|
September 3rd, 2006 | #1 |
Opponent of Semitism
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Somewhere 'round here
Posts: 1,175
|
Fiction: Twilight
Twilight
Fiction by JoeSixPack (c)2004-2006 Chapter One: Terror It began in late December. I saw the signs, but I was not as prepared as I should have been. There had been talk of another terrorist attack before the congressional election, but the polls had opened as scheduled and the vile traitors in Congress had won re-election once again. Then the Capitol was destroyed by a mini-nuke, killing the President, Vice President and most of Congress. The country roared with outrage and demanded immediate obliteration of the home countries of the perpetrators. Of course the talking heads speculated endlessly about which Middle Eastern nation or nations were responsible, conveniently ignoring the one country in that part of the world known to possess such weapons. Quickly enough the evidence was found. A passport here, an operations manual written in Arabic there, and everywhere Muslims rounded up and “voluntarily” confessing to being part of the conspiracy. Not surprisingly, they also “voluntarily” implicated certain elements of the right-wing racist milieu. The President immediately ordered Martial Law and massive sweeps to round up dissidents. The 4th Amendment was voided, and Habeas Corpus was suspended. I knew they would be coming for people like me before too long and I had little time to prepare. I picked up the phone and dialed long distance. It rang eight times, then, “Hello?” “Hey Vic, the shit's hit the fan for sure,” I said, “I don't think we have much time.” “Joe, good to hear from you. I agree, its time. Let's plan our Party for tomorrow,” Victor said. “Have you invited Richard?” I asked. “Yes, he'll be there. Good luck.” Click. I set the phone back down. I heard an angry hiss behind me. “Joe, what are you doing?” It was Julie, my wife. “You aren't talking with THOSE guys again are you? You know they're nothing but trouble.” “Julie...” “No! I don't want to hear it. Didn't you see the President on TV?” “Come on,” I snapped, “You know I don't watch TV, baby.” “Well she said to watch out for people like that. You know I don't like what you talk about with them.” I frequently regretted marrying my wife of 3 years. When we had dated, she seemed to have no problem with my Politically Incorrect views. She was cute when she smiled and she had wanted at least three children. Recently, however, things had begun to change. She had gotten lazy, and quit her job. She decided that she did not want to have children, because “that would limit her freedom.” She got angry when I spent the weekend with Victor and Richard. “Julie, I...” “Joe, they're saying that people like you are criminals, that you hate this country and want to destroy it. I... I don't know what to think anymore... (Sob...).” “Look, Julie. I am a Patriot, and I want to see this country succeed. But don't you see that our government has gone bad? They are the ones responsible for this so-called terrorist attack – they are in league with the Zionists, hell, the Zionists ARE the government.” “Joe! You shut up. I'm not going to listen to that vile anti-Semitic crap anymore. You are a bad person, Joe. Sob... I thought I could change you, but I was wrong. I'm leaving. I'm going to my Aunt's house. You better think about what you really want. I'm not coming back. You're not going to see me again... ever.” She stomped out the door. I heard her car start up and tear out of the driveway. I sat in the living room and thought for a while as the sun sank towards the mountains. I wished I could have found a better woman, but that had been getting harder and harder these days. Too many White women were bedding down with Negroes, Mestizos, or Mongoloids. Many White men had strayed as well. Most of our people had become slaves to the Boob Tube. Too many had betrayed their Race. There were still choices available to thinking White Men, and I regretted settling for mine. Perhaps I could have done better. “Shit. I might as well turn on the TelAvivision just to see what the current Zionist Propaganda channel is spewing right now,” I told myself. Click. The immediate buzz of the 15.75kHz horizontal sync frequency assaulted my eardrums and caused me to retch involuntarily. “...and the Justice Department reports that they have discovered a new twist to the recent cowardly terrorist attacks against this nation's Capitol. Reports indicate that certain neo-Nazi elements in the unlawful Militia Movement in this country have conspired with anti-American Muslims to purchase one or more “suitcase nukes” from an unnamed country. All racist groups known to have communicated with the so-called White Riders terrorist organization have been declared illegal and their members are now wanted by law enforcement as Enemy Combatants. Acting President Rice stated that the perpetrators will be severely punished and requests that anyone with information regarding subversive neo-Nazi groups immediately call the Homeland Security Agency at 1-800-RAT-M-OUT. The President has personally offered a $1,000,000 reward each for the apprehension, dead or alive, of any member of the following groups: National Alliance, World Church Of the Creator, Ku Klux Klan, White Revolution, National Socialist Movement, Christian Identity, Aryan Nations, Council of Conservative Citizens, and others. The Justice Department also has offered $25,000,000 for information leading to the arrest of Owain McDonald, suspected leader of the White Riders, the specific terrorist group implicated in the Capitol bombing. Citizens are advised to ignore any hate propaganda purported to be from the White Riders and immediately to report any suspicious activity to the U.S. Government.” I gagged. They really filled the airwaves with this rubbish! I wasn't surprised. The White Riders was not a “terrorist group”. It was a small educational organization with a (so far non-violent) militia arm. We had committed no crimes but the U.S. Government Jew haters had declared war against us. That told me one thing. They feared us more than anyone else. Our flyer about U.S. Government involvement in manufactured terrorism and false flag attacks like September 11 had opened too many people's eyes. So They had marked us for death. They would regret it, I vowed. I sat for a while and pondered the mind-numbing poison spewed by the Zionist Propaganda Organ (ZPO), otherwise known as the TV. Shit. This was looking bad. The Zionists had engineered attacks against the United States and parlayed them into a war against American Patriots. I had been a member of the National Alliance not that long ago... I wondered if someone would sell me out for a million, or if that would even be necessary. Surely the FBI already had the membership lists. And the White Riders... That brought me back to reality. Click. The TV died, and my thoughts returned to Julie. Would she? How much did she know about me and Victor? And Richard? She didn't know about our weekend retreat or our leader, but I couldn't take the chance that someone would follow me there. The White Riders weren't a public organization, in fact we were very secretive, but we were aggressive. That didn't go over too well with the “powers that be” even though they knew little about us. I figured something bad was going to happen, quickly. Julie couldn't keep her mouth shut, not with a $1 million bribe (or even a $100 bribe, hah!). I considered my options while the last sliver of sun disappeared behind the Appalachians. I made my decision. I had to act now or I would be caught and confined to the torture camps with no chance for action. I jumped out of my chair and grabbed my Bug Out Bag from the hall closet. I checked it for the essentials: Glock 17, check. 500 rounds 9mm, check. Seven MREs, check. Gas mask, check. Kevlar vest, check. Kel-Tec 380, check. Fire starting and survival supplies, check. Encrypted radio, check. And 10 bottles of water, check. I donned my Kevlar vest and stuck the Glock in my waistband. “Back with a bang!” I thought. “Time for action.” I went to the safe in the bedroom closet. I removed $10,000 in twenty dollar bills and a flask of vodka. Might as well make the trip more fun, I thought. I glanced around the house for anything that I might have missed. Nope. Nothing here worth saving. I took a small bundle from under the bed and hooked a 9V battery to it, knowing it would permanently slow down any pursuers who came to the house. I ran to the door and set the bundle behind it, stopping only to flip a switch and pull the door shut. I had committed myself. I stopped for a moment to look at the stars, finding the Big Dipper and tracing its direction North to Polaris. “Odin grant me strength,” I prayed. “I'll need it.” I secured my bag to the back of my motorcycle, put on my helmet and cranked up the engine. The roar of the bike silenced my thoughts and gave me a burst of adrenaline. It was time. Time for what I had known was my destiny since I was a small child. I let out a roar and revved the throttle as I released the clutch. Gravel sprayed behind me as I ripped across the driveway toward the road. I was flying high. I slowed down a bit as I reached the main road and contemplated what the future might bring. It wasn't going to be easy, or fun. I might be killed, but that thought didn't deter me. My friends and family, what few I had, would be in danger. Except Julie of course. Hah! I was now entirely sure that I could not, should not ever have trusted her. The more I thought about her, the more I knew that she would, or had already betrayed me. I hadn't gone more than two miles before I knew something was deadly wrong. I glanced at the winding mountain road ahead. My heart leapt into my throat as I heard a siren approaching, and saw flashing blue lights just ahead around the bend. My right hand found the kill switch under the seat and the motor coughed and died. I swerved off the road as the blue lights came around the bend. I dodged a couple of trees and leaned into a turn, neatly laying the bike down behind some shrubs as the convoy of police screeched around the bend and past my position. I laid there for a long minute, listening to my thudding heartbeat and the tick-tick-tick of the cooling engine. The sirens receded and stopped. Then a minute of silence. I knew what was coming next. They were looking for me, though I had committed no crime, and they thought they could murder me at home and make it look like Justifiable Homicide because I was an awful neo-Nazi who had guns... Then it happened. The stutter of machine guns drifted across the valley. They were going in shooting, with no surrender allowed. Two seconds. A pinprick of light briefly flared in the valley. Then, “BOOM,” drifted out from the night. “Boooom,” echoed the distant mountains. The war had started. (chapter 2 coming soon)
__________________
"Evidence linking these Israelis to 9/11 is classified. I cannot tell you about evidence that has been gathered. It's classified information." -US official quoted in Carl Cameron's Fox News report on the Israeli spy ring and its connections to 9-11. |
September 9th, 2006 | #2 |
Member
Join Date: Jan 2006
Posts: 610
|
My pictorial fiction:
|
September 9th, 2006 | #3 |
Opponent of Semitism
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Somewhere 'round here
Posts: 1,175
|
Chapter 2
Twilight (c)2004-2006 JoeSixPack
Chapter Two: Escape I crouched behind the thin screen of bushes for several hours. Many more police and a few ambulances passed by. The ambulances came back by my way, but with their lights off. The Zionist murderers had lost a few of their own. I waited until I felt I could leave without arousing suspicion. It was late enough (about 0300) that anyone might be suspicious, but I had little choice. I had a Party to go to! I shrugged off the branches that I had used to camouflage myself and picked up my bike. I cranked the engine and sped off up the mountain. The cold December air felt good on my face. I eased along the ridges and peaks, through small towns and valleys, and let my mind relax. I was not afraid. No one knew where I was, though if they had, they would have regretted it! Ahh, there was nothing better than breathing mountain air! I plugged in my helmet headphones, and hit Play on my CD player. The sounds of Skrewdriver filled my thoughts. You ride through the streets with your head held up high For your flag and your country you're willing to die Your forefathers fought and your forefathers died They died for a feeling they felt deep inside... Before long I found the Forest Service road and turned sharply up the incline. I down shifted and gunned the throttle, the engine whining at the strain. I drove until the road ended at a metal guardrail with a “No Hunting” sign. To fight for your race is a gift from above... I dropped into first and made a hard right, tearing around the guardrail onto the bumpy dirt track. I thought about the terrible threat of the Zionist Occupied Government. How could we possibly beat them? Honor and Honesty were alien concepts to Them. Should we compromise our values to defeat Them? Some fools will oppose you, True Men will stay loyal But victory shall be ours for the blood and the toil... I opened my bottle and took a big swig of vodka. I drove on. You fight for your race which will be proud and free. And the only reward that you crave is victory... That's right, victory. I took another gulp. I was almost there. White Rider, White Rider, your Flag is your Voice. You scorn the conscripted, you're fighting through choice. I killed my engine and pulled my bike behind a massive boulder. There was a camouflage tarp stuffed under an overhang. I covered my bike and stopped to swallow another drink. I took a look around. I knew this place, having been here three times before. Still, it amazed me that our headquarters was this well hidden out here. I undid my bag, slung it over my shoulder and set out. I still had a long way to go on foot. As I walked along the deer path toward our hideout, I admired the expanse of wilderness along the mountain ridge. I crossed a small stream and walked down the slope toward a large creek. Before long I heard the distant thwap-thwap of a military helicopter and I instinctively dropped to the ground and rolled into the nearest cluster of mountain laurel. When I was sure the chopper had passed by I stood up, shook the dirt off of me, and continued walking. I knew that they had infrared cameras that could pick up body heat under tree cover from hundreds of yards away, but it seemed like I had gotten lucky this time. The sky was beginning to lighten and the sun would be coming up over the mountains any time. After a strenuous hour-long hike I came to a cliff with a small pond at the foot of it. Victor had told me that it used to be a quarry in the late 1800's and it had since been forgotten. He had turned it into our headquarters through thousands of hours of work. I circled along the left side of the pond and approached the cliff face. I came to a small rock platform over the pond and immediately against the cliff face. I had made it. I looked around the immediate area, focusing specifically upon the trail I had arrived upon. Everything appeared normal. I exhaled in relief.
__________________
"Evidence linking these Israelis to 9/11 is classified. I cannot tell you about evidence that has been gathered. It's classified information." -US official quoted in Carl Cameron's Fox News report on the Israeli spy ring and its connections to 9-11. |
September 19th, 2006 | #4 |
Opponent of Semitism
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Somewhere 'round here
Posts: 1,175
|
Twilight (c) 2004-2006 by JoeSixPack
Chapter Three: Plans I felt along the rock face with my right hand. Aha! There was the catch. I glanced behind me to ensure that no one was watching, and pulled the switch. A small facade swung away. I hurriedly ducked behind it and pulled it shut. I was left in complete darkness. There was only one thing to do: wait. About 30 seconds later, I was blinded by two spotlights just above my head. I heard the clank of a steel door opening and I squinted in the glare. The small room was formed of rough hewn rock in a roughly circular shape, with the door at the opposite end from which I had entered. “Joe, you're a bit early.” It was Victor. “Uhh... yeah Vic I ran into a problem.” “I know. You made the local news. Are you sure you weren't followed?” “Ninety-nine percent.” Victor walked over to me. His nose wrinkled. “Have you been drinking again? No, don't tell me, I know you have, so go ahead and have your fun now. This is serious business Joe, and you are going to need a level head tonight. But first let's go inside.” I walked ahead of Vic through the door and into the armory. This room was full of weapons, armor, and ammo. It was lit by a single fluorescent light fixture which flickered almost imperceptibly. Vic flipped a switch and the spotlights in the entry room faded out. He pulled the steel door shut and slammed the latch in place while I admired the collection of weapons along the left wall. There were several military issue M4A1s, two Barrett .50 cal semi-auto sniper rifles, and a large collection of 1911-style pistols along with shotguns and assorted other weapons. There were several crates of ammo and grenades on the floor. On the right wall were four specialized full body suits called Dragoon MarkIIIs. Vic made those himself, each fitted specifically for a single person. One was mine. I turned to Vic. “So... you said I made the news?” “Yes,” came the reply. “But many more of our friends did too. Few of them survived. Even fewer escaped. You can understand, then, that They will hunt you until They find you.” “They WON”T catch me!” “Don't be so sure. You are safe here for the time being, but you can't stay here and do any service for your people. You are needed out there, Joe. But They want me more than you. They may try to use you to...” “No! Never.” “Alright.” said Victor, “Let's not argue about it. We have work to do.” We walked down some stairs and through another doorway into the meeting room. It had been less than a year since I had seen this place, but still I was amazed by the incredible collection of electronic devices arrayed along the perimeter of the room. Radio/TV receivers and high gain transmitters, frequency counters, spectrum analyzers, oscilloscopes and all manner of computers. There was a cluster of LCD monitors at one corner. Victor motioned me over in that direction. “Take a look at this.” He hit a button on a keyboard. The nearest screen flashed to life. It was a recording of the local newscast. “Six Police officers were killed today in a botched raid on a notorious racist criminal's house,” said the Negro announcer in a hypnotic monotone. “The suspect Joseph A. Smith, AKA “JoeSixPack” apparently escaped, but a powerful bomb destroyed the house as police knocked on the door.” “What!,” I exclaimed. That wasn't how it had happened at all. They had gone in shooting, just as they did at Waco and Ruby Ridge. Oh, well. It didn't really matter since they didn't get me. “Smith is wanted for his connection to the National Alliance and the White Riders terrorist groups. (They flashed my Driver's License picture on the screen) The suspect is armed and dangerous. Anyone who sees this man must immediately notify law enforcement. A $10 million reward has been offered for information leading to his capture.” “Ten million!” I laughed. “They just raised the stakes, big time.” “Keep watching.” Vic hit another button and the newscast jumped ahead. The Negro droned on. “The Department of Homeland Security raised the terror alert to Red, and stated that new attacks are extremely likely in the near future. The Department also directed the National Guard to set up 24-hour roadblocks in every major city and along state borders. The President also requested UN troops for law enforcement in all metropolitan areas. All citizens be required to apply for travel papers in order to...” Vic killed the broadcast. “They are getting pretty serious about this martial law business, just as I expected. And they have completely memory-holed the Muslim angle,” said Victor. “This will slow us down a bit, but it will give us an advantage in public opinion after you complete your first mission.” “What's my mission?” I asked eagerly. Vic pointed to the table in the middle of the room. We sat down. He laid back in his chair and folded his arms. “What do you think we should do? What would you do yourself if you were alone?” I pondered the question. I would strike back, of course. “I would take out a few Zionist bastards, teach the rest of Them not to mess with us.” “We could do that, but do you think it would really help us?” “Sure, it would put some fear in the hearts of the evil Jews.” I smirked. “But what about the rest of the country? What would they think? What would they be told? You would only be validating the claims that the government has made about us. The public would oppose us.” Hmm. He was right. “There is a better way. We seize control of the TV, for as long as we can, and we tell the country the truth. At the very least, people will begin to question the Zionist fabrications.” I was skeptical. “How the hell do we do that? We would need an army of thousands and a huge video studio.” “No.” Victor smiled. “I have a way. You see, Joe, we don't need to capture every TV station in the country. Only one, and we will not even have to gain control of the building. All we need is control of their satellite uplink. I have already recorded the broadcast you will send.” “OK, so what is the target?” I liked this plan. “The CNN building in Atlanta.” “And what do I do?” “Well, it will take a little explanation. Are you familiar with EMP, electromagnetic pulse?” I had read something about that in the required reading that Victor had given me after I passed the test to become a White Rider. “Yeah, you mean like what nuclear explosions do outside the immediate blast area, where clocks and cars and computers and things like that stop working.” “Yes. But we are not going to be using a nuclear explosion to generate an EMP.” He lifted a bulky toolbox onto the table. “This is the EMP device. It will produce a localized pulse effect with a radius of a few city blocks.” I leaned forward in my seat. “How does it work?” Victor opened the box. I saw a large battery on one end. There was a copper tube in the middle with a large coil of wire surrounding it. The battery, tube, and the coil were connected to a thick cylinder on the other side of the box. There was a timer and a switch on top of the battery. Two wires ran from the timer to the side of the copper tube. It looked complicated. He pointed to the switch. “This arms the device. When you flip the switch...” Victor flipped the switch. There was a high pitched whine. I flinched. “It charges the capacitor.” He pointed to the large cylinder. “Then you set the timer.” He left the timer alone. “When the timer runs out, it detonates the Semtex explosive in the tube with the shock wave starting from the left edge. Then everything happens very quickly, within microseconds. The copper tube expands until it makes contact with the surrounding coil.” He pointed to the thick coil. “This causes a short across the capacitor, and a very large current starts to flow. As the explosive shock wave blasts across the inside of the tube, it expands towards the right and continues to make contact with the coil. The resistance steadily decreases, and the current increases quickly. It is this 'ramping current spike' that causes the EMP.” My fingers twitched. It sounded like this was going to be a long lecture. I reached for my flask instinctively. I took a swig. It was almost empty. I swallowed the rest for good measure and slipped the flask back in my pocket. Victor frowned. He flipped the switch back off and closed the box. “The explosion destroys the device, but the damage has been done. A massive surge will be induced in nearby electrical equipment.” I coughed, the vodka burning its way down my throat. “What will it do to me?” “Nothing, so long as you stay a good distance from the initial explosion. But any computers in the building will be damaged, if not destroyed. That should instantly stop their transmission. Then the satellite transmitter comes into play.” He pulled another smaller box off of the floor and set it on the table next to the first one. “The transmitter must be active BEFORE the the EMP device is detonated.” “But won't the EMP damage the transmitter?” “Theoretically, it could. However, I have taken pains to harden it against electromagnetic interference, and you must place it some distance away. It must be running in order to maintain a continuous link with their satellite, so that when the station signal is lost, the transmitter immediately jumps in, and the satellite continues to rebroadcast the new signal as if it was the old one.” “Okay, so I get into the building, turn on the transmitter, blow the device and escape? That's it?” “Essentially, yes. It will take some luck to pull it off.” “What if someone recognizes me?” Victor smiled again. “I have a very good disguise kit that should help out on that end. And Richard will be your wheel man.” “What about those travel papers They say we need to get into the city?” Again Victor smiled. “That won't be a problem.” “Great. When do we go?” “Tonight. You had better get some sleep, first.” I realized then how tired I was. My eyelids were getting droopy. Bed sounded like a good idea. I shuffled off to the bunk room and collapsed on the nearest cot. Sleep came easily. I did not dream. *** I awoke to the shriek of an alarm. I jumped up and reached for my Glock. Victor was standing in the doorway. “Relax, that should be Richard, right on time as always.” The alarm ceased. Victor turned and walked out toward the entrance. I pulled on my pants and threw on a t-shirt. I glanced at my watch. It was 1430. I had slept about eight hours and I felt entirely refreshed after what had happened last night. My mouth was a little dry and a drink seemed in order. Damn, the flask was empty, I remembered. I got up and walked into the meeting room, grabbing a granola bar and a banana for breakfast. I heard the metallic clunk of the outer door being closed and locked. As I chewed my food, Victor and Richard came down the stairs. Richard smiled. “Hey, Joe.” Rich was thirty years old, about six feet tall, with brown hair and green eyes. He was in excellent physical condition and had the sharpest mind of anyone I knew except for Vic. Rich was a neurosurgeon and explosives expert and he was fluent in six languages. He would make an excellent teammate for this mission. “Afternoon, Rich,” I mumbled through my full mouth. The two of them sat down and Victor started the briefing, going over what he had told me earlier. I finished eating breakfast. Vic then pulled out a sheaf of papers and a suitcase. “Here are your travel papers, with legitimate identities for each of you.” “What's our cover?” I queried. Victor smiled ever so slightly. “You, Joe, have a two part cover. In transit to and from the mission site, you will be Rabbi Shlomo Finkelstein.” He opened the suitcase and pointed to a curly black wig with a yarmulke attached and a large hooked latex nose. I groaned. Rich chuckled. “You, Richard, will be Avi Silverman, Mr. Finkelstein's chauffeur.” Vic pointed to another wig and a larger, more Jewish looking nose. Richard stopped chuckling. Victor turned back to me. “Once you reach the target area, you must change disguises and become William Miller, network technician. That is your cover into the restricted areas of the building; they will be expecting you. I have provided real ID cards and passports for all three personas, in case anyone checks up on you.” He looked at each of us. “Do you understand your mission?” “Yes, sir!” we said in unison. “Remember, do not under any circumstances harm any innocent people. Good luck.”
__________________
"Evidence linking these Israelis to 9/11 is classified. I cannot tell you about evidence that has been gathered. It's classified information." -US official quoted in Carl Cameron's Fox News report on the Israeli spy ring and its connections to 9-11. |
September 19th, 2006 | #5 |
Opponent of Semitism
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Somewhere 'round here
Posts: 1,175
|
Some notes
I wrote the first 3 and 1/2 chapters of this story in August and September of 2004.
I edited the first 3 chapters slightly before I posted them in 2006. Chapter 4 will be updated and completed before the month is out. There are two sequels in progress for this book.
__________________
"Evidence linking these Israelis to 9/11 is classified. I cannot tell you about evidence that has been gathered. It's classified information." -US official quoted in Carl Cameron's Fox News report on the Israeli spy ring and its connections to 9-11. |
September 19th, 2006 | #6 |
Opponent of Semitism
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Somewhere 'round here
Posts: 1,175
|
Also
Keep in mind that this is entirely fiction and that I am not the fictional character depicted in the story, nor are any of the other fictional characters intended to represent real people or events. Neither do I endorse using fictional methods to advance any cause. Only real methods work.
Standard disclaimer. :cheers:
__________________
"Evidence linking these Israelis to 9/11 is classified. I cannot tell you about evidence that has been gathered. It's classified information." -US official quoted in Carl Cameron's Fox News report on the Israeli spy ring and its connections to 9-11. |
Share |
Thread | |
Display Modes | |
|