Here is the prologue which hopefully will whet your appetite for more. If you've fought past peaceful battles over land matters, I think you'll find this book interesting. It is fiction, and although the places are real, the story and the characters are not but if they bear any resemblance to anyone living or dead it is not by design. The book's main purpose to provide an entertaining book while reminding readers of the ever present need to be vigilant in protecting our land. Here's the prologue from the book which will be available on Amazon Kindle soon. It will be available first during a short and discounted pre-publication rate before going on line shortly thereafter. I'll keep you posted on the schedule and link.
It was oppressively hot, humid and miserable for those out in the woods in eastern Alachua County, Florida in September 2033. The late summer brought two tropical storms ashore in the third and fourth weeks of August, dropping over ten inches of rain in their wake. It wasn’t a time when anyone wanted to be out in the elements, yet a large band of patriotic citizens had no choice. They were awaiting an expected siege by armed government agents and possibly worse in the days ahead after an ongoing dispute over their land which began six months earlier.
The hearty men and women in position were battling the swamp at its worst. The rains had brought out nature in full force, with huge swarms of hungry mosquitoes, snakes of both harmless and poisonous, vicious fire ants, spiders and other insects as well as rodents small and large seeking higher ground. And with these creatures even came a few gators seeking an easy meal in the muck. Yet these brave men and women carved out and held their positions so that no one could surprise them.
They were the major line of defense, facing the point most likely to face assault due to the frontage being close to a divided north-south highway, US Highway 301. But many more of them were in frontal positions covering the rest of the entire perimeter, totaling fifteen by four miles, with the secondary positions important to insure no surprise assaults came unnoticed from any direction. The towns of Windsor and Cross Creek were within the perimeter boundaries while both Lochloosa and Hawthorne were to the east and Gainesville was beyond the far shoreline of Newnans Lake to the west. Checkpoints were established on all roadways running east and west through the area, requiring approval by armed personnel to enter. This effectively blocked use of another divided highway, State Route 20 by government vehicles.
Most of the men saw prior service in the military, many in combat, but now were farmers, accountants, merchants, bankers, truckers, mechanics, a minister or two, a doctor, several nurses and even a few full-time retirees. And there were a number of Annie Oakley types in the crowd, plus church women who volunteered to prepare some special meals to give a break from military rations while others served as couriers between groups, delivering supplies and personal hygiene items. In all there were at least three hundred local area residents plus volunteers from other Florida localities involved in the effort and a significant additional number from other states who recognized the danger of the threat eventually to them as well at some point. It was about the right to land ownership and the government was seeking to destroy it.
Members of the group holding the lines, organized under the name Citizens Protecting Our Land, were determined to maintain control over their property in the area and had decades old experience with development projects which would have ultimately made it impossible to hold on to their property. But they had never before experienced a threat like this one, a threat prompted by the current President’s thus far unannounced plans to subordinate his country to the whims of the New World Order (NWO). But they did know that they would not accept an illegal development rule change in the local region which took authority away from local authorities and gave it to a regional board with independent authority. And as local citizens became aware that the drivers of this action were both state and government agencies who were behind these actions, they vowed to fight it by whatever means necessary.
A retired Marine, John Argyle, was the local leader of the group. He and his father, Angus, uncovered the situation almost by mistake, but now they were joined by this band of brothers and sisters to create a force of citizens to fight for what was legally theirs in accordance with the Law of the Land, the Constitution. All of them understood the risks and dangers, all carried weapons and were qualified in their use and all were now gathered together throughout their rural area awaiting the next action steps against them. They were blessed by the active support of a patriotic group, the Military Patriots of America (MPA), with chapters in a number of eastern states and growing and with influence on friends in high places, something that would serve their cause well. But at this stage of the game they were anxious. If they must fight, they wanted to get it under way and over with so they could return to their normal lives. Yet the situation was one where most felt what they knew as normal might be gone forever and because of this they felt they had nothing to lose, for without freedom and national sovereignty they had nothing.
On this early morning on a soon-to-be hot September day, Argyle was positioned on one of the defensive lines at the center of the long eastern flank, constantly walking the line he covered, encouraging his armed team members and looking for flaws in placement of positions and equipment. He was also in contact by radio with the other line segments who were each led by combat veterans or others knowledgeable of the terrain and well qualified with weapons, all of whom were supported by MPA advisors. Standing with John was one of those MPA patriots, Rob Richards, who was there to lend support and to fill in for him whenever he needed to leave the line or for rest.
John’s tasks were far reaching as he quickly assessed information received from the entire force and insured that supporting forces were handling supplies and managing inventory for distribution. He also maintained contact with those local civilian officials, like the County Sheriff and the Planning Director, who were sympathetic to his cause and tracked the administrative side of happenings by both the state and federal government. The former active duty Marine had excellent contact with a large newspaper, the Jacksonville Times-Union and was joined by an excellent reporter on site, a modern-day Ernie Pyle, a young woman with courage and a willingness to take risk to tell the story of what was unfolding. And the senior MPA leader, its National Director, maintained informational contact with Pentagon uniformed and civilian leaders who understood their cause.
John also had the unenviable task of making all decisions about the delivery and positioning of supplies at the major logistics point at McMaster’s farm with a secondary site at his logistics point adjacent to his family home. In addition to weapons, ammo, food, water, temporary holding camps for manpower and other supporting logistics items, a motor pool was maintained for a wide variety of vehicles loaned to the patriots in support of their cause. There were transport trucks, a fuel truck, SUVs, jeeps and swamp buggies, all retrofitted as well as possible to meet the challenge.
This was the third consecutive day of full alert and emergency manning of the lines and it followed several incursions attempts the day prior, primarily designed to test their strength, identify potential weak spots and prepare for the major assault expected this day. The sky was turning from black to gray as dawn would be coming and John was approached by MPA member, Rob Richards, suggesting that he take a break before the fight was joined.
“John, you’ve been up all night, even twenty minutes would do you good,” he said, “and I’m here and will let you know the moment anything looks anywhere close to breaking. Lean back on your poncho pack and shut your eyes for a few minutes, I’m making all the final checks for you right now.”
John finally agreed, closing his eyes as he thought about all that happened in the past six months and how it came to this. As he dozed off, he relived the recent past. He was floating through time as if he was above the fray, surrounded by serenity and quiet as if looking through a window showing how he got here.
But while his memory of events locally that began the struggle were clear, there was so much more that John did not know. The President, Edward Lee, who was only sworn in for his second term in the past January, was embarking on a course of action which was creating the need for this action he was leading and the road ahead would become so much more difficult. Powerful forces in Washington and on the international stage were determined to take from America what she had struggled so hard to attain many generations ago. Will John’s patriotic group succeed or will the push for tyranny win?
The story begins.
(C) Copyright James Dick, 2017