After the Republic

by Frank L. Williams

  “This looks like the kind of group that would cause trouble,” the lead agent declared. “Like some kind of organized resistance.”

  “Resistance to what?” Bob fired back. “We are American citizens who just want to live our lives in freedom. We have done nothing to warrant this kind of gestapo-like inquisition.”

  “A voice mail retrieved from a Mr. Perry Edwards’ cell phone, left by someone identifying himself as ‘Joshua,’ indicated that this group was meeting here today,” the agent said. “The message included code words like ‘organizing,’ ‘getting ready’ and ‘secure location’ and encouraged Mr. Edwards to bring survival supplies, weapons and ammunition, which resulted in this gathering being flagged as a potential extremist militia organization looking to capitalize on the current crisis. Now, sir, I am telling you for the last time, put your gun down!”

  Bob stood his ground. “Sir, I am a Veteran of the United States Army, and I took the same oath you took. We have done nothing wrong, and the Constitution you and I both swore to uphold protects our rights to assemble and to keep and bear arms. Now please step aside and let us go on our way peacefully.”

  The agent was having none of it. “President Armando has directed us to help keep the peace, and we will do whatever it takes to uphold his order.”

  “How does threatening American citizens who are just trying to live their lives keep the peace?” Bob demanded, his face flushing red. “You are a disgrace to the American government and an abomination to the Constitution, you maggot!”

  “We are just following our orders.”

  “Is your loyalty to Nelson Armando or to the Constitution you swore an oath to uphold?”

  Joshua’s stomach twisted as the agent avoided the question. “Everyone needs to exit their vehicles slowly and bring any weapons you have forward and lay them on the ground, NOW!” He pointed at Bob. “That begins with you, old man.”

  Bob didn’t budge. “Stay in your vehicles! Do NOT exit your vehicles!”

  “I said get out of your vehicles, NOW! Or your friend here dies.” The lead agent pointed at Joshua, who was still in the second agent’s sights.

  “No!” Rebecca’s door shot open and she was out of the Explorer in an instant. The lead agent quickly drew his Glock .40 and pointed it at her. Two shots rang out. The world stood still. The only sound Joshua heard was his heart thumping like a bass drum. Oh my God! he thought. They’ve shot her!

  The cold specter of death overcame Joshua as a pair of knees hit the ground, followed by a body. Joshua’s heart raced as he heard the sound of someone desperately gasping for air. Regaining his senses, he realized it was not Rebecca. It was the agent whose rifle had been trained on Joshua. The lead agent also fell, landing on his back in a pool of blood. The twin emotions of horror and relief fought for control of Joshua’s consciousness.

  Kane emerged from behind the Explorer, his still-smoking .308 trained on the fallen agent who had pointed his gun at Rebecca. Bob’s Springfield 1911 .45 was trained on the lead agent. He had drawn and fired so quickly that no one had noticed until the man went down. Kane checked the second agent’s pulse, looked at Bob and shook his head, indicating there was none.

  Joshua silently stared at the fallen agents for a moment before running to Rebecca and embracing her. “Are you okay?” Shaking, she nodded but did not speak.

  Bob retrieved his still-burning cigar from his Yukon. He stood over the lead agent, who still was gasping for air. “You should have let us go peacefully.” Bob puffed on his cigar, spit in the man’s face and coldly fired the kill shot between his eyes.

  “We did what we had to do,” Bob said to Joshua as he holstered his pistol, which featured a silver barrel and wooden grip.

  “I… know,” Joshua stammered, still shaken.

  “Remain here,” Bob said. “We will clean this up. This will delay our departure. Martin, check the road for additional threats.”

  Joshua helped Rebecca into the Explorer. She was still trembling as he hugged her. “It’ll be okay.”

  Rebecca looked at Joshua through teary eyes. “I’m trained in self -defense. Always thought I’d know how to handle myself. But I’ve never actually seen anyone shot before…”

  “Me either.” He kissed her and stroked her cheek. “You stay here. I’m going to keep an eye on Bob and Kane.” She nodded and wiped away a tear.

  A stocky man with sandy blonde hair left his vehicle in the fifth travel group, dubbed Zeta Group, and approached Bob. “Do you need any help, sir?”

  Bob didn’t beat around the bush with pleasantries. “What are your name and background, son?”

  “Jack McGee. I was in the Marines and have worked as a firearms instructor for the past few years.”

  Bob appeared sold at “Marine” and immediately gave Jack marching orders. “Yes, McGee. Help me search these bodies and retrieve anything valuable, then cover the evidence of what happened here.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  Bob and Jack removed the agents’ identification badges, radios and weapons.

  Kane returned from the road. “No sign of additional threats, sir.”

  “Good work,” Bob said. “Martin, this is Jack McGee. Marine. He’ll be a big help. McGee, meet Kane Martin.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir!” Kane said, once again standing at attention as if greeting a high-ranking officer.

  “Martin and I will dispose of their vehicle,” Bob said. “McGee, stand guard here.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  Kane retrieved a gas can from the Silverado and drove off in the agents’ vehicle, followed by Bob. Jack stood guard near the Explorer with his AR-15.

  Joshua approached Perry’s Ram pickup, followed by Thomas, Drew and Jim. “Perry, it looks like you were right,” he said. “This is getting bad quickly.”

  “Man, I wasn’t sure what to think of that Bob guy at first, but it looks like it might be handy to have him around,” Thomas said.

  Jim nodded and Drew offered his opinion: “Maybe, but he still seems like a jerk to me.”

  Perry pointed. “Look!” A plume of thick, black smoke drifted toward the sky, coming from the direction in which Bob and Kane had taken the agents’ vehicle. An explosion was heard off in the distance as Bob’s Yukon returned to the driveway.

  “The vehicle has been disposed of,” Bob assured Joshua. “Martin, check the agents’ radios for GPS or other tracking devices.”

  As Kane disassembled the agents’ electronics Bob picked up his radio. “We will leave in five minutes and will adhere to our plan to travel in five small groups. The groups will leave four minutes apart. If you need to exit the vehicle for any reason prior to leaving do so now and then return to your vehicle. Be on high alert throughout the trip. No unnecessary stops. Stay in communication. Over and out.”

  Kane looked up from the radios. “No tracking devices, sir.”

  “Are you certain?” Bob inquired.

  “Yes, sir. I will reassemble the devices now.”

  “Good work, Martin.”

  Kane finished reassembling the devices just as everyone was re-entering their vehicles. Bob walked to Joshua’s vehicle window, followed by Kane and Jack, and motioned for everyone to be silent. He pulled out the lead agent’s identification badge and radio. “Agent Bedford reporting. We have secured the group’s weapons. They claim to be traveling to a farm in Jones County to escape the violence and unrest. They are on their way, traveling east. While they bear watching I do NOT deem them a threat at this time.”

  The response came in a strong New York accent. “Very good, Agent Bedford. Keep an eye on them.”

  “Will do. Are there any other agents in our area if we need backup?”

  “None in your area at this time. Do you need assistance?”

  “No, sir. We will be in touch if help is required. Agent Bedford out.”

  Bob waited a moment for a response; none was forthcoming. He puffed on his cigar. “Martin, put these radios in my vehicle and prepare
for immediate departure.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Joshua, let’s roll,” Bob said. Joshua nodded and Bob returned to his vehicle. Bob’s voice crackled over the radios: Alpha Group, prepare to depart on my lead.

  Sadness fell over Joshua as he and Rebecca left their beloved farm, the place where they had hoped and planned to enjoy the rest of their lives. Bob’s vehicle turned right onto the road in front of the house. Joshua followed, as did Perry. Rebecca watched through the window as their farm faded from sight. She turned and looked at Joshua, tears streaming down her face. “I just can’t believe it. I don’t think we’ll ever see this place again.” Joshua squeezed her hand tightly, trying to think of some way to console her, but the words did not come.

  Suddenly Bob’s voice came over the radio. Sigma Group, prepare to depart in 30 seconds. Exactly thirty seconds later his voice again came over the system. Sigma Group, depart now. Like clockwork, he instructed each group when it was time to leave.

  As the final group left the farm another voice came over the radio. Jack McGee here. Zeta Group departing now.

  Bob responded with a question. Is there any indication that you or any of us are being followed?

  None at this time, sir, but I will keep an eye out.

  Bob commended his new helper. Good work, McGee.

  The journey to a new home had begun.

  CHAPTER 5

  The convoy navigated down a series of winding back roads, avoiding main highways and population centers. The narrow, two-lane roads weaved between fields and farmhouses accented by century-old trees, past country stores and through a series of quaint small towns. In many cases a mile or more passed between homesteads. How did I wind up here, leading my friends across the state to an unfamiliar place? Joshua took a deep breath. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but there’s no turning back now.

  Some time later Bob broke a fairly long period of radio silence. Approaching overpass to cross Highway 220 and Interstate 73. Major highway. All groups check in after crossing and report any issues immediately.

  One by one the groups reported crossing the highway safely. They continued moving down back road after back road.

  Rebecca pointed at a towering column of thick, black smoke that came into view to the south. “What is that?”

  Joshua’s brow furrowed. “Don’t know. Looks like it’s coming from Charlotte. Haven’t heard about any attacks there, though.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “Not a good sign.”

  After some time, Bob’s voice again rang out over the airwaves. Interstate 85 ahead. All groups check in after crossing. A few moments later he issued a warning. Be aware, military presence on 85. Proceed with caution.

  Joshua gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands. As they crossed the overpass he saw a large convoy of military and other vehicles below headed toward Charlotte, many bearing the U.S. Department of Homeland Security logo. Awfully strong Homeland Security presence, he thought. I guess that’s understandable given what has happened. Once again, all groups checked in with no issues.

  Next the route stretched north, paralleling Interstate 77. They crossed I-77 near Mooresville and skirted around Lake Norman before again traveling south to avoid Interstate 40.

  “Smooth sailing so far,” Joshua said.

  Rebecca cocked an eyebrow. “Almost too smooth.”

  They continued winding down country road after country road. After some time a voice came over the radio: This is John Moore in Zeta Group. My van is running low on gas and I don’t want to push it too far. We need to stop at the next gas station.

  Bob responded, There is a station five miles ahead on the right. All groups stop there. Maintain the appearance of being unconnected to those in other groups. All groups fill up, take care of any other necessities and leave with your group. Check in once you have safely departed.

  When they reached the gas station Joshua and Rebecca both made a beeline for the bathrooms. He got in line to pre-pay for gas while she picked up a couple of soft drinks. When she joined him in the checkout line he was fixated on the newscast blaring from the small television on the wall.

  Federal officials continue their aggressive crackdown to combat the unrest in the wake of this week’s attacks. Here in North Carolina authorities are searching for two federal agents who went missing this morning in Chatham County, just outside of Raleigh.

  “Dude, you gonna pay?” the scraggly looking clerk called out to Joshua, who had been so focused on the newscast that he didn’t realize he was next in line.

  “Sorry. Got sucked into the news. Crazy stuff going on.”

  “It dang sure is,” the clerk said. “Them dern feds are going crazy this week. Ain’t hardly even America no more.”

  Joshua handed the clerk the drinks and snacks Rebecca had picked out.

  “That it?” The clerk started ringing the items up.

  Joshua nodded and Rebecca chimed in. “What about gas?”

  “Oh, yeah, I need to pre-pay for gas,” Joshua said.

  “We take cards at the pump.”

  “I know, but I’m paying cash today,” Joshua answered.

  “Worried about the feds tracking you or something?” the clerk asked with a tone that implied he was not joking.

  “Something like that.” Joshua forced a chuckle as he handed his cash to the clerk.

  Joshua and Rebecca returned to their SUV and Alpha Group left the station.

  ***

  The sun was dipping toward the horizon and the parking lot at the gas station was remarkably empty other than the members of Zeta Group. Jack’s son, Billy, was pumping gas and John was filling up his minivan. Inside the otherwise empty store Jack was carrying on a conversation with the clerk, who was still ranting about the federal government. Jack’s wife, Andrea, and John’s wife, Ruth, picked out snacks and drinks. The clerk was getting increasingly agitated as he ranted. After the three of them paid they walked toward the door.

  Jack froze as he heard John’s voice ring out across the parking lot. “Sir, we don’t want any trouble.” He clenched his fists when he spotted three men holding Billy and John at gunpoint near an older, full-sized brown van.

  “Neither do we,” the man who appeared to be the leader of the group answered. He was tall and skinny and his greasy hair awkwardly protruded from beneath his dingy yellow baseball cap. He waved his revolver wildly. “We just want this truck and trailer.”

  John started to speak but a tall, stocky carjacker with a shaved head and goatee punched him and sent his wire-frame glasses sliding across the parking lot. “Get back in your van right now, old man, or we’ll shoot you and the boy.”

  Jack silently motioned for Andrea and Ruth to stop. “I left my pistol in the truck,” he whispered. “You two stay out of sight.”

  John quickly made eye contact with Jack before putting both hands in the air. “Okay, I’ll do what you ask. Just don’t hurt us.” He cautiously got into his van and locked the doors.

  ***

  Joshua perked up as his radio flared to life. This is John Moore in Zeta Group. We’ve got a problem. Two guys with guns. They’ve got Billy and Jack.

  Rebecca looked at Joshua. “Oh, no! What do we do?”

  Before Joshua could respond Bob’s Yukon skidded to a near-stop and did an abrupt 180-degree turn on the road ahead of them. His voice boomed over the radio: Joshua and Perry, continue on your own. I will handle this.

  Joshua swallowed hard as he watched Bob speed away in his rear-view mirror. “Oh boy. Here we go.”

  ***

  Jack tried to negotiate with the men. “Guys, we don’t want any problems. If you just go on your way and let us go on our way that’ll be the end of it.”

  “Shut up!” The carjacker in the yellow hat puffed on the cigarette dangling between his equally yellow teeth. “Seeing that I’m the one with the gun I don’t see where you’re in a position to make demands. We’re taking your truck and trailer. The only question is whether
you survive this or not.” The short, partially bald man in a red flannel shirt who was holding Billy whispered something to the leader, who grinned and upped the anté. “And just because you’ve been a pain we’re taking your boy. We need some labor on the farm.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed as a shot of adrenalin spiked through him. “I don’t think so!”

  The clerk emerged from the store with his shotgun trained on the lead gunman. “Get off my property or I’ll put you down!”

  The short carjacker spun and fired his revolver in the clerk’s direction, missing him but shattering a store window. The clerk shouted an expletive, retreated into the store, ran past Andrea and Ruth and hid behind a display rack.

  The gunshot woke up Jack’s chocolate lab, Sarge, who had been sleeping in the back seat of his crew-cab Sierra. Sarge’s incessant, agitated barking echoed throughout the surrounding area.

  Jack stood his ground. “You’ll take my son over my dead body!” He took a step toward the gunmen.

  “Sounds like a good arrangement to me.” In one quick motion the carjacker with the yellow hat fired a shot that hit Jack in the mid-section, sending him to the ground.

  ***

  Andrea heard three gunshots outside the store. Sarge’s barking faded into a yelp, then went silent. She peeked around the display, clenching her teeth she when saw Sarge lying in a lifeless heap. A chill shot down her spine when she spotted the men trying to force Billy into their van. She bolted through the door, fixated on her only son. “No!”

  The lead carjacker spun and fired a shot. Andrea felt the air move as the bullet whizzed over her head. She zeroed in on Billy as sparks and glass splinters flew from the illuminated sign above the door. “Let him go!” The carjacker fired a second shot. Andrea felt searing pain tear through her right bicep. She fell to the pavement, then struggled to stand. “Let my son go!” The carjacker again pointed his pistol at Andrea and took a menacing step toward her.

  A shot rang out, and one of the windows on the carjackers’ van exploded into a million tiny pieces of glass. Then another, which pierced one of the van’s tires. The shots were followed by a booming voice. “Put your weapons down or I will end you. You cannot see me, but as you can tell I can see you. My next shot will take your life.” Andrea watched as the confused carjackers laid their weapons on the pavement. Several tense moments of eerie silence passed before the deep, authoritative voice called out again. “Now get on the ground, face-down, and put your hands behind your heads.” The carjackers complied with the unseen gunman’s demands. After another few moments of silence the voice rang out once more, saying “Good. Now remain in that position. If you move, it will be the last movement you ever make. Do you understand me?”