Our War

Our War

©2020 Richard Maverick

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

print ISBN: 978-1-09833-202-0

ebook ISBN: 978-1-09833-203-7

Dedicated to my children,

may you never know the reality of my nightmares.

Contents

Thoughts from the author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Thoughts from the author

After September 11, 2001, I believed a war in this country was an extreme possibility. I thought it would most likely be the result of a mass coordinated terrorist attack, unlike anything we had seen yet. I immediately packed what would be the first of my go bags and began talking to others to see if I was the only one out there who felt the way that I did.

As the years passed, I still try my best to remain prepared in the event of such a tragic event. As my understanding of what a go bag should consist of based on my individual needs, my bag changed.

My belief in war has not changed; what has changed, however, is what I believe will be the ultimate cause for such horror in my lifetime. It has become more apparent to me now that the war this country is facing will not be caused by Islamic extremism, we will most likely cause it, we the people, and our hatred for each other will be what destroys this great nation.

There is a massive political divide, being pushed by those who wish to have absolute power over We The People. In 2008 I was told by old rich white people that if I did not vote for their candidate for president, then I was a racist. During his first four years in office, the other side stood by and played the it wasn’t me game, blaming everything that could go wrong on failed policies instead of trying anything to fix them. Then I was told if I did not vote for him again, I was still racist. Still, the other side played the it wasn’t me game, and yet they did nothing but complain about what was being done with no resolution to fix it.

In 2016 I was informed by the same old rich white people from before that if I did not vote for the old rich white woman, not only was I racist, but I was also Islamophobic, homophobic, sexist, and deplorable. I do believe strongly in the power of suggestion; you tell someone something long enough; they and those around them may very well start to believe it. How many from the side of name-calling are under the belief at this very moment? How many people who never had a racist bone in their bodies now believe they are racist? How many people are now fighting an enemy they didn’t know they had until they heard the rhetoric they have been force-fed because people are not getting their absolute power? Politics at this time have become a form of hate, in my opinion, a reason to be violent and disrespectful to our fellow countrymen and women.

We live in a nation now where so-called adults scream at children for wearing hats that support the current sitting United States president. Politicians call for the harassment of anyone who supports the president, including his staff. Celebrities that depict the death of our president and some who tell us, maybe this country needs another civil war.

I wonder if those so-called celebrities and politicians believe the men and women they pay to protect them will still be protecting them while we ordinary folk fight a war? Do they think that they are so important those people will let their families die to keep them safe from harm? I can assure you that those men and women do not get paid enough to sit by and let their families die. Meanwhile, the other side sits and continues to play the it wasn’t me game, doing nothing at all to help the president, we the people voted into office, not a perfect man, but the right man for the job.

I think what we need now is to VOTE away all our career politicians, start fresh, red, or blue it does not matter. If they have been in office longer than one or two terms, vote them gone. Take away their power and their platform that they are using to divide this great nation. Vote against your party if that’s what it takes to get some fresh faces, new ideas, and real change for We the People.

I wonder if the career politicians would still have such a powerful voice to call you racist if they lost their jobs. Would they still call for the harassment of others? Would people still be ok with it if they did? If they did, then you can guess what their goal was all along. I recall learning in high school about a man in 1930’s Germany who pushed the same kind of division against his people, while others in Germany stood by and let him do it.

What else could we as a country do to combat this hate epidemic? How about having a conversation with someone you would not usually talk to? If you hear your neighbor shooting in his back yard, why not ask them why they own a gun? If your neighbor is a single mother with no job, why not ask her why she doesn’t work? Take the time to try and understand their point of view; do not push yours, listen to theirs. Have a civil conversation about your differences; if you simply can’t do that, then talk about something else, anything else. Talk about sports, the weather, your families, anything else that will keep you from dividing yourselves more. Find a reason to be friends with someone you know on a political level you know you will disagree with. If we can do that, we will beat the agenda set forth by our elected leaders. We can overcome hate and intolerance.

Make no mistake about it. We are on a scale that I do believe is tipping closer and closer to a war that NO ONE wants. I am not afraid to fight; I am, however, fearful of my children growing up in a war-torn nation. War in this country will be the end of us; once it starts, there will be no end. There are no less than a half dozen other countries that would love to see this great nation at war with itself, fighting with each other while they slip in the back door with ill intent. For the sake of our children, we must come back together before we destroy their future and the future of this great nation.

The story you are about to read is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

How far from reality this story remains will be left entirely up to WE THE PEOPLE!!!!

Chapter 1

July 4, when the so-called activists decided to start their protests, as they called them, claiming that the celebrated holiday was somehow racist. Riots erupted in several major cities. Buildings burned, attacks were made on law enforcement, and some small explosions occurred throughout the day. Unfortunately, however, things didn’t end when the sunset. Chaos continued throughout the week, keeping everyone on edge.

It was the following Saturday, the day of our Cattlemen’s Ball; Dad asked me to run to our warehouse in Goldbeach to pick up a bunch of products that we had packed that week for shipping. I hopped into my car, making the thirty-minute drive. I had just turned onto Central Avenue when three blocks ahead of me, town hall exploded. I quickly pulled off on a side street and kept on my path to our warehouse; only now, I was hauling ass. I pulled into the parking lot fast and jumped out of the car without even turning off the engine. I popped the trunk; as quickly as I exited, I grabbed the go-bag and weapons bag, making my way inside as quickly as possible, locking the door behind me.

Inside my primary weapons bag was my helmet, battle belt, and plate carrier; throwing that gear on quickly, I then started stuffing pouches with shotshell cards and pistol magazines. Grabbing my shotgun, I made my way around the building, setting perimeter alarms on all the windows and doors; it was going to be a long day waiting out the possibilities before nightfall. I got my handheld radio out and started checking to see who from my team was around.

This is Six-Eight Awfully hot for this time of year. I say again this is Six-Eight Awfully hot for this time of year, over.

Nothing but static came back at me. Either the team was out of range, or they were already at the primary location.

I looked down at my watch; it was only 4:00 pm. Four lousy hours had gone by. I had heard gunfire and several smaller explosions in the time I’d been hunkered down. Pacing back and forth between the hallways, avoiding the windows, trying my best to stay calm and quiet so I could hear if any glass was breaking, it occurred to me I needed something to relax my mind. I dug into my go bag and pulled out a small travel humidor, cracked it open, and pulled out a cigar. I sat against a wall, cut my cigar, then lit it. How soothing that sweet smell was at that moment. My heart rate began to slow, and my mind stopped racing. Finally, something more than chaos, finally some transparent thought process.

I went into one of our old shipping rooms, where we still had some tables set up and dug out my maps. I started marking where I thought roughly the bulk of the gunfire and explosions came from. My best bet seemed to be making my way down Route 5. Unfortunately, that would also put me in the god damn open for much longer than I really cared to be. Making my way into the bathroom to top off my canteens, I noticed a Hispanic male, from the window, looking around the outside, and then he waved over his buddies. I pulled my shotgun into my shoulder, keeping it ready, heart rate starting to increase. At the distance I was from him, the red dot on my gun covered most of his face. Just then, he said, Ok, guys, we’re clear. and off they went in my car.

I dropped back, breathing heavy and shaking a little thankful I didn’t have to pull the trigger as it would have brought more than just him and his couple friends down on me. Then I would have been royally screwed. I realized that if they decided to check things out more, they were sure to come before darkness finally settled; it’s time to get out of here, I told myself. I topped off my canteens, did a fast gear check making sure all ammo pouches were full, and medkit secured on my belt and gave a quick final lube to both my primary and secondary weapons.

Checking the windows on the Route 5 side of the building, I noticed most people had drawn their curtains so that no one could see in, hoping to be left alone. I cracked the door ever so lightly, trying to see what might be in my way right off the bat, hugging the wall watching both in front of me, and continually checking my six to be sure that no one was behind me. I managed to make my way down to a building I always thought was a firehouse. It turns out it was just another one of those social clubs where you had to be a member to drink. The place was closed. I picked the lock, got in, and shut the door quickly behind me. I was honestly no more than one hundred yards from the warehouse, but maybe no one would bother me there, at least for an hour or two. Then perhaps I could get a better plan.

Knowing Route 5 was going to suck, it was still my best possible route to get the hell out of town, but darkness must be on my side for this to work. With all the explosions, some small arms fire, and sirens still in the not too far distance, I decided to get out my squirrel pistol. It’s a 22-long rifle caliber pistol with a mini red dot sight I had at that time used for backpacking and camping to shoot small animals to cook while out. Making sure the optic was on, I shot out streetlights one at a time in between other loud noises hoping that no one would notice the sound of such a small-caliber pistol. Distance not so much in my favor with this gun. I was able to shoot out three on each side of the street. Let’s hope darkness falls soon so I can get closer to home.

Cars had been flying by for hours. Trying to get out of the city, and the sun was finally going down. Time check said it was quarter after nine, time to move my ass. Cracking the front door, checking as far as I can see with minimal exposure. I was trying to see if there was anyone on Route 5 that was going to be an immediate threat. Looked clear enough to make it to the next building for cover. Cars were still passing trying to get out. I had to be careful that they didn’t light me up and give away where I was at to people that were on the streets. Moving from one building to the next for cover, I was finally on the corner of central avenue. Two streetlights up, EMS and first responders were still working on getting out the wounded and dead, law enforcement was busy securing the scene trying to keep the already very pissed off local personnel out of the way. The gunfire was still the sound of the night but didn’t seem to be in the immediate blast zone. Even where I was hunkered down, I could smell burnt flesh and smoke as it filled the air.

It was time to keep my fat ass moving, one building to the next, slowly, staying out of sight as best as I could. The sound of gunfire was fainter; however, I knew there would be more the closer I got to the next town. I ran up behind the Moose Club, watching for any sign of trouble. Cars were still speeding by trying to get away from the city, but no one seemed to notice me kneeled tight on the corner of the building. I finally dashed across the street to the tree line. Working my way around an abandoned hotel then past the old folk’s home, I was finally better concealed and ready for a break. I got far enough into the woods that you probably couldn’t have seen me, but I could still see the road as it was going to be my guide home. About a hundred yards away was a house, so I moved up along the side, one hundred yards past it before cutting across the back of it, one hundred yards across the back then back down the opposite side. It seems like a lot of unneeded movement; however, it makes sense if you’re trying to avoid conflict with people that are merely scared and will probably shoot at anything that moves.

I kept on moving, and every time I saw a house in the distance, I’d take preventive measures to avoid detection just like before. I was moving at a steady pace, not running by any means but more of a brisk careful walk, making sure as to where my feet were landing so I wouldn’t trip and get hurt or worse, letting someone know where I was. The moon, though only half was showing, was very bright, and the sky was clear, giving just enough light to navigate successfully with minimal noise. It had now been several hours since the initial explosion that rocked the city, and I was still very much on the move, headed home. I finally came to an abandoned house on Route 5 that was a predetermined checkpoint and resting spot I had selected. Keeping my distance from the house, however, due to the fact it sat right off the road and I really didn’t want to be in there when someone else stopped because they had the same idea. I sat against a tree and started relaxing a bit,