Jack Chamberlain stands where his famous ancestor once stood in Gettysburg, PA. The 150th Anniversary is underway of the momentous series of battles culminating during the spectacle that was known as Picket’s Charge. But during the famed march across the hallowed fields, explosions erupt, killing hundreds. Detectives Jack Chamberlain and Claire Sanchez, are in pursuit of the suspects in this terrible violent act against all Americans. They will discover that this is only the beginning of a string of attacks, bent on changing America for all time. These attacks continue to escalate in order to turn the people away from their government and bring it to its knees. Jack Chamberlain, fresh off the case of his life in Boston, must come to grips with the unthinkable reality that those that are tearing the fabric of the country apart, are not from some third world country, but are homegrown.


3. Chapter 3

   A young blonde woman dressed in army fatigues answered the desk phone, nodded to the General, and handed the phone to him.
   The General turned from the newscast and took the phone, “Yes.”
   “General, the op was successful,” spoke a female voice. “We are in route to the safe house.”
   “There will be a massive search for you soon, so be careful, and do not trust that the house will be safe for long. Gather your gear and move quickly as planned.”
   “Yes, General,” she ended.
   He hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the footage playing before him on the screen. The Theater shooting was the topic being discussed and debated on all the local and national news stations. They had identified the assailant as a 30-year-old male, James Whitley of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He had recently been released from the Cherokee Mental Health Institute of Cherokee, Iowa, diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder. He was on a strict medication regiment with mandatory weekly visits to the Institute but had missed his last two visits.
   He looked over at the woman who had handed the phone to him. She was a striking young woman, blonde, blue eyed, and a lithe frame that masked her physical strength. Her best feature however was the sharpness of her mind, a keen sense of what makes others tick as she would say. The operations now, and in the future, would not have been possible without her recruitment skills. Her ability to find those who would sympathize and act upon the convictions of the small, but growing band of patriots, was uncanny. Of all the recruits, only one had to be eliminated for lack of enthusiasm.  “Captain Paine, you did well with our friend James.”  
   “Thank you, sir,” she said. “I have heard from Lieutenant Johnson and they are already in New York. I expect the team to arrive tomorrow.”
   “Good, we will need to move them out again soon, Stephanie.” He sat back and tuned out the newscasters voice as his thoughts drifted. He was saddened that it had come to this, but he knew it was inevitable. The citizenry, of the greatest country yet conceived, had grown soft and weak. They were like sheep, shepherded by wolves, following failed communistic laws and policies into stagnation. Weak faceless leaders with twisted senses of right and wrong, good and evil, denouncing God while embracing godless rule.
   There was a time, not long ago, when he had worked within the establishment, fighting for the country which had already abandoned him. He had not known then the extent to which politicians, who purported to care about those who protected the countries freedoms, would betray him. He had not even admitted to himself that such a betrayal was possible in his naivety. No longer was he so blind to the passions of dispassionate men.
   He looked around his command center. It was small compared to what he had grown accustomed to, but it fit the needs of his group. One wall was equipped with a group of small LED television screens that surrounded a large center screen. By pressing a numbered button on a remote, he could place the image from any of the smaller screens that might have caught his eye, to the center screen.
   A group of three men and two women were in the room with him performing various tasks. A large former Marine technical surveillance officer sat to his right, scanning several high definition monitors. The man had designed the entire surveillance system surrounding the compound. A female, at a station in front of him, was a former Navy Electronics Technicians and Communications officer and was listening to local law enforcement and civilian radio communications. Captain Paine stood behind him, close enough so he could feel the heat off her body, while to the left, on a small platform that lead to the door to the main offices, stood his two top officers watching the events unfold. His eyes looked above them to the words written in gold above the door. ‘What country can preserve its liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms’ Thomas Jefferson 1787
   It was time for those of strength and patriotism to awake and retake America, the time for warning long passed. Thomas Jefferson had believed in revolution, had participated in revolution and called for all men to be aware of the power of the government and to not let it go beyond its design. America had gone beyond the design of its founders.  The once great Republic was nothing more than a modern day Sodom, its people asleep and wicked. The politicians passed laws they did not intend to follow. These laws sole purpose was to curtail American freedoms that so much blood had been spilled to earn and spilled to preserve.
   America today would have to be pushed to action. The people far too complacent to act on their own, they needed to be shocked awake. The days and nights would now be long and sleepless in America’s heartland, he thought as a breaking news scrawl etched its way across the screen “Gettysburg under Attack”.

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