"Ask your people to tell you where your missile is now targeting?” The president turned to the Secretary of Interior Security and the Secretary of Defense. "Where is the missile headed?"
"The secretaries both spoke into their phones. The secretary of Defense got the information first and said, "Mr. President, it is headed right at the White House. We have lost complete control of the missile. It has been hacked. That has never happened before."
The president's shoulders sagged a bit and he spoke into the phone. "OK, John. What is it you want?"
"Mr. President, you can't win this one even if you call for a major military strike on Bent Pine. The word is out and, if you try, you will soon find yourself hanging by the neck from a tree on the lawn of the White House. You may get me and a few of the citizens here, but the rest of the country will hang you for treason, Sir, and deservedly so.”
"Remember, the people of the United States of America are the single largest standing army in the world, with over 300 million guns, and the will to use them. Your underpowered assault rifles and body armor are no match for a typical American deer hunter with a 30-06, and I doubt our military will support you in killing American citizens. I suggest you cancel gun confiscation unless you want to start the largest and bloodiest revolution this continent has ever seen. One I add, that you will not survive."
The president paused for almost a minute. John suspected he was conferring with his staff. "All right John, you won this one. I will rescind the gun confiscation for now and recall the Department of Interior Security people from Bent Pine," he paused. "You will redirect the missile to somewhere harmless?"
"It is being done now as we speak," John signaled to the hooded figure and he or she did something on the laptop and then gave John a thumb's up.
"John, this isn't over," the president said. "I will get you and I will have my way with this country. I always get my way, no matter what. This is just a small setback. No one, and I mean no one, ever bests me!"
"Mr. President," John said, "have you considered that We The People may get you first?" and set the phone back in its cradle. He turned to the others in the room, "Gentlemen, this incident is over. We won," he paused, "but the revolution is just beginning and it is going to get really nasty before it is done."
"I do not trust the president," the mayor said.
"Neither do I," Merle said. "Hey, now I know you. You are the guy in the video; the one who the feds were after with the quad-copter drones."
"Yes," John said. "That was me."
"I am sorry about your wife," Merle said.
"Thanks. Me too," John wistfully replied. "We still have a lot to do. We have to evacuate as many folks as we can from Bent Pine and get them to safety."
"Do you think the feds will try to strike again?” The mayor asked.
"Yes," John said. "But I think we have a week or more. They will have to do political damage and spin control before they will attempt a strike. We already have the story of this attack out on the internet and some of our folks are gathering more film and interviews and getting more material on the internet—mostly hosted on foreign servers—as fast as they can. We dealt the government a serious blow today, thanks to you folks in Bent Pine. However, they will not quit until they are all dead."
"Neither will we," Merle said, "and there are a lot more of us."
Chapter 23: MONTANA
"Galt's Gulch is a state of mind.” John Debrouillard
Montana
Peggy looked over the 7,000-acre ranch from the hilltop. From her vantage point she could see the roads and houses being built, and the construction in the old mine pit which would soon create an underground citadel that would lie directly under center of the town they were building. Of the 2700 or so citizens of Bent Pine, 2,500 had come to Montana by ones and twos and in various raggle-taggle groups. Most of the rest had moved elsewhere. Only a very few diehards had stayed behind in Bent Pine.
The council had purchased the ranch for $30,000,000 and donated it to the cause. The council also had several deals underway to purchase large adjacent tracts of land.
John said that it might have been better to disperse the residents of Bent Pine in smaller enclaves throughout the country, but no one wanted to do so. New identities and local bank accounts with long local histories were being created for all in the hopes that the government could be confused long enough for the people to win the revolution.
Everyone who settled here from Bent Pine was deeded two acres to build on, if they wanted it, or a house in the town with lot large enough for a garden and chickens, if possible considering location. The council provided the cost of materials but the labor was left up to the residents. No one complained about the work. These were true Americans who would have made the Founding Father's proud.
This was a planned settlement with room for gardens and greenhouses, agricultural land, and small-scale commercial hydroponics and aquaponics operations, as well as pastures for hay and grass-fed beef and space for small-scale manufacturing. The goal was to make the town and surrounding area as locally sustainable as possible.
The town, which everyone has simply started calling Home, was also laid out with a strong eye to defense. One of the Bent Pine folks was a retired General from the Vietnam era. Though now in his late seventies, he had put together a team to design the town's defenses. He had also requested that every household in town be armed with true full auto assault rifles and everyone old enough taught how to use them.
An impromptu gun range had been set up, and it was to date the most popular activity in town. No one had any problems in defying the old ban on full auto rifles and a few full auto guns had appeared and more than a few ARs had been modified. Peggy smiled when she remembered the ten-year-old girl she had seen at the gun range consistently placing three round bursts in the center of a target at 100 yards with a M-16. That child would grow up to be no one's victim.
All of the houses built so far had basements, and most were earth-sheltered as well. More than 90% were bulletproof. The federal invasion of Bent Pine had convinced most residents that bulletproofing was good.
Peggy glanced at the slight, hooded figure beside her. She still did not know the girl's name. The girl was a member of the hacker group that Peggy had managed to contact. She was the liaison between the hacker group and the resistance.
"You like him, don't you?” The hooded girl asked.
Peggy was a bit surprised. "Who?” she asked.
"John," the hooded girl said.
Peggy stared into the girl's dark blue eyes. "Yes," she replied, "I do."
"So does Toni," the hooded girl replied.
"I know," Peggy said with a hint of forlornness in her voice.
"You think you can't compete with Toni because she is beautiful?” The hooded girl asked.
"Well, that thought has crossed my mind," Peggy replied. "Toni is drop-dead gorgeous."
"You are smarter than Toni," the hooded girl said.
"Toni is smart," Peggy replied.
"Yes, but not nearly as smart as you."
"What are you saying?” Peggy asked.
"You know what I am saying," the hooded girl smiled. "I like Jonas. I am going to marry him even though he doesn't know that yet."
"But you are sixteen and he is twenty-five," Peggy protested.
"That doesn't change what will happen," the hooded girl calmly stated.
"What if Toni is determined to have John?” Peggy asked.
"Toni is determined, but not as determined as you, or John for that matter. You and John are a match just like Jonas and me. This I know."
Peggy stood, wordlessly thinking about what the slight, young girl said. It was not Peggy’s style to chase after a man. Besides, they would probably all be dead soon if the government figured out how to get to them. However, the young girl's words brightened Peggy's mood. To change the subject she asked. "Do you think you can really hide this place from the feds?"
The smile under the
hood grew wide. "Oh yes, it is already being done. We have hacked into the satellite feeds and drone feeds and all data for these coordinates are being replaced with our own data, which shows only an undisturbed landscape. This location is also not on any regular flight paths of commercial or military flights, and we are quite remote and located in a very lightly populated area. Plus, the town and habitations are being built so that the town and surrounding area will not obviously stand out from above."
Peggy smiled. "I hope you are right."
"The resistance will win, and this place will be just fine. This is where Jonas and I will raise our children."
"But you haven't told him yet?"
"Of course not. He is not ready for that concept," the thin young girl smiled under her hood. "He will be when I am ready, though."
Washington, D.C.
"The entire town is empty! What do you mean the entire town is empty?” The president asked.
"Just what I said, Mr. President," the secretary of Interior Security replied. "Almost all of the residents have just up and moved out of Bent Pine, including the mayor and the police force. None of the remaining people there have any idea where they went. They walked away from their jobs, their homes, and their businesses. We have interrogated several of the few residents who stayed, with prejudice, I might add, and they truly do not know where the people went."
"Where did they go? Do you think they all went to the same place?"
"We think somewhere in the West. We haven't been able to track them. All of the RFID chips, and GPS systems in their vehicles are dead. We suspect they all went to the same place, but we are not sure."
"How many people are we talking about?"
"Approximately 2,500, Mr. President."
"Are you drunk, blind, or just plain stupid?” The president almost shouted before regaining his composure. Then, more calmly, he said, "There is no way that could happen."
"Mr. President, we were able to go back into our satellite data and find pictures of the people leaving. They left in small groups using trucks and trailers for the most part to move their stuff. They all went west. Somewhere around Kansas we lost them in our imagery. All of them, one by one; they just disappeared. They were there in one frame and simply gone in the next."
"How could that happen? Do they have some sort of Star Trek style cloaking device?"
"We don't think so Mr. President."
"Then what?"
"We think the data streams from the satellites were hacked and all trace of these people removed before the data reached us."
"No one can do that," the president said.
"Nonetheless, that is our best guess about what was done."
"That would mean that our entire surveillance system has been penetrated."
"Yes Mr. President, I am afraid so."
"Could it have been that hacker group, Unknown?” The president asked.
"No Sir, Mr. President. We have moles in Unknown. They tell us that not only did they not do this, but that they are simply not capable of doing this at the scale which it has been done."
The president's face grew very somber. "I think we may be up against a very formidable foe."
"I think you are right, Mr. President."
"However, we have the entire might of the federal government on our side. We have my DIS army that I built of people with loyalty only to me. We have numerous federal agencies funded by taxpayer dollars that do my bidding alone. There is no way that these people can beat us.
"I hope you are right, Mr. President."
Home, Montana
John stood on the edge of the precipice looking out over the stunningly beautiful terrain and the town below. Peggy was on his right and Toni was on his left. Nearby stood Doc, Merle, Lorne, Gwen, Jonas, Tom, Myrtle, Lowboy, Porter, and, slightly separated from the rest, a slight, hooded figure. Leon was sitting in a wheelchair close to Doc holding Peggy's cat Loco. His cancer had spread to his bones and walking was now difficult for him. Nonetheless, he had a smile on his face and a lightweight carbine rested across the arms of his wheelchair. All the rest were armed as well, except the hooded figure, who held a laptop, and Jonas who still pretty much feared guns. The sun was setting and casting a reddish glow across the mountaintop.
Toni took John's left arm and Peggy took his right arm. They both stood close to him as the evening chill grew. Gwen was standing between Myrtle and Lowboy and all three were in animated conversation. Most of the rest were as lost in thought as John.
"I do not know what the future holds for any of us," John said looking around at the group gathered around him, "but I am honored to fight for our country with the finest group of people I have ever known.” He paused a bit. "Some of us, perhaps even all of us, may not survive what is to come, but I have no doubt that We the People will win this revolution and take back our country. Our traitor-in-chief has vastly underestimated the strength and will of We the People. We will prevail."
At that, ten rifles, one .380 pistol, one laptop, and one empty fist were thrust into the air and the cheer echoed off of the mountains.
PREVIEW of DRONE WARS TWO: FLINT AND STEEL
By
Mike Whitworth
Look for it soon on www.docspress.com
Chapter One: The Far North
"The combination of raw determination, knowledge, and creativity is man's most fearsome weapon, bar none.” John Debrouillard
Somewhere in the Far North
I stood naked in the snow facing the man who had ordered the murder of my wife—and me. My hands were tied behind my back with doubled plastic wire ties, and it was cold, really cold. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. One security goon had a grip on my arms and five others had guns pointed at me.
"You are no longer the thorn in my side, John Debrouillard. I have you now," the president said. "Simply killing you is not enough. I want you to suffer for the trouble you have caused me."
"Mr. Pretender to the Throne," I said, spitting blood from my mouth, the result of being beaten by the president's goons. "Someday, I will kill you for murdering my wife; and for the destruction you have wreaked on our Constitution and our country. You have my promise on that."
"Not likely, John," The president smiled. "We are going to turn you loose here. It is 20 degrees below zero right now and it is just going to get colder tonight. It is more than five hundred miles from here to the nearest civilization. You won't last until morning and I will be able to say in good conscience to the American People that I did not have you killed. I will simply say that I do not know for sure what happened to you."
I spat in the president's face. He stood there, shocked at first. I don't think he had ever been physically threatened during his entire protected life. Then he wiped his face, and turned his cold, reptilian eyes on me. "Bind his feet, too," He said to his goons.
The man behind me pushed me face first into the snow and, with two others, held my legs so one of them could bind my ankles with a pair of plastic wire ties.
The president laughed and trudged through the snow back to his waiting helicopter. His guards followed. I managed to roll over on my side and watch them board the chopper and take off. Now I was starting to get mad.
I once watched an internet video where a fellow showed how to break plastic wire ties binding your wrists with a powerful, sudden movement of the shoulders and arms. I struggled to my knees in the foot-deep snow and had a go at it. At the second try, the plastic wire ties broke and my hands were free. My wrists were bloody where the plastic cut me, but I didn't care at the moment. Once my hands were free, I used both my legs and hands to break free of the restraints around my ankles in much the same way. In less than a minute I was free and leaving bloody tracks in the snow as I made for the trees on the edge of the open area where the helicopter had landed.
I knew that getting warm was my first priority. I needed fire, yet I had nothing but the broken plastic wire ties I had salvaged. I was completely naked and barefoot. I had
no clothing, no matches, no knife, and no food or water. I was in a fix that even my Paleolithic ancestors would have feared.
Moving as quickly as I possibly could, not the least worried about sweating while shivering naked at 20 below, I headed into the trees and down slope toward what I hoped was a creek. I paused to tear huge handfuls of tinder fungus from several birch trees as I passed them. That task was a lot tougher than I thought it would be. Once more I was thankful for internet videos on wilderness survival, which I had watched by the hundreds.
I knew from reading that the tinder fungus should be dried before use, but I didn't have the time or a fire for that. I was just hoping I could somehow use the fungus as it was to start a fire.
One thing I learned as a boy was to never quit. I came from a neighborhood where no one went to college. I went to college and earned three degrees in spite of that. It wasn't in my nature to lie down and die. So I didn't. Nature would have to kill me all by herself. I wasn't going to help her even one little bit.
At the base of the slope was a small stream. It was completely frozen over, but I could see cobbles and pebbles through the clear ice. I looked around the bank and found a twenty-pound rock that I wrested free from the snow, and then smashed through the ice to get at the cobbles and pebbles below. There was one I had my eye on. It was brown and looked little different from many of the others. I was pretty sure that this one was a chert cobble, though. My study of rocks at the university and my time collecting them as a child might pay off now.
I smashed the brown cobble with my large rock and it cracked in half. It was a nice chert, almost four inches across. I then chose a smaller rock and, after a few tries, knocked a large flake from the chert. My distant ancestors could probably have done much better, but my flake had a single sharp edge and I was pleased.
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