299 Days: The 43 Colonels

by Glen Tate

  299 Days X: The 43 Colonels

  by

  Glen Tate

  Book Ten in the ten book 299 Days series.

  Dystopian Fiction & Survival Nonfiction

  www.PrepperPress.com

  299 Days X: The 43 Colonels

  Copyright © 2014 by Glen Tate

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Prepper Press Trade Paperback Edition: October 2014

  Prepper Press is a division of Kennebec Publishing, LLC

  - To the many real people who are a colonel described in this book. You know who you are.

  This ten-book series follows Grant Matson and others as they navigate through a partial collapse of society. Set in Washington State, this series depicts the conflicting worlds of preppers, those who don't understand them, and those who fear and resent them.

  The 43 Colonels is the tenth book in the 299 Days series.

  In this final book of the 299 Days series, The 43 Colonels celebrates the many "ordinary" men and women who did extraordinary things during and after the Collapse. Set in the chambers of the New Washington Legislature during a joint session of the House and Senate, Governor Ben Trenton honors Colonel Grant Matson and 42 other individuals who helped start the Restoration. From a personal trainer who became a spy disguised as a water boy, to a homeschooling mom who protected children's minds from Loyalist propaganda, to a young computer hacker who used his skills to get classified information to Oath Keepers, and a Special Forces operative who conducted some amazing missions, the stories of these modern-day Patriots, both heart-wrenching and inspirational, demonstrate how anyone can help in a revolution.

  Books from the 299 Days series published to date:

  Book One – 299 Days: The Preparation

  Book Two – 299 Days: The Collapse

  Book Three – 299 Days: The Community

  Book Four – 299 Days: The Stronghold

  Book Five – 299 Days: The Visitors

  Book Six – 299 Days: The 17th Irregulars

  Book Seven – 299 Days: The Change of Seasons

  Book Eight – 299 Days: The War

  Book Nine – 299 Days: The Restoration

  Book Ten – 299 Days: The 43 Colonels

  For more about this series, free bonus chapters, and to be notified about future releases, please visit www.299days.com.

  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  Chapter 335

  Chapter 336

  Chapter 337

  Chapter 338

  Chapter 339

  Chapter 340

  Chapter 341

  Chapter 342

  Chapter 343

  Chapter 344

  Chapter 345

  Chapter 346

  Chapter 347

  Chapter 348

  Chapter 349

  Chapter 350

  Chapter 351

  Chapter 352

  Chapter 353

  Chapter 354

  Chapter 355

  Chapter 356

  Chapter 357

  Chapter 358

  Chapter 359

  Chapter 360

  Chapter 361

  Chapter 362

  Chapter 363

  Chapter 364

  Chapter 365

  Chapter 366

  Chapter 367

  Chapter 368

  Chapter 369

  Chapter 370

  Chapter 371

  Chapter 372

  Chapter 373

  Chapter 374

  Chapter 375

  Chapter 376

  Chapter 377

  About the Author

  Glen Tate has a front row seat to the corruption in government and writes the 299 Days series from his first-hand observations of why a collapse is coming and predictions on how it will unfold. Much like the main character in the series, Grant Matson, the author grew up in a rural and remote part of Washington State. He is now a forty-something resident of Olympia, Washington, and is a very active prepper. “Glen” keeps his real identity a secret so he won’t lose his job because, in his line of work, being a prepper and questioning the motives of the government is not appreciated.

  Chapter 335

  Col. Grant Matson

  (February 25, one year post-Collapse)

  Grant Matson was light-headed. It felt like the room was spinning. He could hear sounds, but couldn’t understand what was happening. He suddenly felt cold, like his blood pressure had dropped. He braced himself against the desk that sat before him. After a few seconds and some deep breathing, the spinning stopped and sounds returned to normal. Coming out of the fog, he could now clearly comprehend what was happening. He was in the chambers of the House of Representatives. It was the same chamber that existed before the war, but now it was the New Washington State House of Representatives. New Washington was the new state-–an independent republic, actually-–that encompassed all of what was pre-war Washington State, except for the Seattle area.

  Grant was there to accept his honorary commission as a Colonel during a joint session of the House and Senate, which also included the Governor and new state Supreme Court. It was like a State of the State address. The new Legislature had granted forty-three Colonelships to men and women who had done extraordinary things to win the war and start the Restoration.

  Grant looked up to the rostrum and saw that his old friend, Ben Trenton, was motioning for him to stand and be recognized.

  “Grant Matson!” he heard Ben, now Governor Ben Trenton, say to thunderous applause. The clapping and cheering was so loud that Grant could feel it, like a slow, rumbling concussion grenade that kept going. Grant’s head was still spinning and he didn’t think he could stand up because he was simultaneously awestruck, nervous and joyous.

  You can do this. You’ve done much harder things. Go up there and do what I put you here to do. An instant calm came over him as he heard the outside thought. He effortlessly rose from his seat, started to wave enthusiastically to all the cheering people, and then realized he had a genuine, giant, beaming smile from ear to ear. He was in his element.

  He was immediately surrounded by dozens of people wanting to shake his hand, high-five him, or hug him. He was mobbed, and loving it. There was no way to contain the joy he felt.

  He was focusing on the faces of the people surrounding him and knew them all. They were Patriots who had freed the state. Some he had known a long time, since before the war. Others he had met only recently. Some were new House members, others were senators. Some were judges, cabinet members, and military officers. They were the men and women who would begin the long process of rebuilding the state, or the Restoration, as the Patriots called it. Grant had the unmistakable and deep feeling—knowledge, really—that these truly remarkable people had been chosen by a higher power to be right there, right then, to put the state back together and lay the foundation for generations of freedom. He was among the second set of Founding Fathers. Not only among them, but he was one of them. His head started to spin again.

  Then he realized something that caused the spinning to stop: he belonged here. He was one of the New Founders, as they were being called. He was humble—that’s probably why he was one of the — chosen—but he needed to stop thinking about how amazing this moment was and get down to the job at hand. He needed to inspire. He knew that the words he would speak in the next few minutes would be historic and replayed for generations. He needed to nail it.

  Grant felt guilty being the center of attention for so long as the Governor was standing there, patiently waiting for the crowd around Grant to die down before the resuming his speech. He looked up at Ben and mouthed, “Sorry, man.”

  Ben
looked at Grant and said enthusiastically into the microphone, “No hurry. You deserve it, bro.” The Governor’s use of a casual term like “bro” instantly conveyed how close he and Grant were and how much he appreciated what Grant had done. This sent the crowd into another wave of loud applause and even some hollering.

  After a few more minutes of being mobbed, the crowds began to die down. The Governor started to speak again. “Lt. Matson—Col. Matson, now—please remain standing while I read a resolution in your honor.” The crowd quieted down. Everyone wanted to hear this.

  Ben looked at the sheet of paper in front of him and choked up. He paused, held up the sheet of paper and said, “This describes what Lt. Matson did.” He paused and then slowly said, “I’m not going to read it.”

  The Legislature went silent. Ben set the paper down and said, “I know exactly what Grant did, and what he’s going to continue to do. I don’t need to read anything.” He started to speak off the cuff.

  “Grant saw this coming before I did,” Ben said directly to the packed House chamber. “Yes, a politician is admitting he didn’t know something.” The audience chuckled.

  “I remember years ago—years ago—when Grant told several of us what was coming. It seemed, well, crazy. We all knew things were messed up, but Grant was talking about a collapse. We all listened politely,” he said as he comically rolled his eyes, “but it was hard to really believe that the United States would cease to exist.” Ben paused. “It was impossible to imagine what life would be like without a United States, what the riots would be like, the oppression, the war, and especially what the Restoration would look like. Impossible.”

  Ben pointed straight at Grant and softly said, “Except for you, my friend.” Grant swelled with pride. He could feel how he had been used by a higher power to set up the very scene he was witnessing: the birth of a free state.

  “You warned us,” Ben said, pointing at Tom Foster, his Chief of Staff, and Brian Jenkins, his Director of Legislative Affairs, to signal that all three had been warned. “Your warnings made us think a collapse was possible which made it easier to believe it was happening when it started to unfold. This meant we were able to react and get out to the Prosser Farm.” Ben pointed up in the gallery to Jeff and Molly Prosser and gave them a thumbs-up. The Prossers were nominated for a colonelship for hiding the Trentons, Fosters, and Jenkins during the war, but declined it. They thought they hadn’t done enough to deserve the honor.

  “Then you and the magnificent Team,” Ben said, pointing to the Team where they stood on the wings of the House floor. Applause started again. The Team humbly walked out to the floor of the House so they could be seen. They were wearing suits, a sight Grant had never seen before. Wes' absence was keenly felt.

  “You guys,” Ben continued after the applause died down, “‘liberated’ Capitol City Guns of its contents and got them to another hero, Master Sergeant Ted Malloy,” Ben said, pointing to the gallery where a clean-shaven Special Forces Ted stood in his dress uniform, another sight Grant had never seen. Ted pointed at Grant down on the House floor and gave him a thumbs-up to signify his thanks to him. Ted, too, had been offered a colonelship but had declined.

  “You stored the weapons at your cabin, which constituted several hundred felony counts under the old law,” Ben said with a smile, “and then you built up Pierce Point into a model of what a Patriot community looks like.”

  “Grant,” Ben said looking directly at him, “I don’t think you appreciate how important the model of Pierce Point was to our side. Tales of how a Patriot community was working—a library, for goodness sakes—when it was surround by gangs and tyranny and hunger. That example spread throughout New Washington.” Several members of the audience were nodding; they had heard the Pierce Point example themselves in the months leading up to the brief war.

  “You proved it could be done,” Ben continued. He pointed to the audience and said, “We all remember what it was like at the beginning of the Collapse, right?” More nodding. “We were embarking on something entirely new: beating the mightiest force on the planet, the former United States federal government.” The audience was spellbound because they had all felt exactly what Ben was describing. He paused, allowing the audience to continue feeling for themselves exactly what he was saying.

  “But you’re not about to be awarded a colonelship for giving us that vitally needed example of the ‘Patriot way’ out at Pierce Point,” Ben said. “You were the commanding officer of the 17th Irregulars.” The audience broke into applause again. Ben, knowing that Grant would not take sole credit for the success of the 17th, pointed to Special Forces Ted in the gallery and said, “You had help, of course.” Grant also pointed up at Ted and gestured an appreciative nod. Then Grant pointed up at the sky. More applause.

  Ben turned to the audience and said, “I don’t need to tell you what role the irregular units played in the war.” Everyone in the legislative chamber knew exactly how important these units were. They were the ones who rose up all over the state and created dozens of simultaneous uprisings for the Limas to attempt to put down. The rag-tag irregulars stormed police stations, courthouses, TV and radio stations, small airports, and gas stations. They liberated political prisoners. They secured water treatment plants and electrical facilities. They attacked government food storage facilities and got the food out to the people.

  “These ‘amateurs,’” Ben continued, referring to a comment by Lima governor, Rick Menlow, about the irregular units, “beat the pants off the so-called 'professionals' the other side put up against us.” Another round of applause.

  “All the irregular units were magnificent,” Ben said. He was, after all, a politician who didn’t want to leave anyone out. “But, the 17th did some extraordinary things.”

  He pointed to Grant again and said with a huge smile, “C’mon, Grant, admit it. Hiding out a few miles from the state capitol got you guys a pretty juicy mission.” The crowd laughed. Ben pointed up at the sky and softly said, “What a coincidence.”

  “You guys got through Frederickson,” Ben said as he looked in the gallery. He saw John Bennington, motioned for him to stand, and said, “Once again, with some help.” Bennington stood up. He, too, had turned down a colonelship. The audience applauded until John sat down.

  “The road into Olympia was dangerous,” Ben continued. He became very serious. “We lost two brave Patriots on that road, a soldier who would only go by ‘Nineteen Delta’ and Corporal DeShante Anderson. Another, Jake Herman, was severely injured.” Ben had an amazing ability to remember names (he was a politician, after all) and was operating completely off-script. He had talked to Grant once about the battles fought by the 17th and remembered the names of the scouts who were killed and injured along the way.

  “Getting to Olympia was only part of the danger,” Ben continued. “Once you got here, you were not exactly welcomed by the remaining Loyalists. You fought, and some of you died, including a valued member of the Team, Wes Marlin.” The audience was silent. Some bowed their heads. Grant noticed Scotty, off in the wings of the House floor, covering his face to hide the tears.

  “That’s the sad part of the story of the 17th,” Ben said, again going completely off-script. “Here’s the happy part: you fed thousands. You killed dozens of gang members and FCorps so the people left in this town could be safe for a change.” Applause started; Ben talked louder to be heard over the clapping. He continued, “You took hundreds of Lima prisoners and sorted out which ones were just following orders and which ones needed to be tried for crimes. You helped get the electricity going again at the Capitol after the Limas blew the substation. Your men got the water back up and running. You guarded the field hospital after the suicide bombers tried to take it out.” Ben let the applause build and then die down.

  “What’s the common denominator in all of that?” Ben asked the audience. He paused and said, “You were helping people.” He let that sink in and said, “That’s the common denominator. You were fixi
ng the mess that the so-called ‘Legitimate Authorities’ had made. You were capturing, guarding, feeding, bandaging, and rebuilding.”

  Once again, the audience erupted in applause. “This never gets old,” Grant thought to himself with a smile.

  “But,” Ben said with a pause for dramatic effect, “that’s not why you’re being awarded a colonelship.” He paused to lighten the mood, shrugged, and said, “Thanks for all that other stuff, though.” The audience laughed. It was apparent that Ben and Grant were close friends and the Governor was entitled to joke around with this friend even though this was a serious ceremony.

  “Lt. Grant Wallace Matson,” Ben said, “you are being awarded a colonelship for forming, chairing, and brilliantly running the Reconciliation Commission.” More applause, but lighter because some people in the audience were not full supporters of the Commission. The hardliner faction in the Legislature wanted retribution and thought Ben and Grant’s approach of pardons and reconciliation was too “soft.”

  “In one word, here is what the Reconciliation Commission is: prevention,” Ben said, “Prevention of more bloodshed, more war, more starving, and more kids dying of treatable medical conditions. We’ve had enough of that.”

  “Reconciliation isn’t always popular,” Ben said, in an obvious reference to the hardliners. “Reconciliation is necessary.”

  “What good is ‘winning’ this war, only to begin generations of killing and suffering?” Ben asked. “The purpose of the war, the whole purpose of winning it, was to stop the killing and suffering, not keep it going and going.”

  Grant, who had known Ben for years, could feel that his heartfelt emotions were coming through. It wasn’t a political speech. This was a man risking his life and political future to do the right thing. If the hardliners eventually took over, Ben’s neck would be on the chopping block.