The Conspiracy of American Democracy - A Father's Revenge

Home > Other > The Conspiracy of American Democracy - A Father's Revenge > Page 3
The Conspiracy of American Democracy - A Father's Revenge Page 3

by Robert Strickland


  Even in these turbulent times, with the implosion of our lives, our country, and our world; certain humanitarian guidelines were expected to be followed in our war. If we did not follow those guidelines, how could we expect our adversaries to follow them?

  “That is not the man that I married, the man that I love, the father of my children!” Hannah exclaimed. “What the hell was that?” she asked as she followed me into our tent.

  Turning to face her, “I did what I had to do!” I yelled. Lily and Abby looked in, puzzled by the exchange.

  “At what cost Paul, at what cost? How do we ever expect the socialist soldiers to treat us like humans when they capture us if we do not do the same for them?”

  “Is that how they treated you Hannah? Huh? Is that how they treated the three of you?” I asked as I swept my arm across open air toward all three of them. “Not one of you has told me anything about how you were treated. Based on how thin and frail you look, I am assuming you weren’t fed well. What the hell am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to sit here wondering what happened? Argghh, I can’t stand it!” I exclaimed as I ran my hands through my hair and turned away. “You have no idea what it is like to sit here wondering what happened to my wife and daughters when they were prisoners. It’s only been two days since I found you and already I am going crazy with wonderment. Do I ask what happened? Can I live with the response? Do I not ask and always wonder and drive myself crazy? At least now I know. Now I know that the people that held you have travelled to Vermont. Now I know that I have the man responsible for my daughter’s abduction in my custody. Now I know that I am going to Vermont also. Now I know that revenge will be mine. And Hannah, like it or not, I will have my revenge for what they did to my family. If I have my way, those sons of bitches will all burn in hell.”

  Chapter 3

  Pop’s Funeral

  Return to Table of Contents

  “Jesus said to her, I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”

  —John 11:25-26

  “General, they’re ready” Adam solemnly stated.

  Funerals! I have always hated funerals. But it is an outward symbol of respecting and celebrating the life of the dear departed. And, in respects to Pop, it was just plain necessary.

  I walked out of the tent and saw the large gathering of soldiers standing before me. They all had their heads bowed and they were surrounding a plain, freshly made pine wood box. I don’t know how they got the wood so quickly, or how they assembled that casket as fast as they did. Yet, here it was, and here we were, ready to lay Pop to rest.

  Pop had always told me that whenever he died, however he died, he wanted to be laid to rest under the biggest oak tree that could be found. Then he would always say something about squirrels traipsing over the ground he rested under, while they ate and scurried about and how it intrigued him. I don’t know, he was a simple crazy little old man, but I loved him.

  When we set up this camp, just two days ago after our victory in New York, I set out and purposely looked for a big fat oak tree. And man, did I find one. Stretching over eighty feet high, the branches were long and flowing, widening out to probably sixty feet in width. Acorns were piled up under the tree and would probably equal more than five bushels if they were gathered up. Yes, this was the tree that Pop would be buried under. And I am certain that he would be more than satisfied with the selection. The fact that I had picked it out would be an added bonus.

  As I walked toward the handmade casket, the soldiers slowly parted and fell in behind me like a wave enveloping a surfer. They wrapped me into their fold and I could feel the warmth and admiration of the group for the man that they knew as Pop. He had served for years with these soldiers, and some of that time I also served. But only upon his death did they discover who I really was. To them, Pop was a mentor, an admired old man who fought alongside them, a man to go to for advice on just about anything. But to me, he was just plain old Dad. I wiped a tear from my left eye as I stopped and looked out into the large crowd of soldiers. Not worrying about whether they could hear me, I began speaking.

  “There are two absolutes in life. We will all live, and we will all die. What makes our lives meaningful is everything that lies in between our birth and our death. If what makes a life truly meaningful is the number of other lives that are touched, and differences made in those lives, then Pop lived one of the most meaningful lives that has ever been lived. All of Pop’s life he spent serving others. Forgoing his own pursuit of happiness, he raised his brothers and sisters after his parents died. Forgoing his own education, he insured that they received theirs. Once married, he raised a family of his own, in which I was honored to be a part.”

  Someone in the back of the large group replied, “Amen.”

  I continued, “Pop was more than a soldier, he was more than a brother, he was much more than a father. Pop was our friend. Someone we could go to in a time of need. He always knew what we needed. Whether it was a swift kick in the pants, or a slap on the back, Pop knew what we needed. Whether it was a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to listen to us, Pop knew what we needed. When he died on our field of battle the other day, fighting for a cause that he believed in with all of his heart, he left behind a human life worthy of all of us to emulate. We would all be better men if we lived as Pop lived.” I paused briefly as my voice began to tremble. Why was this so hard? I thought to myself.

  Regaining my composure, I continued with a trembling voice. “And now here we are, preparing to say goodbye to our dear old friend. Before we conclude, I will read Pop’s favorite bible passage, one he recited to me many times as I grew up in North Carolina.” I opened up an old King James Version Bible, flipped over to the Psalms and began to read.

  1) The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

  2) He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside still waters.

  3) He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. He restoreth my soul:

  4) Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil: for thou art with me:Thy rod and thy staff the comfort me.

  5) Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

  6) Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

  As I closed the Bible, I bowed my head and began to pray. Our Heavenly Father we return to you today one of your most humble of servants, James Edward ‘Pop’ Hornady. We pray that you receive him into your open and loving arms and congratulate him for a job well done by your faithful and humble servant. We know now that Pop has claimed his treasures with You in heaven on this day. We thank You for loving us and keeping us safe through all of our battles. We ask that you bless all of us as you blessed Pop in his life. We pray these things in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.”

  As I raised my head tears ran down my cheeks as I heard countless “Amens” from the crowd of soldiers. I started walking back toward my tent as Hannah, Lily, and Abby joined me and we walked arm in arm as a group away from the casket.

  Adam walked up to me and we all stopped. I faced Adam and as our eyes met I said, “Be sure they get him buried before nightfall. And be sure they clean up really well before going to bed. We don’t need any unwanted sickness. We march at first light.”

  Adam looked at Hannah, then Abby, then Lily and replied, “Yes sir, General.”

  Chapter 4

  The Plan

  Return to Table of Contents

  “Love has its place, as does hate. Peace has its place, as does war. Mercy has its place, as do cruelty and revenge.”

  — Meir Kahane

  Sickness! How did we get here to a time when disease and sickness rules the day? It started with the Environmental Protection Agency. For all of the positives that the EPA was suppo
sed to give us, it sure did hurt us terribly.

  The United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA or sometimes USEPA) was an agency of the United States federal government which was created for the purpose of protecting human health and the environment by writing and enforcing regulations based on laws passed by Congress. The EPA was proposed by President Richard Nixon and began operation on December 2, 1970, after Nixon signed an executive order. The order establishing the EPA was ratified by committee hearings in the House and Senate.4

  The EPA had the responsibility of maintaining and enforcing national standards under a variety of environmental laws, in consultation with state, tribal, and local governments. It delegated some permitting, monitoring, and enforcement responsibility to individual states and to federally recognized tribes. EPA enforcement powers included fines, sanctions, and other more extreme measures. The agency also worked with industries and all levels of government in a wide variety of voluntary pollution prevention programs and energy conservation efforts.5

  With the government unable to pay the 45,493 full time employees, the EPA closed shop in 2020. But before they closed, they had made an impact on virtually every aspect of American life. When the EPA went under, many aspects of American life changed dramatically. Clean air and clean water restrictions were hit the hardest at first as state governments tried to stay afloat without federal government oversight. In their efforts to cope, they started cutting corners on costs, inspections and prosecutions. With the few private industries that were left having no fear of reprisal from the government, they too; began to cut corners. The end result was dirty air, dirty water and dirty people. Because of that, it wasn’t long until citizens were getting sick at an alarming rate.

  The Center for Disease Control (CDC) spent countless hours trying to find ways to treat the diseases that became rampant across the country. After clean air and clean water, hazardous waste was next. The CDC tried to stay on top of things, but without the strong arm of the EPA present to levy fines and initiate prosecutions; it was impossible. By the time late 2021 arrived, a virtual plague had hit the shores of the United Socialist States of America. To this day, we all live with disease and infection similar to what third world countries used to have.

  “General! Wake up, wake up! He’s gone,” came the demand from the soldier. I quickly shook my head side to side trying to wake myself up. My God, how long have I been asleep? Seems like minutes. “What? Who is gone?” I asked. “Sir, The Bear!” He has escaped!” was the soldiers reply.

  I was wide awake now and running toward the tent where Alexei Vadim had been held prisoner. As I approached the tent where he had been imprisoned, I realized that my greatest fear had been realized. Not only had The Bear escaped, but he had also killed twelve of my men. And now he was surely going to warn the Socialist army of our approach to Vermont.

  “Damn it to hell!” I exclaimed as I ran into the tent and threw the steel chair, he once was confined to, out of the open tent flap. Turning around, I saw Adam behind me. Our eyes met, and I could tell he was just as angry as I was. No words needed to be said. I just shook my head and took the long walk back to my tent with my head hung low. Looking back over my shoulder I yelled, “Bury the dead!”

  “General, do we give chase?” the soldier asked.

  “So he can kill more men? Hell no, we don’t give chase to him. We’ve got to be smarter than that. It’s dark and he ran off into the woods. Chasing after him now would be inviting more slaughter of our men,” I exclaimed as I kept walking.

  I stayed up the rest of the night preparing for our march at first light. Adam came into the tent and we mapped out our planned route. “Best I can figure, it’s about three hundred miles to the Vermont state line from here. If our average walking speed is two and a half miles an hour and we go for, say eight hours a day, we can be there in fifteen days.” Adam stated.

  General Thomas walked into the tent as we were discussing our plan. “Paul, what the hell happened with The Bear?” he asked as he ran his fingers through his hair in an obvious effort to wake up.

  Looking up, Adam stated, “The guard went in to feed him and apparently Alexei overpowered him, and then he came out of the tent on a rampage. He killed twelve of our soldiers before he scurried off into the woods. There’s no telling how long he had been gone before we discovered the bodies.”

  General Thomas stood there with a pipe hanging out of his mouth, looking completely bewildered. General Grant Thomas was an extremely large man. He could even be called a man’s man. I had always concluded he was promoted to his position just out of sheer intimidation of everyone else. But he could fight too. General Thomas stood six-foot-six inches and weighed at least three hundred pounds. And that was three hundred pounds of pure muscle. The man was as solid as a Mack truck. With a running start you could not knock him over. General Thomas was drafted by the Dallas Cowboys back in the day to play linebacker. In training camp he put three fellow teammates in the hospital with his spectacular hits. He had jet black hair that had streaks of gray flowing through it. He wore wire-rimmed glasses that resembled the bottom of a coke bottle. You could always hear General Thomas coming. He wore a size 16, triple-E shoe that encompassed his massive feet. We had a fight once years ago when he punched me in the face so hard I could swear I saw the angels in heaven circling for my soul. He always wore a large Masonic ring on his right hand. There was many a soldier walking around with a permanent imprint of that ring on their jaw.

  General Thomas pulled up a chair and sat with Adam and me as we discussed our plan. “What’s this here?” Grant said pointing at a pencil mark on an old map.

  “That is where The Bear told me the troops that originally abducted Hannah and the girls are stationed right now” I said.

  “But we have no way of knowing if his information is correct, or if they are still there” Adam added.

  “That’s over three hundred miles” General Thomas replied. “Paul, have you given any thought to the fact that this is a setup to get you to Vermont?”

  “So Alexei Vadim purposely gets captured, let’s me put his eye out with a hot knife, to get me to go to Vermont?” I asked incredulously.

  “Think about it Paul, they didn’t know you’d go crazy with the eye bit, but is there any way any militia, even ours, can hold a man like Alexei for more than a few days?” Grant asked.

  As I sat there thinking of the scenario that Grant had just presented to me Adam spoke up. “It does kind of make sense. I mean, they held Lily and Abby for almost three years while you were trying to just exist in your self-inflicted funk. Lily and Abby said they were using them to try to lure you out. Once they captured Hannah, when they overran the Virginia camp, they knew you were alive and at that point they absolutely knew that you were coming for them. You and I were on a mission and they knew we were coming. What better way to set you up than to give Hannah, Lily and Abby back to you. Then they give you The Bear and he tells you where they are and you walk right into a trap with all of your men. It’s one thing to kill a man alone; it’s an altogether different story to kill him with his men in a battle. You kill the great man alone; you kill a great man alone. You kill him in a battle; you kill the militia’s spirit with him.”

  I sat there stroking my sad excuse of a beard remembering Tennessee, while Grant smoked his pipe. “They could have killed me in Tennessee but they didn’t,” I said to myself. Adam sat silently looking at the old map. After a few minutes, I spoke up. “Well, however this has happened, they are getting what they want. We’ve got to go to Vermont. The tide of the war can turn completely in our favor there.”

  “Or, out of our favor,” Adam replied.

  “There is another way here Paul,” General Thomas stated.

  “I’m listening,” I said.

  General Thomas started, “The Alabama militia is up here in New York. Unless they have moved, their camp is maybe a day and a half walk southwest of here. They are eleven hundred men strong. We could go meet wit
h them, join forces, and then go to Vermont. We may even pick up another militia before we get there. It only adds a day and a half to our trek. Think about it Paul, they will expect just over two hundred men and we will show up with thirteen hundred. We will surprise the absolute hell out of them.”

  Adam interjected, “General Thomas is right Sir, and you know that Alexei will report that we have just over two hundred soldiers left. Wouldn’t they be surprised when thirteen hundred show up? I’m getting all excited just thinking about the possibility.”

  Again, I sat stroking my beard. Grant still smoked his pipe and Adam began drumming his fingers on the table in a nervous manner. After a few minutes I spoke up, “Alright, let’s do it. General Thomas, you get us to the Alabama camp. But, we need to send a couple of scout teams ahead to Vermont so that we can have intel once we arrive.”

 

‹ Prev