Post by Doug on Sept 3, 2015 9:35:53 GMT -6
CLEVELAND, OH
“I hereby declare that anyone who blatantly refuses to follow Federal law to be an enemy of the State. As God is my witness, we will restore the rule of law unto this great country again.” The applause that came through the TVs speakers sounded tinny.
Mike put his beer down and stared into it. “Crap, I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” A shout came from across the bar. “Oh, please change the channel of that idiot box! I’m sick of hearing his voice. Put a game on”. He turned his face to look at the source.
Bill McDougal looked back and raising his hands in an open way and said “What? We’ve been hearing the same stupid stuff for years now…I’m sick of it. His term is almost over and the election madness begins again. Regardless of who wins, we’ll end up with the same type of loser who’ll continue to screw us over. I would rather watch a game. Bread and circuses everyone!” He hoisted his beer to which those at his table did the same. Laughter ensued, followed by the slamming of empty bottles on the table.
Mike pulled a rumpled ten dollar bill out of his pocket and tossed it onto the bar next to his half empty beer. “Keep the change Ted, time for me to go home, otherwise the bitch will start getting all worked up.” He always tipped Ted well, as Ted often also gave him beers on the house.
Ted snorted laughter. He knew that the “Bitch” in question was Mikes recently acquired King Sheppard puppy, Tasha. At four months she was already starting to show how big she was going to get and was quite rambunctious to boot. But when Mike and she were together, she never left Mikes side.
As Mike passed Bill he lightly punched him on the shoulder. “Bill, I need my tools back, Tasha trashed the kitchen yesterday.”
Bill blushed and looked at the table top, “Sorry Mike, I keep reminding myself to return them and then I always seem to get side-tracked.”
Mike smiled, “Bill was a good guy even if he was a bit of a scatter brain,” he thought. “I know where you live Bill, besides I have your weed-wacker as a hostage.”
Bill nodded, “I’ll get ‘em to you as soon as I get home, I promise.” Chuckles broke out across the table. “What?! Really, I will, I’m a man of my word.”
As Mike left the bar he could still hear Bill defending his honor amid laughter and good natured jibes. He didn’t notice that the President was still addressing the Nation. Nor was anybody else in the bar paying attention.
Walking home from the bar Mike reflected that the weather was nice for a change. It had been a particularly humid summer, but with fall coming he and Tasha could train together more often. He looked forward to that as the heat drained her. Smiling, he wondered what other shenanigans she had in store for him when he returned. His cell phone vibrated, (he hated ringtones). Pulling it out of his pocket and looking at the caller ID, recognizing it, he smiled as he hadn’t heard from his friend in a while.
“Hey Jake! You old dirtbag…I haven’t heard from ya for quite a while.”
“Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike! Was up buddy!?” Jake Dyson normally sounded upbeat, even hyperactive when he went through this spiel, but this time he sounded deadpan. “How about we hook up at the Thundering Buffalo for some wings and beer this week?”
Mike stopped in his tracks. “Yea, that sounds good. How about Saturday at noon?” He realized that he was still rooted in one spot and resumed walking, but at a faster pace. To an observer, Mike looked like an angry man on a mission, which he was. But Mike wasn’t angry, he was worried.
“No can do, Buddy. But I’m taking a half day Wednesday, but noon works. Will that do or have you found a new job yet? If you haven’t, I think I have one for you.”
“Nope, no new job yet, so yea, I’ll be there.” Mike heard Jake tell him that he’d be there as well, followed by that he had a few more calls to make and hung up. He didn’t say good-bye which was also unlike Jake. “Crap, I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” He thought for the second time in less than an hour.
He was sweating by the time he arrived home. As the garage door opened, he was greeted by the excited yips and moans of a very large puppy. He scratched her behind the ear and opened the rear door to let out the dog so she could do her business in the backyard. She bee lined to the large tree and relieved herself immediately and came running back with a ball in her mouth. He rubbed her head saying, “Sorry buddy, but you’re going to have to content yourself with your toys in the backyard for a bit longer, Dad has to go out again. I’ll be back soon.” She sat down and moaned at him with her head cocked to the side. “Yea, I am worried, now go play,” he said closing the door behind her She immediately starting barking, letting her unhappiness show, or maybe it was a squirrel. Mike got into the truck and pulled out of the driveway.
While driving, Mike pondered the previous conversation with Jake. It didn’t bode well. “Thundering Buffalo” was the code for an immediate call up of his old Reserve unit when he had retired. The rest were a modified code that he and Jake had worked out. “Wings” meant the IceHouse which was a bar & grill where they occasionally met and were known, and “Week” meant immediately. “This can’t be good.” he was thinking over and over and he had to keep reminding himself to stay within the speed limit. He thanked God that he had only had one beer at the local bar.
Upon entering the bar, his ears were assaulted with Toby Keith’s “I Love this Bar” and was immediately greeted by Melissa who gave him a big hug. “Mike! Long time, no see!” she yelled, “The usual?”
Mike grinned at her and put his best Thurston Howell the Third accent on, “But of course lovey, but do tell Kelly to keep the celery and Blue Cheese separate from the wings this time, mustn’t have cross contamination you know. Oh, and one of those fancy Falkensteiners as well.” He looked around the bar, “Have you seen Jake?”
“No, but then again I’ve been busy, he might be out on the patio.” She was scanning the crowd. “Be right with you!” she yelled at a couple of raised hands at the bar. “Do you want me to get him his usual as well?”
“Sure and put it on my tab, cheeseburger with double bacon with a side of chili cheese fries and a tall Miller Lite. If you see him, tell him I’ll be on the patio.”
Melissa grimaced, “That’s a heart attack waiting to happen, and I don’t know how he stays so damn skinny.” Then she smiled at Mike (who thought that it was quite a pretty smile), “And you too you know, you can’t keep eating those hot wings all the time, we do have a menu, much of which is healthier for you. You’re not getting any younger you know?” With that she strutted off to take care of other customers at the bar.
He grinned after her admiring the view, “To bad she’s married”, he thought, followed by a frown, “What does she mean “all the time”? I have hot wings once a month nowadays; they’re my treat to myself.” He smiled again as he was also too much of a realist and knew that if he wasn’t living on a fixed retirement income, he’d be here more often. He stepped out on the patio once again curious as to why Jake had called.
Jake stepped out onto the patio several minutes later accompanied by Major Peter Goodman. Both were in civvies and looked somewhat worried. Maj Goodman was the newest Commander of Mikes old reserve unit and had assumed command right after Mike’s retirement. They knew each other through unit events and were on good speaking terms, but that was about it.
Melissa was following them with the beers. Mike stood and shook hands with the two. “What would you like to drink and eat, Pete? My treat.” Jake offered. Pete smiled and told Melissa that a tall Dortmunder and a Cheeseburger would be just fine. She then disappeared back into the bar.
The three men stared at each other in awkward silence until Mike couldn’t take it anymore. “So guys, what gives?”
Jake and Pete looked at one another, and then Pete spoke in a low voice. “Let’s wait until the beer arrives and I would prefer to move farther back on the patio where there is no crowd.”
Mike raised an eyebrow at that and when the beer arrived Mike told Melissa of their new seating arrangements. When they reseated themselves at the picnic table, he asked, “And once again, what gives?”
Jake looked at Mike. “I’ll let Goodman explain it.” Goodman gave him a “Really?” look, “Um, sorry Sir, I’ll let Major Goodman explain it.”
“We have a situation developing.” Pete said looking at everything and yet nothing.
Mike snorted. “That’s right up there with “Houston, we have a problem”, and what does that have to do with me? I’m not being recalled am I? You know I retired two years ago because I’m getting to old for that crap, right? What’s going on?”
Jake finished a long pull of his draft. “Relax man, you are not being recalled, yet…if at all. There is just some pretty hinky stuff that is going on right now.”
Mike looked Pete in the eyes. “Well, Jake said you’d explain, spill it.” He noticed that Pete seemed to be not necessarily nervous, but rather torn and somewhat annoyed by being spoken to in such a fashion.
Pete sighed and looked as if he had come to a decision. “I’ve been ordered to come up with a Contingency Operations Plan for the company for CONUS operations under NorthCom. I’ve already seen Commands CONOP and it really doesn’t bode well in my opinion.”
Mike intentionally slouched further, but he acknowledged that Pete had his undivided attention. “I thought that mobilizing the Reserves took a suspension of Posse Comititus, not to mention that it is against doctrine to use PSYOP on our own civilians.” Mike knew that was wishful thinking though as he knew the Government would always do what they thought they had to do, regardless of the consequences.
Pete looked disgusted, “When we were redesignated MISO, Joint Doctrine pretty much tossed that out. Oh, there’s still channels that must be gone through, but the higher ups don’t have to jump through those hoops.”
Mike smiled and threw up his hands. “That designator was also one of the smaller reasons I retired. Military Information Support Operations just doesn’t have that bang to it, you know? It sounds like a soup company now. I saw IO taking over PSYOP a long time ago as did many others, but the powers that be just didn’t want to tip the boat and ruin their evals did they?” The subject was a sore spot for Mike.
Pete looked at Jake, “Is he always like this?” He looked back at Mike, “Stay on track man, this isn’t about some flipping designation, it’s a hell of a lot bigger than that. Me and Jake could end up in Leavenworth for we are about to divulge.”
That got Mikes totally undivided attention. “Sorry ‘bout that Pete,” he shrugged and grinned again, “Just trying to feel ya out and see where this is going.”
Jake saw Melissa bringing out their meals and started telling a funny story. After she had left, a definite pall once again came over them.
Mike leaned over the table. “So you’re being mobilized for a CONUS operation? What’s going on?”
Pete swallowed a bite of his burger. “Governors across the States want to mobilize their National Guard and are requesting Federal assistance to help police their cities. There are even Mayors involved as well. And it looks like they’ll get approval. Though the Mayors may be out of luck, who knows? We’ve been tasked to provide Detachments to conduct Information Operations in the Chicago and Detroit area. LA, New York, San Francisco, etc, all are now to be targeted for deployment. Fourth Group will be the lead element throughout every city with the Reserves providing the bulk of manpower.”
Mike felt a shiver down his spine as he already knew the answer, but had to ask anyway. “Why would they want to mobilize the Guard much less ask for Federal assistance? And what about here? Chicago and Michigan have their own companies and Battalions, why can’t they do it?”
“Mike, I see where you’re coming from, and believe me, so does higher. They don’t want local Soldiers patrolling the streets or conducting gun grabs if they can help it. It would be too hard to control the troops involved.”
“Gun grabs? Is this what this is about?” Mike took a deep breath to calm himself. “This is insane.” It did fit with what he had been thinking and talking about with a few close friends in the past few months, and he realized that it went deeper than just that. “Just how far is this going to go though.” He thought.
“No units, even the National Guard, will operate in their local areas. The Reserves and a small portion of Regular Army will provide, Logistics, MISO, Civil Affairs, Medical and MP units to support this op. You’re right though, as this is insane.” Maj Goodman rolled his eyes. “The CONOPs I have seen have the Units pushing the locals buttons, seizing weapons, drug busts, etc, while IO is to conduct operations that tell them we are there to help. It’s a mess. There aren’t riots right now, but I guarantee you that there will be after all is said and done. And it will be messy as we are predicting that up to 25% of the forces involved in the call up will not show.”
Mike was taken aback by the suddenness of it all. “And where do I fit in with all of this?” He didn’t fancy being set up nor thrown into a Federal penitentiary.
Jake spoke up and eyed Maj Goodman, “We think that this is going to get a lot bigger. A fallback plan is in order. We know of quite a few people, some of who you know of as well, that could serve as a cell of sorts if things get out of control.”
“We have a plan.”
The next day...
Mike rose early Sunday morning which was mildly irritating. He had come to think of Sunday as his day of rest. But Jake and Pete had told him to meet them at the VFW Post at 8:00 am. After a quick shower and getting dressed, he poured a cup of coffee and let Tasha out to do her business. “Go pooper-doo Tasha.” The dog bounded straight to the tree and started going in circles snuffling about looking for the perfect spot. Mike chuckled to himself; he found it amusing that after 30 years in the service, he talked to dogs as if they were little kids much of the time.
He sat down and turned on the laptop and started to scan the headlines. As usual, it was filled with what he called Doom Porn (a phrase he had seen elsewhere that took his fancy.) More fiscal problems, the Stock Market going all over the place the past week, shootings and politicians saying idiotic things trying to stir the pot further. The opinion pages weren’t any better so he went to his favorites and read the funnies. He even read his horoscope, which he always found amusing. “Hold your cards close to the vest in the upcoming months as you are entering a grey area in your life.” He chuckled again, “Ya think?” he asked out loud.
He heard a soft bark at the door and let Tasha back into the house. He bent over to scratch her ear, “I gotta go Tasha, but I should be back soon, now be a good girl and watch over the castle.” She proceeded to moan and head butt him in the legs, a habit she had picked up this past week. Mike looked at her and a thought crossed his mind. “She’s worried, maybe I should be too. They say that dogs have an intuitive nature when it comes to danger. Hell, I am worried to the verge of paranoia since that meeting at the IceHouse.” He exited and locked the house, hopped in the truck and pulled out into the street. For the millionth time that week he thought, “This can’t be good.”
As he pulled into the VFW parking lot a half hour later he noticed that it was almost full. He recognized some of the vehicles so he knew that what had had been told to him was true, to an extent. As he entered the Post bar, Paul, the Post Commander greeted him and pointed him to the hall in the back. He locked the door behind him as the Post was technically still closed until noon. “Fashionably late I see.” he said smiling.
“Late? I’m fifteen minutes early!”
“Whateva, come on, the guys are all here. Oh, and leave your cell with me. Don’t worry, lock it, you’ll get it back.”
Mike locked the phone and handed it over. As he entered the hall, he saw quite a few familiar faces. People that he had served with who had left the Reserves and a couple who were still in, there were also former and current National Guard members attending. Some of them were also LEO’s, EMT’s, Firefighters and still even more that he did not recognize. He figured that there had to be at least 40 people gathered. He noticed that a laptop connected to a one –eye projector was pointed at the stage upon which a screen was mounted. Tables and chairs were arranged facing the podium. He only had a minute or two reacquainting himself with a few of the people when Pete Goodman took the stage with Jake following.
Goodman scanned the crowd. “Hell, everyone is here”, he said with a smile, “I wish I could say the same about my unit during Battle Assembly.” That remark drew a soft chuckle from the crowd. Battle Assembly, or Drills as they were still commonly called, always had absences, usually the same individuals. “Please, everybody take a seat and Jake will you fire up the one-eye?”
As Jake turned on the equipment, Goodman addressed the audience. “I have to start off here with stating that what we are about to discuss here could very well land you and me in some seriously hot water. Each of you have all been vouched for by no fewer than five others here in this room, so trust is at stake here. So, before I begin, if anyone has any issue with what I just stated I would ask that you leave now.”
A hand raised in the front row. Goodman pointed at her. “Please stand, identify yourself for the rest of us and state your question.”
The woman stood, “I’m Beth Crabbe, and a current member of the Reserves, what exactly do you mean by “Hot Water, Sir?”
Mike’s paranoia ratcheted up a notch. Beth was also Goodman’s Unit Administrator; he had watched her progress from a Private First Class to Staff Sergeant during his stint. He had also heard that she was soon to be promoted to Sergeant First Class. He knew her to be smart, savvy and no nonsense when the situation required. “If this isn’t scripted, God take me now.” he thought.
Goodman stared at her for a second. “Thank you SGT Crabbe, I will answer your question, but that will be the last one until after the brief.” He looked over the crowd. “What I am about to talk about could be construed as possibly sedition or even treason. The majority of you know what the punishments for those types of charges are. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Just by being here, everyone in this room is at risk.”
A low murmur rumbled through the hall.
“All right, settle down people,” Goodman patted his hands in a downward fashion. “Take a ten minute break and discuss it amongst yourselves and then we will proceed.”
Mike sought out Jake, he grabbed him the arm and said as nonchalantly as possible, “Smoky Treat?”
Jake looked up from the laptop, “Yea, sure, everything is good to go here; I just have to plug in the thumb drive. What’s up?” He got up and followed Mike to the door.
Mike lit up a smoke, and exhaled sharply. “What the hell does he mean by being vouched for? No one asked me any questions about any others.”
“Dude, relax. You were in this from the git-go even though you didn’t know it. There are a few others probably asking the same question.”
“Why do I feel like I’m being thrown into the fire Jake? Why do I feel like I have been signed onto something I never signed onto in the first place?” Mike breathed deeply to keep his anger in check. “I’m retired fer Christ’s sake! I have a life now, and I’m too old to be runnin’ and gunnin’, if what I am hearing is correct.”
Jake shrugged and looked at Mike, “I don’t think you’ll want to miss this, and if I know you, you’ll regret it if you do.”
“What’s Goodman up to?” Mike asked. “All this is sounding pretty sneaky to me. I don’t fancy a prison term…or worse.”
“You’ll see if you’re in. But you have to make a choice now man.” Jake smiled. “It’ll be exciting, maybe even fun…c’mon, it’s time. You in or are you out?”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Mike thought as he followed Jake back into the hall. He looked around and saw that he wasn’t alone in his curiosity as nobody had left. “And we will aaalllll go dooown together,” went through his head remembering the Billy Joel song. He took his seat and once again thought, “This ain’t good.” He directed his attention to the podium on the stage as Maj Goodman walked back out and Jake took a seat behind the laptop.
“Gentlemen, Ladies…I wish I could say that what is said here today cannot leave this room, but since a good chunk of you are now civilians, I can’t.” Goodman threw up his hands in exasperation. “And truth be told, what I am about to tell you does need to be talked about with others, but not immediately, all I ask is that you use your own discretion.”
“I realize that you don’t all know each other, but you are all connected through mutual friends here in this room. Gathered right here we have former and current SF, PSYOP, Civil Affairs, MPs, Engineers, Logistics, Medical, a smattering of Combat MOS’s and some Coast Guard as well, and Admin. Along with Cops, EMTs and Firefighters, most who come from the aforementioned categories’…but not all.”
“Represented within this room is a force to be reckoned with…if it is organized.” A hand shot up from the back of the room. “Please, I will address questions at the end of the briefing…which will be brief.” Goodman smiled at his own humor. “Now let’s get down to the business at hand. First slide Jake.”
“Oh, shit…Death by PowerPoint”, Mike thought, “just one of the small reasons I retired.” But the first slide grabbed his attention right away.
“Governors to declare Martial Law in crime ridden areas.” it stated.
Murmurs and a few chuckles rose again from the crowd. “That’s BS!” said one. “So the SHTF is really happening?” asked another. But for the rest of group, it was deathly quiet.
“Quiet down people, that slide will be in the headlines within two days, trust me on this.” The Governors of California, Illinois, Michigan and New York all want to activate their National Guard and have requested federal assistance from the Feds which has been approved. That is not no lie. Our Governor has not requested such yet, but as far as I have been told, it’s in the works. It’s being orchestrated that he will have no choice but to do so. Second slide.”
A map of the U.S. appeared on the screen. Los Angeles, Chicago, Detroit and New York City were all circled. Goodman waved a laser pointer at each city. “These are the initial cities being targeted, specifically the low income areas where gang activity is highest. The main objective of these operations will be to return order to the communities, but they are going to do it through force. Things like illegal weapons seizures, drug busts, etc. All the high profile stuff that grabs the media attention. They think it will look good on TV.”
“Current Intel believes that once the operation begins, it will result in a mass exodus to other cities where the gangs have contacts. The result is that Martial Law will end up spreading like a virus. I don’t have to tell you that when Infantry units try being Law enforcement, things have a tendency to go bad quickly. And this is what some in DC is counting on. These are the secondary targets, next slide.”
The map now showed at least twenty other cities circled. Most were in states that were not activating their National Guard. Goodman continued, “Things will get heated up within these cities very quickly as people start to freak out and it will only be a short matter of time before those states Guard units are activated as well. The gangs will know that they are being actively hunted and will more than likely start to panic. They’ll scatter to the four winds. This is all part of the plan.”
“But in the meantime, law abiding citizens in the affected cities will also have their firearms confiscated”, Goodman made quotation marks, “For their own good” and will be given receipts so that they may retrieve them after everything has cooled down.”
Goodman gathered himself, “Myself and others across the Nation have been contacted by members within the JCS and other Commands who are quite worried that a major power grab is under way. I won’t say who they are, but they are in positions to see what is actually going on. I too, share their worries and hence have gathered you all here today. I cannot share any more of that issue though right now. Please know that you are not the only group of people who are being exposed to this knowledge. This is nationwide, but it must be kept on the down low for now…until we are organized, if we get that far. Try to think, “Need to know” before you say anything else to anybody. You know the drill.”
“For now, our city is not affected, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be. You saw that we are among the secondaries. It’s only a matter of time. Let’s use that time while we got it. Fourth Slide.”
“Expanding Civil Operations” it said.
“As these operations take place, they will expand into the surrounding towns where your average citizen will take exception to it, which will further fan the flames. And that is where you come into play.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Oh Christ, what have I stepped into?”
WASHINGTON D.C.
Three white Ford vans and four white pickups, two Chevys and the others Ford, all outfitted and marked as various contractor vehicles pulled into traffic. They looked like any contractor vehicle on its way to the jobsite. The men and women inside wore hardhats of a different type but no one would notice as the windows were tinted, and their tools were more lethal as well.
Two of the pickups pulled ahead of the small three government vehicle convoy.
“Seven, this is Six”
“Seven, Go.”
“Block ‘em, and patch me through.”
“Roger.”
Lieutenant Colonel Phelps looked out the vans front window at the trail vehicle. “And so it begins, there ain’t no turning back now.”
The Deputy Assistant to the DOJ, Bill Hamrick, had just turned the page of the WSJ when the limo came to a screeching stop, “What the Hell?” he thought, his adrenaline starting to rush.
Vans and trucks surrounded his convoy of three limos and masked armed men in tactical gear and wearing balaclavas quickly surrounded them. He noticed that there was an AT-4 anti-tank rocket aimed at every vehicle all of whom were at a minimum safety distance. His security team was out numbered. His driver furiously radioed for backup hoping against hope that help would arrive in time.
“Get out! Get out! Out! Out! Out! All of you! Now!” One of the masked men was yelling.
That was then he noticed two DC Police cruisers pull up at each end of the ambush with lights flashing. “Thank God!” he thought, “Somebody is on the ball.” It was then that he noticed that the DCPD was not coming to his rescue, but rather holding back traffic.
“Stay calm and stay put Sir!” the driver yelled unnecessarily, “I’m trying to get backup here!”
“Trying! What the hell do you mean trying?!” the Hamrick yelled. “You incompetent idiots are going to get me killed!”
“Stay calm Sir, We’ll do our best to get you out of this.” The Secret Service agent truly hated this part of the job, protecting people he never fully agreed with, but he also prided himself on keeping his oath.
“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch…this is going to get ugly,” he thought as he drew his sidearm. “Sir, We are being jammed.”
“Jammed?! Jammed?! What the hell do you mean we are being jammed? I thought we had the best…,” That was when he heard the thud against his window and looked up to see a square device suctioned to the window. There was a post-it attached next to it as well. “Get out or die now, your choice. Ten seconds. Think of your kids” it said. The masked man was backing away with a device in his hand. He obviously did not want to get caught in the blast.
Hamrick furiously looked around and all he saw was bystanders filming the scene on their smartphones, no one seemed panicked. “Really?” he thought, “No one will help?”The driver turned around, the worry evident in his face, “Sir, they have our freq…we have eight seconds.”
Hamrick suddenly didn’t like the idea of having others die on his behalf despite of what he may have thought before. “I’m exiting the vehicle, take no action, and let them know.” He hesitated for a second and then yelled, “Now!”
“ Sir…,” the agent stammered.
Hamrick got into the agents face and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “NOW!” At that point he saw an agent exit the lead vehicle with his weapon drawn. The agent got one foot outside the door when his knee exploded in a pink mist and was immediately swarmed by three of the gunmen, two of which were pointing their weapon directly into the interior of the vehicle. The third assailant didn’t waste time and immediately trussed up the agent like a roped steer, regardless of his injuries.
Hamrick stepped out of the limo and observed all of the vehicles occupants being hog-tied with Zip-Strips.
“So much for going out with a bang,” he thought sarcastically. Upon which he then realized that he’d had given the order to surrender.
A masked man appeared seemly out of nowhere. “Deputy Assistant to the DOJ Hamrick?” he inquired.
“Yes, what is the meaning…” His words were cut off as black sackcloth was placed over his head.
LTC Phelps then spoke, “You are under arrest for crimes against the American people and the liberties and freedom that we cherish. You will not be allowed a lawyer or a public court of appeal, you have only yourself and those who you care for to depend upon for your defense. Suffice to say, you’re on your own.” Phelps looked at his troops. “Bag ‘im Boys.”
The whole operation took less than two minutes.
Hamrick felt himself being thrown into a van which took off before he even landed in a pile. He then felt a knee across his chest and his right arm yanked rigid. Before he could protest, he felt a prick and his world went black.
Upon reentering traffic the vans and trucks all took different routes, though sirens sounded from all corners. The two DCPD cars called in false reports to misdirect the real DCPD from the van with Hamrick. Whenever one of the vehicles went under an overpass, three replicas exited the overpass and each took different exits and routes to spoof any possible surveillance.
As the van that LTC Phelps was riding in pulled into a nondescript home in Georgetown he breathed a sigh of relief. “Put him in the Camry, be ready to move in twenty.” He thought that this plan just may work.
John Hopkins Hospital
Secret Service Agent Givens slowly woke. At first he could only hear muffled unintelligible sounds, but they eventually coalesced into discernible speech. He could feel a throb in his right knee, but for some reason it did not hurt. “That’s odd.” He thought to himself, “What happened?”
“How much longer till he wakes Doc?” A female voice said.
“He should be waking soon, an hour or two maybe…Ah, his eyes are open.” A face came into Givens view. “How do you feel Agent Givens, can you move your toes for me?”
As if his feet had a mind of their own, his toes wiggled. “Good, good”, the face said. “Agent Givens, you’ve been shot and we have had to do some reconstructive surgery on your knee, you are a very lucky man. Do you understand?”
“Gah…” he gurgled. His tongue seemed disconnected from his brain.
“Water!” Face number one exclaimed. A familiar face appeared holding a cup of crushed ice and water pushed the straw into his lips. “Jay-Jay”, he thought, “she’s always there…like a cold that won’t go away.”
Agent Julia Johnston looked into her superiors face with concern. “Slowly boss, sip, don’t drink.”
Givens sucked greedily on the straw feeling the cold refreshing water his body craved. Suddenly a wave of nausea overtook him and he coughed a mouthful of water into Johnston’s face.
After the coughing fit passed, he looked up at his subordinate. “Ugh, Sorry about that Jay-Jay.” he croaked. “Wha?...What happened?, Is “Boston” OK?’ “Boston” was the ADDOJ’s call sign referring to his college days.
Agent Johnston was wiping her face with her sleeve. “Doctor, I need the room for a minute.” The doctor started to object and then realized what was going on. The less he knew the better off he was. “I’ll make sure that no one enters…but no more than five minutes, he is in the recovery room after all.” He closed the door behind him.
Johnston crossed her arms and started to pace furiously back and forth. “That asswipe Hamrick surrendered! He could have gotten all of us killed!” she hissed, “He stepped out before anybody could react…he gave himself up without a fight.”
Givens shoved the fear into the back of his mind. “How many casualties?”
“Just you and that’s what we don’t get Sir. They disarmed us in no time…hell, we were outnumbered anyway, and they just threw Hamrick into the back of a van and took off, no one else was shot.” She threw up her arms in disgust, “And we let them. I don’t think that they are your average terrorist…I think that they’re ours. And they are very good and seem to be well funded as well.”
Givens tried to ignore the pain in his knee. “What makes you say that?”
Johnston looked him in the eye and stately bluntly, “They had state of the art communications and weaponry, they moved as a team and everyone knew their place and position. It’s obvious that these guys had practiced this many times and as I said before, they’re very good. They knew when and where we were going and had their timing down to a tee. Also I didn’t hear one foreign accent when they were trussing us up. I think that this is an inside job.” Jay-Jay looked worried, “Boss, I think we may have traitors in our midst. This could be one of those Lone-Wolf attacks that we’ve been briefing.”
Givens started laughing as the anesthesia hadn’t completely worn off. “Lone Wolf!? Sounds like a pack of wolves to me. Have any demands been set?” He took a sip of more ice water which went down his throat like a cool salve. “Has anyone declared credit?”
“Later, Boss…after the anesthesia wears off you will be fully briefed. We’re working it now and running down all leads and Intel that everyone is throwing at us at the moment. The White House is going ballistic over this.” Johnston looked worried. “I hate to say this, but my gut instinct says this is just the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“A Coup, Boss. I think that if this gains traction, and it’s all over the news right now, we could very well be looking at the overthrow of the US Government. Maybe even the Pentagon is behind it.”
“The Pentagon? Hell, most of their leadership has been replaced by this Admin and they are loyal to them.”
“We realize that Boss, and we’re looking at the lower levels of leadership. They may be undermining their own higher ups. Lord knows that there is no love lost among those guys there. It’s just like our job, there are people always jockeying for a better position and paycheck.” Johnston looked at Givens with a concerned look in her face. “I hate to say this Boss, but I have overheard others within our ranks saying that this is a good thing. That this is needed to wake people up.”
“Ugh, you’re right. I need to let this stuff wear off. That way I can remember it all and look into this more.” Givens giggled. “Are my toes moving?”
Johnston stuck the straw back into Givens mouth. “Yes Boss, they’re wiggling just fine.”
Novelty, Ohio
The Camry pulled up to the horse farm at 2am. Phelps looked at his co-driver, “Give me a hand getting him outta the trunk and into the basement will ya?”
“You think he’s still alive Sir after all that driving cooped up back there?” MSG (RET) Miller asked.
“Oh yea, I’m sure he’s still alive, just stoned to the bone.” He chuckled.
As Phelps stuck the key into the lock, Miller said, “Ya know, I’m not sure I signed up for the right thing here Sir. This is treason.”
“No cold feet Miller, you’re in it neck deep now and there ain’t no going back. Besides, you came to us. Remember? You were bored after you retired. Are ya excited now?”
“Yer an asshole Sir!” Miller quipped and reached in the trunk.
Phelps laughed, “Well, I’d hate to disappoint ya. Now give me a hand.”
“I hereby declare that anyone who blatantly refuses to follow Federal law to be an enemy of the State. As God is my witness, we will restore the rule of law unto this great country again.” The applause that came through the TVs speakers sounded tinny.
Mike put his beer down and stared into it. “Crap, I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” A shout came from across the bar. “Oh, please change the channel of that idiot box! I’m sick of hearing his voice. Put a game on”. He turned his face to look at the source.
Bill McDougal looked back and raising his hands in an open way and said “What? We’ve been hearing the same stupid stuff for years now…I’m sick of it. His term is almost over and the election madness begins again. Regardless of who wins, we’ll end up with the same type of loser who’ll continue to screw us over. I would rather watch a game. Bread and circuses everyone!” He hoisted his beer to which those at his table did the same. Laughter ensued, followed by the slamming of empty bottles on the table.
Mike pulled a rumpled ten dollar bill out of his pocket and tossed it onto the bar next to his half empty beer. “Keep the change Ted, time for me to go home, otherwise the bitch will start getting all worked up.” He always tipped Ted well, as Ted often also gave him beers on the house.
Ted snorted laughter. He knew that the “Bitch” in question was Mikes recently acquired King Sheppard puppy, Tasha. At four months she was already starting to show how big she was going to get and was quite rambunctious to boot. But when Mike and she were together, she never left Mikes side.
As Mike passed Bill he lightly punched him on the shoulder. “Bill, I need my tools back, Tasha trashed the kitchen yesterday.”
Bill blushed and looked at the table top, “Sorry Mike, I keep reminding myself to return them and then I always seem to get side-tracked.”
Mike smiled, “Bill was a good guy even if he was a bit of a scatter brain,” he thought. “I know where you live Bill, besides I have your weed-wacker as a hostage.”
Bill nodded, “I’ll get ‘em to you as soon as I get home, I promise.” Chuckles broke out across the table. “What?! Really, I will, I’m a man of my word.”
As Mike left the bar he could still hear Bill defending his honor amid laughter and good natured jibes. He didn’t notice that the President was still addressing the Nation. Nor was anybody else in the bar paying attention.
Walking home from the bar Mike reflected that the weather was nice for a change. It had been a particularly humid summer, but with fall coming he and Tasha could train together more often. He looked forward to that as the heat drained her. Smiling, he wondered what other shenanigans she had in store for him when he returned. His cell phone vibrated, (he hated ringtones). Pulling it out of his pocket and looking at the caller ID, recognizing it, he smiled as he hadn’t heard from his friend in a while.
“Hey Jake! You old dirtbag…I haven’t heard from ya for quite a while.”
“Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike! Was up buddy!?” Jake Dyson normally sounded upbeat, even hyperactive when he went through this spiel, but this time he sounded deadpan. “How about we hook up at the Thundering Buffalo for some wings and beer this week?”
Mike stopped in his tracks. “Yea, that sounds good. How about Saturday at noon?” He realized that he was still rooted in one spot and resumed walking, but at a faster pace. To an observer, Mike looked like an angry man on a mission, which he was. But Mike wasn’t angry, he was worried.
“No can do, Buddy. But I’m taking a half day Wednesday, but noon works. Will that do or have you found a new job yet? If you haven’t, I think I have one for you.”
“Nope, no new job yet, so yea, I’ll be there.” Mike heard Jake tell him that he’d be there as well, followed by that he had a few more calls to make and hung up. He didn’t say good-bye which was also unlike Jake. “Crap, I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” He thought for the second time in less than an hour.
He was sweating by the time he arrived home. As the garage door opened, he was greeted by the excited yips and moans of a very large puppy. He scratched her behind the ear and opened the rear door to let out the dog so she could do her business in the backyard. She bee lined to the large tree and relieved herself immediately and came running back with a ball in her mouth. He rubbed her head saying, “Sorry buddy, but you’re going to have to content yourself with your toys in the backyard for a bit longer, Dad has to go out again. I’ll be back soon.” She sat down and moaned at him with her head cocked to the side. “Yea, I am worried, now go play,” he said closing the door behind her She immediately starting barking, letting her unhappiness show, or maybe it was a squirrel. Mike got into the truck and pulled out of the driveway.
While driving, Mike pondered the previous conversation with Jake. It didn’t bode well. “Thundering Buffalo” was the code for an immediate call up of his old Reserve unit when he had retired. The rest were a modified code that he and Jake had worked out. “Wings” meant the IceHouse which was a bar & grill where they occasionally met and were known, and “Week” meant immediately. “This can’t be good.” he was thinking over and over and he had to keep reminding himself to stay within the speed limit. He thanked God that he had only had one beer at the local bar.
Upon entering the bar, his ears were assaulted with Toby Keith’s “I Love this Bar” and was immediately greeted by Melissa who gave him a big hug. “Mike! Long time, no see!” she yelled, “The usual?”
Mike grinned at her and put his best Thurston Howell the Third accent on, “But of course lovey, but do tell Kelly to keep the celery and Blue Cheese separate from the wings this time, mustn’t have cross contamination you know. Oh, and one of those fancy Falkensteiners as well.” He looked around the bar, “Have you seen Jake?”
“No, but then again I’ve been busy, he might be out on the patio.” She was scanning the crowd. “Be right with you!” she yelled at a couple of raised hands at the bar. “Do you want me to get him his usual as well?”
“Sure and put it on my tab, cheeseburger with double bacon with a side of chili cheese fries and a tall Miller Lite. If you see him, tell him I’ll be on the patio.”
Melissa grimaced, “That’s a heart attack waiting to happen, and I don’t know how he stays so damn skinny.” Then she smiled at Mike (who thought that it was quite a pretty smile), “And you too you know, you can’t keep eating those hot wings all the time, we do have a menu, much of which is healthier for you. You’re not getting any younger you know?” With that she strutted off to take care of other customers at the bar.
He grinned after her admiring the view, “To bad she’s married”, he thought, followed by a frown, “What does she mean “all the time”? I have hot wings once a month nowadays; they’re my treat to myself.” He smiled again as he was also too much of a realist and knew that if he wasn’t living on a fixed retirement income, he’d be here more often. He stepped out on the patio once again curious as to why Jake had called.
Jake stepped out onto the patio several minutes later accompanied by Major Peter Goodman. Both were in civvies and looked somewhat worried. Maj Goodman was the newest Commander of Mikes old reserve unit and had assumed command right after Mike’s retirement. They knew each other through unit events and were on good speaking terms, but that was about it.
Melissa was following them with the beers. Mike stood and shook hands with the two. “What would you like to drink and eat, Pete? My treat.” Jake offered. Pete smiled and told Melissa that a tall Dortmunder and a Cheeseburger would be just fine. She then disappeared back into the bar.
The three men stared at each other in awkward silence until Mike couldn’t take it anymore. “So guys, what gives?”
Jake and Pete looked at one another, and then Pete spoke in a low voice. “Let’s wait until the beer arrives and I would prefer to move farther back on the patio where there is no crowd.”
Mike raised an eyebrow at that and when the beer arrived Mike told Melissa of their new seating arrangements. When they reseated themselves at the picnic table, he asked, “And once again, what gives?”
Jake looked at Mike. “I’ll let Goodman explain it.” Goodman gave him a “Really?” look, “Um, sorry Sir, I’ll let Major Goodman explain it.”
“We have a situation developing.” Pete said looking at everything and yet nothing.
Mike snorted. “That’s right up there with “Houston, we have a problem”, and what does that have to do with me? I’m not being recalled am I? You know I retired two years ago because I’m getting to old for that crap, right? What’s going on?”
Jake finished a long pull of his draft. “Relax man, you are not being recalled, yet…if at all. There is just some pretty hinky stuff that is going on right now.”
Mike looked Pete in the eyes. “Well, Jake said you’d explain, spill it.” He noticed that Pete seemed to be not necessarily nervous, but rather torn and somewhat annoyed by being spoken to in such a fashion.
Pete sighed and looked as if he had come to a decision. “I’ve been ordered to come up with a Contingency Operations Plan for the company for CONUS operations under NorthCom. I’ve already seen Commands CONOP and it really doesn’t bode well in my opinion.”
Mike intentionally slouched further, but he acknowledged that Pete had his undivided attention. “I thought that mobilizing the Reserves took a suspension of Posse Comititus, not to mention that it is against doctrine to use PSYOP on our own civilians.” Mike knew that was wishful thinking though as he knew the Government would always do what they thought they had to do, regardless of the consequences.
Pete looked disgusted, “When we were redesignated MISO, Joint Doctrine pretty much tossed that out. Oh, there’s still channels that must be gone through, but the higher ups don’t have to jump through those hoops.”
Mike smiled and threw up his hands. “That designator was also one of the smaller reasons I retired. Military Information Support Operations just doesn’t have that bang to it, you know? It sounds like a soup company now. I saw IO taking over PSYOP a long time ago as did many others, but the powers that be just didn’t want to tip the boat and ruin their evals did they?” The subject was a sore spot for Mike.
Pete looked at Jake, “Is he always like this?” He looked back at Mike, “Stay on track man, this isn’t about some flipping designation, it’s a hell of a lot bigger than that. Me and Jake could end up in Leavenworth for we are about to divulge.”
That got Mikes totally undivided attention. “Sorry ‘bout that Pete,” he shrugged and grinned again, “Just trying to feel ya out and see where this is going.”
Jake saw Melissa bringing out their meals and started telling a funny story. After she had left, a definite pall once again came over them.
Mike leaned over the table. “So you’re being mobilized for a CONUS operation? What’s going on?”
Pete swallowed a bite of his burger. “Governors across the States want to mobilize their National Guard and are requesting Federal assistance to help police their cities. There are even Mayors involved as well. And it looks like they’ll get approval. Though the Mayors may be out of luck, who knows? We’ve been tasked to provide Detachments to conduct Information Operations in the Chicago and Detroit area. LA, New York, San Francisco, etc, all are now to be targeted for deployment. Fourth Group will be the lead element throughout every city with the Reserves providing the bulk of manpower.”
Mike felt a shiver down his spine as he already knew the answer, but had to ask anyway. “Why would they want to mobilize the Guard much less ask for Federal assistance? And what about here? Chicago and Michigan have their own companies and Battalions, why can’t they do it?”
“Mike, I see where you’re coming from, and believe me, so does higher. They don’t want local Soldiers patrolling the streets or conducting gun grabs if they can help it. It would be too hard to control the troops involved.”
“Gun grabs? Is this what this is about?” Mike took a deep breath to calm himself. “This is insane.” It did fit with what he had been thinking and talking about with a few close friends in the past few months, and he realized that it went deeper than just that. “Just how far is this going to go though.” He thought.
“No units, even the National Guard, will operate in their local areas. The Reserves and a small portion of Regular Army will provide, Logistics, MISO, Civil Affairs, Medical and MP units to support this op. You’re right though, as this is insane.” Maj Goodman rolled his eyes. “The CONOPs I have seen have the Units pushing the locals buttons, seizing weapons, drug busts, etc, while IO is to conduct operations that tell them we are there to help. It’s a mess. There aren’t riots right now, but I guarantee you that there will be after all is said and done. And it will be messy as we are predicting that up to 25% of the forces involved in the call up will not show.”
Mike was taken aback by the suddenness of it all. “And where do I fit in with all of this?” He didn’t fancy being set up nor thrown into a Federal penitentiary.
Jake spoke up and eyed Maj Goodman, “We think that this is going to get a lot bigger. A fallback plan is in order. We know of quite a few people, some of who you know of as well, that could serve as a cell of sorts if things get out of control.”
“We have a plan.”
The next day...
Mike rose early Sunday morning which was mildly irritating. He had come to think of Sunday as his day of rest. But Jake and Pete had told him to meet them at the VFW Post at 8:00 am. After a quick shower and getting dressed, he poured a cup of coffee and let Tasha out to do her business. “Go pooper-doo Tasha.” The dog bounded straight to the tree and started going in circles snuffling about looking for the perfect spot. Mike chuckled to himself; he found it amusing that after 30 years in the service, he talked to dogs as if they were little kids much of the time.
He sat down and turned on the laptop and started to scan the headlines. As usual, it was filled with what he called Doom Porn (a phrase he had seen elsewhere that took his fancy.) More fiscal problems, the Stock Market going all over the place the past week, shootings and politicians saying idiotic things trying to stir the pot further. The opinion pages weren’t any better so he went to his favorites and read the funnies. He even read his horoscope, which he always found amusing. “Hold your cards close to the vest in the upcoming months as you are entering a grey area in your life.” He chuckled again, “Ya think?” he asked out loud.
He heard a soft bark at the door and let Tasha back into the house. He bent over to scratch her ear, “I gotta go Tasha, but I should be back soon, now be a good girl and watch over the castle.” She proceeded to moan and head butt him in the legs, a habit she had picked up this past week. Mike looked at her and a thought crossed his mind. “She’s worried, maybe I should be too. They say that dogs have an intuitive nature when it comes to danger. Hell, I am worried to the verge of paranoia since that meeting at the IceHouse.” He exited and locked the house, hopped in the truck and pulled out into the street. For the millionth time that week he thought, “This can’t be good.”
As he pulled into the VFW parking lot a half hour later he noticed that it was almost full. He recognized some of the vehicles so he knew that what had had been told to him was true, to an extent. As he entered the Post bar, Paul, the Post Commander greeted him and pointed him to the hall in the back. He locked the door behind him as the Post was technically still closed until noon. “Fashionably late I see.” he said smiling.
“Late? I’m fifteen minutes early!”
“Whateva, come on, the guys are all here. Oh, and leave your cell with me. Don’t worry, lock it, you’ll get it back.”
Mike locked the phone and handed it over. As he entered the hall, he saw quite a few familiar faces. People that he had served with who had left the Reserves and a couple who were still in, there were also former and current National Guard members attending. Some of them were also LEO’s, EMT’s, Firefighters and still even more that he did not recognize. He figured that there had to be at least 40 people gathered. He noticed that a laptop connected to a one –eye projector was pointed at the stage upon which a screen was mounted. Tables and chairs were arranged facing the podium. He only had a minute or two reacquainting himself with a few of the people when Pete Goodman took the stage with Jake following.
Goodman scanned the crowd. “Hell, everyone is here”, he said with a smile, “I wish I could say the same about my unit during Battle Assembly.” That remark drew a soft chuckle from the crowd. Battle Assembly, or Drills as they were still commonly called, always had absences, usually the same individuals. “Please, everybody take a seat and Jake will you fire up the one-eye?”
As Jake turned on the equipment, Goodman addressed the audience. “I have to start off here with stating that what we are about to discuss here could very well land you and me in some seriously hot water. Each of you have all been vouched for by no fewer than five others here in this room, so trust is at stake here. So, before I begin, if anyone has any issue with what I just stated I would ask that you leave now.”
A hand raised in the front row. Goodman pointed at her. “Please stand, identify yourself for the rest of us and state your question.”
The woman stood, “I’m Beth Crabbe, and a current member of the Reserves, what exactly do you mean by “Hot Water, Sir?”
Mike’s paranoia ratcheted up a notch. Beth was also Goodman’s Unit Administrator; he had watched her progress from a Private First Class to Staff Sergeant during his stint. He had also heard that she was soon to be promoted to Sergeant First Class. He knew her to be smart, savvy and no nonsense when the situation required. “If this isn’t scripted, God take me now.” he thought.
Goodman stared at her for a second. “Thank you SGT Crabbe, I will answer your question, but that will be the last one until after the brief.” He looked over the crowd. “What I am about to talk about could be construed as possibly sedition or even treason. The majority of you know what the punishments for those types of charges are. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Just by being here, everyone in this room is at risk.”
A low murmur rumbled through the hall.
“All right, settle down people,” Goodman patted his hands in a downward fashion. “Take a ten minute break and discuss it amongst yourselves and then we will proceed.”
Mike sought out Jake, he grabbed him the arm and said as nonchalantly as possible, “Smoky Treat?”
Jake looked up from the laptop, “Yea, sure, everything is good to go here; I just have to plug in the thumb drive. What’s up?” He got up and followed Mike to the door.
Mike lit up a smoke, and exhaled sharply. “What the hell does he mean by being vouched for? No one asked me any questions about any others.”
“Dude, relax. You were in this from the git-go even though you didn’t know it. There are a few others probably asking the same question.”
“Why do I feel like I’m being thrown into the fire Jake? Why do I feel like I have been signed onto something I never signed onto in the first place?” Mike breathed deeply to keep his anger in check. “I’m retired fer Christ’s sake! I have a life now, and I’m too old to be runnin’ and gunnin’, if what I am hearing is correct.”
Jake shrugged and looked at Mike, “I don’t think you’ll want to miss this, and if I know you, you’ll regret it if you do.”
“What’s Goodman up to?” Mike asked. “All this is sounding pretty sneaky to me. I don’t fancy a prison term…or worse.”
“You’ll see if you’re in. But you have to make a choice now man.” Jake smiled. “It’ll be exciting, maybe even fun…c’mon, it’s time. You in or are you out?”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Mike thought as he followed Jake back into the hall. He looked around and saw that he wasn’t alone in his curiosity as nobody had left. “And we will aaalllll go dooown together,” went through his head remembering the Billy Joel song. He took his seat and once again thought, “This ain’t good.” He directed his attention to the podium on the stage as Maj Goodman walked back out and Jake took a seat behind the laptop.
“Gentlemen, Ladies…I wish I could say that what is said here today cannot leave this room, but since a good chunk of you are now civilians, I can’t.” Goodman threw up his hands in exasperation. “And truth be told, what I am about to tell you does need to be talked about with others, but not immediately, all I ask is that you use your own discretion.”
“I realize that you don’t all know each other, but you are all connected through mutual friends here in this room. Gathered right here we have former and current SF, PSYOP, Civil Affairs, MPs, Engineers, Logistics, Medical, a smattering of Combat MOS’s and some Coast Guard as well, and Admin. Along with Cops, EMTs and Firefighters, most who come from the aforementioned categories’…but not all.”
“Represented within this room is a force to be reckoned with…if it is organized.” A hand shot up from the back of the room. “Please, I will address questions at the end of the briefing…which will be brief.” Goodman smiled at his own humor. “Now let’s get down to the business at hand. First slide Jake.”
“Oh, shit…Death by PowerPoint”, Mike thought, “just one of the small reasons I retired.” But the first slide grabbed his attention right away.
“Governors to declare Martial Law in crime ridden areas.” it stated.
Murmurs and a few chuckles rose again from the crowd. “That’s BS!” said one. “So the SHTF is really happening?” asked another. But for the rest of group, it was deathly quiet.
“Quiet down people, that slide will be in the headlines within two days, trust me on this.” The Governors of California, Illinois, Michigan and New York all want to activate their National Guard and have requested federal assistance from the Feds which has been approved. That is not no lie. Our Governor has not requested such yet, but as far as I have been told, it’s in the works. It’s being orchestrated that he will have no choice but to do so. Second slide.”
A map of the U.S. appeared on the screen. Los Angeles, Chicago, Detroit and New York City were all circled. Goodman waved a laser pointer at each city. “These are the initial cities being targeted, specifically the low income areas where gang activity is highest. The main objective of these operations will be to return order to the communities, but they are going to do it through force. Things like illegal weapons seizures, drug busts, etc. All the high profile stuff that grabs the media attention. They think it will look good on TV.”
“Current Intel believes that once the operation begins, it will result in a mass exodus to other cities where the gangs have contacts. The result is that Martial Law will end up spreading like a virus. I don’t have to tell you that when Infantry units try being Law enforcement, things have a tendency to go bad quickly. And this is what some in DC is counting on. These are the secondary targets, next slide.”
The map now showed at least twenty other cities circled. Most were in states that were not activating their National Guard. Goodman continued, “Things will get heated up within these cities very quickly as people start to freak out and it will only be a short matter of time before those states Guard units are activated as well. The gangs will know that they are being actively hunted and will more than likely start to panic. They’ll scatter to the four winds. This is all part of the plan.”
“But in the meantime, law abiding citizens in the affected cities will also have their firearms confiscated”, Goodman made quotation marks, “For their own good” and will be given receipts so that they may retrieve them after everything has cooled down.”
Goodman gathered himself, “Myself and others across the Nation have been contacted by members within the JCS and other Commands who are quite worried that a major power grab is under way. I won’t say who they are, but they are in positions to see what is actually going on. I too, share their worries and hence have gathered you all here today. I cannot share any more of that issue though right now. Please know that you are not the only group of people who are being exposed to this knowledge. This is nationwide, but it must be kept on the down low for now…until we are organized, if we get that far. Try to think, “Need to know” before you say anything else to anybody. You know the drill.”
“For now, our city is not affected, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be. You saw that we are among the secondaries. It’s only a matter of time. Let’s use that time while we got it. Fourth Slide.”
“Expanding Civil Operations” it said.
“As these operations take place, they will expand into the surrounding towns where your average citizen will take exception to it, which will further fan the flames. And that is where you come into play.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Oh Christ, what have I stepped into?”
WASHINGTON D.C.
Three white Ford vans and four white pickups, two Chevys and the others Ford, all outfitted and marked as various contractor vehicles pulled into traffic. They looked like any contractor vehicle on its way to the jobsite. The men and women inside wore hardhats of a different type but no one would notice as the windows were tinted, and their tools were more lethal as well.
Two of the pickups pulled ahead of the small three government vehicle convoy.
“Seven, this is Six”
“Seven, Go.”
“Block ‘em, and patch me through.”
“Roger.”
Lieutenant Colonel Phelps looked out the vans front window at the trail vehicle. “And so it begins, there ain’t no turning back now.”
The Deputy Assistant to the DOJ, Bill Hamrick, had just turned the page of the WSJ when the limo came to a screeching stop, “What the Hell?” he thought, his adrenaline starting to rush.
Vans and trucks surrounded his convoy of three limos and masked armed men in tactical gear and wearing balaclavas quickly surrounded them. He noticed that there was an AT-4 anti-tank rocket aimed at every vehicle all of whom were at a minimum safety distance. His security team was out numbered. His driver furiously radioed for backup hoping against hope that help would arrive in time.
“Get out! Get out! Out! Out! Out! All of you! Now!” One of the masked men was yelling.
That was then he noticed two DC Police cruisers pull up at each end of the ambush with lights flashing. “Thank God!” he thought, “Somebody is on the ball.” It was then that he noticed that the DCPD was not coming to his rescue, but rather holding back traffic.
“Stay calm and stay put Sir!” the driver yelled unnecessarily, “I’m trying to get backup here!”
“Trying! What the hell do you mean trying?!” the Hamrick yelled. “You incompetent idiots are going to get me killed!”
“Stay calm Sir, We’ll do our best to get you out of this.” The Secret Service agent truly hated this part of the job, protecting people he never fully agreed with, but he also prided himself on keeping his oath.
“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch…this is going to get ugly,” he thought as he drew his sidearm. “Sir, We are being jammed.”
“Jammed?! Jammed?! What the hell do you mean we are being jammed? I thought we had the best…,” That was when he heard the thud against his window and looked up to see a square device suctioned to the window. There was a post-it attached next to it as well. “Get out or die now, your choice. Ten seconds. Think of your kids” it said. The masked man was backing away with a device in his hand. He obviously did not want to get caught in the blast.
Hamrick furiously looked around and all he saw was bystanders filming the scene on their smartphones, no one seemed panicked. “Really?” he thought, “No one will help?”The driver turned around, the worry evident in his face, “Sir, they have our freq…we have eight seconds.”
Hamrick suddenly didn’t like the idea of having others die on his behalf despite of what he may have thought before. “I’m exiting the vehicle, take no action, and let them know.” He hesitated for a second and then yelled, “Now!”
“ Sir…,” the agent stammered.
Hamrick got into the agents face and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “NOW!” At that point he saw an agent exit the lead vehicle with his weapon drawn. The agent got one foot outside the door when his knee exploded in a pink mist and was immediately swarmed by three of the gunmen, two of which were pointing their weapon directly into the interior of the vehicle. The third assailant didn’t waste time and immediately trussed up the agent like a roped steer, regardless of his injuries.
Hamrick stepped out of the limo and observed all of the vehicles occupants being hog-tied with Zip-Strips.
“So much for going out with a bang,” he thought sarcastically. Upon which he then realized that he’d had given the order to surrender.
A masked man appeared seemly out of nowhere. “Deputy Assistant to the DOJ Hamrick?” he inquired.
“Yes, what is the meaning…” His words were cut off as black sackcloth was placed over his head.
LTC Phelps then spoke, “You are under arrest for crimes against the American people and the liberties and freedom that we cherish. You will not be allowed a lawyer or a public court of appeal, you have only yourself and those who you care for to depend upon for your defense. Suffice to say, you’re on your own.” Phelps looked at his troops. “Bag ‘im Boys.”
The whole operation took less than two minutes.
Hamrick felt himself being thrown into a van which took off before he even landed in a pile. He then felt a knee across his chest and his right arm yanked rigid. Before he could protest, he felt a prick and his world went black.
Upon reentering traffic the vans and trucks all took different routes, though sirens sounded from all corners. The two DCPD cars called in false reports to misdirect the real DCPD from the van with Hamrick. Whenever one of the vehicles went under an overpass, three replicas exited the overpass and each took different exits and routes to spoof any possible surveillance.
As the van that LTC Phelps was riding in pulled into a nondescript home in Georgetown he breathed a sigh of relief. “Put him in the Camry, be ready to move in twenty.” He thought that this plan just may work.
John Hopkins Hospital
Secret Service Agent Givens slowly woke. At first he could only hear muffled unintelligible sounds, but they eventually coalesced into discernible speech. He could feel a throb in his right knee, but for some reason it did not hurt. “That’s odd.” He thought to himself, “What happened?”
“How much longer till he wakes Doc?” A female voice said.
“He should be waking soon, an hour or two maybe…Ah, his eyes are open.” A face came into Givens view. “How do you feel Agent Givens, can you move your toes for me?”
As if his feet had a mind of their own, his toes wiggled. “Good, good”, the face said. “Agent Givens, you’ve been shot and we have had to do some reconstructive surgery on your knee, you are a very lucky man. Do you understand?”
“Gah…” he gurgled. His tongue seemed disconnected from his brain.
“Water!” Face number one exclaimed. A familiar face appeared holding a cup of crushed ice and water pushed the straw into his lips. “Jay-Jay”, he thought, “she’s always there…like a cold that won’t go away.”
Agent Julia Johnston looked into her superiors face with concern. “Slowly boss, sip, don’t drink.”
Givens sucked greedily on the straw feeling the cold refreshing water his body craved. Suddenly a wave of nausea overtook him and he coughed a mouthful of water into Johnston’s face.
After the coughing fit passed, he looked up at his subordinate. “Ugh, Sorry about that Jay-Jay.” he croaked. “Wha?...What happened?, Is “Boston” OK?’ “Boston” was the ADDOJ’s call sign referring to his college days.
Agent Johnston was wiping her face with her sleeve. “Doctor, I need the room for a minute.” The doctor started to object and then realized what was going on. The less he knew the better off he was. “I’ll make sure that no one enters…but no more than five minutes, he is in the recovery room after all.” He closed the door behind him.
Johnston crossed her arms and started to pace furiously back and forth. “That asswipe Hamrick surrendered! He could have gotten all of us killed!” she hissed, “He stepped out before anybody could react…he gave himself up without a fight.”
Givens shoved the fear into the back of his mind. “How many casualties?”
“Just you and that’s what we don’t get Sir. They disarmed us in no time…hell, we were outnumbered anyway, and they just threw Hamrick into the back of a van and took off, no one else was shot.” She threw up her arms in disgust, “And we let them. I don’t think that they are your average terrorist…I think that they’re ours. And they are very good and seem to be well funded as well.”
Givens tried to ignore the pain in his knee. “What makes you say that?”
Johnston looked him in the eye and stately bluntly, “They had state of the art communications and weaponry, they moved as a team and everyone knew their place and position. It’s obvious that these guys had practiced this many times and as I said before, they’re very good. They knew when and where we were going and had their timing down to a tee. Also I didn’t hear one foreign accent when they were trussing us up. I think that this is an inside job.” Jay-Jay looked worried, “Boss, I think we may have traitors in our midst. This could be one of those Lone-Wolf attacks that we’ve been briefing.”
Givens started laughing as the anesthesia hadn’t completely worn off. “Lone Wolf!? Sounds like a pack of wolves to me. Have any demands been set?” He took a sip of more ice water which went down his throat like a cool salve. “Has anyone declared credit?”
“Later, Boss…after the anesthesia wears off you will be fully briefed. We’re working it now and running down all leads and Intel that everyone is throwing at us at the moment. The White House is going ballistic over this.” Johnston looked worried. “I hate to say this, but my gut instinct says this is just the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“A Coup, Boss. I think that if this gains traction, and it’s all over the news right now, we could very well be looking at the overthrow of the US Government. Maybe even the Pentagon is behind it.”
“The Pentagon? Hell, most of their leadership has been replaced by this Admin and they are loyal to them.”
“We realize that Boss, and we’re looking at the lower levels of leadership. They may be undermining their own higher ups. Lord knows that there is no love lost among those guys there. It’s just like our job, there are people always jockeying for a better position and paycheck.” Johnston looked at Givens with a concerned look in her face. “I hate to say this Boss, but I have overheard others within our ranks saying that this is a good thing. That this is needed to wake people up.”
“Ugh, you’re right. I need to let this stuff wear off. That way I can remember it all and look into this more.” Givens giggled. “Are my toes moving?”
Johnston stuck the straw back into Givens mouth. “Yes Boss, they’re wiggling just fine.”
Novelty, Ohio
The Camry pulled up to the horse farm at 2am. Phelps looked at his co-driver, “Give me a hand getting him outta the trunk and into the basement will ya?”
“You think he’s still alive Sir after all that driving cooped up back there?” MSG (RET) Miller asked.
“Oh yea, I’m sure he’s still alive, just stoned to the bone.” He chuckled.
As Phelps stuck the key into the lock, Miller said, “Ya know, I’m not sure I signed up for the right thing here Sir. This is treason.”
“No cold feet Miller, you’re in it neck deep now and there ain’t no going back. Besides, you came to us. Remember? You were bored after you retired. Are ya excited now?”
“Yer an asshole Sir!” Miller quipped and reached in the trunk.
Phelps laughed, “Well, I’d hate to disappoint ya. Now give me a hand.”
