|Six months before. . . . .
Not far from Thunder Basin in Wyoming construction workers were putting the final touches on a compound. What they had built so far really did not look like a compound, but that was what the bosses called it, so it was good enough for the workers.
Off of Wyoming 50 there was an unmarked but plowed and graveled dirt road. It was large enough for heavy equipment and the roadbed was constructed for the use of heavy trucks. The road, after a distance of about a mile, lead to a chain link fence that was 15 feet high and a guard shack had been built. Once passing the guard shack, the construction workers drove an additional thousand feet and then came to a very high slump block wall. The only break in this structure was a single entrance portal. This entrance was about twenty-five feet wide and was large enough to admit heavy trucks and portable buildings.
The construction crews were finishing up, but what had they created? There was a slump stone guard shack, a really great road, a fenced compound that was by usual government standards quite small, and inside this compound there was nothing. The soil had been conditioned to prevent weed growth and there were simply some concrete pads with hook-ups for utilities. There was not even a gate on the slump block portal.
As the last of the crews were going over the place and surveying for left-over tools, an olive drab Humvee arrived with four men in military fatigues.
The men who had built this weird place had no idea what it was for.
In the California desert near Danby, crews of workers were also finishing up a similar compound. This one was much larger then the first one. With a major military installation not far away, there were guards arriving as the construction crews were pulling out.
This same exact scenario was repeated in three more places across the country. Outside contractors had built all of the facilities, but were only told that these were being built for the government.
Six days after the last construction workers left the sites, huge military type trucks were on the road towing the military version of a series of mobile buildings. The trucks and the buildings were not well marked, and the comedy was the deliberate effort at being inconspicuous was almost in and of itself shining a spotlight on the whole thing.
If anyone looked, and had bothered to investigate, there were some other strange things. The positioning of all but the Wyoming station were near military installations. All but the Wyoming station were in "no-fly" zones, which permitted "fly over" of military aircraft only.
Within days, another kind of construction worker came on to each installation. These were all dressed in fatigues and were under government authority. Electronic surveillance was installed, electrically controlled gates were installed and established at each compound entrance portal, and finally a series of mobile home like structures were brought on to each site.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Present time, back in Washington D. C.
Dave here is the paperwork requiring your signature.
Where is the President's signature?
A special armed courier will bring that to you within the hour.
Frank, I will not sign this until I see the President's signature. You can have the whole thing as soon as I have what I need to see.
Fifty minutes later paperwork arrived at Dave's office with the courier. The courier unlocked the briefcase from his wrist and opened it. The armed courier was a large man and he said:
Sorry Sir, I need to see your ID.
The man then spoke a special encoded phrase that was used to verify security clearance
Dave recited his return codes and the exchange and signatures took place.
Dave then handed the man the signed papers and an additional envelope also bearing a security clearance marking.
These go back to Frank.
Yes, sir. . . . . . .
Within five minutes the courier was out of the office with a bundle of papers going from one office to another.
One hour later a telephone call took place.
One statement was made.
This is Lassiter, We have a GO!
Jimmy and his friend Taylor had been the new guys on the Junior Varsity Baseball team. This was their first season, and for them it had not gone well. The trip over to Throckmorton County to play the the Eagle Point High School Coyotes had been a humiliating defeat. The Varsity team had won, but only by the slimmest of margins. The defeat for the Junior Varisty team had been beyond humiliating. The Coach was mad stating that the "Juniors" had played baseball like a bunch of pansies and that he was ashamed of them. The Coaches had taken their own cars. The teams and the student team managers were riding on a School Bus heading eastbound on a stretch of very rural desolate north Texas highway. The 30 or so students there were an assortment. All were male, all were active in sports.
In the distance Jimmy could see the lights of what looked like a police "roadblock". As the bus slowed to a halt the rear glass was shattered by a chemical bomb of some sort, and the last thing Jimmy remembered before blacking out was the bus being boarded by some men in gas masks.
The headlines in the "Lubbock Herald" the next day read. "Thirty students of Danforth Quayle High School Killed in Firey Bus Crash"
The article went on to say: Parents and students are reeling at the news of a bus crash on Texas Highway 287 involving a School District Bus. The district bus apparently lost it's brakes and was unable to negotiate a turn in the highway rolling over and bursting into flames before anyone was able to escape. Also killed was School Bus Driver Louis Ingram 55 of Chillicothe.
In another newspaper many miles away.
The Junior Varsity and Varsity Basketball Team of Everglades High School was tragically killed when a rain soaked highway caused 49 year old Bus Driver Max Devereaux to lose control of the vehicle. The bus plunged off the road next to Highway 41 and burst into flame upon impact. There were no survivors.
This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.
Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.
Archive Version 070326