Author Steven Clark Bradley is a multifaceted, professionally published author. Because of Steven’s unique experience as a world-traveling author, he is able to very vividly and authentically write about place that many have only read about and few have actually seen. Steven simply loves writing, and he has been blessed to travel extensively and loves to see the world. His travels around the world to 35 countries give him a really interesting amount and unique ways of explaining the characters in his stories. The driving force of his life is to tell the world around him what he has seen and how it impacts our lives today, how yesterday brought us to where we are now, and how it will certainly affect us all in the future.

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Showing posts with label Patriot Acts III. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patriot Acts III. Show all posts

The Consortium - Patriot Acts Part III - Inevitable?


Martial Law has been declared, American Troops have been deployed on the streets of all the major cities of America. Americans have been ordered off the streets and into their homes. Patriotic Americans take to the streets to fight for their freedom, and are shot on sight. Does this sound impossible? Does it seem like that could never happen in the home of the free and the land of the brave?

Yet, when a free people no longer cherishes their freedom, when the previous generation no longer passes on the heritage that shed its blood to gain their liberty the only result can be the loss of appreciation and undervaluing of the truths that forged our nation. Such behavior, such lack of resolve to pass on the truths of the American experiment will not make the fall of the republic possible. In truth it will make the loss of liberty, self governance and self determination inevitable.
Steven Clark Bradley
Author of Patriot Acts Nimrod Rising StillBorn! Probable Cause

The Consortium


Chapter Eighteen


Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:47 p.m.

At his home, frightened, angry and ready to run, Richard Leitner, the newest former Secretary of the Treasury by virtue of his firing by President Fisher Harrison earlier in the day, stood at his study in Georgetown, truly one of the classiest famous neighborhoods located in all of the Washington D.C. metropolitan area. He was shamed and out of a job. He looked out the large bay windows of his nine million dollar overlook of the Potomac River front. He had given his life for the Consortium, now; he faced certain ruin and shame all because of a president of less than two weeks who thought he could just throw his career and reputation in the garbage.

“I’ll be damn if he’ll take it all away from me.” He yelled out to no one in particular, with the sincerity of the traitor he was.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:49 p.m.

The trucks that had now encircled the US Capitol were not silent about it. Shots could be heard in the distance, and every person in the Chamber, political, journalistic, civilian or military knew that something was getting ready to explode. Fisher wondered if the pressure was to induce capitulation, or if or if more radical measures were planned to bring about the fall of the government of the United States.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the sound you hear outside these cherished walls, is the sound of threat and the total loss of liberty, the hands totalitarian rulers that will replace one of freedom and thought, which ultimately took it all for granted. Those sounds can never lead to peace, but should provoke a response. Tonight I give you my reply to the Consortium.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:49 p.m.

After Leitner left the Oval office, earlier in the day, he felt ill, nauseous and absolutely terrified. He had traced his steps back and realized that Morgenthau had given him a drink in the limousine to calm his nerves and to persuade Leitener that the Consortium had another job for the now unemployed former Secretary of the soon to be debunked Treasury.

“I just wasn’t cut from the same bitter cloth that Morgenthau and Berkowitz were.” Leitner told himself and rubbing the back of his head. “They know it too.” Leitner’s heart seemed to skip a beat when he thought about what they would do to him. “I’ve been such a coward, only good for final options.” Leitner told the afternoon air.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:51 p.m.

“Earlier today, I asked for a meeting with the Federal Reserve Chairman Mr. Timothy Morgenthau and the Secretary of the Treasury Mr. Richard Leitner. As all of us realized very quickly, when we rose this morning that all of our lives had changed forever, during the night. Our money was gone, our economy was collapsing and tens of thousands of troops have been dispersed throughout the country with the authorization of no one inside the United States government.

“I welcomed these two men into the Oval Office with the hope of being informed as to the nation’s security and financial survival. Keep in mind, these are the men and women who fed the SPU, which we had only recently taken down by force.

“It has been estimated that these men and women of money-lust lost over eight hundred billion dollars when the SPU fell. Now, these hidden-away forces, the same powers who were directly responsible in the deaths by assassination of two great Presidents, Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy who had both spoken out against the Consortium.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:52 p.m.

Richard Leitner continued peering out his bay windows, beyond the Potomac. He could see the great majestic dome out in the distance. The Capitol’s lights that covered the circumference of the dome along with the White House seemed like the coliseum without gladiators. The lights illuminating the darkening sky gave off a false sense of power and filled the almost night sky with thoughts of a once greater day of the power of the American Republic.

“It’s only an image, now; more like a fable.” Leitner said aloud while never taking his eyes off of the capitol building. Somehow, Leitner was surprised that it hurt him to see it all tottering so. He had been sure that the end of the government would somehow be a great thing. Then he felt the claws of the Consortium extend their reach when they were forced to recoup their money. Yet, against his will, he wished it could be as it had always been, but he knew it would never be again. That image, the great country, which had helped defeated nations rather than crushing them would soon become members of the ‘Used to be powerful’ club.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:54 p.m.

“This afternoon, in the Oval Office, two extortionists, men in whom the country had placed its trust, sought to force my government’s hand to give them eight hundred billion dollars today or in two hours face the complete and utter collapse the economy of the United States.

“Since 4:00 a.m. this morning, these evil hoarders of wealth have siphoned off five trillion dollars and distributed it to other countries as seen fit by the Consortium. It is their intension that America never be free again.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:55 p.m.

America was only minutes from a fundamental transformation, and Leitner knew it. In fact, he knew everything that the Consortium had planned, which he also knew made him a very great threat to the cabal. The former Secretary of the Treasury realized that he had become a liability, a danger, a useless mind full of all the tactics, mechanisms and plans of an international club of cutthroat financial terrorists who would stop at nothing now to get all the power they craved. Leitner knew he had failed them.

He remembered going to the Doctor to get rid of the massive headache he had endured since Morgenthau gave him the drink. All he could recall afterwards was waking up in his bed. He still wasn’t sure that the Doctor and the headache had been real or a dream. The pain in the back of his head was no dream, though.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:57 p.m.

Fisher picked up a copy of Kennedy’s 1963 Executive Order for the printing and the circulation of silver backed dollars. “Here is a piece of history that is now serving as a true sign of God’s hand to protect us.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 4:57 p.m.

Peter Barlow and Warren Berkowitz knew exactly where Richard Leitner was at the moment. They could see his every movement.

“Warren, he’s going to be on the move. Should we activate him?”

“Well, I’d rather just terminate him, ha-ha, for the second time today, just in a more permanent manner, if you know what I mean, but that would take all the Irony out of the plan.” Berkowitz said.
“You are a witty one, Berkowitz, but right now, I need an answer.”

“Considering that this is the only remaining use for the wimp, so, let’s squeeze his last drop if utility right out of him, Peter, my man. Activate now.”

Both Peter Barlow and Warren Berkowitz saw Leitner’s front door open slowly. Peter placed Leitner’s new ID into the computer and the link to the chip that had been planted in the back of his head only hours earlier, at the doctor’s office, came to life.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:59 p.m.

“Firstly, before riding over to the Capitol today, I signed an Executive Order instructing the US Treasury to print gold and silver backed currency. This process is already underway. In addition, I have issued an order that Federal Reserve notes shall no long be accepted as legal tender for the payment of debts or for issuing credit at midnight, March 25, 2010. All Federal Reserve notes will be turned in and an equal amount of Silver Backs will be returned to you.

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:59 p.m.

Richard Leitner decided to get out while he still could. He had frantically run around his house gathering the things a single bachelor would need or want. He had closed all the blinds, locked every window and door and set the surveillance system then picked up the two suitcases he had had just enough time to prepare. He planned to drive over to the Treasury to confiscate some personal files and things. Then, his whole body felt like it had been hit by a massive bold of lightning and made him drop the suitcases and the front door key to the ground. His head again began to pound and he threw up all over his front porch and his hand searched on the ground for the key.

“Richard … Richard Leitner, forget the key, forget the door; forget the suitcases.”

Leitner raised his head. Puke had splattered, all over his face. He heard the voice, and it sounded like someone right next to him. He rose off his knees and stood looking around in every direction.
“I know you’re confused. Who wouldn’t be? The sickness will go away soon.”

“Who are you … where are you?”

“That does not matter. We need your help, and then you can be free to live your life.”

Leitner laughed. “I know Berkowitz. Evidently, you do not. Perhaps Morgenthau would give me another chance. Not, Warren; if you asked him about me, he’d say he had already forgotten about me and to learn not to care.”

“Yes, in fact, that’s exactly what he said.”

“I don’t care either. So, get in your car and drive to the Capitol and walk up to the main entrance and show your pass. It’s still active, I checked. Someone will be there to give you something. Take it and wait for further instructions.” Peter ordered Leitner.

Leitner was still feeling sick and fought against the involuntary movements that the voice in his head seemed to be able to control. After a minute, the pain in his head was gone, the fear was nonexistent and he was under Peter Barlowe’s command.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:01 p.m.

“While speaking with Treasury Secretary Richard Leitner this afternoon, I informed him that he was being terminated from his job. The Assistant Secretary of the Treasury is the interim Chief Financial Officer of the United States. I have also issued a warrant for former Secretary of the Treasury Leitner for treason as traitor of the United States and an enemy combatant based on his profound cooperation with the Consortium.

22,000 Feet and descending over Belgium
March 11, 2011 1:01 a.m. G.M.T.

“Yes, yes, Peter, you have done well. But then, the guy’s so fearful that we probably didn’t need to spend the money to chip him. I really like that part about forgetting the key and the door; oh, and the suitcases. That was a hoot.” Berkowitz said and laughed. “I mean, he won’t be needing it anymore, anyway. Oh, the things we do for our country.”

“Leitner’s walking up to the main entrance of the capitol as we speak.” Both Barlowe and Berkowitz went silent and just watched Leitner carryout their orders.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:03 p.m.

“Finally, tonight is a night that history will record as the gravest danger that the United States has ever endured. Will it record that we capitulated or that we prevailed against a richer and more advanced enemy, because that’s how we won the first revolution, against incomparable odds, and that is how we shall win the second.”

Everyone in the chamber rose to their feet and applause rang out. Fisher let them express their hope and courage while American troops surrounded the Capitol with tanks pointing their turrets towards an army’s own government.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 5:03 p.m.

Peter heard what President Harrison had just said, and so had Berkowitz. He knew Berkowitz would order the attack, now that President Harrison proved himself to be all the Warren Berkowitz had said he was. Peter disconnected from Berkowitz for a moment and flipped a switch on a router at just the moment Berkowitz was cut out.

“What was that?” Peter asked Berkowitz. “I hope you have all this crap verified.”
“Trust me boy, have I betrayed you?”

Peter laughed and sneered as he spoke back to Berkowitz. “Of course not; you still need me.” Peter replied. “Trust you, not the best choice of words. Warren, earlier today, you brutally wiped out the one person you actually choose as a child to be with you. Yang didn’t have to die. I worked with him, and he was a great young man, full of reasons to have been kept alive. So, don’t ask me to trust you.”

“Is your mind still back at that courthouse? I had already forgotten him. Let me tell you, I think of people as opportunities. I refuse to be attached to any one of them. I have outlasted everyone of my generation, Peter, my boy, simply because I don’t care. Those three words make the world go round. We have caused uprisings and have squelched them when they had served us enough. We’ve fought wars and supported both sides, killed millions, saved as many and have forgotten so many, many more than we remember and we did it all with money. That’s paper, Peter my man. The only way to survive in the midst of that kind of experience is to let yourself be devoured by it; to let it overtake you until the pain and lack of mercy all around you no longer moves you, until you say with sincerity, I don’t care.”

“And that’s the world I am helping you create? Maybe I’m on the wrong side.” Peter taunted Berkowitz.

“It’s the only world I’ll let be and live. Let’s check out the equipment, what ya say? Are the links all set?”

Berkowitz pushed enter and a transfer of over five trillion dollars started from hundreds of thousands of banks across the nation to two hundred and fifty different banks in thirty-five different international banks. “It’s our money. It has our name on it and that big eye over the pyramid kept our investment secure. Now, the risks far outweigh the benefits.” Berkowitz told Peter.

Peter pressed enter and almost all of the one hundred forty-five thousand troops now distributed across the nation came under the Consortium’s control.

“There are a couple hundred links that are down, but they’ll be overrun. The board’s lit up and I’m activating the trucks.” Peter told Berkowitz.

Peter typed in the number of ten of the chips that had been embedded. The computer found them and sent out a super secure inscription to them. Peter typed the command.

“Encircle the US Capitol, activate the devices and wait for further orders.”

The infantrymen started their trucks and stationed themselves all around the capitol. They secured their locations and posted lookouts. They each turned around and cut a hole into to the back seat and all saw a series of rods, warm to the touch, was arrayed with wires and electronic switches. Each of them heard their orders repeated to engage the device. They all found the USB ports and connected them to a WIFI router relay that could receive and send signals to all simultaneously.

The ten chosen infantrymen were sent the connection request that was accepted and instantly, each of the ten electronic detonators’ signals was locked onto the router that made them all act as one against a common target, the United States of America, all with a single press of a button. The infantrymen covered the back seats and waited. One of them was given an extra task to complete. He headed for the main entrance.

Chapter Nineteen
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:04 p.m.

Richard Leitner walked at a normal pace up the powerful steps and right up to the front door of Capitol Hill. He had a normal look across his bearded face. Earlier in the day, President Fisher Harrison had shaken Leitner’s frame of mind, and now Peter Barlowe and Warren Berkowitz had reshaped it. Leitner was placid, stoic and without fear as he walked up the steps to the front entrance.

The soldier who had been assigned to wait for Leitner walked over to him.

“Sir, this is for you.”

He handed Leitner a small box and the soldier returned back to his truck. Peter told all ten of them to verify the devices planted in their backseats. They were all online.

Leitner heard Warren Berkowitz’s voice speaking to him in his head. “You know, I was pissed off with you, but I thought, I’ve got the perfect way to redeem yourself. Richard, you are doing a great service to the next great global power, the United National Consortium. It is you who will launch the newest shot to be heard around the world.”

“Warren, I know what you’ve done to me, it is obvious. Damn you, I would have given my life for you.”

“So, what’s the problem? You’re about to do just that. Now, here’s what I want you to say.”

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:08 p.m.

Fisher paused and looked all around the room and took in air before he announced his next decision. “This is an extraordinary moment, and unfortunately, I must take extraordinary measures to combat the evil that is about to be unleashed upon the American people. I ask you to bear with me and consider my reasoning, and to give me your trust. The American People know who I am and that I will keep faith with you.”

US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:08 p.m.

Richard Leitner walked up to the security desk and swiped his badge. The light turned green.

“I want to say good evening, Mr. Secretary, but it don’t feel much like one.”

“Believe me, I know what you mean. It’s been maybe the hardest day of my life. Hope I live through it.” Leitner replied with a smile and leaned over the counter and pulled the guard toward him and spoke softly into the man’s ear. “You need to get all these people out of here.” The words came from Leitner’s lips, but the thoughts were Peter Barlowe’s.

“This place is going boom, and you need to get as far away as possible.” Peter looked into the guard’s face. “Do it now, you have not time to waste.” Leitner walked on through security calmly and steadily up to the House Chamber door and waited there. He slowly opened the box the soldier had handed him at the entrance. It was a remote with just one button.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 5:10 p.m.

“Open the door and walk into the chamber.” Peter told Leitner. When he walked in and looked at the crowd there. He realized that everyone knew who he was, and many knew him well. They were not all great men and women, but they did love the country, and many of them loved him, but they wouldn’t after today.

Peter attached a separate cable to the router and sent signals to three different embedded chips. They already had their orders; and were already in place and awaiting instructions; orders that Warren Berkowitz knew nothing about. Peter activated the links and repeated his instructions.

“Come out of hiding and activate plan seventy-seven, on my signal.” Peter saw three lights flash on the screen. He isolated them on the grid and washed them through the system and rendered them invisible to everyone, except for Peter Barlowe. The three immediately did as they were instructed. Berkowitz could hear none of it, but he’d know soon enough from the TV.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:12 p.m.

“Let me say that I never sought this position, but it sought me. It has followed me everywhere I’ve gone, no matter how much I tried to run from it. So, it is apparent that I am in the will of a good and righteous God. No president would ever choose to be in such a dire position so early in his term, but this is the task before us, and we will shrink from doing our duty. For, we demand to be free.”

Leitner began walking forward past the members of the Senators and of the House, all of whom knew who he was. They smiled as he walked forward and closer to the President of the United States. It seemed somehow normal, since Leitner was not a stranger at all, and had been Secretary of the Treasury for over two years, one of the most high profile jobs in Washington D.C. Even so, it seemed odd to see this man walking up the center isle towards the President, in the middle of such a powerful and important speech.
“Effective, midnight tonight, I am declaring Martial Law in all fifty …”

“Mr. President!” Richard Leitner powerfully yelled out.

The mere sound of a high-pitched voice sent Senators and Representatives diving to the floor for fear of being shot. The press went wobbly and ran and hid behind anything they could find, but their cameras continued rolling and they filmed an embattled new President of the Republic standing alone, seemingly undaunted by the face of Richard Lietner staring back at him.

The former Secretary of the Treasury felt a twinge of fear looking at the madman behind the presidential podium. Fisher Harrison stood there and sized up this man and knew this was Leitner plus something else.

He’s chipped. Fisher knew that Berkowitz was squeezing the last ounce of usefulness out of Leitner.

“Richard, are you alright?” Fisher asked seeing the remote in his right hand.

“Mr. President, your fired!”

Peter held Leitner’s finger off the button, and Berkowitz and Morgenthau went crazy.

“Peter, what are you doing? You better have this right, or you die before I do.”

“Not to worry Satan, hell is on its way.” Peter replied.

To the utter shock of every member of congress and the media, whose cameras captured it all, three Special Ops wearing Chameleon suits seemed to slide out of the walls and ran up to the president and surrounded him. the Secret service fired shots, but there was such a high degree of confusion, they didn’t know who to shoot at. The Chameleon suits made it seem that Fisher had been fighting with the air. Slight traces of the three figure could be seen, but the Secret Service was for all practical purposes, blind.

Fisher had not forgotten how to ride a bike and he still knew how to kick someone’s ass. He began fighting and the three knew that he’d never be taken alive that way. One of the Special Ops pulled out a gun and shot a dart into Fisher’s neck. Fisher pulled it out, looked at it and fell to the floor. They picked him up and carried him out of the chamber and quickly outside. They cuffed the president and carefully placed his drug-induced sleeping body in the back of the SUV and raced away.

One of the Special Ops spotted Chief of Staff Michelle Oh. He ran over to her and shot her with a dart also as she was running away from him. She fell to the ground and he scooped her up and ran. She too was placed in the SUV.


On the Runway, Brussels, Belgium
March 11, 2011 5:13 p.m.

“What the hell was that? I didn’t authorize saving the bastard. You’re supposed to kill him. You’re pissing me off too, Barlowe.”

“Warren, go to hell.” Peter calmly replied to Berkowitz. Then he typed in an encrypted message to Leitner.

“All Fall Down.”

Richard Leitner, who had awakened in the morning highly respected as the Secretary of the Treasury and was about to die in the same evening of the very same day, as a an enemy of the State and a total disgrace. He held his hands straight up in the air, as Berkowitz ordered him to do. A terrified Congress began rising up off the floor and looked at Leitner. He had been their friend; he had kept up with the Washington party circuit and many of them only now realized it was him. Almost every one stood up now and looked at Richard Leitner. He was not an unpopular guy, until today. Then he screamed.

“Goodbye, America!”

Lietner pressed the button on the remote, and the earth beneath everyone in the US Capitol began to belch and the air was wiped clean from the building as the ten different dirty bombs planted in the trucks surrounding the US Capitol all detonated at the same time. Each one was filled with highly enriched uranium nuclear waste. All ten trucks took on a momentary, very quick red glow, as the devices activated, sizzled and then instantly incinerated everything in its path. The walls of the Capitol were blown inward and the entire structure came down with a sound that sounded like hundreds of voices crying out in sheer and utter pain, which was exactly what it was. The dome collapsed straight downward crushing anyone who was in the rotunda.

Nearly everyone in the House of Representatives Chamber was dead. In one attack, more than half of the government was gone. The explosion tore the building apart. The history of the nation and every living and dead body in the old, sacred, now destroyed monument of freedom and power would devastate the nation to the point of collapse. Suddenly, the whole building began to shake and a deafening rumbling sound of steel bending and walls falling flowed through air as the US Capitol tumbled to the ground in a massive heaping pile of rubble.

The Secret Service who had survived were frantically looking for the president. “Is there anyone there, is there anyone there? Where the hell’s Law and Order?” The large room had gone pitch dark with the lights all blown out and the smoke and something else left the taste of metal in the mouth and it burned the eyes. “We can’t find POTUS.”

The dead were the lucky ones. Instead of dying an instant, painless death, in about thirty minutes, survivors would experience severe nausea. Slowly, but progressively, disorientation would invade their minds. Vertigo and a rapidly world room would make walking impossible. The pain would be unbearable and their bodies would shut down all their organs as the radiation invaded their minds and bodies. In less than an hour, they’d all die.

Survivors, inside and outside the ruins of the US Capitol opened their eyes and felt their hearts beating quickly. Their blood pressure then dropped rapidly and their breathing became labored. Their faces were drenched with sweat as a high fever set in; the results of the overwhelming affects of the massive dose of radiation from the ten devices now clinging to the air took its toll. Over half of congress lay dead on the House Chamber floor and lying in their vomit, and many would soon pray for death.

Outside the capitol, several thousands of US troops lay dead and thousands were on the ground surrounding Capitol Center writhing in pain. None of them would survive.

World Bank, Brussels, Belgium
March 11, 2011 5:15 p.m.

“Good, now that’s more like it. Hollywood still can’t top the real deal.” Berkowitz laughed and clapped his hands. He was jubilant with the success of the mission and ready to open up Pandora’s box.

“Peter, Peter are you there?” The radio echoed in the lower part of the operation’s building at Ft. Myers. No one was there and no one was coming back.

“What the hell, I’m, I mean we’re in charge now. I’ll do it myself.”

Berkowitz sent out a link to all forces under his control. Immediately tanks and armored vehicles began rolling into the streets of every major city in the country. Emergency bulletins began constantly repeating on every TV and radio in the country.

“A state of emergency has been declared. We are now under Martial Law protocols. You are not to leave your dwellings. Anyone found outside will be shot on sight. You are ordered not to leave your dwellings. A state of emergency has been declared. We are now under Martial Law protocols . Anyone found outside will be …”

Thousands of Americans ran out of their homes and poured into the streets. These were their kids carrying those guns and in those tanks. Aircraft flew low over the cities and Black hawks hovered over hot spots where large groups of angry Americans had gathered with large, small, legal and illegal guns and firing them into the air at the jets that were circling. Several Black hawks engaged fire on those armed below. Americans were dying by the hands of Americans. Those who refused to listen to the troops that Berkowitz had sent out were shot on sight and chaos filled the streets of America’s greatest cities.

“We have no enemy to find us now.” Berkowitz said over the radio.

Raven Rock Mountain Defense Base
March 11, 2011, 5:22 p.m.

“Did you get that location?” Raven Rock Site R Commander Rush asked nervously.

“Yes sir, it originated in Brussels.”

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley

Where is Patriot Acts available?

This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Amazon,com

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Cambridge Books

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Ebooks on the net

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Amazon.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Fictionwise.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Mobipocket.com

I hope everyone who reads this will not just think
it is entertainment or the irrational rambling of a scared
American. I am not afraid; I am convinced that no one
will secure our future except us.
That is why I declare the main theme of Patriot Acts
in one key phrase:

No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!


You can read more of
Steven Clark Bradley's
work
at any of these blogs
listed below:


The Consortium - Don't Be Afraid To Fight This War...


The Consortium finishes the Patriot Acts Trilogy...

In Part One we saw an evil plot between Iran and right-wing radical American Nazis to destroy the nation. In Part II, the plausible scenario of a biological terror attack ruthlessly is hatched by enemies of the state. In Part III of the Patriot Acts series the world banking and global power brokers are explored.

In September, 2008, The Fed and the treasury came to President George W. Bush and issued him a suicide threat. Secretary Henry Paulson walked into the Oval Office and put a gun to his own head and said, $800 Billion or in 24 hours we die and 5 trillion dollars would disappear with the entire world economy. President Bush said yes. What if he had said NO?

Chapter Fifteen

The White House,

Washington, D.C.

March 11, 2012 3:42 p.m.

“I am placing the nation under emergency powers effective upon my signing of this document. The authority of the Emergency Powers Act will not be enforced until tonight, but the temporary powers of the moment do immediately grant the president the power to appoint anyone to vital vacant seats in the Executive Branch. Technically, the speaker has not officially recalled Congress back from recess. I love that word recess; it suits them perfectly.” Fisher chuckled.

Michelle handed Fisher the document and he placed his signature in the appropriate place. Then, Michelle gave President Harrison a second document. Fisher read it out loud.

“By the powers under the State of National Emergency act of 1977, the president has the power to appoint any vital vacant seat and it shall not be automatically removed when and if emergency rule is lifted, and only shall the president’s appointments be removed by resignation, end of life issues or impeachment for high crimes and misdemeanors, as prescribed by law and the Constitution of the United States of America.

“Therefore, I hereby appoint Hamilton W. Smith to be Vice President of the United States.” Fisher signed the appointment letter and looked at Hamilton. Fisher thought he looked excited and terrified at the same time.

“Hamilton Smith, would you raise your right hand?” Fisher asked.

Hamilton raised his hand and slightly pulled it down two times before Fisher recited the words and Hamilton repeated them. Secret Service came to the door and Fisher, Michelle and Vice President Hamilton Smith all walked out of the Oval Office and headed to two different escorted cars which would depart for two different escorted places.

Hamilton’s destination was in hiding in an undisclosed location, while Fisher’s destination was for the whole world to see. Fisher leaned over to speak to Hamilton as they walked down the White House hallway.

“Hamilton, way back in time, at Iron Mountain prison in Alaska, you remember.” They stood in front of two different limousines and Fisher took his new vice president’s hand and congratulated him. “Well, Hamilton, I just wanted to take back some words from way back when I said in a moment of foolish jesting. Because you’re not just a Smith; you are Vice President Smith.”

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 3:52 p.m.

“Approach, I need assistance. This is Captain Ray Jerrod; the coordinates you have sent us do not work. You are taking us into the wall of the mountain.” Jerrod pulled and banked left. Jerrod was a good pilot, and he knew this was not an error. Such errors don’t just happen.

A mountain wall appeared before the pilot and he heaved the yoke back all the way. He feared a stall as he had aimed the nose almost straight upward. Margaret and Nate were strapped in, but both had passed out from forces that neither this plane nor human bodies were built to withstand.

“Control, this is GB1 taking evasive action maneuvers and …”

“We’re gonna make it.” The pilot screamed out and straightened out the airplane. “Get back there and check on them.” The navigator specialist got out of his seat and opened the cockpit door. He saw the First lady slumped over and her baby had started crying.

He quickly walked over and called out her name. “Mrs. Harrison … Mrs. Harrison, are you alright?” Margaret’s eyelids began to move and her eyes blinked and finally, she moaned and cried out,

“Where’s my baby?”

Over Iceland,

the Atlantic Ocean

March 11, 2012 7:55 p.m.

Roger, GB1.” The control officer passed his microphone to a tall man with wavy hair in a nicely knitted suit. “He’s all yours Mr. Berkowitz.”

“Well, Peter, so you are a man of character, whatever that means, but I like you. You’re the other side of me.”

“You lie; I am nothing like you. I breathe air not money and power.” Peter suddenly shouted into Berkowitz’s ear piece, making him wince a bit.

"Well, it lives. I thought you had found Jesus or something and were on your way to paradise. Very well, here goes nothing.”

Berkowitz took a card from his pocket and swiped it and his screen came up. He logged onto the same channel that Peter Barlowe used to control his forces. Then he punched in his personal code and a signal was instantly sent to the pilot of the GB1. As the code streamed it found the command to find the micro-circuit lying dormant in the back of the scalp of one Captain Ray Jerrod, the pilot who was now trying to fly the First Lady and her son to safety. The subject was found and it instantly sent the command to obey Berkowitz’s command. It also registered inside the data crunching computers of Homeland Security, the Pentagon, the NSA and the CIA.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 3:57 p.m.

Pilot Captain Ray Jerrod felt Berkowitz’s commands overtake him slowly. He thought it was air sickness then it was like an instantaneous bout of the stomach flu and then just before he was sure he was going to die, he went calm and felt fine. It was the strangest feeling he had ever had.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

First Lady’s Cabin

March 11, 2012, 3:57 p.m.

“It’s OK honey, we’re OK now,” Margaret told her baby, which she knew was a lie.

“Mrs. Harrison, I want to stay here with you and help, but I have to assist the pilot. Are you OK?”

“Thank you; my son is OK, so I’ll be fine.” Margaret had the greatest urge to scream out for her husband and only let it resonate in her head. Fisher, where are you? Fisher, I love you.

Over Iceland, the Atlantic Ocean

March 11, 2012 7:57 p.m.

Berkowitz spoke to the pilot. “Captain, you are a true patriot, full of everything our money could buy, and that’s a hell of a lot. The problem is, I am not, and I don’t need to be. These are your orders.”

En route to Joint Session of Congress

Washington, D.C.

March 11, 2012 4:05 p.m.

President Fisher Harrison rode in his limousine for the just over a two mile ride between 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW and 100 Constitution Ave NE. He looked out the windows and the two most prominent things he saw were throngs of people with great distress stretched across their faces waving and shouting out well wishes to their a president they trusted. He also saw throngs of soldiers as far as the eye could see. They were all there in battle fatigues and seemingly ready to fight a war or to start one. Of course they all think I ordered them out here.

Fisher saw one man in particular holding up a large sign with the map of the United States prominently displayed with drops of blood dripping down. It read, ‘Is America’s Democracy Bleeding?’Another sign showed a flag shaped into the United States with all the colors running into each other. The words across it read, ‘Why are these colors running?’

They all spoke to him and he knew these fine people loved him, but not as much as they simply needed him, and it gave Fisher great fear and trembling to imagine three hundred million Americans thrown to the dictatorial rule of whatever political charade the Consortium would raise up to hide behind.

Fisher’s motorcade continued on and stress seemed to form all over Fisher’s body, and he felt a trembling inside his arms, hands and legs. He knew it was all far too big for his feeble arms to carry. Fisher waved and didn’t know if the people outside could see him or not, but he caught a glimpse of an old man in a Air Force uniform and holding a sign that was plain and simple, but which bore words that were just like a ray of light in a dark and frozen world to Fisher Harrison. He had needed to read its message before taking on a great nemesis such as the Consortium.

“Driver, I want you to stop the car for a moment. Do you see the big plain sign behind us?”

“Yes, sir, but that against protocol.”

"I realize that, but I need you to ask him, not tell him, but ask him if the president could see him for just a moment.”

The driver radioed to one of the cars behind the president’s to talk with the man. A moment later, a Secret Service agent was standing by the president’s door with the older gentleman. Fisher lowered the window and looked at the sign that told him how to proceed. It gave him hope and told him God had heard his pleas. Fisher read the words. He had heard President Tate use them before. Then Fisher spoke them out loud. “Don’t be afraid to fight this war.”

Fisher looked up at the man standing by Fisher’s window and the old man saw that the president had tears in his eyes. His face had taken on a deep shade of red due to the adrenaline woven together with sorrow.

“Please forgive me for accosting you this way, but your sign touched me so much and it is a direct answer to me from God through you. We need direction, my brother.”

“Mr. President, the honor and privilege is all mine. Would you like to have it, sir? The sign I mean.”

”That’s really generous of you, but it is of much greater value right where you are. Right now, you just might be more powerful than I am, in this awful situation; and isn’t that the way it’s truly supposed to be?”

“Here, let me sign it and that means I will follow your advice, my friend.” Fisher said and placed his signature on the poster.

“I will never forget this day, Mr. President.”

“Please don’t, and remember how your simple message gave a president great resolve. What a truth and stress reliever to know someone is bigger than our feeble abilities to control the deeds and intents of evil men and women.”

Fisher put his arm out the window and shook the elderly man’s hand. “I wish I could get out and thank you appropriately, but these guys might kill me trying to protect me. I will do my best to preserve that you have worked so hard to have and to pass on to your children. Thank you for letting God employ you, sir. ‘Don’t be afraid to fight this war.’ I really love that. Pray for America.”

President Fisher Harrison had no idea how his resolve would soon be placed under maximum danger.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 4:12 p.m.

The Navigator Specialist reentered the cockpit and strapped himself in for what he knew would be a rough landing.

“Ray, did they radio you?”

“Yes, they did.”

“And … what’d they tell you?” The navigator looked out ahead and saw the well hidden runway. “Great, Captain, you did it.”

Captain Ray Jarrod looked over at his Navigation Specialist and pulled out his side arm.

Jarrod said the words exactly as he had been instructed. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

The navigator laughed “Yea Captain …” He looked at the pilot and saw his friend and comrade, Captain Jarrod’s sidearm staring back at him. “Yea I have been told that a few times. What are you doing, Captain?”

“Well, they’ll never tell you that again.” Captain Ray Jarrod squeezed the trigger and unloaded three shots into the navigator’s head. Then, his next orders flashed through his mind.

He switched on the intercom and spoke to the First lady. “Mrs. Harrison, we have the runway in sight...”



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The Most Intelligent of Idiots: The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

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The Consortium - Patriot Acts Part III - No One Is Immune!


In September 2008, The Fed and the treasury came to President George W. Bush and issued him a suicide threat like Secretary Henry Paulson walked into the Oval Office and put a gun to his own head and said, eight hundred Billion dollars or in 24 hours we die and 5 trillion dollars would disappear with the entire... world economy. President Bush said yes. What if had said NO? Take a look at


The Consortium
Patriot Acts Part III

No One Is Immune!


Chapter Twenty Six

The European Union

March 13, 2011 5:56 a.m. G.M.T.

The European Union was now a complete misnomer. In the space of mere minutes, the artificial bonds became fragmented the moment Warren Berkowitz had pressed the button and made Europe’s Children’s futures change forever. Even before this continent’s people opened their eyes for the day, a new medieval-like dark age had already descended upon the peoples that made Europe classic in its taste, its music, its lovemaking and its laissez-faire disregard for the security of the continent. Now, there would be no more four or five week holidays, because there would be no more work.

Many of the nouveau poor wouldn’t have even learned it at all until much later in the day if the sudden shaking in the windows had not started; rattling down streets in Berlin, Paris, Madrid, Rome, and in every major city of the world that had been awakened from sleep and from their false sense of security that had never really existed, by the sound of thousands of military vehicles taking control of the streets.

The caravans were so large and long that their movement down the highways, the boulevards and avenues, onto the streets where millions of eyes peered out their windows in shock and awe at the sounds of tanks and transport vehicles menacing the people who had bought and paid for it all. Europe’s world had come to an end and no one had a gun to safe their families from certain death.

Earlier in the evening, alarms blared throughout cities as automatic warning sirens ignited when bank computers told the system there had been a robbery simply because instantaneously registering and calculating that three quarters of the world’s funds were simply and utterly gone.

Yet, it was not the alarms all wailing in the night that had set the people on edge. Almost none of them even had the slightest idea that their comfort zone no longer existed. Europe, Asia and Africa had become global prisons.

Before their people even looked at or even knew that their own situation was rolling headlong over the edge, the windows had begun rattling because the sound of hundreds of large European troop transport vehicles heading down every European highway and taking up positions to enforce the Martial Law that the European continental powers had just declared.


Raven Rock (Site R)
March 12, 2011 10:57 p.m.

“We’ve got incoming.” One of the escorting chopper pilots shouted. “We’re coming in tight and we’re hovering over motorcade One.” The four black hawks came in close and formed an overhead shield over President Harrison’s convoy, as best they could.

“Site R munitions. We’ve got a hot big boggie headed our way. You gotta get something in the air; whatever you got, you need to get it up and ready to blow the bank man away.” Hamilton said with urgency in his voice.

“Copy that. Sir, we want that as bad as you do, but nothing’s ready to launch, and it’s at least all thirty years old. What is the condition of Law and Order?”

“I’m ready to inflict some pain, but seems we don’t have much pain to give.” Fisher said into the radio.

“Mr. President, we are readying the doors and unafraid to fight this war. It is an honor.”

“You give me courage, Major. Take us in.”

“Set a heading of 020 and follow your waypoint once you enter the tunnels to our lovely mountainous cavern home” The Major shouted over Hamilton’s radio. Then he felt a trembling at first in his hands then it ran all over his body and he lost complete voluntary control of all his faculties. He was under control.


“Presidential rescue one entering caverns. We are switching to alternate fuel.”

When the convoy had fully entered the tunnels, the four choppers veered off in four different directions and sat hovering for distance measurements and precise hits with thirty year old munitions.

“Sir, we got an incoming and no way to hit them.” The chopper pilot reported.

“We need your waypoints into the base and are crossing into tunnel F1.”

“Mr. President, you would have been a splendid head of state, except that I’m going to kill you.”

“Who the hell is this?” Hamilton shouted. “Where’s my waypoint to Site R., dam it.” Hamilton shouted again.

“It’s Berkowitz.” Peter said lowly, but everyone heard him and understood.”

“Did you lead them here, Barlowe?” Hamilton asked sharply.

“You both know as well as I do, that the Major at the base is the link to bring this incoming beast that wants to devour us.” Fisher said. “It could be a nuke. So, we’re on our own again gentlemen, but has it not been this way?

“So, we stick together and take this Major down, but remember he’s chipped and it is all innocent blood being compelled to kill against his own will. If he tries to kill us, even appears to want to do so, then take him down, but I would like to save him, to take him down, not take him out.” Everyone agreed.

Peter took out a blackberry and hit some preprogrammed buttons. “He’s got a bomb!” Hamilton shouted.

“Mr. Vice President, you’re a little jumpy, don’t you think?” Peter said respectfully. “I understand it’s hard to trust me, just now, but you will. I’ll make sure of it. So, let’s start here.”

Hamilton looked at Peter and his face softened. “OK, I’m gonna roll the dice here and my gut says yes; so, carry on.”

Peter clicked on the link and a list of two hundred Army and Air Force bases around the world appeared on the Blackberry’s screen. Peter clicked on Brookfield and clicked again on the link that read, ‘Brookfield Launch, match altitude and go boom.’

He had set up some quite elaborate defenses at Brookfield base. He had already known that he’d never work beside Berkowitz. They would kill each other, which Peter was pretty sure was going to happen anyway. Peter clicked on the link and the earth moved in four different locations where Peter had set up his surface to air missile batteries.

Sliding doors were activated and opened across the surface of the Earth and four launch vehicles rose up out of the ground. There were a lot of Brookfield residents still at the defunct military base at the late hour trying to get a feel for the place where history was made. They saw the four launchers with eight modern guided missiles rise up out of the ground and come to life, all of them had been purchased with Consortium money.

Peter saw a red button appear on his blackberry. He clicked on the button and the residents of Brookfield, Ohio saw four rockets leap off the launcher and into the air. Everyone shrouded their ears from the deafening sound as the rockets hurdled into the air.

“I’m gonna kill the bastard, Mr. President.” Peter shouted as Hamilton maneuvered the convoy through the tunnels.

“Peter, you do what you feel will save the most lives. We don’t agree with what you did, but the same action had crossed my mind in a day far back. Now, I believe you want to get rid of this devil and his influence, forever. So, it’s redemption time, for all of us.” Fisher replied.

Peter watched the rockets’ progress as they locked onto their targets, one by one.

Inside B1 Bomber over Site R
March 12, 2011 11:07 p.m.

“Sir, we’re making our final run and beginning our de … scent." The pilot froze for a second when he realized that four missiles had locked onto him.

“Sir, we have a situation here.”

Copenhagen, Denmark
March 13, 2011 6:12 a.m. GMT

“Hell, there are situations all over the place right about now. Tell me about yours.” Berkowitz said, ever so slightly unnerved. He looked around his office and counted ten physicians, eight armed guards and three photographers. “I’ll never feel my solitude again.” Berkowitz thought out loud. He realized that he could get rid of them any time he wanted. “I think I’ll keep’em right here.” he told anyone who listened.

Inside B1 Bomber over Site R
March 12, 2011, 11:12 p.m.

“Sir, we have four inbound bogies on a direct path to us. What do you want us do?”

Against his better judgment, Berkowitz started to laugh. “Oh my goodness, it sucks to be you right now, doesn’t it?” he laughed again. “You sound really screwed. I’ll see you in hell before too long. Then you can claw my eyes out.” Berkowitz pressed a button.

“Sir …”

Raven Rock (Site R)
March 12, 2011 11:12 p.m.

Peter punched in the coordinates for their destination. The blackberry ran the application that connected to the convoy’s current location and mapped it out on the screen.

“Left at the next tunnel.” Peter bellowed out. Hamilton saw the tunnel ahead and radioed all the vehicles following and the escorts ahead. They all made the tunnel and a light was visible up ahead.

“Everyone, stop fifty feet ahead.” Hamilton ordered. Each of the vehicles in the Presidential convoy hit their brakes and everyone piled out.

“We’re deep in inside this rock. That means the slightest noise will echo all the way to Beijing.” Fisher said. “Everyone fill your ammo and take as many weapons as you can carry and still use them.”

Hamilton took the radio off his belt and tried to hand it to President Harrison. Fisher refused. “You’re running this show, and doing it right, so I’ll let you lead, so you can die first.”

“That is mighty kind of you, Mr. President. You may have just lost my vote.”

They started fanning out when they felt a little tremor from above, so they knew it wasn’t an earthquake. Then they heard a loud blast, and it was clear to all that the plane that was trying to bring Raven Rock Mountain down on top of the Fisher and his rebels had in fact gone down.

“Great work, Peter.” Michelle Oh said with sincerity.

“Thanks, but my rockets didn’t have anything to hit, by the time they reached the target. They collided into each other, and went boom, that’s all.” Peter said.

“Berkowitz remotely blew them up. He is one heartless bastard.” Fisher said

“I knew Professor Yang really well.” Peter announced. “No one was closer to Berkowitz than he was, and Yang told me everything about this maniac. That is how I was able to use him more than he did me.” Peter looked at the walls of the mountain lair and then at all those gathered around him.

“He’s his father times ten.”

Brookfield Military Base
March 12, 2011 11:18 p.m.

The residents of Brookfield refused to return to their homes, despite the late hour. The security teams that had linked up with Hamilton to rescue the president heard it first and knew what it was. They had already seen the trail of white smoke in the air heading slightly northeast. Then the white trail of smoke became a yellow and orange flash of light overhead, and it began to rain metal fragments about six minutes later. They all ran for cover, as did the residents who had actually set up tents to camp out at the now historic site. They all ran in any direction to find a spot to shield them from the falling debris.

Raven Rock (Site R)
March 12, 2011 11:19 p.m.

“OK, the plane is down.” President Fisher Harrison told his comrades. “Let’s go rescue our Major.”

_________________________

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When Too Much Security Can Kill You!
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______________________
Steven Clark Bradley

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley
Where is Patriot Acts available?
This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.
I hope everyone who reads this will not just think
it is entertainment or the irrational rambling of a scared
American. I am not afraid; I am convinced that no one
will secure our future except us.
That is why I declare the main theme of Patriot Acts
in one key phrase:
No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!


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