Beyond the Nightmare

By George Oliver

For three years, the world suffered from a pandemic. Millions died, and countries were destroyed. The United States was not spared and divided into east and west. In the east, the government was controlled by the military. In a desperate attempt to fund a bankrupt budget, it turned to drug and human trafficking. The western states set up a provisional government and supported an underground movement in the east.

Five years after the last pandemic, an underground unit in the east was ordered to disband and its members were to escape. As Frank Edwards began his escape, he wanted to escape not only from the nightmare that he had been fighting in the east, but from his own personal nightmares. His escape would require the help of the Ojibwa and Lakota tribes from whom he would learn of the nightmares that Native people have lived through.

Just as his escape started, he came across a human trafficking operation. In the group of prisoners were Alissa Montgomery and her daughter; she had worked for Frank before the pandemics came. Should he try a suicidal rescue attempt and save them from their nightmare or continue on without them and add to his nightmares?

Beyond the Nightmare is not only about getting beyond the nightmares of life, but about a journey of recovery, healing, restoration, and rejoicing in the day the nightmare ends.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638857600

Book preview

Chapter 1

One Last Mission

All these are the beginning of sorrow was a part of an ancient prophecy. But like all prophecies, they are too often read, studied, debated, and then put back on the shelf to collect dust. Then came the pandemics. Three times, in three years. Out of 7.5 billion people of the earth’s population, 600 million people got the disease, and 375 million died. No country was spared. In the United States, with a population of 324 million people, almost 10 million people died. The nightmare was everywhere. All over the world, the upheaval of societies was without precedent. Governments fell overnight. New ones arose just as fast, only to fall. Again, the United States was not spared. Divisions in the country grew, and civil war loomed over the horizon.

*****

President Collins received an unexpected visitor. General Zimmer, the head of the Central Intelligence Agency, had called and asked for an emergency meeting with the president.

General Zimmer, come in and have a seat, President Collins greeted him as he entered the Oval Office.

Thank you, Mr. President. Zimmer walked up to the chair next to the president’s desk. He started to sit down but then waited for the president to sit first.

Now, what’s the emergency? the president asked as he sat down.

General Beck, his bodyguards have been murdered, Zimmer said without any emotion.

What? The president bolted out of his chair. Murdered? Are you sure? The president turned away from Zimmer and looked out of the window. He was trying very hard to stay in control. The president had been warned by General Beck to use extreme caution when dealing with General Zimmer. The one person he semitrusted was now dead. Not only did he dislike Zimmer, but he sensed something evil about him.

Yes, sir. He’s dead. I got the report a day ago. Again, Zimmer showed no emotion.

A day ago! The president turned back to Zimmer in rage. Why in the hell have you held this back from me?

I didn’t come to you right away because the report needed to be confirmed. After all, I didn’t want to needlessly alarm you or the nation, Zimmer carefully replied.

The president slammed his fist on his deck and yelled, "I think that is the kind of information you bring to me confirmed or not!’

With all due respect, Mr. President, there is no need to shout at me. I’m just the messenger. Zimmer remained in complete control.

Easy, easy. I’ve got to be more careful. This is a rattlesnake sitting in front of me, the president thought to himself as he sat back down and took a deep breath. I’m sorry. You know there was nothing personal in my outburst. I shouldn’t have let Beck go to the North Shore. The White House chief of staff belongs here and not in Minnesota.

Well, sir, General Beck wanted to inspect the troops before the attack on the western states and the reservations out there that support them.

So I take it the report has been confirmed.

Are you okay? You look very pale.

I’m fine. However, the president felt his stomach tie up in knots. The country was on the verge of another civil war and now this. What happened?

Late Monday night, General Beck was taking a routine walk around the camp with his two bodyguards, when several shots were fired from some brush just ahead of them. Clearly a pro, all three were killed on the spot. Zimmer didn’t know the real details of Beck’s death, but for him the details were irrelevant. This was an opportunity to seize power.

Now what? the president said more to himself than to General Zimmer.

Here’s what I have ordered to be done so far. First, the scene was totally sanitized. Nothing is there to even suggest someone cut a finger. Second, everyone with knowledge of this event has been isolated. There is a total blackout.

Why on earth would you do that?

Again, to avoid needlessly upsetting the public. These are dangerous times, so the less the public knows, the better. Zimmer gave a slight smile.

Sooner or later this will get out, the president pointed out.

True, very true. But it is how it gets out, and you control that, Mr. President.

The president was sensing that Zimmer was telling him what needed to be done and not suggesting what he should do.

Murdered is murdered, General Zimmer.

True, but if you announce he was murdered, it encourages the western states and the underground movement here in the loyal states. We’ve been fighting them for five years now, and there’s no need to add fuel to their fire. Plus it makes us look like a banana republic to the world, Zimmer pointed out.

Well, we just can’t pretend he isn’t dead. The president was growing more and more leery of Zimmer.

No, but we can control the story of his death.

Control the story of his death? What did you have in mind?

Simple, tonight or tomorrow night, the army will attack the western states along the Missouri. In the heat of the battle, General Beck will be killed in action. You get to eulogize him at a state funeral at the National Cathedral and preside over the burial at Arlington. The public loves those kinds of patriotic pictures. They’ll rally around you even more.

I see… The president then took a deep breath for what he knew was next. He was my White House chief of staff… Who do you suggest to replace him?

With all due respect to anyone else, there is no one more qualified than myself.

I caught a lot of grief for appointing an active general as the White House chief of staff and another, you, as the head of the CIA. Everyone said you needed to resign from the military first, but you both insisted otherwise.

Mr. President, may I remind you that under Directive 51 you are free to do such things for the duration of the current crisis. And as the head of CIA, I know the strengths and the weaknesses of anyone you could name. I am the best one for the job. Zimmer smiled.

His smile sent a shiver down the spine of the president. Even me? My strengths and weaknesses?

Oh, Mr. President, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not talking about people’s dirty little secrets. We all on occasion drink too much. We all don’t, however, run over a seven-year-old. We all don’t have the kind of money needed to pay off a grieving family and the local police. Don’t worry about this or any other skeletons in your closet. After all, we all have them. Again, Zimmer smiled.

The president got the message. I have no doubt that you are the best one for the job. What about the people who know what happened to General Beck?

Zimmer leaned forward toward the president and looked at him in the most threatening way he could and asked, Would you like me to tell you what’s to be done with them or just take care of that little problem?

The president sat there stunned for a moment at the realization of what Zimmer implied. T…ta…take care of the problem, the president stuttered as he surrendered to Zimmer.

I knew you would make the correct decision. Of course, I’ll join you at tomorrow’s crisis meeting.

Of course, the president said, totally deflated.

One more issue we need to discuss.

Suddenly very, very weary, the president asked, And what would that be?

I had a conversation with the Treasury secretary, and he told me the government was running out sources of revenue.

And what would my new chief of staff suggest?

My aide, Captain Barrett, is in charge of the Volunteers of America Program and has some great ideas on how to expand it and make it more profitable for the government.

Yes, yes, let him do it. You can spare me the details.

Zimmer stood up and smiled. Good. I’ll put him to work and take care of the other problem right away. Thank you, Mr. President. I believe that you and I will work great together. He turned and left.

Collins got up from his desk and walked over to the window and looked out onto the White House lawn. What little power he had under Beck was now gone. He realized he was totally under the control of General Zimmer. He was General Zimmer’s cat’s-paw, and there was nothing he could do about it.

*****

In a secret location in northern Wisconsin, a different kind of meeting was taking place at the same time. An operative for the underground and his controller were meeting. The controller who was called Iri carefully inserted the flash drive just handed to him and opened the only file on it. As he read the report it contained, he occasionally he looked over the top of his glasses and laptop at his operative. Then he went back to the report he was reading.

Hmmm. He looked up at him again and said, Frank, as usual a very fine and concise report.

Is that a fact? Frank said sarcastically.

Iri then hit the delete button.

Hey, what’s with that? Aren’t you going encrypt it and then pass it along? Frank protested.

Normally I would, but… Iri drifted off in his own thoughts.

But what?

Events have changed everything for us. Iri paused and then went on, I remember once listening to a man talk about an ancient prophecy. The prophecy said, ‘All these are the beginning of sorrow.’ He went on to note that like all prophecies, they are all too often read, studied, debated, and then put back on the shelf to collect dust. Then eight years ago came the pandemics. Three times, in three years. The beginning of sorrow.

Frank patiently listened to his controller as he slipped into his teaching mode instead of coming to the point. I can’t complain, Frank thought. I do the same thing from time to time. But he also had heard his fair share of prophecies and had no use for them.

Think of it, Frank, just think of it, at the height of the pandemics, over 370 million people died. That’s over a 335,000 people a day! To make matters worse, some governments, including our own, used the disease to control their populations and keep their power intact. They were playing with fire. It really is a miracle that as our country divided itself into factions, at least one faction wanted to restore the country to the Constitution as the Founding Fathers wrote it.

You can say that again. But one side has a real corrupt view of the Constitution and even a more corrupt view on how to use it, Frank said, barely hiding his anger over the death of his wife and children, which he blamed the government for.

Good people like you looked to the government, and it had no answers. The president invoked Directive 51, and the Congress and the Supreme Court gave its approval. Elections were suspended, and ‘due process’ of the law was all but forgotten. It was like they ripped up the Constitution and then burned it. Instead of uniting the country, it magnified existing divisions, and then we cracked like an egg.

And… Frank was now very impatient with the lesson.

Remember how the pandemics left the wake of death and Washington had no answer? Was it any surprise when the Pacific states semibroke away? We should have all known that it was just the beginning. Can you imagine the look on President Collins’s face when every state west of the Mississippi announced there was no longer a government in Washington, DC, to follow? Or when they announced the formation of a provisional government with its capitol in Cheyenne, Wyoming? I’m sure when they retook all the states and territory up to the Missouri River, they thought the rest would surrender. No, it only got worse when Georgia, the Carolinas, and Florida pulled away from Washington. Then militia units were formed all over the mountain states. Unlike the Civil War, no states actually seceded from the Union, but the country was breaking up, and it looked like all-out war here in the good ol’ USA. It still does, but so far, it is turning out to be a different kind of war. Other than the ‘guerrilla warfare’ by us in the underground, it is a giant stalemate.

Okay, okay, so what’s your point? Frank asked, suddenly very tired of the discussion.

Well…it’s all over, Iri said with a slight smile.

What do you mean it is all over? Frank demanded.

Just that, it is all over. Today I hit the ‘eject’ button. We all have one last mission. We are all to get out of here as fast as we can, Iri explained.

But we still have an effective group operating here. Why shut us down?

We’ve been at this for five years. Actually higher-up wanted to shut us down two years ago. So we have been out in the ‘cold’ for too long.

Higher-up in the underground or from the provisional government in Cheyenne? Frank asked, wanting to know.

Would it make a difference? But that’s beside the point. We are done. All hell is breaking loose in Washington because of what happened up on the North Shore. Iri was looking closely at Frank and watching his expression.

What are you talking about? I just came from the North Shore. Didn’t you read that report? Except for some National Guard and army units moving around up there, all was quiet.

General Beck was up there. Iri was studying his old friend’s expression.

General Beck? Frank responded, with genuine surprise.

General Beck, and that’s not all. Someone shot him at point-blank range! He’s dead. Beck and his two bodyguards. I got some ‘intel’ on it about two hours ago. Details are still very sketchy. Obviously the government is doing everything they can to keep this quiet.

Frank put his hand over his mouth. Wow! The new ‘George S. Patton’ of this century is dead.

It happened while you were up there. So nothing looked out of place? Iri continued to study Frank’s face. Frank was his best operative and knew how to hide his feelings.

Nothing. If it wasn’t for an occasional truck or jeep driving by, I could have taken a nap on Highway 61 and not been run over for days.

Something is not right, Iri said, expressing some frustration. He then looked away for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. You know Beck was the real power in Washington. President Collins was his puppet. Now there is a power vacuum.

Not for long, and we both know it, Frank insisted. General Zimmer will step in, and if we thought things were bad under Beck, it is now going to get real ugly.

You got that right!

Beck turned his back on Zimmer’s brutalities including the drugs and human trafficking because it was very isolated, but very lucrative. Zimmer kept the people under control and prevented any more states from breaking away. That left Beck free to plan his war with the western states. But look out, because under Zimmer, the atrocities will grow and grow as long as the money keeps coming in! That money keeps the government and the military going.

True, true. How many times have you and I talked about this? The Right used to say that a Nazi-style tyranny would come from the Left, and the Left said it would come from the Right. In the end, we both agree it would come from the ‘behemoth’ called the US government. The Left grew the government as fast as they could. The Right also grew it, only slower, and claimed that they were shrinking it. What a joke. Both of them were blind to the real danger, the corrupting power that comes from government power. It was only a matter of time before one side or the other took advantage of it. And a time of crisis is never wasted on those who are corrupted by power, Iri added.

Except it wasn’t the Right or the Left that took advantage—it was the military, Frank pointed out.

Military, Right, Left, Republican, or Democrat…it doesn’t make a difference, Iri stated.

That’s true. A dictatorship is a dictatorship.

The power of our government was too big of a temptation. Sooner or later someone was going to grab it, Iri added.

Moot point now; but if someone killed Beck, there would have been roadblocks, PMs, and cops all over the place. But I am telling you it was dead quiet! Frank was emphatic.

If you’re right, and I believe you are, Zimmer not only is going to take over, but I’ll bet he was behind Beck’s murder, and that is why it was so quiet. Iri wanted to feel relieved by Frank’s reaction, but was he just acting was the question that kept racing through his mind.

A coup d’état? Frank asked.

A silent coup d’état to keep the public calm. It’s the only way to explain the lack of activity on the North Shore. So I’ll bet that in a few days, the army will attack the western states somewhere along the Missouri River. The government will then announce that General Beck led that attack against the treasonous western states and the militia and that he was killed in battle. Then they will give him a hero’s funeral and burial at Arlington. After that, the president will go on TV to praise Beck and then announce his new chief of staff, General James Mattoon Zimmer. No one will know it was a coup.

That’s got to be it. You got to be right! Well…we’re out of it now. Almost anyway. Frank was now resigned to the fact his underground days were over.

I hope your ‘parachute’ is a good one. Parachute was Iri’s code word for an escape plan.

It’s not fast, but I believe it will get me out of here. My contacts with the tribes assure me of an opening on one of the reservations to get me across the Missouri River and to freedom from the Washington-controlled states. My biggest problem is getting from here to there. But my ‘chute’ will get the job done.

Good, good. Iri suddenly had a hard time looking at his old friend. When I was given this job, I was told not to get close to my operatives or it will cloud my decisions and endanger my whole cell. So I kept all of my operatives at a distance…except you.

Then Iri’s voice trailed off. Oh, when you first got here.

When I got here? You mean when your goons dragged me here! Frank pointed out.

Iri laughed. "However you got here, you were one angry dude, looking to take on the entire government by yourself. I thought, If I take this hothead into our unit, he’ll get us all killed."

"And I remember that meeting all too well. My first impression of you wasn’t so hot either. I looked at you and thought, If this old fart is the leader of an underground unit, we’re all in big trouble. I thought for sure coming under you would get me killed. Boy, was I wrong! The underground needs more men like you."

That’s rumor…but I like it. Iri chuckled. The truth is they got a lot of good men and women and most of them ten times better than me, he said with no false modesty.

I doubt that.

Anyway, back to our final business of getting out of here. So when you left the North Shore it was quiet, right?

Yes. Extremely quiet.

Good. With everything running as normal, everyone should be able to use their ‘chutes’ and get out of here safely.

Well, Iri, when you get back with your wife and son, I hope you also find the rest of your family. What will you do?

Find a job and take care of my family. No Social Security where I’m going, he said with a laugh.

Well, maybe you can find the time to write that book you always went on and on about. Then with some sarcasm, Frank said, How Emperor Constantine corrupted Christianity and how that led to the problems of today’s Christianity and blah, blah, blah.

Iri ignored Frank’s jab at his faith. If I ever write it…you’ll read it. One day the truth will penetrate your ‘shield of sarcasm,’ and you will believe.

Now it was Frank’s turn to ignore his friend’s comments on his feelings of Christianity and religion in general. They had this discussion, and sometimes argument, many, many times.

Write it first, and if I am bored…who knows.

Knowing it was time, Iri stood up and grabbed a book off the shelf behind him. He then walked to the door and was followed by Frank. It was time to go, and they both were dreading the moment.

I know that somehow you are heading somewhere out west to the mountains. I must admit I’m jealous, very jealous. Please, don’t be a hermit or some modern version of a ‘mountain man.’ Give life a chance and start anew. And whatever you do…do not join the militia! You have done your part. It’s my last order to you. Got it?

Yes, sir! Frank replied. All the time Frank was thinking, Militia no, but living up in the mountains away from people? Yes, that’s exactly what I want. More than anything, to be alone and left alone!

And if I am right about your destination, I have a favor to ask of you.

And that would be?

There is a certain mountain and river that we have talked about from time to time.

And… Frank knew where his friend was heading with this.

I would like you to climb the mountain and rename it and stick a sign on it with the new name, Mount Betty. Iri smiled. And down below and toward the north is the Soda Butte Creek. Rename that for my wife and put a sign up. If we ever get in touch again, you can send me a picture for my wife. As I’ve told you before, it was one of our favorite spots on our honeymoon. She’ll love it.

What good will the sign do for Betty? She’ll never know that I did it, Frank pointed out.

And as I have said before, it’s not for her, but for you! Iri insisted.

Iri, I know the river holds a special meaning for you and your wife. If I get there, I’ll put up a sign. I’ll take a picture and send it to you, if I can. As to the other, don’t hold your breath.

Frank had always been confused by his friend’s foolish idea for him to rename a mountain after his late wife. The river was special to Iri and his wife. The mountain was special to Frank and his wife, Betty, but that was the past. She was gone. He saw no purpose to do it now.

Now, I have a book I would like you to take and read.

Frank was unable to control himself and rolled his eyes.

Iri smiled. One last favor, please read it.

Frank weighed the book in both hands and then tried to put a little humor into his response.

"Wow, it’s big enough. You wouldn’t happen to have the Reader’s Digest version of it, would you? And then with a fake sigh, he said, Oh well, once I’m out of here and settled into my new home…maybe this winter…who knows."

Come on, please read it.

He looked again at the book. "A Case for Yeshua as the Messiah. Iri, I know you have a deep love…a passion for the Jewish roots of your faith, but…" Frank didn’t know what to say.

Take it, and if you read it, great. And if you don’t, find someone who might like it. Fair enough? Iri tried not to sound pushy.

You have been after me to read this book for some time now. Okay, I promise. I’ll read it.

Thank you. Now, forgive me, but I got to do this. Putting Frank in a bear hug, he prayed for his friend one last time, Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu, melekh ha`olam. Blessed are You, O Lord our God, King of the universe. O Lord and King, I pray that You would watch over my friend, my brother. Iri paused, trying to keep his composure before he went on. I ask that You would guide Frank to You, and guide him for the rest of his days. I ask above all that You would give him Your peace. In the name of Yeshua ha Mashiach. Amen.

Frank resisted showing his doubt of his friend’s prayer and remained silent for a moment to collect his thoughts. And then Iri simply said, Go with God, my friend. And then after another brief pause, Who knows, you may be right, he said with a slight smile, but with no conviction.

They embraced each other one last time. As he went out the door, Frank said to himself, God, if You are real, please get my friend safely out of this hell and reunite him with his family.

Chapter 2

Directive 51

President Collins took his place at the head of the conference table in the Situation Room. Officially it is the John F. Kennedy Conference Room. As everyone on the Crisis Committee took their place, they watched with great alarm as General Zimmer came in and sat in General Beck’s usual place. Everyone at this meeting knew he was not to be crossed in any way.

How did things get so out of control? Collins thought to himself. His presidency had started out so good. The economy was booming, overseas issues were almost nonexistent, and reelection was going to be a breeze. Then the pandemics came, and there was no cure or prevention available. It was during the second pandemic when Hawaii announced it was going to no longer follow federal directives on how to handle the plague that was killing people in the hundreds. Oregon soon followed. Not following the federal government was one thing, but then word came that every state west of the Mississippi River took it a step further and declared that the federal government had abandoned the Constitution and was no longer legitimate. All but Arizona and Minnesota wanted a convention of states as called for in Article 5 of the Constitution. With only seventeen of the thirty-four states needed for the convention, they decided on a provisional government, based on the Constitution, with its capitol in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

To make matters worse, California and Washington joined up with Hawaii. That was followed by Alaska’s support of the convention of states and that they would sell their oil on the world market to support themselves. Then the straw that broke the camel’s back came when Georgia, Florida, and the Carolinas announced they too were no longer taking the lead from Washington. Like the border states of the Civil War, they were neither for Washington nor for the western states.

Under extreme pressure from General Beck and General Zimmer, President Collins invoked Directive 51 and suspended the government from most of its normal duties. Directive 51 was for catastrophic emergencies that would threaten the Constitution and the democracy of the country. With twenty states remaining loyal to the government in Washington, the president asked for their approval. Both houses overwhelmingly approved of the president’s action. The action was challenged by a major civil rights group and taken immediately to the Supreme Court. Only General Zimmer was sure they would also give their approval. In an eight to one decision, Directive 51 was approved.

Using Directive 51 as his authority, President Collins then appointed General Beck to be his White House chief of staff, the first active general appointed to what has always been a civilian job. Then again taking a civilian post, he appointed General Zimmer as the head of the CIA. Next, the president suspended all national elections for the duration of the crisis. Taking measures never used before, like Directive 51 and appointing active generals to such high positions, President Collins was repeatedly assured by Beck and Zimmer that it would calm the public. Instead, it increased the calls for a convention of states.

Directive 51 was the rallying cry for people all across the nation, especially in the west. Citizen-run militia units sprang up all over the western states in response to Directive 51. These were not the militias of the 1980s. During the 1980s, cult-like doomsday groups and racist type of militia groups popped up here and there. Fortunately, they were more rare than the media made them seem; and over time, they would die out. The new militias were at first based on the minutemen of the American Revolution; only in times of need would they come together. But as the government and society were losing control and the American society was falling apart, militia groups grew even more, first at the neighbor level, then grew to city groups, and finally to the state level. As they grew, so did their influence over local and state officials. The militia had gained de facto control of these states. They seized all US military bases and then added them to their own along with the state National Guard units. Some in the militia were pushing these states to leave the Union. However, the majority wanted to fix what they saw as a broken government in Washington.

Federal military units in Minnesota, Iowa, and northern Missouri regained control of these states and were reinforced with other eastern military units. All state officials who sided against President Collins were arrested on the spot. Next they seized control of the eastern half of both North and South Dakota. They also retook all the land north of the Missouri River in the state of Missouri. The Missouri River became the boundary between the states loyal to Washington, DC, and those loyal to Cheyenne.

Then several western Native American tribes announced their independence. The Hopi and the Navajo dropped their ancient hatred of each other and took over northern Arizona including the Grand Canyon. There the Havasupai tribe joined them. The Havasupai had been living in the Grand Canyon for over eight hundred years. The same happened in Wyoming where the Arapaho and Shoshone on the Wind River Reservation declared their independence. They too set aside their past. The movement continued north. The various tribes of western Montana, North Dakota, and South Dakota united. They claimed all land west of the Minnesota, all the way to Canada, as far west as Glasgow, Montana, and then from Glasgow to Newcastle, Wyoming. They declared they were now the Tatanka Nation. In northern Minnesota and Wisconsin, the Ojibwa tribes all but declared their independence by ordering state and local police off their reservations. They also made it clear that no state National Guard or federal military units of any kind were welcome on tribal lands. Other tribes throughout the entire eastern states followed suit.

Out west, the militia-controlled states, in a surprise move, recognized the newly declared nations and sought a military alliance. These new Native nations were naturally cool to the idea. Centuries of lies by the white man and the government burned a deep distrust in them. It was only when the militia offered arms and ammunition instead of promises that an uneasy alliance was formed. Washington was stymied. To force the eastern tribes to drop their claims of independence would push them into siding with the western tribes and, worse, the militia. However, to do nothing might encourage other groups to refuse orders from the federal government.

The next problem came in the way of the underground movement. They didn’t attack civilians or the military directly. Instead, they sought to weaken the government though the destruction of bridges, railroads, civic buildings, and military equipment. They also killed selective political and military leaders. They would hit and then disappear back into their normal lives. After so many missions, they would disband and flee to the other states or countries. New underground cell groups would form and take the former ones’ place.

Unlike the Civil War, no states actually seceded from the Union; but like the year 1860, the country was on the edge of war.

Now, almost eight years into the crisis, President Collins headed up the daily crisis meeting. However, he knew that he was going to propose only what General Zimmer had given to him in their private preparation meeting an hour earlier. Why? the president thought to himself. Nothing we have done has brought the country back together.

The president thought back on the day he invoked Directive 51. Along with putting the Constitution on hold, they violated the Posse Comitatus Act and deployed military units inside the United States and used them against its own citizens. Then they used the Insurrection Act as their cover, but many argued that the act itself was unconstitutional.

As President Collins began the meeting, he could see the look of concern on everyone’s face with General Zimmer taking General Beck’s chair.

I’m afraid we have some very bad news to start today’s meeting. Late last night while leading an attack on the militia, General Beck was killed. That’s all the details I can share at this time. I have appointed General Zimmer to be my new White House chief of staff. As soon as I can, I will fill you all in on the details.

The proverbial pin could have dropped, and everyone would have heard it.

Okay, today we need to focus on three problems that are crippling us. First is our need to bring under our control the resources and manpower still within the loyal states. Second, the need to get the media in line with the truth, and last to increase revenues. General Zimmer and I have some ideas we would like your input on. General Zimmer?

Zimmer smiled; the president had played his role perfectly. First as to manpower for the war factories and other needed areas. As many of you know, the Volunteers of America Program has been helping us by finding workers in Wisconsin and Minnesota on a limited scale for the past five years. It has been a huge success, but…but it is too limited. It needs to expand into Illinois, Indiana, and Iowa for starters. The overseas division of the VAP has been bringing in needed revenue for the Treasury, but this too needs to expand as well. Any objections?

There wasn’t a person at the table who would raise an objection. With General Beck, there would have been a discussion; with Zimmer, he was informing them on what was going to happen.

Good. Next we need to get a handle on the media and its reporting. Under the Communications Act of 1934, the president can establish the Office of Telecommunications Management, which oversees all media and telecommunications, regardless of advances in technology. President Kennedy did this through Executive Order 10995 in 1962. So, Mr. President, this needs to be done.

Yes, I agree, the president said. I know that some of you may be thinking that the press has been on our side all along, right? But General Zimmer gave me a CIA report that shows this will not last another three or four months. So now is the time to act. Agree?

Everyone again simply nodded their heads in agreement.

Excellent! Zimmer smiled. They’re not as stupid as they look. They understand perfectly who is in charge, he thought. Next, our revenue problem can be helped by using the Act of 1917 that says the president has the authority to take all privately owned gold coin, gold bullion, and gold certificates. It was last used to mitigate the effects of the Great Depression in 1933. Citizens back then were allowed to keep only $100 worth of gold, but for the duration of our current crisis, we shouldn’t allow this. We should give no more than three days for the gold to be surrendered to the Federal Reserve Bank closest to them. Comments?

Again, there were none.

That only leaves the banks. Unfortunately, the big banks remain a problem. Before this great administration took office, these banks grew and grew and are now international powers. Almost countries to themselves. They refuse to choose who they are loyal to. In other words, they are loyal only to themselves. For them, it is business as usual or else. If we crack down on them, they take the militia side. If the militia states try to force them to act against us, well, they will shut them down. Well, it is a problem I am… I mean the president and I are working on.

They all knew the income for the government had been slashed; and Zimmer was going to supplement it by illegal activities of confiscation of property, drugs, and human trafficking. The nightmare was growing and growing.

*****

Boozhoo, Frank! Sue Ellen shouted. Can you make that RV any louder?

What? Frank shouted back as he turned off the RV.

I said, ‘Boozhoo, Frank.’

And boozhoo back at you. It’s good to be in a safe spot, if only for a few minutes, Frank said as he got out of his RV. He knew that he was safe while on the Lac Courte Oreilles Ojibwe Reservation. State and federal officials of any kind were not welcome on tribal land anymore.

It is so good to see you, Sue Ellen said as she gave Frank a big hug.

I’m glad I could see you one more time before I left.

So you’re on your way out of here.

Yes, and the sooner, the better.

Your RV sounds like a 747 jet coming in for a landing.

Well, I supposed to get it fixed on my first stop on the Ojibwe Trail.

Good. Otherwise, you will draw a lot of unwanted attention to yourself.

True, and I don’t want that. Not on this trip. Frank gave a slight smile.

Well, I for one will miss you. Come on in, Rick is waiting for you.

I’ll miss you too.

Sue Ellen guided Frank from the parking lot into the Lac Courte Oreilles Tribal Office. Once inside, she took Frank to the office of the tribal chairman, Rick Corbine. Rick was a tall man, with long gray hair and a thin mustache and goatee. He was the tribal chairman years ago and then helped the tribe’s school system in its early days. He held a doctorate in education and taught in the state’s university system for many years. When the country started to break up, he came back to his home at LCO to help and was elected tribal chairman again. It was through a former teacher at the tribal schools that he was introduced to Frank and made the connection with the underground.

Aniin, Frank, Aniin! Rick reached out and shook Frank’s hand. Come in and have a seat.

Thanks, Rick, Frank replied as he sat down.

Aaniish naa ezhiyaayin?

Still a little numb over the idea of getting out of here.

I suppose that is to be expected. How long have you served in the underground? Three, four years?

Five years.

That long? Wow. What’s the old expression… You’ve done your bit for King and country? Something like that, right?

Something like that.

Well, Makwa has been alerted and will be lining everything up for your journey on the Ojibwe Trail. Rick sat back down behind his desk.

Miigwich.

Any word on our replacement connection with the underground? Rick inquired.

It will take a while. First, the cell group I was a part of will be rebuilt. After that, you will be contacted by someone you can trust, and it will go from there, Frank explained.

That’s good to know. Now, is there anything else I can do for you? Rick asked.

In fact, there is. I have a favor to ask of you. When I’m safely out of here, I’m going to get word to my lawyer in Hayward. He will then go down to the county court and file all the needed papers to deed my property over to the tribe. A small way for me to say thanks for your help. Some tribal land back in tribal hands.

Frank, are you sure? I mean, someday this will be over and…

Frank shook his head. No, I will never move back. Visit maybe, but never move back.

Oh, Frank, Blue Goose Point is such a beautiful place on the lake, and it’s a wonderful gift to the tribe.

I know you will figure out the best way to use the place.

So what’s the favor?

Frank pulled out of his pocket a piece of paper and unfolded it. It was a map of his property. Back here behind the house is a very large rock, and next to it is a huge flower garden. And…

Rick was studying the map, and then he noticed Frank was having a hard time speaking.

And what, Frank? Rick gently asked.

Frank pulled himself together. If your remember, back at the height of the pandemics, the government required that all those who died had to be cremated.

Yes, I remember.

I found out that because people were dying so fast, funeral homes couldn’t keep up, so families didn’t usually get their loved ones back, but somebody else. I didn’t want somebody else. So I used my money and influence to secretly bury my wife and children there. Frank turned away from Rick to hide his tears.

Frank, you know we Ojibwe view the burial place of the dead as sacred grounds. Your family’s resting place will be respected and guarded. You have my word on that.

Frank wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and then stood up. Saying thank you doesn’t seem to be enough. But thank you. Thank you very much!

Rick stood and walked over to Frank and offered his hand. As the two shook hands, Rick said, Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.

As the two headed out of the office, they were met by Sue Ellen. "Hey, you two, Gibakade na?"

Of course, it’s Friday, and every Friday we have a potluck dinner here at the tribal office. Come on, Frank, and join us.

Sure, why not. Frank smiled. But this is one place you should never call it potluck. There is no luck involved… The food here is always great!

*****

Three hours later, Frank finished loading his RV with the supplies he had stored at his home. He walked over to the flower garden that hid the graves of his family.

You’ll be looked after, Frank said and then thought to himself, I used to think it was stupid when people talked to graves, and now I’m doing it.

Time to go, he said and then walked to the RV and climbed back into it. He then started back down his driveway and his way west.

Not ten minutes down the road, his engine started making all kinds of noise. He pulled his RV over in the parking area of a store that had closed years ago. A beat-up old sign read, The Log Cabin Store. His RV and the store had seen better days, Frank sighed.

If I’m going to have problems, better here while I’m still on the reservation than a mile or so farther when I leave it, Frank thought.

Now what?

Chapter 3

The Devil’s Alternative

Pull that piece of crap over! Now! screamed the corporal.

Frank couldn’t hear him but clearly understood what he wanted and brought the RV to a stop on the side of the road.

Oh great, Frank thought, VAP military police. This could be bad. After pulling the RV to the side of the road, Frank scrambled to find his papers.

Okay, now put your hands behind your head and keep them there. Now, what in the hell are you doing out after curfew? the corporal snapped.

After placing his hands behind his head, Frank responded, Well, I am trying to get home, but my RV keeps breaking down.

The corporal shone his flashlight up and down the RV and then put it on Frank. He was covered with grease, dirt, and sweat.

And you see, I just live up…

Shut up! Save it for the lieutenant. You’re so lucky we’re not a frontline unit. If we were, I’d have dragged your tail out into the woods by now, and you’d have a nice hole in your head. He turned to the private standing next to him. Go get Lieutenant Anderson, and tell him what is going on here. The private obeyed and took off.

As Frank waited for the lieutenant, he watched as MPs led a group of women and children across the road. Frank immediately knew they were a part of the so-called Volunteers of America Program or the VAP. A nice-sounding name for the government-sponsored human trafficking. He saw no men in the group, but if there were any, they would be shipped off to a war factory and slave labor at the same level of treatment as the Nazis did in World War II.

The women between thirty and forty were given to the military for the United Service Organizations (USO). Another sick joke. The new USO was just like the comfort women of World War II. Comfort women were women and girls who were forced into sexual slavery by the Imperial Japanese Army in occupied territories before and during World War II. Women in the new USO usually lasted three, maybe four months before either they were killed for not making someone happy or they took their own lives out of despair. The women in their twenties would be sold off at an auction for brothels from around the world. The minors would be sold to the underground Hollywood and unthinkable horror.

Frank wanted to do something for these poor victims, but what? There were at least twenty-five, maybe thirty guards. He knew enough about these operations from underground intelligence. A unit of twenty to thirty men were sent out with a list of what kind of volunteers they needed and how many. Then they simply knocked down doors to grab people or grabbed them right off the streets. When they filled their quota, they went to a predetermined meeting place and waited for army trucks to come and pick them up. They would then be moved on to a different part of the state to be sold. It was the government’s answer for money and workers for the war plants and other essential factories.

Seeing they had a few pack animals that were carrying gas cans as well as their usual needs, this told Frank the gas shortage was very real. The shortage was hurting the government as well as the people. They were taking gas wherever they could find it for the trucks that would pick them up. Oh yeah, Frank thought, the tip of an iceberg of atrocities that was going to explode under Zimmer. Frank burned with anger, but if he hoped to continue his escape, he would have to remain under control and, above all, act ignorant of all of this.

As the lieutenant approached, Frank could see that he would be no pushover.

Okay, let’s get off on the right foot. I’m in no mood for nonsense of any kind. I’ve had one lousy day, and we’re far behind schedule. This volunteer group is overdue for our stop for the night. So be careful how you answer me. Then saying each word very deliberately, he asked, What are you doing out after curfew?

I bought this RV from a man living near Minong this morning. Then it broke down at least four, five times, and the last time took me about two hours to get it going again.

Where is home?

Over on Kellner Road.

I know where that is. That’s on the other side of Highway 27. It’s a straight shot from Minong to Hayward and then down 27. Are you lost? This is County Road K, and it’s out of your way! the lieutenant pointed out.

Frank tried to put as much fear he could into his voice. True, but you must be aware that all the bridges over the Namekagon River in Hayward are closed because of the recent terrorist bombings of them?

I am… Go on, Anderson said with a slight smile.

Well, when I got to Hayward, I had to go up north on Highway 63, pass the, huh, what’s that bar? Oh yeah, the Wayside Sports Bar and Grill north to Mosquito Brook Road to find a bridge over the Namekagon River. It took me all the way to County Road K, and here I am, headed toward Highway 27 and home. You know, the ‘long way around the barn.’

Very good. A few more things. Why? Why do you want this rust bucket on wheels? Nobody these days is going on vacations or road trips of any kind. What did you buy it for?

Knowing that he might be stopped, he began telling the story he made up for a situation just like this. Last February my brother-in-law, his wife, and son moved in with my wife and I. They have made no attempt to find a place to live. My home has two bedrooms and one bathroom. My son has been taking turns with their son sleeping on the sofa because he had to give up his bedroom for them. The inside of this RV is not in bad shape, so I was hoping to put them in it for the summer, and maybe they would get the hint that it was time to find their own place to live.

Still looking for a fault in Frank’s story, the lieutenant asked another question, Where are your in-laws from?

Mandan, North Dakota.

Mandan? That’s Indian territory! How in the hell did they get across the Missouri River with all of the bridges closed? he demanded.

He owns an international computer programming company, but the truth is, he is the entire company. So he made his wife and son employees of the company. Then he got their papers and passports in order and slipped across the border into Canada. From there they traveled east to Sault Ste. Marie and crossed back in the United States. They then arranged travel to here. I really need to get them out of the house. He’s a royal pain in the neck…a real know-it-all! When he lived in Mandan, he complained about the militia all the time and how they were the cause of the trouble in the country. Now that he is here, the militia knows what they are doing, and the government is the problem. Frank paused and looked down. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble on and on.

The lieutenant, still not quite satisfied, pressed in one more time. I’m from the Minong area, he said, looking for a reaction from Frank.

You are? Frank said, genuinely surprised.

Yes, I am. So who did you buy the RV from? Maybe I know them.

Well, actually I bought it from a man in the old, abandoned town of Chittamo, outside of Minong.

You don’t say. My best friend lives near Chittamo. Continue.

Frank now was concerned that his whole cover story was about to fall apart. He quickly evaluated his situation. The RV was turned off, his hands were sweating as he held them behind his head, and the corporal was aiming his rifle in his direction. There was no chance of making a run for it.

I bought it from Fred Stressman.

No way. The lieutenant pretended to be happy. No way, that’s my best friend! Noticing Frank’s clear puzzlement, he asked, What’s wrong? You did buy it from Fred?

Yes. Fred Stressman. He is the only one living in Chittamo, far as I could tell.

Why do you look so surprised? If you bought this from Fred, well, you know he is about my age, thirty-five and about five foot nine inches with blond hair. He’s about two hundred and ten pounds. Right? The lieutenant had set his trap.

Frank hesitated before replying and thought, Do I change my story to fit what the lieutenant said about Stressman, or do I stay with my plan? He decided to stay with his plan. No…no, he’s nothing like that.

No? the lieutenant demanded. Then describe him to me!

He is very old, late eighties, maybe early nineties. Gray hair, but very thin. About five foot five inches and all of one hundred and fifty pounds. I’m not good at describing people. Frank now watched the lieutenant’s reaction.

What else about him?

His house is surrounded by all kinds of old vehicles, like a junkyard. Also, he’s very odd! Every chance he gets, he likes to tell a story about the old days. He usually starts off with ‘Welllll, back in ’37 when I was a sprout… Frank tried to do an old man’s voice that was high and squeaky.

Ha ha ha ha. The lieutenant let loose a very real and deep laugh. That’s him to the T! I’ll bet he ripped you off to boot.

The relief Frank felt was enormous, because he didn’t fall into the lieutenant’s trap. The only part of his story that was true was buying the RV from an old man named Fred Stressman who was a bit eccentric and lived in Chittamo.

That he did. I made the mistake of telling him how desperate I am.

Okay, you’re legit. When we get everyone across the road, you can go. I’m sorry if we seem a little too uptight. My superior wouldn’t be happy if we lost even one of these volunteers. Not happy at all.

Really? Frank asked, hoping to get a little information. Old habits die hard, he thought to himself.

Really. A lieutenant down around Black River Falls lost one volunteer. Just one the night before his group was to be picked up. The next day, in front of his unit and two other units, he received an old-fashioned ‘disgracing.’ Do you know what that is?

No.

You’ve probably seen it in a movie. It’s where the commander rips off every emblem of rank, honors, and anything that would identify them as being in the military. My captain did that to him in front of everyone. Then he told him that he would be kicked out of the army, after serving five years of hard labor at the Clam Lake Detainment Camp.

Clam Lake? slipped out of Frank before he could catch himself. He knew it was where the worst of the worst were sent. A place where the government not only worked people to death but were cruel and brutal beyond anyone’s imagination.

The lieutenant went on, Yes, Clam Lake. Do you know what happens to former army officers, especially MPs, in that camp?

Frank shook his head no.

They didn’t kill him. They, shall we say, ‘abused’ him, for three days and three nights.

Good god, no! Frank exclaimed. Did they kill him then?

"No,