HardStrike

By CW Nelson

Heavy fog broke over a Pacific coast ridge line. Blackhawk gunships flew out of the approaching wall at two hundred miles per hour. Sunlight flashed off windshields. The flight of military helicopters and hard thud of rotor blades sent a threatening message across San Francisco Bay.

Something was wrong.

 

Four tech giants seized control of the Internet and silenced millions of American citizens, politicians and even the U.S. president. They pushed subversive agendas. Rigged state and national elections. And they indoctrinated children and the naive in league with mainstream media. It was all a cover-up for the final stages of a Marxist overthrow.

 

That's what was wrong.

 

It was only the beginning—

 

–KXBZ NEWS ALERT–

 

U.S. military stormed Google, Facebook and YouTube. AntiFa and BLM gunned down in the streets… California governor shot dead. San Francisco, Portland and Seattle mayors shot dead... Hold on! Military just seized CNN, NBC and...

Broadcasts went blank nationwide/
DoD Seals filled TV screens/

 

Target 2 /// -RogueOps Deploy:

Global elitists raised the alarm and assembled a clandestine meeting in Davos, Switzerland. They must recover their power of false narratives and mass indoctrination. They must stop the veil lifting on their global agenda exposing their media operatives pushing it all. U.S. Militia were already hunting down their fifth column judges, politicians and academics. They will kill them all if they don't regain control over the most powerful nation on earth… The United States of America.

 

Target 3 /// -Davos, Switzerland:

RogueOps deploy covert military specialists cloaked as a Heliski expedition. The helicopter dropped them off on Casanna Peak towering 8,440 feet above the village of Davos. Snow fell faster. Light, dry powder. Gray and white blurs skied quiet, invisible, across the mountainside.

They skied through an avalanche. Crusted snowdrifts. Cutting winds that stripped slopes down to ice and rock. They skied 5.8 miles across the mountain and downhill 3,100 feet. The sun finally dropped behind jagged, icy peaks.

 

They stopped.

 

RogueOps dug bivouacs into snowdrifts under hundred foot tall spruce trees. They ate protein bars and drank several packets of orange juice. Five minutes later, six sniper assassins were asleep under two feet of snow on a pitch-black mountainside.

 

1430 hours

A black motorcade pulled out of the Davos Centre parking garage. Ten black limousines drove slowly down Matta Strasse. Blue and red lights on security vehicles flashed purple off eight-foot high snow banks. Pilot motorcycles lead each limo off the Strasse onto the plowed Davos golf course. Fourteen Sikorsky helicopters and 40 armed guards waited for them.

 

RogueOps dialed in their scopes.

Targets: >685 yards across the valley.

 

Target 4 ///-Washington, D.C.

In an extraordinary move; the Federal Reserve obstructs the U.S. president's second term election. Ultimatum: capitulate to their demands of global financial authority or they shut down their banks, destroy his presidency and America. In the highest act of treason in US history. The Fed levied a declaration of war against their own nation.

RogueOps task an ex-NSA mainframe computer programmer to launch digital countermeasures across the Dark Net to frustrate the Fed's plan fir economic collapse. The president declares military martial law in metro cities.

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: CW Nelson
• Release date: Aug 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393398981

CW Nelson

CW Nelson – Author Military wolves raised CW Nelson The ‘Old Man’ flew frontline paratroopers in WW2 and Korea. B-47 Stratojet nuclear bombers during the Cold War. NRO B-47s on soviet espionage missions.   Cold War Intel advisor for CIA Director MACV Aerial Recon USAF Liaison, Office of Naval Intelligence Liaison, MACV US Army Chief of Staff Director, undisclosed USAF NASA projects Colonel Nelson retired from the Pentagon Additional author resources- CW Nelson worked material logistics for several federal agencies. Criminal activity support for State, County and Local Law. An old school FBI Regional Director. Security & Intelligence Agencies. Director DHS-Services Counter Terror Group. Military personnel. US Marine Corp. Snipers. Military Sigint, which plays a large role in RogueOps TajTel operations. —Identities private  C.W. joined the US Navy. Then wrecked a 435hp SS 396 Chevelle... and his military career. He was successful in large family ranching operations and AG land development. A builder, developer. He lives with his lovely wife Vicki in Sun Valley, Idaho. Snow capped Sawtooth Mountains & pristine river valleys are home where he writes about what he loves most. The Land of the Free - Because of the Brave Thanks to all First responders, Police & Military personnel. Apologies to those that find my characters far-fetched. Excuse literary license to make a damned point.

Book preview

For Vicki

Brilliant, elegant and strong spirited. Vicki’s keen insight into the brutal truths of Marxist subversion destroying America is spot on. Her patriotism, encouragement, great plot ideas and ruthless editing keep me focused.

Vicki is the Editor and Director of Nelson & Nelson Publishing. Vicki makes RogueOps Novels possible.

Special thanks to an ex-Spook from the US Intelligence Community for his hard line tactical insight. Thanks to an old school FBI regional director and a ‘Security and Intelligence’ agent for strategic and tactical insight. Thanks to the ‘Old Man’ and his pilots that directed my life onto a blunt and powerful path. In due course, it provoked this author’s conservative newspaper commentary and RogueOps Novels.

Novels by CW Nelson

Book Zero

American Vigilante

HardStrike

Law of War

Articles by CW Nelson

Anglo-Saxon Culture Warriors

American Bolshevik Revolution

Covid-19 – WW III

Read American Vigilante.

Then HardStrike ... and then Law of War.

Although not necessary, as they are stand-alone reads. However, you will benefit greatly knowing the military background of select sniper assassins that become RogueOps. In addition to national security threats they take out and launch this epic chronicle about America under siege from hostile enemies Foreign and Domestic. America’s existence as a sovereign nation is at stake, more than ever before in U.S. history.

American Vigilante shows how RogueOps came about when Lachlan Hawke retired from US Navy SEALs special operations and took over his father’s San Diego real estate business. As a rite of passage from military to civilian life, this disciplined, deadly yet down to earth wealthy man charted a transoceanic excursion on his 114-foot sailing yacht. The brutal high seas murder of his brother, his wife and beautiful children catapulted Hawke into the civilian world of intrigue, murder, narcotics and White sex slave trafficking.

—RogueOps was born.

Legend  —  RogueOps Characters

Lachlan Hawke: Commander, IOSX TajTel Operations

Garrett McChafin: Director, TajTel Operations

TajTel  – IOSX NSA level CRAY computer system

IOSX  – Private Military Sniper Assassins

IOS  – Island of Snow, Tuamotu Islands

Inga – Maddox  //  Kristjen – Rikkar

TajTel Level - Sniper Assassin Teams

SECDEF – Griffin Dunn: Secretary of Defense

Chief Executive Officer, United States Department of Defense (DoD). SECDEF has authority over the U.S. military and is second only to the U.S. President.

DNI – Davis MacLand: Director National Intelligence

FBI – Jack Rollins: Director, Federal Bureau of Investigation

ONI – Office of Naval Intelligence

CIA – Central Intelligence Agency

NSA – National Security Agency

DoD – Department of Defense

DoE – Department of Energy Q Level Intel Clearance

NRO – National Reconnaissance Office

– Lachlan Hawke //LaK-lan

– Davis MacLand //MaK-lund

– Garrett McChafin//Mak-chAfin

1 — Blackhawks

Heavy fog broke over a Pacific coast ridgeline. Sunlight flashed off the windshields of Blackhawk gunships. They flew out of the encroaching white wall at two hundred miles per hour, forty feet above San Francisco Bay. The military formation and hard thud of rotor blades sent a threatening message.

Something was wrong.

Four tech giants had seized control of the Internet and silenced millions of conservative American citizens. They deleted social media and news access to the U.S. president. They pushed their Marxist agenda without opposition. They rigged state and national elections. All to cover up the final stages of a Marxist overthrow.

That's what was wrong—

It was only the beginning—

–KXBZ  BREAKING  NEWS  ALERT–

KXBZ just learned that U.S. military stormed Google.

They just seized Facebook, YouTube and Twitter.

AntiFa and BLM gunned down in the streets...

California governor shot dead...

San Francisco, Portland and Seattle mayors shot dead...

University professors and media gunned down...

Hold on! ... Hold on!

Military troops just seized CNN MSNBC FOX and...—

Television and computer screens went blank. The shrill sound of a pursuit siren filled living rooms nationwide. It filled Sports bars, airports and office buildings.

The screens turned dark blue with a gold white and blue DoD Seal with an American Eagle in the center.

The shrill siren faded to silence.

The piercing staccato repeated again and again until people turned the volume down.

America’s enemies were on notice.

Two Days Earlier—

Captain Hawke sat at his desk and watched the violent storm roll in. Wind whipped through trees and tore off small branches and leaves. Lightning flashed through Hawke’s bulletproof windows. Thunder rumbled and shook the building.

It was warm inside. The scent of new leather upholstery and waxed walnut furniture. Intricate models of aircraft carriers and fighter jets. Leather bound books on tall bookshelves and the aroma of his cigar charged his office with military propriety.

Davis MacLand, Director of National Intelligence closed the heavy double doors behind him and sat at the small conference table. He said nothing as he pulled three folders from his leather satchel and slid them across the table.

Hawke was forty years old. Stood six foot four. Athletic, 245 pounds. Brown hair in a pilot’s flat top and graying at the temples. There were no insignias on Hawke’s gray camouflage fatigues except for black Navy captain eagles stitched on each shoulder.

MacLand sat forward and clasped his hands. He wasn’t smiling. Captain Hawke. That folder contains logistics for South Bay Tech. Their strategic internet control centers. You must seize and secure them before they activate every kill switch they have. You have thirty minutes to deactivate the switches from the time you strike.

Hawke set his cigar in a large brass tray and spoke through a cloud of smoke. What the hell is this MacLand?

Look at it sir.

Hawke flipped through the folder. He recognized the topography map and flashed steel blue eyes at MacLand.

South Bay. You mean Silicon Valley.

MacLand glanced at Griffin Dunn. The Secretary of Defense. He nodded. Captain Hawke. The president wants you to deploy your strike teams on a covert military operation. We cannot let them get wind of this. Our Intel says they would alert every anarchist in America and start civil war with violent riots and chaos in every large city. Within minutes, sir.

MacLand continued while Hawke flipped through several aerial photographs.

"The president waits for a Go. From you, sir.

A Go for what?

An Emergency Broadcast. An order to evacuate the South Bay targets within two hours of his broadcast.

Why the hell do that, MacLand?

CIA has Intel that China plans retaliatory strikes for our BlueBeam hit on Tianjin back in 2005. And for the ongoing tariffs against their imports.

Hawke squinted. Damn it, I didn’t hear about any of this. What the hell is going on?

No sir. That’s why we requested this meeting at your office. It’s diversionary bullshit for the public, sir. A cover to evacuate the immediate area of the four tech complexes. Two miles west of Moffett Naval Air Station is the Alphabet Googleplex. Thirty miles north is Twitter. YouTube and Facebook.

Hawke relit his cigar and leaned back in his high back leather executive chair. Identical to the ones the Navy uses in fighter pilot debriefing rooms. MacLand and SecDef Dunn also leaned back. FBI Director Jack Rollins remained quiet.

Mr. Rollins. You haven’t said anything. The FBI director has no input?

No sir, Captain Hawke. This is new to me as well. I am here to observe, record the meeting and take notes. I must present a brief on this to my people on how we deal with collateral insurrection.

Hawke nodded. All right, good enough. MacLand. Mr. Dunn. Tell me why I should do this.

Yes sir. These are institutionalized indoctrination operations on a nationwide scale. If something doesn’t advance their socialist agenda, they suppress it. Their algorithms have demonetized millions of businesses that advertised on their services for years and bankrupted millions of Americans overnight. They coerce banks to cancel business accounts. If anything conflicts with their agenda, they silence it.

Hawke stood, walked to the window and watched the lightning for a minute, turned back and glanced at SecDef Dunn. Look. I’m military. My people are snipers and assassins. You know that. This makes no sense. Send in the Sheriff and some SWAT teams.

SecDef Dunn walked to the window. Captain Hawke. The owners and execs of these companies are not catholic, protestant or whatever. They are all Jewish Marxists and so are their pals that control hard copy publishing.

Yes, I am aware of that.

Shut up and listen for a minute. They already scrubbed the textbooks of our public schools and universities. They have erased our nation’s Anglo-Saxon, Nordic and Teutonic origins. Including all references to our founding fathers. How and why they established this nation. The Revolutionary War. Korea. World War 2. Vietnam. All of it, gone. They indoctrinate new age nonsense rooted in nothing and   condition people to accept it. We need to stop that before it becomes irreversible.

Hawke walked to the service bar, got a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of chocolate donuts. Help yourself gentlemen.

All right, MacLand. You’re up."

"Yes, sir. Education has little to do with teaching skills or developing personal excellence any longer. Hell, they even killed physical education classes along with other forms of competition.

Academia and media already indoctrinated the parent generation. Now these companies reinforce mediocrity and tolerance of every depravity one can imagine. Into the minds of our developing children.

MacLand flipped the page and put it face down next to the folder. Enough of that. The president will suspend Posse Comitatus for these specific targets. Or for any collateral rebellions. As for leftists in congress that scream bloody murder about this, fine. We can target them next week for th—

Hawke interrupted. Damn it. None of this answers my question. Why my RogueOps teams?

"I’m getting to that, sir. These targets are critical to their Marxist overthrow of the United States. This is not state, county or local jurisdiction. This is subversion sedition and treason against the United States.

The president wanted you. That’s why we are here. We need to seize all four operations simultaneously and to disable them within thirty minutes of first strike. And that, sir, is why the president wants you.

MacLand flipped the page.

"Now! We need to control the turnaround. We need RogueOps and USCE to take them down so we can send in our Sigint people to execute a synchronized remediation of their algorithms.

"Google, YouTube, Facebook and Twitter control millions of people’s thoughts, actions and lives. Control gives them power. They control what Western nations see, read and hear.

"I ask you, sir. What now will satisfy their absolute control over every aspect of Anglo society? They are not Lutherans, Mormons, Buddhists or any other religion. They are Jews, sir. The smallest minority and most devious people on this planet. Their rabbis, on record for over a century, declare they must exterminate the White race.

We have every reason to believe they will murder Americans as they did Russians a hundred years ago. I’m talking about the slaughter of fifty million White Christians in the 1917 Russian Bolshevik revolution.

That is why you take them out. Sir!

Davis MacLand closed the folder, leaned over and talked with SecDef Griffin Dunn and FBI director Jack Rollins. Hawke walked to the back. His team leaders stood on either side of the heavy double doors.

Inga Jorgensen stood silent. Watching. Listening.

Inga, 27 years old stood five foot eight inches. Reddish blonde brunette hair framed her face and fell just below her shoulders. A striking beauty. Bright green eyes flashed. Loose fit black BDUs did little to conceal her feminine physique and disarming charm.

Athletic. High intelligence. Proficient in the execution of military tactics. Her sex appeal was deceiving. It was deadly. It threw men off balance. For a moment. A hesitation. A mistake that killed them. Inga. The deadliest sniper assassin the U.S. ever produced. It marked her as a RogueOps team leader.

Maddox Stewart stood on the other side of the doors. Handsome in a rugged way. Six foot one with unkempt brown hair and a three-day stubble. He was 25 years old. Athletic, 210 pounds. He listened. To the changing wind. A muted sound in the hallway. Every word spoken. Intense blue eyes scanned every movement. Doors ajar, everything. Maddox. A deadly sniper assassin. A RogueOps team leader. Inga’s field partner.

Hawke finished talking with them, walked back and stabbed glares at Secretary of Defense Griffin Dunn and FBI Director Jack Rollins. Hawke blew a stream of cigar smoke and knifed a hard glare at MacLand.

You said RogueOps is involved but you kept me out of the loop. Tell me what you geniuses have in mind that might kill my people.

No one kept you out of the loop, sir. The president gave me orders to brief you and Rollins at this meeting. That’s what I am doing!

Mr. MacLand. Snap judgments in the field are one thing. Something this huge sprung on me out of the blue is a different animal. Hawke waited.

"These targets control information across the entire internet. Anarchists get Intel on where to go and what to do through control of social media. This is a critical command structure for their coup against the United States and Europe.

"Subversive academia and news media are other channels we must interdict. All of them are in conflict with Title 18 U.S. Criminal Codes. Broadcast media and social media endorse, defend and cover-up Muslim, AntiFa and BLM terrorist activity. Jewish owned media screams racist, White supremacist and KKK all day to vilify us and elevate countercultures that cannot even sustain what we built.

"The president knows their racial activity is at DefCon 2. AntiFa street thugs and BLM foot soldiers are deadly because they have no independent thought processes. They ‘think’ and perform what communist professors teach them, and do what social media orders them to do, where and when.

"The real AntiFa is subversive academia, politicians, media, judges and lawyers. The CPUSA, SPLC, ADL and other anti-American Jewish organizations finance and organize these street thugs preparing for revolution.

"Senator Joe McCarty warned us of this in the 1950s. Marxist media hounded him to death. As in dead. Since then Marxists have infiltrated congress, academia and the media.

Anyhow, congress gave Tech several chances to clean up their act. It was all political theater for the dumbed-down masses. Patriots never bought into their indoctrination schemes. That is why they have patriots, anyone conservative under constant siege. We must support them.

MacLand turned over another page. "These neoBolsheviks are .0001% of the population and seized control of America the same as they did in Russia. We recognize what they are doing because we have seen it.

Hawke raised his brows and held his arms to the side with his palms open.

Sir. You take RogueOps in. You seize the world’s most subversive communications network that far surpasses Cold War Pravda and Izvestia. We send in our computer technicians and reverse their algorithms 180 degrees on everything.

MacLand looked at his watch.

Captain Hawke. RogueOps must secure those complexes in advance of—

A loud knock banged against the heavy doors. It opened. A Navy lieutenant entered the room and walked directly to Hawke.

Hawke read a memo and signed something. The lieutenant closed his leather binder and left.

Hawke slammed his fist on his desk. That lieutenant just told me our targets have wind of this. Thirty minutes ago, city busses unloaded hundreds of armed Muslims, AntiFa, Black Panthers and BLM.

Hawke turned to the lightning streaked windows and spoke in uncharacteristic hushed tones. They heard him clearly.

Find out who leaked this and bring him to me. I want to kill him myself.

Let’s move it!

2 — Roof Tops

In all States and Conditions the true remedy of Force without Authority, is to oppose Force to it.

—John Locke

Two Blackhawk gunships hovered twenty-five feet above and behind the two main Googleplex buildings and took fire from anarchists scrambling to get clear shots. The helos turned slightly sideways. Bullets ricocheted off thick Lexan windshields as a single black dot fast-roped out the other side. One onto the roof of each building.

Copilots flipped a switch and dropped the heavy ropes. The helos moved to the other end. Six more black dots fast-roped from each helo into rooftop radio antennas, satellite dishes, air conditioners and spinning roof vents. The helos dropped six small backpacks and flew off as the teams disappeared into the shadows.

Ka-BLAM!

The sharp recoil slammed against Inga’s shoulder. Yellow and white flame flashed out the barrel. A loud crack shattered the air. The AntiFa bandit’s head exploded in a pink cloud, gray matter and chunks of bloody skull.

Inga Jorgensen squeezed off another shot. Her .338 Lapua Magnum blew the head off another tango running across the street. He tumbled and dropped in an awkward heap. Others scrambled for cover and tried to locate the shooter.

The scream of police sirens, fire trucks and ambulances closed off streets for three-blocks in every direction. Civilians scrambled out of office buildings and ran to the flashing lights and police blockades.

Inga swung her scope across doorways and building corners. She waited for someone to pop his head out and look for her. Diagonal across the street one did. Inga hit the ActionTrack switch above the trigger. The crosshairs locked on target. Ten seconds later, he leaned around the corner into the waiting crosshairs.

Inga squeezed the trigger. A 275-grain Delta-Shok hit him center mass in the chest at 2700 feet per second. A bloodstain exploded across his shirt. His heart, chunks of lung and splintered ribs blew out his back. The impact threw him three feet into the intersection.

Shots cracked from the top of another building a block away. They echoed down the street and off acres of green glass. Kristjen Eriksson blew three more AntiFa into the intersection near the others. Five tangos lay dead in pools of their own blood within twelve seconds of Inga’s first shot.

The RogueOps sniper team scanned for more targets through their M1700 ATX scopes.

Rooftop 1. This is South Bay Control.

...silence

Roof Top 1, do you copy?

Who the hell is this?

Uh, this is Lieutenant Brenna, SBC.

What's the status on our A-10s?

"Okay yeah. Seventy miles north, Travis Air Force Base is on standby for addition military assistance if needed. Moffett Field ten miles northwest has Blackhawks and A-10s.

Inga shook her head.

That’s great, lieutenant. Moffett helos just dropped us off. Where the hell have you been?

Lieutenant, we need air support to contain this. Right now, I’m on top of this building hanging my ass out 100 feet up. Five hundred yards away my partner is doing the same thing.

Okay, Jorgensen. And the situation?

Lieutenant, these fucks hold hundreds of White women hostage in this complex. They are raping and killing them while we sit here and fucking chitchat. We have to get them out.

Raping and killing?

That’s what these animals do, lieutenant!

Okay, yeah. We have a situation.

We’ve had a situation before we got here! That’s why we’re here, lieutenant.

Okay, yeah. Right.

Inga shook her head again and looked at the sky. Find the closest USCE detachment and get back to me before more of these savages get here.

Roger that.

"Get Moffett on the line. I need two A-10s and two Blackhawks ready in ten minutes.

Get with Captain Hawke. Tell him to send NRO imaging to my SatPhone when these tangos arrived. I need to know how many we’re dealing with.

Copy all, Jorgensen. Anything else?

Inga looked over the rooftop perimeter wall. Ten tangos rushed across the compound toward Kristjen’s vantage point. Inga keyed her mic.

Kristjen! Tangos moving toward your position.

Right. Ten went before them and five before that.

That’s twenty five. We killed five.

"I told the lieutenant we need NRO SatLink imaging on how many tangos we have at this complex.

Roger that.

Inga dialed her scope and put the crosshairs on another anarchist. Her lips twisted in a cooked grin. He was black. A Muslim fuck ...BLM.

He might have sensed her looking at him. He looked up. Straight at her. Did he see her? Inga didn’t know and didn’t care.

She squeezed the trigger.

3 — Intercept

Garrett McChafin issued all RogueOps teams his latest technology rifles from TajTel Machine Works. With computerized optics integrated with trigger systems, a sniper could cover multiple targets and multiply the kill rate.

Inga and Kristjen shot M1700 ATX .338 Lapua Magnum rifles for distance, aerodynamic efficiency and stopping power. They had a 1200-yard target lock on anything moving up to 20 miles per hour. They also carried a 14.5-inch barrel M500ATX in 7.62mm for close quarters combat. Maximum range, 150-yard target lock.

Kristjen! How do you want to do this?

Take the ten you watched run across and the three behind that big sculpture of... whatever the hell it is. I have the tangos by the main entrance. They’re spreading out. Let’s contain this.

Right. They hunkered down for ground fire. Doesn’t matter. I have target lock. Give me a signal.

Kristjen pulled the rifle into her shoulder, scanned her targets and stopped on the last one."

Ka-BLAM! ...Ka-Blam! Ka-BLAM!

...Ka-Blam! Ka-BLAM!

Yellow flame flashed out as they swept their scopes from right to left. They touched their triggers as the crosshairs acquired each tango. The 275-grain Delta-Shok bullets exploded on impact. Ripped through flesh and bone and blew six-inch holes out the other side. They swept across the killing field and shot anyone they missed or wounded. This was as red flag, no quarter battle. No survivors. No prisoners.

Inga swept her scope across the tangled carnage. Runners ducked and ran across the street toward the main building. She acquired a target and touched the trigger. He crumpled and fell headfirst into a cement tree planter.

Kristjen shot another one. A Muslim. His kufi skullcap disappeared in a spray of blood. A third shot blew his stomach open in a splatter of intestines.

An anarchist held the main doors open and yelled. The other two ran. Inga pulled her trigger on the doorman. His head exploded. He crumpled and collapsed across the threshold. The automatic doors closed, bumped against him and kept opening and closing. A third and fourth runner jumped over their dead comrade.

Inga squeezed the trigger. The 275-grain magnum round ripped through the AntiFa mushroomed to a half inch and tore through the BLM in front of him. They slid face down across white marble in a smear of red.

Someone spotted them through the windows and ran outside. He pointed at the roofs and screamed. There they are! There they are! He shot wild and emptied a 30-round magazine. Automatic rifle fire blew chunks of cement off the rooftop perimeter walls.

4 — AntiFa Slaughter

Maddox and Rikkar blew the elevator engine rooms and cleared the top floor. Their teams had seen massacres before, but nothing like this. Radical CAIR Muslims herded AntiFa to the top floor and chopped off their heads, feet and arms. Some they crucified on walls, spikes driven through their foreheads and slashed from throat to groin. Streams of blood ran across the floor.

CAIR, the Council on American-Islamic Relations, is a terrorist front organization that drives radical Islamic Sharia Law in America. Death to all infidels. That mean all White Christians

Shooting outside stopped.

Inga! ...Inga, copy.

Yeah, go ahead Maddox.

Got a situation here.

That’s what the lieutenant at Control said.

"Yeah, well, fuck the lieutenant. We are dealing with some sick people here. Muslims, Black Panthers and BLM all said they would ‘kill whitey.’ Wipe us off the planet.

AntiFa fools thought these savages were comrades there to help them take America down. The niggers used them to take control of this building and then slaughtered them.

Less for us...at least here.

Roger that. Fuck ‘em. Listen up. We cleared the third floor. No one alive. Just slaughtered White folks in the offices. No tangos. They must be on the lower floors. Right now, we need a report on how many took over this complex.

I’m waiting for NRO imaging. Remember, Maddox. From the minute you blew the elevators they’ve known you were coming.

Right. We have four emergency staircases. Two front and two rear. We have them covered.

Inga looked over the rail at the blood splattered grounds and dead tangos. No movement except cops three blocks in every direction preparing for USCE.

Maddox, talk to me. I am not your boss. I’m a sniper and Intel ops. This is your bailiwick.

We take our time and sweep for traps, bombs, anything. None of us does any fucking hero shit.

Inga heard gunshots over her headset.

5 — Betrayed

Rooftop 1, this is Control.

Rooftop 1, this is Control.

Jorgensen, go ahead.

Okay. Here it is. NRO imaging shows they arrived on two city tour buses. They got out and rushed through the front doors. The buses took off.

...silence

How many, lieutenant?

Okay, yeah. Fifty-five on each bus, at four locations so that is, uh— 450 bandits.

That’s 110 of the bastards right here. What about my A-10s and Blackhawks?

Okay. Moffett Naval Air Station can deploy within two minutes on your call. The same Blackhawks and pilots that dropped you on the roofs. Two A-10 Thunderbolts ready on the tarmac.

Thanks lieutenant.

Inga clicked off and pressed her headset.

Maddox!

...nothing

Maddox!

Go ahead.

Thirty-one and your eleven makes 42 dead. NRO says 110 went in. That leaves sixty-eight. Their cannon fodders out front are dead. That leaves the bad asses.

...silence

Maddox. Talk to me.

...nothing

Maddox!

I got it. Sixty-eight. Now shut up, Inga. We’re setting explosives on the second floor stairwells. I’ll copy back.

Inga looked at the display on her SatPhone. Nothing from McChafin. She hit autodial. It buzzed twice.

McChafin sat at a TajTel terminal in the ControlCenter. Twenty miles from Moorea on Hawke’s island. He recognized the ring, let out a stream of pipe smoke and flipped a switch in his desk.

Inga. What do you need?

Yeah, well, we’re doing fine. Thanks for asking.

McChafin squinted and looked out his windows at gulls playing on the tropical breeze.

Inga, what do you need?

Login to the computers in that building. The bottom floor lobby.

McChafin ran quick fingers over his keyboard.

...silence

McChafin! You there?

Yes, damn it. I have the trunk line. Need the grid array.

...rapid key clicks

Now the proximity interlinks.

...silence

Inga. I’m in.

Link me to their computer cameras.

Inga pulled one of McChafin’s 9-inch TajTel laptops out of her tactical bag and set it on top of an air conditioner unit. Locate the women hostages and send the live feeds to my ATX.

Inga scanned the grounds. No movement except nervous civilians held behind the police blockades and flashing red and blue lights three blocks away.

Maddox, talk to me damn it.

We set charges on all four stair wells. We’re going to blow the rear wells and collapse them completely. We’ll use the front wells for access the lobby.

Inga heard boots ring on the metal steps.

A door pushed open.

...silence

Oh Jesus. Son of a bitch!

Inga shouted into her mic. Talk to me. What the hell is going on?

They’re fucking dead. All of them.

"Damn it Maddox. Who is