New World Order: California Invasion (Vol. 2) Read online

  “Wolfgang, that is enough for a while, but the next time, bring the electric branding iron, so when you get serious about playing with him, you can cauterize his injuries. When you remove his penis and testicles, you will need the bleeding to stop quickly, or he will stop playing with us. The branding iron seals his wounds quickly.”

  “What now, sir?” Wolfgang asked.

  “Leave for now and let Mister Stovall think about his current situation. Return in, oh, say, in an hour. Then you can entertain us for a long time this evening. I do hope Jesse lasts longer than the last three we tortured to death. They died much too quickly.” The Boss said.

  As soon as Wolfgang left The Boss moved to the sofa, sat beside Beth, and said, “See if you can make me smile.”

  Sue Stovall was nothing like her husband, and folks often wondered how they'd gotten together, with the marriage surprising everyone. She was petite, her brown hair worn long, green eyes and full lips that appeared to be pouting all the time. She was raised in the country on a farm, was a conservative, and was as comfortable in the woods as at home. Unlike Jesse, she carried a concealed Ruger, a huge .45 auto, and she was a good shot with it. While most women wanted a smaller and lighter gun so it kicked less, she wanted a gun that would be able to knock a big man on his ass with just one bullet. She carried it in the small of her back and wore a huge extra large tee with jeans.

  Walking up the steps to her home she noticed she had visitors, and knew without opening the door. Each time she left the house, she placed a strip of invisible tape at the top. It was the same transparent tape she wrapped Christmas presents with and you could see it, if you paid attention. It ran from the door frame to the door —almost two inches long. Enter and the tape would hang loose. Today, for the first time, it was hanging freely and moving with the wind.

  She pulled her pistol, backed away from the door and moving to her car, started it and drove a few blocks to where her sister lived. Once there, she knocked on the door and then entered.

  Marsha asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “Someone is in my home, or has been. I wondered if Mark is here and if he'd help me check the inside. I don't really want to go inside alone.” She didn't want to ask for help, but Jesse worked for the President and it could be more than one person inside.

  “What about the kids?”

  “They're in school.”

  “Mark! Come here honey, Sue needs some help.” Marsha called out, then looked at Sue, and added, “Lawdy, that'd scare me to know someone is in my house.”

  “It could be anyone, and my only concern is how many of them there are.”

  Mark entered the room and asked, “Yep?”

  Sue explained why she was there and then waited. Mark was a prior military man and all she knew about his career was he'd been a combat troop in a number of different countries.

  “Hummm, we have no idea how many are in there, and I don't see any way to know until we enter. Let me grab a couple of shotguns from my gun cabinet and we'll check your place out.”

  “I have my .45.”

  “That bullet would go further than we want if you pulled the trigger. I'm sure in combat it would be fine, but we don't want a bullet that will go through a half dozen houses once the trigger is pulled. We don't want to hurt or kill an innocent person maybe four or five houses down. Shotguns and small caliber pistols are the best for house clearing.”

  “How do you still have guns if the California police claim they've collected all of them?” Sue asked.

  “I just didn't turn them in; my dad bought them secondhand years back, when registration wasn't required. He got them around 1960 or so. How do you have a pistol?”

  “I am an exception to the gun law, because Jesse works for the President. Government employees, except military, active duty and retirees are allowed guns for self protection.”

  “Double standard.” He walked from the room and returned with two pump shotguns and two boxes of 12 gauge shells. “Watch where you point this thing, but I guarantee if you point a shotgun at someone and pull the trigger, they will go down.”

  Sue knew about shotguns, and used to hunt rabbits and squirrels with her father as a little girl. She picked the nearest shotgun up, opened the box of shells, and loaded her weapon.

  Placing the remaining shells in her coat pocket, she said, “Let's move, because I don't like the idea of a stranger in my home.”

  “Yep, and since Jesse works for the President, it could be anyone.”

  “Especially this President, because he's so corrupt. The civil war, the split of our nation, and all the rest scares me. What kind of country will we hand to our kids?” she asked as they walked to Mark's old pickup truck.

  “Get in, and keep the shotgun with you in the cab.”

  “I really hope they're gone and the house is clean of intruders.”

  “It may be if it's a robbery, but what if a man is there to kidnap or rape you? Have you given that any thought? This President has pissed off a lot of people and they're not all Americans.” He started the truck and they moved for Sue's house. It never dawned on her to try to reach Jesse, because he would be useless in a situation like this. He was due home later, so she'd tell him what happened then.

  They pulled into the driveway just enough to get the rear of his truck out of the road, and all looked normal. However, after getting out of the truck and moving to the door, he could see the transparent tape flapping in the wind. He met her eyes, as if asking, “Are you ready?”

  She nodded and watched him slip the safety off his shotgun, so she did the same. She said a fast prayer and watched his hand move for the door knob. Mark rotated the knob slowly and discovered the door locked. It would have been locked if all was normal. She handed him a key and he quietly rotated the latch on the deadbolt after unlocking the knob lock, hoping it would not “snap” open. It unlocked quietly. Anyone watching the door would have seen the movements of the knob or the deadbolt, but it was unlikely anyone would sit for hours watching a door.

  When Mark entered the house he instantly saw two men wearing cheap black suits on the sofa, and one was drinking from a metal flask. Both went for their guns and when the one on the left cleared his holster, that told the prior military man they were up to no good. He pointed his shotgun at them, squeezed the trigger, and then quickly pumped in a fresh shell.

  The shot from the gun struck both men, and the man on the left screamed as the double ought buck shot struck his chest and face. Sue watched, fascinated, as the shot tore the two men into hamburger. The man on the right fell back, unmoving, while the other continued to scream as blood poured from his face and chest.

  A man ran into the room, a pistol in his left hand, and Sue fired because she'd been watching Mark's back as he was kicking guns away from the downed men. Her pellets struck the man in the head, and most of his face disappeared as well as his skull. He screamed, reached for his head and then fell, where he quivered and jerked as his whole nervous system shut down. She moved to him, kicked the pistol from his hand, and then along with Mark, began to check each of the other rooms.

  It was the last room, a child's bedroom, where two more men were discovered. When Mark opened the door, four shots sounded and each struck the wall beside him. With the door swinging open, Mark fired once and then rolled inside the small room. Sue fired and the two men returned fire, striking the wall behind her.

  From the shots, Mark knew the two men were behind the bed. He was at floor level, so he moved the barrel of his shotgun toward the bed and squeezed the trigger. Most of his shot went under the bed frame, striking the two men on the other side.

  One man gave a hideous scream and fell, but the other fired two shots at Mark. One bullet hit the dresser behind him and continued moving, while the second pinged off into space after hitting a piece of metal. Mark guessed their pistols were .38 revolvers because that was what the other men were carrying. The intruder's head popped up looking for a target, and Sue's shotgun boomed. I
nstantly he fell in an unnatural way without a sound. She saw blood was floating above the man like a fine crimson mist.

  “You hit him right in the neck. Smell the coppery scent? That's blood.” Mark said, and slowly stood. He moved to the two men, kicked their weapons away and said, “Call the police and do the job now. Both of these fools are dead, but I think one in the living room is still breathing.”

  Many long minutes later, almost an hour, a single squad car arrived and a lone cop made his way to the door, which was open in expectation of visitors.

  Sue pulled her right to carry permit, stamped by the White House, and then her drivers license, which she handed to the officer. As he looked them over, she explained she'd come home to suspect someone in her house. She had gone to get Mark, because she didn't want to enter her house on her own. She'd explained how the old shotguns were hers, and they'd been locked up in a shed out back for years.

  Once they entered, they found the two men on her sofa armed and they'd tried to kill her, so they'd fought back. She continued with her story.

  The cop barely listened as he ran a background check on both but found nothing except they were associated with the White House, so he knew better than to arrest her or even take her in for questioning.

  He handed her identification and gun permit back and said, “Looks like self defense to me. These boys had to be pretty stupid to brace shotguns with a .38 pistol.”

  Mark asked, “Are we free to go?”

  “Yes, sir, you're free. An ambulance will be here in a few minutes to remove the bodies. I'd hoped the last man would live long enough for us to question him, but he didn't.”

  It was then Sue's cell phone rang, “Hello?”

  “Sue, this is Debby from the President's staff, and we have reason to believe Jesse was taken by an unknown group early this morning. The President would like you to come to the White House for a classified briefing.”

  Silence.

  “Sue, did you hear me?”

  “Uh, yes, . . . I . . . heard you. I . . . I'm just shocked is all. I'll be there as soon as possible, because we just killed five men in my home. The police are here, so tell him what you just told me.”

  She handed the phone to the cop and said, “It's the White House, a woman named Debbie from the President's personal staff.”

  Minutes later, the phone handed back, the overworked cop said, “They think this was a kidnapping attempt by an unknown group. Once the bodies are removed, I'm to take you to the White House in my patrol car.”

  Turning to Mark, her eyes full of tears she said, “Jesse was kidnapped early this morning and I think they wanted me next. I hope they don't hurt him, because he's as harmless as a fly. Why would they take Jesse?”

  “I have no idea, but if you two want to leave now, I can oversee the removal of the dead men. Maybe their fingerprints will show something.”

  “I have their prints and photos of their faces, well, of those who still had a face. I'm telling you, those shotguns tear a body up!”

  “Hush,” Mark said, “someone is nearing the door.”

  Chapter 2

  The Boss had never witnessed such a weak man in his whole life until he watched Jesse tortured to death. He screamed and cried like a small child no matter what was done to him by Wolfgang. Both The Boss and Beth were fascinated when the Enforcer used a pair of tin snips to remove Jesse's penis and balls, and then held them high in the air as the man on the table screamed and spurted blood. The big man pulled the electric branding iron and quickly cauterized the place where the damage had been done. He then tossed the man's privates in a trashcan. He snipped off both of Jesse's nipples and watched blood run freely down the dying man's chest.

  Then, The Boss said, “End this, Wolfgang; as soon as you break his arms and legs, I want you to cut his throat.”

  Smiling, the Enforcer said, “Yes, sir.”

  He picked up a heavy steel bar and, grasping it in both hands, he brought it up and over his head. Then he struck Jesse with all his strength and the man screamed again. In a matter of just a few minutes, all of his limbs were broken. The Enforcer then slowly opened the man, from crotch to breast and looking inside, he could still see his heart beating. The big man grabbed Jesse by the hair and raised his head. With a fast flash of his knife blade, the throat was cut and blood began spurting into the air.

  Laughing, The Enforcer reached into Jesse's chest, cut his heart out, and when removed, the organ was still beating. Seconds later the beating ceased.

  “Oh, that is new, and so good, Wolfgang. You may go now, and leave us alone until morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Then he asked the camera men, “Did you get all of that?”

  “Oh, yes, and it will be worked this evening so the Americans get an enhanced copy of the film. I will make sure the NWO logo images are at the start and ending of the film.”

  “I want to see the completed video at 0600 in the morning; now leave, so I may rest.” The Boss said, as he thought of Beth waiting for him just across the room on the big overstuffed sofa.

  Three days later, political prisoners from the county jail picking up trash in a park near the White House, discovered Jesse's body. The man who saw him first was unsure what he was looking at, but when neared, big green blow flies were buzzing in the air and walking in and out of holes in the body. When he watched one fly walk from inside Jesse's mangled nose, he turned his head and vomited. He then screamed for help, knowing the man on the ground was well beyond assistance. Soon a prison guard neared, looked the body over and using his cell phone called the police.

  This afternoon in the White House, the President's Press Secretary, James Norman, entered the oval office and said, “Sir, bad news. The body of your number one adviser, Jesse Stovall, was discovered this morning in a park near here. He'd been tortured for hours, mutilated, and disemboweled before death. Doctors say his death was slow, and over about a twelve hour period. Along with the body, we found a video of his execution, in a protective plastic container.”

  “Play it.”

  “Sir, I don't think you really want to see this.”

  “I said play it, damn you! I know who killed the man, the NWO, and they did it to teach me a lesson because Jesse and you, both of you sonsofbitches, suggested I ignore them. Now, now that they've started killing Americans because of my decision I am sure I made a serious mistake. I want you to put the DVD in the player and let me watch this. I owe it to Jesse to see the whole thing.”

  “Sir, it's extremely graphic and bloody.”

  “Norman, either play the video or find another job. Here I am worried about an invasion from the CSA, of being assassinated, killed in an airstrike, or having the NWO nuke my ass, and you're worried about the death of Jesse being too graphic. Turn it on and then get the hell out.”

  “Uh, yes sir.” He turned the video on and left the room.

  Yep, the bastards even have the NWO logo on the first few seconds of the video to show me it's one of their damned products. Jesse, you're carrying on like it was your nuts he just removed. I always figured the man didn't have much iron in him. Weak, and more like a woman than a man, the President thought as he watched the movie. Oh, damn, that man just took his nipples off with a pair of wire cutters. A few seconds more and Jesse was a dead man, his throat cut.

  At the video's conclusion, the President gave a loud sigh and said, “My friend, you didn't die well, not at all. I know some women who have more strength than you did. I'm sure they'd have died with less screaming and crying.” He knocked back his drink, stood and walked to the bar, where he filled his glass. While he'd never admit it, the movie scared him more than just a little, because he knew the NWO would do that to him unless he got in line with their orders again. He suspected they'd never really trust him again. He threw his drink back.

  He picked up the phone on his desk and pushed two numbers.

  “Norman, sir.”

  “Start the roundup of every man and woman in
the United States that voted Republican. I want all of them in concentration camps. Also put out the word that anyone found with a gun that is not a part of our system, is to be executed on the spot. Then contact the General in charge of the UN troops and arrange a meeting with him as soon as possible. Then, I want all my top level staff to move into the underground bunker until this war is over.” As he talked, he poured another drink.

  “Uh, my wife won't like that, sir.”

  “I didn't ask you what your wife likes, Norman, that was an order. I don't expect this war to last more than four years, but I can't say who will walk away as the big dog. If you need to use it, burn a copy of the DVD with Jesse's death and show it to her. We cannot risk having our people living with the rest of America with most not protected, not when we have enemies. The NWO has shown me they run things and I'll step back into my position with them, if they'll allow it. Now, you have until noon to get all of this completed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “In the meantime, bring me the NWO phone number and be sure to connect to our secure line. Be quick about all of this too, because our time is limited.”

  “Yes, sir, I'll be right there.”

  The President knew he was drinking too much, but didn't care. I figure with the odds being what they are, I'll be dead soon enough, and it won't be from liver problems, he thought. He then gave a dry laugh, wondering why he'd taken this job, but he knew; he was power hungry. He'd call the NWO and see if he could be accepted back into the fold. If they refused, his death was assured and soon, too.

  Norman walked in with a blue phone in his hand, placed it on the President's desk, and then plugged into the wall plug. He lifted the handset and heard a dial tone.

  “The phone is ready now, sir. I will return to my duties. If you need me, just buzz me, sir.”

  The President didn't reply, but did gesture with his hands, and it looked as if he was waving away a fly. Norman shook his head and left.

  The President downed two more doubles and then, picking up the receiver, he dialed a number he knew by heart, the number to the NWO.