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Post by methos on Aug 4, 2016 0:00:58 GMT -6
Empty vacation neighborhood? Yeah sure its got lots of salvage potential, but talk about creepy silence... Also have the feeling there's more to this Leadfather fellow than we know just yet.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 4, 2016 11:34:36 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 23
Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 26, 2020 – 7 AM
The talking heads on CNN were, to nobody’s surprise, talking about the apparent nuclear explosion in Detroit, the scene of the annual Thanksgiving Day game between the Lions and the Vikings. There weren’t a lot of facts yet, and so the networks continued to replay the initial clip from CBS 62 in Detroit, showing the mushroom cloud growing and climbing into the sky.
Third, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, was holding Maria, resting his chin on her head. Jose had taken Monica upstairs when she became hysterical at the news from Detroit.
Third leaned back and looked at Maria. “Hon, why don’t you go upstairs and check on Monica?”
Maria looked up and smiled. “All right, Third. Keep an eye on the kitchen, will you? The turkey needs basting.” She took a step and turned back. “And if … anything happens while I’m up there, just remember I love you.”
Third smiled. “How could I ever forget that, mi esposa? We’ll be fine.” Maria turned and headed for the stairs.
The phone rang and Third picked up the kitchen handset. “Hello.”
“Third, you got the TV on?” a voice shouted from the handset.
“Yeah, Lead, had the pre-game on when everything blew – so to speak,” Third replied.
“What do you think we should do?” Leadfather asked.
“Not much we can do at the moment, except wait and see what happens next.” Third thought for a second. “Why don’t you and Margie come over now? If this thing spreads, we can head for the shelter. If it doesn’t, well, we’ve got to eat anyway.”
“Makes sense, Third. Give me an hour to get some things loaded up in the truck and lock up the saloon and we’ll be there. Keep your head down.”
"You too, Lead. See you in a while.” Third disconnected and hung up the phone as Jose came into the kitchen.
“Maria’s upstairs with Monica,” Jose said, standing where he could see the TV and Third at the same time. He smiled faintly. “Maria shooed me out, told me to come down here and check with you, see what needed doing.”
Third had opened the oven and slid the turkey out enough so that he could baste it. “Not a lot to do at the moment, though you could start cutting the potatoes up into chunks before we put them on to boil.”
Jose picked up a knife from the counter and started chunking the potatoes. “How bad is this gonna get, Third?”
Third shook his head as he closed the oven door. “I think this was a terrorist attack, probably a one-off. If it was a Chinese or Russian attack, we’d have seen more explosions by now, probably gotten an emergency alert on TV.” He stood in thought for a minute. “I’m going to go down and open up the tunnel to the shelter and the shelter door. Save us a minute or two if anything happens to Vegas.”
Third was gone a couple of minutes and came back with a small black and yellow radio. “NOAA weather radio,” Third said to Jose as he plugged the radio into the outlet the cordless phone was on. “Give us some extra warning if anything happens locally.”
Third walked into the living room and un-muted CNN. They were showing cell-phone videos now from people in the Detroit/Windsor area. The anchor was reporting that a statement from President Clinton was expected shortly and that her exact location was unknown. The Clintons had gone up to Camp David the previous day for the Thanksgiving weekend. Significant helicopter activity was reported in the area.
Maria came down the stairs with an arm around Monica’s shoulders, both of them looking red-eyed. Maria pointed to the kitchen where Jose was and Monica nearly ran in there. Maria came over to Third and held him as they watched the different amateur video clips of the explosion in Detroit.
“Anything new?” Maria asked.
Third shook his head. “Not really. President Clinton’s supposed to speak in a little while, probably from Mount Weather. CNN’s got nothing new except for cell-phone videos. That was Leadfather on the phone earlier, he and Margie are loading up his old truck and coming over in an hour.” He paused. “I opened up the basement and shelter doors, just in case we need to go below quickly.”
“You think that’ll be necessary, Third?” Maria asked while looking at the TV.
“I doubt it,” Third said after a moment’s pause. “That was a small bomb in Detroit; otherwise that TV station would’ve been damaged and unable to broadcast. And those people taking cell phone videos would have been badly injured. My guess is terrorism, al-Qaeda or ISIS. If it was a Chinese or Russian attack, a lot more warheads would have gone off, and we’d be in the shelter now.”
Third and Maria stood in silence, watching the same half-dozen or so videos play over and over while the anchor repeated what little hard news they had, over and over.
Reports were coming in to CNN of spontaneous evacuations in New York, Washington, Atlanta, Dallas, Chicago and Los Angeles, just to name a few. The previous days’ mob scenes at supermarkets and gas stations were magnified as people tried to get food, water, and gas before leaving town.
The doorbell rang, jolting Third and Maria out of their semi-daze watching the news. Third opened the front door to find Leadfather and Margie, each carrying a box. Leadfather’s old pickup was backed up the driveway almost to the garage door.
“Hello Lead, Margie, c’mon in you two – let me give you a hand with that, Margie,” Third said as he opened the door wide. Third put the box he took from Margie down on the kitchen table and motioned to Leadfather to do the same. Maria closed the front door and joined them.
“Anything new, Third?” Leadfather asked as he gave Maria a kiss on the cheek and nodded to Jose and Monica, who were finishing cutting up the potatoes at the stove.
“President’s supposed to speak in a little while,” Third replied. “Otherwise, CNN’s just showing cell-phone videos and that clip from the Detroit CBS station over and over. You two loaded up quick.”
“No sense wasting time,” Leadfather replied. “Everything in the truck is emergency stuff. These two are for dinner.”
The two couples started unloading the two boxes – several bottles of wine, a couple six-packs of a good Indian Pale Ale that Leadfather favored when he drank, a couple of pies, some bags of chips and a couple containers of dip.
“Let’s go outside, Third. There are a couple of things I’d like to lock up before we get too comfortable.”
“Sure, Lead,” Third replied. “Let’s go out through the garage.” The two men walked down the hall and into the garage, where Third hit the switch to open the door.
Leadfather undid a tarp he had thrown over the back of the pickup bed and lowered the tailgate, pulling out an old army-style footlocker.
“Didn’t want to leave the guns out here,” Leadfather said, carrying the footlocker over to the panel that concealed the dumbwaiter. “The rest is clothing and food, mostly MREs.”
“We’ve got plenty of time before dinner,” Third said. “We can get everything unloaded and stacked in the garage here if you want, worry about moving the stuff down to the basement later.”
The two men had the truck unloaded in no time. Leadfather replaced the tarp over the back as Third moved the last box, and the two men went back inside, Third closing the garage door and securing it from the inside.
They almost bumped into Maria as they went into the house. “I was just coming to get you, President Clinton will be on in just a minute.” The three couples gathered in the living room, and Third turned up the sound.
An off-screen announcer made the introduction: “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”
The picture switched from a slide of the Presidential seal to Hillary Clinton, looking pale but composed, behind a podium also bearing the Presidential seal, in front of a plain blue backdrop. Standing behind her, to her right, was Bill Clinton; to her left, Marine General Joseph Dunford, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
My fellow Americans,
Our nation has been the victim of a dastardly attack with a weapon of mass destruction. A low-yield nuclear device was detonated in the immediate vicinity of Ford Field in downtown Detroit, where a traditional NFL Thanksgiving Day game was about to start. Casualties in the area are expected to be high.
Preliminary data from NORAD and U.S. Space Command indicate the explosion was a relatively small one, with a yield of between 8 and 10 kilotons. This suggests an Improvised Nuclear Device, or IND, placed in the area prior to detonation.
Let me be extremely clear about this point: The explosion was not the result of a missile launched by China or any other nation. The United States is not under nuclear attack by China or any other nation. This despicable act appears to be that of a terrorist organization. Whether they were acting with the support of a foreign power is unknown at this time.
If you are in the greater Detroit or Windsor area, or within 100 miles to the east, please take shelter immediately to protect yourself from fallout. Monitor your local media for news and instructions.
To the rest of America, I ask you to pray for our fellow Americans and our Canadian neighbors in the affected area. Please remain calm. There is no need to evacuate. There is no need to panic.
As soon as more information is available, either I or General Dunford will provide it to you.
God bless you, and God bless the United States of America.
Good morning.
“I’ve got to get back into the kitchen, Third,” Maria said, standing up. “Let me know if anything new comes up.” Margie and Monica followed Maria out into the kitchen, the Thanksgiving gathering splitting up into men and women, as those things typically do, even if this was a very atypical day.
“What do you think, Third?” Leadfather asked. “Didn’t tell us much, did she?”
“Other than the yield, no,” Third replied. “You think that statement will settle anyone down?”
Leadfather snorted. “Remember the old joke, ‘The worst thing in the world to hear is: I’m from the government and I’m here to help’? Well, the time to panic is when the government says not to.”
“I’m not sure what else we can do here,” Third said thoughtfully. “The shelter’s ready, we’re as well-stocked as we can be on food, water, guns, ammo, fuel. The neighborhood’s essentially empty.”
“Wonder if people are bailing out of Vegas yet?” Jose asked.
“Let’s go find out. We could take a walk up the hill behind us and see a good piece of the 160 from there,” Third suggested.
“Better than sitting on our asses watching TV,” Jose agreed. “Let’s do it.”
“Lead, you think you can find something in that footlocker of yours that goes bang?” Third suggested. “I think anytime we leave the house from now on, we should go … well, prepared.”
“Good thinking, Third,” Leadfather said as he got up and headed for the garage. “Be back in a minute.”
“You think we’ll run into some bad guys, Third?” Jose asked quietly as the two men headed for the front hall closet, where they had put both their rifles for easier access.
“Could be,” he replied, “or just some frightened, panicky people. Same difference, really.”
Leadfather joined the two men in the entryway, to the shock of both of them. He was carrying a tommy gun and inserting a long magazine into it as he came around the corner. On his waist was a web belt with a .45 pistol. Over his head and under one arm was a musette bag carrying spare magazines. Binoculars hung around his neck.
“Well, I will be dipped in … Lead, where in hell did you get that?” Third asked, his mouth hanging open.
“Auto-Ordnance 100th Anniversary Matched set,” Leadfather replied, with a smile. “Beauty, isn’t she? Both take .45 ACP. I brought about ten cases of that, by the way.”
The three women came to see what the commotion was in the hallway. Maria and Monica’s eyes went wide at the sight of Leadfather, but Margie just laughed. “Taking your Chicago Typewriter for a walk, are you?” Leadfather laughed and nodded.
“I thought we’d take a little walk up the hill, see what 160 looked like,” Third said to Maria. “Don’t expect trouble, but better to have these and not need them than the other way around.”
“You three be careful or my friends and I will strangle the lot of you,” Maria warned with a smile. Monica and Margie nodded their heads in support.
“Over the Mountains of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride boldly ride, the shade replied, In search of El Dorado,” Third said solemnly, with a smile. “Let’s go.”
“Always trust a man who can quote from a John Wayne movie,” Leadfather laughed.
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Post by papaof2 on Aug 4, 2016 15:51:37 GMT -6
Empty vacation neighborhood? Yeah sure its got lots of salvage potential, but talk about creepy silence... Living in a 40 year old all-brick house (with much newer double pane windows) makes for a relatively quiet neighborhood ;-) Not quite the vacation quiet of near-zero traffic, but if the TV is on and the fridge or freezer is running, the outside noise is greatly masked. If I need to hear what's going on outside. I have a couple of cameras with microphones that also have IR for night vision. One is an outdoor camera and the second could be placed in a wide mouth mason jar (a large glass pickle jar would also work) and mounted under the bay window for better weather protection. Currently the cameras are all inside and looking out windows - there is motion sensing software on a couple of PC's but it can't distinguish between a person walking and a tree limb moving in the wind :-( Still researching options on that. Neighborhood salvage. If medications ran short, the neighbor who's retired because of his heart problems wouldn't last long; neither the much older neighbors on the south side. If transportation is interrupted, most of the neighborhood would likely be hungry in a few days. Having 3 grocery stores within a mile or so probably means there are no large stocks of food or other consumables in the houses. If power is interrupted, water would be gone in a day or so and portions of the County sewer system would shut down (15 pumping stations and 4 treatment plants that all need power - if you're downhill from the treatment plant, expect the sewer to back up). Our lot is about 1020 feet above sea level. The sewage treatment plant is 774 feet above sea level. How many days does it take for several miles pipe to fill to a level of 250 feet? Or does it all back up into the houses that are at the low end of the pipe? We're not the highest point in the neighborhood, more like 50 feet down from there. Well above any flooding problems (unless we need a ride with Noah ;-) and below the worst of the wind. Salvage items would have to include the water in the covered swimming pool next door and the in-ground pool several houses down. Batteries and gasoline from assorted vehicles. Lawnmower gas cans from garages or backyard sheds. Lawnmower engines plus alternators from vehicles plus vehicle batteries to build 12 volt DC power sources for DC lighting or running inverters for AC power. Car batteries aren't great for that type service but I can cobble together enough inverter power to run the fridge and freezer alternately and power the blower and thermostat on the central heat (if there's natural gas). I'd be looking for alternative power because during the most recent power outage of consequence (16 hours, trees down on lines because of wind) there was only the sound of one generator - the ancient 1750 watt Coleman that I used to cool the fridge and freezer. I also seem to have one of the few chainsaws. There is a fifth wheel RV with slide-outs and a motor home style RV in the neighborhood. The motor home almost certainly came with a decent generator. The fifth wheel might have one. Either RV would be less space to heat and cool than a house (if you can provide propane, generator fuel or other power) and could be parked under trees to reduce the amount of cooling needed. There are a number of houses with fireplaces so there is some amount of firewood available (we have two fireplaces). I'm not aware of any solar installations in the neighborhood. I have three 100 watt panels for a future project but they aren't enough for much more than cell phone and laptop charging and occasional internet access (if it's available). If there was a solar house, the panels and batteries might be a salvage item or the easier option might be to move to that house - roof mounted panels are difficult to move, big batteries are heavy and I don't need any more titanium parts in my back. Maybe a bucket truck for moving the solar panels and a forklift for the batteries? As often happens, I've given a response that's ten times the size of the original comment.
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Post by papaof2 on Aug 4, 2016 16:05:01 GMT -6
"If you are in the greater Detroit or Windsor area, or within 100 miles to the west"
Aren't the prevailing winds there going west to east as that's how weather fronts move?
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 4, 2016 16:29:30 GMT -6
"If you are in the greater Detroit or Windsor area, or within 100 miles to the west" Aren't the prevailing winds there going west to east as that's how weather fronts move? And this is why I was never a weatherman. Thanks!
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 4, 2016 22:44:17 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 24
Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 26, 2020 – Noon
“Some hill, Third,” Leadfather puffed as they walked southwest up the “hill” behind Third’s house. “How high up are we?”
“The house is 5,600 feet,” Third replied, puffing pretty good himself. “We’re right about 6,100 feet right now. Want to take a look?”
“Very much so, as long as we can do it sitting down,” Leadfather replied. “I’m not used to hiking with this Thompson gun and spare mags.”
The three men sat down on the slope, Leadfather handing the Thompson to Jose and picking up the binoculars from around his neck. He looked to his left and focused on the roof of his saloon, then followed the 160 until it ran out of sight to the east.
“See anything, Lead?” Third asked.
“160 out of Vegas is packed solid, both lanes. A couple of cars heading into town, but not many. A few are turning up Mt. Potosi Canyon Road,” Leadfather replied, handing the binoculars to Third.
Third focused on the spot and watched a truck with trailer make the turn. “Probably headed for one of the camps southeast of here – Kimball Scout Camp, or the Methodist camp at Potosi Pines.” He lowered the binoculars and handed them to Jose, who confirmed the sight.
The three men got back to the house in good order just before 2 PM. After putting their weapons away (but where they’d be easily accessible if needed), they briefed the women on what they saw and were in turn advised that dinner would be about 3 PM and they were welcome to have one of Leadfather’s Indian Pale Ale, some chips and to relax in the living room (ergo, to stay out of their way).
“Guess we ought to turn on the TV for a while,” Third said reluctantly, “just to see if there’s still a world out there.”
Third switched the TV on and flipped over to CNN. General Dunston was just beginning a damage assessment briefing from wherever he and President Clinton had evacuated to.
“The most current assessment from NORAD and U.S. Space Command is that this was a ground-burst fission device with a yield of 10 kilotons. Satellite imagery shows that ground zero was between Ford Field and Comerica Park. The fireball was approximately 200 meters across and encompassed the two facilities.
“The area of total destruction, with a blast overpressure of 20 psi, had a radius of nearly 500 meters and included the Detroit Opera House, the 75/375 interchange, and the Hall of Justice.
“The area of moderate to severe damage, with a blast overpressure of 5 psi, with a radius of 1 kilometer from ground zero, included the neighborhoods of Fort/Cass, Foxtown, Lafayette Park and Eastern Market.
“The area of lethal prompt radiation, within which persons surviving the blast would receive a dose of 500 REM, with a radius of one and one quarter kilometers, included Lafayette Towers, Lafayette Central Park, the Chrysler Freeway, the MGM Grand Detroit, and Mack Avenue/Martin Luther King Drive.
“The area of severe thermal radiation burns, in which unprotected persons in direct line-of-sight to the detonation would receive 3rd degree burns, with a radius of nearly one and one half kilometers, extended to the Detroit River in the south, Highway 10 in the west, the western edge of Elmwood Central Park in the east, and to [clearing his throat] Children’s Hospital of Michigan in the north.
“The fallout pattern extended to Grosse Point Park in the north, to the Tecumseh neighborhood of Windsor in the south, and is expected to travel east to Lake Erie in the east, in the vicinity of Morpeth and Rondeau Park. We are coordinating our rescue and relief operations with the Canadian government and Canadian Forces Command, as so much of the fallout pattern covers Canadian territory.
“At this time, fatalities are estimated to be in the vicinity of 80,000. Approximately three-quarters of these are from the sold-out Lions-Vikings game at Ford Field. The latest report I have projects nearly 50,000 casualties, most of those blast and burn victims.
“The FAA and NORAD have reviewed satellite and radar records and are one hundred percent positive that neither a missile nor aircraft was involved. This was a ground-delivered ground burst weapon. The Defense Department is coordinating with the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security to determine the source of this weapon.
“I have nothing further to tell you right now. Circumstances permitting, I will brief again at 0900 hours tomorrow morning. That is all.”
The anchor went on with the rest of the news. Satellite imagery from military and civilian sources showed the impact of the damage. CNN’s chief meteorologist was on every 15 minutes with an update on wind patterns in the Great Lakes area. The crawl on the bottom of the screen, a staple of cable news since the September 11th attacks 19 years before, contained more information than the talking heads.
NFL GAMES POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE … CARGO SHIPS PROHIBITED FROM DOCKING IN U.S. UNTIL INSPECTION PROTOCOL IN PLACE … ALL INTERNATIONAL FLIGHTS BANNED FROM U.S. AIRSPACE INDEFINITELY … BURN PATIENTS FROM DETROIT BEING SHIPPED ACROSS U.S. … NO RESPONSE FROM CHINA TO NUCLEAR EXPLOSION …
Third shook his head, changing the channel to KSNV News 3, Las Vegas. “Let’s see what’s going on in poor ol’ Vegas.”
Outbound traffic reported was heavy on all freeways heading out of Las Vegas – 95 and 93 north towards central Nevada, 95 and 93 south towards Arizona and California, and I-15 towards Salt Lake to the east and California to the west.
“Why would people be heading towards a big city?” Jose asked, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t people be safer sheltering where they were?”
“Panic,” Leadfather replied. “It’s not so much where they’re going as what they’re getting away from. I wouldn’t be surprised if people from Vegas were passing people from LA, Flagstaff and Salt Lake City heading TO Vegas.”
“Of course,” Third pointed out, “if anything else DOES happen now, most of those people will be caught out in the open, in the middle of nowhere, and probably with nothing.”
“Anybody up for another?” Leadfather asked as he stood up and collected the empties.
“I’m good until after dinner,” Third replied, a sentiment echoed by Jose. “Say, that’s an excellent pale ale, Lead. Where’d you find it?”
“My beer distributor comped me a couple of six-packs, see if my customers might like it,” Lead replied with a laugh. “My guys are more a Bud on tap kinda crowd – you know how they roll, Third. Anyway, they didn’t sell, so I tried one myself; turns out they’re a darn sight better than Bud. So I order a six-pack a week, just to keep myself stocked.”
“You’ll have to try some Glenlivet 18 with me after dinner,” Third said. “Granddad and I used to sit out on the front porch, regardless of the weather, and have a drink and a cigar together after dinner.” Third paused, lost in good memories. “I’ve been doing that by myself for 15 years now – at least until I met Maria. Now she sits out there with me, tolerates the cigar and has coffee or whiskey with a water back.”
Leadfather carried the three empties out to the kitchen and called out “Dinner’s ready, guys!”, eliciting a rapid response from Jose and Third.
The rarely-used dining room table was done up to the nines today, set for six with crystal, china and sterling silver that belonged to Third’s great-grandmother and then to Katie, his grandmother. Everyone took their plate and served themselves in the kitchen, buffet style, before sitting down in the dining room. By unanimous consent, the TV was turned off. If anything urgent occurred, the EAS signal would come over the NOAA Weather Radio; anything else could wait until after dinner.
Third, not the most religious man in the world, asked everyone to stand and take hands for a prayer.
“Father in Heaven, thank you for the blessings you have bestowed upon us – our family, our friends, our food and shelter, peace when so many are not at peace. Bless our nation in its times of trouble. This we ask in the name of Jesus, Amen.”
For the next hour, there was no talk of the economy, the stock market, or Detroit or anything negative. Good friends and good food were the order of the afternoon. Everyone had seconds, but nobody was willing or able to attempt a third serving. By the time the leftovers were put away and the dishes done, however, everyone was ready for coffee and pie, which they took into the living room.
After dessert, the three couples gathered again at the dining room table for a few hands of penny-ante 5-card draw poker. Everyone started with 100 pennies from an old pipe tobacco tin filled with pennies. Monica mentioned that she had never played poker before, but everyone assured her that she’d do fine and they’d help her along to learn the game. As usually happens when one person is a novice at the game, Monica picked up on the rules of poker very quickly and won several hands, knocking Third, Maria, Jose and Margie out of the game.
The final hand was between Monica and Leadfather. After the cards were dealt, Monica whispered a question in Jose’s ear, pointing to her cards, and Jose nodded. She took three cards and Leadfather two. Leadfather, being down considerably to Monica, went all in. Another whispered question to Jose, another nod of the head, and Monica called. Third laid down his cards, showing a king-high flush in clubs. Monica smiled and laid her cards down, one at a time: 2 of diamonds, ace of clubs, ace of spades, ace of diamonds, ace of hearts.
Leadfather’s jaw dropped. He glanced at his cards, at her cards, and back at his. After a good 15 seconds of silence, a smile broke across his face and he started laughing – a hearty, good-natured laugh – and with seconds, everyone – including Monica – was laughing with him.
“Thirty years of playing poker, and I have never ever seen somebody draw two aces to two aces,” Leadfather said, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. “Monica, that was beautiful. Thank you.” He started clapping, quickly joined by the others, and Monica blushed about eight shades of red.
7 PM – On the front porch
The ladies were sitting around the kitchen table talking and drinking coffee; Third, Leadfather, and Jose were sitting on the front porch, each with a Romeo y Julieta Reserve Maduro Churchill cigar and a “wee dram” of Glenlivet 18. Though the night air was cold, the men were as warm with good whiskey, a good cigar, and good friendship.
As Third and his granddad used to do, the porch light was off. The only light was the moon and the glow of three cigars.
“What’s tomorrow going to bring, Third?” Leadfather asked quietly.
“God only knows, Lead,” Third replied, puffing on his cigar. “I’d give a year’s pension for the answer to that question.”
“I’ve got a hunch it won’t be good,” said Leadfather. “But then again, I’ve been wrong before.”
“Like going all-in against Monica?” Jose said with a smile in his voice.
The three men laughed.
“Exactly, Jose, just so,” Leadfather replied. “I may just stake that girl if there’s a World Series of Poker next year.”
The men grew silent at the idea that there might not be a WSOP in 2021, reminding them of the relative tenuousness of their situation.
Leadfather put his cigar down and leaned forward, looking off in the direction of the tarped pile of wood.
“What’s the matter, Lead?” Third asked, sensing Leadfather’s change of posture.
“I think there’s someone moving around out there.”
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Post by willc453 on Aug 5, 2016 1:50:30 GMT -6
Detroit nuked? Can you say INSTANT urban renewal? Attachments:
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 5, 2016 11:25:43 GMT -6
Detroit nuked? Can you say INSTANT urban renewal? In PAW fiction, nukes solve everything! (Says the man who almost wrote a "plutonium divorce" in "A Difference of Opinion".)
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 5, 2016 11:32:56 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 25
Jose and Third put their cigars down as well and, now in total darkness on the porch, leaned forward to look and listen.
“I heard that,” Third exclaimed. “A rustling sound, like someone was fooling around with the tarp. Jose, think you could squeeze inside without letting too much light out and get our guns from the front closet? There should be a flashlight right there as well.”
Without speaking, Jose (who was sitting closest to the door), carefully got up, opened the door ever-so-slightly and slid inside. A minute later, he was back with his and Third’s pistols, Leadfather’s web belt, and a flashlight.
“Jose, why don’t you and I get down by the bottom of the porch steps,” Third said. “Lead, would you mind taking the flashlight and get by the corner there? Light ‘em up when Jose and I are in position.”
“You got it, Third,” Leadfather replied. “Keep your damn fool head down, ok?”
Third and Jose knelt down and Third gave a little wave to Leadfather, who turned on the flashlight and shined it towards the woodpile, illuminating a man, woman, and two children, sitting against the tarped woodpile.. The man was holding his hand to his head, and Third had a brief flashback of seeing Andy Simone come out his front door just before his death.
“Who are you?” Third called out. “What are you doing down there?”
The woman looked up at the sound of Third’s voice and stood up, despite her husband pulling at her sleeve to sit down.
“Mr. Welderman?” she called out.
Why would someone who knows me be hanging around outside in the near-freezing cold? Third wondered. “Who’s asking?” he replied.
“It’s Linda Arabian, from FirstAmerica Bank. Bill and the girls are here too. Can we come up?”
Now thoroughly confused, Third said, “Come on up here and let’s get inside,” noting that despite their jackets, all four were shivering.
Third opened the front door and yelled, “We’ve got company!” as he led Linda and the girls inside.
“Third, I think Jose and I will hang around out here for a bit, just in case,” Leadfather said. Third waved a hand in acknowledgment and helped Bill in the front door.
“Maria, you remember Linda from the bank where we had the problem with her boss? We met her husband and daughters at Costco.”
“Of course,” she said, taking Bill by the other arm. “Come sit down in the kitchen, Bill, let me take a look at your head.”
The two girls were on each side of their mother and hanging on for dear life.
“What happened, Linda?” Third asked.
“We decided to get out of Vegas after we had Thanksgiving dinner this afternoon,” Linda explained. “My sister & her family live on the north edge of Pahrump and she invited us to stay with her until things resolve themselves.” Monica poured coffee for Bill and Linda, and Linda paused to take a sip. Margie was getting hot chocolate for the two girls.
“Traffic was moving really slow up the 160 here, I think there was an accident. Anyway, the girls needed a pit stop, so Bill pulled over at a trailhead or something, a wide spot where a bunch of trails all came together.”
“Sounds like Mater Dei Place, about half a mile down 160, on the other side,” Third said quietly.
“That sounds like it,” Linda agreed. “Anyway, the girls did their business behind a bush. Truth be told, I needed to go too. I had just finished when two guys came out of nowhere and started to get into our car. Bill ran over to stop them. One of the guys clubbed Bill with a pistol, got the keys from his pocket and took off one of the trails off to the north.”
“How did you end up here?” Third asked.
“I had seen your address at the bank and thought you were in the general area, but didn’t know exactly where,” Linda said. “We got turned around in the dark, and you know, there aren’t a lot of street lights or signs out here.”
Maria had her first aid bag and was cleaning up and bandaging the side of Bill’s forehead, near the left temple. “This might need a couple stitches, but I cleaned it up as best I could.”
“I’ll call 911 and report the carjacking,” Third said and reached for the phone. “Linda, could you write down your license plate number and the make and model of the car? Here’s a pad and pencil.” She nodded, sniffling, wrote down the information and handed it to Third.
Third punched 911 and got through in surprisingly short order. He spoke with the operator a couple minutes, and tossed the handset down on the counter, none too happily.
“What’s they said, Third?” Maria asked.
Third shook his head. “No officer available, no ambulance available. They took the information down and will put it in their system. Linda, do you want to call your sister, let her know what happened?”
Linda nodded, took the handset Third handed her, and punched the number from memory.
“Bill, you want to stretch out in one of the easy chairs in here, get some rest?” Third offered.
“Thanks, Third, I’d like that,” Bill said as he got up carefully, still feeling a little wobbly and sat down in Third’s recliner.
“How’s Vegas been the last few days, Bill?” Third asked.
“Bad – hardly any gas and the prices are sky high, regardless of our Dear Leader’s price controls,” he said quietly, his eyes closed. “Markets aren’t getting resupplied, so the shelves are about empty. People are running out of cash too, with banks and ATMs down. We hunkered down at home since the bank closed.”
The two men sat quietly for a while until Linda came into the room, her eyes wet. “Charlie’s coming to pick us up within the hour,” she reported. “He’ll stop by Desert View ER on the way back and we’ll get you checked out, hon.”
“Aw, I’ll be okay, Linda. Maria did a fine job of bandaging me up,” Bill said, his hand touching the bandage.
“Bill, we will be stopping at Desert View ER and you will get checked out,” Linda replied with a sound of steel in her tone. “Do we understand each other?”
Bill wisely uttered those two words which have saved husbands’ lives throughout time immemorial.
“Yes dear.”
An hour later – 8:30 PM, Thanksgiving night
As promised, Linda’s brother-in-law showed up about 40 minutes after talking to Linda and got a royal greeting from Linda, Bill and the girls, who were particularly happy to see “Uncle Charlie.” Third noted Charlie had a web belt with a .45 pistol & holster on the right side and two magazine pouches on the left.
Linda introduced Charlie to Third and Third got a vigorous handshake. “Can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Third. My wife, too.”
“Glad to be of service, Charlie. How was the traffic coming up here?”
“No traffic at all coming toward Vegas. Still a fair number of cars going out of town, toward Pahrump,” Charlie reported and then grinned. “I daresay the drive back will take a bit longer though.”
“Well, don’t forget to stop at the ER – to keep Bill safe from Linda, if nothing else,” Third joked.
“Determined woman is our Linda,” Charlie agreed. “Well, I think the gang is ready to go so I’ll get them out of your hair, Third. Thanks again. Give me a call if you ever get out our way once everything settles down.”
“Will do, Charlie,” Third replied as they walked out the front door to Charlie’s Suburban, where Bill, Linda and the girls were already belted in. “Bill, keep your head down. Linda, hope to see you at the bank someday soon.”
“I hope so too, Third. Thanks again. Girls, say thank you.”
Two voices in the back seat yelled out in unison: “THANK YOU, UNCLE THIRD.”
Charlie started the engine and made a U-turn to head back towards 160. Third watched until they turned off his street and went back inside.
Everyone was hanging around in the kitchen, finishing the coffee. Maria handed Third a mug. “Saved the last for you, honey.”
“Thanks, Maria,” Third replied as he took a sip. “Ah, that’s good. I think it’s gonna be a three dog night tonight.” He smiled.
“What’re you grinning about, Third?” Maria asked.
“I wonder if rescuing Linda and Bill counts as our third,” he replied.
“Third what, Third?” Maria said without thinking and then laughed at the funny-sounding question.
“There was a guy who went by the online name of Tired Old Man who wrote a lot of PAW fiction, stories about nuclear war or a pandemic or a volcanic eruption,” Third explained. “Anyway, he had a rule that disasters come in threes. Well, we had the economic collapse, the bomb in Detroit, and now Linda. There’s our three.”
“I’ve read some of his stuff, Third,” Leadfather mentioned. “Didn’t he also have a rule against tempting fate by saying things like that?”
“I guess he did at that, Lead,” Third admitted.
“You’re forgetting our apartment building fire,” said Jose, leaning against the kitchen counter with an arm around Monica’s shoulder. “That makes Linda number four.”
“That’s right,” Third admitted. “And we lost Andy and Gloria, too. So that makes Linda number five.”
“Which means,” Maria pointed out, “we’ve got one more ‘something’ coming.”
“And on that happy note,” Third said, as he gave Maria a kiss on the cheek, “I think it’s time for bed. Lead, you and Margie can take our room.”
Both Leadfather and Margie started to protest but were interrupted by Jose, who offered to sleep on the couch so they could take his room.
Finally Margie put two fingers to her mouth and let out a whistle that very nearly caused the kitchen windows to shake in their frames. Everyone went quiet.
“Enough of this! Lead and I are not kicking anybody out of their bedrooms,” Margie said sternly. “If you’ve got a couple extra blankets, we’ll do just fine down here.”
Third looked at Leadfather, who just shrugged. “Take your chances. I’m not arguing with her.”
Maria quickly got extra blankets and pillows from the linen closet upstairs, and everyone said goodnight, all wondering if Tired Old Man’s rule of three would hold up.
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Post by 9idrr on Aug 5, 2016 22:17:46 GMT -6
Think Margie could've been a DI at one time? Sounds to me as though she tells it like she thinks it is and nobody better disagree.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 7, 2016 14:57:31 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 26
Friday, November 27, 2020 – Black Friday – 8:00 AM
The Welderman household was quiet on Black Friday morning. Nobody was going shopping at midnight for early Christmas “bargains,” due partly to the economic situation and the potential threat to Las Vegas, as much as to the fact that nobody in the Welderman household liked fighting crowds or wasting money.
Leadfather and Margie had gotten up first and been going ever since. Leadfather folded up the blankets they had used and placed them in the corner, with the pillows. Margie had gotten coffee going and started the prep work for breakfast – everything but the actual cooking.
Third and Maria had come downstairs first, followed in fairly short order by Monica and Jose. The coffeemaker was on its third pot, and the Oggi Pumpmaster was full to the brim, a situation which was quickly ameliorated by four caffeine junkies coming downstairs. Margie was looking at the paper, which was its usual size and not the overstuffed monstrosity of a typical Black Friday. There was, of course, nothing typical about today.
“I assume Huevos Rancheros is all right with everybody,” Leadfather said, as he cracked eggs into a pan all greased and heated up. Plates were lined up on the counter, salsa was bubbling in a saucepan, and corn tortillas were ready to be run through another heated pan.
“Well, if you insist,” Third said, “I guess that’ll be okay, Lead.”
Maria walked to where Leadfather was working and looked over his shoulder at the stove. “Fresh salsa, Lead?” she exclaimed. “How long have you been up, anyway?”
Leadfather smiled. “Not all that long. Margie is an excellent sous chief. She took care of prepping the tomatoes and onions, and makes sure I don’t put too much chili powder in the salsa.”
“And I still think you sneak some powder in there when I’m not looking,” Margie grumbled good-naturedly as she refilled her coffee.
The Review-Journal that Margie had been perusing, and which the others were now glancing through, was filled with stories and pictures on the bombing of Detroit and on the economic crisis that had preceded it. Some analysts were speculating that the Chinese stood to benefit from the explosion, the thinking being that the U.S. would be too preoccupied with relief and recovery efforts to continue an economic war against China. A spokesman for the Chinese Foreign Ministry in Beijing dismissed such speculation as “utterly contemptible,” and offered its assistance to Washington as needed. A State Department spokesman, speaking from an undisclosed location, thanked the Chinese government for the offer but refused to comment if it would be taken up.
“What do you think, Third?” Jose asked, after looking at the front section of the paper. “Was China behind the bomb?”
Third shook his head. “I doubt it, Jose – if there was even a hint of it, the missiles would have been flying already.” He paused to take a sip of coffee. “I think the bombing was an al-Qaeda or ISIS operation, and the timing was just coincidental. The Detroit ‘operation’ was probably in the works long before the economic collapse this week.”
“So what happens now?” Monica asked.
“I imagine U.S. and Chinese intelligence are already having long conversations, comparing notes on which group and perhaps which nation were behind Detroit,” Third said, looking at the huge headlines and horrific photos in the paper. “Of course, I could be wrong, and the missilemen at the silos are going through their final checklist.”
“And on that cheerful thought,” Margie chimed in, as she sat steaming plates before Third and Maria, “breakfast is ready.” Leadfather brought over plates for Jose and Monica, and then he and Margie sat down to eat. For a few minutes, the topics of China and Detroit were pushed aside, if not forgotten.
“Leadfather, that was amazing!” Maria exclaimed. “How’d you ever learn to cook like that?”
“Blame her,” Leadfather pointed a thumb at Margie. “She wouldn’t get involved with a man who could only burn water in the kitchen, so I had to up my cooking game a couple notches. Well worth it, though.”
“He’s improved quite a bit,” Margie agreed. “Used to be we had to serve Pepcid AC as a side dish. Now it’s only an after-dinner mint.” Everyone, including Leadfather, laughed.
“Well, I’m going back up to get cleaned up and dressed,” Third said, as he stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “I want to get the rest of that wood stacked and tarped.”
“Unless you need us here, Third,” Leadfather said, “Margie and I are going to head over to the saloon. Might actually have some customers today, and if not, there’s always something to do over there.”
“Not a problem, Lead,” Third replied. “You two going to come back over here tonight, or do you want to load up your truck?”
“I thought we’d leave our stuff over here, Third, at least for the weekend,” Leadfather replied. “If that’s okay. Just until we’re sure that World War III isn’t in the cards.”
“Again, not a problem, Lead,” Third said. “You’re welcome as long as you want to put up with us.”
“Or you keep cooking like you did this morning,” Maria chimed in.
“A host of friends,” Leadfather said, laughing. “I have a host of friends.”
“Oh God, not ‘El Dorado’ again,” Margie said with an exaggerated eye roll.
“That’s it,” Leadfather sighed, “I’m putting asafetida in your coffee.”
“I’m not as good with a knife as Alan Bourdillion Traherne,” Margie said roughly, but with a glimmer in her eye, “but I can get the job done if needs must.”
“Alan Bourdillion Ter-who?” Third chimed in.
“Ter-hane,” Leadfather corrected.
“Tra-hearne!” Margie said in mock frustration.
“Tra-hearne,” Third and Leadfather said in unison.
Jose had seen El Dorado and was laughing along with Third, Leadfather & Margie; neither Maria nor Monica had, however, and were by this point thoroughly confused. “Leadfather,” Third said, wiping his eyes, “we need a movie night tonight.”
“El Dorado, I hope,” Leadfather replied.
“Ride boldly ride,” Margie added.
A couple of hours later
Leadfather and Margie headed back to the saloon. Everyone else went outside to work on the woodpile. Maria and Monica would load the wheelbarrow and a hand cart Third had gotten from the outbuilding, then Third and Jose would move the wood to the desired location. Once the big pile of wood was dispersed, the wood would be properly stacked and tarped. By noon, the big pile was gone and Third, with Maria’s assistance, finished tarping the last pile.
Jose and Monica put away the wheelbarrow and hand cart and took a rake, shovel, and bucket to police up the area where the wood had been dumped.
“Whew!” Third said, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. Despite the cool temperature, and taking off his outer jacket early, Third had worked up a head of steam with the work.
“Third!” Jose yelled from where he and Monica were working. “We’ve got company!”
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 7, 2016 15:06:14 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 27
“Maria, get our pistols from the front closet, please,” Third said as he jogged down towards Jose and Monica’s location. “And come out the back way, too!” he yelled after her, getting a wave in acknowledgment.
Jose and Monica had stepped back towards Third’s tarped Cadillac to avoid being seen. Third stepped up next to Jose and watched the visitors.
At the other end of Third’s street, a Ford F150 towing a fifth wheel trailer pulled partway down the street and was idling. The driver got out and walked to the back of the fifth wheel, looked around, and got back in the truck cab. He put the truck in reverse and slowly backed up, expertly maneuvering the trailer into the far corner of the extra-wide driveway.
A man, woman, and two children got out of the pickup truck. The woman and children stepped back out of the way while the man chock-blocked the fifth wheel, unhooked the truck, and pulled the truck forward a couple feet. The man gave a thumbs up, the woman and children came over and the family started unloading boxes, bags, and suitcases from the fifth wheel.
Maria tapped Jose and Third on the shoulders and handed them their pistols. Maria already had hers clipped to her waistband.
“Looks like they’re planning to stay, Third,” Jose called out, pointing down the street. “You recognize ‘em?”
“Don’t know their names, but I’ve seen the pickup and fifth wheel before,” Third said. “They come up several times a year, for holidays and particularly hot weekends.”
“Maria, let’s get cleaned up a bit and walk down and greet our neighbors,” Third suggested. “Jose, why don’t you and Monica wait here for a bit? We don’t want them to think we mean them any harm.”
“And if they mean harm?” Jose asked.
“Well, in that case,” Third replied, “at least you won’t get shot first.” Third had a taste for dark humor sometimes.
A few minutes later, cleaned up after a couple hours of handling firewood, Third and Maria walked down the middle of the street towards the new arrivals.
The woman was the first to notice them, pulling her husband’s arm and pointing down the street. The man reached into the truck cab and brought out a large rifle, holding the weapon at the ready, but not aiming it directly at them. At the sight of the man’s rifle, Third stopped in his tracks.
The woman got the children into the house through the garage door, which quickly closed. A moment later, Third could see movement at the front door, and the woman stepped outside with a shotgun, closing the door behind her and racking a round.
“Oh crap,” Third said. “Unless I’m imagining things, that guy’s holding a BAR.”
“A bar?” Maria asked, sensing Third’s tension.
“Browning Automatic Rifle,” Third explained. “A man-portable machine gun, in other words.”
“Machine gun?” Maria said. “Oh crap is right.”
“Wave,” Third said to Maria, and the two of them waved at the man and woman.
The man and woman visibly relaxed, but did not put down their long arms. Third and Maria walked closer, and Third called out, “Hello, neighbor! Okay if we come up?”
The man called out, “Come ahead!” and Third and Maria did so, stopping again at the end of the driveway.
The woman stayed at the front door, but the man came down to see them, holding the rifle (it was indeed a B.A.R.) in his left hand and extending his right. “Frank Kosinski Junior, at your service. You wouldn’t be John Welderman the Third by any chance, would you?”
“I would indeed,” Third replied as they walked forward and he took Frank's hand , “but how did you know that? Oh, forgive my manners, this is my wife, Maria.”
“It’s okay hon,” Frank called over to his wife, “it’s Welderman.” The woman went inside, closing the front door. A few seconds later the garage door opened, and the woman (sans shotgun) and two children came out.
“Hon, this is John Welderman the Third and his wife Maria,” Frank said. “John, Maria, this is my wife Kellye and our kids, Frank the Third and Martina.”
“Ma’am, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Third said as he shook hands with Kellye and then with the kids. “Hello Martina, Frank. You know, I’m a Third too, Frank.”
The children, both about twelve and obviously twins, were very well-mannered and polite, Third noted, with a proper handshake and good manners.
“Where’d you come from, Frank, Vegas?” Maria asked.
Frank nodded his head. “We live over in Rhodes Ranch, near the Country Club. My dad built this place back in the 70s. We kept it as a vacation home after my folks passed a few years ago.”
“But how’d you know who I was, Frank?” Third asked. “Forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met before.”
Frank and Kellye both laughed. “My folks knew your grandparents, Third.” Frank paused. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said John.”
Third and Maria both laughed. “Third is okay, Frank. I’m not near as sensitive about that as I used to be.”
The younger Frank spoke up. “The kids at school call me Third because they know I don’t like it. It’s better than Frankie, though.”
“I was the same way for a long time,” Third said. “But over time, you won’t mind Third or Frankie as much.” Third looked over at Maria and smiled. “Especially if the right person says it to you.”
“My brother and his girl are staying with us,” Maria said to Frank. “Is it okay if they come down?”
“Sure it is,” Frank Jr. replied. “It’s good to be around people that aren’t trying to hurt us or take our stuff.”
Maria and Third turned and waved up the street. They could see Jose and Monica wave in reply and head down their way.
“How were things in Vegas?” Third asked.
“A lot of fires and shooting,” Frank replied, as Kellye shook her head at the memories. “We’re in a gated community next to the golf course, so that helped. We locked down at home Monday night and didn’t leave until this morning. Traffic out of town had dropped off quite a bit, so it only took an hour or so to get here.”
Jose and Monica joined the gathering and introductions were made all around.
“Can we give you a hand getting settled in, Frank?” Third offered.
“It’s not really necessary, but we’d appreciate it,” Frank replied.
As gatherings always seemed to do, this one broke up into men and women. The men had the fifth wheel unloaded in practically no time at all, while the women opened up the house, got beds made, and at Kellye’s direction, got a lunch pulled together.
Third noticed several of the boxes were from Emergency Essentials and looked at Frank with a knowing smile. “Frank, you want these down in the basement?” Frank Jr. looked over and saw Third with the Emergency Essential boxes and smiled. “That’d be great, thanks.”
Frank closed up the fifth wheel and they carried the last boxes down to the basement. As they put everything down, Frank asked Third if they’d had any problems up there.
“No problems and no people,” Third said. “Maria, Jose and I have been alone up here since the 13th. Monica joined us when there was a fire at her and Jose’s apartment building this past Monday. Only real trouble was last night, when the assistant manager of one of the banks I used showed up with her husband and kids. They got car-jacked and stumbled around in the dark for a while, trying to find our place.”
Frank Jr. stopped in his tracks. “Twin girls?” he asked quietly.
Third nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Linda and Bill Arabian; the girls are Lori and Brenda.”
“Everyone okay?”
“Bill got pistol-whipped and was bleeding from the head; otherwise, I think everyone was just cold and scared,” Third explained, wondering why Frank Jr. was worried about Linda. “Her brother-in-law picked them up and was taking them home, after Bill got checked out at the ER in Pahrump.”
Frank Jr. extended his hand and Third took it, still confused. “Thanks for taking care of them,” Frank Jr. said quietly. “Linda works for me. I’m the general manager of First America Bankcorp.”
“Well, if it isn’t a small world!” Third marveled. “Linda’s always been a pleasure to talk to at the bank, very helpful too.” Without thinking, Third added, “Too bad the same can’t be said for that branch manager.”
Frank Jr. smiled ruefully. “You too? I knew hiring that guy was a mistake.”
“A friend of mine kind of tipped us off that something might be happening, so we went in to get as much cash out as we could. Your guy gave us a really hard time – what were we doing, three day notice, IRS forms and all that,” Third explained. “Finally, we had to threaten to pull everything out of your bank to get $100,000. We went in a second time and Linda took care of us right away, no problems. The manager was nowhere to be seen.”
Frank Jr. had been shaking his head the whole time Third talked about the manager, and his face and neck were getting red; when Third finished, Frank Jr.’s face and neck were about as red as his Ford F150, and Third was wondering if he’d said the wrong thing.
“Well, I’m sorry about the way you were treated, Third,” Frank Jr. said, “but you won’t have to worry about him any more.”
“You fired him?” Third asked.
“I’ve been tempted to, but he’s related to the wife,” Frank Jr explained. “But he resolved the matter for me.”
“What happened?”
Frank Jr. smiled. “Would you believe he cleaned us out?”
Third’s mouth hung open. “The bank manager robbed the bank?” he said in astonishment.
“Technically it was embezzlement, I guess, but robbed works too. When we got the emergency closure order from the FDIC on Tuesday, he collected up the cash drawers and put them in the safe, advanced everyone a week’s pay and sent them home,” Frank Jr. explained. “Standard procedure in that kind of situation. But then, when he was alone, he filled up a gym bag with as much cash as he could stuff inside it, locked up the branch, and disappeared. Nobody’s seen him since.”
“Son of a -” Third sputtered.
“Yeah, he was that, and a gold-plated one, too,” Frank Jr. replied, “who now has a federal warrant hanging over his head. Knowing that bum, his mouth will probably get him shot before he can spend a penny of it.”
“Frank, I have to ask,” Third said, “but is that a Browning Automatic Rifle you’re holding?”
“It is, Third, a genuine M1918A2,” Frank Jr. noted. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
“It’s a beaut, all right,” Third agreed. “Mind if I hold it?”
“Sure, let me just safe and clear it,” Frank Jr. said and did so, dropping the magazine, making sure it was unloaded, and handing it over carefully to Third, who looked it over closely, showed it to Jose, and then handed it back to Frank Jr. “So what’d you think?”
“Heavier than a sonofagun, and that was unloaded and without a magazine,” Third noted, “but a beauty nonetheless. I don’t mean to pry, but, um, aren’t those illegal?”
“If you don’t have the proper Federal tax stamp or a Class III dealer’s license, for sure,” Frank Jr. agreed. “Lucky for me the government doesn’t know anything about it. Or rather, they did until about 1965.”
“Okay, it’s none of my business, Frank, but I have to ask now: How’d you end up with it?”
“My grandfather carried one in Europe in World War II and raved about it every chance he got,” Frank Jr. said. “My dad got hold of one when he was in Vietnam as a Green Beret. He used the hell out of it for five hours at a place called Nam Dong in the summer of ‘64. Said it, along with the Montagnards, saved the outpost and their lives. He loved it so much, when my dad was getting short time in-country, he disassembled it and smuggled it back to the states. It’s been in the family ever since.”
“Frank,” Kellye called from the top of the basement stairs, “would you stop yapping about that thing and bring those good men up here for lunch? I swear you are worse about that gun than your granddad and dad were.”
Frank reloaded and reinserted the magazine as Third and Jose walked up the basement stairs, and put it away. Third wasn’t sure exactly where Frank had locked it up, and was glad he didn’t know, just in case a certain 5-letter federal agency came calling. Frank followed Third and Jose up the stairs after a minute.
“Nothing fancy, I’m afraid,” Kellye said apologetically, “but we’ve got soup and sandwich. Coffee will be done in a minute.”
“Much appreciated, ma’am,” Third said. The kids sat in the living room, using the coffee table and turning on the TV as they sat down. Frank III picked up the remote and thumbed through a bunch of channels, finding nothing but news. He hit the buttons for CNN and sat the remote down with a big teenager sigh.
“So how many people are in the neighborhood now?” Frank Jr. asked as he took a bite of the grilled cheese sandwich.
“We’re it,” Third replied. “The couple that runs the Mountain Springs Saloon will be back over here tonight, but aside from them, we’re it.”
Frank Jr.’s spoon stopped in mid-air. “You mean everybody else is gone?”
“Gone, or went somewhere else, or like you folks, just didn’t make it up here yet,” Third said. “One house down on Benedict may be occupied, but nobody would answer the door. Even the fire station across the road is locked up tight.”
“Hey dad!” Frank III called out. “You better look at this on TV.”
With a sigh, Frank Jr. sat down his sandwich and went into the living room. “What is it, FJ?”
“The guy on CNN,” Frank III said, gesturing to Anderson Cooper, “he said the president would be on momentarily, something about China. He sure looks upset about it.”
“Y’all might want to come in here,” Frank Jr. yelled towards the kitchen. “Something’s happening.”
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Post by mnn2300 on Aug 7, 2016 17:34:08 GMT -6
Great, a cliff hanger........................
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Post by willc453 on Aug 7, 2016 17:37:09 GMT -6
Was thinking of the Detroit nuking and even the dumbest terrorist would realize that Detroit is already a 3rd world $hit hole and nuking it would only improve it. As Joe Bob Terrorist, if I couldn't get near the White House, Congressional/Senate buildings in hopes of killing the majority of our "elected" leaders, I'd go for Wall Street. After all, the people of The Great Satan (U.S.) worships/idolizes money, right? Of course, Vegas wouldn't be nuked, other wise how will I know before hand what paradise is like after becoming a martyr? Wonder what the effect would be in the financial world if something like this did happen. Remember the movie Fail Safe, where the President orders the nuking of NYC, with Empire State Building as ground zero and Walter Matthau coming up with a plan to save as many documents as possible and why?
As to Vietnam & guns, believe me, A LOT of stuff got shipped back home as "souvenirs". One village idiot was shipping parts of an M-16 bit by bit and was doing okay until he told a family member what he was shipping. Yeah, he got busted. One pilot during WW 2 would have parts of his aircraft cast in gold while in China, have them installed, then after flying back to India, have them removed/melted and shipped home. This also included gems such as diamonds, emeralds and rubies.
Don't know about Vegas, but the majority of homes in Reno don't have basements. Only ones that do were built in the early 60's with people using them as a 2nd livingroom or storage area.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 7, 2016 17:41:56 GMT -6
Was thinking of the Detroit nuking and even the dumbest terrorist would realize that Detroit is already a 3rd world $hit hole and nuking it would only improve it. As Joe Bob Terrorist, if I couldn't get near the White House, Congressional/Senate buildings in hopes of killing the majority of our "elected" leaders, I'd go for Wall Street. After all, the people of The Great Satan (U.S.) worships/idolizes money, right? Of course, Vegas wouldn't be nuked, other wise how will I know before hand what paradise is like after becoming a martyr? Wonder what the effect would be in the financial world if something like this did happen. Remember the movie Fail Safe, where the President orders the nuking of NYC, with Empire State Building as ground zero and Walter Matthau coming up with a plan to save as many documents as possible and why? As to Vietnam & guns, believe me, A LOT of stuff got shipped back home as "souvenirs". One village idiot was shipping parts of an M-16 bit by bit and was doing okay until he told a family member what he was shipping. Yeah, he got busted. One pilot during WW 2 would have parts of his aircraft cast in gold while in China, have them installed, then after flying back to India, have them removed/melted and shipped home. This also included gems such as diamonds, emeralds and rubies. Don't know about Vegas, but the majority of homes in Reno don't have basements. Only ones that do were built in the early 60's with people using them as a 2nd livingroom or storage area. Fail-Safe is my favorite Cold War film. Walter Matthau was brilliant as Dr. Groteschele. I agree, Detroit is an A number 1 craphole, but it would be an important psychological target when it was hosting a major event that millions of people would be watching. I assumed basements in Nevada would be about as rare as in California. But the homes in my semi-fictional neighborhood are roughly of that era - Third's granddad built up there in '75, and a few other homes were already there, so it's in the realm of possibility.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 7, 2016 17:44:51 GMT -6
Great, a cliff hanger........................ Have no fear! I'm already a thousand words into Chapter 28. I tend to write at two speeds: that of a snail on a cold day, or at the speed of light. I didn't write for two days, and today I've knocked out 4,600 words and counting.
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Post by 9idrr on Aug 7, 2016 18:26:06 GMT -6
Great! Another cliff hanger! Not as though I need any more reasons to come back for more.
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Post by 9idrr on Aug 7, 2016 18:28:43 GMT -6
Okay, it's been 3 three hours already.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 7, 2016 20:13:30 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 28
Friday, November 27, 2020 – Black Friday – 2 PM
The adults gathered in the living room behind the sofa which the kids were sitting on, soup and sandwiches totally forgotten.
Anderson Cooper was speaking on CNN, and he did look both pale and nervous.
“To repeat, the White House says President Hillary Clinton will be speaking to the American people in moments regarding the ongoing financial and political crisis with China. Our sources in the administration are suggesting that she will tie the dumping of bonds and the Detroit bombing together, ‘laying the blame’, as one source put it, at the feet of the Chinese government.
“CNN Pentagon correspondent Barbara Starr joins us from her office at the Pentagon. Barbara, I understand you have something new for us?”
“Indeed I do, Anderson, and it’s not good news. My sources here are indicating that United States forces worldwide have gone to a DEFCON 2 alert within the past hour in relation to the Chinese situation. Fully armed B-52 and B-2 bombers have been taking off from bases in Louisiana, North Dakota, and Missouri. Supporting tankers are leaving bases in Florida, Kansas, and Washington. Nuclear missile-equipped submarines have been ‘flushed’ from bases in Washington State and Georgia. We took this footage earlier from outside the Pentagon, looking north. You can see helicopters taking off from rooftops all over Washington.”
“Barbara, what in God’s name is going on?”
“Anderson, I can only assume that the China crisis is on the verge of going nuclear. I can also tell you that there are very few people here at the Pentagon, and no senior-ranking officers that I know of. Anderson?”
“Thank you, CNN’s Barbara Starr at the Pentagon. We switch now to President Clinton.”
The image of Anderson Cooper was replaced by a podium bearing the Presidential seal in front of a nondescript blue backdrop. Wherever President Clinton was speaking from, it definitely wasn’t from the Oval Office or the Press Briefing Room, and likely wasn’t from the White House.
“My fellow Americans,
“In the past day, your government has been working feverishly to determine the party or parties responsible for the nuclear device which destroyed downtown Detroit yesterday morning.
“The U.S. intelligence community has developed what I consider to be one hundred percent reliable information that the government of the People’s Republic of China supplied a nuclear weapon to an offshoot of al-Qaeda, and that a PRC-controlled shipping company transported the weapon to the continental United States, where it was then transported by truck to the Dearborn area. Individuals affiliated with the al-Qaeda offshoot transported the weapon by panel truck from Dearborn to its detonation point yesterday morning.
“When confronted via hotline an hour ago, President Jinping denied the accusation and warned the United States against taking precipitous action. Following that conversation, President Jinping placed China’s military forces on full alert and ordered final preparation of their liquid-fueled missiles for launch.
“I can only assume that President Jinping intends to launch a nuclear first-strike against the United States.
“Therefore I have ordered U.S. forces to Defense Condition 2 worldwide. U.S. strategic bombers and tankers are on full airborne alert. All of our nuclear missile submarines in port have conducted an emergency sortie and are currently at sea, with the exception of one vessel which is in drydock.
“Secretary of State Biden is currently in communication with his counterpart in Beijing, in a last-ditch attempt to avert a nuclear exchange.
“To the people of China, I say this: We seek no test of arms. Your national leadership has made a series of foolish choices, resulting in the deaths of many thousands of Americans and the financial destruction of many millions more. Even at this late hour, war can be avoided, if President Jinping wishes to do so.
“To my fellow citizens, I urge you to seek the best available shelter possible in your current location. Do not leave your homes except to seek better shelter. Take what food, water, and other supplies you have with you at this time and get to shelter immediately. Keep your televisions and radios on. Do not use your landline or cell phones except in the most extreme situation.
“I will speak to you again as soon as I possibly can bring you more information. Again, keep your radios and televisions on for a message from me or from the Emergency Alert System.
“God bless you and keep you. Good afternoon.”
The adults and kids were silent. After a minute, Kellye whispered, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” and crossed herself. Maria, Monica and Jose all crossed themselves.
“Time to DAC, Frank?” Kellye asked in a surprisingly calm voice.
“Definitely, my dear,” Frank Jr. said as he kissed his wife on the cheek.
“Okay kids, you heard your dad,” Kellye said, “you know the DAC drill.” Both kids called out “Yes, mom” as they ran upstairs and returned a minute later carrying the suitcases and bags they had brought in from the fifth-wheel an hour before, and heading down to the basement.
Kellye took the cooler that held the refrigerated items, which had actually not been loaded into the refrigerator since their return, and carried it down to the basement.
“What’s DAC, Frank?” Third asked, suspecting he knew the answer already.
“It’s an acronym for Duck And Cover,” Frank Jr. replied. “That’s what they called the old civil defense drill for schools, back in the bad old days of the Cold War. It means we grab everything and head for the basement, which is what I suggest you folks do. I hate to rush you out the door but -”
“No apologies needed, Frank – keep your head down, literally,” Third said as he shook hands with Frank. “You okay for food and whatnot?”
“Pretty good, at least for a while,” Frank Jr. said. “We keep some LTS stuff downstairs all the time, and we brought our home supply with us. Talk about good timing, eh?”
“Indeed, Frank,” Third said. “We’ll be on our way.” Third paused to scribble on a refrigerator pad. “There’s our number if you hear anything. We’ll have our NOAA radio on.”
Frank was filling up pots and containers with water. “Godspeed, Third, folks.” He smiled thinly. “Nice knowing you, just in case.”
“Frank and you share the same sense of humor, Third,” Maria said quietly as they walked quickly, not quite running, back up the street towards their house.
“Jose, grab Andy’s keys and let’s take your Grand Cherokee down there,” Third said as they headed through the front door. “Andy had at least a year’s worth of LTS food and I don’t want to let it go to waste. Grab your rifle, too.”
“Maria, would you and Monica start cleaning out the refrigerator and freezer and moving that stuff down to the shelter?” Third asked. “I better open up the tunnel and the shelter doors.”
“I can do that, Third,” Maria said, hanging onto his arm. “But you better call Leadfather, make sure he and Margie know about the alert.”
“Good thinking,” Third replied as he picked up the phone and speed-dialed the number.
The phone picked up on the second ring. “Mountain Springs Saloon and we’re closing, maybe for the last time,” Margie said.
“It’s Third, Margie. Just wanted to make sure you heard the news, which it seems you have.”
“We did but thanks for calling anyway. Lead’s locking up and we’ll be on the way to you in five.”
“Okay, Margie, good luck. See you in a bit.” :::click:::
“Third, here’s your rifle,” Jose said, coming into the room. “You ready?”
“Yeah, let’s haul ass,” Third said as he hung up the phone. “I want to be back here in 15 minutes tops, whether we’ve got everything or not.”
“Take this with you, Third,” Maria said, unplugging the rechargeable NOAA radio. “You hear an alert, you get back here or I’ll wring your neck, in this life or the next.”
“That goes for you too, pal,” Monica said as he wrapped her arms around Jose and kissed him on the cheek.
Maria turned the living room TV on and switched over to CNN, turning up the volume loud before going downstairs and grabbing a couple of empty Igloo coolers from the basement. The news seemed to be much as before. Someone in the graphics department had already come up with a “US/China Nuclear Showdown” graphics package, which they had apparently been holding in reserve for a rainy day.
Third hit the garage door button on the way out to the Grand Cherokee, and Jose started the engine and shifted to reverse at almost the same moment, tearing out of the garage and missing the garage door bottom by a scant three inches.
“Easy there,” Third said, hanging on for dear life. “Let’s not do that damn Chinaman’s work for him.”
Jose grinned and said “Good thinking, Third,” while only slowing marginally, pulling just past Andy’s and backing up next to the tarped Mercedes.
“I saw the Emergency Essentials stuff stacked in the garage the other day, Third,” Jose said. “Open the garage from the inside and I’ll start loading it up.”
“Okay, Jose,” Third said, jumping out of the Grand Cherokee as it came to an abrupt stop. “I’ll do a quick check of the basement and the house, see if we need anything else.”
Third got inside, opened the garage door for Jose, and then did a very quick check of the house. The basement was empty. The rest of the house looked like a house does where the occupants hadn’t gotten settled in yet. In Andy’s office/den, Third found two oversized briefcases – no, sample cases, Third thought – and on impulse grabbed them – and nearly separated both shoulders due to their weight. What in the – well, no time to look now. Third more carefully picked up the two cases and headed out to the driveway, where Jose all but a few of the Emergency Essentials boxes loaded.
Seeing Third struggling with the weight of the cases, Jose asked “What in the world...” but Third cut him off. “No idea, I didn’t open them. Time for that later.”
Third got the two cases in the Grand Cherokee and helped Jose with the last of the boxes. There was no room for him to sit down.
“Go, Jose, go! I’ll follow you back!” Third slammed the passenger door closed and the Grand Cherokee accelerated away as Third ran after it. Jose had it backed into the open garage and the door coming down before Third made it to his driveway.
Just as Third was going through the front door, Leadfather’s pickup sped to a squealing stop in Third’s driveway. Margie and Lead jumped out and started grabbing things from the back of the truck.
Third turned, closed the front door, and ran to the driveway. He banged on the garage door and yelled for Jose to open it, then went to help Leadfather and Margi.
“I thought you two left everything here,” Third exclaimed as he picked up the two closest boxes. “What’s all this?”
“Grabbed everything we could from the Saloon in five minutes before I locked up the door,” Leadfather replied as he picked up a couple of boxes and put them in the garage by the dumbwaiter. “Mostly food, some booze.”
“Jose, would you go down below and unload stuff as I send it down to you in the dumbwaiter?” Third asked. “Maybe Monica could give you a hand.”
“Will do, Third … and thanks,” Jose said with a grin.
“Monica is his girl, although I’m not sure he realized it before all this blew up – so to speak,” Third explained to Leadfather and Margie.
“He didn’t know it, huh?” Margie said. “It was plain as day when I saw the two of ‘em together.”
“Sometimes us men are the last to know,” Third replied.
With three people working, Leadfather’s truck and Jose’s Grand Cherokee were quickly emptied. Third went downstairs to give Jose a hand in the basement, while Leadfather and Margie finished up in the garage and secured it before coming down below.
Maria came from the living room with her arms full of four zippered media albums, each containing 520 DVDs or CDs. “Just in case we get bored,” she told Third at the base of the basement stairs, when he took the albums from her. “I even remembered to bring El Dorado so we can -”
“Ride, boldly, ride?” Third said with a smile.
“Something like that,” Maria replied. “I think we’re all done upstairs, which, judging by the looks of this basement, is probably a good thing. I don’t know where we’d put anything else.”
“Okay, hon, why don’t you stay down here and get things set up for the six of us in the shelter itself – refrigerated stuff put away, like that,” Third suggested. “I’m going to make one last run through the house, make sure that everything is closed up right, blinds and curtains pulled, etc.”
“Don’t take too long, okay?” Maria said, looking him straight in the eyes and cupping her hand to his face. “I want you next to me if I’m going to be stuck down here for weeks on end.”
“No worries, my dear. I think Barry White said it best,” Third said. “My darling I, can’t get enough of your love, babe.”
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Post by ydderf on Aug 8, 2016 11:23:31 GMT -6
I live in the mountains and deal with cliffs daily. I will be as patient as possible but my F5 key will appreciate a quick posting of the next chapter. Thanks Bruce.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 8, 2016 14:44:31 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 29
Friday, November 27, 2020 – 6 PM
The first few hours in Third’s shelter were occupied with getting everything put away and everyone settled in. A small TV/DVD combo had CNN going constantly and the bulletins were flying fast and furious: The FAA had ordered a complete ground stop of all non-military aircraft nationwide; any unauthorized aircraft would be fired on without question. Passenger train and bus service was halted. The Nuclear Regulatory Commission had ordered the emergency shutdown of the nation’s nuclear power plants
Entertainment television, as such, was off the air until the U.S.-China showdown resolved itself one way or another. Much as they had on September 11, 2001, channels like ESPN and MTV carried the signal of one of the major cable or broadcast news networks.
Local news from Vegas said the obvious: McCarran airport was closed. Most of the casinos were closed, albeit voluntarily. Those few casinos that were open, mainly off the strip, were doing little or no business. Traffic was unusually quiet, as many people had evacuated Vegas and other major cities when Detroit was nuked the previous morning.
As far as actual news on the crisis itself, there was surprisingly little. The confrontation between the U.S. and China didn’t seem to be getting worse, or better, or really doing anything at all. To paraphrase Dean Rusk’s line from the Cuban Missile Crisis, the U.S. and China were eyeball-to-eyeball but nobody was blinking – or doing much of anything, it seemed.
When the first few hours passed with nothing happening, or at least nothing happening that was publicly known, everyone decided by mutual agreement to head back up into the main house. All doors, curtains and blinds were kept closed, in the event McCarran or Nellis were nuked without advance warning; food supplies were left in the basement and would be brought up for each meal as needed. As far as sleeping arrangements, bunks were assigned in the shelter, but people could sleep where they wanted to until the alert came.
Dinner was Thanksgiving leftovers, eaten upstairs in the dining room, again with the fine china, crystal, and silverware.
“Why all the fancy stuff, Maria?” Third asked as he placed a crisp white linen napkin on his lap.
“Why not?” Maria replied. “It’s gorgeous, and if we end up being stuck in the shelter, I suspect we’ll get plenty sick of melamine or paper plates.”
Leadfather silenced the table when he took two slices of bread, added mayonnaise, and put two big spoons of stuffing between the slices of bread.
“Lead,” Third asked, “what on earth are you making there?”
“It’s a stuffing sandwich, Third – what does it look like?” Leadfather said reasonably.
“You’re having two spoonfuls of bread between two slices of bread?” Maria asked.
“Exactly so, my dear,” Leadfather replied. “My late Uncle Charles used to do this whenever I’d visit him and Aunt Mim back in Massachusetts for Thanksgiving or Christmas.”
Everyone else looked around at each other and had the same unspoken thought: Why the hell not? In a few minutes, the six people at Third and Maria’s table were all eating stuffing sandwiches.
“Son of a – this is great!” Jose exclaimed. Full mouths around the table mumbled agreement.
“Uncle Charles was … eccentric, to say the least,” Leadfather admitted, “but he knew a good thing when he saw it. Which, I guess, is why he and Aunt Mim were married for nearly 60 years.”
Maria nudged Third and said, “Think we’ll make 60 years, hon?”
“Well, we’d both be over a hundred if we did,” Third pointed out, “but we’ll give it a shot.”
Later that evening – just before 9 PM
The closing credits of El Dorado scrolled up the flat-screen TV in Third’s living room. Third used the remote to stop and eject the DVD and switch back to CNN.
It was apparent that Maria and Monica were, to say the least, underwhelmed with the John Wayne film.
“So that’s what you were going on about gaily bedight and ride boldly ride and all that?” Maria asked Third. “Seemed kind of silly to me.”
“That’s the whole point of it,” Third exclaimed. “John Wayne and Howard Hawks were making a standard Western and having fun doing it.”
“Must be a guy thing,” Monica said in a stage whisper to Maria. “No offense, Margie.”
“None taken,” Margie replied, “John Wayne can be an acquired taste. But a very young James Caan was kinda cute.” Maria and Monica both agreed.
The couples watched CNN until the bottom of the hour and didn’t really learn anything new on the U.S.-China crisis, save for the fact that the Chinese Foreign Ministry had issued a statement from Beijing denying any involvement in the Detroit bombing and accusing the U.S. government of murdering American citizens in a “false flag” operation designed to deliberately inflame tensions in the economic conflict.
“What is a ‘false flag’ operation, Third?” Jose asked. “I’ve never heard that term before.”
“It means when some type of operation is carried out in such a way that it appears to have been conducted by one nation but was really done by another,” Third explained. “The Nazis ran a false flag operation to justify their long-planned invasion of Poland in 1939. The CIA tried the same thing during the Bay of Pigs operation in Cuba in 1961. Didn’t work either time.”
“So we’re accusing China of the Detroit bombing,” Monica asked, “and they’re accusing the U.S. government of it?”
“Exactly, Monica,” Third said, “that’s the perfect description of where we stand now.”
“I was thinking more of a Mexican standoff, like in Reservoir Dogs,” Leadfather said. “Somebody shoots and everybody dies.”
“Too late to change my name to Mr. Pink?” Jose asks. “At least he got away with the diamonds.”
“It might be too late for all of us,” Leadfather replies.
“Well, speaking of late, that’s what it’s getting,” Third said, standing up and stretching. “I’m going to stay up for a while, keep an eye on the news. Jose, would you mind spelling me about midnight? And Lead, maybe you can relieve Jose about 3 AM.”
“What about us?” Margie asked.
“No sense in everyone getting woke up in the middle of the night for an hour of staring at the radio or TV,” Third said reasonably. “If you’re all willing, we’ll make tonight a stag night and tomorrow ladies’ night.”
“Third,” Monica asked, “is it okay if we don’t sleep in the shelter tonight?”
“Fine by me, as long as we know where everybody is, so if an alert comes in the middle of the night, we can get you all in the shelter quickly without running all over the house,” Third said. “What, you don’t like the shelter?” he added, with a smile.
“It’s beautiful, Third,” Monica said, “but I tend to be a little claustrophobic. If we en up having to be down there for weeks on end, I’d like to have one last night in a regular bedroom.”
“You sleep wherever you’re comfortable, Monica,” Third replied. “You know, we’ve got two single bunks in the shelter – no second bunk above them. Why don’t you try one of those tonight, see how it feels?”
“I can stay down there with you, if you’d like,” Jose offered, then realized how what he just said sounded. “I didn’t mean … I mean, I meant ...” followed by a choking sound.
“I know what you meant,” said Monica shyly, “and what you didn’t mean. Either way, it’s okay.” She smiled and headed downstairs to the shelter. Jose stood still, unable to speak.
Leadfather leaned over to Third and said, “Maybe we ought to leave Jose off the duty roster for tonight.”
Third nodded. “Poor guy looks like he’s unfit for duty already.”
Jose, overhearing the two men, turned about four shades of red, started to go down to the shelter, stopped, and finally sat down on the top step of the basement stairs, unable to figure out what to do.
“Lead, you think you can get hold of that biker-pastor friend of yours, that officiated at Maria’s & my wedding?” Third asked, this time out of Jose’s hearing. “I think we might have some more business for him.”
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Post by pbbrown0 on Aug 8, 2016 17:04:10 GMT -6
Bruce,
A technical correction. — “Heavier than a sonofagun, and that was unloaded and without a magazine,” Third noted, “but a beauty nonetheless. I don’t mean to pry, but, um, aren’t those illegal?”
“If the government knows you have it, for sure,” Frank Jr. agreed. “Lucky for me they don’t know anything about it. Or rather, they did until about 1965.”
Actually You can get a federal stamp/license for a full auto weapon if pay the $200 fee (per weapon), and you can get a chief Law Enforcement Officer (such as Chief of Police or a Sheriff) to sign the paperwork. The catch is the weapon has to have been manufactured before 1986 (like this particular BAR was). Some states have further restrictions and some do not.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 8, 2016 17:47:29 GMT -6
Bruce, A technical correction. — “Heavier than a sonofagun, and that was unloaded and without a magazine,” Third noted, “but a beauty nonetheless. I don’t mean to pry, but, um, aren’t those illegal?” “If the government knows you have it, for sure,” Frank Jr. agreed. “Lucky for me they don’t know anything about it. Or rather, they did until about 1965.” Actually You can get a federal stamp/license for a full auto weapon if pay the $200 fee (per weapon), and you can get a chief Law Enforcement Officer (such as Chief of Police or a Sheriff) to sign the paperwork. The catch is the weapon has to have been manufactured before 1986 (like this particular BAR was). Some states have further restrictions and some do not. Thanks for the heads up - damnably hard to keep track of firearms laws and regs sometimes. Maybe I was thinking that the Army would get him for stealing / misappropriating a weapon. Regardless, thanks!
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Post by cutter on Aug 8, 2016 20:27:58 GMT -6
CLEO sign off is no longer required. CLEO notification is. That is provided the weapon is legal to own at all in the given jurisdiction. This change is recent along with a new requirement that all members of a"gun trust" submit photos, fingerprints, and paperwork required of individual owners.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Aug 8, 2016 21:32:49 GMT -6
Constantly changing regs.
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