Rumors of Preppers Past

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And perhaps, future. Back in the Summer, I was recruited to write two original articles about guns and gun control for Freedom Prepper, those being the first original content pieces of any substance in a long time. I, during the … unpleasantness of August… may have forgotten to link those here. At FP, they were the most popular articles in about two years.

Shooting Numbers

More Gun Laws

All of this led to a conversation with Scott about the future. With FP, as in general, nothing is certain. But, there is a slight possibility of a return, particularly as to prepper-worthy news. If it happens, I’ll be linking here. And, if you’re into the preps – NOW IS THE TIME! If not, then, you know…

A “Real” Interview with Tom Ironsides – from TPC

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Here, in full; originally, at TPC.

TPC Exclusive! An Interview With Dr. Thomas H. Ironsides, Ph.D.

I’m more excited about the following article than I have been since my recounting of the hot little Mossad girls from the malls of yore. This being the National Affairs desk, I thought it a great idea to run some current and pressing issues by the man with the training and insight beyond belief. I caught up with Professor Ironsides – not the easiest endeavor – for a dinner conversation one evening at The Peddler Steak House in Boone, NC. Please enjoy; transcription follows:

Screenshot 2019-09-26 at 2.59.07 PM

Ladies and Gentlemen! Tom Ironsides! Had just stepped off camera, left…

[The back “western” nook, past the soup and salad bar].

Perrin: “Recording… Tom, again, it’s so great to see you. How’ve you been?”

Tom: “Again, it’s Doctor Ironsides if you please.”

Perrin: “So, Tom, great! MB and the whole TPC audience are really excited to hear all about your opinions on national and world affairs. Where should we start?”

Tom: “TPC? Who the hell is MB?”

Perrin: “Newton County? Georgia? The pizza with Ariana last Spring? It may be confusing coming into the real world for a column. Sorry.”

Tom: “Okay. Sure. It is a little odd. Colors seem slightly different. You look different, this side of the keyboard. Duller and wimpier. Anyway, what do you and your friends want to know?”

Perrin: “Thanks. You must be excited with The Substitute and all!”

Tom: “Oh. I knew it! Here comes the plug for that sad excuse of a novel. The one even I struggled to make interesting…”

Perrin: “Right. The one you hijacked. Was supposed to be a nonfictional expose on the…”

Tom: “Hijacked! I like that. Yeah, the one that otherwise would have never been completed. Another COMING SOON, meaning NEVER, book by Perrin Lovett. Ingrate.”

Perrin: “The one where you were created, you…”

[Young co-ed waitress approaches the table].

Waitress: “Hi, boys! Need more drinks?”

Perrin: “Thanks, darling. I’ll have another Newcastle.”

Tom: “Same here, sweetie. Thanks.”

[Waitress skips back to the bar].

Tom: “Damn. Create some more of those in the next book!”

Perrin: “I know, right?! So…”

Tom: “The book is pretty good. Once one gets by the awkwardness of the writing. Wandering plot. Lack of discipline. An important subject. The protagonist is great.”

Perrin: “Thanks. I guess. Tell me, which was worse, the wars, or the government schools?”

Tom: “I came to see them as one and the same. Or, at least as two parts of the same terrible degradation of our culture. Personally, and this may be hard to believe, but the schools hurt worse. Getting shot was just me. Anything I saw or did out there was just on me. The schools? So many affected. In the classrooms, it is manifestly obvious what damage is done to countless innocent lives.”

Perrin: “Do you see or think you…”

Tom: “All of it perpetrated by the same class of moronic evil-doers. It’s no surprise the way they prey on the children. Their contempt for mankind knows no limit.”

Perrin: “What I was asking. Exactly. Moving on… How are the new center and the classical school development progressing?”

Tom: “Baby steps. It’s refreshing to be back in a genuinely academic setting. You know – you really know – we’re right around the corner here, uh, in the … book world? The school is likely … it’s still on the drawing board, honestly. But, getting attention. We see tremendous opportunity, nationwide, through an online program for intelligent homeschoolers. The center is just Maddie, Ari, and myself, for the moment. That too is garnering interest all over. And, as of just recently, we have a real office. A website. We’re getting there. The college couldn’t be more helpful.”

Perrin: “Those not familiar with Part Three may not follow what we’re discussing.”

Tom: “Read faster! Hang on. Is it even out yet?”

Perrin: “Ha! Oh, speaking of crazy… Now, I’d like to take a brief moment and announce something else of extreme interest and tantalizing possibility. We here at TPC and the C.F. Floyd Column for National Affairs proudly welcome our newest sponsor and advertising partner, The Aurelius Foundation. Aurelius, headquartered in Washington, D.C., and Paris, has been providing strategic insight and actionable intelligence for over thirty years. If your bank, government, NGO, or other deep-pocketed concern has a need for global information geared towards decisively terminating and/or profiting from conflict, then please contact them. We’re so glad they’re along for the ride! As they put it: ‘There is knowledge, or there is failure.’ Thank you, dear new friends, and welcome!”
Screenshot 2019-09-29 at 8.26.52 PM

Tom: “What the holy hell was THAT!?! AURELIUS?! Really? Do you even know what…”

Perrin: “Relax, big guy. I’m sure they’re something else entirely in the real world. Besides, we haven’t even written that animosity just yet beyond the sketches. Just an ad.”

Tom: “Why is the logo exactly the same if??”

Perrin: “Because money.”

Tom: “Ah. God. Okay….”

Perrin: “Anyway. Oh, here she comes!”

[Hot waitress returns with two beers and a smile. She immediately bypasses Perrin, settling beside Tom, rubbing his head].

Waitress: “Here you are, fellas! Can I get you anything else?”

Tom: “That feels good! Thanks, doll. Just keep these coming? You in school at ASU?”

Waitress: “Yep. Junior, marketing major. I love these bottle labels! Different facts in every star, you know? I could advertise the fire out of these.”

Tom: “I’m an ad man myself! I bet we could advertise you right out of those pants.”

Waitress [whispering]: “Oooo. See me before you leave, big boy! Oops. Gotta run. More beers in like … fifteen, twenty?”

[Hottie kisses Tom and leaves].

Tom: “Don’t run. Walk slowly. And! Don’t ever work for The Aurelius Foundation!!!”

Perrin: “How do you?”

Tom: “I’m not bad. I’m just written this way. Geez. These lines…”

Perrin: “And, didn’t I give you like the hottest girlfriend on the planet?”

Tom: “You did. But, relax, big guy. I’m sure she’s something else entirely in the real world. Just a flirt.”

Perrin: “Okay. Now some issues… The Ukraine-impeachment. What’s your take on the whole thing? Where do you see it going?

Tom: “Ah, yes. President … Trump? Is it? I checked the news as soon as I figured I was in the real world, here in the parking lot. Exactly the same, just totally different. I hate to make these predictions, but I think it’s going nowhere. In fact, this may be the push that gets Trump reelected.”

Perrin: “How do you figure?”

Tom: “Well, legally… You’re the Constitutional expert, now… What’s that like? Is that like being a dinosaur veterinarian?

Perrin: “Ha, ha! Yeah. Just about. A jurisprudential archeologist!”

Tom: “Sad. It really is. Anyway, impeachment… From the start: the underlying Ukrainian deal, with energy, the aid money, all of it, is just steeped in corruption. Biden and family stepped into that big time. I see that as going nowhere, too. So, could Trump legally inquire into what very likely was a criminal matter? With, or to, a foreign leader? Yes, and yes. State and DOJ aside, he’s still the nation’s top diplomat and lawman. Parts of his job. Can they argue this was a campaign violation? Sure. It’s just a matter of relevance. It’s entirely possible – probably, in fact – that Trump did break some laws. With this and many other things. But, so did, does every member of Congress, all judges, and all other American adults.”

Perrin: “Three felonies a day…”

Tom: “Exactly! Plurimae leges, minus aequitate! One question I have is whether merely being a candidate shields one from criminal investigation. Does it? If so, just as Biden’s status would protect him from Trump, wouldn’t the same argument protect Trump from the Dems? And, there’s the fact that for any evidence they might really have – this time, that this looks like nothing more than a rehash of the same Russian collusion nonsense they ran with for three years. Foreign election meddling! Impeach Trump! Wow, original. Why didn’t they think of that before?”

Perrin: “A thought. Is the intel community or the CIA out to get Trump?”

Tom: “Certainly! He’s rocked their boat, so to speak. They, the CIA especially, they serve the deep state. I would know. Any attempt to revise, reduce, or reign in will be met with hostility. Power for power’s sake. If people even knew just five percent…”

Perrin: “Your call on the election?”

Tom: “Ordinary, if that’s the word, case – Trump beats Warren, reelected. Outside insane scenario, worst case for Trump in other words – impeachment, removal, pardon, and then Trump still beats Warren, reelected. Either way, any way, the pollsters, just like in 2016, will be off guard and out of touch.”

Perrin: “Does he deserve reelection?”

Tom: “By modern standards? Sure, why not? Sane, pre-1860 republic standards? No way in hell. All relative … and irrelevant.”

Perrin: “How long do you think we have?”

Tom: “Depends on a few factors. Probably ten to twenty years, give or take ten to fifty.”

Perrin: “Done by mid-century?”

Tom: “I’d say so. If this is Rome, then it’s about 450 AD, maybe 470.”

Perrin: “Willing to name some of the factors?”

Tom: “Yeah… The economy, of course. The demographic collapse. War – here and abroad. Just one could do it. I think we’re in for a combination.”

Perrin: “What’s the worst factor?”

Tom: “The change. The demographic shift and decline. But, you know, you kind of do that angle to death on a regular basis. Not much to add, and not that it makes any real difference. You, we have it pretty well covered in the book too. I’ll just say, at the end of the day, it was too many men like you and me accepting too much. And, doing so while we had … so many damned guns!”

Perrin: “Let’s see… I also covered economics lately. We’ll leave the war, here, alone…”

Tom: “We’d be so lucky it left us alone.”

Perrin: “Ha! Yeah. Okay, where’s the most likely strike abroad coming? And, by whom?”

Tom: “Iran. The Middle East. There, or in, near China. The US cannot win any war, now, without going nuclear – and that would have its own drawbacks and perplexities. The Joint… the models confirm what the commanders know: the US Empire cannot defeat either Russia or China in an outright conventional conflict. Definitely not both combined. They can’t beat nine guys with goats and an AK. Russia?! I don’t think they can win against us, either; they just cannot be beaten. Of course, they are not out looking for a war. Washington is. In spite of all the games and simulations, computer and material. I used to run those, for the Corps in the ‘90s and the Company up until about nine, ten years ago. Nothing has changed except the odds fade ever year.”

Perrin: “What do you say to the people – you know who I’m talking about – who say, ‘just nuke ‘em?’”

Tom: “I don’t talk to retards. And, since it’s not polite to tell even idiots to fuck off and die, then I don’t say anything.”

Perrin: “That almost says it all. Beyond the ‘duck and cover’ horror show, what’s perplexing about a, uh, a non-conventional war? From the US side?”

Tom: “Mutually assured destruction. And today, the US may not even be able to guarantee its end of the mutual part. It’s not just who else has nukes, it’s who else has deterrent systems. More importantly, it’s also who can sustain the warheads. One of the biggest hidden problems in the US is the lack of tritium production. All those triggers have to be refreshed every seven to ten years. Otherwise, the yield is largely outside control or predictability. For us, the good people, I think that’s actually a good thing. It will keep even the craziest neocon nuts from getting too far ahead of reality.”

Perrin: “You think there’s a decent chance of catching Russia through one of these small to medium country meddlings?”

Tom: “Yes. They drew a hard line both in Syria and in Venezuela. We backed off. One day, that might not go so well for either party. Right now, it looks like Iran is the catalyst. Could change tomorrow. Something about avoiding the entanglements.”

Perrin: “Well, that covers the big tickets. I have a note from a reader, lemme see… Anything out at Area 51?”

Tom: “Lord… No, nothing from outer space, nothing alien. That’s more of a dumping ground for failed or obsolete experiments. Storage. Now, our Omega group had a…”

Perrin: “WOAH!!! No, no, no! We don’t use the ‘O-word’ yet. Not enough written.”

Tom: “Oh, yeah. Sorry, sorry…”

Perrin: “And, I understand you have a little reunion planned soon up in DC.”

Tom: “It’s going to be great. Can’t wait to see some of the…”

Perrin: “I’m confident you’ll have an interesting time.”

Tom: “Thanks. The boys and… Wait. What was the emphasis on ‘confident’ there??”

Perrin: “Wow. Word counts fly when you’re having fun. And, we still have the parking lot scene. Shall we? You pay…”

Tom: “Parking lot?”

[Outside the front door].

Perrin: “Yeah. I was thinking maybe $19.99 per physical copy.”

Tom: “I’d charge $25 or $30. It’s a big book and, the more I think about it, damned good. Let’s…”

Co-ed: “Hey! Wait up! My pants, remember?”

[Perrin intercepts the hottie, mid-flight].

Perrin: “Oh, wow. No. He forgot. Forgot all about his other date!”

Tom: “What other date?!”

Carmyn: “Darling!”

Tom: “Carmyn!? How are you here? In this world?”

Carmyn: “I don’t know. But however it happened, I owe it all to sweet Perrin. Good evening, My Lord.”

Perrin: “Evening, Adrestia. Yes, I still have some power here.”

Co-ed: “Are you a wizard?”

Perrin: “…Sure! That’ll do. Now, I think we were on our way to my hotel room … uh, my penthouse luxury suite. You were going to show me those gymnastics moves, right?”

Co-ed: “Oh, baby, you have no idea!”

Perrin: “Yes. I do.”

[Perrin and the (suddenly) 9.9+ super-hottie instantly teleport away, leaving behind a joyful Carmyn and a bewildered Tom].

Carmyn: “Let’s go shopping, darling! For hours!” [Begins dragging Tom…].

Tom: “Oh, no…”

Carmyn: “Have you seen how pretty Hudson Leick is in the real world?!”

Tom: “Who?”

**As evidence of the veracity of the foregoing, I offer this photograph:

Screenshot 2019-09-26 at 3.01.30 PM

MB must appropriate funds for a professional photographer…

 

A Just Question

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With a predictable answer. PCR wants to know where the indictments are against the leaders of the ongoing coup.

The Republicans are simply too stupidly patriotic to indict a president, so they tell Trump, just let bygones be bygones. Don’t establish the precedent of bringing a former president and his top officials to indictments that will result in conviction and imprisonment. This, the Republicans believe, will destroy the people’s belief in their government, and the US will become just another “banana republic or African dictatorship.” To save America, Trump is being told, you have to turn your eyes away from the sedition of the Democrats and the Deep State.

In other words, he is being advised: “Let them get you.” So much for Trump’s advisors. So much for Trump appointing such stupid advisors.

This misplaced and idiotic superpatriotism immobilizes the stupid party and leaves the initiative with the determined party, a party that ignores all facts and whose media shills drown out any facts that manage to get expressed.

Trump is guilty of the undefined and unsubstantiated, and that is enough for the American media. Is it enough for the American people?

The coming collapse and instability of “the world’s only superpower” is going to be stunning.

It’s obvious they’re with the “sealed military indictments” – they don’t exist. But, “stunning” is the right word – one of them. 2033 might be an overly optimistic date.

In the Legs. Sure.

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Carlos Slim’s Blog is allegedly telling another tall tale, though, strangely, this one leaves out “Russia,” “Ukraine,” and Brett Kavanaugh assaulting someone who doesn’t remember the act.

President Trump suggested having migrants shot in their legs during a March meeting with White House advisers in the Oval Office, The New York Times reported Tuesday.

The Times’ report is based on interviews with more than a dozen White House administration officials involved in the events the week of the meeting. The article is adapted from a forthcoming book by reporters Mike Shear and Julie Hirschfield Davis, titled “Border Wars: Inside Trump’s Assault on Immigration.” It will be published Oct. 8.

The aides told the Times Trump suggested to advisors during the Oval Office meeting that they should shoot migrants in the legs to slow them down.

The suggestion came after Trump had publicly suggested shooting migrants if they threw rocks, the Times reports. Trump had made the suggestion about shooting migrants that threw rocks during a speech in November.

Officials who spoke to the Times also recall Trump often suggesting fortifying a border wall with a water-filled trench, stocked with snakes or alligators.

Trump also “wanted the wall electrified, with spikes on top that could pierce human flesh,” the Times reports.

Honestly, the story starts to sound like some of the unfounded (un-evidenced and forgotten) accusations at Nuremberg. Trump says use nuclear-powered death ray! Electric skull crushers! Wants “refugees” beamed into the sun! 

The shooting in the legs things sounds doable, however. B-b-but! Conservatives! BUT! Only LEGALLY! Only shoot people actually trying to invade the US. No-one else. As I’ve mentioned before – here and to the WH – an A-10 would accomplish this nicely (though perhaps not neatly).

The Bright Shiny Service Economy

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The recession is becoming palpable, moving out of bond curve graphs and into the factories.

A gauge of U.S. manufacturing showed the lowest reading in more than 10 years in September as exports dived amid the escalated trade war.

The U.S. manufacturing Purchasing Managers’ Index from the Institute for Supply Management came in at 47.8% in September, the lowest since June 2009, marking the second consecutive month of contraction. Any figure below 50% signals a contraction.

The new export orders index was only 41%, the lowest level since March 2009, down from the August reading of 43.3%, ISM data showed.

“We have now tariffed our way into a manufacturing recession in the U.S. and globally,” said Peter Boockvar, chief investment officer at Bleakley Advisory Group.

The Bleak Advisor is likely a liar or an idiot. Other lies are told. Amazingly, about the only authority figure hitting on a little truth is the Trump. Thank God for the impeachment hoax! Otherwise, with a severe downturn coming, he might not be re-electable. And anyway, why does this matter??? I recall, some 30 years ago during my third-rate government high school “education,” someone telling us that in the happy future of tomorrow all employment would be in the easy, computerized service sector. Nothing produced, a shame since everyone would have tons of spending money from their high-tech fantasy jobs.

If we had an Index of Official Lies, the baseline would be a hockey stick curve in perpetuity.

Gigi Hadid for Congress

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A 100-pound (HOT!) runway model demonstrates more fortitude than every member of the GOP not named Donald Trump.

A crasher stormed the runway at Chanel’s spring 2020 presentation Tuesday morning at the Grand Palais.

Dressed in a black and white tweed outfit topped with a black hat, the spectator climbed onto the set, which was built to look like Paris rooftops, as models took their finale walk.

Show-goers and security were stunned as the crasher made her way to the end of the runway and was confronted by supermodel Gigi Hadid.

Hadid, 24, who was posing as part of the show’s finale in front of the photo pit, appeared to speak to the crasher sternly and then, after placing a hand on her shoulder, escorted her off the runway.

Good conservatives would still be standing there, smoothing their bow ties and talking about a compromise with the crasher.

The Extreme Price of Feminism

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PCR, as always, is right on it.

Every seam of the foundation of Western civilization has been opened, and the building is collapsing. The US government and local police operate on the principle that “might makes right.” A majority of the younger generations cannot tell facts from opinion. Integrity is understood as something that gets in the way of your success. Success is measured in money. Nothing can be trusted. Democracy is impotent, because explanations are controlled in behalf of agendas. Free speech, guaranteed by the founding document of the country, isoffensive” and on its way out. The only scholarship and research that universities permit and institutions fund is that which supports official explanations and the ruling elite’s agendas. Evidence no longer counts as Russiagate and the latest accusation against Trump prove. Even in criminal indictments, conviction rests on allegations alone in 97% of felony cases.

Over the course of my life I have watched America be destroyed. Those born into a destroyed country don’t know that it has been destroyed. As the destruction progresses, each generation born into it simply sees what they are born into as normal. The younger the generation, the less it knows of its country’s destruction. As they are educated to understand their history as one built on slavery, they think that all that has been lost is slavery. Given this enculturation of the young, how can Humpty-Dumpty be put back together again?

He may have just a few years on me, but I can easily identify the decline I’ve seen in my lifetime. And, he’s right about the younger generations thinking this is all normal as it’s all they’ve ever known. I hope he’s wrong that the damage done is permanent.

But … happy October! Great stuff coming this month!

“The Substitute” – A Preview from Ch. 12

Again, a part of Chapter 12… More coming soon, then … the book!

perrinlovett's avatarPERRIN LOVETT

**Here, the reader finds Tom, fresh from another educational experiment, indulging a flashback while headed to New England for Thanksgiving. Ever wonder what Tom did on the morning of 9/11/2001? Read on.**

Chapter Twelve

A Date and a Plot

Driving away from Hammond that Tuesday afternoon, Tom shook his head. A popcorn riot! Kids will be kids. They do unruly things. But, with all that had happened at Eisenhower, every time he’d been there, he decided that was one school he would take off his list. He did that as soon as he was home – the first alteration he’d made to his availability in A.S.S.’s system. It wouldn’t be the last. Later, he ate at Lyon’s and tried a new holiday porter as recommended by two prettier members of the staff. He ended up drinking several of them. Once home again, he thought about testing out his new fire…

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The Fading Empire Fades

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As it has for some time. A great article on the subject, the first of two.

Insurgents have repeatedly battled US forces to a standoff or worse. Two major powers have weapons that can stymie or destroy significant parts of America’s conventional offensive capabilities, that can be used offensively with devastating effect, and for which the US has no defensive countermeasures.

This set of facts is plainly incompatible with the control the US establishment believes it can and should exercise around the world. Russia and China appear to have no such hegemonic aspirations, concentrating their efforts in their own backyards and letting the US waste its blood and treasure on imperialistic adventures. The US’s unipolar moment began fading in 1949 when the Soviet Union detonated its own atomic bomb, but repeated encounters with reality have done little to shake the illusion of control. Economic, financial, and political developments at home render the illusion delusional.

This week’s TPC column will cover some of these issues, from the perspective of my special interview guest. He says that the US shouldn’t be so keen even on relying on that nuclear threat – which it so happens is also fading. Coming soon!

“The Substitute” – A Preview from Ch. 12

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**Here, the reader finds Tom, fresh from another educational experiment, indulging a flashback while headed to New England for Thanksgiving. Ever wonder what Tom did on the morning of 9/11/2001? Read on.**

 

Chapter Twelve

A Date and a Plot

Driving away from Hammond that Tuesday afternoon, Tom shook his head. A popcorn riot! Kids will be kids. They do unruly things. But, with all that had happened at Eisenhower, every time he’d been there, he decided that was one school he would take off his list. He did that as soon as he was home – the first alteration he’d made to his availability in A.S.S.’s system. It wouldn’t be the last. Later, he ate at Lyon’s and tried a new holiday porter as recommended by two prettier members of the staff. He ended up drinking several of them. Once home again, he thought about testing out his new fire pit but decided against it due to his travel schedule the next day. But, he did have one last round before bed.

     The following morning, while he sipped coffee and almost regretted the last round, he noticed something out the window. The dreary November clouds parted just at the right moment, opening a vast swath of earth and water below the American Airlines flight as it cruised North towards New England. He looked down and beheld lower Manhattan, a good stretch of the whole Island, and parts of the surrounding Boroughs. As he stared at One Freedom Tower, his mind returned to another day, years before.

McLean, Virginia, September 11, 2001, 8:35 AM…

     ‘I hope there’s a cute turtle in here!’ Vicky exclaimed while clutching her little box of animal crackers to her chest. She loved both the snack and the slower armored reptile. And, she really loved her Daddy. ‘Will YOU AND mommy come get me before you get Traaaay?? I wanna be first!’

     Still down on one knee, Tom tried to look concerned. ‘We’re supposed to pick up both of you? I thought we just picked one and the other spent the night…’ The turtle-loving first grader wasn’t buying it this morning, instead giving Tom a squinty-eyed pouty face. ‘Alright! We’ll BOTH come get one of you and then the other. Maybe we can eat out tonight. Somewhere fun. Speaking of … looks like you need to get back in there, bunny.’

     Dangling the turtles and other animals by the little string handle, she gave him a big parting hug. ‘Love you, Dabby!’

     ‘Ruv you too, baby doll.’

     Tom rose and watched her skip away to a table where gathered some other little girls proudly wearing the uniforms of the Academy of Saint Mary. He bid Ms. Flaxon a good morning and made his way to the front doors, waving and nodding to a few nuns on the way out. Down the steps and across the front lawn, he almost bounded towards the parking lot. He’d just returned the night before from another overseas junket that lasted (as usual) a little longer than planned. Tonight would be fun family time; today was a chance to spend precious time with his bride. Or, it would have been.

     About the time he reached his aging, ailing Rover Defender, his belt and side began to vibrate as if his work pager vehemently objected to his plans. He stopped mid-entry, with one foot still on the ground and checked. Despite his line of work, there was no expecting what he saw:

!!! CD BLK ATTACK WAR !!!

!!! HUNTRESS SCRAM F15 NYC !!!

!!! GIANTKILLER RELAY EADS !!!

!!! NCS RPT LANGLEY !!!

     As he raced towards CIA Headquarters, he tried a talk radio station. Some newsman was laughing about the time a World War Two-era bomber accidentally flew into the Empire State Building. This wasn’t an accident! You guys will know soon. Just as he switched off the dial, his phone started ringing. He let it ring. He had traffic laws to break.

     Ten minutes later he ran into a situation room, already crowded with officers, analysts, assistant directors, and several men in military uniforms, mostly Army. They were whispering if they even talked. All eyes were on the largest of screens in that room which, from the looks of it, could have launched the Space Shuttle. He joined them in time to see the second plane strike. Reports buzzed about the Pentagon. The FAA ceded aerial control to NORAD. Another screen, live from a satellite, computer-highlighted fighters as they assumed Combat Air Patrol over America’s East Coast. The President was moving. The Capitol was evacuating. South Tower collapsed. North Tower followed. A shocked world watched equally stunned media figures stumble through the reports.

     His shock gave way to anger. He recalled, vividly, his meeting, little more than a month earlier, at the White House – his first with President Bush. He’d read aloud the footnotes to his April report on Serbia. He was one of the bold who warned of an imminent attack on the Nation. He had stared in disbelief as, first one and then another, idiot neocon rebuffed his advice. Who were these people? Bin Laden was not bluffing to cover for Saddam. There was no need to bomb Iraq again. Shit, the targets are HERE now! He’d lost it on two of the loudest chickenhawks. And, he almost lost his job as a result. He would have but for a certain respect from the Deputy Director and that, for his faults, Bush seemed to know the value of at least one dissenter. They let him stick around but they didn’t take his advice. Now, this!

     Many voices spoke to or at him simultaneously. The Director had found him and was instructing him to ready a direct action team for deployment, probably to Afghanistan, and probably that night. 

     Does that mean, “you were right?” ‘Roger that. I need to get the…’

     ‘They’re saying Tower Seven is going to fall too!’ The Director’s assistant of something had found her boss, and Tom, and broke in. She seemed terrified.

     Tom looked at both of them with a grim, set face. ‘Who are they? And, how do they know?’

     That afternoon, Elizabeth picked up the kids by herself. Tom went, not to the Middle East (not yet) but to Tampa so he could escort a band of Saudis out of the country. When no-one else could fly. Almost no-one. His rival teams were busy shuttling Israelis and others back to their homes, some of them being hastily released from custody for the trip. The rest is muddled, forgotten, and covered-up history.

Derry, New Hampshire, Thanksgiving Eve, Late…

     Tom, Larry, Darla, Trey, and Romona sat around Larry’s kitchen table, enjoying drinks and conversation. Everyone had been anxious to probe into Tom’s progress with the schools. His answers, while entertaining, didn’t necessarily inspire confidence – at least not in his own self-critical mind.

     Trey kept the process in motion. ‘Sounds like you’re learning a lot, Dad. Do you think you like teaching at that, at those levels?’

     Tom had been thinking the same thing lately. He was learning, though not everything he learned made him happy. Things were bad, terminally-bad even, but he still wanted to help. The question was, did anyone else want help? He had a strange feeling that, just as his predictions and assessments were ignored before 9/11, so now they would be dismissed by the academy. He answered, ‘The Curse of Cassandra.’

     ‘The curse of who, now?’ Romona inquired.

The Substitute is coming…

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