Trust Me: A Blueprint for Revolution

By David Gleason

Inspired by the inevitable Red state versus Blue state revolution in America, the heads of the new Russian controlled oil cartel, with China’s urging and blessing, approach the only American business man they truly trust. The Oil Producing Economic Alliance (OPEA), through Ryan Carlson, presents a too-good-to-be-true offer to the emerging Red State American republic. Continuing on from where his last book The Fraternity: Alaskan and Russian Roulette left off, C. David adroitly inserts the heroes into an unsettling story predicting our near future. Combining his knowledge of the American and Russian oil patch with the street savvy of his military intelligence cohort, Stan Williams, Ryan once again convinces Stan to join forces with his must trusted Russian friend, ex-KGB Colonel Alexander Romanoff. Their goal is to strike a deal with the OPEA to help stem the rapidly declining American influence in world politics and economics, restoring America’s status of the twentieth century, based on equal partnership with China and Russia. It is clear that Gleason has enough familiarity with the Russian political scene to bring authenticity to his novels. His knowledge of the works of our original founding fathers and the original intent of the United Nations charter re-establish this authentic connection in Trust Me: A Blueprint for Revolution. It is another highly entertaining read!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publication Consultants
• Release date: Feb 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781594331305

David Gleason

A long term dual roll of Communications expert and dedicated student of history has given C. David Gleason the opportunity to study and observe first hand, not only the rapidly changing history of his beloved America, but also a unique insight that allows him to compare the striking similarities between turn of the last century Russia and turn of this century America. Upon retiring from the communications field in 2001, Gleason began to intensify his historical research and dedicate himself to writing. The result has been two biographies, Why Russia: A Nostalgic Old World Adventure and Why Alaska: Life on the Last Frontier, co-authored with his long time wife, DeAnn. His latest books have been novels. The Fraternity: Alaskan and Russian Roulette, a mystery who-done-it and Trust Me: A Blueprint for Revolution, an unsettling prediction of the emerging world of today, realistically entwine fast paced, high tech crime fiction with some of the past and present history of Alaska, America, and Russia.

Book preview

Lit

Chapter One

How It All Began

IT ALL BEGAN NEARLY seven years ago, early in the fall of 2008. Stan, look closely at the demure middle-aged lady wearing a press badge, standing just to the right of the CNN reporter. Doesn't she look familiar to you? Ryan Carlson asked his companion, Stan Williams, as they stood in the Anchorage FBI headquarters staring transfixed at a television broadcast.

Can't say … I take it you recognize her.

I'd swear she is Stasha's wife, Svetlana, from Baikal.

My God, you're right! It is her. What would she be doing there? Stan had been in continuous contact with one of the security agents assigned to the outgoing president during his final Rose Garden speech, assuring the Saudi Oil Cartel America was to remain the Saudis best customer.

My guess is she's up to no good!

Are you sure of that? Stan demanded.

Do we really care? Ryan shrugged.

Davidson, Stan blared over the cell phone. The women to the right of the CNN reporter, take her out now!

You can't be serious!

Dead serious, Stan screamed. Damn it all, do it now!

As Stan and Ryan watched the screen in wide-eyed anticipation, the demure little woman started upright and then slowly folded and fell limply to the ground. She was hurriedly dragged from the scene by two burly men. The entire scenario was so swiftly carried out that most people in the audience barely noticed.

Now tell me what this is all about, Mister. George Stanton, Stan's immediate supervisor was now on the other end of the conversation.

If I'm right, all of you had only a few more minutes to live. Get that woman far from the area and keep her on ice until Stan and I get there to question her. Her name is Svetlana Machinko. Search her completely. She has a lethal companion with her in the form of a miniscule radio transmitter. Somewhere in the Rose Garden is a petri dish filled with bionic germs. Attached to the dish is a small receiving device rigged to shatter the dish and release its contents. Are you following all this? Stan pleaded.

You are talking about the same bionic germ containers we removed all over the country, per your instructions, right?

Right on! Stan gave a sigh of relief. We missed this one.

I'll have you fill me in later on how you finally tumbled onto this. Right now we are going to be busy as hell! The line went dead.

Guess all we can do now is watch and pray, Stan shrugged at Ryan as he found a chair to flop into.

I do not believe this. During all the years I spent in Russia, I met only two very sweet young ladies I loved and trusted like my own daughters. One gave her life to save millions of American and Russian people. The other turns out to be some sort of Mata Hari. And now, the uninformed voters, with this last election, have promised to flush what is left of this great country down the drain. Why are guys like Stan Williams and me still hanging in there? To save what? Ryan's mind was spinning.

Nearly two hours dragged by before Stan's cell phone vibrated. Williams here. Stan jumped to his feet. You found it. Great! Thanks for letting us know. I'll be on the next plane to headquarters … Denver … why Denver? Uh huh … see you there, sir. Bring who? That may be a problem … I understand. What about Machinko? She did what? I understand, sir.

Stan flipped the cell phone cover closed and turned to Ryan. We need to talk, partner.

What happened with Svetlana? And don't ‘partner’ me! I thought I made it clear that after we finished this bionic germ Easter egg hunt I was through playing James Bond Junior.

Svetlana Machinco swallowed some sort of pill and committed suicide.

Ryan felt a twinge of regret. Years ago he had enjoyed many pleasant hours visiting with Svetlana and Stasha Machinco at their lodge on Beautiful Lake Baikal. He had known Stasha was involved with terrorist elements but never really suspected Svetlana until he saw her in the Rose Garden.

"Your country, our country, is about to face a crisis so horrible it will make our little bionic germ escapade look like an innocent Easter egg hunt. We … I … need your help. You're the only SOB on the face of this earth I completely trust." Stan interrupted his thoughts of regret.

Excuse me while I blow my nose and brush the tears away. Spare me the crap. Just why should I be dumb enough to fall for this sob story?

I'll keep it simple. Would you rather die with your boots on or off?

In Denver?

Maybe, or maybe not. Stan flopped down in the nearest chair. "You can't say no. Sorry."

That sounds like a threat, Stan.

Stan only shrugged.

Can my wife come with me?

They insist.

"Then it is a threat!"

Another shrug.

Can I get a clue as to what we are into?

Later, okay?

As they were driven to Anna's condo by some nameless FBI agent, Ryan's mind once again drifted back over the last few years, his relationship with Stan Williams, and the drastic changes in his beloved country.

Has this all been some sort of weird nightmare? Beginning with finding my little Russian daughter, Lydia, horribly murdered, my life has been fast-forwarding through a chase with Stan in an attempt to catch Lydia's killer. Along the way we discovered her killer was behind a ring smuggling killer bionic germs into America. Before today's discovery in the Rose Garden, my part was supposed to be concluded. The media-created red versus blue states has forced people like Stan Williams and me to take sides. Are we on the right or wrong side? Is there truly a right or wrong side?

"Do you guys ever keep your word?" Ryan's mind jumped back to reality.

"You seem to forget, you are now one of us guys. You're now as much a part of Military Intelligence as I am."

I resign, okay?

Sorry, resignation declined.

They stopped at the condo driveway. Ryan jumped out while Stan remained behind to talk to the driver. Finally satisfied, he joined Ryan.

Anna did not appear to be anywhere near as upset by this new turn of events as Ryan expected, or hoped.

When are we supposed to be in Denver? She asked Stan.

What time is it? Stan laughed nervously.

Can't we even pack?

Bring what is needed for a week or so. Everything else will be packed and shipped.

Packed and shipped? Is this to be a permanent move? She now showed some doubt.

Trust me, I'm doing you a favor. Please don't fight it.

Anna and Ryan began to pack while Stan contacted Elmendorf Air Force Base Flight Command.

Two hours later, the three were met at the Elmendorf gate and escorted to a waiting troop transport. They were accompanied by several combat-ready air force and marine troops on a direct flight to Peterson AFB, in Colorado Springs. They would be temporarily housed at the base civilian visitor quarters.

For three days Stan and Ryan were escorted from secret meeting to secret meeting. They met with military commanders, senators and representatives from several of the media-dubbed ‘red states’, and local heads of several intelligence agencies.

Why are we two little nobodies being given all this attention and information? Ryan ventured to ask George Stanton at a lunch break.

You just answered your own question, Ryan. You two are completely unknown in this country's intelligence circle. All of your action has taken place in one little known-operation in mostly unknown areas. This gives you a unique freedom of action in this country.

"There must be other unknown agents around who would qualify."

Unknown, maybe, but not tested and proven, or as familiar with the Russian scene as you guys are. You can't refuse this mission! Stanton leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

But we are both over fifty.

That's all the better. Who would expect two old geezers like you to be playing undercover kid games?

Chapter Two

Why It Continued

RYAN AND STAN SPENT most of the following year reestablishing Russian connections.

President Bernard Samuel Oberman, nicknamed BS by his close friends, of whom he had few, had just put the final touches to an executive order forbidding the last two remaining American industrial giants, General Motors and AT&T, to move their headquarters outside the media-dubbed American Blue State Territory.

He leaned back in his oval office chair, feeling quite proud of himself as he planted his heels on the desk over the presidential seal. At forty seven, his tight grasp of the power associated with the office showed no sign of ending. President for Life, he uttered through his wooden smile.

Aided by his predecessor's bumbling attempt to placate the Saudis in the middle of the highest gasoline prices throughout history, and through skillful engineering of media and entertainment industry smear campaigns during the 2008 election, Oberman had managed to pull off what most political experts called an impossible upset.

After taking office he had badgered the narrowly held blue state majority in the House and Senate into repealing the silly two term presidential limit. His very first executive order mandated mail-in or Internet only voting in all federal elections, with the president being selected by the popular vote of the people rather than relying on the outdated electoral college. In his mind, this now assured his President-for-Life status.

Playing up the Florida fiasco in the 2000 election and the countrywide demonstrations (carefully staged by the Blue-controlled media) during the 2008 presidential election had made it an easy matter to implement his notorious Voting Reform Act.

Frustration caused by repeated attempts to stop Oberman's nationalization of all major corporation and banking institutions had brought on the defection of sixty Red State senators and over two hundred House representatives to Denver, where they were attempting to set up an illegal Red puppet state, as the Blue-controlled media reported it. The final blows to the Red states had been Oberman's IRS assault on the small businesses that still provided the majority of jobs in the country, his assault against the returning veterans by his new head of the Homeland Security czar, and his open support of non-secret-ballot labor union elections.

The Homeland Security (HMLS) assault against disgruntled veterans was intensified by the successful Mosul March. This brilliant military rescue was covertly engineered by Oberman's own Joint Chiefs in league with Kurdistan and Turkey.

Oberman, through his UN ambassador, had tried in vain to use UN threats and international law to stop a uniquely combined Kurd/Turkish massive blitzkrieg style invasion of Iraq. The American UN ambassador was actually booed and shouted down by a coalition of Russian controlled Oil Producing Economic Alliance (OPEA) Christian nations.

The goal of the Mosul March invasion was to form a corridor by which the Oberman administration's abandoned and bedraggled American forces could make an orderly retreat from Iraq to Turkey. Hundreds of El Qaeda support troops were killed in this magnificent Kurd/Turkish maneuver.

The invasion was negatively squealed about by nearly every worldwide news agency.

To Oberman, all this laughable defection by the red states was merely a minor irritation. After all, he and the twenty blue states, under his direct command, controlled most of the remaining major industries, the major financial institutions, much of the military complex, and well over half the American population. Let them play their little games. He was the master. What were they going to do, declare war on the blues? Impossible! His latest executive order requiring registration of all guns and ammunition would certainly stop that possibility.

In Oberman's mind, last week's passing of his new Home and Family Assistance bill outlawing all homeschooling and corporal punishment by parents was already proving to be another example of his genius. His Blue Shirt Youth Corps, headquartered at Harvard University on the east coast and Berkley on the west coast, was rapidly expanding with children seized from homes that violated these new edicts. The children were being abducted by the newly expanded and heavily armed gang of ATF goons now assigned to Homeland Security. Soon to be added was seizure of children from families refusing to register guns and ammunition.

Rumblings of the possibility of the five Midwest blue states, led by Illinois governor Jed Adventure, withdrawing from the union and asking for annexation to Canada bothered him a little. A subtle boycott of the Midwest blue state products by the surrounding reds, coupled with a seeming lack of interest in their economic plight by the powerful east and west coast blue states, had forced these isolated Midwest blue states to seek other suppliers for raw materials and other markets for sale of their products. Close kinship with Canada had provided sources of raw material and access to Canadian ports for illegal foreign trade. Neither their plight nor a solution for it was within the grasp of Oberman's limited intellect. Several of the leading industries in that area had been quietly sneaking their operations across the border. Need to start cuttin’ those boys down to size, he festered. Better get my press secretary working on that. An executive order outlawing travel by state governors to foreign countries would be a good place to start. He immediately began drafting the new edict, chuckling through his clenched teeth.

Sternham, get in here, he bellowed at the intercom to his trusty and loyal lackey.

Vice-President H. W. Sternham, a former Blue-controlled-media propagandist, every bit as eager for absolute power as Oberman, had eagerly accepted the offer of the vice-presidency during the 2008 campaign. He had always admired Oberman's skillful manipulation of the populace through the media and entertainment hype on global warming, combined with supposed racial prejudices and hatred of senior citizens and labor unions of the red state leaders. Sternham worshipped Oberman, considering him his mentor even though the man was almost twenty years his junior. Oberman came as close to trusting Sternham as anyone, but only close. Oberman realized a man in his position could really trust no one.

Give this to Cutie and have her blast it over the Federal News Network.

On Monday morning, Whitehouse press secretary, Katy Cutie announced over the FNN, Due to increasing requirements to insure the personal safety of our trusted elected officials, a new law requiring presidential approval for travel by any individual state official to foreign countries will take effect immediately. This is merely a precautionary measure designed to protect the people's loyal state governing bodies from endangerment.

Cutie's announcement came as a body blow to Jed Adventure. After an hour of ranting and pounding on his office desk, he arranged a conference