Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1)

by L. Douglas Hogan

  John James took a drink and looked across the table.

  “Gentlemen, Marines and Sergeant First Class Reynolds, I’m glad you all have made it this far. Admiral McKanty and I have spent the last few months traveling through adverse conditions, from the District to where we now sit at the Black Hills Army Depot, South Dakota.

  “We’ve suffered losses along the way, meeting new friends and tasting what America had become. My newest friend, Charles Buchanan, has endured even harder times, traversing from Illinois to northern Indiana and now to South Dakota. Most of you have endured similarly these last few months.

  “We have all tasted the brutal reality of this new America we now find ourselves in. Truth is, I saw this coming a long time before it became reality. Belt and I were the longest-serving Joint Chiefs, so it stands to reason we are very close friends.

  “I brought my concerns to Belt, who shared the same feelings I did, and we constructed a plan to lay the groundwork for a reinstitution of constitutionality. President Adalyn Baker, just as her predecessors failed to do, held no one accountable for the government’s wasteful spending. I exploited this vulnerability and reactivated the 21st Marine Corps Regiment. I funneled funds into the unit, under the guise of FEMA structuring, and was able to ship military gear, weapons, air support, and Marines into the undisclosed location.

  “While this was happening, President Baker continued to support UN legislation geared towards globalizing the United States currency and laws. She would often call on the Joint Chiefs of Staff for security-based questions and strategic placement of FEMA headquarters and the conversion of federal penitentiaries into FEMA internment and relocation housing compounds.

  “In these classified meetings, we often objected to the president’s notion that we should be involved in the international community, in any degree. She often rebuked us, giving us clear instruction to oversee her plans for involvement in the new world order.

  “The plan was to have the UN enter the US through the Gulf of Mexico, utilizing the Mississippi River to reach the Midwest, Canada to reach the northern states, the Pacific Ocean to reach the western states, and the Atlantic Ocean to reach the eastern states. With this plan, the UN could peacefully enter the US under cover of martial law, to set up control zones and eventually set up control points for the relocation of American citizens from the cities to the processing centers, otherwise called Human Handling Centers. Basically, every state prison would function as a receiving and shipping center. In larger rural communities, control zones would be managed where people would be relocated.

  “To the president, hunger would be a powerful motivator to move people from the cities. Invoking the executive orders that her predecessors had set up before her made her task easy.”

  Hensworth raised his hand to ask a question.

  “Yes, Colonel?”

  “Sir, I’m having a hard time believing that there’s enough space in all the state prisons and federal prisons combined to accommodate the US population, even adding in makeshift processing centers.”

  “You’re correct, Colonel. There’s not enough space. Enter Relocation Protocol. The best and brightest of Americans would be interned at special wings of these compounds. If they cooperate, their families would be allowed to stay with them. If they resisted, then they were to be sent to Chicago’s crematorium, a converted steelworks plant sitting on Lake Michigan’s southern shore, where they would disappear.

  “There were other meetings regarding biological research and development. Much of it was over my head, but I clearly remember talks of inoculating Americans with sickness to control fertility. The research was also supposed to involve injections that isolate favorable genes in humans, allowing for a more genetically superior selection process, but the serum had the opposite effect, it was breaking down human immune systems instead. The last I heard, there was an outbreak of smallpox and other nasty diseases. Fifty percent of all FEMA-controlled compounds were fitted with Bioengineering and Research facilities. These buildings were supposed to be given to scientists capable of performing ongoing research. We left before further results were shared with the Joint Chiefs.”

  “That’s quite a bit to take in,” the colonel said.

  “And completely believable,” Lieutenant Colonel Barnes said. “Our own government has been spoon-feeding Americans this stuff for years, and they never saw the ramifications of what might come to pass.”

  “Mandated immunizations, government housing, cell phones, energy assistance, and debt forgiveness. It all fed into the larger narrative that the government was prepping American dependence upon larger government,” Lieutenant Colonel Cox said.

  “The bottom line, gentlemen, is the government became too big for its britches. It was allowed to expand and to have control over every aspect of daily living, because too many Americans became dependent upon free stuff, and when that free stuff was taken away, the government used it to control the masses. A bigger government became the solution, and what’s bigger than federal government?” James asked.

  “Global government,” Buchanan answered.

  “You’re as sharp as a tack, Charles. The answer became global government. The only people who saw the greater narrative were the American constitutionalists, who were villainized as Bible-thumping, gun-toting, liberty-fighting patriots.”

  “So here we are. A regiment and a half of Marines, a few hundred militia, and some Army. Our army may be larger than that of most countries, but is it enough to start an offensive against a global community?” Hensworth said, as if asking rhetorically.

  “Honestly, I didn’t dream this up on the backs of our military support. I was reading my history books, researching the Revolutionary War, when it came to me.”

  The table saw that the general’s facial expression changed. James was having a hard time trying to put into words what he was trying to say. He knew Hensworth’s comment about the global community was true, and he also understood that peace was won through superior might, but the answer he found hard to speak out loud was the truth that America could only be strong when the everyday American said, “Enough is enough” and rose to the challenge.

  James took a few moments to organize his thoughts into words that could sell.

  “Buchanan braved over fifteen hundred miles with a few Marines and a militia. I escaped from the District with the help of patriots. I had to have a few eye-opening experiences before I could see this truth, but America was built on the backs of everyday Americans who were willing to say enough is enough. History will show you, gentlemen, that only about three percent are willing to take this stand. A quote that won’t leave my mind…a quote that I go to sleep thinking about, if my memory serves me correctly, was spoken by a British captain in 1763. His name escapes me, but the quote was, ‘Hammer the Americans hard enough and you will forge the best weapon in the world.’”

  James ended his motivational speech with that quote, and it raised the hair on the back of each of their necks.

  “Gentlemen, all they need to start that fire is a spark. Freedom is a burning fire inside of every American. Once that flame starts, nobody can control it.”

  “I’m in,” Hensworth said.

  “I’m in,” Buchanan added.

  Around the table, the comment was repeated until each and every officer had committed themselves to the cause. When it came back around to James, he added, “In the words of Patrick Henry, ‘Give me liberty or give me death.’”

  Abandoned UN Control Point, Mount Vernon, Illinois

  Very little sunlight was entering the doorway of the train car. Jess, Tori, and Jones had shackled the Iranian man to the wall of the car. The way the transport car was designed allowed for the prisoner to be stretched, hands over head and legs spread. This made escape all the more difficult. His arms and legs were spread more than shoulder width apart. There was a center restraint system installed, but no straps were present. Lance Corporal Jones had removed his belt and secured the hips of the
thin Iranian man to the restraint bar that was running horizontally along the length of the wall. Unable to thrust his hips, lower his arms, or kick his legs, the man was at the mercy of his captors.

  “I bet you’re going to speak perfect English now,” Tori whispered in his ear. It was loud enough for Jones and Jess to hear, but the reason for the whisper was to set the mood, not to keep people from hearing her.

  “I speak English. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Jones left their side and went to the back end of the train car and sat down with his back resting against the wall.

  Jess pulled a knife out of her boot and poked it just to the left of the man’s eye.

  “You don’t need your eyes to speak English, blue man.”

  “Please don’t hurt me. I will talk.”

  “Where did your friends go, blue man?”

  “I no understand.”

  Jess put more pressure on the knife and leaned in to provide for a thrust of the knife should he not comply with her request.

  “Wait a second, Jess,” Tori interrupted. “You’re doing it all wrong.”

  “Oh, and you’ve interrogated people before?”

  “Interrogated? Really? Is that what we’re calling this? Let’s not be coy, here. This man has information we need and we’re going to torture him until he feeds it to us.”

  “Fine, you torture him, then.”

  Jess tossed her knife to Tori, but Tori didn’t catch it. She just let it hit her chest and fall to the floor. She had to dodge her feet to avoid being stabbed by it.

  “Easy, girlfriend. I have my own methods.”

  Tori reached into her pocket and pulled out some chunks of tissue paper. She proceeded to tear off little pieces and shove them into her ears.

  “What are you doing?” Jess asked.

  Tori pulled out her shiny 1911. “Meet Bubba.”

  “So now we’re gonna shoot him?”

  “Precisely,” Tori said, pointing her gun at the Iranian and pulling the trigger.

  Jones jumped up and Jess ran out of the train car. Jones followed after her, jumping out of the car and holding his ears. The gunshot was so loud that both of their heads were ringing.

  When Jess and Jones came to their senses, they looked back to see many of the Marines, including Nathan and Denny, running to their location.

  Tori was now standing next to the Iranian man with her gun pointed at his head. She was screaming in his ear, “Now you’re going to tell us where the rest of the UN soldiers went or I’m going to blow your pathetic blue head off.”

  Nathan noticed the man was bleeding from his leg where Tori had shot him.

  The man was answering her question out of fear and pain.

  “They were reassigned by the executive commander to report to Independence, Iowa.”

  “Why were they reassigned?”

  “The executive commander has received word of a large gathering of resistance fighters in South Dakota. They are to rally in Independence to form an assault strategy.”

  “Where’s the rest of Americans that were here?”

  “The trains left with what they could, and when the next train didn’t arrive, we were ordered to get rid of the excess.”

  “Who’s this executive commander you speak of?”

  The man didn’t answer, so Tori shot his other leg. The man was now almost completely hanging by his wrists.

  Screaming, the man said, “Please stop shooting me.”

  “I’ll stop shooting you when you start answering my questions.”

  The group was standing outside of the train car, watching and hearing everything.

  Jess was still rubbing her ears when she leaned into Nathan and said, “I don’t know if I love her or hate her.”

  The Iranian man said, “If I talk to you about him, he’ll kill me.”

  Tori laughed at his comment. “Can’t you see? I’m going to kill you if you don’t.”

  “His name is Abdul Muhaimin. His reach is long, he hears everything, and I’m sure he sees you coming.”

  Tori pressed the gun to his head even harder, causing him to cry out.

  “I’m telling you what you want.”

  “What else can you tell me about Abdallah Mammon?”

  “It’s Abdul Muhaimin. He was a captain in the Iranian Jihadist Wars. He won many awards to be promoted to general of the UN forces in America. When the US president died, he announced himself executive commander of America and UN forces in America.”

  “The president is dead?” Sergeant Banks asked.

  “Did he say the president is dead?” Nathan shouted to Tori.

  “Yeah, he said she was dead. Now he’s going to tell us how she died.”

  “I don’t know how she died. Nobody knows and nobody asks.”

  “What are your long-term orders?”

  “To move all citizens from these US cities to the trains and barges, for transport to the Human Handling Centers. From there, they are separated into categories.”

  “And what categories are those?”

  “Vital and invasive.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “Vital citizens are interned until Relocation Protocols are initiated.”

  “And what of the invasive citizens?”

  The man was beginning to feel faint and was having difficulty speaking. Tori caught on to this and unshackled the man’s first wrist, letting him dangle by one arm while she unshackled the second. The man fell to the floor and Tori jumped off the train. She walked over to Jess and said, “Your turn.”

  Jess rolled her eyes at Tori.

  Nathan looked at Denny and said, “Can you patch him up? He’s got more to tell us. Maybe he’ll open up more later, seeing how we were so nice.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Nathan hadn’t heard that from Denny for a while and it reminded him of more peaceful days.

  Sergeant Banks looked at Nathan and said, “That was a lot of information. We need to sit down and talk about it.”

  “What’s to talk about? The president is dead, the United States has been invaded by the UN, and our people are being called invasive and shipped to certain death.”

  “You forgot the part about the UN forces being reassigned to Independence, Iowa, for some kind of support.”

  “That means Illinois isn’t going to have as much opposition,” Jess said.

  Nathan, returning a look to her, said, “They left him behind; they’re sure to have more spies lying around.”

  “I think they left him accidentally,” Banks said.

  “How can you tell?”

  “Well, would they really leave him with no ammo? I bet they took off without a roll call.”

  “I got something even better out of all that,” Tori said. “If the UN is pulling all their manpower to Independence, Iowa, then there must be a sizeable resistance there.”

  “We haven’t heard a peep out of the UN communications systems we have; otherwise, we might have heard what’s going on,” Nathan said.

  “Perhaps that’s because they’ve changed their tactics, and we don’t know what they are, but I bet he does,” Banks said, pointing to the Iranian man.

  Denny hollered down from the train car. “He’s going to need some blood.”

  “What type?” Nathan asked.

  Denny searched for the man’s ID or service tags, in search of his blood type. “I can’t find anything.” Denny thought for a moment and tried to remember his training. “He’s going to need O negative.”

  Banks turned around and started shouting, “Do any of you have O negative blood?”

  Most of the Marines were shaking their head no.

  “Okay, then, it’s hardball. Let’s see those tags. Take your tags out and hold them up.”

  Banks walked around to each Marine and inspected their dog tags. When he came up to Lance Corporal Jones, he saw O negative on his tags.

  “I’m not willing to donate to a blue hat.”

  “This isn’t about
saving him, Jones, it’s about saving us. It’s about saving America. He’s got information we need.”

  “Fine.” Jones started rolling up his sleeve.

  Digging into his medical pack, Denny found that he only had one field blood-transfusion kit. Rethinking his plan, he asked, “I only have one of these, Nathan, are we sure we want to waste it on him?”

  “I can’t think of a nobler reason than to save priceless and life-saving information for the American people.”

  Denny had Jones relax on the edge of the train car door while he tied a tourniquet around his upper arm. Using the blood-transfer device and the blood-pack unit, he collected 450ml of blood from Jones and tried to give it to the Iranian man, but he was cold and Denny couldn’t find a vein.

  “I need a couple of you up here to help me heat him up. He’s cold.”

  Everybody stood around looking at each other, hoping that somebody else would volunteer. Tori finally broke the silence, “Okay, I’ll do it, but only if I get to be the one to render him invasive when we’re done with him.”

  “Done,” Banks agreed.

  Tori climbed up into the train car and kicked Denny out.

  “Sorry, Den, but this is our private time and you don’t get to peek.”

  Tori closed the door and undressed the man. She was disgusted to do so, but it was a matter of survival and saving a dying man. After she had exposed his skin, she bared hers next to his to share her body heat. After a few moments, Denny checked in on him and Tori. He caught her rolling off of him and turned his head away.

  “That should be good enough, Tori. Sorry, I should have knocked.”

  “I’m just glad it’s over.”

  Denny opened the door the rest of the way to let in more light. Then made his second attempt at finding a vein; after a few pokes, he was given blood.

  The man’s legs were already patched up. Fortunately, the shots were clean and the bullets didn’t sever any arteries.

  By the time the Iranian man had awakened from his sleep, the group had attached one of their portable generators to a small insulated building and warmed the interior. With the man’s vitals now under control, he found himself lying on the floor next to Tori. His hands were zip-tied and his legs were throbbing.