PROJECT BlueBolt - AMERICAN GULAGS: BOOK I - AMERICAN GULAGS

by Marshall Huffman

  ****

  The traffic in Washington on Monday is always a zoo. Add rain to it and you have stop and go traffic for miles. A few fender benders only added to the general confusion. Even the police cars and ambulances could hardly get around.

  “Is the diversion ready?”

  “It’s ready. It will go off in ten minutes.”

  “Okay, we give the police and ambulances a twenty minute start before we attack.”

  “I know the plan.”

  “Just going over it one more time,” the leader said.

  Five miles away from where the men sat, at the the Walter E. Washington Convention Center a huge fireball erupted just as the National Restaurant Show was opening its doors. Fire and smoke poured out of the building. People lay dying and wounded in the streets and on the steps. People staggered out of the building, burned and injured, many collapsing as soon as they cleared the doors.

  Within minutes secondary explosions rocked the area as propane tanks that were brought in for cooking equipment erupted causing even more damage and carnage. It looked like a war zone as people lay sprawled and cars burned. Calls flooded 911 but police were having a difficult time even getting through the traffic.

  People tried to get out of the way but it was just impossible in some cases. Finally almost twenty minutes later, the first ambulance arrived on the scene and then slowly police and other emergency vehicles arrived. The fire department was the last to arrive. Traffic was making it impossible for the large trucks to get through. Paramedics immediately went into action but by the time they had arrived many had succumbed to their injuries.

  “It’s time,” the leader said, opening the back door of the van.

  He was dressed in camo gear with a face mask on. When he stepped out the back, the other man opened the side door. A 30 Cal. mini-gun that could shoot 3000 rounds per minute was mounted on a pedestal.

  The leader picked up an RPG shoulder held rocket launcher and casually aimed at the Jefferson Memorial. He sighted in and pulled the trigger. The rocket left the tube and streaked towards the monument. It exploded sending marble like shrapnel, slicing into visitors. As soon as he fired he stepped back in the van and closed the door.

  The second man immediately opened fire with the mini-gun shooting at anyone still standing or moving. In less than one minute they had destroyed the monument and killed or injured over seventy-five people. The driver put the van in gear as the shooter closed the side door and they slowly drove off as if nothing had ever happened.

  ****

  CVTV – SPECIAL REPORT

  “The President of the United States,” the announcer said.

  “Good evening my fellow Americans. Another terrorist attack has taken place in our nation’s capital at 9:28 a.m. I am here tonight to tell you that I am fed up with what is going on. I have talked for some time about putting real teeth in our fight against terrorism both domestic and international.

  We have established that today’s attack was perpetrated by domestic terrorists. The Nightriders are claiming responsibility for the crowdedly attack that took place in two different locations. They went so far as to say that this was just the beginning. Well I have news for them. We are not going to stand by and let this happen.

  Terrorism from abroad is bad enough but homegrown terrorism is beyond deplorable. For weeks I have pressed Congress to authorize a second department of ISS. I have been disappointed by their response and now we have two hundred and twelve Americans dead and over four hundred injured. They talk while citizens of this country are dying.

  When I initiated the ISS they said I was circumventing Congress. There is a reason for that. We need action not talk. I am sure this will anger Congress and possibly they will try to impeach me but I cannot in good conscience stand by and watch the slaughter of innocent Americans while they hold everything up in committees and fight about who gets what out of it.

  If they think that spending time on impeaching me is more important than protecting the very people that sent them here in the first place, then all I can say is they need to get their priorities straight.

  Effective immediately, I have authorized a special terrorist unit. This force is responsible for tracking down and bringing to justice domestic terrorists. It is called Battalion 101 and will become a department of ISS headed by Mr. Tony Spears. Mr. Spears will hold a press conference tomorrow at the White House to explain the details of Battalion 101 and their responsibilities.

  Ladies and Gentlemen, this is going to stop. If it upsets Congress, that is the risk I am willing to take. All I can say is bring on the impeachment proceedings and let’s see how the American people respond.

  Thank you, good night, and God bless you.”

  ****

  “How many of the officers have you tracked down?”

  “Thirty-three so far. We have leads on a few others,” Taylor told her.

  “That still leaves far too many out there running around free.”

  “Several took off for parts unknown but we will run them down eventually.”

  “I want you to turn Battalion 101 on them. Track them down and arrest them and send them to one of the prisons,” she told him.

  “Do you really believe they would try to rise up against us? I mean, how? They have nothing that can stand up against our military and the ISS.”

  “You are missing the point. I will not have anyone running around free who is not under our control. When they resigned they were basically thumbing their nose at the administration and no one will get away with that.”

  “I understand. We will get them. We took care of the so called Nightriders when they came for their money. I can’t believe they were that stupid to believe they were actually going to walk away with twenty million dollars. I guess no one ever said terrorists were smart,” Tony told her.

  “I assume they will never be found.”

  “You can be assured of that.”

  “Very good,” Clemons replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  General Waggoner had maintained a low profile while living at his cabin near Wildhorse Butte in Montana. The only access was by a hard packed dirt road. The cabin had a porch on three sides and the back butted up against a steep rise. It was wild, rugged country.

  He had heard that many of those who had refused to sign the personal oath to the President had been arrested and detained. Where, no one seemed to know. They were simply taken off by the ISS and never heard from again. It reminded him of how the KGB used to operate during the Cold War.

  One of the first things he did after bringing in provisions was to place his weapons within easy reach from anyplace in the cabin along with ammunition. His main contact was General Lamb who had actually gone ahead and signed the oath to the President. He had decided he could accomplish more by being in the loop rather than resigning and going to ground like many others had.

  Thomas Waggoner knew as soon as the so called domestic terrorist group was turned loose they would come looking for him and the others who had refused to take the oath. He needed to find a way to contact the others and see if together they could come up with a plan at least hold them off.

  He decided that contacting Lamb would be worth the risk. They had worked out a system to get quick messages to each other. There was still a considerable amount of risk involved but in this case Thomas felt that it was worth it.

  ****

  “Sir, I was to remind you of getting the list of invitees to your party in two weeks. I think it is imperative that we give them enough notice.”

  “I have part of it. I guess I could finish it now.”

  “I think that would be a good idea,” his aide said.

  “Alright. Sit down and I’ll see if I can finish this. What do you think about inviting General Uber?”

  “Bad idea sir. Uber is on the outs with the administration, I think it would look bad. Anyway, I’m not sure he even signed the oath like he was supposed to.”

  “Really? That’
s the first I’ve heard of that,” General Lamb replied.

  “I could be wrong and I can check but I still think it’s a bad idea.”

  “Admiral Pollard?”

  “Good. He would be an excellent choice. And his wife of course,”

  “Of course. Colonel Rammage?”

  “Another good one.”

  “What about General Billings?”

  “No way. He didn’t sign either.”

  “You’re kidding. He was always so gung-ho. That is a big shock.”

  “You think that is a shock, did you hear that Admirals Bix and Worth resigned rather than sign?”

  “Lincoln Bix and Al Worth? Geez, I thought these guys were dedicated professionals.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “I guess I’m behind the times. So, how many more names?”

  “Just a couple more and I think it would be good to add Taylor Spears, head of the ISS.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I do.”

  “Alright, add him and his wife to the list,” the General said, and Perry Mills, the White House Chief of Staff.

  “Very good. I’ll get right on the invitations and have them ready for you to sign,” his aide replied

  ****

  General Lamb’s aide now had both lists. The real invitation to a party he was actually throwing and the one to be passed on to Waggoner. Once he dropped off the list at a dead box it would be transferred three more times before it finally got to Thomas. It was slow but it assured a certain amount of security.

  The list contained fifteen names of officers that had bolted and gone to ground. Lamb included as much as he knew about where Thomas might look for them but it was only his best guess at most.

  Three days later Thomas retrieved the list and studied it. He drew up a plan that would take him to their last known location. Of course the ISS probably already had that as well but he had a plan for that too.

  Battalion 101 of the ISS was now using closed FBI locations so all he had to do was locate them there and follow them. If nothing else it would help him to determine where they weren’t.

  Admiral Lincoln Bix was thought to be in Idaho. Lamb had suggested that he start looking around Ashton, Idaho. He remembered Lincoln telling him that he planned on retiring there when his time was up. He also told him to be very careful because others might know this as well and they could be watching the place or already have nabbed Bix.

  Lamb wrote that General Lance Uber may be in Riverton, Wyoming. Uber’s wife had been left a cabin there when her parents died. It seemed reasonable that he would head to that area.

  Thomas read on down the list. Most had no indication as to where they may have gone. He felt that if he could locate one or two others they could spread out and find the rest. It would be a slow process and made much more dangerous now that Battalion 101 had been unleashed.

  ****

  Thomas cleaned the bug covered windshield. He had driven all night and was filling the Jeep in Fremont, Idaho just a few miles from Ashton. He would drive through Ashton just to check it out and go on down to Saint Anthony to eat. He would then head back and drive around the town and find a place to stay for the night. He could explore the place on foot and carefully ask some questions. He would also keep a look out for the black SUV’s the ISS was so fond of.

  Twenty minutes later he took the turnoff from State Road 20 and followed the road into town on US 47 which was also Main Street. As you would expect, most of the businesses were located on Main Street. The town was only eight or nine blocks long after he crossed the railroad tracks. He drove along until he came to the school and the football and track stadium.

  What to do next? Turn around and go back or turn right on US 32? He decided to turn right and follow it. He drove along in the countryside and eventually found a road going off west which he took. Thirty-five minutes later he was in Saint Anthony.

  Saint Anthony was somewhat bigger than Ashton and he found an abundance of motels along US 20. It was too early to check in so he found a small diner and had lunch. He grabbed a local paper and just sat and read. After he had paid he drove around the town. It was divided into two parts by US 20 with access to the other side by a single bridge. He wondered what they did when they had to do repair work. It must create a traffic nightmare.

  It was going on 2:30 p.m. when he checked into the Days Inn just off of US 20. After he had settled in he drove the area just checking out the town. At 4:00 p.m. he drove back to Ashton and found a store that sold portable GPS units. He figured he was going to need one if all of his contacts were in small burgs.

  “I need to get a GPS unit that I can switch from car to car,” he told the salesman.

  “No problem. I got all kinds,” showing him to where several types of GPS systems were on the shelf.

  “Got a recommendation? I want to use it on the highways but on some of the back roads as well.”

  “Well we sure have a lot of those around here. About the best one without spending a fortune is the Garmin NüVI®54. Lots of people buy them around here and we have more dirt roads than paved.”

  “Simple to operate?”

  “You bet. The screen is large enough that my old eyes can read it and it uses a touch screen for entry of addresses. Heck, my wife has one and goes all over the place.”

  “Okay then, I’ll take it. By the way, are there any good hunting places nearby or cabins for rent? I’m looking for a place to kind of get away from it all.”

  “There are lots of cabins around. How many are for rent I wouldn’t know. The best thing is to go down to the Real Estate office. It’s right between 6th and 7th Street when you’re heading down Main Street.”

  “Good idea. I’ll do that. How much for the Garmin?”

  “One sixty-five forty with tax.”

  “Cash okay?”

  “Oh yeah, we still take cash,” he chuckled.

  Thomas drove west down Main Street and saw the Real Estate sign. The lot only held four cars and two were already taking up spaces. He parked and went inside.

  “Hi, my name is Thomas. I’m looking for Admiral Bix’s place. I was wondering if you knew where his place might be,” he said.

  “Lincoln Bix?”

  “That very one. I know it’s around here someplace I just need some guidance in finding the place.”

  “Lincoln don’t take much to strangers,” the lady said.

  “Being his brother I wouldn’t hardly say I was a stranger unless family means something different in Idaho,” Thomas replied.

  “I see. I would have to call him first. I’m not about to send someone out there without his approval.”

  “By all means, call brother Linc.”

  She dialed a number she had taken from a card file.

  “Sorry to bother you Lincoln but there is a man here who says he is your brother. What? Okay...”

  “Sorry, what was your name again?”

  “Tell him it’s his brother, Retired General Thomas Bix.”

  She repeated the message over the phone.

  “Yes, no problem. Always glad to help. Good day,” she said and hung up.

  “He said he can’t wait to see you. I am to draw you a map of his location. It’s kind of hard to find. He is really out in the boonies,” she said much more friendly now that Lincoln had said it was okay.

  ****

  All the GPS could do for him was get him in the general location. He crossed over Mesa Falls and then took Anderson-Mill Canyon Road as it wound around and up the side of a butte. Near the top of the butte he followed a dirt road that turned into just a rutted track of tire marks. He finally arrived at a log cabin that was much like his own. A dirty Chevy truck with big tires was parked by the cabin.

  “Lincoln?” he yelled as he got out of the Jeep.

  “Linc, it’s Thomas Waggoner.”

  Nothing but the chirping of birds and the wind in the trees could be heard. ‘Damn, maybe they had already gotten to Lincoln’, h
e thought as he started walking toward the cabin.

  He had just stepped on the small porch when a voice said, “Freeze. Do not move.”

  “Lincoln?”

  “Just stay where you are. Do you have a gun on you?”

  “I do.”

  “Take it out slowly and drop it on the porch.”

  “Lincoln it’s me Thomas. I came to find you and see if you were alright.”

  “Thomas, take the gun out right now and drop it on the porch,” Lincoln said more harshly.

  He slowly reached behind his back and pulled the gun from under his coat and laid it on the porch.

  “What are you doing here?” Lincoln asked.

  “Can I turn around?”

  “Sure but keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Thomas turned around and saw that Lincoln had a full beard and obviously hadn’t cut his hair since he went into hiding. He had never seen him look like this before.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

  “Looking for you, obviously. Look, I resigned my commission the same as you and took off the next day. I’ve been hiding out in Montana at a cabin a lot like this one. Do you know about Battalion 101?”

  “Domestic terrorists. That means anyone that doesn’t go along with what the administration says.”

  “That’s right. That puts you and me on the list. I’m pretty sure they would like to get their hands on us.”

  “I would imagine you’re right. That still doesn’t explain why you are here.”

  “We need to contact the other officers who resigned and form some kind of protection group.”

  “I’ve been doing pretty well on my own. I don’t need a group to protect me.”

  “Are you sure about that? If I found you in one hour after I got to town how long do you think you would last?”

  Thomas could see Lincoln thinking it over.

  “Okay, you can put your hands down but leave the gun where it is for now.”

  “Listen, I have been doing the same thing you have. Staying out of sight and holeing up in the back hills. My place is a lot like this. The difference being that I can see someone coming two miles off. I have a man on the inside who signed the oath just so he could keep abreast of what the White House was up to. He sent me a list of names of guys like us that resigned and were smart enough to take off and drop out of sight. You know about 101 so you know they will probably go after the ones that weren’t smart enough to run. After they get the easy prey they will start looking for guys like you and me.”