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Post by ncsfsgm on May 2, 2022 20:56:19 GMT -6
PARABELLUM
Chapter 1
"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog." The old man had told him.
John took another sip from his CamelBak and got his mind back in the present. He reached over to the pack beside him and pulled a Millennium Bar out of the side pocket.
Blueberry. He like blueberry. Opening the package, he took a bite of the bar. He needed the carbs. He still had five more miles to go and maybe then he would be safe, for a while at least.
He finished the bar, balled up and stuffed the foil packet into the side pocket on the backpack, then secured the pocket flap. Picking up and shouldering the pack, John picked up the Colt M4 and headed up the game trail.
He had "borrowed" a couple of cars until he left the last one abandoned outside of Springfield at a truck stop. Making his way to the rail yards, he had hopped freight trains and rode gondola rail cars down to Fort Smith, then took off cross-country on the last 42 mile leg of his journey.
Kneeling in the brush, he carefully scanned the small open area around the lodge. He work his way around the clearing, slowly searching for any signs anyone had been there recently. Not even the grass in the overgrown driveway was disturbed. He made his way to the butchering shed, felt on top of the beam near the kerosene lantern hook and found the key. Making his way to the lodge porch door, he unlocked the heavy door then locked it behind him as he went through. Turning on the red lens penlight, he searched in the pantry and found the hurricane lamps and took one out. Lighting it, he sat it on the rustic wooden table next to the M4 carbine. The lodge looked the same as when he came here as a boy. Grandpa had built this lodge with his buddies that served with him in World War II. They had all been members of the 100th Infantry Division and had all become close friends while battling the Germans in the winter of 1944 in the Vosges Mountains of France. Luckily, they made it through the war and after, kept in contact. It wasn't until the 50s that they went in together and bought this land from one of their buddies, Joe Taylor, who had come under hard times. The land had been in Joe's family since the 1800s and was pristine. In later years, They built the lodge and every year they all gathered here to deer hunt, drink whiskey and tell lies on one another. When one of the men died, the rest would gather here 30 days later to toast his passing in commemoration. John had spent several summers here too after Grandpa dammed up the stream and made a ten acre lake. The forests surrounding Washita Lodge was established in 1907 as the Arkansas National Forest; the name was changed to Ouachita National Forest 1926. The land ownership had been grandfathered and the original owners maintained all rights. His grandfather and his friends had named the land Washita Lodge because they'd be damned if they were going to call it "Ouachita." That was the French version of Washita and after seeing how the back-stabbing little bastards were in France, well, let's just say they weren't kindly to someone that folded quicker than a a cheap folding chair at the first sign of trouble. There was a chained gate at the only access road to the property and no one in their right mind, except John, would chance the rugged cross-country walk to get there. His father and Grandpa taught him how to live off this land….no, those weren't the right words…they taught him how to live WITH the land.
John had spent most of his formative years living with his grandfather in Greenwood, a sleepy little town southeast of Fort Smith. His father had a government job that kept him way a lot. His mother had died when he was seven so his grandfather was all he had of family that was close around most of the time. He never understood why his grandfather picked that town. He found out much later that his grandfather had more money than he'd heard anyone in Fort Smith having. He and three of his friends had all been investment bankers in the fifties and sixties and did very well, John supposed. He had never known how much his grandfather was worth until he died last year. Even his father was surprised, John thought sadly. He hadn't seen his father since the funeral. His grandfather's influence had led him to get his degree and go into investment banking. At the same time it got him into the mess he was in now. John had graduated college with a 3.9 GPA and easily got a job with Carlisle Investments, something he would later come to regret.
John ran his hand over the M4. He hadn't taken it out of his pack until he'd reached the heavy Ozark forests. There was always the danger of running up on black bear, panther or maybe even the Ozark Howler here. John had never seen a Howler, but had heard one scream in the distance. Grandpa called it a Wampus cat. Whatever you wanted to call it, John felt better with the weapon.
He picked up the lamp and walked to his Grandfather's study. Over the door was a plank from a bald cypress with the quote: "Si vis pacem, para bellum" carved in it. If you want peace, prepare for war. That was definitely germane to his situation.
John went to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, pressed the hidden switch and pulled the bookcase out. Turning on the penlight, he entered the narrow staircase and pulled the shelf closed behind him. Walking slowly down the stairs, he reached the bottom and flipped the light switch and the pedestrian tunnel was lit by mounted LED lights down the center of the roof. Good. He saw no moisture at all. He walked down the tunnel and punched in a code his grandfather had made him memorize. He heard a click and turned the wheel, sliding the locking bolts out of the doorjamb. Pulling the heavy blast door open, he turned on the lights and scanned the room. Nothing looked out of place. Nothing should have been. He and his father were the only people left alive that knew of this place. John went to the storeroom and pulled out several freeze-dried meals and a container of lemonade powder then left the shelter, cutting off the lights. Once back in the kitchen, he suddenly remembered the shutters were closed. When they had added the shutters, they were designed and built to keep any light from escaping the house. It was still daylight outside so he turned the lights on in the kitchen. If the cameras still worked, he would check after sundown to see if the shutters still kept the lights from being seen. John went to the stove and turned on a burner. Not hearing a hiss, he went over to the pantry and turned the gas on. He rinsed out a kettle and filled it with water, lit the burner and set the kettle over the flame. The adrenaline was slowly draining from his system. He had been on edge for the last few days and now, at least for a while, he could calm down enough to get his head straight and figure out what happened and what he was going to do.
The whistle of the kettle startled him from his doze, causing him to jerk his head off his arms crossed on the table. He got up and took the kettle off the stove and opened a bag of the freeze-dried spaghetti. It was getting to be late Fall and he was going to need some heat in here soon. There was an outdoor wood furnace that heated the house and provided hot water in the winter. The furnace building was set in a grove of thick pines that help dissipate what little smoke was released from the furnace. The furnace had a catalytic combustor that reduced emissions by 75 percent.
John added water to the meal, stirred it with his long handled spork and closed the bag back up to let the spaghetti absorb the water. Looking in one of the cabinets, he found a bottle of Texas Pete and sat it on the table. Rather than sit around and wait, John took a headlamp out of his pack and put it on. John turned the red lens light on and carried his pack through the dark house to the first bedroom he came to. He'd roll out his sleeping bag later. Returning to the kitchen, John made a glass of lemonade and checked the spaghetti. Adding a few dashes of hot sauce, John mixed the spaghetti up and started eating. He wasn't going to think any more about why he was here. After he'd eaten, he wanted to get a shower. It would have to be cold, but he didn't care. Clean clothes and a good night's rest were what he needed right now.
John woke up refreshed. He swung his legs off the bed and sat there for a minute. Pressing the light button on his watch, he saw it was a little after 9:00 AM. There was no light showing around the shutters on the window in the room but that didn't mean anything. If the shutters worked correctly, you wouldn't see light anyway. Putting on his boots, he headed back downstairs to fill his growling stomach. Searching in the pantry with his penlight, he found a can of bacon, a #10 can of freeze-dried bread, pouches of powdered eggs and a jar of coffee crystals. Breakfast.
John opened the can of bread first. Taking out six slices, he wet the slices in spigot water, patted them dry with a towel, and had to let them sit for 30 minutes in a zip lock bag. He put on the kettle to make hot water for coffee. Seeing a can of pilot crackers in the pantry, he searched through a box and found MRE peanut butter packs and jelly packs. He opened up the can of crackers and ate the bland wafers with the peanut butter and jelly to knock off the hunger pangs. John made a cup of coffee to wash the crackers down and began his thinking process.
1. The bomb wasn't a coincidence. 2. They were trying to kill him. 3. He had been stupid to log into that computer. 4. Do they have enough information to track me here?
That was enough to play with right now. First, if that guy had not tried to steal his car, he would have gotten into it the next morning and probably have died. Why? Because of what he had seen on the computer. When he hit the space bar the monitor screen awoke with all the information he wasn't supposed to be privy to. The very investment firm he was working for was the money behind drug traffickers in the southwest part of the U.S. He had copied a lot of files to a thumb drive he carried before he heard someone coming down the hallway, but they found out somehow he had been at that station. He had just wanted to quickly check his email. He had sweated the rest of the day and when he got home, went over his actions that day. Yes, he had probably left fingerprints. The information was poison if he didn't get it to the right people. The problem was the state's Attorney General looked to be part of the operation. He thought about his personnel information in HR and if there was any information that would lead them to here.
The wake-up call came when his car blew up at 3:00 AM in front of his duplex. The unlucky dude that tried to steal his car…..or maybe trying to put the bomb on the car and made a mistake….whatever….made him quickly get dressed, grab his BOB and head out the back door of the duplex. It was a plan he and his father had worked out. He had been on the run ever since. He needed to get a phone. He'd dropped his phone through the opened passenger side window of a truck outside of Springfield to keep from being tracked. The truck was headed for a Tyson's Food plant somewhere. He'd have to check and see if the Jeep Gladiator was still in the shed and if it even ran. He was going to have to tread lightly.
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Post by udwe on May 2, 2022 21:14:30 GMT -6
Wow! Great start! Keep going!
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Post by cavsgt on May 2, 2022 22:36:08 GMT -6
LOVE IT
THANK YOU phill
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Post by paulk on May 2, 2022 22:58:59 GMT -6
Outstanding!!
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Post by gipsy on May 3, 2022 6:40:26 GMT -6
Cool beans
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Post by phwoarchild on May 3, 2022 6:53:04 GMT -6
I'm liking it.
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Post by paulk on May 3, 2022 15:34:22 GMT -6
More please!
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Post by bluefox2 on May 3, 2022 16:22:56 GMT -6
And once again the Angler has set the hook
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Post by ncsfsgm on May 3, 2022 19:24:19 GMT -6
Chapter 2
John took the Sangean radio and an earbud out of his pack. Checking the charge level on the battery meter, He sat back and cranked the radio for twenty minutes. Extending the antenna, John tuned the radio until he found a news station. He didn't know why even bothered. They only reported what they wanted you to hear and the lies were so interlaced within their dialogs, news became fiction. He tuned the radio to the weather band and heard the local broadcast. If it kept like this he could do without heat for a while, although he could use a hot shower. He turned the radio off and placed it and the earbud back into their drawstring bag and the bag back into his pack. Going over to the refrigerator, he removed the tape off the door that held the wedge that kept the door cracked open and checked it out. Nothing was growing inside so he slide the fridge out far enough to plug it in. The compressor motor came on with a hum. He got down a pitcher, made a pitcher of lemonade, and sat it in the refrigerator. Looking through the utensil drawer, he found a can opener and opened the can of bacon. He rinsed and dried the cast iron frying pan and set it on the lit burner. Rolling the bacon out of the can, which looked to be about two packs worth, he laid four slices in the heating pan. The bacon was already partially cooked so he wouldn't get a lot of grease out of it, but enough to scramble some eggs. While the bacon was cooking, John opened the pouch of freeze-dried eggs and measured out the equivalent of four eggs, added water and beat them. Once the bacon was done, he laid the slices on a plate and poured the egg mix in the pan and scrambled them up. Taking the ZipLock bag of bread slices, he had prepared, he took two slices out. Giving the eggs one more stir, he scraped them onto the plate with the bacon and threw the bread into the pan to toast a little. In the pantry he found an unopened jar of apple jelly and set it on the table. He turned off the burner when the toast was done and added the toast to his plate. John sat down, only to get right back up to pour a glass of lemonade. He almost made it into his seat when he turned and went back to the pantry. Yep, there on the shelf was a can of Red Feather canned butter. He quickly opened the can and spread a thick layer of butter on his bread and added some jelly. Taking up a forkful of eggs and a strip of crispy bacon, he began eating his breakfast.
He ate a few bites then stopped, shook his head and got up and turned the light on in the kitchen. As he finished eating, he was starting to see things he hadn't noticed before. They'd made a few changes since he was here last. On the wall at the end of the counter was what looked like a tankless water heater. He finishing eating, wiping the plate with the last of his toast, popping the bread into his mouth, and got up. John inspected the enameled box on the wall and went over to the sink. He turned on the hot water faucet and let it run. The water didn't get any warmer, in fact, it seemed as though it was getting colder. He went back over and found the on-off switch on the far side of the unit and flipped it to the on position. Going back over to the sink, he put his hand in the running water and smiled when he felt the water start getting warmer. Putting the sink stopper in, he added a little dish soap and placed everything but the frying pan in the soapy water. He washed, rinsed and dried his dishes before tackling the frying pan. He ran just the hot water and rinsed the cast iron pan, using a copper pot scrubber to remove that last bits of egg. When it was clean, he dried the pan thoroughly and sat it on the stove top.
<Well, it wasn't a 5-star breakfast, but it was filling and really not that bad.
Curious, John went down the hall and checked the bathroom. He didn't see anything in the light he shined around until he opened a cabinet door. There was an electric on-demand water heater. John grinned. He could have his hot shower without having to start a fire in the outdoor furnace. He was beginning to think there had been more changes around here than he was aware of. Going to his pack, he pulled out a fresh set of travel underwear his dad had purchased for him three years ago. When he traveled, He could go with two T-shirts and two pairs of boxers. He could wear one, wash them out that night and wear other pair the next day. The material was quick drying so they were ready to pack away the next morning. John had packed three pairs though, just in case. He took his hygiene kit back to the bathroom and got his hot shower, putting on fresh underwear and wearing the clothes he had change into the night before.
Feeling much better, John washed his underwear out and hung it on the shower rod. He was feeling more human. He brushed his teeth but didn't shave, just using the pair of folding scissors to trim his mustache and beard. Maybe it would help to hide his identity.
John went back to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. He remembered seeing a French Press, found it and put a kettle of water on to boil Maybe it would be better than the coffee crystals.. John watched the flame as it heated the kettle. Natural gas. Grandpa had his own gas well drilled and the equipment needed to supply the lodge. They never had used propane here. He wasn't sure why they had put electric water heaters in. They had more than enough gas to heat everything. Maybe he would figure it out….if he was here long enough. He just had to wait out the Plan.
"Giving money and power to government is like giving the car keys and whiskey to teenage boys." - P.J. O'Rourke
John turned on the bronze, Tiffany-style floor lamp and sat down in the leather chair. Putting his feet up on the ottoman, he picked up the book off the side table, Louis L'Amour's Last of the Breed. He tried to give his attention to the book but his mind kept drifting. By the Plan, he was supposed to stay here for a week without contacting someone else or until someone came and gave him the correct bona fides. He laid the book back down and went and got his pack. Emptying it completely, he repacked it, taking note of what he needed to add to it. John went down to the shelter and got enough food for four days, plus more Millennium Bars from out of a case of them on the shelf. Repacking the pack, he remembered the underwear he had left in the bathroom to dry and retrieved it. Setting the pack on the floor next to the entrance to the shelter, he swung the bookshelf back and went down the stairs and to the entrance to the escape tunnel. He opened the hatch and turned on his headlamp. Following the tunnel to its end, he unlatched the dogs and slowly lifted the hatch. The cedar thicket still concealed the hatch and it looked like everything was clear. He noiselessly closed the hatch and secured it then returned to the library to read. A few minutes later he put the book back down and went back down to the shelter storeroom and checked the buckets there. Selecting one, he unscrewed the Gamma lid and took out a 1-lb bag of pinto beans and closed the bucket back up. Taking the beans to the kitchen, he got out a Dutch oven and rinsed it out. Opening the vacuum sealed bag, he dumped the beans into the pot, retrieving the three packs of ham flavored powder from the bag. He dumped the powder into the pot and went to the pantry. Searching the shelves, he found the jars of minced onion and garlic, added a good portion of each in with the beans, added water to cover the beans, then placed the lid on the pot and sat it on the burner. Going over to the utility drawer, he got out two AA batteries and put them in the battery box that supplied power to the piezo igniter on the stove. Turning the burner on, he heard a couple of clicks and the gas flame ignited. After adjusting the flame and setting the kitchen timer, he went back to his book.
The ding of the timer caught John's attention. Laying the book down, he went to the kitchen and checked the beans, adding more water. Resetting the timer, he went back down in the storage room and took the inventory off the wall. He scanned down the list until he found cans of cornbread mix, Taking one upstairs, he sat the can on the table. He tasted a bean to determine its doneness and opened the can of cornbread mix. After reading the instructions, he turned the oven on and got down a bowl. Measuring out the mix and water, John stirred the batter. He got the tin of lard out of the pantry, smelled it, then greased a frying pan and poured the batter into the pan. Placing the pan in the oven, he set the timer for 40 minutes. Sitting down at the table, he let his mind wander.
He was ten years old when his father trained him in orienteering. He ran John through military type training on how to use a map and compass and crossing long distances with ease and speed. Early on some mornings, John's father would give him a geographical coordinate , a description of the cache site, and a time he had to be back, usually just before dark. This would happen two or three times a week. When his father was away traveling for his government job, his grandfather would send him out. John would have to go to the first location as fast as he could, find the cache and get the location for the next cache. Sometimes there were only three, sometimes as many as five caches, but the last cache would almost always be the same. The last cache would contain the coordinates of the house and he would have to bring back whatever article was in the .30 caliber ammo can. The last can always contained something that would enhance John's wilderness survival skills. A multi-tool, some type of fire starter, miniature fishing kit, sheath knife, 550# cord, camouflage tarp and a mylar sleeping bag were some of the things he had brought back.
John went to the coat rack by the back door and took down the leather day pack that still hung there. The leather was still as pliable as when Grandpa and helped him make it. John had killed his first deer there on the property and Grandpa had showed him how to field dress it, skin and brain tan the hide. After they had tanned and smoked the hide, Grandpa made some cardboard patterns and had John trace the outlines on the hide and cut them out. Using heavy sail needles, a sewing palm and Spiderwire 50# test braided fishing line, Grandpa showed him how to sew the pieces together and make the pack, They even improvised and made a map pocket and a compass pocket for it. John carried that pack from then on his orienteering runs, although he didn't have to use the map much after a while. He knew the terrain on the 3300 acres so well he could take a look at the spot on the map he was going to and just using his compass to keep him going in the general direction, head right to the spot. Of course, the caches were never in the same place. Grandpa and his father would use the Rokons to go out and set the cache, which made finding the caches more difficult, but he never failed to find them. John opened the map pocket and the laminated map was right there where it rode for all those years. The compass was still in good condition too. It was like opening a treasure chest of memories when John emptied the pack out on the table. He sorted out the things and a flash of memory came as he picked up and handled each item. It hadn't taken him long to get some things on his own and turn the pack into a light survival pack. When he had gone to college, he had left the pack here because he didn't think he would need the items in the city. It didn't take long for him to start putting together an urban survival kit which later grew into the Bug Out Bag that had gotten him here.
The timer went off so he went and checked the cornbread; perfect. Turning off the oven, John sat the pan on the stove and sliced a good sized wedge, placing it on a bread plate, Ladling out a bowl full of beans, he got the butter out of the fridge and buttered his cornbread. Pouring a glass of cold lemonade, he sat down to enjoy the meal.
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Post by udwe on May 3, 2022 19:53:26 GMT -6
Yep, gonna be a good one!
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Post by gipsy on May 3, 2022 20:39:27 GMT -6
Thanks for the update. Looking great so far.
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ydderf2
Member
"I'm from the government and here to help" hahahaha
Posts: 321
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Post by ydderf2 on May 4, 2022 8:06:44 GMT -6
I'm liking it thanks.
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Post by ncsfsgm on May 4, 2022 16:04:14 GMT -6
Chapter 3
John's eyes snapped up from the book. He'd heard a faint noise. Taking the pistol from the side table, he silently got to his feet and walked softly to the door of the library where he could see the back door. TAP….TAP..TAP..TAP. softly sounded. The tap code for the letter "K" was only part of the bona fides. Walking softly to the back door, John cocked his pistol and stood to the side of the door. Raising his left hand he softly tapped, TAP..TAP..TAP..TAP….TAP, the letter "Q." It was answered with TAP..TAP..TAP..TAP….TAP..TAP, the letter "R." John unlocked the door and stepped well back, leveling the pistol. The door slowly opened as John's finger slowly touched the trigger.
"I'm glad you made it son."
John uncocked the pistol. "DAD!" How did you get here?"
"Through the gate. I have a key you know." Jeremy Cassidy said with a grin.
Jeremy grabbed his son in a bear hug. "I was pretty sure you would be here but I had some lingering doubts."
"No! I mean, what's going on?"
"I need something to drink first, then we will talk."
"I've got cold lemonade."
"No, I just want a glass if that well water. I missed the taste."
Jeremy got a glass out of the cupboard and let the water run in the sink for a few moments before filling the glass. Drinking it down, he filled the glass again and walked over to the table and sat down.
"First, let's talk about what made you come here."
John told him about finding the information on the money laundering, drugs and the information about the operation's principle actors.
"Dad, I didn't know where or who to turn to. It's almost as if every politician and Judge in St. Louis is involved."
Jeremy nodded. "They pretty much are, and so are most of the law enforcement. The chain goes all the way to our Justice Department and a couple of three-letter agencies.
"How do you know all this Dad?"
Jeremy looked across the table at John.
John, what I'm about to tell you can never be uttered to another soul. Lives depend on it, and possibly, the future of this nation."
John swallowed hard and nodded.
"Overtly, I work for USAID. My job is perfect cover for my other work with a covert organization called 'The Shield.' The Shield acts as another check and balance in the system. It was put together by a few men over thirty years ago to counter the creeping corruption in our government when it became obvious corrupt men would eventually change our form of government. There are now a couple of thousand members scattered through the government and hundreds of auxiliaries who support the effort in one way or another."
"What do you do to stop them?" John asked.
"We try to expose them to public scrutiny but generally they end back in the cabal in some other form after getting their wrists slapped. When this happens, usually some form of selective elimination is used."
"You mean you kill them?"
"Like you would any deadly pest that invades your home. They won't bother you anymore."
"There is that." John grinned.
"What did you do with the information?" Jeremy asked.
"I have it on two flash drives."
"I need to take them to our intel people. This is a real coup to get information straight from their computer network. There have been people killed trying to do that."
"Yeah, it damn near got me killed and now I'm on the run." John said gloomily, staring at the table.
Jeremy grinned. "Think again."
John looked up. "What?"
"Well, Somehow, the DNA test they ran from the pieces and parts found in and around your car matched your next of kin's."
"What! How?"
"A little evidence manipulation. I told you we had people everywhere supporting us. So, you are, for all intents and purposes, D-E-A-D."
"Now what am I going to do? I can't use my credit cards, driver's license…..I'm stuck here!"
"Calm down. I'll get some new papers built for you. Your grandfather worked this out a long time ago. From here on, you will be Brian Cassidy, First Cousin Once Removed."
"I don't even know what that means."
"It means you will be free again. Just don't go back to St. Louis. The beard will help too."
"Then I'm going to open the shutters and let some daylight in here!"
Jeremy chuckled. "John, this property has no ties to the Cassidy name. As far as the records show, it is owned by John Henry Development Corporation which has only two shares of stock. You own one and I own one."
"That's all well and good, but this isn't exactly an income producing property and I'm going to have to get a job. I can't live off freeze-dried food forever."
Jeremy smiled. "You're hired."
"Hired? For what?"
"You are now the Property Manager for Washita Lodge. You'll get a steady paycheck, well above what you were making sitting behind a desk in St. Louis."
"Really?"
"Sure. No stress of city life, call your own shots, feed the Howler a bag of apples now and again."
"Well, it would have been kind of creepy going back to St. Louis. What about my things?"
"You apparently got out in the nick of time. That duplex was engulfed by the time the police and fire trucks arrived."
Okay, I guess I'll take the job then. I need to get some clothes and things.
"Well, don't make me twist your arm!" Jeremy grinned. "We'll head out in the morning and get you started on a new identity packet and do some shopping. We'll head up to Broken Arrow for that."
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Post by gipsy on May 4, 2022 17:09:54 GMT -6
Safe at last, sort of. Thanks for the update.
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Post by udwe on May 4, 2022 21:40:39 GMT -6
Getting better & better!
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Post by paulk on May 5, 2022 11:29:49 GMT -6
This one has really gripped me from the very beginning. Well done!
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Post by ncsfsgm on May 5, 2022 18:33:18 GMT -6
Chapter 4
"Where did this come from?" John asked.
"From the garage barn, Where it's always been. You didn't check out any of the buildings when you got here?"
"No, I waited until dark and stayed inside out of sight."
"Well, use this vehicle when you go anywhere. It is known around here."
"This is diesel?" John asked.
"Yep. Silverado 2500. I'll show you the diesel storage tank when we get back. It isn't easily recognizable for what it is."
"Where are we going?"
"First, We need to make a stop to get your identity papers started. Then it's off to do your shopping."
"I've only got about a hundred in cash on me."
"Be patient. We'll take care of that."
Traffic was sparse on the way to Fort Smith and light also on I-40. When they turned off I-40 to head to Broken Arrow, Jeremy pulled into a Love's Truck Stop and bought bottles of spring water."
"You said there is a Bass Pro up this way? I like to get a couple of Nalgene bottles to keep in the fridge." John said.
"No problem, There's one in Broken Arrow. We'll go to it after we make the first stop. We need to kill some time anyway."
Before they actually got into Broken Arrow, they got in secondary streets and ended up at a small boat dealership. When they walked in the door, a man behind the counter got up off a stool and made his way through a door behind the counter. Jeremy went around the end of the counter and followed the man back, John following Jeremy. They ended up in an office in the back of the building.
"Good to see you Jer."
"You too Bill." Jeremy said, handing Bill an envelope.
"What all do you need?"
"The full makeup. He's going off the map."
"I can get him a driver's license made up in two or three hours. The rest will take about three days."
Bill went over to a safe and got out a white box and a camera and handed the box and a card to John.
"Brian, you can activate the phone in three hours. The account will be set up under the name of Brian Cassidy. Use that name from now on. Now, sit in that chair over there and let me get a couple of photos."
Bill looked at the digital photos and was satisfied.
"Jer, come back in three hours, just to be on the safe side, and I'll have the ID cards and driver's license ready."
"Okay Bill, thanks."
On the way out, Jeremy tossed the truck keys to Brian and got in on the passenger side.
"Go up to the next intersection and take a left." Jeremy directed.
Jeremy kept giving him directions until they were at a branch of the First National Bank of Broken Arrow. Going in, Jeremy asked the head teller to see the Manager. They were ushered into a conference room and asked to wait. In a couple of minutes, a woman came through the door.
"Hello Jer, welcome back."
"Ashe, I need access to the box and a couple of signatures."
"The key?"
Jeremy handed her a key and she left the room, soon to return with a safety deposit box. Jeremy opened it up and took out a large, padded envelope and a smaller one. Opening the smaller one, he took out two card holders, one containing a credit card, one containing a debit card, and a some paperwork. Jeremy showed on the paperwork where Brian was to sign then passed the paperwork to Ashely.
"Jer, we need to set the pin number for the debit card." Ashely said.
Ashely had Brian accompany her over to a computer terminal in the room and placed the card in a card reader with a numeric key pad. She sat at the terminal and hit a few keys then directed Brian to type in his desired pin number. He hesitated a second then typed in 1-8-9-2 for his favorite rifle back at the Lodge, the Winchester 1892. Ashely told him he could remove the card from the reader.
"Is there anything else Jer?"
"No, that will be all Ashe. Thank you."
Ashely took the box with her as she left. Jeremy tore open the padded envelope and removed a money belt.
"Put this on under your shirt. There's $500 in there."
Brian strapped on the money belt and loosely tucked in his shirt and put his light jacket back on. As they got up, Ashely returned and handed Jeremy his key.
"How long are you in town for?" Ashely asked.
"Just for today, then I'm off again."
"Well, next time, make enough time to take me out to dinner." Ashely said, grinning.
"You can count on it. Thanks again Ashe."
"You're more than welcome."
They left the bank and Jeremy gave Brian directions to Bass Pro.
They each got a shopping cart and headed for the men's clothing area. Brian picked out a couple of sets of jeans, hiking pants, cargo pants, underwear, base layers, flannel shirts, long sleeve T-shirts, a medium weight coat, a heavy winter coat a couple of knit hats, socks, Gortex rain suit, hunting clothing, boots and gloves. Brian picked up a couple of Nalgene bottles.
"I think that should do it." Brian said.
"You need some slacks, Sport Coat, or anything like that?"
"Not right now. Maybe later once I've settled in."
Jeremy nodded and they went to the checkout.
After loading the purchases in the truck, they went over to Los Cabos Mexican Grill and Cantina for lunch. Jeremy had a beer with his lunch and Brian drank iced tea. They killed time talking about the Lodge and stretched the lunch out until it was time to go back and pick up the IDs. Jeremy directed Brian out of town and back to the boat dealer. Bill had everything ready when they walked in.
"He's already in the computers. He's as legit as he can be without standing in front of the camera at the DMV."
"Thanks Bill."
"I'll give you a call Brian, when I have the passport done."
"Okay, thanks."
"Not a problem. Keep your powder dry."
On the way down 351 Brian asked, "Are Bill and Ashely part.."
"Yes, but don't ever contact them directly without notifying me first. Otherwise, you could crash the cells."
Brian drove on in silence. He had a lot more questions but they could wait until they got back to the Lodge.
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Post by gipsy on May 5, 2022 18:54:25 GMT -6
Thanks for the update.
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Post by biggkidd on May 5, 2022 19:12:20 GMT -6
Turning out to be cloak and dagger interesting.
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Post by imahic on May 5, 2022 20:51:25 GMT -6
Looks like another good one. Thanks.
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Post by ncsfsgm on May 6, 2022 15:39:02 GMT -6
Chapter 5
The next morning Brian cooked bacon, eggs and toast again for breakfast. Jeremy ate it, but during their scant conversation suggested Brian get fresher groceries.
Brian chuckled. "I'd planned yesterday to stop and get a few things but my mind was in a whirl. Dad, what is happening?"
"Well, the bottom line is, Shield is tired of playing whack-a-mole. From now on they are going to grab the moles by the neck and tear them out of the machine. The left, with the support of the main stream media, have damaged this country to the point to where it is difficult, if not impossible to counteract their Marxist's agendas without extreme prejudice. Look at what has been happening in the last five years. The FBI has become the enforcement arm of the leftist establishment, the Democrats are threatening to pack the Supreme Court to get the laws that only benefit the Leftist's agenda. Right now they are trying to politicize the Court and put outside political pressure on the justices. To pack the Court will politicize it beyond redemption. Leftist Senators are basically saying they don't want courts and laws anymore; they want just politics as the basis for what's the law, same as Hugo Chávez once did. The fevered tirades clearly show we have reached the point that the left has decided that policy will not be made like sausage, but through tantrum, intimidation, and riot. If the Supreme Court doesn't rule their way, then the Court is illegitimate, stolen and therefore has to be destroyed to save itself from making incorrect rulings. As a political pundit so eloquently recently noted, "whenever the left feels they have lost control of an institution, they try to destroy it."
"So it boils down to a civil war." Brian stated.
"Yes, that pretty much what it boils down to. But it won't be a scorched earth policy like the Democrats have historically run. The collateral damage with be there, in war that can't always be helped, but we will minimize it as much as possible. It will be selective elimination to the greatest extent possible. Like I said, we're going to grab the moles by the neck, rip their heads off, and crap down their throats. The Democrats like to preach and support intimidation, now we're going to show them what intimidation really is. We aren't going to play word games, we're playing for keeps."
"What can I do?"
"Get back in tune with the land. Occasionally I will be back or will contact you about someone coming here to stay for a short time. I'll need to leave in a couple of days, but tomorrow, you and I are going to the market and get some fresh food! I'm feeling a desire for some fresh meat."
The next morning they went the Harps in Waldron and filled a couple of carts. Brian bought several packs of ground beef, strip steaks, a couple of packs of chicken breasts, some steak burgers, beef hotdogs, four packs of thick sliced bacon, smoked ham hocks, three packs of tortillas, smoked sausage, cheddar cheese slices, sliced loaf bread, hotdog buns, hamburger buns, eggs, seedless red grapes, a bag of salad, 3 pounds of baking potatoes, 2 pounds of white onions, and a pound of smoked salmon. Jeremy got a strange look from Brian when he selected two 5-lb, mesh bags of apples and set them in the cart. In another aisle Jeremy added a case of beer.
When they pushed the cart out in the parking lot Brian asked his father about the apples.
'Wait, I will show you later."
When they got back to the Lodge, Brian put some of the things into the freezer and kept out a couple of steaks, potatoes and the bag of salad for dinner. Jeremy picked up one of the bags of apples and told Brian to follow him. Jeremy walked out to the garage barn and laid the bag of apples on the cargo rack of one of the Rokons. Checking the fuel level, Jeremy gave the starter rope a pull and the bike started. Brian checked another bike and got it started and followed his father out of the barn in the direction of the far tree line. When they reached the woodline, they rode about 100 meters into the forest and stopped next to a huge oak tree. Jeremy got off the bike, picked up the bag of apples, carried them over to the tree and hung the bag on a rusted hook embedded in the tree. Jeremy got back on the bike and a puzzled Brian followed him back to the garage barn.
"What was that about?" Brian asked.
"Let's go to the Lodge and talk." Jeremy replied.
Inside, Jeremy got two beers out of the fridge and handed one to Brian.
"The apples are for Harvey, or whomever is running the show."
"Who is Harvey?"
Jeremy chuckled. "It's not a matter of 'Who,' but 'What,' is Harvey. Harvey is a Howler."
Stunned, Brian stared at his father. "You're telling me there is such a thing as the Ozark Howler?"
Jeremy to another sip of his beer. "Howler, Swamp Ape, Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Yeti, Skunk Ape, Almas, Wendigo, Orang Pendek, Mapingauri, Yeren, Genashowa, there are many names for them, but yes, they are real. There's been a family or tribe or whatever you call a group of them around here for as long as the Taylor family had owned the land. They leave us alone, we leave them alone, except in cases where we need to do something to protect them. They scream when anyone enters their territory, except for us here at the Lodge; they accept us. For that, we put out a bag of apples now and again for them. Those apples are probably already gone. They have excellent hearing and would have heard us."
"What do I do if I run into one?"
"Nothing. Just walk away. They are no danger but get uneasy of someone looks at them too long. They'll probably turn away before you can."
"So, you are leaving tomorrow?" Brian asked.
"Yeah, I've got things I need to do. The cell phone, have you activated it?"
"Not yet."
"Well activate it. Do not download any GPS type apps. They won't work. In fact, anything that requires your location won't work. That is an untraceable phone. It can't even be traced via cell towers. I don't know how they do it but the geeks have a way of doing that."
Brian got the phone out of the box and activated it. Jeremy took the phone and dialed his number. When his phone rang, Jeremy handed the phone back and took out his phone.
"Add that number to your contact list. Anyway, the phone acts just like any other phone. You can text, email, browse the internet, everything. Also this is an encrypted phone. If I, or whoever you're talking to tells you to go dark, press the '7' key four times. You'll hear a couple of beeps and the encryption will activate. When you end the call they encryption automatically shuts down.
"So, what do I do here?" Brian asked.
"Anything you want, within reason. We used to keep horses here, and cattle too. Get a couple of horses, some cows to raise for slaughter, find a girl and have some fun. There's one more thing I need to show you. Come with me."
Jeremy got up and walked down the hall, Brian following. Jeremy opened the door to a storage closet, tripped a hidden switch and pulled a door open. Before them in the narrow area was a ladder going down. Jeremy flipped a light switch on and went down the ladder. Brian hesitated then followed. At the bottom of the ladder was a room that had gun racks on one side of the room and what looked like ammo cases on the other side. Stacks of other cases were arranged throughout the room.
"There's guns, ammo, night vision devices, body armor and I don't know what all down here."
"What's it for?"
"Just in case."
Jeremy went back to the ladder and climbed up. Following him, Brian looked up and there was a cage-like thing hanging above the door at the top of the ladder.
"What is that?"
Jeremy pressed a button on the wall of the shaft and a big basket was lowered.
"This is how we get equipment up and down."
Jeremy raised the basket and shut off the light in the shaft.
"What do I do with that stuff?"
"Give it out to those who come here for something. Sign is Robin, countersign is harvest. I'll text you when they change. If someone comes and doesn't say something with the word 'Robin' included, they are not from us. Treat them like a civilian."
Brian nodded in understanding.
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Post by gipsy on May 6, 2022 17:51:45 GMT -6
Thanks for the update.
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ydderf2
Member
"I'm from the government and here to help" hahahaha
Posts: 321
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Post by ydderf2 on May 7, 2022 16:10:33 GMT -6
Thanks
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Post by ncsfsgm on May 7, 2022 21:28:16 GMT -6
Chapter 6
Brian's father was up and had coffee made when Brian came out of his room the next morning.
"I made a copy of the flash drives. I didn't think that old HP was going to make it," Brian said, handing the single drive to his father.
"Where's the other one?"
"That's a bigger drive. I managed to copy both onto that one."
"You might as well move into the big bedroom, Brian." Jeremy said.
"Yeah, my closet won't hold all the clothes I have now."
"Grab a cup of coffee. I'll need a ride down to the south pasture. I'm being picked up at 0700."
"We'd better leave now then, That's a twenty minute drive, unless you want to spill your coffee." Brian replied.
Jeremy went over to the pantry and came out with an orange smoke grenade. Brian looked at his father quizzically.
"It's for the pilot, so he can see the winds. When he comes in sight, pull this ring and hold it up in the air. It won't get hot. Get rid of the canister when I leave. It will burn."
They went and got in the truck. There wasn't a road, per se, to the south pasture, just a faint set of ruts. Brian parked the truck in the woodline and he and his father walked out into the pasture. At 0655, they heard the aircraft coming in from the southeast. When Brian saw the faint outline of the wings and nose of the aircraft flying just barely above the trees, he moved a few more meters out into the pasture, pulled the ring on the grenade and held it above his head. The smoke mostly drifted up. There was little to no winds. The plane floated to the ground and came to a rolling stop. Brian then recognized it as a Highlander. Jeremy and his son hugged and Brian watched him climb into the plane. The pilot pivoted the plane around and quickly rolled down the pasture and suddenly was in the air. Banking sharply, the plane stayed below the surrounding hilltops and flew away to the west, following Bush Hollow. Soon, the sound of the plane faded away. Brian looked around. The place could use a cow or two on it.
Well, now that he was basically free, he wanted a few things he had been without. He was only about 50 miles from Fort Smith where he could probably find everything he wanted. Brian didn't even bother stopping at the Lodge on the way out. An hour later he arrived at a computer store he'd found on his phone that sold Dell computers. He liked the computer he lost and wanted the same setup. The guy Wesley, set him right up. He noticed they were also a deal for Hughes satellite. Brian wasn't interested in the TV part of it, but the internet intrigued him. Wesley was a big help with that also, and told him he didn't really need an installer to come out and set it up. Anyone who had an IQ higher than a mule apple could set it up. In fact, when the installer pulled everything out of the box, he would tuck away the setup instructions so the customer didn't know how easy it was. Brian outright bought a system instead of leasing it. Wesley didn't have all the software that he wanted for his new computer but did direct him to other stores that would have what he wanted, and gave directions too. Brian made sure he took one of Wesley's business cards.
When he got home, it took longer to set up his computer than it did the satellite system. Once he got the computer set up, He logged into the net and started resaving what bookmarks he could remember. The first one was FreeRepublic.com and he stay there for a while and read the posts. He almost logged in then remembered he'd have to do a new registration. He got the registration completed then added the information to his secure password manager. He'd have to add the software licenses to the program for his computer software soon. Reading through the articles, he noticed an article about the CFO of Carlisle Investments, Richard Claybourne, dying in a private plane crash outside of Bedford, Indiana. A chill went down Brian's spine. Claybourne was neck deep in the money laundering. Brian shut the computer down. He walked over to the old Capehart International multi band portable radio that was prominently displayed on the bookcase below another multiband radio.. It was amazing this thing had worked for over forty years until one of the tubes gave out. It had been replaced by one if the earlier models of Sangean multi-band radios that had FM reception also and even used the original wire antenna they had put up for the old Capehart. Technology had come a long way. Now you could buy a multiband radio that could fit into your pocket. Turning the Sangean on, Brian found WEGR in Memphis, and listened to Fox News for a while. When they began repeating what he had already heard, he turned the radio off and went outside. He walked over to the garage building and inspected it thoroughly. The tool room was well equipped and also had a room full of filters, spare parts and oils for what he assumed was every vehicle on the Lodge land. The other bays contained the Rokons, next the old Allis Chalmers WD45 (He tried to start the tractor and after a few failed attempts, it started right up.) The next bay held a restored 1960 Jeep FC-170. It cranked right up. They hadn't restored it to showroom quality but had used it for a farm truck. It started right up and Brian was surprised to find current plates and registration for it. Who was doing that?
Moving on to an opened front equipment shed ,he found the implements for the tractor and a couple of trailers. The smoke house was still serviceable and just needed the cobwebs cleaned out. The rock-lined root cellar also needed the cobwebs cleaned out and maybe a bug bomb or two. The big two-story barn held no surprises. Grandpa had the timber framed barn dismantled in Pennsylvania, trucked her and assembled. Only a few of the original boards had to be replaced and a metal roof added. The barn was said to be over 150 years old. It was dry and dusty inside but nothing was in disrepair. The tack room was empty as was the feed room. Maybe he would get a couple of horses.
He walked back to the Lodge and got a glass of iced tea. He was just lifting the glass to his lips when he heard a vehicle on the drive. Quickly setting the glass down, he looked out the door saw a young woman getting out of a pickup truck with the logo "Silver Creek English Golden Retrievers." She walked up to the porch steps and stopped. Brian remained in the doorway, pistol in his hand, hidden behind his leg.
"I was intrigued by the number of robins I saw in the field."
Startled, Brian answered, "Yes, but they will leave soon after the harvest."
"Hi, I'm Jenna, The registration renewal came in for the Silverado," Jenna said, taking an envelope out of a messenger pouch slung over her shoulder.
Brian stared at her and slowly holstered the pistol
"I guess Jer didn't tell you about me….us?"
"Who's 'Us'?"
"My family. We keep a watch and take care of the place when no one is around. We also pick up the mail.
"I wondered why the Lodge was so clean."
"Jer pays my Aunt Millie to come over once a week to clean. If you have someone else here she can stop coming."
"No! Uh….I'm here by myself and will be for the extended future."
"Oh, okay. Well, she usually comes by on Thursdays. Oh!"
Jenna pulled a cell phone out of her bag and dialed a number. Brian's phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the number.
"Now you have my number." Jenna said. "If you need anything, just call me."
"How did you get my…"
"Jer sent me a text. We have the same kind of phone."
"What's with the Golden Retrievers?"
"We raise them. Not the kind you normally see. These are English Cream Golden Retrievers."
"Oh, okay."
"Well, if you need anything, just call."
Brian watched her drive away. "Well, I guess that leaves out going around here buck naked." Brian mumbled to himself.
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Post by udwe on May 8, 2022 7:07:30 GMT -6
Poor boy! Haha!
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