Revolt: the book

In 1996-1997, while working as a veteran detective on an anti-crime task force in my police department I wrote articles for the American Enterprise Institute magazine in Washington.  During the same time I wrote a draft manuscript in which the plot consisted of a single question.  “What if?”  What if the President of the United States was a sleeper agent for the Soviet Union?   What if the Soviet Union, no longer communist, was unaware or worse didn’t want him to activate?  What if the President decided this was the time to take the country over and remold it into his vision of what America should be?  And what if the citizens of the United States had become conditioned not to care?

The plot of the book centers on a small isolated town in Idaho.  Farmers and ranchers, all honest hardworking men and women begin to make a stand against a government gone out of control.  But unknown to them, they are playing into a trap long planned by a small group of men in Washington D.C. and Moscow.   Assisted by two veteran police officers, the townspeople begin to resist the increasingly violent assaults against their town.  The book is packed with action with events taking place across the world; from the secret archives of the KGB, to behind closed doors of the White House, to battles in the remote mountains of Idaho. The hero of the book is a veteran detective from Florida, who years earlier encountered another government operation gone wrong.  That case cost him his wife, and changed him forever.

Twelve years later, in 2008, the financial bubble finally burst causing trillions of dollars to be lost; people panicked, savings were destroyed and companies teetered on extinction.   The government quickly stepped in and for the first time in history began to control large segments of the economy directly, with plans to take over more.  Like many of the fifty nine million people who voted for less government in the last election, I found myself unsure of our future.   I began to wonder if the question was no longer “What if?” but now simply, “when.”  Many, many citizens have an unconscious fear haunting them; they feel something has gone horribly wrong with their nation.  The book addresses those fears.  I believe that millions of Americans will find the book exciting and full of hope as it reminds us that we are, after all, different than the rest of the world, we are Americans.

The college boy also agreed.  ”Yeah, all we should have left when this first started.  I would have been home by now.  This isn’t my fight.  These guys are all nuts.  The government isn’t out to get them.”  Again the two longhaired, mid-aged, hippies nodded in agreement.

The column slowly came around a rocky point.  The college kid’s young eyes were first to pick out the low flying helicopters approaching out of the sun.  ”Hey, look here comes the Calvary now.”  The businessman instructed the kid to stop.  They got out and waved to the helicopters which now had slowed to a hover several hundred yards away.  The businessman straightened his green polo shirt and tan pants; it always paid to look good when dealing with unknown competition.  Then he held up his hands and pointed to the white flags in the cars.  Others were getting out of their stopped vehicles and were starting to wave.

Seminko leaned over the pilot and looked through the windshield.  He could see the ten or so cars parked in the middle of the road.  There were figures waving and pointing to the limp white rags.  Fools.  Stupid, weak fools.  Seminko knew what he had to do.  He punched the button on his throat mike and gave the instructions to both helicopters.

The college boy watched as the two helicopters banked away from each other and began to fly towards them.  At three hundred yards he saw the nose of the ships dip down.  The boy realized they weren’t going to land.  At one hundred and fifty yards the first burst from the thirty caliber mini-gun mounted under the wings of the first chopper raked the car and hit the businessman squarely in the head blowing brain matter all over the front of the car.  The one old hippie yelped and went down, blood soaking through his genuine earth friendly tan hemp shirt. The other one, stoned by now, stood looking at his fallen friend and said, “Hey man, that isn’t very cool at all.”