church and state. And I think it would ease the concerns of Mr. Casik”
“Consider it done. It sounds like you’ve got things under control, Rosa. Good work,” Howe complimented.
“Thank you, Mr. President,” Ortiz replied.
“Scott, can you let the cabinet in on Operation Black Out?” Howe requested.
“It’s top secret, Mr. President,” The Defense Secretary answered.
“Everyone in this room knows we are at war, Scott,” the president scolded. “They’ve all seen how this administration handles insubordination. No one here is in a hurry to end up in a CIA black-site prison. Besides that, they all have the DARPA chip implanted in their hands. Regardless of whether you think they can be trusted, do you think I appoint fools to these positions?”
Anthony Howe had an uncanny talent for switching from cordial to a seething, hate-filled maniac in nanoseconds. He could go from compliments to insults and threats in the same breath.
Scott Hale quickly complied. “Yes, Mr. President. Operation Black Out will be a strategic attack against the Coalition utilizing electromagnetic pulse technology. The EMPs will be generated via high-altitude detonations of nuclear devices over specific geographic targets within the Coalition. This will cripple their electrical grid and disable most of their vehicles and all computing equipment. We will allow for a three-month period after the attacks for the citizens of the Coalition to expend their resources and become weak. Afterwards, we should be able to walk through and reclaim the territories with minimal effort.”
Howe gleamed as he listened to Hale lay out their dastardly plan. If anyone disagreed, they dared not voice their opposition.
CHAPTER 7
“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”
-Romans 12:12
The morning sky was just starting to reveal the first hint of daybreak. Justin had slept a few hours before his watch, but it was very hard to stay alert. The long walk the day before and the intensity of the attack two days ago had taken all of his energy. He needed to sleep for a couple of days to get caught up on his rest.
He woke Gary and said, “The sooner we get started, the sooner we can both get some real rest.”
Gary stretched the stiffness out and got up to begin the final leg of the long hike. “Let’s do it, then.”
The two set out toward Hazard. They found a creek to refill their canteens and added two more of the Betadine swabs to each one. They gave the iodine a few minutes to react with any potential pathogens, then drank those canteens and refilled them, adding one more swab to each.
When they hit an oak grove several miles along their journey, they stopped to fill their pockets with acorns. The small bit of mush inside of each was a lot of work to get out, but it provided enough energy to get them to their destination.
Once they arrived on the outskirts of Hazard, they kept to the roadsides so they wouldn’t stick out. Before long, they were at Gary’s sister’s house. He went to the back door to knock. Gary’s sibling, Laurie, wasn’t expecting him and let out a loud scream when she saw him at the back door. Gary put his finger to his mouth and took off his boonie hat so she could see it was him.
Laurie let the two men in and Gary gave her a detailed account of the engagement. “You two must be starving. Let me make you some toast, bacon, eggs and coffee before I drive you back to London.” She was up and had things out of the refrigerator before they could answer. Both men were anxious to get home to their families, but they were also starving.
The men ate and Laurie drove them back to London. In little more than an hour, they reached the city and Laurie dropped Justin off first.
Karen and Rene ran outside when they heard Laurie’s car pull in the drive. They were both observably optimistic. Rene’s optimism was soon replaced by elation when she saw Justin step out of the vehicle. Karen’s face went white with despair when she saw Matt was not with them.
Gary and Laurie drove away and Karen quizzed Justin for details.
He told her all he knew. “We were crossing the road to get away when DHS vehicles drove up on us. Matt couldn’t cross so he went back into the woods. Gary and I kept going.”
“Why did you leave him?” Karen asked.
“We had no choice. It was Matt’s call to split up,” Justin answered.
Karen was hesitant. “Do you think he’s alive?”
“Karen,” Justin answered, “there is absolutely no way of knowing that. All I can say for sure is that I did not hear any gun fire in Matt’s general vicinity after we split up. I honestly think that I would have heard a shot if he was killed. I was specifically listening for gunfire from his location to know if he was taking fire.”
“Okay, that’s something. Thank you,” Karen replied.
Rene hugged Karen and Miss Mae rubbed Karen’s leg. Karen reached down to pick up the little cat. She held the animal close as she scratched her behind the ear. Miss Mae always had a way of knowing when someone was in need of a little affection.
CHAPTER 8
“The purpose of government is to enable the people of a nation to live in safety and happiness. Government exists for the interests of the governed, not for the governors.”
-Thomas Jefferson
Paul Randall finished getting his notes together for the meeting Monday afternoon at his Kerrville, Texas ranch. The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it, sir,” Sonny Foster called out from the other room. Sonny was Paul’s right-hand man. He served as Paul’s campaign manager during the previous presidential campaign. Randall had intended to make Sonny his chief of staff had the decision awarded him the office, but that didn’t pan out. Sonny still proved to be invaluable to Paul Randall and to the Coalition movement.
Sonny escorted the guest to Randall’s office.
“General Jefferson, welcome,” Paul said.
“Hi, Paul,” the General replied.
Sonny said, “Governor Jacobs should be here shortly. I have individual laptops set up over here so we can teleconference with the governors of the other Coalition states via our secure VOIP network.”
Paul’s wife, Kimberly, walked into the office and gave the General a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Allen. I’m putting together a tray of cookies and a coffee service tray for your meeting. Do you have any special requests?”
“I would appreciate a pitcher of water if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Jefferson replied.
“No trouble at all.” Kimberly disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the refreshments.
The doorbell rang again and Paul said, “That must be Larry. I’ll go let him in.”
The security on Randall’s property rivalled that of the White House. Anyone who made it to the front door was obviously a friendly, the doorbell was simply a courtesy to announce one’s arrival.
Paul opened the door. “Larry, it’s good to see you. Come on in.”
The men found their seats and Kimberly brought in the coffee, water and cookies. “Don’t you boys make a bigger mess out of the country than what you’ve already made,” she joked. The men all laughed as Kimberly excused
herself.
The men started their meeting and Paul Randall laid out his agenda for the material he wanted to cover. “Gentlemen, thank you all for making the effort to be here either in person or via teleconference. It’s not my intention to recreate the Constitutional Convention here today. Rather, I would like everyone to start a brainstorming campaign over the next few days. I do not believe that we need to rewrite the Constitution. We are not the entity in this civil war that has broken away from our heritage. I don’t think anyone present today would disagree that it is the Federal States who have broken away and are in rebellion. I would also say that they have already invested much time and energy into rewriting the Constitution over the past several decades.
“With that being said, I also believe that there is great danger in deifying the founders or attempting to canonize the founding documents as being the divinely inspired words of God. We should remember that even in 1787, there were compromises made between those who wanted a smaller government and those, like Alexander Hamilton, who wanted a federal government with a strong hand. Hamilton believed in a central bank, a standing army and many other principles that, despite Aaron Burr’s best efforts, bore fruit and corrupted what could have been a great government.”
The men chuckled at the Aaron Burr comment.
Randall continued, “Gentlemen, today we do not have Alexander Hamilton or his ilk to dissuade us from what is possible. I believe we have an opportunity to correct the blemishes that found their way into our founding documents. I think we have been given the chance to make clarifications on gross injustices such as abortion that our founding fathers could never have anticipated. I think we have the opportunity to put up safeguards that will restrict a federal government from growing into the behemoth that we presently find ourselves having to fight against.
“In all of this, I think it is important to remember that we are but mortals. I pray that we will look for divine counsel in seeking a better path. Our forefathers had many advisors from the Church. The Black Robe Regiment was a group of pastors who were instrumental in the battles as well as the politics of the American Revolution. I believe it is important to seek input from men of God in clarifying and defining our Constitution. One such man who has proven to be both a patriot and a man of God is Pastor John Robinson of Liberty Chapel in Idaho. He has been spreading the message of freedom from the pulpit for several years. I would love for all of you to think about who else might be a good fit for what I would like to call our Black Robe advisory board. Psalm 33 tells us ‘Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.’ Personally, I’m tired of living in a country that is cursed because our god is not the Lord. To turn this around, we must put up safeguards to protect our children from the falsehoods which have been taught through the public schools. They need to know that they were created by God who has a plan for their lives. So much evil has come from teaching our children to believe the myth that they evolved from an ameba.
“I really believe this war is a gift, a second chance to safeguard our blessings of liberty. Let us not squander it by bowing again to the federalists and liberals.”
The sounds of claps could be heard coming from the men watching via teleconference. The men continued their meetings. General Jefferson gave a brief update on the state of the military campaign and each governor of the individual Coalition States gave a report on the condition of their respective state.
Paul Randall closed the meeting with prayer then said, “Gentlemen, talk to your state-level and federal-level representatives about the issues they would like to address. We’ll get back together via teleconference on May first and use those notes to come up with some proposals for the individual state legislatures to vote on. I realize that our representatives as well as all of us were elected prior to the meltdown and that things have changed. We may have to discuss a vote of confidence from our constituents to ensure that we still represent the people. God bless you all and stay safe. I’ll talk to you next week.”
CHAPTER 9
“We must, indeed, all hang together or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.”
-Benjamin Franklin
Matt awoke. He couldn’t detect any light coming through the cracks of the door. It was maddeningly black. Matt tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t. He began praying quietly to God and reciting Bible verses as they came to mind. His stomach was starting to growl again, but if the schedule remained as it had been over the past two days, the small serving of porridge wouldn’t arrive for another fourteen hours or so. Matt felt his way to the fresh water bucket. He placed the fresh-water bucket on the farthest corner of the cell and the sewage bucket nearest to the cell gate. This made it easy to discern them in absolute darkness. Matt cupped his hands and drank to quell the rumblings in his stomach.
Matt heard a very faint “Psst.” It was coming from the cell next to his. He felt his way through the darkness to the chain-link fencing separating his cage from the one next to him.
“Hello?” the voice whispered ever so faintly.
“Hi,” Matt replied in a volume just above silence.
“I’m Theodore Morris. I’m a doctor, folks where I’m from call me Doc,” the voice whispered.
“I’m Matt,” he whispered back.
“How long you been in here?” Doc asked.
“Two days, this will make three. Seems a lot longer though,” Matt replied.
“Any idea what happens to us next?” Doc inquired.
“Not at all,” Matt said. “Did you see any details about where we’re being held?”
“I was blindfolded when they brought me in,” Doc said.
“Me too,” Matt whispered. “Where are you from?”
“Huntington,” Doc answered. “I was suspected of giving aid to wounded militia and brought in for questioning. I was held all day yesterday with wrist restraints and a blindfold, but no one ever questioned me. I guess questioning means you’ve already been found guilty. I never thought I’d see this in America. I heard folks warn of it, but never paid them any mind. I labeled them as kooks. Well, I guess I was the kook for not believing them. I suppose I had a comfortable life and didn’t want to believe anything could change that. Even when it started happening, I tried to stay neutral. I didn’t want to get involved. I guess my side has been chosen for me now.
“When I treated those boys, I didn’t even know they were militia. I suspected something, but didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t realize it was a crime, ‘til now. Someone must have sold me out.”
“Sounds like a popular pastime,” Matt said softly.
“What’s that?” Doc quizzed.
“Selling people out,” Matt answered. He gave his new friend the abbreviated version of what happened to him.
“I picked sides a long time ago, but I’m in the same boat you’re in,” Matt said.
The men sat silently for a while, then Matt noticed a faint glimmer of light through the crack of the door. “Day break,” he whispered.
“Oh yeah,” Doc acknowledged.
Two hours later, they heard the lock being pulled from the door. Matt closed one eye so it would not adjust to the light. He recommended the same for Doc.
“Smart thinking,” Doc said.
The light flooded in and a guard yelled, “Everybody up. Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work you go. I’m going to kick wrist irons and leg irons under your cell doors. The last prisoner to get his on is getting his face kicked in.” The guard walked down the corridor of the container, kicking two sets of handcuffs under each door. Matt’s cell was the last cell, he had an unfair disadvantage to get his restraints on. His heart started to pound thinking of the cruel punishment for being last. As soon as the cuffs appeared under the cage door, Matt grabbed them and put them on. He was still last to get them on.
The guard could see the despair in Matt’s eyes. “Just kidding,” he laughed. “Everybody get up. We’re going to get you boys suited up so you can go mine coal.”
One of the pri
soners near the front door protested, “That’s slavery!”
The KBR guard drew his weapon and Matt could see the man at the other end of the container cover his face with his hands. POP, POP, POP. The guard fired three shots very deliberately and in quick succession. He did not hesitate and appeared to have no remorse for his action when the man fell to the ground. These were some bad people.
The guard holstered his weapon. “President Howe wants me to remind you that the work program is absolutely voluntary. You are free to opt out at any time. Do I have anyone else who wishes to opt out this morning?”
The only sound was the ringing inside of Matt’s ears from the gun being fired in a metal shipping container. The men were chained to a single chain that was about thirty feet long. One guard led them to a prefabricated building where they were unhooked and given jumpsuits, boots and hard hats, one at a time. While he waited for his turn, Matt took the opportunity to survey the surroundings. The camp was filled with shipping containers similar to the one Matt was housed in. Outside of the fences were several mobile homes. “Those must be the living spaces for the guards,” he whispered to Doc. Matt looked around for signs of civilization. It was all trees and he could hear no noises outside of the camp other than the sounds of the forest. The fence was twelve-feet high and had razor wire strung across the top. Security lights faced both directions from each of the four corners. A guard came to Matt, disconnected him from the central chain and led him inside to be equipped.
