Forgotten Forbidden America | Book 7 | Highway To Hell, page 19
part #7 of Forgotten Forbidden America Series
Then she turned to Thompson, “Yes, I know of the spy,” Brandy said then smiled. “It’s Pamela Glassten. She’s the presidential receptionist down at the capitol building.”
Gasps sounded around the room, “How did you find that out?” Reynolds asked.
Slowly moving her gaze to each person in the room, “Guys, I learned in Mountain View to have intelligence set up,” Brandy told them. She wasn’t about to tell them it was Nancy who’d found out about Pamela a week ago and sent word via Michelle to Brandy.
“Has she been arrested?” Reynolds asked.
“Hell no!” Brandy snapped. “We don’t know who Pamela is talking to, but we will.” Not used to this level of intrigue and skill from Fern, everyone gained more respect for Brandy. “Reynolds,” Brandy said pointing at the map. “I want you to tell the Marines to come up with a plan for an amphibious assault here, west of Panama City. I want to know how long it will take them to get a full division on shore.”
Hearing the actual order of troop movement shocked the room cold. “Um, may I ask why?” Reynolds gulped.
“I hoped you would,” Brandy scoffed. “I want a plan in place to remove the feds from the Gulf. If they attack, we could use a landing there to pause their attack since they’ll have to respond,” Brandy said moving her finger back to the toe of Louisiana. “When the Marines land, I want a thrust from us here to link up with them. The area the battle is going to be in won’t be able to grow food, that’s central Mississippi and Alabama. We take away the southern half of those states all the way to Florida, and we hit the feds in the pantry. They’re already hurting for food, so let’s take away the land they need to grow more in the spring.”
All of them looked at Brandy like she was make-believe. “Guys, I’ve served but I learned tactics running Mountain View and let me tell you, not having food is a deal breaker for anyone,” Brandy informed them. “Intelligence reports are saying the deep state money men are spending billions to supply the feds with food, along with munitions. The funny thing is, I know of two shipments of rice we sold to Madagascar that were bought and shipped back to the East Coast. The money men paid ten times what we sold the rice for.”
“We have to stop that!” Thompson cried out.
Nodding, “Oh, we’ll stop it from reaching the feds, but I’ve arranged through a middleman in Madagascar to sell the feds another six shipments, but we get the difference in price paid in gold and not Madagascar,” Brandy told them with a grin. “That one transaction alone will almost cover the cost of the carrier we just launched.”
“Whoa,” Wagner mumbled, realizing Brandy was going to take the deep state’s money and sink the food the Republic sold them. “Can I vote for you again?” he asked and the smile dropped off Brandy’s face.
“Hell, no,” Brandy snapped. “When this shit’s over, I’m done with politics,” she informed everyone.
“Madam President,” Reynolds addressed her purposefully. “You have the gift and if more like you don’t step in, then we run the risk of ending up in the same place in the future.”
Gathering up her papers, “Gentlemen,” Brandy said. “I hate talking to world leaders in a give-and-take. If most of those leaders were out among their population more, we would’ve never ended up here. If the need arises, I pray someone else will take the helm because I’m done when this war ends, no matter if I’m here or in Missouri.”
Leaving the room, Brandy was thankful she was staying at this residence today and didn’t have to trek off across Dallas to another house. This Op/Con house was Fern’s main residence. Instead of heading to her bedroom, Brandy told Andrea to get some rest as she headed into the office.
Putting her papers on the desk, Brandy went over to the safe on the wall and paused until the combination Fern had given her filtered into her brain. Opening the safe, Brandy moved folders around until she reached a thick black binder that held the original constitution Fern had drawn up.
Closing the safe, Brandy moved over to the desk and sat down. She had read the constitution several times, but wanted to make sure Fern hadn’t left a good idea out. Getting comfortable, she opened the binder and started reading. There were hand-written notes on each page and Brandy noticed it was only Fern’s handwriting. “Shit, he didn’t let someone go over his raw thoughts,” she mumbled.
The language was much simpler in this draft but it was still the same, Brandy realized on the third page. When she went to turn the page, she stopped. There was a very slight change of color in the center of the page. Flipping it back and forth, Brandy at first thought Fern had spilled something, but the page didn’t look like it had ever had liquid on it. Going to the previous page, Brandy again noticed the minute color difference, but only on the back of the page.
Pressing the tabs to open the three metal rings, Brandy lifted out the third page and held it up to the light. “Holy fuck,” she gasped. Right there in the center of the page, clear as day, was a watermark. The watermark was a Sin Eater skull.
Chapter Fourteen
Cheese packets make my tummy hurt
Fog eased out from under Reaper’s mask as he ran his eyes over the snow-covered streets. It was the tenth of December and the snow had started coming down hard at noon. It was nearly sixteen hundred and there were two inches of snow on the ground in Eufaula, Alabama and Oracle relayed it was forecasted for six inches before morning. Snow was being reported all the way to Mobile, but that far south they were only projected to get two inches.
What Reaper didn’t like was the cold front coming behind the snowstorm and another storm was already building out west to follow this one. Snow was expected to remain on the ground until the New Year even this far south. Reaper didn’t like snow because it made moving harder but not impossible. There were things he did like, troops headed inside when it snowed and drones stayed on the ground.
Standing along the bank of the Walter F. George Reservoir near Governor’s Park, Reaper kept watch on the motel the military had taken over. There were twenty troops and a thirty-four Homeland Police force assigned to the area. Their job was to man a checkpoint at the main crossroads to monitor movement. Since very few serfs, ‘federal citizens’, Reaper corrected in his mind, were authorized to use cars, everyone who stayed was given new residences closer to the intersection. The only ones who lived in the country were farmers. The feds had shut electricity to any area not deemed important, so half the town was dark and those farmers were just SOL (Shit out of Luck). Reaper had to admit, it was a great way to lighten the burden of the power plants by shutting so much down.
Before the collapse, Eufaula had an estimated population of nearly fifteen thousand. Now, there were barely five thousand in town. The feds had several businesses running, like the lumber mill and a lighting company. There were others, and that’s where those left behind were working.
Like all towns and small cities under fed control, those who had weapons, voted for the elephant party, spoke out or went to church were all removed. The lucky ones were moved to a large city and placed in a ‘job’. Unlucky ones were sent to camps. Reaper was actually surprised there were nearly five thousand people left. He’d always thought everyone in Alabama had at least one gun.
“We have shit to do, can we just go kill the fuckers?” Pain whispered beside him. Letting his rifle go, Reaper shoved a hand under the white snowsuit he was wearing and pulled out a cheese packet. Ripping one end off, he shoved it under his mask and sucked the thick paste out.
“Oh, come on!” Pain groaned quietly, and her eyes got wide watching Reaper dig under his snowsuit and pull another jalapeno cheese packet out and suck it down. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she panted out. “I’ll stay here until the next ice age. Just stop eating that toxic crap.”
Shoving the empty packet in his suit, Reaper tapped his phone. “Phantom, it’s Reaper. Are you able to get to the guard house at the intersection?”
“Reaper, it’s Phantom. I’ve already taken out the five here.”
“Damn it! How come he can just attack and we have to wait?” Misery grumbled from Reaper’s other side. “Oh, shit,” she moaned, watching Reaper dig under his snowsuit to pull out another cheese packet and suck it down.
“Sisters, you need shut your asses high,” Ubiytsa said behind Reaper.
“You commie fucker,” Pain sighed and turned back to Ubiytsa. “You say, shut your asses up. Not high. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Narrowing his eyes at Pain, “High means up, same thing,” Ubiytsa popped off. All three turned to see Reaper ripping open another cheese pack. Tilting his head to Reaper in a slight bow, Ubiytsa spoke Russian and then turned his eyes back to the hotel.
“And you call me a kisser of ass,” Pain scoffed. When Reaper shoved his hand under his snowsuit yet again, Pain reached over and grabbed his hand. “Reaper, you’ve eaten like ten of those toxic, rotten, monkey ass packets since we left our rides. Chill out, please,” Pain begged.
Finally, Reaper turned, locking his eyes on Pain. “They’re good,” he told her, pulling out another.
Watching Reaper lift the packet to rip off one end, “Reaper, Misery and I are just excited to use our new tools you had made for us,” Pain got out fast and watched as Reaper held the packet with both hands but didn’t tear the top off. “This is the first time you promised us we could make ‘em ‘Ride the Rod’ and Cyclops is going to film it so, I’m sorry for both of us being excited.”
Even though Reaper was looking at her, Pain kept her eyes on the cheese packet. Turning away from Pain, Reaper shoved the unopened packet back under his snowsuit and Pain felt lightheaded with relief. “Either of you act stupid, and you’ll hold my hand every time I take a dump for the next week,” Reaper warned.
Stepping closer to Reaper and lowering her voice so the rest of the team didn’t hear, “Define ‘act stupid’, so we can avoid that at all costs,” Misery breathed. Reaper turned around and just looked into Misery’s eyes, never blinking. “We’ll figure it out,” Misery nodded as Ubiytsa whispered in Russian.
“Keep on, commie,” Pain warned.
Shaking his head, “Sisters, you ‘keep on’ and both of you will be wiping my ass after holding my hands after every dump I take,” Reaper warned.
“I try tell them,” Ubiytsa smirked.
“Ubiytsa, you’ll hold me up when I squat to take my dumps,” Reaper warned. Hearing the threat, Pain and Misery looked around with joy that Ubiytsa was in trouble also.
Behind the four with the others, Odin just shook his head. He knew what the sisters and Ubiytsa were doing, as did many others. Trying to lighten the emotional load Reaper was carrying. Everyone could see it, but only a few would attempt it. The relentless slaughter was wearing on all of them, not to mention the training and constant combat stress, but it was all starting to pile up on Reaper faster than it had been.
Like the other Sin Eaters, Odin was thankful for the sisters, Ubiytsa, Phantom for his dancing, Havoc for his enabling, and the few others, but Reaper was a big boy. Unless Odin had no choice, he wasn’t offering himself up to be near a Reaper cheese shit. When this was over, Odin was seriously considering sponsoring a bill in the Republic congress to outlaw MRE jalapeno cheese. But those who were taunting Reaper were also doing it to lighten the load on themselves as well.
Odin had smelled some funk in his life, but nothing even came close to a Reaper cheese dump.
Reaper reached up and tapped his phone, “Havoc, it’s Reaper.”
“Havoc here, and we’re ready,” he answered.
“You have any cheese packets?” Reaper asked, and all joy of Ubiytsa being in trouble left the sisters.
“I have twenty with me and another fifty in my ride,” Havoc answered rather cheerfully.
“Shit,” Thor mumbled, shaking his head.
Turning to Thor, “Act like a little girl and I’ll volunteer you to hold the toilet paper till Reaper needs it,” Odin cautioned.
Shaking his head, “I’ll roll my balls up in a vice till they’re flat as a pancake instead of standing close to a cheese dump,” Thor replied as Reaper tapped his phone.
“All units, it’s Reaper. Go,” he called out. Shoving his AR to his back, Reaper pulled a KRISS Vector from his side. Aiming at the motel, he led the group across the parking lot as three other groups of Sin Eaters converged from every direction. The thing that the feds made so easy, this was the only group in town that had guns.
Half his group stopped when they reached the parking lot, and covered the doors to the rooms as Reaper headed to the main office and restaurant. Falling snow seemed to put a hush over the world, but he could hear music from the restaurant. Unlike other fed places, the visitation area was where the feds were shacked up in the motel.
Moving around the pool, Reaper was able to see inside the restaurant windows and made a quick guess of two dozen feds inside with about that many visitation women. “Zeus, heel up,” Reaper said while aiming at the double entrance doors.
When he reached the doors, Reaper threw one open and moved inside. As Odin reached the other door, he threw it open before going in and Reaper was already pulling the trigger. Two were down before the group even registered Sin Eaters were pouring into the room.
“Zeus, attack!” Reaper barked and Zeus lunged past at a man getting to his feet and reaching for his holster. Seeing a big ass dog coming, he forgot the gun and threw up his hands to ward off the gaping mouth flying at him.
Other feds dove to the floor, forgetting to even go for a gun as the visitation girls started screaming. Swinging his submachine gun around and lining up the red dot on one of the screaming girls, Reaper pulled the trigger. Her scream cut off as the back of her head blew out, covering the other screaming women. “Shut the fuck up!” Reaper shouted and shot another one as Pain and Misery darted around Reaper.
Both had their Tasers out and dove on those feds cowering on the floor. It only took one pulse to knock someone out, then they crawled to the next as other Sin Eaters yanked Tasers off their forearms and joined the sisters. In thirty seconds it was over and Reaper was changing his magazine.
He turned to see Odin at the desk grabbing master key cards to open the hotel rooms. “Don’t take long,” Reaper said letting his submachine gun hang at his side, and Odin took off with Thor.
Reaper turned to notice all but one of the visitation women had backed into the far corner and were staring at the Sin Eaters like they were spawns of hell. Hearing tables moving, Reaper glanced over to see those feds that were tased being restrained and Ubiytsa was moving the tables end to end. Pulling the submachine sling over his head Reaper held it out, hitting Viper in the chest.
Without being told, Viper let his submachine hang and took Reaper’s. Reaching back, Reaper pulled his sword out and one of the visitation girls fainted. Casually walking over to a fed rolling around on the floor and holding her chest where she got shot, “Reaper has come for you,” he chuckled then slashed out, taking one of the woman’s hands off. Reversing the swing, Reaper chopped the other off. “Reaper said die, so stop trying to slow it down,” he told the woman as she screamed and jets of blood pumped from her stumps.
“He could’ve given her to us,” Misery mumbled to Pain as they took off their backpacks.
“Misery,” Pain said shaking her head. “I have to hold Reaper’s hand while he shits because you piss him off? Oh, we’ll fight, sister. I don’t know how he can eat that cheese because it hates his ass.”
The snowsuits everyone wore was just white cloth sewn into a baggy coat with a hood and pants. Their vests had white cloth glued on over the magazine holders to break up the multicam. When their vests were off, the sisters pulled their snow tops off and then reached for the packs. At the bottom of each one, it looked like a large bed roll when they pulled them out. Setting them on two of the tables Ubiytsa had shoved end to end, the sisters unwound the rolls. When the rolls were unfurled, everyone could see the brand-new, shiny, well-made tools of the sisters’ trade.
Both put on their white rubber aprons while other Sin Eaters started nailing the surviving feds onto tables. All of the feds were now struggling hard since the effects of the stun guns had worn off and they saw where they were heading. “Aw, don’t be like that,” Pain chuckled as she lifted up an electric impact drill. Attached to the drill was a glossy three-foot-long and one-inch-thick smooth metal rod.
Pulling the trigger on the impact drill, everyone in the room turned to the hum. The long metal rod opened out like a cylindrical fan in the center. When the drill stopped humming, the middle of the rod had opened up ten inches. Laughing, Pain hit reverse and pulled the trigger again to close the cylindrical fan until it was once again a smooth rod. “You get to be the first to ‘Ride the Rod’!” Pain cheered, moving to the closest table. “I’m just trying it out,” she told the other prisoners as the front door opened. “Can you guess where this is going to go?” Pain taunted the man strapped to the tables.
Walking in the front door, “Up the poop chute,” Phantom laughed as more bound prisoners were hauled in. “All feds that’re listed here are accounted for, Reaper.”
Giving a nod to Phantom as he eased up to Cyclops filming, “You puke again while the sisters’ work and you’ll become my bitch for life,” Reaper warned and Cyclops nodded. Inside, Cyclops vowed to never puke again.
Phantom ran over to the table Pain was at and started dancing. “Ride the rod, baby!” he sang out, busting a move. The prisoner started to thrash, but that didn’t stop or hinder Pain in the least.
Crying out against the gag as the rod was shoved in, the prisoner never heard Pain say, “Don’t worry, I cleaned it off.” When Pain pressed the trigger on the drill, the man let out a scream as the rod opened up. The whine changed to a lower pitch as the expansion met resistance. Even Ubiytsa gave a wince hearing the man’s pelvis give a loud, wet, tearing snap as he screamed into his gag. Three other prisoners already strapped or nailed to tables just passed out.
