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Chapter 8

Borga smiled as he read the report, that had just been handed to him. His numbers had tripled in just the past week. His people should be very pleased with him.

Now if only something could be done about the cops in this town, they’d blatantly ignored the fact that he was above their laws. They defiantly followed him around town, and they’d get businesses to hold his shipments.

Maybe he should start sending out messages, nothing deadly just yet. Just a few subtle warnings, to remind them as to just who is in charge.

Just a little something special to scare the bastards, a friendly reminder. If a cop’s family is marked, they usually fall in line. Many even become quite useful, anything to keep their family safe.

There were still a few cops that concerned him: Boris Stokes, Bill Wilson, and Rob Macalister. Fear just did not exist in either man. Stokes, was on another suspension. Deservedly so, the man was a barbarian.

Wilson must be made out of ice. The man showed no fear, and it would seem that his family was untouchable.

Macalister had told his men straight out that he didn’t believe in their immunity. That on his land he was God, his men had told him that this man was dangerous. Probably even more so than Stokes or Wilson.

It would seem that the whole town knew what he was in to. Some had actually embraced his concepts, they’d been paid well for their help, those that didn’t would be dealt with very soon.

If someone could help him to get to Stokes, then most of his problems would be over. Those that say it was best to fear Macalister were fools and fuck ups.

The man was miles out in the country, away from any possible help. He’d just deal with him at a later date. It would have to be something very special.

That other Macalister, the one that was leading the rebellion in Borger. That was the one that was to be dealt with right now. The man was costing him too much money, and in all likelihood could screw up a very carefully made plan.

Those that were paying him would not excuse failure, he could count on either a bullet, or he could possibly disappear forever.

Yes. It was very ballsey to be on these people’s payrole, to actually make plans, as well as to work with them. Who’d ever think that they would plan such an act. That president will be very sorry that he ever crossed Rogue Group.

Had I known that in a off way, we were all to play a role in history, I would have played my role better. If only, I’d had the foresight to realize that all of the happenings, in our little town was just a smokescreen.

So many people and so many deaths, and our own government right in the middle of it all. I’d never trusted anybody that spoke the words: “But we’re here to help you. You need to trust us.”

I’d rather take my chances with a rabid dog.

The one consistent thing in all our lives was our growing numbers. The press gave us some attention. But now with us being a small country type community, they too were country folks. They didn’t judge us in the paper, they spoke out vocally.

She was the first female to work as a reporter, actually she was freelance. Her name was Sally Ann. It took just one look for her to see, that we’d taken in orphans, and the elderly for her to swing her allegiance to our side.

Sometimes all it takes is for people to open their damn eyes to see. To actually see and stop being so damn judgmental.

Having her with us did complicate matters just a bit, but she had a lot of clout with a certain politician. Who we later learned was her uncle.

She played it straight with us from the start, God only knows what she’d expected to find in our compound.

The boys came in from their little mission of Lenny’s store. “We had a little trouble, but nothing that we couldn’t handle.”

I noticed two new faces and shook my head. They were Lenny’s employees. “Okay let’s hear it.” I said in a low voice.

“The FEDS decided to try and stop us, they fired first. We did try to reason with them sir, but they just weren’t into small talk.”

“How many did they loose?”

“Eight. But sir, I don’t think they were. . . I mean there was something about this group. They weren’t trained like the other FEDS. They came straight ahead, and we took em out. We brought the two employees, because we feared for their safety.”


“Just a feeling sir, nothing real tangible.”

Recruitment. They’d gone to recruiting. They were getting smarter and more cautious. Why-let their own men die, when hero-wannabes can fill that gap.

Group One may also be getting desperate, whatever was in the works may depend on the group as a whole. If they loose too many of their own people it would become a very large cluster fuck.

Okay, so the bad guys were attempting to grow a brain, how much more shit can get piled on the already growing mound? If they recruit experienced soldiers we may have a problem, but what soldier would ever do such a thing?

They had sworn that oath to support and defend the Constitution, to defend the country against all enemies foreign and domestic. The enemy was clear, and it was obvious that it wasn’t us.

I could only hope that the people joining the ranks of the enemy wasn’t mercs. If they were then we were going to be in trouble. Mercs have no honor and will kill women, children, the elderly and disabled.

But what could be so important? As a leader in some ways I was at a disadvantage. I had no idea as to how corrupt certain members of our government could actually be. Or how to counter.

Our government is based on fear. John Adams had said: Fear is the foundation of most governments. How true those words were to become for our own country, there were people being forced into bankruptcy by an uncaring government. The IRS having far more power than ever intended.

Agents will one day having the power to enter a home, and kill every living being inside, men, women, children, and babies. Even small inoffensive family pets.

The power to kill. To be so far above the law, that even God Himself would seem powerless. But like the Bible says: To all things there is a season. There is a time to loose and there is a time to kill.

Time is very strange thing, twenty to thirty years isn’t all that long. If a man or woman is thirty then they are still considered young. But thirty years in prison can be a lifetime.

In time people may actually see that some laws are wrong, they may even fight to regain what was suppose to be theirs to begin with. The right to run the government the way they feel it should be ran.

There may even come a time when the life expectancy of the lawless is shorter than that of a cockroach. But those days are probably way down the line, probably sometime in the next millennium, if ever.

If the lawyers and crooked politicians have anything to say or do about it those days will never come to be.

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