by TW Powell
2041
The Charters of Freedom
The United States Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence, are collectively known as The Charters of Freedom. For over 200 years, these documents were the guiding principles of the American Constitutional Republic.
The Collective desecrated and destroyed those documents on the very first day of the 2026 Revolution, or did they? It’s up to Captain Delvin Smith, Lieutenant Josephine Parker and their “Cast of Characters” to save The Charters, then thwart The Collective and their Chinese overlords’ plan for raping America’s resources.
Hiatus
Rumors were running rampant throughout the Resistance. The Black Patriot’s absence from the Voice of America airwaves was being noticed. Was he dead? Was he away on a mission? Was he simply on vacation? Amongst the Resistance, there was even a betting line on his whereabouts.
Then, on Midsummer’s Eve, the voice of Ben E. King once again graced the Voice of America shortwave service with his rendition of Stand by Me.
The Black Patriot was back on the air.
“Good evening fellow Patriots. This is The Black Patriot coming to you this evening from Ponca City, Oklahoma. It’s good to be back from a much-needed vacation down in New Orleans. I love New Orleans, such a rich blend of cultures and cuisines.
“While touring some old plantations around Baton Rouge, just on a whim, I went on one of those ghost hunting tours. After the tour ended around midnight, I wandered about the grounds and happened upon an old voodoo woman who told me a frightening bedtime story. This tale does not frighten us Patriots in the least, but it is a tale of other worldly horror for Members of The Collective.
“It was 3 a.m. on the 160th anniversary of Marie Leveau’s passing. We were sitting around a low campfire surround by ancient, moss draped live oaks. A storm was brewing off to the west. As a solitary owl began hooting, the old priestess spread a red silk cloth out upon the silty, damp, brown delta soil. When I say old, I mean she must have been at least 100, or more. There was a line on her face for each of those hundred years. As the lighting flashed off in the distance, she pulled out a small leather pouch. As the thunder arrived, with a trembling hand, she cast the bones out upon the silk. Then, she fell into a deep trance and began to divine. She cried out in pain as the spirits of American Patriots passed reached out from the other side. All that spiritual energy had conjured up a being she called ‘The Righteous One’, a terrifying, but just apparition.
“I took this all to be so much mumbo jumbo until I recently began hearing tales of The Righteous One. Most of these tales come from the Northern California area, but there are scattered reports of The Righteous One from across the country. I cannot verify any of those reports, but I can relate one recent report from the Reno area.
“A few nights ago, an underground Latter-days Saints church was holding a sacrament meeting when Peoples’ Militia burst into the building and dragged all the faithful out into the street to be denounced and summarily executed. As the neighborhood Members gathered round with bricks, rocks, and clubs in hand, ready to exact their perverted form of justice upon the loathsome Mormon fanatics, a thick cloud of sulfurous smoke enveloped the crowd. A dark figure seemed to materialize from within the smoke, armed only with a machete and a bullwhip. When the smoke cleared, The Righteous One had vanished, along with the Mormons, leaving behind a dozen Members dead in the street, including the disemboweled local Block Coordinator.
“Sleep tight tonight all you Collective apparatchiks.”
As Mickey Gilley’s melodious voice faded away, The Black Patriot was off the air.
The next morning, across the Peoples’ United States, there were numerous reports of a jet-black, robed figure exacting righteous retribution upon The Collective. The legend of “The Righteous One” was born.
As The Black Patriot returned to the airwaves, Jo Parker and her dog, Max, were part of the listening audience.
Jo smiled and whispered in old Max’s ear, “Our boy, Slick, is back on the job.”
Jo loved Slick as much as she could love any man.
The sun was just setting in the Big Smoky Valley of Central Nevada as the Jackson extended family rushed to gather round the shortwave. Thomas smiled as he heard his old friend back on the airwaves.
“Is that Mr. Smith on the radio?” Nurse Beth was unaware that Delvin Smith was The Black Patriot.
Dr. Ho replied, “Yes. Member Smith, Lieutenant Smith, Slick, and The Black Patriot, he has several identities, but his most important identity is American.
“I’ll drink to that!” Thomas broke out some pomegranate wine and proposed a toast, “To the most patriotic con artist I know, Lieutenant Delvin Smith. Sempre Fi!”
The 2nd Kentucky
The 2nd Kentucky Volunteers were growing tired of simply acting as a diversionary force while the 3rd Kentucky Volunteers were busy liberating Lexington and advancing on Frankfort. The common folks seemed to forget that the Hazard Hilltoppers and West Virginia Mountaineers had played a major part in the Battle of Lexington and the 2nd Kentucky had forced The Collective to reinforce Elizabethtown, thereby siphoning Peoples’ Militia away from the action in Lexington. The 3rd Kentucky got all the glory.
Life could be a lot worse for the 2nd Kentucky. 2nd and 3rd Brigades were camped along the Nolin Reservoir from Wax, Kentucky all the way north along Rock Creek. 1st Brigade was camped several miles to the north around Rough River Reservoir.
There were plenty of fish and waterfowl in the reservoirs and abundant turkey, rabbits, deer, and even wild hogs in the surrounding hills and forests. The farmers in the surrounding area voluntarily contributed supplies to the 2nd Kentucky, realizing that the 2nd Kentucky was all that stood between them and The Collective.
Unlike the Bluegrass Region of rolling farmland conducive to collectivization, Kentucky’s Pennyroyal Region was composed of hills, forest, and caves with relatively small tracts of arable farmland scattered about. Historically, this was a land of subsistence farming with King Tobacco being the major cash crop.
In this land of small farms, White folks really did cling to their God, guns, and Country. For generations, families worked small farms with many also holding down factory jobs in Louisville, Elizabethtown, or Fort Knox. Most every farm had a tobacco base, a prescribed acreage that could be devoted to growing tobacco. Every Fall, the tobacco crop would be sold, and proceeds used to place a down payment on a new car, or buy a new appliance, or maybe take a vacation. Some supplemented that income by occasionally selling a hog, or a steer. This was the epicenter of those whom the Liberal Elites decried as “The Deplorables”.
One year earlier, the 2nd Kentucky had liberated all the Racial Reparations Coal Mining Camps in the Western Kentucky Coalfields. Unlike the underground coal mines in Eastern Kentucky, the Western Kentucky coal mines were open pit operations, similar to the Round Mountain, Nevada gold mine and the Macon, Georgia kaolin mines. Most all of those liberated Debtors had joined up with the 2nd Kentucky, thereby swelling its ranks.
The 1st Kentucky had just liberated Paducah, the last Collective stronghold in Western Kentucky and was now moving northeastward along the Ohio River. A vise was slowly closing on The Collective’s bastion of Louisville.
Colonel Jimmy Haycraft, commander of the 2nd Kentucky, had just received new orders. The 2nd Kentucky was ordered to move north on Elizabethtown, and this would not be a demonstration.
Paw Paw
The West Virginia Panhandlers were camped somewhere in the rugged mountain wilderness south of Paw Paw, West Virginia. These old boys were cut from the same cloth as the Kentucky Volunteers. Jo Parker felt right at home.
The Panhandler’s camp wa
s the southern terminus of a modern-day underground railroad that began in New York’s Catskill Mountains and ran southward along the Appalachian Trail. Much like the 19th Century underground railway, this 21st Century version carried a human cargo.
This cargo was predominantly Jewish refugees from the major East Coast cities, New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, and the New Jersey megapolis. Scattered among these refugees were a few survivors of the 2030 destruction of the State of Israel, a mere remnant who had placed their hopes and very lives in the hands of the American People, the real American People.
The Paw Paw camp was only 35 miles west of Winchester, Virginia. Jo Parker just couldn’t shake the thought of how coincidental it was that she had hiked from her family home in Winchester, Kentucky, across the Appalachian Mountains, only to find herself camped near Winchester, Virginia.
Winchester, Virginia was a strategic point. During the American Civil War, Winchester changed hands over 70 times. It was the gateway to the fertile Shenandoah Valley and lay only 75 miles west of Washington, DC. Despite their best efforts to cancel and rewrite American history, these facts were not lost upon The Collective.
The Collective had reinforced a defensive line that followed along I-81 from Front Royal, Virginia in the south to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in the north. There were major Peoples’ Militia garrisons in Winchester, Martinsburg, Hagerstown, and Harrisburg. The West Virginia Panhandlers had observed those positions for the last several years. There were no Resistance attacks, but the Peoples’ Militia dared not venture any further west into the rugged wilderness. They knew what lurked in those hills and they were afraid.
The Collective’s fear was well founded. Gideon’s 300 was camped alongside the Panhandlers. During the Holocaust, an event that never happened according to The Collective’s history textbooks, Europe’s Jews were forced to wear the Star as an emblem of shame. Gideon’s 300 wore David’s Star as a badge of honor. Their motto was, “The road to Jerusalem runs through Washington.”
Namazu
Delvin Smith’s favorite shortwave hideout was the abandoned mineshaft outside Yuba City, California. The location was remote and secure. Abandoned mineshafts dotted the American West. They were extremely dangerous. The dangers included poisonous gas, flooded passages, and the ever-present risk of cave-in. The entrances to most of these mines were secured, typically with some sort of iron gate or chain link fencing. This particular mineshaft was secured with a wrought iron gate and heavy-duty padlock. Delvin had the only keys. His shortwave radio was stashed in a small, camouflaged alcove just off the main shaft.
Delvin had arrived about 30 minutes prior to his Black Patriot broadcast. During that half hour, Delvin was receiving, not transmitting.
The Namazu had risen to periscope depth while cruising beneath the rough, cold waters just outside the Golden Gate. The Namazu was the Shinigami’s sister ship, a virtually undetectable, silent instrument of death. At dusk, a small communications mast broke the surface of The Bay and began repeatedly broadcasting a short, encrypted message.
Delvin received and quickly decrypted the message. After he signed off from his Black Patriot broadcast, and even before Mickey Gilley’s melodious voice had completely faded out, Delvin was out of the mineshaft, had locked the gate behind him, and was bicycling his way back to his truck. He figured he had just enough time to drive back to Sausalito, park the truck, grab a beer and a pizza at his favorite pizzeria, then bicycle his way down to Black Sands Beach.
Delvin had his timing down pat. At precisely 2 a.m. he slid on his ass down the rough embankment to Black Sands Beach. The waters of the Golden Gate were particularly rough that evening, even up in Bonita Cove.
As Delvin looked out over the rough water, he thought to himself. “Man, I sure wouldn’t want to be out there on a small boat tonight.”
Delvin suffered from motion-sickness. It didn’t bother him if he was driving, but he couldn’t ride in a car, plane, or boat without losing his lunch.
Within minutes of his arrival, a zodiac appeared out of the darkness with two US Navy Seals onboard. Delvin signaled with a small flashlight.
The Seals landed, saluted Lieutenant Smith, then gave him the bad news, “Lieutenant Smith, you are to accompany us, sir.”
Delvin was regurgitating his pizza and beer even before the Zodiac had traversed the 200 yards of the turbulent Golden Gate out to the Namazu. After boarding the submarine, he was given a motion sickness bag and ushered below deck to a vacant wardroom. He collapsed into a chair, continued puking his guts out, and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. The Japanese ship’s surgeon appeared and gave Delvin a peppermint flavored antihistamine, then directed Delvin to rinse his mouth with a peppermint flavored wash. The doctor then stretched two large rubber bands and place them around both Delvin’s wrists. Within minutes, Delvin was feeling much better and stopped vomiting, just in the nick of time.
Delvin was just raising his head up out of a large plastic barf bucket when a US Navy Rear Admiral entered the wardroom. The Admiral was typical military brass material, White and fiftyish with greying hair, tall, and fit. He was accompanied by a civilian.
Delvin quickly sized up the civilian. He was White with freshly cut dark hair, medium height, clean shaven, and eyes that darted about the room noting every detail. He was probably a CIA Spook.
Delvin immediately rose to attention and saluted the Admiral, “Lieutenant Delvin Smith, United States Marines.”
The Admiral returned the salute, “You can be at ease Captain Smith.”
“Excuse me Admiral, sir, I’m Lieutenant Smith.”
“Not anymore, Captain.”
The Admiral then extended his hand, “Congratulations, Captain Smith, I’m Rear Admiral Andy Stone.”
The civilian spoke not a word. Delvin was continuing his examination of the man, trying his best not to be obvious.
The Admiral then continued, “Captain Smith, this is Mr. Jones. He will be briefing you.”
Delvin’s suspicions had just been verified. He thought to himself, “Mr. Jones indeed, this guy is definitely a Spook.”
After a pregnant pause, Mr. Jones finally spoke, “Captain Smith, are you familiar with rare earth elements?”
“Do you mean like gold and silver?”
“No, Mr. Smith, those are precious metals, also known as the noble metals, platinum, palladium, gold, and, to a lesser degree, silver. Those are not rare earths.”
“Then, I’m afraid I’m at a loss.”
“Rare earth elements are 17 heavy elements that are actually not all that rare, but commercially viable orebodies of those elements are quite rare. Those elements have specific uses in a wide array of high-tech applications including super conducting magnets, high performance alloys, and electronics. The rare earths are of strategic importance.
“From the mid-1960s through the mid-80s most of the World’s rare earth requirements were supplied by a mine and processing plant located in Mountain Pass, California, about 60 miles south of Las Vegas on I-15. As the tech market began to explode in the 1990s, the Red Chinese began investing in this sector. They developed their own rare earth deposits in Mongolia. Then, through utilization of slave labor, currency manipulation, and dumping of excess production on the world market, they drove the Mountain Pass operation into bankruptcy.
“Environmental issues contributed to the demise of the Mountain Pass operation. Over a period of 14 years, a 14-mile-long waste pipeline ruptured 60 times allowing radioactive process waste to spill out onto the desert. Some of those accidents went unreported. The rare earth elements themselves are not radioactive, but some of the impurities removed during processing, such as thorium and radium, are radioactive. The adversarial relationship that existed at that time between the regulatory agencies and the mining industry exacerbated the problem.
“The Chinese rare earth operations were not subject to the same environmental scrutiny that was focused on Mountain Pass. Between remediation costs, f
ines, and production shutdowns, the Mountain Pass operation was following restrictive American rules, while competing against the Chinese. who played by their own rules. By 2007, China supplied an estimated 96% of the World’s rare earth requirement. Once The Collective came to power, the Mountain Pass Mine was nationalized, then leased back to the PRC as a Racial Reparations Mining Camp utilizing slave labor with virtually no environmental regulation.”
The Admiral then jumped in, “Captain Smith, may I call you Devin, or would you prefer I call you Slick? The Admiral was now smiling.
Delvin calmly replied, “Sir, my friends call me Slick.”
“I guess right now I’m more of a fan than a friend, but I digress. Your little operation back in April has become legendary. You boys blew the hell out of Top Gun. Was Rambro in on that?”
“Yes Sir, Lance Corporal Darius Johnson was part of a three-man team that destroyed those Apaches and Warthogs on the ground at Fallon.”
“Then, somehow, you infected the whole damned ChiCom hierarchy with that virus from hell.”
“Sir, the virus was their own undoing.”
“That’s an understatement. The Chinese economy is in freefall. At this very moment massive funeral pyres are burning in every major Chinese city. Hong Kong and Taiwan are in open revolt.”
“Then our operation was a success.”
“Captain, it was almost too successful. When an authoritarian regime comes face to face with its own demise, it often lashes out, like a wounded and cornered animal.”
Spook Jones then continued, “Rare earth elements are crucial components of the high-tech weapons of war employed by modern nation states. Chinese rare earth production has crashed. At this very moment, the Racial Reparations Mining Camp at Mountain Pass, California is running 24/7 and undergoing a massive expansion. Heretofore, the Round Mountain facility sent mixed rare earth concentrates to China for refinement and separation into the individual rare earth elements. It now appears that the Chinese are installing separation and refinement circuits at the Mountain Pass facility.