World War III - Home Front: A Novel of the Next American Revolution - Book One – As Day turns to Night

by William C. Seigler

  “My God, how did we come to this?” Ilene said. “Are you still thinking about attacking the police?”

  “No Mom, like the man said, there are better ways to fight. I intend to investigate as many of those ways as possible.”

  “Bill?”

  “I’m all in.”

  “Me too,” Ilene said with authority Phil had not seen before. Suddenly, the parents he thought he knew, were different people. Maybe they were still the people they had always been, but life and parenting had forced them into new roles.

  “How do we get in touch with Mr., I mean Commander Rico?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Bill. “I think he will be in contact with us.”

  “I don’t know about the both of you, but I feel better than at any time since the attack. Goodnight my dears, I’m going to read a bit, then go to bed.” She kissed both of them and headed off to the bedroom.

  “I want to call a friend of mine.”

  “One of your old buddies?”

  “No, the policeman I met recently in New York.”

  “They’ve had a bad time of it up there. I don’t know if you will be able to get in touch with him.”

  “I know, but I want to know if he’s okay. Night Dad.”

  “Goodnight son.”

  * * *

  “Hello Cy, are you all right man?”

  “Phil, good to hear from you. Hang on a second.” Cy rolled into a sitting position and walked painfully over to a chair.

  He must have groaned when he sat down. “Cy, you okay?”

  “Define, okay.”

  “I heard there was rioting in New York.”

  “Yeah, we had our hands full, still have our hands full, but I’m out of the fight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got hit.”

  “You’ve been shot?”

  “Yes, but I’ll heal. I’m still in the hospital though. I think they’ll let me go tomorrow. My folks insist I go and stay with them.”

  “That would be the best thing. No fun having a bullet in you and be all alone,” said Phil with a short choked chuckle.

  “How are things in Texas?”

  “Not so great.”

  “Your folks doing okay.”

  “Yeah, but, well, this has shaken up their view of reality.”

  “Hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m having the same problem,” said Cy.

  “Look, you’re going to be out of work for a while, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you come down here, and visit us in Texas. Give you a chance to get out of the city, and there are some things we can talk about in private.”

  Cy understood the meaning. There was something Phil wanted to talk about, but not over the telephone and certainly not by email. “Well, I don’t know. Flights can be expensive, but right now I hear they are dropping fares to get people on airliners again. I guess it’s because of all the trouble.”

  “Then you’ll come? I’ll find a place to put you up.”

  “Okay, it’ll be a few days. My mom won’t let me out of the house till I get better.”

  “Okay, give me a call when you get to feeling better.”

  Chapter 18 – The Deal is Struck

  Two days later the doorbell rang. When Bill answered it, Commander Rico was standing there. “Come on in,” he said.

  After leading Rico into the living room he said, “Hold on a second.” With that he got his electronics detector out and went over Rico.

  “We found another one in the kitchen. The place is clean now. Your turn.”

  Rico went over Bill and checked the room for bugs. It was clean. “I’m glad you got one of these. Always makes me feel better knowing my private conversations stay private.”

  Phil and his mom came in. Ilene approached Rico and offered her hand. “So nice to see you again Commander,” she said. “Please sit down.”

  The family sat around the living room with their guest. “I won’t mince words,” Bill began. “As someone said, ‘We’ve left the gates of liberty unguarded for too long’. Now what do you want us to do?”

  “First, as to lawyers, I have someone who is willing to take your case. This one will get paid only if you win. Will that be satisfactory?”

  “Sure,” said Bill. “Is he any good?”

  “She’s a ball of fire, a redhead who eats bad cops for breakfast.”

  “I like her already,” said Phil.

  “Most of her clients do. You will need to set up an appointment. Here is her card. The only restriction is that under no circumstances you mention my name or even my existence. I’ve never been here, and you don’t know me. That’s for the legal beagle end of it.

  “Now, as to the rest, are you willing to work with us?”

  “What do you want us to do?” asked Ilene suspiciously.

  “There are many of us, but until recently we kept a low profile. What we need is intelligence. Step one is to read our rules of engagement.”

  He handed them several pieces of paper. They were short and to the point.

  “Do we keep these?” asked Bill.

  “You might be better to memorize what you can and burn them. We have someone who works with training operatives. This individual will come by with me the first time and will conduct your indoctrination. Said individual will assign you contacts after you have been shown what is needed. Remember, no one, no friend, no relative, no one is to know about your association with us. Breach of this understanding may put you at risk of being picked up by the feds. This is serious business.”

  “Is this dangerous?” interjected Ilene.

  “Yes, but where is it safe anymore? I don’t mean to be rude, but your home is not safe anymore from the very people who were supposed to be protecting you. Do what we ask in the way we want it done, and your risks will be minimal.

  “We will need you to keep an eye on certain websites from the library or somewhere that can’t be traced to you. Next, there will be times when we will need certain places watched and any activity reported. It is boring, time consuming work, but this kind of intelligence work is vital to restoring the republic.”

  “I want to ask you about that,” said Phil. “I’ve got a beef with the cops, but I’m not planning to overthrow the government.”

  “Nor do we want to either. Our entire purpose is to restore the Constitution to its rightful place as the law of the land. We want sound money, peace, and prosperity. We have no interest in setting up a government. We only want ours to live within the limits of the Constitution.”

  “That sounds lovely, but it could be perverted into something ugly if you guys get into power,” said Bill.

  “We have no intention of getting into power. We only want to clean out the corrupt mess Washington has become. We were doing it peacefully and legally until they started rounding up dissidents and putting them in camps. American citizens, innocent of crimes, were put in camps. I’m going to leave you with some DVDs concerning what we’ve discovered. Our fingerprints are not on them so feel free to pass them on to others if you like.”

  “I want to make sure you are not going to ask us to do anything violent,” demanded Ilene.

  “Absolutely not, that would compromise everything we are doing with the intelligence unit. Just observe and report in the manner in which you will be trained. And remember, the lawsuit against the police is a completely separate matter. It has nothing to do with your work as an intelligence operative.”

  Phil spoke up. “You know I have a friend, well, someone I just met. He’s a New York City cop, and he helped me out with some problems getting through security. He seems like an honest cop and might be someone you would like to meet.”

  “Possibly, what’s his name?” said Rico pulling his notebook from the briefcase.

  * * *

  Two days later around midmorning the doorbell rang. Phil answered it. “Good morning,” h
e said and led Commander Rico and his associate back to the living room.

  Ilene turned the television off as they entered. They rose and greeted Rico and the gentleman with him.

  “Allow me to introduce Amos. Amos this is Mrs. Prost.”

  “How do you do?”

  “Nice to meet you,” she responded.

  “This is Mr. Prost,” Rico continued.

  “Mr. Prost.”

  “And this is their son Lance Corporal Phillip Prost, USMC.”

  “Mr. Amos,” said Phil.

  “Corporal.”

  “Please sit gentlemen,” said Bill.

  “Amos will conduct your training and give you your first assignments. Later you may be assigned to a different contact as the situation warrants.”

  Ilene spoke up first. “If you don’t mind my asking, Amos, how did you become involved with Commander Rico?”

  “I don’t mind at all. I was in one of the prison camps for dissidents. The Commander led a part of the team who rescued us. After my rescue, I opted to join the resistance in the intelligence field. I had been a teacher, so I gravitated quite naturally to training new people.”

  “Do you have any family?” she asked.

  “Yes I do, but any effort to contact them would put both them and myself in danger. They only know that I am free.”

  “The news keeps saying that those prisoners are dangerous criminals,” said Bill.

  “Yes, I know. My dangerous crime was to publish a book on the destruction of the government of Libya to stop Gaddafi, from promoting a gold coin, the Dinar, as a Pan-African coin to be used in the sale of oil.

  “I wound up on the no fly list and was picked up as I tried to board a jet to Miami with my wife. We were going there so my wife could be with our daughter at the birth of her first child.”

  “You don’t sound too terribly dangerous,” said Phil.

  “I’m not the first writer to get the ‘treatment’, but the prison camps are a new level of statism. Now, shall we begin?”

  Chapter 19 – No Fly

  “What do you mean, I can’t get on the airplane?” demanded Cy.

  “I mean just what I said. Your name is on the ‘No Fly’ list. You are considered a domestic terrorist.”

  “I’m a New York City policeman; I not some sort of terrorist. I have my ID right here.”

  “Well, you’re on the list.”

  “I want to speak to a supervisor.”

  The agent radioed for a supervisor who didn’t show up for twenty minutes.

  “How did my name get on some list?” Cy asked the chubby supervisor.

  “I don’t know; we just get the list.”

  “How do I go about getting my name off the list?”

  “I don’t think you can.”

  “This is a bunch of bull.”

  “Maybe you should have not gotten so smart with TSA.”

  “Okay, that’s what this is about. You have the power so you abuse it. About what I should expect from you people.” With that he turned and stalked off. He called Phil.

  The phone rang, and Phil picked it up. “Hello.”

  “Hi Phil, this is Cy. I’ve got a problem.”

  “What sort of problem?”

  “They won’t let me on the plane.”

  “Why?”

  “My name’s been added to some sort of ‘No Fly’ list. The supervisor hinted it was because of what happened the other day when you came through here.”

  “I’m sorry man; I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

  “Not your fault man. These people are pigs.” Cy was surprised at his own use of that word. It might have surprised Phil who remained silent for a few moments.

  “You think you’re up to driving?” asked Phil.

  “Not really.”

  “What about the train?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it. Isn’t it expensive?”

  “I’m not really sure,” responded Phil. “Look, let me call you back in thirty minutes. I’ll fire up the computer and see what I can come up with.”

  “Okay, that’ll give me time to check in with my sergeant.”

  “Great, I’ll call you back.”

  With that Cy headed off to the police station at the airport. There was a sergeant on duty that he did not know. He went in and showed his ID.

  “I’ve had a problem with TSA. I need to see what can be done about it.”

  “Oh yeah, I heard about you. I think the Captain wants to talk to you. This was left here for you.”

  The desk sergeant handed Cy a large envelope. “Thanks.”

  He went someplace to sit and look it over. This was not going to be his day. Seems there had been a complaint lodged against him with Homeland Security, and the department was suspending him pending an investigation. At least it was with pay.

  “Well, that just about tears it. Maybe I should take that train trip,” he said aloud to no one in particular. He cleaned out his locker to save himself another trip to the airport.

  His phone rang. “Hello?” he said.

  “Cy?”

  “Yep.”

  “I didn’t want to use our cell phones, so I went to a payphone at the super market.? Look, find a payphone and call this number.” Phil gave him the number of a nearby payphone. In a few minutes they were back in contact.

  “Okay, what’s up?” asked Cy.

  “I don’t trust these cell phones anymore. Anyway there’s a train that can get you down here.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been suspended pending an investigation concerning my actions the other day at the security station.”

  “Sorry to get you in trouble.”

  “Don’t worry about it. They are clearly abusing their authority. Anyway, I might as well if I can afford it. It might be a good idea to see the country.”

  His dad had to return to the airport to get him first. The next day Cy took the train to Atlanta then waited for one to Dallas. Any other time it would have been a nice ride.

  This was not any other time. Every city of any size had fires and many had riots. The train had to be delayed and detoured several times. Going through the Washington DC area he saw demonstrations and counterdemonstrations. Apparently, a temporary increase in welfare benefits had run out, and the welfare parasites thought their benefits had been cut, Cy observed.

  They had expected better from President Potentater. He was their man, and they would have done anything for him. Cy listened to the local news whenever he came near a city. It was almost always the same. There was rioting and looting.

  There were marches everywhere. A church was burned, and a mosque burned in retaliation. The establishment blamed white supremists and the Muslim community blamed Christians. The lame-stream media blamed the tea party. Democrat statists blamed Republican statists and vice versa, it seemed to Cy.

  There were bombs going off everywhere and all manner of unrest. The president never used the phrase “martial law,” but a blind man could see that he was ruling like a despot. How long this would last was anybody’s guess.

  The train rocked along as he sat in the dining car. Now this was the way to travel, but his mind was never far from the trouble that was tearing the country apart. Right now, the world was in about the same predicament that it was in right before the outbreak of World War I. However, this time the U.S. was starting to look like 1776.

  Another question was, would the military back the president? The military had become a laboratory for social engineering, but it had its hands full in Syria and Iran. Add to that there were still troops remaining in Iraq and Afghanistan in spite of what the country had been told. The last thing it needed was a front in the U.S. itself.

  So far, the police and sheriffs’ departments were holding their own against the rioters, but as to the Iranian terror cells, that was another matter. Perhaps they were after them, but everywhere he went, the local news only talked about attacks on “domestic terrorist groups.”

 
; There was nothing about it on the national news, just the local stuff. Odd, he thought.

  His coffee came. “Thanks,” he said. Then his phone went off; it was his dad.

  “How you doing son?”

  “Dad? What number are you calling from? I don’t recognize it.”

  “I’m calling from a payphone. I didn’t know they still had these things.”

  “Why are you calling from a payphone?”

  “Today two FBI agents came asking questions about you. I told them you were off to visit a friend. I was deliberately vague, but here’s the kicker. I was ordered, not asked, ordered and threatened, not to tell you they had been here.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not good. I know that much. Your poor mother’s worried sick. She wants you to come home, but I don’t. I want you to lay low for a while, and don’t call me with your cell phone. Find a payphone. You remember where you found me recently?”

  “Yeah Dad.”

  “Don’t say it. I’ll try to be there on game day during the game, if you know what I mean.”

  “Sure Dad, do you think it’s gotten that bad?”

  “I don’t know, but right now I don’t trust anybody who is not family or close friends. I’ll wait for your call. Goodbye son.”

  “Goodbye Dad.”

  He sat there staring out the window. His dad was never one to get too dramatic. The seriousness of Mel’s tone disturbed him. After a few minutes, his phone rang again. It was another number he did not recognize. Dad again?

  This time a young girl’s voice responded on the other end. “Hi Cy, this is a friend of your sister’s. She said I could talk to you.”

  Which sister? Coming right after his dad’s call, this sent a chill. “I’m sixteen, and my boyfriend just broke up with me.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “You see he used to talk dirty to me on the phone, and I was thinking you would do the same for me. Please, I’ll make it worth your time when you get back from Texas.”

  That did it. He had not told anyone other than his father where he was going, and his dad was a very closed mouth guy. You couldn’t pry information from him. He certainly would not have told the munchkins.