“Yeah. I had beaten out hundreds of other swimmers across the state and then I won against the ten best and I remember standing there with ten other girls looking down at my silver medal. I felt sick to my stomach. The sense of accomplishment and all the hard work I had done to accomplish my goal were crushed.”
“Why’d everyone get a silver medal?” West asked. “Why not just give everyone a gold medal?”
“The gold medal was awarded to the state Athletic Department. Can you believe that? That was the last day I ever swam competitively.”
West shrugged. “What can you do?”
Sam pointed to the copy of Atlas Shrugged. “I discovered this book shortly after and it changed how I looked at the world. And it completely changed how I viewed the United States of America. Rand said, that man, everyman, is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and his own happiness is the moral purpose of his life. Anyway, the govacrat got what she deserved.”
“What happened?”
“She was found murdered at her home two weeks later.”
West remembered the pilot’s story and he began to ask her what had happened but thought better of it. He returned to the books and next to Atlas Shrugged was The Prince by Machiavelli.
That’s kind of weird, West thought. Ann Rand and Machiavelli were on opposite sides of the philosophical spectrum.
Rand felt a man was a means to an end while Machiavelli supported the employment of cunning in general conduct and he felt there was no such thing as immoral behavior. The means, any means, always justify the ends. West thought the corrupt bureaucrats and the people behind the rise of state collectivism held Machiavelli’s moral code.
Tank set his wine glass down. “It’s time.”
“Time for what?” West asked.
“You are about to witness what few people have ever seen.”
“What’s that?” West asked.
“You ready to take the red pill?”
“I thought I already had?”
Tank laughed. “You are about to meet the representatives from every major resistance group in the United States or as the government calls them the LT’s.”
“They’re here?” West asked.
“Yep. Even the ones you didn’t think existed. The Rand Coalition, The Constitutionalists, The Patriots, Tea Party, The Capitalist Society and the leaders from each region of The American Militia.”
“Why are they all here?”
“I guess you’re about to find out.” Tank answered.
Tank set his glass down and West followed him and Sam out of the library.
“Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here, this is the War Room!”
– President Merkin Muffley
Chapter 19
They walked down a hall until Tank stopped in front of a storage closet. He opened the door and motioned for them to step in. They all squeezed into a room that was barely big enough for them to move. Tank took out his phone and quickly pressed some numbers on the keypad.
West felt a movement and was slightly thrown off balance before realizing the storage closet was actually moving down.
He looked over at Sam. “It’s an elevator,” she replied.
“We’re going to an underground complex,” Tank added. “It’s where the meeting is taking place.”
After about 30 seconds the storage elevator stopped then opened. West followed them down another hallway that led to a door. Tank flung it open and they entered into what appeared to be a large conference room with monitors and computer terminals lining the walls.
A large round table was in the center of the room where leaders of the various LT groups were seated. Tank walked over to an older woman who was sitting at the head of the table. He whispered something into the ear and she nodded.
Sam took his arm and led him to a row of chairs situated a few feet behind the table. They sat down and Tank took the last seat at the table next to the older lady who then stood, cueing everyone in the room to rise.
They stood and Sam whispered into his ear, “That’s Margaret Simmons, the leader of The Patriots.”
West looked over at her with astonishment. Simmons looked more like a grandmother who should be playing bridge rather than leading a government designated terrorist organization. West had heard rumors The Patriots were responsible for the trial and execution of Senator Reidson and the assassination of the Federal Reserve Chairman. Supposedly, The Patriots had declared war on Washington, DC and anyone working or supporting them was considered fair game as an enemy combatant.
Simmons began to recite the Pledge of Allegiance and everyone in the room joined in. She then called upon one of the militia members who followed with a prayer asking for guidance, strength and wisdom.
After the prayer everyone sat and Simmons announced, “We all know why we are here. We have dreaded this moment for years but DC is close to implementing its Final Plan. Their endgame will be the last stage for the creation of a virtual prison in the United States. The Final Plan will make every person in this country a prisoner, a slave with no rights, no privacy and no escape.”
“We have learned that within the next two weeks the President in conjunction with the Homeland Security Director will issue an Executive Order that will require every single person in the United States to be imbedded with a microchip. This microchip is a state-of-the-art tracking and recording device that once implanted will be impossible to remove.”
An anxious murmur rose from the room.
“Quite frankly, I’m surprised it took them this long,” one of the militia leaders replied.
Simmons turned around and motioned to a man behind her who stood and approached the table.
“It’s worse than you think,” Simmons continued. “I’ve asked Dr. Hamilton to brief you on this chip and DC’s plan. He was an original member of the scientific team that designed the chip technology.”
Looks of pure hatred burned in the eyes of the LT representatives and the atmosphere in the room turned palatable.
Simmons must have expected the response because she quickly added, “For the last two years the doctor has been providing us with valuable information about the program and we asked him to stay on the job, despite great personal risks. A month ago he was briefed on DC’s Final Plan and that’s when we extracted him. We all owe him a debt of gratitude.”
Simmons words seemed to temper the atmosphere in the room and she sat back down, giving the floor back to the doctor.
He looked around the room and began, “I know many of you probably detest me due to my work with the government. I am not here to ask for your forgiveness. I have been a scientist for my entire adult career, over fifty years. Most of you don’t remember what this country was like forty or fifty years ago but it was a much different place. Back then I was proud to work for the United States and I truly believed I was helping this country. The history books won’t be able to pinpoint an exact moment, or an event that led us down the road we have chosen. It just slowly happened. Bit by bit this country crumbled into what it has become today. Yes, I admit to you I am guilty in that I should have left or done something years ago but I can’t change that now. What I can change is the reason I stand before you now and that is to hopefully help you stop DC’s Final Plan Project.”
“Excuse me Doctor, but how do they expect to be able to successfully implement this program,” a Rand Coalition member interrupted angrily. “There will be tens of millions of people who won’t stand for it.”
“It will be easier than you think,” the doctor quickly countered. “They will phase the plan in over a period of five years. I’ve seen the data from the forecast models. The country’s non-incarcerated population is around 250 million. The government statisticians calculate that 80 percent of the country will be, for lack of a better word, good sheeple and accept the chips in the name of national security bu
t mostly for personal survival.”
“Survival. What, are they going to execute anyone who refuses to be chipped?” the Rand representative called out.
“No. But for starters all forms of government benefits will be tied into the chips. The Executive Order states that any citizen who has not been micro-chipped cannot receive one penny in government funds. That means no Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, grants, health subsidies, unemployment benefits, food stamps, and DigiDollar supplements. Absolutely no financial assistance at all if you refuse to get chipped. And if you work in a federal job or with any government subcontractors or affiliated companies your continued employment will be based on complicity.”
There was a murmur in the room at the realization of the scope of the government’s plan.
The doctor continued, “So the statisticians believe the remaining twenty percent of the population will be divided into two categories. Those two groups are simply referred to as The Reluctant and The Hardcore. The Reluctant will represent 95 percent of the remaining population who will refuse the initial micro-chipping and that comes to roughly ten million people. DC estimates that 99.2% of this group will accept implantation of the chips within five years.”
“That’s bullshit. How do they figure that?” the Rand representative asked.
“First of all, remember they will get no government financial assistance so many of these people will agree to it eventually. But there will be additional executive orders phased in after the first year. The orders direct that if you are not chipped you won’t have access to medical treatment or health insurance benefits. It will be a government requirement for employment, hospital treatments, or medical emergencies.”
“I still believe DC is way off on their statistical assumptions,” the Rand member interjected with a lot less confidence in his tone.
“Remember, The Reluctant are the population segment that does not include you or the people that support you. They are independent minded but they are in The System and to remain there, they’ll have to be chipped. Let me give you a couple examples of how easy it will be to get a Reluctant who initially rejected the chipping to succumb. Say a child gets sick, so the mother takes that child to the doctor. Let’s say the child needs medicine or god forbid a lifesaving surgery. At this point every medical facility will have at least one employee from Homeland Health who has only one job which is to coerce the chipping of the Reluctant. The case would be turned over to the Homeland Health Representative who will give the mother two choices. Either accept the implants for everyone in her family or the child receives no treatment. I don’t think I have to tell you the pressure that would be placed on any family faced with this dilemma. It is a near 100 percent certainty they would eventually give in to being chipped. Here is another example. Let’s say a father is called in by his boss and is given the ultimatum, get chipped or lose your job. What do you think his choice will ultimately be if he needs to make money to provide food and shelter for his family?”
West watch the Rand rep shake his head, acknowledging the truth in the doctor’s statement.
The doctor looked at each individual in the room. “The last population segment would be The Hardcore, which basically represents the LT’s. This is you. Your demographics only represent less than two million Americans. The numbers have been run and even if not a single LT voluntarily accepts the chip, from an actuarial standpoint the majority of this segment will be deceased within a decade. Keep in mind the government databases will also identify all suspected LT’s and they will be rounded up by special task forces and given the choice of being chipped or sent to a FEMA Camp. Additionally, all newborns will be required to be implanted at birth. If you have a baby at any hospital or medical facility within The System, the infants will be chipped. There is no way of getting around it. The numbers are what they are and within five years 90-plus percent of the population will be chipped and within a decade 99.8 percent of the U.S population will be chipped forcibly or not.”
One of the militia leaders stood and angrily replied, “We’ve discussed this possibility for years now. I think we’ve heard enough from the doctor. All of us have known this moment would come, and now it is here. It is our duty to our children, our grandchildren, to all future generations to make it right. I’ve heard enough. I motion that we move to vote for American Phoenix?”
Simmons appeared to hesitate but then she wearily asked, “Do I hear a second?”
A round of ayes were affirmed from the other members.
“I really thought it would never come to this,” Simmons said as she took a piece of paper out of her folder and began reading, “I call to a vote, that the groups represented in this room will issue a cease and desist order to Washington, DC. Our order demands DC completely eliminate the plan to microchip all its citizens.”
She looked around the room then continued, “If our demands are not met we will authorize the launch of multiple nuclear bombs into the atmosphere directly above the United States, resulting in an EMP event that will complete the job of halting the micro-chipping by destroying most electronics circuitry in the United States. The EMP pulse would also effectively end DC’s control of America.”
She put the paper down on the table. “I remind everyone that if we carry out our threat it will also result in the death of millions, maybe tens of millions of innocent Americans. And our actions could very well lead to the end of the United States as we know it.”
“The United States as we know it is not an acceptable alternative,” the Rand representative replied. “It has been dead for decades.”
“I think we should open the floor up for debate before we call a vote,” Simmons announced.
“We have debated this possibility for years now,” a militia leader interjected. “There is nothing left to discuss. Anyway, our ultimatum is a moot point because I promise you DC will halt their Final Plan after we prove to them we are not bluffing. The fact is they don’t have the guts to go forward because DC’s desire to stay in control far outweighs all considerations.”
Another militia leader banged the table with his fist. “Mr. Boyle is right. We’ve already discussed this and as much as I hate to call for it, it is time to vote.”
Simmons nodded and replied, “All those in favor of issuing the Phoenix Ultimatum to DC signify by raising your hands.”
West looked over at Sam in disbelief. Would they really nuke their own country? He felt a wave of revulsion surge through him. He wanted to scream out to somehow stop the vote but he knew there was nothing he could do to change anyone’s minds.
With little hesitation all seven voting members raised their hands. Simmons slammed the gavel down on the table.
“I’ll have the American Phoenix Ultimatum delivered to Congress, the President, the Supreme Court justices and all media outlets by tomorrow morning. This meeting is adjourned.”
“In a time of universal deceit–telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
– George Orwell
Chapter 20
West watched in stunned disbelief as the room cleared. Tank walked over. “I bet you didn’t expect that, huh?”
“What do you want me to say?” West stammered. “This is pure lunacy. Don’t tell me there is any chance you nut jobs would go through with that asinine plan.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, neither side has the guts to call the other’s bluff,” Tank casually answered.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Sam replied.
Tank looked at his watch. “I’ve got some good news, West. I got word you’ve been cleared to return back to New York.”
“What are you talking about? A day ago I was wanted for murder and now I’m free to go back? This is all beginning to smell like shit to me. You know what, I don’t want to be a part of this anymore, so thank you for helping clear my name but just take me back to New York and we’ll call it all square and we both can go our own ways.”
“What the hell are you going to do
then?” Tank angrily replied. “Become a mindless worker drone like 95 percent of the world? Or are you going to wait around for the Dracun to remember its unfinished business with you? Either way, you might as well just consider yourself dead.”
“I tell you what I’m doing, I’m going to get the hell out of this country as fast as I can. I don’t care if I get shot in the process because if you ask me you’re all fucking crazy.”
Sam began laughing but Tank looked more and more pissed. “I thought you were naive West but I never took you for a coward.”
“I don’t give a shit what you think. I think I trust you about as much as I trust DC or the Dracun. I want no part of a group that would even think about nuking their own country. Talk about fucking cowards. There’s got to be another way. “
Before West had time to react Tank slammed him up against the wall. “I want you to listen to me you son of a bitch. You’re all in on this. I pulled every string and favor I could muster to clear your name. You work for me now whether you like it or not. You’re going back to New York. You’re going back to the paper and you’re going to help us. Is that clear?”
“C’mon Tank,” he heard Sam say. “Let him go,”
Tank released his grip and stepped back.
West shoved him in his chest. “You’re using me for something.”
“We’re at war. I’ve told you were all expendable. You have a valuable skill and we need you at the paper to help our people in the field. It’s that simple. I’ll tell you what,” Tank continued in a more measured tone, “Here is what I am going to do. Sam is going to fly back with you to New York. You can have the plane ride to reconsider your position. When you land tell her whether you’re in or out.”
“What happens if I say no?”
“You’ll just have to take your chances then won’t you,” Tank answered then stormed off.
“You all right?” Sam asked.
The Unraveling Page 17