An American Millennium:

Common Sense

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Chapter 11        

   

Section1

Section 2 (you are here)

Section 3

Section 4

Common Sense For  A New Millennium Essay

Friday, October 15, 1999, Gifford, Montana

 

            Leopard sat at the end of a long mahogany table in his meeting room.  The room was located in the back corner of a large home on his private estate.  Though this was where Leopard lived, and it was elegantly appointed in every aspect, for Leopard loved to be surrounded by expensive things, it also was a very severe environment.  There were guards posted around the property.  Some could be seen some could not.  He had come too far to not take every precaution; he was too important to be careless.

This morning, he had the heads of 12 of the most powerful militias in the country sitting in the room: Colonel Sharpe, General Thomas, General Blackburn, General Bronson, Captain Long, Lieutenant Francis, Lieutenant Anson, Lieutenant Giverny, Lieutenant Brown, Captain Hudson, Lieutenant Smythe, and Captain Blocker.  Also present were his right hand man, Frank Foreman, and his business backer, Max Porter.  Leopard had incense burning on the conference table, and he had the room quite dark.  Leopard asked for silence and for the meeting to proceed.

He got a quick report from each man, and then he spoke.  “After being underground, we are two weeks away from going public.  Certain events will give us a stage.  It is imperative that each of you knows what to do and does exactly as instructed.  The essay is almost finished, and its release will be powerful.  I’d like comments.”

Lieutenant Brown spoke up first.  “My Seattle soldiers are in great shape.  They’re itching to fight someone.  Whatever is ahead of us, my men asked me to convey to you that they’re with you.”

Leopard nodded his approval.

Captain Hudson from Tennessee then spoke.  “The FBI has been poking around our area.  We have really been laying low.  Can you tell us when we will engage the enemy?”

Leopard stared at the Captain.  “You men are my link to the militias.  You know that they are not aware of the depth of our plans, or, of our ambitious attack strategy.  Some of you here have not been briefed.  Our first priority will be to get all of the militias up to speed on our philosophies and strategies.  We will not discuss attack until the last week of December.  However, in 2 weeks, we will start a campaign that will cause the troops to scream for a fight.  In the mean time, drill them heavily in November and December.”

            Each of these men at the table had been with Leopard long enough to be afraid to question or cross him.  They seemed to draw confidence from his ruthlessness.  They felt invincible in his presence.  It was like drunkenness.  The euphoric place where one feels they can fly, or drive at high speeds, or take on a seasoned nation's local forces, and believe they can have a chance.  Leopard was not counting on just his militias.  He was counting on neutral Americans grabbing their guns and running to the aid of their neighbors and acquaintances in the militias, until the whole of neighborhoods and towns were feeling that the feds were their enemies and a foe they must obliterate.  Leopard also counted on the decency of the government to not use modern weaponry on its own citizens, but to sit paralyzed with confusion and frustration until it was too late.  It was a plan of deception, and suggestiveness.  In a short while, Leopard felt he would be the most powerful American alive.

 

 

Friday, October 15, 1999, Omaha, Nebraska

 

            Bob Madsen walked through the outer doors to Omaha’s current FBI headquarters and his temporary task force offices.  He made his way to his private office, and stopped at several desks out in the open to say good morning to some of his people.  He had 18 agents on his task force, many of them veterans and highly skilled professionals.  Bob was a good man, a family man, and he had the deepest concern for his nation and his family.  Until the person or persons behind these bombings could be located, no American was safe.  Bob was working 16-hour days.  Lately, he rarely saw his family.  He called home at least once a day, but he was so preoccupied with this case, that he had to remind himself to even call home.

As Bob arrived at his office, he laid down his briefcase, and looked at his desk.  He turned to head for the coffee pot, and as he did, special agent Ryan Peters stopped him in his tracks and blocked the doorway.

“Sir, I am sorry to bother you so early, but I have a hot tip on New Orleans, someone called to say it could be a target and that something was up.  The caller was on a cell phone, but not long enough, and we couldn’t trace it.  They did say that they would call us again in a few days with some more specific information.”

Bob looked at his younger agent.  He was an eager young man, always on the job early and leaving late.  He was also extremely devoted to Bob and the FBI.

Bob said, “I want to hear the moment that person calls back.  We have very little to go on.  Now, get out of my way, son, I need some coffee.”  The young agent smiled and headed back for his desk.  Bob thought for a moment about New Orleans and then forgot about it for several days.  That is, until he received an abrupt reminder.

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…that he may accomplish by craft and subtlety, in the long run, what he cannot do by force and violence in the short one.  Reconciliation and ruin are nearly related.

                                                                                    Thomas Paine, Common Sense, 1776

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12     

 

Friday, October 15, 1999, Denver, Colorado

 

            Jeff Graham sat on the front row of the Hyatt Grand Ballroom, and reviewed his notes.  Jeff was considered an expert on Y2K, and he was speaking today.  The symposium was for business and government people, and there were over 1000 people present.  They had come from all over the region.  He was so young to be heard by so many; it was sobering to him.  He had been asked to give an overview of the current computer problem, and any new insights he himself had.   Finally, it was Jeff's turn to speak.  He walked up to the podium.  After taking a drink of water, he began to speak.  He asked some assistants to distribute some handouts.  These would be notes that the audience would not have to take.  He wanted to insure that they missed nothing of the important points he was about to make.

 

Jeff Graham’s Speech

 

            “The Y2K problem has been called a bug.  But that term indicates a pest inside that is not locatable.  The real difficulty lies in a design problem, and to me, had it been named what it is, instead of calling it a bug, we might have had less fear in the public.  It is simply a design problem, on all levels.  Bugs, we are stuck with, but design problems can be corrected.  Now I know I am being technical with words, and design flaws have always been called bugs in automobiles, and other systems, but this problem has a different character altogether than the old design bugs in earlier days.  Many fear the worst.  I don't believe the worst is going to happen.  If design problems are located, and repaired, and enough money is spent to do so, we will have the upper hand on the Y2K design problems, and the confusion at year's end will be minimal.  We are about 75 days away from testing many decisions and theories.  Many experts have done much to correct many systems.  Time will be our teacher, and will correct our work, and will show us what we missed.  It is in people's nature to fear apocalyptic events, and I fear the ignorant have decided to turn the new millennium into just that, with the Y2K design problem as the culprit.  The commercial element has entered into the problem, and is doing a certain amount of exploitation of people's fears.  It profits certain groups to propagate hysteria about this issue. 

             Naturally, we don’t want to stick our heads in the sand, and we don’t want to show a lack of preparedness in the computer field, when we have known there may be problems.  Therefore, I will do my best to cover the basics.  If my discussion can help you think of something I haven't, then that is good.  If you get a good idea, share it with someone who is in the field, and who can circulate the information.  There is a hotline, where you can call and leave a recorded message; the number is on my handout.  The best solution to Y2K and the fallout is the teamwork of people, and the camaraderie of science and the citizenship of each nation involved.  At the last millennium, mankind had no such worry.  999 A.D. ended one night, and those people awoke the next morning. His plow, his ink quill pen, or his ax were just as operational the next morning as they were the night before.  It was 1000 A.D., and it equated to only a turned page on the calendar.  As you know, computer technology was not present.

Although computer technology today leaves us with challenges in the new millennium, I say today that computer technology is our ally, and not our enemy.  Does anyone know how far we are out of the manual age, or the age of non-automation?  The distance is not very far.  Many systems, that we rely on in this nation, were just put into computer systems; it happened in yours and my life- time.  Many more systems were computerized more recently.  In many of the recent upgrades of current computer systems, the millennium change was anticipated.  This is evident even in recent PC’s.  That means that the work force and the understanding that automation or computer functioning replaced is still around.  I am only stating that much of the fears would have been better founded if the computer design flaws surfaced in the years 2007, or 2015, because at that point, many workers with the understanding would be gone, and the world would certainly be lost in a maze of circuitry, and there would be little or no redemption from it.  Naturally, these problems could not happen anytime except in the millennial changeover.  I see Y2K as a good house cleaning that causes us to rethink some things and redo some things before that last generation of manual workers disappear from the scene.  It is late enough in history to cause us some irritating problems, and early enough in history to help us solve some!

            One of the first problems we have been working on is our software problem.  Software indicates, of course, programs that have been written.  We are not even into complete computerization yet; the computers of our world have mostly taken over informational functioning only.  Therefore, many systems that have computers to do their jobs are not totally lost in a shut down.  The simple job can be restarted by hand if need be, until the design problems are fixed.  One of the biggest concerns of any breakdowns in this vast informational system on January 1, is the potential for extreme lost revenues for businesses or public agencies.  The breakdown would be a top economic priority, and would be back up within a day or two.  It could take a week at the most. I am a Y2K troubleshooter, and can get anything working regarding this issue in 1-4 days.  I am not boasting; I am alleviating fears.  Many organizations that depend heavily on their computer systems, have done their homework, and there is no breakdown expected due to the money and time spent in advance.  The bottom line here is: informational jobs that are reliant on computers can be done by hand.  Although the huge informational highway of the Internet is a great tool, it is still not a necessity, as many think, with more than half of the population not able to use it, or even owning a personal computer. 

            The basic problem began when programmers used two digits for the dates to save data space.  This practice has not been done lately, but it was done enough to cause concern in some of the older applications.  In these particular programs, 1999 reads as “99,” and in this century, an “00” will be read as “1900,” -- still in this century.  This can cause some problems.  As I said, programs that were created after this problem was discovered have been made compliant.  But, old programs must be made compliant, and changed.  Even if one is made compliant, and it is dependent on another that is not, then it may shut down.  In this case, shut down is the best scenario.  The reason for this is that some systems will not shut down, but rather continue to feed each other false information, with the presumption of a date that is 100 years off.  More confusion can come from this set up and mishap, than merely a shutdown.  When you consider the computer systems that are connected to each other, and the way the informational system is dependent on each other, then that makes everyone getting involved very important, and each agency or firm getting their own systems and software up to speed very critical.  I find most are endeavoring to do just this.  

            The more serious of the Y2K problems is the hardware in computers.  Actual computers like PC’s or mainframes can be checked in their hardware, but there are so many products in our nation that have computer components, with embedded chips, that this is the biggest problem to solve for the new millennium.  This goes from airline systems all the way down to microwaves in homes.  It is from the most complex computer components to simple products.  There are so many products that most consumers would never expect to have a computer chip.  Many late model vehicles have chips, but they will probably not shut down because they are not directly dependent on any dating system, since cars are rated by mileage rather than years.  One of the real and valid problems is that manufacturers have bought these components without knowing if they were Y2K compliant.  On the flip side, many other manufactured computer products are simply too old for anyone to have cared.  In any case, there will no doubt be repairs or replacement of simple things, and a buying spree may follow January 1, of epic proportions.  Again, we cannot interpret this into mass chaos.  Many consumers are already calling about some of their goods and inquiring about embedded chips.  Many manufacturers are themselves checking, and many others don't know.  The computer chip industry will be good for a few years to come, in manufacturing replacement chips.  Buying stock in a chip manufacturer could be lucrative.  The questions is, are all chips equipped with dates, and are the dates recorded with the 2 digit or the 4 digit date code?  Some chip manufacturers indicate they used two digit numbering, and many chips do have date codes.  This part of the Y2K issue truly is the trial and error part.  Again, on January 1, and shortly thereafter, we may see, unequaled in retail spending history, an enormous spending spree to replace merchandise. I don't see how this can be anything but good for the economy. 

            As consumers and citizens, and any with public positions, we must have a thorough mindset here.  We are not subject to our machines.  Man is the master.  We can minimize the damage and the chaos of January 1 by using our reason.  Emptying the banks of all of your money would be most unwise.  Selling all stocks to buy metals would be unwise.  Our society cannot continue if we don't have faith in it.  If you want to compile a little cash or food contingency, that is all right.  As an expert in the computer field, I assure you that our country will be strong in 2000, with systems working or being repaired quickly if needed.  Mass fear and hysteria would be our undoing.  Steady, decisive, and prudent handling of all problems will be the answer to the Y2K design problems.  This is not an event of mass destruction or chaos.  I know we can accomplish what we need to if we pull together.  Simply spread the word you have heard here, so that Americans are looking forward to a bright future, instead of a danger filled one.” 

With that, Jeff sat down.  He received a huge applause.  As another speaker came forward, Jeff pondered about how good it felt to reassure people.  He knew he was right.  America could do it.  However, Jeff did not know about a plan so devious, that all the calming and encouraging speeches in the world could not prepare the nation for what it might go through in the next 75 days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When William the Conqueror subdued England, he gave them law at the point of the sword; and until we consent that the seat of government in America, be legally and authoritatively occupied, we shall be in danger of having it filled by some fortunate ruffian, who may treat us in the same manner, and then, where will be our freedom?  where our property?

                                                                                    Thomas Paine, Common Sense, 1776

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13     

 

 

July 4, 2004

 

            The old man continued to explain to his friend about the severity of the day, back in the year, 1999.  “The Y2K Bug had the fear and dread of Americans, as well as the whole world.  All of the experts agreed that there would be some type of consequence to certain earlier mistakes.  Our young friend, Jeff Graham, who graduated from college at 16 as a top computer expert, had as much grasp of that problem as anybody.  He really made a great contribution in a most interesting way.”

“But Ben,” the old man winked at his friend and went on, “we know what really happened on January 1, 2000, and those unfortunate souls of 1999 had to live that whole year in the misery of uncertainty.  Things had progressed so fast in the 90's, what with the Internet, and so much computer technology breakthrough.”

Ben chuckled.  “Computers!  You can have every one of them.  I am as scientific as the next person.  In fact, some of my experiments laid the foundation for some of that technology.”

The old man smiled with a knowing agreement and said, “Let’s get back to the story.  Michael Ingstrom saw great opportunity with the growing use of computers and the Internet.  He set up three different Web locations to communicate with his Lieutenants via encrypted letters and numbers.  This was not for the general populace of militia people.  Michael also saw another huge opportunity in the computer world.  This would be the binding tie.  Back in 1994, it came to Michael’s attention that there was a potential Y2K crisis approaching.  Until that time, he had planned a swift, armed takeover on Christmas Day, 1999.  He needed most of the feds to be idle and complacent when he moved his troops, and Christmas day was the best possible window of opportunity.

Then, he learned that January 1, 2000 was going to be a strange day.  The Y2K bug was possibly going to create a degree of chaos, confusion, and fear, and the Leopard movement might profit greatly from that scenario.  While the public was reeling from the chaos of Y2K, and looking to the government for answers, Michael would step in with distribution of food stores, supplies, and pamphlets of philosophy.  Not Satanic philosophy, but American Philosophy.  The Leopard Patriots would be heroes.  Each soldier or militia ‘pawn’ would be caught up in the altruistic nature of the project.  The feds, however, would mount attacks against them for the new philosophies, and the soldiers at the low levels would be drawn into conflict with the U.S. government.  It would appear that the government would be against the distribution of food.  Michael knew he needed just one good massacre to be able to publicly denounce the feds and their policies, even if it meant sacrificing his own patriots to be massacred.  He actually kind of hoped for that.  He could spare about 2,000 to 3,000 of his followers.  They would represent ‘innocent’ American citizens.  Public opinion, which translated into public support, was all that Leopard needed.

            To work the Y2K problem to his benefit, Michael collaborated with some top computer experts whom he had brought into his organization.  Michael changed the ‘D-day’ of his swift and sudden action to January 1, 2000.  No one knew that but his closest aides and inner circle.  Michael not only had computer experts, but actual scientific researchers working on his project.  The scientific field was not all the facet of society that he tapped.  Michael infiltrated the national military branches.  The Army, in particular, had a huge number of malcontents, and Michael made contact with some of its top officials.  Four generals in the Army were ready by August of 1999, to give allegiance to the Leopard movement.  Their main reasons were that the nation was veering off of a grass roots agenda, and they believed that America needed a shake up to bring it back to a conservatism once and for all.  These generals actually preferred a fascist type of philosophy to what they thought was a growing socialistic and communistic philosophy in the current liberal administration.  This was fear motivated, and the liberal left was not that bad.

While on the subject of fascism, it was an earmark of the Leopard movement to have racial bigotry.  There was not one black or Jew or dark skinned person in all of the militias.  There was no blatant philosophy preached publicly, but a racial hatred doctrine must have flowed as far down as the Lieutenants only, for not one of a different color could be found in the ranks.  How this was to play out after Leopard rose to power was any person’s guess.  To think of what atrocities might be looming against African-Americans and Jewish people makes one shudder.  A police state, in contact with the evil one through Satan worship, was exactly what was formulating.  The movement, on purpose, kept open bigotry low keyed so not one individual could claim a new Hitler type of regime would be coming to power.  In fact, the only real leading philosophy preached was the government of, by, and for the people.  It was hard to argue with or find fault with.  If you coupled that with the increasing socialistic views evident in the liberal American party in power, and with the seeming, but non-existent violent acts by federal agencies, it was a ‘no contest’ kind of choice on which philosophy and subsequent allegiance might be displayed.

             Leopard was able to make a solid connection with the world terrorist leader, Osama ben Laden, just after the Johannesburg bombing in 1998.  From then on, Michael had camps being set up in Mexico and Canada, with growing numbers of international terrorists being made ready to bring down the existing American Federal Government.  After their attempt at the World Trade Center, they needed a more effective way to infiltrate the nation, and Leopard was eager to assist with open arms.  Because of this international group, Leopard was able to amass 2500 terrorists, trained in commando warfare, in Mexico just across the border from Texas.  He had 4200 more in Canada, within 100 miles of the Montana border.  This was not a fact that the American militia could know, but on D-day, they would find themselves as comrade in arms with middle-east terrorists against their own American Government.  By then, the brainwashing would be so complete, that pumping ammo into a national guardsman or an ATF jacket would be highly preferable to turning around and mowing down a foreign invader from Iraq or the mid-east running close at one's heels.  Leopard’s plan was to use the foreign terrorists to overthrow the Federal government, but he intended to betray and slaughter them, using the militias, after coming to power.

            This type of nightmare was one that no person could see coming.  America was focused on the Y2K problem and lost in a maze of partisan fighting in their political parties.  That type of priority in the Washington politicians was a choice that was inadvertently handing the nation to evil foes, both foreign and domestic.  The President was involved that year in international issues, and was recovering from a scandal and the resulting fallout.  The impeachment proceedings ended soon enough, but the country had scars of great proportion.  Again, misplaced priorities in the White House and Congress left a gap in the fabric of the nation that created this opportunity for Leopard.  The threat was not exactly only Michael Ingstrom anymore.  Leopard was greater than Ingstrom.  It was greater than a man.  It was pure ideology, however elusive it might be, and it was a gathering of people together with rebellion on their minds.  So, if Leopard was a belief system, or a spirit, or a new party of politics, it was a dark force for sure.  Those who are spiritual insist that Leopard was a top-level demon working close to the evil one.  Michael was the human pawn to launch Leopard against America, but once it was rolling, it came in waves of terror, and the spirit of rebellion and conquest was in all who followed Leopard.   

            Leopard would have the foreign terrorists, from the northern and southern ends of the country, mobile and traveling on December 31, 1999.  The 3,000,000 person militia would show up in their units of 100-150 men and women on the same day, and that evening of the millennium, they would set up terrorist type attacks on key military installations first.  This would be a surprise attack using explosives.  The tanks and rocket launcher equipment that was seized in those attacks would be then available to the militias.  The militias had so many members that were Veterans and skilled soldiers; the use of the equipment presented no problem.  Heads of bases and high ranking military officials, that is, those that Leopard had not already gotten to, would be held and debriefed from their duties and allegiances and then given the opportunity to help turn their subordinates over into the Leopard movement.  Those refusing traitorous or rebellious acts would be instantly executed.  

            On December 31, 1999, Leopard would have key scientists and computer experts download a special computer program on the Internet containing a virus with an experimental component called synthetic neurons, (Synrons) that would, in essence, finish the job for the Y2K bug.  The virus, released through and directed at adult websites and financial institution websites, would annihilate the web in 4 days.  The destructive computer virus would be felt from each home all the way to Wall Street.  Leopard determined that the Y2K hysteria was mostly that, and he could profit from it, but he wanted the insurance policy that many computer systems would fail on January 1, 2000.  On January 2, 2000, Leopard planned to launch a replacement Internet for the previous one, issuing a non-contaminated access program, allowing him to be a national server, headquartered at his headquarters.  This huge feat of technology would be built on the earlier technology of thousands of computer experts, using some of the same equipment. 

            Technology was not weak in Leopard’s camp because he had money, and he bought the best specialists.  Venstar Communications, a company who had new satellite technology, also backed his movement.  On 12/30/99, the firm would launch 87 satellites as low flying units, about 500 miles up, which would orbit in a pattern with 3 different functions.  The first function would create a static barrier for CIA infrared satellites so that ground movement could not be easily deciphered; The second would take out key military communication signals; With the third, they were equipped with a special communications network on a newly created frequency that would provide special communications to the Leopard movement.  This one step was his most brilliant.  This one would give him a mighty edge.

In 1995, the Onyx Corporation bought a firm called Telcorp Communications, a manufacturer of computer chips for electronic communications equipment.  They made the components to radio systems, and they engineered the chips inside police car radios.  Almost every police car, or any federal agency car radio, including military police, had these chips.  Leopard, who controlled Onyx, saw to it that all of those chips were not Y2K compliant.  If they were checked, they were designed with a cover to simulate compliance, but they were not.  This would, by default, give any police and emergency vehicles that had these chips, radio silence at midnight on 12/31/99. Leopard would have radio communications with his new satellite systems, but the authorities would be at a disadvantage.  Not one official or computer expert suspected this, nor was it ever thought of before October 1999, by anyone, except one man, a computer expert in Denver, Colorado.  All this technology was created to enhance and fulfill the potential destructive work of the Y2K bug, something Leopard was counting on heavily.  Leopard, after 1997, was mostly responsible for spreading fear over Y2K in a subversive way, through an underground network, and pulling in credible people who bought the panic philosophy. 

              Leopard wanted power, and he expected to march on Washington D.C. in the first week of the new millennium.  As he entered the oval office, he would announce his rule over national television.  He would allow Congress to remain as a figurehead for some months, because the cover of a democracy suited him temporarily.  Leopard planned thousands of secret executions, including the current President, and his Vice President and Cabinet. 

            If Leopard could not gain control with this plan, he would at least create 25 years of chaos and anarchy that would repay the government that once spurned his genius.  The thrill was in the taking or the kill, not in the actual office of political power.  Leopard would be happy to go down in history as the one who brought down America, and he would eventually hand over power to his most loyal of followers. 

            The most dangerous and sad fact of the diabolical plan was that several Washington insiders had become part of it.  A few quite well known Congressmen were going to assist and share in the new regime.  There were also three governors, of powerful states, who were sympathetic.  A major chain of strategically located newspapers would give Leopard press coverage at the critical time.  Leopard also had an offshore television station set up, with the ability to broadcast live to the nation when the time came to do so.  Leopard had all the rudiments of a powerful rebellion except, one thing, the hearts of the American people.  They would need special handling.  This was to be done with a call to arms of the common man with a national news release, and a video broadcast to the news agencies after a series of bombings beginning in October of 1999.  The news release would be done in the first week of November, and the movement would begin to surface throughout the rest of that month.  Leopard would stay on the move in November and December, along with his top Lieutenants, to stay out of the reach of the FBI, until his “D-day.”

At the request of the Uni-bomber, the media had aired that lunatic’s philosophy.  The media had also immediately released the Starr Report.  Leopard knew there was no limit to what the American media was willing to release to the nation.  By the time they realized what and who they had given free coverage to, it would be too late.  If Leopard found no greedy or ambitious and unprincipled newspaper that would give him coverage, he was not concerned; he already had one in his pocket anyway.  Leopard would have the ability to broadcast himself.  On Friday, November 5, 1999, Leopard planned the release of a seeming patriotic statement, patterned after Thomas Paine’s Common Sense, in a national newspaper; the piece would go national on the UPI and AP by that Sunday, November 6.  This release would be supplemented with the posting of a Website on the Internet, sharing Leopard’s statement of philosophy.  Beginning on Monday, November 8, Leopard would launch Internet websites accessible to the average citizen, but would continue the encrypted style of communicating to his Lieutenants around the country.  On the day the Website was posted, the political statement with Paine's influence would be printed into handbills, and distributed by the 3,000,000-member militia.  Anyone interested and who had gripes about the government would receive one and was instructed to create 100 copies to distribute.  Leopard had the computations of an exponential curve computed, and he believed he could cover the nation with handbills in 18 days.  This would be completed by Thanksgiving Day.  (3,000,000 X 100 x 100 x100, etc, etc.)  This type of networking would sway many daily.

            After a few years, Leopard planned to uncover a new state religion.  Not, however, before he showed them extremely impressive breakthroughs in technology and prosperity.  Leopard had a plan to feed all the people in the nation.  Leopard also had plans of mandatory abortions of specific races, and euthanasia of the diseased and elderly.  Leopard was cruel and ruthless; he had ideals that cut across everything America stood for, and, he didn’t care for his own followers or the nation.  Leopard would release a vengeful campaign against Christianity that would call for mass executions and the burning of churches.  Leopard was in communication now with the Christian Purity movement, and he planned to make it the state church.  Its philosophy was segregation and purging of all non-whites, and this movement deluded itself into thinking that was a Christian doctrine.  The hate doctrine of the Christian Purity leaders was closer to Leopard’s satanic doctrine than anyone realized, but Leopard knew it. 

            These were the plans of Leopard and his followers.  These were the plans to launch the largest rebellion since the civil war.  At the time of the civil war, the nation was still young and the Union was able to squash the South in an infantry war.  The issues were clear, and the South was violating a moral law.  Abraham Lincoln and a solidly unified North dealt God’s justice on that immorality.  The Union was strong.  This new rebellious threat was going to catch a society off guard; a society who had been long wandering from the values they were founded on, and with many self serving politicians who had learned to play politics like a game, but without the deepest concern for their constituents and the future generations of Americans.  The sudden attack and intended overthrow was going to catch a President off guard who had entertained his own needs and interests above the nation, in a prior year, and created huge fallout as a consequence.  The strategy was going to hit strategic points in a secure system that had long decided that military might was 2nd or 3rd or 4th to other programs, and that material comfort and high debt living was preferable to financial fiscal soundness in the citizens.  A nation, who had grown fat on the passive activity of entertainment, and who had grown soft from the blessings of technology and automation was going to be put to a test.  Moreover, the biggest enemy of the people would be their lack of unity.  They no longer knew how to pull together, because they lived in an impersonal society where citizens no longer knew their neighbors, and their fellowman was worth no more to them than giving them an obscene gesture, a barrage of obscenities, and full hatred on the freeways and highways of the land. 

            If there was going to be success in the Leopard camp, and an overthrow of everything that Americans held dear, the blame would be on the people, because evil will always provide a man like Leopard to challenge what is good and sacred, in an environment where people have long ago stopped caring.  Leopard knew the feds would put up a good stand, but he knew if he could capture the people's hearts, well, the feds were just people.  They could individually, one by one, join the movement, or they could die.  He knew that the so-called feds were caring Americans, but he wouldn’t tell his Lieutenants and his militias that; they thought the feds were monsters. 

     This was the dark world of Leopard, in 1999, just days before the first full millennium of America.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When a man has a concealed project in his brain that he wants to bring forward, and fears will not succeed, he begins with it as physicians do by suspected poison, try it first on an animal; if it agree with the stomach of the animal he makes further experiments, and this was the way John took.  His brain was teeming with projects to overturn the liberties of America and the representative system of government, and he began by hinting it in little companies.  ....

                                                Thomas Paine, To The Citizens Of The United States, 1802-3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

  Chapter 14

  

 

Friday, October 15, 1999, Seattle, Washington

 

            Ralph dialed the last digit of Frederickson’s phone number.  The phone rang twice, and then a recording came on the line.  “The phone number you have called has been disconnected, and there is no new number.”  Ralph hung up the phone, and sat at his desk and tapped the pencil on the desk.  So he has moved or he is dead, thought Ralph.  Ralph had been following the news articles in the Tribune about terrorists, and he kept thinking about the story he was told.  He had a man missing or dead, and, he had a line on the possible suspects and thought he needed to do more than just sit around.  It was the cop in him.  He did his job very well.  He wasn't by the book, but he knew how to track like a bloodhound.  Now, the bombings in Omaha and Portland gave new meaning to the story of the militias.  He got the story days before the first bombing.  It was a lead that might prevent more bombings. 

            Ralph picked up the phone and called for directory assistance in New York.  Ralph dialed the number, and the phone rang.  A receptionist answered, and Ralph asked for her.

The voice came on the line in a few moments.  “Sheila Halpren here.”

“Ms Halpren, this is Detective Ralph D’amico of the Seattle Police Department.  I’d like to ask you a few questions about your articles.”

Sheila was business like and to the point.  “Sure, Detective, but I have a deadline, so we need to be quick.  But I am always glad to help the police.”

Ralph then asked his question, “You say you have some sources around the nation who supply you information for your articles.  Didn’t you write that yesterday?”

“Yes, I did Ralph.  What would you like to know?”  Sheila was on guard.

“I’d like to speak to one of them about my state.”

Sheila was hesitant.  “I usually don't give their numbers out.”

“Well,” said Ralph, “you could be helping the police like you said you liked to do.”

Sheila was getting impatient.  She would at least go for an exchange of information.  “What’s going on out there, Ralph, that has a city cop calling me?  What have you heard?”

Ralph knew how to play the game.  “Oh, I got a cock-n-bull story about these militias.  I don’t know if there is any truth in it or not.  A man is missing, and I am checking it out.”

Sheila didn't seem too interested in Ralph's information now.  “Well detective, I have to go. The man you want to talk to is Bob Madsen in the FBI.  He is in Omaha.  I just spoke to him an hour ago.”

Great, thought Ralph.  The FBI and me.  “OK, what’s his number?”

Sheila looked in her planner for the number.  “Are you staying out of that wind today?”  Sheila was making small talk.  “Wait.  I found the number.  506-344-7829.”

Ralph wrote the number down.  “How did you know it was windy here?”

“I spoke with a man in Washington just awhile ago.  He told me it was windy.”

Ralph thought this was a strange coincidence and was beginning to think he was really on to something.  He wanted to know who had called this same reporter he was now talking to.  Maybe Frederickson called her.  Trying not to seem too interested, he asked, “What was his name?”

Sheila thought for a moment.  “Brooks.  Justin Brooks.”  Ralph stood up at his desk.  This was interesting.  He had called her on his case about Phil, and this was a name from what he thought was a totally unrelated case, Heidi Baxter.  He had had some unanswered questions about this Justin Brooks.  When he spoke with Brooks on the phone, he had sounded strange; he sounded stressed and emotional.

Ralph asked Sheila, “Did he call you?”

“Yes he did.  He was just asking questions.  It sounded like he was at a payphone.  He asked me if I knew how many militias were in the nation.  He also wanted to know if I knew any militia people in Idaho or Montana.  Do you know him?”

Ralph had a hundred wheels turning in his head.  “Maybe I do.  I have to go, but thanks for the information.  If you get out this way, look me up.”

Sheila chuckled.  “Thanks detective, I will.”  

            Ralph hung the phone and looked at his watch.  11:30 AM.  He could make Wenatchee by 3:30 PM.  He gathered a few things from his desk and hurried out of the precinct. 

            Sheila sat back in her chair and reflected.  Her reporter instincts were bristling.  That cop knows something.  He was very surprised about the guy named Brooks.  Then he tried hard to cover it.  It seems there are more than winds blowing in Washington.  With that thought, Sheila spun around in her chair, faced her keyboard, and muttered to herself, “deadlines are deadlines.”

 

 

Friday, October 15, 1999, Wenatchee, Washington

 

            Justin sat in his office at the school, looking out the window.  The campus was looking deserted.  There were only a few cars left in the parking lot.  These were the few who had late classes or were still finishing up in the Library.  Everyone else had gone or was going home to their families, and no one knew or shared his burden.  The big maple trees that dotted the grounds had the beautiful varied colors that punctuated autumn.  He felt so alone.  He had taught a few classes, and he knew he had to get home to work on the essay.  It was 4:30 PM.  A knock at his door startled him.  He looked up to see a man walking into his office.

Ralph walked up to Justin and shook his hand.  “Hello Mr. Brooks, I am Detective Ralph D’Amico of the Seattle PD; we spoke on the phone about Heidi.”

Justin was shocked.  He couldn’t be seen talking to this man.  Leopard had eyes everywhere. “Hello.  I, uh, am surprised to see you.”

Ralph smiled.  “I’m full of surprises.”

Justin looked around nervously, and then leaned over to Ralph.  In a whisper he said, “Can we go somewhere else to talk?”

His curiosity heightened, Ralph nodded.

Still in a whisper, Justin said, “Follow me out in 5 minutes.”  With that, Justin walked out the door.  Justin waited out in the parking lot until he could see that Ralph saw him, and then he got in his car and drove out.  Justin drove to a small coffee shop in a remote part of town.  Ralph pulled up a minute later.  The two men walked in and sat down at a booth in the back corner.  A waitress brought them coffee.

Ralph, eager to get to the reason for his visit, broke the silence.  “I have a problem.  A certain person’s name keeps popping up in my homicides, and I need to know why.  That name is Justin Brooks.”

Justin winced when his name was mentioned.  However, he was curious and said,  “I know about one.  What are the others?”

 Ralph explained.  “I called the reporter at the American Tribune, and she said that you had called her too, asking for some information.  What is your interest in her articles?”

Justin was trapped, but maybe this was good.  Maybe it was time.  Justin had been tormented for too long.  He missed his family.  All of a sudden, Justin broke down, right at the table, right in the middle of the restaurant, and right in front of Ralph.

Ralph wasn’t embarrassed.  He gave him a minute, then pulled napkins out of the container, and gave them to the crying younger man.  This side of Ralph was different.  He was exhibiting a sensitivity and compassion that few ever saw, but was in fact there, deep inside.  “Tell me about it Justin.”  Ralph sounded like a father. 

            “They have my family, and they have me.  I am unwillingly involved in a major plot against our government.  That girl was killed because of me.  I called Sheila because I was desperate, and I wanted an FBI contact.”

Ralph stared at Justin.  The coffee shop was only half full with what seemed to be “regulars,” enjoying their coffee and each other’s company.  The back ground clinking of plates and cups and the low pitch of voices did not distract the two men sitting opposite each other, intently focused on the other’s words.  They didn’t even notice when the waitress came by and filled their coffee cups.  Ralph asked, “Is it a militia problem?”

Justin and Ralph made eye contact.  “Yes,” said Justin, “they are involved.”

Ralph knew it.  This explained the murder of Phil, and the story by Frederickson.  Here it was.  His two homicides were related.  Now, he was excited.  The pieces of his two puzzles were not only beginning to fall into place, but they were going to make one big puzzle!  Ralph could now accelerate the hunt.  He was a good cop, and a huge threat to criminals. 

            “Who is your contact?” asked Ralph.

“There are several, but I have dealt with the top guy himself.  He calls himself ‘Leopard.’  That’s the only name I know him by.”  Justin went on to tell Ralph about the Thomas Paine connection, and his essay deadline.  He told him about the note.  He told him about the rides out of state.  At least he thought they were out of state.  He told Ralph about the resort his family was being held at.  He told him of John Walker, and Heidi.

Ralph shared with Justin about his meeting with Frederickson, and his bizarre story.  Suddenly, he saw the real threat of Leopard, and the enormity of Leopard’s plan.  Millions of militia people were involved in a nation-wide conspiracy.  Justin was unwittingly instrumental in helping them formulate a philosophy.

Justin felt despair setting in.  He was certain that Ralph would bring in the FBI, and his wife and children would be killed.  Ralph, however, had no such intentions.  Ralph didn’t want to deal with the FBI.  Ralph was somewhat of a maverick and he preferred working alone.  He felt that he had more control that way.  Ralph’s partner was off on leave and ever since Ralph's partner was hurt, Ralph found himself cutting corners.  There was a degree of ego here, but Ralph felt kind of like the Dirty Harry of the Northwest.

Ralph looked at Justin.  “Meet me here at 9:00 AM tomorrow morning.  I have a plan.”

Justin didn’t say anything, but nodded at Ralph, and got up and left.  He didn’t know if this meeting had been the right thing to do.  He only knew that he had to do something, and he needed someone he could trust.  He wanted to trust Ralph.  He hoped he was right.

The two men had totally different emotions.  One was very confused and afraid; Justin was in way over his head.  The other, well, he felt a tiger had come alive in him.  As he got up out of the booth, he put his hand under his coat and felt the trigger of his gun with his index finger.  As he stood at the cashier, paying the bill, he muttered to himself, “it’s time to go Leopard hunting.”

 

 

 

                       

 

 

 

 

 

......The plan of the leaders of the faction was to overthrow the liberties of the New World, and place government on the corrupt system of the Old.  They wanted to hold their power by a more lasting tenure than the choice of their constituents.  It is impossible to account for their conduct and the measures they adopted on any other ground.

                                                Thomas Paine, To The Citizens Of The United States, 1802-3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15  

 

Friday Evening, October 15, 1999, Houston, Texas

 

            This next act was bizarre.  Seven recruits of a militia group in Houston, Texas, headed by Lieutenant Smythe were in a van on the outskirts of the city.  Smythe was with them.  The van was blown to bits.  Every man was killed.  The explosion immediately hit the local news, and within minutes, it was national.  An anonymous caller indicated the dead were all members of a local militia who were going on drills for the weekend.  This was perplexing to the authorities.  The FBI task force was looking for domestic terrorists, and certain militia persons.  Now, it appeared that the militia was under attack also.  The country, with the help of the media, began to spend time asking questions and went into a huge time of speculation.  Who had done this?  Was this a smoke screen? Were the one’s responsible for the Omaha blast trying to confuse authorities and the public?  Or, was someone, or some agency, trying to wipe out a militia organization?

The men were pictured on the next evening's news.  The men were all fathers and husbands. Many of their friends were interviewed.  The press reported that seven Americans were now dead. Rumors spread quickly through the families of the dead, that it was the work of a Federal hit squad. It was rumored in secret that even the President himself may have authorized it.  The country was being played with.  The truth was being undermined, and manipulated.  The press had become Leopard’s tool, using the FBI task force and the public like a cat with a mouse, batting it around for hours before taking a big crunchy bite that would snuff out its life!  It did not matter to Leopard that he had lost a top Lieutenant and several soldiers.  He had a purpose, and revolutions had a cost!

 

 

Saturday, October 16, 1999, New York City, New York

 

            Sheila was typing away at her keyboard as fast as her fingers would allow.  The new bombing was an incredible and interesting twist for her articles.  Things were happening too fast.  She had phoned Bob Madsen at the FBI task force office in Omaha.  He was totally confused.  His people were scratching for leads or clues, and he didn’t like Sheila’s opinion when she gave it to him.  Unfortunately, he agreed with her.  The bombings were not over.  They were terrorizing, and some of the task force and other key individuals felt that the nation was in for it in some way or another.  The FBI Director put every available man and woman on the case.  To have two bombings on Federal offices, and now, some of the group under suspicion themselves killed with a bomb, was very worrisome to the authorities.  What was going on?  Were these bombings tied together?  Sheila promised Bob that she would add a footnote in her next article that would ask for any leads to be called in to her newspaper, or, directly to the FBI task force.  You never could know who might call, or what they might know that would help the authorities.  Someone had to know something.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But to accomplish that object, a standing army and a prodigal revenue must be raised; and to obtain these, pretenses must be invented to deceive.  Alarms of danger that did not exist even in imagination, but in the direst spirit of lying, were spread abroad.  Apostacy stalked through the land in the garb of patriotism, and the torch of treason blinded for a while the flame of liberty.

                                            Thomas Paine, To The Citizens Of The United States, 1802-3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Chapter 16

 

Saturday, October 16, 1999, Wenatchee, Washington

 

            As arranged the day before, Ralph and Justin met at 9:00 AM.  They waited for their coffee and then Ralph tossed Justin a package, and said, “Open it.”  Justin opened the package to find two short wave radios.

”These are also cell phones,” said Ralph.  We will communicate with these, even if I'm in Seattle.  If your home or office is bugged, you’ll have to get in your car and go for a drive, or turn on the shower for noise cover, but this will work.”

Justin looked at Ralph.  He was going to have to put his trust in this man.  “So what’s the plan?”  Justin was curious.

“Its simple,” said Ralph with confidence.  “I will find your family, and we will, together, go and get them back.  When did you say the essay deadline was?”

“The 31st of the month,” answered Justin.

Ralph scratched his head for a minute.  “I’ll go back to Seattle this afternoon and work on a few leads I have.  Things are coming together and after talking to you, things are making a lot more sense.”

This time Ralph left first.  He was eager to get going—he had things to do and there was no time to waste.  Justin sat there and looked at the phone.  This guy was take charge.  Justin needed that.  Before yesterday, he was totally on his own.  But, should he blindly be following Ralph’s lead?   No one else could help him.  He dare not risk bringing in anyone else.  Ralph did find him first.  It was because of Leopard murdering that poor innocent girl.  Maybe he shouldn’t question Ralph.  He needed to trust and he needed help.  He also knew that if Leopard discovered his involvement with this detective, he could say that Ralph had searched him out.  He could also add that it was because of Leopard.         

            Justin left the coffee shop and went home.  Maybe he would not have to finish the essay.  Maybe Ralph’s plan would work.  Ralph had not given him any real details, probably for his own protection.  He also seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t like to waste a lot of time talking.  He was more of a “just get it done” sort of guy.  He wished, though, that he knew more.  There was, however, no way to know.

Justin was agonizing.  He collapsed across his bed and lay there.  He thought about praying, but he hadn’t prayed for years.  Justin was raised a Baptist, but his questioning mind got the better of him.  When he went off to college, he dismissed the God of his childhood from the rank as his God.  But maybe He still was.  Maybe He doesn’t dismiss us so easily, Justin thought.  Justin had nowhere else to turn.  His circumstances were closing in all around him.  He felt as thought he couldn’t breathe.  He didn’t know what might happen.  He wanted to fight for his family, but he felt, that at least up to this point, his patience in not doing anything was correct.  The next step was too big.  He felt that all the evil of the world was against him.

Justin decided to pray.  He cleared his throat.  He felt a little sheepish.  He was back in God’s face when he needed Him, but not when his life was going well.  He felt ashamed.  This stark self-honesty was Justin’s trademark, a part of his character.  It was with this honesty that he approached God.  “God, I am back.  This feels strange.  I need you to help me get my family back.  I need you to help Ralph find them, and, I need peace.  I ask you this in the name of Jesus.  Amen.”  Justin felt peace coming to his tormented mind.  He actually got sleepy.  He had the best night’s sleep in weeks.  However, within a day or two, he had completely forgotten that he had even prayed.

 

 

Tuesday, October 19, 1999, Seattle, Washington

 

Ralph knocked on the door to Frederickson’s house.  No one answered.  He let himself in and walked around the house.  The house was vacant.  No furniture, food, or even trash was left behind. The house was “clean.”  Ralph walked next door, and knocked on the neighbor’s door.  A small, little old lady opened the door.

Ralph presented his badge to the woman and, referring to Frederickson’s house asked, “M’am, do you know what became of the man who lived at that address?

Eager to be of help and extremely curious, the woman answered, “He moved a few weeks ago.  He said he was leaving the country.  I didn’t speak much with him.  He kind of kept to himself.”

Ralph thanked the woman, who wanted to offer more but couldn’t, and headed back to his office.  While driving, he mentally went over the events of the last few weeks.  I checked Phil’s house, no body was found.  I followed up on two murders.  I contacted Brooks.  “Wait a minute!”  Ralph quickly braked and pulled to the side of the road.  He looked through his pockets, searching thoroughly, and finally pulled out the blank tablet paper from Phil’s house.  He had forgotten it.  He got back on the road, drove hastily to the precinct, and parked his car.  Once inside, he walked down stairs to the forensic lab.  Bill, the technician on duty, was absorbed in some paperwork.

Ralph interrupted him.  “Bill, would you check out this tablet paper for me.  I think there is a name or phone number on it.”

Bill, who abhorred the necessary paperwork of his job, but loved the technical side eagerly put his pen down and jumped up.  Glad for the interruption he said, “Sure.”  He took the small piece of paper and set about to put it through the usual process.  Sure enough, it had a number on it. Seven digits.  It was a phone number.

Ralph thanked him, went to his office, and called the number.  Police always act fast.  Leads and clues get colder and colder when not acted on immediately.  The phone rang 3 times.  Then a voice mail picked up the call.  “You have reached Barry Brown.  Leave a number, I will call you back.”  Brown’s recording was short, and to the point.

Ralph left a message, with his home number.  He said, “A friend told me that you have a weekend warrior type of organization.  Call me; I may be interested in joining.  The phone number is 467-3452.”

Ralph hoped this was the right guy.  He was going on Frederickson's story.  Brown was a leader in the militia, or at least a spokesperson.  If they did kill Phil, then they probably killed Heidi, or they know who did it.  They probably also knew where Justin’s family was.

That night, Ralph had gone to bed early, but was sleeping lightly.  At 10:15 PM, the phone rang.  The voice on the line said, “I am looking for Ralph.”

Ralph was half asleep.  “I’m Ralph.”

“You said you wanted to join our weekend activities.  How did you hear about us?”

“From a friend.”

“Who?”

Ralph needed a logical answer here.  His mind raced for the right one.  “Uh, a guy named Phil, but that was 3 months ago.  I didn’t know him that well.  Come to think of it, he hasn’t been around lately.”

The voice on the other end agreed.  “Yeh, right.  If you’re interested in joining up with us, I’ll tell you how to meet with me.  Be at the Walmart parking lot, on Lakewood Blvd., tomorrow at 7:30 PM.  I’ll meet you there.  Don’t be late.”

With that, the man hung up and Ralph lay there and thought about the good break he’d just gotten.  Ralph had no way of knowing the immense evil in Lieutenant Brown.  Brown was a close confidant of Leopard, and he had killed many for Leopard.  Brown was a Viet Nam veteran, and had never quite fit back into society after that war.  The skills he had learned in Viet Nam were useless to him until he met Leopard; his skills were to kill with his hands, his weapons, or with bombs.  Brown was a man who had been trained by America only to later turn on her.  This was a sad paradox.

Brown did not fit the pattern of the average militia member, in whom there was a greater innocence.  Rather, he fit the pattern of a ruthless criminal conspirator, like Timothy McVeigh.  The dangerous part was that Brown was in charge of a group of many of these innocent and somewhat naďve Americans.  This was Leopard’s doing.

On the other hand, Brown had no way of knowing that Ralph was out to fry big fish, and that he was equally dangerous.  Ralph was street smart.  Although he was older, and not as quick as he used to be, he had had many brushes with death, and his instincts were like a wise old cat.  He sensed things, and his hair would stand up on the back of his neck if danger were near.  He was the most aggressive officer in the department; he could easily forget a criminal’s rights and slap him until he talks.  His Captain usually paired him with mild, “by the book” partners, who kept him in line.  Fortunately, he had no partner for a few weeks, and he was on his own. 

             It has been said that when you have two equally powerful men in opposition to one another, and the men may have a totally different frame of reference, one being on the side of evil, and one on the side of good, that, over all, good will prevail.  Ralph believed this to be so.  Despite the rising crime rate, He had seen what he believed to be good, those who represented law and order, prevail.  It was this belief that gave him the aggressive boldness that had become a part of his reputation, part of who he was.  It motivated his ‘never give up’ attitude and gave him much success and respect, even with the criminal element.

            Brown was a professional killer of the most evil kind.  Brown answered to Leopard, who was in touch with the powers of darkness.  However, if there was one person in the northwest who Brown needed to watch out for, it was Ralph, but he did not know this.  The two men’s destinies would cross.  The 6’4” Ralph D’Amico would be no one to cross or get in the way of.  Evil has its own way of finding destruction.  It is a principle of God’s kingdom.  God’s judgment hand would be in a lawman that was looking for his suspect.  Brown’s deep combative training would be needed, but it would fail him.

Ralph removed all his police gear at about 6:30 PM, and dressed in a pair of levis and a flannel shirt.  He would meet them unarmed, without a badge.  He was Ralph, the contractor.  He hoped that he had never locked anyone up that would be there. 

            At 7:20 PM, Ralph pulled up to the Walmart Parking lot, and parked his car.  He got out and stood by it.  A car not far from him started its engine and pulled towards him with the lights off.  There were two men in the car.  They stopped the car and both got out.

One came up to Ralph and said, “Are you Ralph?”  Ralph said he was.  “Well, you don’t mind if my friend here searches you, do you.  We’re a close knit group and we like to be careful about who we’re letting in.”

Ralph shrugged his shoulders and gave his approval.  He was very glad he had left his gun, handcuffs, and badge at home.  The other man patted Ralph down and said, “he’s clear.”

The first man then relaxed and with a smile, shook Ralph’s hand and said, “I’m Barry Brown.  I’m in charge.  If you want in to our group, you need to tell me a little about yourself.”

Ralph told him that he was a contractor, and that he had heard about these types of groups and had been wanting to get together with other men to drill and do war-type exercises.  He had been waiting to meet the right people for a long time.  Ralph went on to tell them he had lived in Seattle for approximately 2 years, and that he came from Texas.  His slight southern drawl helped his facade.  He shared that it was in Texas that his interest in guns started.

Barry Brown stood in front of Ralph and stared him in the eye.  He was looking for any feelings or perception he could use to get a handle on the new guy.  If he suspected a plant, or a cop, or the slightest fear or falsity, it would be over.  Ralph stared back.  Ralph was not weak on nerve.  Suddenly Barry Brown burst into laughter.  He said, “We can find uses for you, mister.”

After Ralph provided a few other minor details, Barry Brown told him he would contact him in a few days for some weekend activity.  With that, the two men got in the car and drove off.  The other man, whom Barry never identified, was driving, and Barry sat in the passenger seat.  When they were out of the parking lot, Ralph jumped in his car and sped towards the other exit.  He took a route around the block and came in behind their car at a safe distance back.  He had done this a few times before.  Ralph followed the two men across town, until the man driving pulled up to a house and dropped Barry off.  Ralph was pulled over, with his headlights off, way down the street.  The man sped off, and after Ralph made a note of which house Barry went into, he took off after the driver and followed him to a residence.  The man went inside, apparently for the evening.

Ralph now knew the addresses of two men tied to a local militia.  Ralph could bet that both men, or at least Barry, knew something about the two murders, and the whereabouts of Justin’s family.  He was gaining ground and it felt good.  He would go home to a beer.  He was newly divorced, for the second time, and his grown children were sympathetic to his ex-wife and her side of the divorce.  Ralph was alone and because of a loneliness that he would never admit to, he did not know what he would do without his job.  He was just a few years to retirement.  Ralph would take his time with these militiamen.  He had to be careful and patient.  He wanted to do some things before taking any action.  Time was short, but for things to turn out the way he wanted, he had better do his homework.  This was not his ordinary case.  This was not an ordinary investigation.  There were innocent lives hanging in the balance.  A wrong move on his part could cost a lot.

 

 

Wednesday October 20, 1999, Wenatchee, Washington

 

            Justin was playing with the essay.  He had a hunch that Ralph would have success, and so he had lost focus on the essay that Leopard was expecting.  It was hard for him to write anyway.  Imagine writing a convincing plea to the citizens to rebel against our government.  How could he do something that wasn’t in his heart in the first place?  From what he had seen and learned of Leopard, he knew he was a master of deception.  Leopard certainly must have a contingency plan if he didn’t like the essay, or, if Justin decided to not do it.  The opinions that Leopard had given in his outline were strong and not unfounded.  The government had made some serious mistakes.  The political climate was volatile.  If any man did want to come against the government, he would never have a better opportunity, but he would also have to be very cunning.  He would also need enough money, and he would need military might.  It is possible that Justin had at the first underestimated Leopard.  He would not do so again.  He now considered that this was about as critical a time as America had seen in 130 years.  But, only he and one other person, who might care, knew it.  Justin did not know Leopard’s exact plans, or what his schedule was, but he knew something was coming, and he wondered if his beloved America would change forever.

 

           

  Thursday, October 21, 1999

 

            Justin arose early the next morning and turned on the news.  The bombings were still a big item, but no progress had been made in the investigation.  Three bombings since October 1, and no one knew who or where would be next.  International terrorists, rather than domestic, were now being blamed.  According to the media, investigations were fixed outside the perimeters of the nation.  Justin thought that was ridiculous.  The bombing of his own men had added the confusion factor that Leopard had counted on.  The public’s sentiment for the lost men, who were in the militia, was stronger than the lost federal agents.  The country had begun to walk in a major deception.  Like Adam and Eve in the garden, America could never turn on one of her own, unless there was great deception.

The next item on the news was the polls.  The President approval rating was 52%.  Congresses approval rating was 42%.  The question was put to the public in an unofficial poll: how would you rate the government’s handling of terrorism?  38% said it was acceptable, 62% said it was poor.  Another question was asked: How many believed that our government needed major modifications or reform?  65%!  Justin could not believe it.  It was as if Leopard was writing the questions.  Was it the young?  Were they in great discontent?  The year of 1999 started strong.  The President was acquitted, and the storm in Washington D.C. blew over.  Nevertheless, there had been a decline all year long.  Certain personalities in office had soured American citizens on the offices themselves.  This was sad to Justin, because he knew there was no better system and no better offices than the Presidency and Congress, anywhere in the world.  No land had better agencies than the FBI or the ATF.  Many unappreciated men and women, who served our country, often put their lives on the line and performed services that strengthened our land.  Justin was bewildered by these reports, as he got ready to head to his office at the college.

            On his way to work, Justin got a call from Ralph, on the special phone that Ralph had given him.  It startled him at first.  He wasn’t used to it.  At the same time, he was relieved and said, “It’s good to hear from you, I thought something happened to you.”

Ralph could hear the fondness and relief in Justin’s voice.  “How are you holding up kid?”  Ralph was genuinely concerned.

“Oh, I’m alright.  I want to do something, though.  Sitting around and just thinking about things only makes me worry more.”

“Your chance is coming.  I’m making some preparations.  I want you to know that I am going to bring a friend in on this.  He has helped me with difficult cases from time to time.”

Justin was cautious.  “Can he be trusted?”

Ralph replied, “This guy is great.  I have trusted him with my life many times.  And, he would not talk to the FBI, if that is what you mean.  He is a little bit covert, if you know what I mean.”

“Whatever you think,” answered Justin.  “I am putting my trust in you anyway.  I have no other choice.”  And with an attempt at humor, which he hadn’t had in days, Justin said, “I am sure Seattle’s finest is on the case.”

Ralph laughed.  “We are taking action next week.  Possibly on Thursday.  I’ll call you.”  With that, Ralph hung up and Justin closed up the phone.  Let's see, thought Justin, that would be the 28th of October.  That is 3 days before the essay deadline.  I am sure I will hear from Leopard before that.  Ralph, I hope you know what you are doing.  You are cutting it kind of close.  Leopard must have a huge plan unfolding when he gets the essay.  It made Justin shudder.  He would think of something else, like having Angie back.  No, that thought made him worry too.  He couldn’t lose Angie.  She and the kids were his life.

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  For what purpose could an army of 25,000 men be wanted?  A single reflection might have taught the most credulous that while the war raged between France and England, neither could spare a man to invade America.  For what purpose, then, could it be wanted?  The case carries its own explanation.  It was wanted for the purpose of destroying the representative system, for it could be employed for no other.

                                             Thomas Paine, To The Citizens Of The United States, 1802-3

           

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter   17    

 

Monday, October 25, 1999, Seattle, Washington

 

Ralph picked up the phone at his station, and dialed Sheila Halpren’s number.  Her articles had run their course.  She had stirred up much, and she was responsible for bringing Ralph and Justin together.  She was a good contact and her position gave her some power.  While Ralph waited for the phone to be answered, he wondered how far would her newspaper go to back her.  Finally, a Tribune receptionist came on the line.  Ralph asked for Sheila.  “Sheila Halpren here.”

Ralph spoke.  “Sheila, this is Ralph D’Amico.  Remember?  With the Seattle Police Department?”

“Oh yes, I remember you.  The bombings, and the task force.  What can I do for you?”

Ralph knew he had to get her interest, but could he trust her?

“I do have a story and I’m willing to share it with you, but you have to move slow for reasons I can't explain.”

Sheila was interested.  Usually, someone wanted something, and they wanted it right now.  Here was a guy that dangled a carrot, and then said, “go slow.”

Feigning only mild interest she said, “What do you want from me?”  Sheila was, however, very interested.  She had been a reporter long enough to know when she had something good.  This sixth sense had gotten her where she was today.  It wasn’t, however, just having it, it was her ability to handle people and hear them and get what she wanted without scaring them off.  Her mind was racing.  Where would this conversation lead?  What did this Detective Ralph D’Amico know?

“I want access to your FBI contacts, when the time comes, and I want your paper to expose something, when the time comes.”

Sheila was intrigued.  Her instincts had told her this guy had something good several days back when she had first spoken to him.  She asked, “Can you give something now as good faith, and to show me this is worth pursuing?”

Ralph thought for a minute.  “Murder, kidnapping, extortion, and a plan to come against the whole government.  Just little stuff.”  Ralph was cynical.

Sheila though, was taking him seriously.  “I’m coming out there.”  Sheila had made up her mind.  She didn’t want to get this possible story long distance.

“That is not necessary.  I will give you what I have promised.  A person could get hurt out here.”  Ralph really didn’t want anyone else snooping around.

Sheila was adamant.  “Detective D’Amico, I am a big girl.  You want my resources, and my paper.  Now, I need to be there.  Besides, I have some more information.  You might be able to use it.”

Was she bluffing?  She helped him before and she had exposure to what he was up against from a more investigative stand point.  So he would risk it.  “Ok,” Ralph shrugged , “let me know when you’ll be here.”  Sheila looked at her calendar, and told him she’d be there the next day, Tuesday.

 

 

Tuesday, October 26, 1999, Minneapolis, Minnesota

 

            Leopard walked into the lobby of his friend’s office building.  A deliveryman, going out, turned and ran into him with a quite a hard bump.  The man felt pain in his arm.  He was a head taller than Leopard, and he was kind of crude.  “Hey buddy, watch where you’re going.”  He stood face to face with Leopard, and stared at him.  The man clenched his fist, and dared the smaller man to make a move.  Leopard stared back, but on his face was a smirk, a cool half grin, and he didn't take his eyes off the man's eyes.  The larger man broke into a sweat, and his knees began to shake.  What was going on he thought, this guy is so small, and I can take him.  I know I can.  Just the same, he couldn’t get control of his shaking, and the next thing he knew, he was about to vomit.  He turned and ran out the door of the lobby and ran for the parking garage.  Leopard burst out laughing. “Tough guy,” he mused to himself.

He got on the elevator and went to the 16th floor.  When the elevator opened, Max Porter, his old friend, greeted him.  This man was the owner of the Onyx Corporation, Onyx Inc.  He had a transportation business and he was very rich.  He had been with Leopard and involved with his plans about 8 years.  This floor was a secret center for the record keeping and infrastructure of the whole movement.  Max had six floors of this building, but the Leopard movement wholly manned this one floor.  It was here that they tracked the militias, and had all the computer equipment.  There were 75 personnel here, working full time, at Leopard’s disposal. 

“How are the simulations going?”  Leopard was asking Max about a computer game he had designed that pit the American government against the Leopard movement.  The normal tactical response of the FBI and the National Guard, and the public response and public opinion polls were all factored in.  The society in the game was modeled after America, and computer programmers and sociologists designed the program.  Twenty-five technicians worked response controls, as simulated government officials and specialists, and 15 people worked controls as Leopard Movement operatives, using the real strategy as their game plan.  Leopard kept revising the strategy as the results kept being altered in the computer game.  He had about 5 days until the real plan was launched against the nation.  He wanted perfection, but he would settle for a 15% margin of error.

“The simulations are going well,” said Max.  “The margin is down to 25%.  The plan will be ready by the 31st.”

Leopard looked pleased.  In a low voice, he said, “Let’s go to the Pentagram.”  The Pentagram was a five pointed, angled room he and Max had designed.  It was named for the Pentagon.  It was in the middle of the 16th floor, and it was very private.  It was there, that many schemes against the government were birthed.  Both men felt the room was a place of strong power.               Once inside, Leopard turned to Max.  “I am concerned about Justin and the essay.  The man is moral, and stubborn.  He says he is complying, but I believe it is an act.  I will check him out on Thursday night for his progress.  If he hasn't performed as instructed, I'll have him killed.  If that happens, I want plan 2 to come into play.  I will have to let you know Friday, won't I?”  Leopard smiled.  “Either Justin will be alive on Friday, or he will be dead.”

Max sat down on a chair and carefully said, “The simulation with plan 2 is at a 32% error rate.

Leopard’s eyes flashed with demonic anger at Max.  “Get it right, and do it now!”

Max winced and quickly responded, “We will work late on it.  I’ll keep you posted.”

Leopard smiled.  “I know you will, Max.  I know you will.”  Leopard left the offices of Onyx Inc., and went to his car.  He started the long drive back to Montana.  He had to be at Venstar Communications the next day.  They not only had the satellite project, but they were working on the Y2K failure.  Leopard would leave nothing to chance.  He personally oversaw everything that was being worked on.  The plan he had worked on for years was about to be launched.  It was his baby.  He had put much hope in the essay, and he knew he wanted it as much as anything.  He needed a strong way to influence the “decent” people of America.

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18  

 

July 4, 2004

 

            The old man continued his story.  “The man, Michael Ingstrom, was complex.  He did not have an identity of his own when he began his great undertaking, but as he went, he assumed one, based on his developing views.  Many clinicians would call his condition manic-depressive, or schizophrenic.  Possibly, this was because he could change like the wind.  His views of the militias were of a certain design, and his views of his Lieutenants were quite different.  Again, his views of his closest aides and friends were still different.  His view in private, of his own mind, was totally different than any man had ever seen of him or heard.  The militias saw him as patriot, a concerned American, radical world changer, idealist, caring citizen, and so on.  This was his strong front and this is where Thomas Paine and Justin Brooks came into the picture.

Leopard’s Lieutenants saw him in quite another light.  He would let his hair down, so to speak, in their presence.  He was professional, business like, and ruthless.  His vision, his opinion was everything, even of human life; this portrayed a strong leader to them.  They were hardened strong leaders themselves, many being ex-military, and Michael knew they had to see him in this fashion to believe in him.  Of course, each Lieutenant bought the political propaganda completely, but each one also knew Michael to be a Satanist, an ambitious political man, a ruthless killer, and one they assumed would rule tightly and stiffly without much explanation.  These Lieutenants were so brainwashed against our federal government that they felt a strong centralized leadership was desperately needed. 

            Michael’s inner circle of friends, the ones who had grown with him, the ones who had previously used drugs with him, and conducted occultic practices with him, knew him to be a debase, low, mean, and sadistic individual.  There was no depth of evil that they had not seen him lower himself to.  He went through many women, and never had any one relationship for very long. He would cast them off quickly and start over.  His was proud of his sex life, and what he thought were his strengths and prowess’s, but no woman who had shared a bed with him could ever talk openly of it again afterward.  Many of them disappeared, never to be found, and none of them ever were let in on Leopard’s ambitions.  The violence was another issue.  He and his followers did countless murders.  His underworld was skilled in never leaving a trace of any kind.

            All of his philosophies and ways flowed out of the way Michael felt in his very heart.  This was his inner sanctum, his altar before the evil one, and the place where no other person could imagine.  It was in this place that he carried a despising of mankind and a hatred of humanity that was unequal to all the evil villains that had gone before him.  He had many times contemplated suicide, but knew he had much to do first.  His suicide would be the ultimate gift to his master.  First, however, he would bring a reign of terror on mankind the world had never seen, with his own end the crowning closing chapter to his corrupt existence.  He thought of these things daily.

             Imagine his sheer delight when he learned that Adolph Hitler rose to power while practicing the occult, and that Hitler drew his many top field marshals and aides into the occult with him.  How Michael admired the man that had a generation of Germans thinking of his vision, fighting for him, and sacrificing their very lives for him.  Michael was in awe of the Nazi war machine that practically conquered all of Europe, and literally seemed invincible for years, drawing supernatural power from the evil one.  It is said that the Jews that were exterminated by Hitler, were the sacrifices to Hitler’s master from where he drew his power.  Both he and his henchmen were as drunk on murder and blood, and as crazed and unstoppable as a strong man high on drugs.  Michael knew this principle of sacrifice to his master so well, and he had plans for groups he hated.  Michael learned certain details about Hitler in 1991, and from that time, studied him, but rarely spoke his name.  That would be for obvious reasons. 

 

The Typical Lieutenant

 

            The average Lieutenant was dark.  Many were that way when Michael found them, and many, he made that way.  They usually had combat experience, or they were criminals, and most had little family life.  “Lieutenant” was not so much a rank, as a position of trust with Leopard.  Even the generals or colonels were “Lieutenants.”  These henchmen willingly, and with excellence, did their leader’s bidding.  They would die for the cause.  Michael had enough Lieutenants to do considerable damage; they were thousands strong.  Each of them was a militia leader, but they were different than the average militia member.  They had strong views of hate, epecially against minorities and Jews, but they were skilled in delivering the information to the groups so as not to lose any. 

The Typical Militia Person

 

            These “militia” groups were made up of men and women.  However, they were mostly men.  Fathers and husbands were the core, men who were well known in their work places, and in their neighborhoods.  Many worked in local Little Leagues, Boy Scouts, and so on.  Most were blue-collar workers.  These people loved their country.  They did not carry the dark intent of Leopard.  But, because of their reverence for guns, and their fantasies about battling an unknown foe, they would not be hard to draw into a conflict in just hours, with the right conditions.  If their Lieutenant was in a serious fight for his life, they would have to decide loyalties fast.  Therefore, subtle, anti-fed sentiments and hate of certain groupings of society were seeded heavily into these groups. 

            The average militia person drove a 4x4 vehicle, wore a baseball cap, had a variety of guns, and was a member in good standing of the NRA.  They liked to hunt and fish, sit by a warm campfire, sip a good beer, and have their friends around them.  Such was the person Leopard wanted to use to carry out his revolt.  These men and women were proud to call themselves, “Leopard Patriots.”  That is, as long as they didn’t know the true agenda.  If a militia man or woman did find it out, they were dead. Such was the case of many. 

 

The Typical Scientist, Political Person, or Corporate Person, in the Leopard Movement

 

            Many of these were spurned in their field, and were already out of the loop of goodwill of their contemporaries when Leopard found them.  Many of them were brilliant.  Some of them knew Leopard’s plan, some only guessed.  These experts and people of high responsibility were encouraged into the occult.  This was accomplished by paring the men with women in the occult, and the women with men.  Leopard had a group of witches who loved this work.  Many of them were beautiful, so it was easy to lure the subject into things.

There were approximately 1800 people from this group scattered throughout the nation.  They were in waiting, and they watched for the cues.  These fence sitters were not in as deep as the Lieutenants.  These ones were going to go with the power, whoever it would end up being.  They were in government, on Wall Street, in the military, and in scientific laboratories all around the nation.  Some of them were CEO’s of huge corporations, and many of them were doing business with Leopard’s closest financiers.  Leopard counted on this group to influence many, in the white collar field, in the technical fields, and in government.”

 

The Spiritual Being Behind The Leopard Movement

 

            The old man paused from his narrative and asked, “Ben, how behind the scenes would you like me to go?”  The old man was asking his listener a very good question.  He had a lot of information and details that he could share if the listener were interested.

Ben eagerly replied, “All the way.  Tell it all.”  He had always enjoyed a good story and he was a very good listener.

The old man picked up his tea and stirred it again.  The tea replenished itself in his cup as he drank it.  He went on with his tale, “The true responsibility for this rebellion goes all the way to the top of the kingdom of darkness.  There was one evil entity who was the most responsible.”

            This being had done the bidding of the evil one since the great exit from Heaven.  A powerful angel himself, he adapted, as did Lucifer, to the bowels of Hell.  Lucifer, who became known as Satan, awarded him the position of keeper and ruler of the bottomless pit.  It was also promised to this wicked ruler, by Satan himself, that he would be the controlling being in the Anti-Christ, a man of great power, at the end of man’s time.  Since Satan did not know when this might be, he sent this being, this Warlord, to every man who showed great promise of fulfilling this prophecy.

             For varied, ancient, and future purposes, Satan wanted all of Europe, and he waited until the 20th century to take it.  He then sent this ruler into the leaders who showed promise.  The attempt, however, failed each time.  With each World War, they learned more.  The taking of all of Europe came closest in 1944, and then the effort began dwindling in 1945.  Not since Alexander the Great, and Greece, did this wicked being have such a pawn as Adolph Hitler.  The Almighty from Heaven had declared it was not in His timetable, and sent a messenger Angel to state it, in Hell.  With that, the attempt fizzled.  The Almighty’s great principle, that men and women defeat evil themselves, was a great one.  This was accomplished at the most strategic points with ever so minor and infrequent supernatural help from Him, in answer to prayer.  The principle is simple.  God could squash Satan and all evil at any time, but to have his beloved mankind do it was to rub the evil one’s nose in his own defeats.  This principle also allows God’s children to grow in strength and unity against a common foe, and it awakens them to prayer, which is His only means of communication with them.  To allow evil to exist and attack at times through human history was to help all men and women to rethink and regroup, to purge themselves of evil, to get close to their Creator again, and to be tested so that evil does not overtake the whole human race.  There was coming a time that God would deal with all evil, but until that time, He coached His own children to overcome the evil one.  This has been His way all through the ages.  The allies of World War II were the hand of God, and their great resistance against the magnitude of evil that had invaded the Earth, was His plan.  America herself was most instrumental in defeating Hitler, and the evil one swore he would get even with America.

             As Adolph Hitler, in a small bunker in Berlin, Germany, pumped three rounds into his brain, this ruler from the underworld let out a blood-curling scream, and fled into oblivion.  He did not resurface again until 1962, and the cold war.  The Cuban missile crisis stirred hope in the evil one, of a new opportunity.  He summoned this special ruler from his dark place, and the ruler was given the order to use his own judgment in the decision.  He took one look at Castro, the Soviets, and the growing situation in the Caribbean, and quickly returned to the bottomless pit.  It would be a generation before he returned again to the affairs of men.

            He was told about Michael Ingstrom, and the great threat to overthrow America and occupy the White House.  That one ambitious statement by Michael was repeated all through Hell, and became a famous theme to rally around, and with this renewed hope to conquer the free world, this ruler was dispatched to Michael Ingstrom.  He was not the only evil being in Michael, there were many, but he was the highest ranking, the “Strong Man,” and he had the greatest control.  This happened in 1988.  From that time on, Michael had great skill and insight, and, he had great hatred. His supernatural abilities rapidly advanced his plans.  Those who were evil themselves, and were inhabited by evil beings, were attracted to Michael, and they had a supernatural awareness that this was the one to follow. 

           

The old man, who had been staring off into an unseen distance, set his cup down and again checked to see if his friend had grown weary of the long tale and perhaps fallen asleep.  Not only was he not asleep, but he was also sitting on the edge of his chair and leaning forward to not miss a single word of his old friend’s amazing account.

They smiled at each other.  “Don’t stop now,” cried Ben, “you have me literally on the edge of my seat.  You can relate a story like no other.” 

“Well,” laughed the old man, “except perhaps you!”

They laughed heartily together, because it was true that Ben also loved to tell a good story and had shared many adventures as well.

After their laughing subsided, the old man continued, “I guess the only thing I haven’t yet told you in this saga is who this evil ruler was.  Because of his involvement, America was facing the biggest, most horrific trial of her short life.  His name in ancient Hebrew is “Abaddon,” which, in that language, means “Angel of the Abyss.”  His Greek name, however, brings more understanding to this crisis of 1999.  His Greek name is “Apollyon,” which means “DESTRUCTION.”  Though this was his evil identity, he was quite content to be known by the name that Michael had chosen for him.  “Leopard.”  Alone, Michael was dangerous, but, when Michael was in the passionate throws of ambition, Leopard or “Apollyon,” was awakened inside him.  This occurred at least several hours a day and together, they seemed almost invincible.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Chapter   19    

 

 

Tuesday, October 26, 1999, New Orleans, Louisiana

 

            The task force in Omaha had received an anonymous lead.  Bob Madsen immediately dispatched it to the local New Orleans offices of the FBI.  It was a fairly routine lead for the FBI.  However, because of the recent bombings, every lead was thoroughly examined.

In response to the tip, two agents went to a modest home in a quiet, suburban neighborhood near New Orleans.  Two bicycles lay on the recently mowed front lawn and a 10-year-old Ford pick-up was parked in the driveway.  Someone had recently planted some purple and yellow flowers in a planter box by the front door.  The agents noticed all of these details as they approached the front door.  They were trained to notice the normal as well as the abnormal.  This home looked, in everyway, peaceful and “normal.”

They continued to remain alert as they approached and knocked on the front door.  The next thing they knew, bullets were flying everywhere.  Guns drawn, they raced back to their cars and called for backup.  Within 20 minutes, five other cars from the FBI were there.  Four police units also responded, including a SWAT team.  It was determined that there were two gunmen inside the house.  The FBI told them to throw out their weapons and come out slowly, one at a time, with their hands on their heads.  They only answered with gunfire.  The FBI continued to give the shooters every opportunity to surrender peacefully, informing them they were surrounded and there was no way of escape.  However, each time they spoke, the shooters responded with a volley of bullets.  Their ammunition supply seemed endless.  Realizing the futility of attempting to communicate, a SWAT team, now strategically positioned around the house, was ordered to fire canisters of tear gas through windows.  The law enforcement teams were ready, with guns raised, for the shooters to exit the house.  They hoped, however, that they would not need to fire them.  Less than 45 seconds after the tear gas was released, the two men, coughing and choking, exploded out of the front door with a flurry of gunfire.  They acted as if they hadn’t even heard the warnings.  Both of them were immediately shot and killed by the FBI agents and local police.

Standing afar off, the news media watched in horror.  It was over as quickly as it had begun. How this could have happened, was inconceivable.  Every aspect of the incident and every possibility was played up by the media.  The public got to see, over and over, on every national and local network, video taped footage of what had happened.  Inside the house, an investigation revealed that these were domestic terrorists.  The house was full of a diversity of weaponry and explosives.  It was hoped that further investigation would reveal whether these two men were, perhaps, tied to the recent bombings.  The media stayed as close to the scene as was permitted, hoping to get a piece of new information to pass on to the public.  Their numbers had doubled in just a few hours as various law enforcement agencies, especially the FBI combed the house for more clues as to the shooters’ specific identities and allegiances.  Many questions arose.  Who else was involved?  Who called in the anonymous threat?  What made the two men seem to want to die? There was more to learn and the hungry media was determined to get all of the ghastly details.

The militias, however, would learn the next day through this same media, that these fallen men were their comrades.  The media played down the role of local law enforcement.  It was the FBI against these suspects.  Every news source was reporting that particular viewpoint.  The result was that a rage and outcry was beginning to well up in the bowels of the militias all across the country.  They were incensed and their outcry was exactly what Leopard had counted on.

Now in the normal way of things, this incident made no sense.  But, in Leopard’s scheme, he needed more anti-fed sentiment.  To him, it made much sense.  That next evening, the whole nation was in an uproar.  Militia groups were upset.  Leopard had had these men trained to respond with deadly fire.  They were actually brainwashed to think that they were targets of assassination.  From that first knock on the door, this is what they assumed.  These men were certain that this was the end.  They were fighting men, and they would not go down without a fight.

 

 

Tuesday, October 26, 1999, Gifford, Montana

 

             Leopard got up from his desk and put another colored tack on a huge map of the country.  He smiled and thought to himself, these tacks are forming a shape on my map.  This is a confirmation.  Thank you, master.

 

 

Tuesday, October 26, 1999, Seattle, Washington

 

            Ralph sat at his desk in the police station, doing some paperwork.  He got a call from the front desk.  “Sheila Halpren is here to see you.”

Ralph sighed, “I’ll be out there in a minute.”  He set down his pen with a mild frustration, pushed back his chair, and made his way to the front.  He took a deep breath to steady his irritation. He had dealt with reporters before.  His experiences with them had not left him relishing this meeting.  They always took too much time and they all seemed to think they were detectives and that their ideas were what the police should be working on.  In short, they were a pain in the neck.

As he rounded the corner, he saw her.  Though there were others in the room, she stood out and he knew immediately whom she was.  She was tall and slender with blonde hair, and a pretty face.  She was dressed in a sharp, but casual suit, and wore medium height heels, which only accentuated her long legs.  Her looks weren’t everything.  There was something in the way she stood; she was confident and alert.  She did not seem like the type to be easily intimidated by anything or anyone.  Of course, Ralph knew this from his two phone conversations with her.  Still, he was amazed, no, surprised, and pleased, at her demeanor.  She was classy, feminine and professional looking, all at the same time.  Ralph raised his eyebrows.  He walked up to her, held out his hand, and said, “Sheila, how are you, I’m Ralph D’Amico.”

Sheila had been taking in her surroundings.  Like a good reporter, she always noticed her surroundings and the people in them.  She had loved watching people ever since a little girl, and seeing what she could figure out about them by the details she observed.

She now looked at Ralph and smiled.  “Nice to meet you Ralph.”  She shook his hand very business like, and she tried to be as professional as possible.  Ralph asked her if she had had lunch, because he was hungry, and they needed to get away to discuss the case.

“That would be fine,” said Sheila.  They quickly exited the busy police station and headed for a small diner in Ralph’s car.  Ralph ordered the sandwich special, and Sheila ordered a salad.

As they waited for their food, Ralph began the discussion.  “I have a few ground rules here.” Ralph knew he had the upper hand as the law enforcement person, but he still felt it was wise to make sure that there was no misunderstanding.  “I don't want you to talk to anyone about this case until I say so.  I have a hostage crisis, a kidnapping, and a family in danger.  If the kidnappers even suspect I am involved, the hostages would probably be killed.

Sheila nodded.  Sheila had suspected that something big was up from her previous discussion with Ralph.  She just hadn’t realized it was such a desperate situation.  In an assuring voice, she said, “Ralph, I am here to research only, and observe.  Don’t worry about me.”  With that, she opened her notebook, and smiled.  “Ralph, tell me what has happened so far.”

Ralph began where he had entered the picture.  He told her of Heidi, and Phil, and Frederickson, and he told her of his link to Justin.

Sheila interjected, “Right, Justin Brooks.  I know him.”  She was referring to her one time phone conversation with him.  Ralph went on to tell her about Leopard and the Leopard Patriots.  He told her of the plot that was developing against the nation, and how it was centered around an essay that Justin was to write, about Thomas Paine, for the traitorous movement.

Sheila looked perplexed.  “Thomas Paine?  That name sounds so familiar.”

Ralph looked across the table at Sheila.  “I don’t remember much from history in my school days, but I guess this Paine guy was very key to our revolution and our birth as a nation.  Somehow, this guy named Leopard thinks he can resurrect Paine’s views to serve some modern revolutionary purpose.”

Sheila was intrigued.  “No fiction could be more amazing than this story; it gives me chills. To think that there is the real threat of a clash in America, with people wanting total revolt and a change of our system.”

 Ralph rolled his eyes.  “Some things are way over my head.  I’m not too keen on politics.  I just do my job.  And that, keeps me pretty busy.”

Sheila looked across the table at Ralph.  This guy is actually kind of handsome, if he’d lose a few pounds, and dress up a little.  “I think you probably do your job very well, Detective Ralph.”

Ralph smiled at the compliment.  “I was called last night by a contact I made in the militia group.  He is close to the leader, and he thinks I’m a joiner.  He wants to meet me on Friday for my first weekend.  I have spent the last week tailing the guy, and his associate; they both have lead me to quite a few other people involved.  There are some places, though, that I haven’t yet located.  For instance, the leader’s place, or their camp around here, or, and most importantly, the place where Justin’s family is being held.”

Sheila was listening intently.  She was amazed at what Ralph had accomplished in such a short time.  He knew his stuff.  He also, she thought, would make an excellent investigative reporter.

“What about you Sheila, what have you dug up?”

“Well,” began Sheila, “I am in touch with the head of the FBI task force almost daily.  This is the special task force set up to investigate the recent bombings.  But, I don’t tell him all.  I also received a call from a guy in Denver who is a computer expert.  He had read my articles, and said that he found some Websites on the Internet that he thinks may be subversive and underground.  He says the sites have encrypted material.  In a casual conversation with his wife about these sights, it occurred to them, in light of the recent bombings, that these sights just might be linked to domestic terrorism.  He is trying to crack the code, but hasn’t had success.  It’s kind of a personal challenge with him.  What made him suspicious was the fact that some dates in the site matched the dates of the bombings.  He is going to the FBI soon, but he wants to crack the code first.  He agreed to give me the story, and go to my FBI contact, who also has promised to give me the story.”

Ralph was interested in the computer connection.  He figured it would line up with Frederickson’s story.  Sheila had brought forth more helpful information than he thought she would.  He was pondering this new information, which gave the current scenario an even broader perspective, when he suddenly realized Sheila was expecting a response.

As Ralph turned his attention back to her, Sheila smiled and asked assertively, “What is our next step?”  She was eager to get on with it.

“I am going to bring Justin over to Seattle.  We’re going to make some waves in this case, but we have to be very careful.  We have to protect this guy and his family at all costs.”

 

 

Time:  Outside of man’s measured time.  Location: Somewhere in the Universe. 

 

The Archangel shot through the heavens faster than light.  He had a message to deliver, and he was glad.  Why the Lord had let things go on so long was a mystery, but He has infinite wisdom.  The enemy was in trouble.  The Lord had been watching Justin, and was pleased that he showed great promise.  The Lord indicated he would get help for Justin, and the Archangel thought he was speaking of the police officer.  No, said the Lord, his help will be of a spiritual nature, from one the Lord had prepared for this time.  The Lord fondly acknowledged the police officer, and said he had a big heart, but he lives by the sword.  Justin would need a man who lives by the Word of God.  The Word is the sword of God.  The Archangel arrived in Hell, to deliver the news to Satan. 

 

 

Tuesday, October 26,1999, Wenatchee, Washington

 

            Justin was tired.  He thought about his family, but tried not to.  He would go crazy, if he worried too much.  It was 10:00 P.M.  He heard the distant cell phone ringing out by the television. He had left the television on to mask the ringing cell phone.  He rushed to answer it.  “Justin, its Ralph.”

Justin seemed relieved.  “What’s going on Ralph?”

“I need you over here in Seattle.  Can you come tomorrow, and meet me at a restaurant at 2:00 P.M.?”

Justin thought for a moment about Ralph’s intensity.  Ralph must have some information.  Hopefully, it was good.  Maybe he had an idea about his family’s whereabouts.  Justin said, “Sure.  What restaurant?”

Ralph gave him the location, and the phone conversation was over.  Tomorrow would be the 27th.  Justin knew Leopard had a deadline for him at the end of the week.  It wouldn’t take Leopard long to realize that he was not at home.  Justin packed some things in a small gym bag.  He waited until quite late to put them in his car.  He had to be careful in case he was being watched.  If he was found out, he would know it within a short time.  Justin went to bed and lay there, trying to fall asleep.  He knew his ordeal might soon be over, but he also knew he was gambling with his family, and the stakes were high.

 

 

Wednesday, October 27,1999, Wenatchee, Washington

 

            Justin arose early, and looking as though he was heading for an early class, headed instead for Seattle.  Using the cell phone Ralph had given him, he called in sick to school as he drove out of town.  He had a few hours drive ahead of him.  He and his wife had always liked the drive over the Cascade Mountains.  Though Wenatchee was beautiful, with its four distinct seasons, there was something about getting into the mountains with all the trees and fresh air.  He rolled down his window and let the fresh air wash away some of the strain of recent days.  This drive brought back pleasant memories of another time, a time before Leopard and his evil invasion into his live.  As Justin tried to block out the evil and focus on the good, the drive proved to be a somewhat relaxing and therapeutic one for Justin.  His family, though, still weighed heavily on his heart.

As Justin arrived on the outskirts of Seattle, he stopped at a payphone to check the phone book.  There was someone he wanted to look up.  As he paged through the alphabetical listings, he searched for an old family friend.  Here it was.  “Donald Freedman.”  He wrote down the number and returned to his car to use his cell phone.  An old man answered the phone on the other end.

“Pastor Freedman,” Justin said somewhat sheepishly, “this is Justin Brooks.”

The voice on the other end began to laugh heartily.  “Justin, its good to hear your voice.”

“Thank you, sir” said Justin.  “I was wondering if I could come by your home to see you.”

“Sure, I’d love to have you come by.”  The old pastor gave Justin an address and directions. Justin was soon on his way to see him.  He thought about this old man as he drove.  He felt somehow strangely drawn to see him today.  Justin had grown up in a Baptist church.  This man was the pastor and a good friend of Justin’s parents.  Justin knew that this pastor had settled in Seattle, and had thought about him many times on his various trips to Seattle.  He remembered that this man was always amazingly peaceful and calm, with a heart full of love for everyone.  Justin thought that if he could just get some peace, if he could just hold onto something good from his childhood, he might make it.  He saw this man as a link to a better time, and a more innocent existence, where no one had ever heard of militias, political problems, a lunatic named Leopard, or kidnapped families.

Justin pulled up in front of a small, well kept older home on a tree-lined street.  He walked up to the door.  He was 43, and he hadn’t seen this man since he was 22.  The old man had gray hair at that time.  The door swung open, and the old man stepped out to look at Justin.  He had a smile from ear to ear.  He seemed a few inches shorter than Justin remembered, and he was bent over a little bit, but he looked good.  He had less hair, with some gray strands covering a large bald spot.  This man must be almost 80 or so, thought Justin.  He doesn’t look it.  It must be clean living.

“Justin, it’s so good to see you.  My, my you’ve become such a tall and handsome young man.  Come on inside, I have a fire going.”

Justin smiled at the man.  “It is great to see you, I have thought about stopping many times.” The two men sat in two overstuffed chairs in the living room next to the fire.

The pastor said, “Let me get you some coffee.”  The old man jumped up and went to the kitchen.

Justin spoke up.  “Thank you, I’ll take it black.”

The old man was back quickly, and seated with Justin.  He looked intently at Justin.  “You know my wife Mary passed away 4 years ago.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”  Justin remembered how, for over 50 years, the couple had been inseparable.

The pastor smiled.  “We had good years, and I have no regrets.  I guess I am a little lonely nowadays, but look, the Lord has sent you here today.”  Justin remembered that this man talked about the Lord like this all the time.  Justin knew that if God had a faithful true believer anywhere on the face of the earth, this man was it.  “What have you been doing, Justin, in your life?”

Justin told the old pastor about his life after college, and of his family.  Justin was guarded as he spoke.  Ever since he saw the old man, he wanted to break down.  This old pastor made him feel safe and secure, and peaceful.

The old man turned his face toward Justin, and took on a very serious look.  “Justin, are you in trouble?”

Justin was amazed at his perception.  Justin’s eyes began to water.  Then, he lost it.  He put his face in his hands and bawled like a little child.  Now, it was out.  Justin was in deep trouble, and the old Pastor knew it.  Justin regained his composure, and the old man handed him a box of tissues.  “Pastor, my wife and children are being held prisoner, and I am involved with men who are evil.  They have threatened harm if I don’t do something, and I am not complying.”

The old pastor got quiet and soft-spoken.  “Is what they want you to do a crime?”

“Yes, Pastor, its treason against America.  These people are insane.  They want to stir up a full blown revolution.”

The Pastor thought for a moment and asked, “Have you taken it to the authorities?”

“No, not yet,” answered Justin.  “I do have a detective working on it, but bringing in a huge investigation will kill my family.”  Justin knew Leopard to be wicked and vindictive enough to make good his threats.  Leopard had the authorities at a great disadvantage where Justin’s wife and children were concerned.  They would need to launch an all out manhunt, and not very discreet, and Leopard had the underground network and the anonymity on his side.  He would have days or weeks to carry out his threat before the authorities could find them.  

            The old pastor stared into the fire.  “Who are these men?”

Justin told the pastor some of the details.  “It is a huge organization sir.  They are very evil, and I am sure the leader is a Satanist.  They have been hatching this plot for years, and they have millions of people at their disposal.  I believe they intend to attack within weeks, and our country is in for an all-out sweep of terrorism.  I believe this group is responsible for the bombings, and that is just a small sign of their overall plans.  The nation is not in a good position right now, there is not a great deal of unity in the leadership, or the people.”

“What is your plan, Justin?”

What a good question, Justin thought.  He didn’t have one.  He was hoping Ralph had one, and he was about to find out at 2:00 P.M. if that were the case.  “I don’t have one, but the detective does, I think.”

The old Pastor smiled.  “Justin, I am an old man.  I don’t know much about the crisis you describe, and I am old and frail.  But I do know One who knows all about it, and the outcome, and He has all the power.”

Justin looked at the old man.  He also remembered the day he had prayed.  “Sir, I haven’t thought much about God as an adult.  I guess I kind of dismissed it as childhood fantasies, and bedtime stories.  But since I met this guy who is the leader, and I have seen pure evil, it stands to reason that God must be real, and I have thought about Him quite a bit lately.”

The old Pastor smiled again.  “Justin, it is right that you came and told me, because this whole mess needs some prayer.  God uses and requires our prayers, and that is what gets us through with God.  I am going to begin to pray diligently about this problem of yours, and for your family, and for you.”

Justin sniffed, blew his nose in a tissue, and looked over at the old man.  “Thank you, I’m glad I came by.”

“Justin, why don’t we pray right now, and you get right with God.  Just re-commit your life to Him, and give Him this situation.”

Justin looked at the old man.  The old Pastor reached over and clenched Justin’s hand tightly.  Justin nodded his head, and said, “let’s do it.”

The old pastor led Justin in a prayer.  Justin embraced God’s love in a new way, and God became real and very comforting.  Justin prayed to Jesus.  The pastor led him in a thorough prayer of forgiveness and a restoration of intimacy with God.  They finished, and Justin sat there, not wanting to leave and go back to his current life and problems.

The pastor broke the silence.  “Justin, God will empower you now for whatever faces you.  I am going to give you a name and address, Justin.  This is a younger man of God, but he isn’t a Pastor.  In fact, he is a caretaker.  His name is Duffy French.  He and his wife, Liz, run and own a Christian retreat facility in the hills outside of Seattle.  This man is a good man, and he can give you a quiet place to stay, during this time.  I will call him and ask him to expect you.  He doesn’t get much company this time of year.”

After some more visiting, Justin told the old Pastor it was getting late, and he would have to go soon.  The old Pastor walked Justin to the door, and slapped him on the back.  “Justin, I want you to bring that wife and those children to see me when this is all over.”

Justin thought about those words.  He didn’t know if he’d even see his family again.  However, when this man said that, he saw a glimmer of hope.  He could see he and his family standing at the door knocking, and waiting for this old Pastor to answer.  He would bring his family here.  He could get them back.  He would prevail.  Maybe this old man had just taught him the most valuable lesson of his life.  He would believe.  He would have faith.  It felt quite a bit better than despair.  “Sir, my family and I will be back to see you very soon.”  Justin was amazed at the statement that came from his own mouth.  He gave his old family friend a big hug.  The Pastor laughed, and Justin went out the door.  He walked to his car, and kept thinking about the old man.  If he could be like that when he was old, he would be doing all right. 

           

Justin was the key player in a drama unfolding in America, and he had just let God not only have access to his own destiny, but to all of America’s also!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter   20 

 

Wednesday, October 27, 1999, Seattle, Washington

 

            Sheila was at the police station and on the phone with Jeff Graham.  “Jeff, where are we on the code?”

“I have some of the code broken.  This looks like serious stuff.  There are militia locations.  Three bombings are mentioned.  There are more dates in December coming up.”

Sheila spoke very softly.  “Jeff, it seems to be centered around Seattle here, or at least, this is where some key people are.  We have a few guys here that have so much information that they could probably help with those codes.  Can you come to Seattle?”

Jeff seemed surprised she would ask it.  “I have a big project I am working on.  I’m working on the Y2K issue for my company.  It won’t wait.”

Sheila was persistent.  “Jeff, my paper will fly you here.  We just need you for a day or two.”

Jeff was wearing down.  “Why can’t we just turn over everything to the FBI?”

Sheila looked around her to see if anyone was listening.  “We have a kidnapping, and we have a situation with the leader of the movement.  The guys I’ve been working with here, have decided to try to get the kidnapping subjects back, and then we will all go to the FBI.”

Jeff was torn.  He had thought of little else since he found the Internet information.  He did not want another person cracking the whole code, or scaring away the bad guys before it could be cracked.  What if he could get the information that he lacked from these people in Seattle?  Jeff was not very challenged by anything in the computer world anymore.  His intellect was beyond the current technology.  He needed to do this thing.  It was extremely tempting.  He also knew it was dangerous.  That is why he told Sheila yes, and he told his wife he had to fly to Seattle on a Y2K issue.  He told Sheila he’d be at the airport the next day.  Jeff loved his wife, but he couldn’t get her involved.  She would be safe in Denver.  What Jeff failed to realize that day, was that if he didn’t go to Seattle right away, in just several weeks, nobody would be safe anywhere in the country.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

            Justin arrived at the restaurant to meet Ralph at 2:00 P.M. sharp.  Ralph was early, and had a table already.  They shook hands, and Ralph began to fill Justin in on his activities.  “I figure Leopard will discover that you are missing from Wenatchee by Friday.  I want to act by tomorrow night, Thursday.  I have made some contacts in the movement.  They don’t know I am a cop, yet.  It will be dangerous, but I need every person, so I’m taking you.  I have a friend named Bud, he was in Viet Nam with me, and I trust him like a brother.  Besides, he can pick off a mosquito with a rifle at 500 yards.  He’s a good guy to have around.”  Justin nodded his approval.  Ralph looked Justin in the eye.  “Can you shoot a gun?”

“Yes, I shot guns when I was younger,” replied Justin.

“Good,” said Ralph.  “I think I can locate your family, but I may need a little help from some of my new redneck friends.”  Justin smiled.  Ralph went on.  “I have to get you a place to stay tonight.”

Justin sat up.  “I have one.  It is a small retreat facility in the hills.  I can get a small cabin there.”

“OK,” said Ralph, “that's good, I’d rather have you out of town.  You also need to know I’ve brought Sheila Halpren in on this, you know, the reporter?”

“Can we trust her?”  Justin was concerned. 

“Yes, I know we can.  We actually need her and her contacts.”  Ralph explained how she was close to the FBI task force on these terrorists, and then he explained that she had a computer expert coming in who had discovered some things on his own.  Ralph looked out the window for a moment, and then looked at Justin.  “How about some company at the retreat house?  I have these other people and we need to do some brainstorming together.”

Justin thought for a moment.  He thought about Pastor Freedman.  He knew it would be all right and told Ralph so.

Ralph said, “OK, let’s meet up there this evening.”

 

           

Wednesday, October 27, 1999, Gifford, Montana

 

            Leopard paced like the caged animal whose name he bore.  He was troubled.  He could feel something was amiss in his plan, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.  He had a heavy metal CD playing in the background.  He had to think.  “Frank,” he yelled, “get Barry Brown in Seattle on the line right away.”  Frank ran off to get his address book.  While Leopard waited, he walked to his desk, and took out a crucifix.  He turned it upside down, and chanted some unknown words.  He closed his eyes, and he waited for a moment.  The usual spine tingling chills shot through his whole body.  He knew he wasn’t alone.  He had the power. 

 

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