“Hey kid. You’re okay in my book,” Raz said to Cody.
“Thanks,” Cody responded with surprise. “You too.”
“I’m truly proud ta know ya Cody.”
“Ha.” Cody stopped, struck by Raz’s words. “Nobody ever said that to me.”
Raz said, “Well, I’m sure ya’ll hear it again.”
Cody focused his tired eyes on the dirt path, but he was thinking about what Raz had said to him.
“Wish more men felt the way ya do,” Raz added. “Ya’re correct. Our rights are bein’ suppressed, ignored, and violated everyday by unendin’ government regulations, laws, treaties, and hush-hush deals. It’s what they do and they don’t never intend on lettin’ up unless we the people put a stop ta it.” Raz was working himself into a frenzy again.
“Ya travel by plane and ya’re defiled fifteen ways ta Sunday. They say it’s ta prevent terrorists attacks. Takin’ my damn shoes off prevents terrorists intent on killin’ Americans? Give me a fuckin’ break. Then they have ya take off ya belt and ya watch and dump the change from ya pockets. Hey! They say. That stopped the bad guys, so let’s squeeze the toothpaste tube and forbid nail clippers. Makin’ us all safe, don’t ya know. Why stop there? Next they zap us with X-rays and oogle at our naked bodies on the screens. No weapons there, but we need ta go a little bit farther.
“Ya refuse ta be radiated or ya have a piece of metal in ya skull from the war, so they take ya ta the side and frisk ya. Oh, they love that part. Ya stand there like a common criminal for everyone ta see while the TSA perverts grope your junk and fondle your ass hopin’ ta find somethin’ suspicious, like a ball point pen or a key stuck up your ass. All in the name of security. So they slip on the latex gloves and go ta town checkin’ places that ain’t never been checked before ‘cept by ya doctor. If his god-damn fingers gone any deeper ya woulda had ta marry the guy.”
Cody couldn’t help but smile. Raz wasn’t shy about his opinions.
“Hey! They say, we ain’t never been blown up so far. This shit must be workin’. How ‘bout we check grandma’s skivvies and that guy’s wheelchair and the baby’s shitty diaper. Can’t be too cautious. And they tell us over and over that all that probin’ and violatin’ catches terrorists and saves the country, hallelujah. Bull shit! They just want ta mess with us and show us who’s the boss.”
Raz looked at the map once more. The road had all but disappeared as they followed what seemed to be nothing but a beaten animal trail. He reached back and retrieved bottles of water for himself and Cody.
“There’s one thing I’d like to know,” Cody asked the old guy.
“What might that be?”
Cody shook his head. “How in the hell do you know all this stuff?”
Raz cleared his throat. “I read and listen and watch. But mostly ‘cause I got their damn book.”
“Book? What book?” Cody asked, shocked as hell.
“The Internment and Resettlement Operations Manual,” Raz divulged. “It’s their god-damn secret playbook. Tells everythin’ ‘bout the takeover, right down ta a gnat’s ass.”
“Really?”
“Yup. And I got me a copy of it,” Raz smiled.
Chapter 32
The small convoy of four military buses from the Fort Huachuca area moved along the roughly graded road toward the halo of lights hovering over a protected valley. Dust clouds kicked up as the transports moved closer to the desert camp. Within minutes they rolled down the steep mountain inclines and slowed as they approached the guarded gates.
Most detainees on Robin’s bus stirred, looking out the windows as the massive compound came in sight. The wind blew gusts of cold air through the shattered windows. Some rested in their troubled sleep, hoping the nightmare of a dream would soon end. But for all of them it was just the beginning. This place would be their new home for the foreseeable future. Whimpers and subdued cries filled the bus as the captives viewed the prison. Food and water were on everyone’s minds, but the most urgent concern was, where were they now?
“Mama. Where are we?” young Jennifer asked her mother as they bumped to their stop. Robin had no idea, but she didn’t want to worry her children more than necessary. “A building where we can sleep more comfortably,” she said to ease her daughter’s growing fear.
“I’m hungry,” Jeffrey said. His stomach was making constant growling sounds.
“We’re all hungry,” Robin agreed. “When we exit the bus you two hold onto to me. You understand? Do not leave my side.” Both kids nodded.
The guard at the front of the bus rose from his seat. He yelled something in mixed English-Russian to the passengers. They understood enough to stand up and gather their few possessions. The guard barked another order and the folding bus door opened to the freezing air. He stepped down to the ground and motioned everyone to move out. People were exiting the other buses up ahead.
Robin grabbed her children and slowly followed the rest of the scared passengers off the bus. Nick’s wife and children were a dozen people behind. Her girls were complaining and crying. Grownups tried to shush the little ones unsuccessfully, hoping not to enrage the guards. Mere hours earlier, the captives had witnessed the merciless killings of many of their neighbors. They did not want it to happen again.
The ragged mob of evacuees lined up in jumbled lines outside their buses. One guard from each transport watched over them as the second soldier entered the buses looking for stragglers. The Russians could be heard screaming and shouting at several people still in their seats. Moving too slowly for their own good, the guards shot the detainees where they sat. There was no time for patience, no time for humane treatment, no time for mercy. Those outside began crying louder as the guards exited the buses. Several of the men were forced at gun point to pull the dead bodies off the buses and drop them at the feet of those waiting for something else to happen to them.
The captives were freezing from the strong mountain winds and bitter cold. Several of them fell to the hard ground, exhausted and hungry. The guards brutally kicked them to the side. Three of the tired souls were shot without a second’s warning. The foreign troops were vicious in their actions and seemed to enjoy their power over the great Americans.
A sixty year old man who Robin knew, approached a guard. “Please, sir. We are thirsty and hungry. No one has had anything to drink or eat all day.” The guard stared at the older man without a spark of pity in his eyes. The stock of his rifle violently smashed the man’s face, breaking his nose and rendering him unconscious. More screams and whimpers followed. He too was shot like a rabid dog.
The prisoners were left to stand in the late night freeze. Robin looked around, taking in the layout of the camp. She had to keep her wits about her as she scanned the landscape for future reference. Harsh bright lights on poles twenty feet tall cast eerie shadows amongst the imprisoned. The lights were staggered about every forty feet along the chain fences surrounding large wooden buildings. There were no lights on the inner side of the fences topped with razor wire. There were no other people looking on, just those from the newly arriving buses.
Robin pulled her children closer to her side. People kept their heads down so as not to draw attention to themselves or cause trouble with the blood thirsty guards. The building they stood before was huge, with few windows and a single front door closed tight. It was the end building of a long row of similar roughshod structures. Robin glanced behind her, counting at least ten rings of lights surrounding other buildings. For all she knew there could have been many more around a bend in the hidden contours of the foothills.
The massiveness of the complex was overwhelming. It was at least a half mile long, with buildings on either side of the bus road. Smaller shacks, guard outposts, and twenty foot tall guard towers were scattered along the outer edges of the compound on the patrol road. The entire camp appeared to be double-fenced, each twelve feet high and strung with razor wire overhanging both inward and outward.
Other buses were comin
g in at a steady pace from the north, dropping off their human cargo into the depths of a living hell. Residents from Tucson and beyond, Robin thought. Two fresh soldiers hopped into Robin’s bus and the others in the fleet, then they quickly drove off to gather another group of subversive evacuees.
Robin’s group was ordered to move forward. They stayed close to each other and were pushed through the wired gate into a single compound. Some were diverted to other nearby buildings. The fence was locked behind them. Buckets of water sat on the ground inside the fence line. The adults scrambled to the buckets. An inch of solid ice topped each water pail. Men kicked the ice with their fists and feet, breaking it into chunks. They stuck their bare hands into the painfully cold water, scooping up half handfuls into their parched mouths. The icy liquid hurt their chapped lips and lined their empty stomachs shocking their lukewarm bodies.
Women elbowed their way to the buckets, dragging their children for a few drops of water. Once the young ones had their fill, the mothers drank heartily from the filthy, open containers. In the front of the group one of the men walked up to the door of the dark building, dim light from the road hitting his back. He reached for and turned the makeshift doorknob. The door creaked open a bit. The man looked back at his fellow captives and nodded, as if to say it was safe to enter.
He pushed the flimsy wood door inward. The inside of the building was darker than a coal mine. No lights, no shadows, no discernible images. There was no sound as he cautiously stepped in. Without any visually distinct lines or perceptions it was impossible to tell how big or small the room was. It was impossible to see who or what was inside. The others followed like blind people, one by one, into the unknown, clinging to one another for safety.
There was a deep cough from within, and then a chorus of several more. The crowd stopped still.
“Close the damn door, my friends. It’s friggin’ cold out there.”
Chapter 33
The President of the United States left the briefing and returned to his office. “Get the Chinese Chairman on the line,” he spoke into his phone.
“Yes, Mr. President,” his aid answered.
The President sat at his magnificent nineteenth-century Resolute desk made of English oak, which was an exact replica of the original one in his Oval Office. The hand-carved panel in the front displayed the same presidential seal with its eagle motif. A thick ‘Top Secret’ file rested before him. General Wells, the Secretary of National Defense, sat across from him. No one else was in the room. No one else needed to hear what was about to be said.
His secure satellite desk phone buzzed. In an instant the world had changed by his own hand. His name would soon be on every human being’s lips as the most courageous man in history. He was the man whose vision and daring was about to alter the course of mankind and solidify world politics. He was the man who took a broken system and would turn it into a smoothly operating organization. He was the one who would fix the deliberate faults, right the intended wrongs, revise the limited, amend the oversights, modify the old, and improve what people said could never be done.
The President took a few more precious moments before picking up the phone. He would be more popular than any man who had ever lived. More esteemed than all generals who had ever ruled the battlefields, more admired than every statesman who had ever stood before great leaders. He would be more loved than Jesus Christ himself, more respected than Buddha, more revered than Mohammad. But most importantly, he would be the most feared man in all of history. The possibilities were endless once he completed the task at hand. He would show everyone who he really was. He would prove himself to the world’s stage and all would bow to him.
The President realized early on that the formidable task could not be completed without the assistance of outside sources. Allies and friends would be of no use. They would never go along with such a fantastic scheme. They most assuredly would talk, leak information and deadly details about the event. Without a doubt, they would attempt to change his mind, either through diplomacy or warfare. It always came down to survival of the fittest, self-preservation. The friendlies would be hurt nearly as much as the American nation.
Exactly! He thought.
So it was his enemies, he and his followers decided to team up with. It was that old ‘keep your enemies closer’ sort of thing. The deals were made, the terms agreed upon, and the deed was done. The President had to keep the players in the game until it was time to dispense with them.
He picked up the phone and spoke evenly. “Mr. Chairman, it’s good to speak with you again.”
“And to you also, Mr. President,” the Chairman responded through his English interpreter. “I’ve been expecting your call.” Despite the language difference there was a distinct sense of irritation in the Chairman’s tone.
“I wanted to make certain that all was going well before I gave you a report on the situation,” the President said coolly.
“And how well is it going?” the Chinese leader wanted to know, although he had a good sense of the chaos created via his satellite communication feeds. He had a tremendous stake in the mission’s success as well. If this joint undertaking succeeded as planned, he would be ruler for life. If it failed, then he and his country would be doomed.
The President eyed General Wells. Their utter and complete contempt for the Chinese was unmistakable. The President did what he did best. He put on the charm of a true statesman determined to win, and lied to the communist leader. “Your delivery and execution of the explosive device were precise. The EMP forces have spread exactly as predicted. My team and I would like to congratulate you and your unerring forces. You are indeed a great leader.”
The Chairman knew when smoke was being blown up his ass, even through the accurate translation. Patronizing one’s untrustworthy opponent was one of the tools of deception and trickery. The Chinese leader was as good at it, if not better, than his American adversary. “Thank you Mr. President. Much work has gone into this operation by both sides. May I ask? Is the time schedule we agreed on still feasible in order to complete our transaction?”
“I can assure you, Mr. Chairman, within the week we will both have what we want. My people are in full control of every field operation, and we can not foresee any difficulties.”
“That is good news. I too would like to congratulate you on your excellent and swift measures. Although our philosophies may differ, this venture has proven that two divergent peoples can come together for the benefit of all,” the Chairman expressed while grinding his teeth.
The President shook his head. He detested this arrogant, self-righteous, egotistical dictator who at the drop of a hat would take over the United States and kill every single American, despite the temporary economic loss to his empire. Instead, in return for his part in destroying the strongest nation in the world, the Chinese Chairman would have to settle for only half the country.
“I’m sure you still have much to do,” the Chairman said. “I am looking forward to the time when I will have ownership over the western half of your country, particularly California. It will be an invaluable asset for the Chinese people. My forces are prepared to take possession within the week, if your schedule is correct.”
“It is correct,” the President answered, enraged that the Red Dragon would even insinuate the timing was off. “As agreed, Mr. Chairman, you detonated the bomb and I gain full martial law over my half of the country. Fear is always a more powerful weapon. Everything west of the Mississippi will become Chinese territory once we gather the rest of the evacuees and turn the HAARP weather control to a more moderate climate.”
“Please keep me informed and let me know if there should be any difficulties,” the Chairman commented.
This was the opening the President needed. “There is one thing I should mention,” the President said. “We’re having some trouble with
the Russians. Their troops are ignorant, unprofessional barbarians. My men have taken care of many of them on the ground.
But….” He was playing the dictator.
“But what?”
“I’m concerned about the Russian subs along America’s coasts. They are completely unresponsive and our communication with them has been blocked. I suggest that your naval officers be made aware of the potential danger also.”
There was a long pause over the phone line. “The Russians are sneaky bastards and are not to be taken lightly. We will also monitor their fleets and remain on the highest alert against our bordering enemies. Thank you Mr. President for the warning and for your diligence. I hope we will be able to work together as comrades when we are neighbors.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. I will call you again in the next two days.” The President hung up. He smiled at the General. “Neighbors, my ass!”
General Wells grinned. “Work together? Can’t trust anything that son-of-a-bitch says.”
“Never have, never will,” the President added. “Now let’s review our plans on how we’re going to get rid of him and the Russians at the same time.”
Chapter 34
“There’s a book that explains everything?” Cody asked, astonished at the unlikely suggestion.
“Bet ya ass there is,” Raz said. “Officially, it’s called the U.S. Army Field Manual 3-39-40. Printed five or six years ago by the government, but it’s really based on the earlier REX 84 documents. Describes in meticulous details every aspect of internment and resettlement of the American population once the event begins and martial law is in place. I mean, this book has it down ta each light bulb and paper clip. Ya wouldn’t believe what they have planned. If I had ta say so, it’s a god-damn piece of art, but not the good kind. It would impress ya ta high heaven with the amount of work they put inta it, but it would scare the shit outta ya too.”
Treasonous Behavior- in the Beginning Page 22