My arms are aching. My elbows are bruised. My body is drenched with the sweat that only comes from hours of long, backbreaking labor. Unfortunately, this type of labor was aimed at keeping me alive. It has taken me over 6 ½ hours to get the 2 miles from the base of the bay bridge to Scotty’s old place. Now, standing in what’s left of his rickety apartment in this bomb-blasted tenement building, I really wish he were here. Scotty would know where to go next. He always did. He had that kind of prescience that only comes from long months and years spent in combat. You get to the point where you just know where the enemy was going to be looking for you next. Scotty told me something once: “You can never truly know where they’ll be, but you can always guess.” I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that until he explained it. He said that by understanding their tactics, you could make a fairly accurate guess as to what they will do or where they will go next. Since most governments and militaries tend to do things organizationally, you needed to understand the fundamentals of that organization and use it to your advantage. Most often this meant doing the irrational, the unthinkable. It has been this kind of irrational behavior that has made being inconspicuous a lot easier. Since Scotty and I both served as techno-Marines, we understood how the military did things. He, however, had the benefit of serving with several combat units during the war as an A-gunner on a crew served plasma machinegun. Funny little canisters of pure energy were belt-fed into that weapon at a rate of 22 rounds per second. The best part about that gun is it never jammed. The worst part is what it did to the human body. Trust me, you don’t ever want to see, up-close, the vaporization of another human. Eyes, lips, hair and scalp peel away and disintegrate as each round finds its mark. The smell of ozone along with a burnt, meaty undertone fills the air and makes you want to lose your lunch. Scotty taught me quite a bit while we served together. He also saved my ass on more than a couple occasions. Enough reminiscing though, I have work to do yet.

I creep into what remains of his Government Issue apartment and scan for any little presents left behind by those bastards who killed him. In the far corner of the living room, I notice they’ve left an optical sensor behind. Raising my electromagnetic pulse generator, what we in the military call the E-Pig, I quickly dispose of it. It falls with a thud to the threadbare carpet. Hopefully that’s the last of any surveillance equipment they’ve planted here. Stepping over the burned-out sofa that supported my ass on many Sunday afternoons, I begin to search for anything useful. In the kitchen cabinets I find some old MREs and decide to get some rest and a quick meal before continuing my search. Almost everything in them is still freeze-dried just like they were back when my father served 50 years ago. Only difference is how appetizing they used to be. Back in my Dad’s day, they used to use real meat, had real coffee, and even little packets of peanut butter. Nowadays, everything is synthetic including the coffee. That’s one thing I miss since the war. Real, old-fashioned coffee. But a guy’s gotta make do with what he has.

After a quick nap (never more than 20 minutes), I set about looking for anything else I could use. While checking the bureau in what’s left of the bedroom, my fingers touch upon a well-concealed trap door. It has to be Scotty again. I deftly trigger the spring-loaded latch and out pops the hidden drawer. Quickly scanning its contents, my eyes fall upon a letter addressed to me. Opening the letter, I begin to read:

Dear Jake, If you’re reading this, I’m sure you know that Carla and I are gone. I kinda figured you’d be the last one left. I want you to know that we fought them off as long as we could. If anyone can make those bastards pay it’s you. It’s always been you. Anyway, before I get too sappy, I’m sure you’re here to see what’s left of the”ancient arsenal” as we always called it. I took the liberty of stocking the place well enough over the years so that if any of us survived, we’d be able to continue fighting. I also left you a few surprises along with the supplies laid out down there. Among them is a portable “Canopy of Darkness” I perfected about 2 years ago. It took me quite awhile to get it down to a scale that made it easy to carry, but I knew if they came after us, we’d need it. Just like the normal COD, it requires no power.(I knew you’d like that!) There are also some of the newer weapons there that I was able to acquire through somewhat dubious means. Take it easy buddy. Kick some ass, and take some names. For ALL of us.

Scotty

Wiping away the tears after reading his note, I head out back to take inventory of what was left. If I know Scotty, there’s enough stuff hidden down there to arm a small country.

On to Chapter 6
Read from the beginning?

It’s been kind of funny recently watching the GOP implode with the latest news surrounding the indictment of Tom Delay, the SEC investigation into Bill Frist’s supposed “blind trusts” that his brother ran, the laughable nomination of Harriet Miers, and the pending indictments of several top advisers in the Bush Administration, chief among them Karl Rove. However, all this fun has morphed into a kind of sadness for this great country of ours. It’s sad that this nation’s citizens can’t seem to get along. It’s sad that we continue to elect representatives to Congress that are as corrupt as the day is long. At the center of it all is outright greed and lust for money and power.

Since the above was originally penned, some interesting new developments have taken place. Harriet Miers has withdrawn her nomination. Now, believe the Administration if you want, but it all came down to Not Having Enough Votes. Period. End of story. Sure, the cover story was nice, but listening to NPR yesterday gave me enough information from the GOP’ers (Congressmen, mind you) that it really boiled down to votes.

Today is going to be marked as an historic day. It is widely believed that Special Counsel Patrick Fitzgerald will be handing down his indictments of Rove, Libby, and perhaps others. While his two-year investigation has focused on so-called “provable charges”, personally I don’t think they go far enough. And by the way, don’t go looking for Rove to be fired anytime soon no matter what the President has said in the past.

It’ll be interesting to see the results of the charges Delay has lobbed at the judge in his case not being competent due to political contributions to organizations like MoveOn.org, etc. By his reasoning, I reject any legislation he sponsors as not being applicable to me because he’s a Republican. Sounds like a lotta horse-shit doesn’t it? That’s because it is.

You better get ready because a flurry of deflection is about to hit the MSM from the Whitehouse. Contrary to their “stay the course” message, this is one message they don’t want the American people to dwell on, especially with midterms coming next year. You can bet that a number of Bush backers and heavy hitters in Congress are on their way out the door come November ‘06. Once Fitzgerald’s indictments hit the press, the dominoes are going to keep on falling. Bush’s rampant cronyism (see Gonzales, Miers, Rove, Cheney, etc.) is wreaking havoc on this country. With Miers gone however, I’m almost scared who the next contestant will be.

Well that’s about it for today folks. I know posting has been pretty sparse, but work and home responsibilities have kept me away from here as well as Main and Central.