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This is a Trap The Second Republic - Patriot Acts Part II

You’re the President of the United States and your nation is confronted with a virus that kills upon contact and you have information that the terrorists are holed up in an apartment in Downtown Los Angeles. Your Intel says it’s real. Your human advisors are split on whether to strike or to wait. You have to make a decision and it has to be now. Read this excerpt from The Second Republic Patriot Acts Part II. It will give you a glimpse of what the Commander in Chief must do to save his nation.

This is a Trap

Washington, D.C.
March 6, 2011, 3:04 p.m.

“Are you sure, Sam; downtown LA?” President Tate asked Secretary Blake who appeared on the screen from inside the Homeland Security Department, not far from the White House.

“Yes, Mr. President. We have a large force ready in the Los Angeles area awaiting your word. I think we can get the bastard.”

Fisher was troubled and wanted to explain. “Sam, I think the President needs to know, first of all, how you got the info. Because you’re telling me a simple trace yielded you this much information? God is great and good, but He seldom gives up adversaries so easily, not impossible, but unlikely.” Samuel said, “Sir, it is our only lead. We have to take action.”

“Thank you both. I always come away knowing more about how you guys think.”

“Could I please add something?” Fisher asked. “We should not forget that this is the man who, in less than twelve hours, has possibly killed more people in a single terrorist attack than any other in recorded history and orchestrated the assassination of the Vice President. So, I am supposed to believe that this perverted genius simply forgot to protect his call? It doesn’t work that way; I know something about it. Sam, please don’t get angry at me, but it is my recommendation that we not pursue this lead. It was way too easy, and it feels like a trap. We should give the President some time to consider this.”

“I will call you back in ten minutes, Sam.”

“Certainly, Mr. President.” The call ended.

* * *

Downtown Los Angeles
March 6, 2011, 3:18 p.m.

“Sir, we’re rather exposed here. Should we stand down?” Captain Mitch O’Connell asked.

“No, this is how he works, but he always makes the right decision,” the Secretary answered.

“Just like HR 8791?”

“The President has not decided on that.” Blake added, “I’m going to pretend I did not hear that. Now, you give me ten, and you’ll have your orders.”

“Yes sir.”

Captain O’Connell peered down the corridor of the old apartment building that had more whore houses than he’d seen anywhere else in Los Angeles. All fifty of his men stood in line and waited for ten minutes that felt like weeks.
Washington, D.C.
March 6, 2011, 3:09 p.m.

“Fisher, we have to do something. Every lead must be pursued.”

“Mr. President, do you remember what you said about feeling something in your gut before they killed Bill? I get that same feeling about this raid. We’re dealing with a crazy man, but also a very smart man who’s so pissed he’s ready to take the entire human race with him into oblivion.”

Tate’s face took on a look of great anxiety. “I have the lives of Americans, possibly the entire world, in my hands right now. This is the decision of my lifetime; I know that. That’s how it works. We’ll see how much the American people want me if I do what it takes to end this crisis. The medicine is often as bad as the disease … this time worse.”

Secretary Blake’s face appeared on the large screen again. “Sam, I’m uploading.”

Sam pressed the send button and an order appeared on Tate’s screen. Using a small digital pen, he wrote his name on a plastic pad, and it appeared on the document. Tate then saved it and sent it back to Blake.

“Let’s hope we’re right, Sam.”

Downtown Los Angeles
March 6, 2011, 3:14 p.m.

“Captain O’Connell, engage.”

“Copy that.”

O’Connell flashed a thumb up, and his men eased up the stairs. Two of them carried a bar and heaved it two times before the door flew open. At that moment, a heavy deathly stream of smoke burst out of the room with the smell of burnt flesh that flowed through the air. The attack force rushed in and couldn’t make out anything clearly through the haze, and their eyes felt hot.

Their flashlights caught a scene that made several huge, macho men throw up their guts. Around them piles of gooey, grayish slime covered the floor. Full heads of long hair lay twisted in the center of each deathly scene.

“We’ve got a massacre here.”

“Sir, it’s hard to tell, but there appears to be about twenty dead illegal aliens here, and you called this a safe-house?”

O’Connell stepped across the threshold and covered his mouth and nose as his men spoke.

“Sir, look at that.”

“They’re all dead … melted, I mean wasted away … no more.”
“No one deserves this … no one.”

“Are you all right?”

“Don’t send anyone here. I am sealing the door. I repeat, send no one. Lord, please help us.”

“Captain O’Connell?”

“This is President Tate. How can we help you?”

“Sir, don’t send anyone here. It is a setup. We are sealing the perimeter, Mr. President and trying to stop outside contamination. You have to stop this or it’ll kill everyone.”

The assault team shut their radios off.

“O’Connell, are you there?”

The attack force members searched the apartment until they found an old mattress and some sheets. They threw them against the door and then sealed it with duct tape.

One, then three felt the internal affects of the virus almost immediately. The infection quickly spread to each one of them. Their lungs burned from having breathed in the biological death. They each pulled their guns and pointed them at their own heads.

“Live free or die,” they all shouted and pulled the triggers. Each of them fell to the ground. Several had already started to dissolve before deciding what death they should endure. The thick evil material engulfed each of them, who had already mercifully ended their own lives.

Washington, D.C.
March 6, 2011, 3:17 p.m.

“Sam, no one can leave that building,” the President demanded. “Anyone who attempts to flee is to be warned and shot if they do not comply. Activate the LAPD police network to consolidate their coverage. Their top priority is to facilitate the CDC in any manner requested.”

“Sam, you’re their boss now. I want helicopters overhead shining lights down there to make sure no one leaves. Get the army in there. We have a catastrophic event, and we must respond with catastrophic measures. Lincoln did it in a crisis not nearly as cataclysmic as this. Habeas Corpus is suspended until this order is rescinded, by the President. This order is in effect immediately at the sound of my voice, and a signed order will be forthcoming.”

“Yes sir, I will call out the all available National Guard and Reserves,” Secretary Blake said.

“I want restraint and demand fairness without neglecting to remember that these are our American brothers and sisters. In addition, Sam, all forces are now activated. This is a National Peril Alert. Any person, not stationed abroad, whether on leave of any kind, should report for duty immediately. Any member the United States Armed Forces who has not reported for duty by the end of April 7, 2011, without prior authorization, will be reported as AWOL. Get the hard copy to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir, as we speak, Mr. President.”

Tate switched off the screen. He pressed a button on his phone. “Michelle, are the documents ready? And everyone in place?”

“Yes sir, everything is in order. Mr. President …”

You can read these excerpts as well from The Second Republic:

The Second Republic - Patriot Acts II "This is an EMERGENCY!"

Flying Dead... The Second Republic Patriot Acts Part II

Take A Sneak Peek at Patriot Acts III The Consortium