Behind the Scenes—Political Fiction

Frank Armitage sat at a booth sipping his morning coffee. He looked up as someone new entered the diner. The man approached and asked, "Frank?"

Armitage wore a red plaid shirt, lightweight tan jacket, stained from years of use. The stranger wore a dark brown, soft leather jacket and brown plaid shirt. By the cut, styling and newness of what he wore, Armitage knew the man was rich. Or at least that was the aura he presented.

Motioning with his open hand toward the facing seat, he said, "Please." He chuckled softly. "So, you're—John Smith."

The stranger merely smiled. "My associate was pleased. The meeting he had with you impressed him enough for this recommendation."

Armitage nodded. "Good. Glad to hear it."

"Like my associate said before, Mr. Armitage, several of us in the movement support your efforts, but have far too much at stake to support the movement openly. We want to do our part for liberty and justice. We appreciate your discretion and influence within the movement." Mr. Smith slid a piece of paper across the table toward Armitage. On it were a long string of numbers, a pass code and the name of a bank in the Cayman Islands. "Here is the information you need to retrieve the million dollars."

"What if I need more?"

Mr. Smith's expression did not change, but his eyes drilled with an icy coldness that made Armitage wince. Finally, Smith said, "You won't."

"Yes, yes. This should cover expenses and leave enough for me. I have three candidates for the little action I discussed with your—uh, associate."

"For sovereign citizens everywhere, we thank you," said Smith.

Armitage shook his head. "Please, don't you think 'sovereign citizen' is a bit of an oxymoron? We seek truth and justice. We're justice seekers. We're no longer citizens of this tyranny."

Smith pursed his lips and nodded, "Yes, I see. Very well, then." He rose, shook hands with Armitage, and then left.

Frank Armitage watched the man leave and took another sip of his coffee. He shook his head, grinning. Then he nodded and looked out the window at the sunlight filtering through storm clouds, reflecting harshly on the wet pavement from a recent shower. "A million dollars," he whispered softly.

Mr. Smith paid the taxi driver and looked up at the skyscraper. Overhead, the sky shone a deep blue, sunlight gleaming on metal and glass. The flight back to New York had seemed longer than usual. He was glad to be out of the Midwest and back where things were really happening.

Inside, he made his way up to the 33^rd floor and into the sole occupant of the floor—the corporation for which he worked. As the receptionist looked up, he asked, "Is he in?"

She smiled. "He's expecting you."

Operations Director, Philip Filbert greeted the traveler. "Andy, good to see you. Good trip?"

"Everything went well, sir. Armitage has the money and we're pretty sure we know which three prospects he has in mind."

"Excellent," said Filbert. "The two backup plans are in motion. Whichever one occurs first, we'll move in to stop the other two. We don't want to overdo it. An anonymous tip to authorities should tidy things up. Okay, take care of the debrief. I'll talk to you afterward."

As Mr. Smith left, Filbert called for his car. Minutes later, he met his contact in another skyscraper nearby.

The contact let Filbert know that Mr. R. would be pleased.

Later that afternoon, the contact found himself at 420 Fifth Avenue to talk to the very same Mr. R.

"Sir, Fabian Group 33 is in motion. Within the year, likely this coming spring."

"Good. With the World Trade Center bombing, we should have enough. The legislation draft has already been completed. We merely need the right stick to make the carrot more appealing. And now, we need to plan our next operation—turn up the heat, so to speak. In another five or six years, we should be over the hump and ready for the home stretch."

"Iraq?"

Mr. R's expression became more stern. "That's all for now."

The man left, knowing that his place in the coming order of things was secure. He knew that the world could be a cruel place and that civilization and its infrastructure were hanging by the barest of threads. With the plans already set in motion, there would never again be room for war once the order was established. The stability of civilization would be assured.

Frank Armitage sat at the counter this morning. The diner had begun to thin out from the breakfast crowd. He had planned to spend all morning if necessary. Here, they played the radio and he knew that sometime before lunch it would happen.

He picked slowly at his mid-morning breakfast and read the local newspaper. Several times the waitress hovered nearby with a pot of fresh coffee. Each time he nodded to freshen up his cup.

Then it happened.

Armitage motioned to the waitress. "Miss, could you turn up the radio a bit?" The tone of concern in his voice was genuine. He wanted to make certain it was about his boy—the young man who had become the trigger to his gun.

"At 9:02 this morning, Oklahoma City experienced its most horrific tragedy. A massive bomb has destroyed most of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City. We don't know yet how many casualties there have been, but our reporter on the scene tells us that the damage is extensive...."

Frank Armitage found himself smiling, but quickly pursed his lips. He made certain that the waitress had not seen his joy. He couldn't be too careful. Now though, his job was done and most of the million dollars was his to spend however he wanted. That was certainly something worth smiling about.

With all the coffee he had been drinking, he needed to go to the men's room. He left his half-finished breakfast. On his return, he would no longer need to pick at it. He had the news he wanted.

Across the diner, another man was reading a newspaper. He watched Armitage round the corner toward the men's room. Then he got up, pulled out a twenty dollar bill and approached the counter where Armitage had been sitting. He looked at the nearby waitress and said, "Oh miss, thanks for the coffee, but I realized that I'm running late." He handed her the twenty. "Please keep the change."

As she took the bill, he maneuvered his newspaper over Frank Armitage's coffee cup for a moment. Underneath, a small white pill found its way into the hot beverage. It dissolved quickly. A moment later, the man was gone.

Outside, the man sat in his car half a block away. It took only twenty minutes for paramedics to arrive. The way the body was fully draped, he knew his job was done.

Never had he been told why Armitage needed to be taken out. He knew only that it needed to be done quietly and with the lowest profile possible. Whoever would pay him half a million dollars to quiet someone else, would not want him to know too much. And he didn't want to know.

If Ron Paul had become President in 2012

One candidate had the integrity to save America from the bankers. If you don't think bankers are a threat, then ask yourself why we seem to be accelerating toward far greater public debt. Who benefits? Certainly not America. We're being bankrupted by the very banks we bailed out in 2008.

Ron Paul would have brought back fiscal sanity and the Constitution before it was too late. Your children and your grandchildren would have thanked you. No personal taxes, lean government, no wars, strong and elite military for protection, only. These are some of the things that would've made America great, again.

Campaign for Liberty

The above is fiction, certainly. But what follows is the frightening truth. Over two hundred years ago, a small band of patriots did what was right and stood up to tyranny. Again, we're being threatened with tyranny and this time it's wrapped in a slicker, more sinister package.

You really do want to know what is going on behind the scenes. You really must see the following video. Your future is at stake. If you don't have 95 minutes right now, bookmark this page or the video on YouTube and come back to it, soon.

Don't let the normalcy bias which gripped German Jews in 1936 trap you into doing nothing. You won't like the accommodations in store for you. We need a peaceful revolution, but it requires your action.