The Demonstrative Citizen: The Revelation of Two Dragons

By David Maier

Be prepared for a rapidly changing world that forces many to undertake the fight of their lives. You will see a return to faith and citizenship that must be demonstrated on virtually every level. The principal character, David Werner, becomes a pivotal resistance leader named Bear. Forced to relive the events of the war before a Senate hearing, we learn of how what were once unthinkable events led up to the conflict, how the resistance was born, how it evolved, and the slow and deliberate rise of its elusive leader known as Two Dragons.

In this story, the main character, along with many others in the world, watches as the country and world they once knew devolve on virtually every level. Like so many, they attempt to navigate the rapidly changing political environment, holding on to the illusion that everything will eventually work itself out. Despite their best efforts, the world erupts into a global conflict that reaches America's shores.

In the course of this war, the characters find that the enemy within their nation may be even more dangerous than their external foes. Through the uncontainable events of his new life, Bear must reconcile how the tenets of a great society became so broken. He and all those who struggle with him must learn to care for each other as they discover the truth that lies within each of them. With the illusions of their former lives stripped away, people are forced to make a choice, thereby considering how each of them will express their choices through their actions. From these individual choices, we see the rise of the great American militia and a return to our founder's ideals. Once again, a people must learn to boldly walk the journey of faith and demonstrative citizenship.

This is not the tale of lost hope or global collapse. Instead, it is a story of the return to faith, hope, and true liberty. Nonetheless, the path they must travel is fraught with danger and conflict. Early on in the story, the reader will assume what this story is about, only to find themselves pulled in a new direction. Here our characters begin to find a new and greater purpose, and the reader begins to evolve with our intrepid group of unlikely worriers. Throughout their struggle, you will walk with them, cry with them, laugh with them, and ultimately, you may ask, "Who am I?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638605409

Book preview

Title Page

Copyright © 2021 David Maier

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books, Inc.

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2021

ISBN 978-1-63860-539-3 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63860-540-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1: A Time to Reflect

Chapter 2: And So It Begins

Chapter 3: The Resistance Begins

Chapter 4: A Way Forward

Chapter 5: Better than Gold

Chapter 6: Don’t Tread on Me

Chapter 7: The Time Has Come

Chapter 8: The Rise of Two Dragons

Chapter 9: A Battle of Wills

Chapter 10: The Tide Turns

Chapter 11: Hard Truths

Chapter 12: What We See

Chapter 13: Insurrection

Chapter 14: A Beginning to the End

Chapter 15: So Mote It Be

PREFACE

This is a story that has been told throughout time, by many different peoples. We remember their stories, by how these civilizations lived and perished, the choices they made, and the values they endeared.

In this story, there is one great difference. This story takes place in our time and considers many of the choices that have been laid at our feet. For in our time, like many who have come before us, our choices have the potential to shape the destiny of our world. We are once again caught in a great divide, where many pressures have fostered a reconsideration of how we can, or should, proceed. We must consider where these pressures have come from, what makes them important, and the consequences of our actions.

To this end, what we see in the mirror should cause us to take stock in ourselves. Lest we blame the mirror, which is the ultimate expression of vanity. While this is a story of what may be, or could be, we should not dismiss the very real consequences of our passions. Considering what we have gained as opposed to what we may surrender. For as is true with each individual, so it is true of a great society, To whom much is given, much is expected.

Finally, I will leave you with this warning. Beware of those who would dismiss this tale and proclaim its impossibilities. Beware of those who tell you these things cannot happen here or today. Remember that while the participants and the particulars may change, this tale has already happened, it has happened here, and it could happen again tomorrow.

INTRODUCTION

This is a fictional story, which takes place in our world and in our times. The use of certain institutions, historical references, or landmarks provides context for the reader. Nevertheless, the circumstances and application of these contextual references is fictitious. The story is not intended to reflect on any person, institution, or group. Any such correlation is unintended and not relevant to the story. Rather, within the story, the fictitious characters and events should force us to take a pause and search our own souls.

The story is set in an emerging global conflict, which reaches, in part, to our shores. The roots of this conflict are as old as time itself. On the surface, we see a world conflicted over how we should be governed. A debate that is rooted in how to best deal with the many challenges that face our world. When in reality, greed, power, and vanity fuel betrayal and blind ambition. Division and fear are the tools of those who are driven by the hollow rewards of such ambition. For this is not the ambition of goals, growth, and self-improvement. Rather, it is the ambition of the true original sin, perpetuated by Satan when he attempted to overthrow the kingdom of heaven. The pursuit of power, often through anarchy, is an ideal that Satan has whispered in the ear of people since the dawn of time. Bringing about our fall and thereby setting all of humanity upon our perilous journey.

Much to this point, we must consider the many attributes of citizenship in a free and open society. Citizenship within a constitutional republic was always intended to be demonstrative in nature. Each of us a titleholder to our society and government. Herein, we must be passionate, expressive, and responsible toward our stake in society. Within the construct of democracy within a republic lies an inherent sense of duty to our rights and the institutions to which these rights are entrusted. In keeping, there is an inherent sense of responsibility toward the liberties of one another. When the ideals of advanced and active citizenship shed these responsibilities, we open the door to the authoritarian and the tyrant.

When the boundaries of a free society are shed in the name of advanced citizenship, democracy is replaced with anarchy. When active citizenship becomes singular in its view and absolute in its virtue, liberty becomes an illusion. In this, we find the great lie of the authoritarian, which is that only government can change the hearts of its people. When in truth, the government has almost always served to harden our hearts. Only through faith as part of the demonstrative exercise of citizenship, within a free society, can we open our own hearts. Through faith, we find the ability to set boundaries upon our passions. Thereby opening our hearts and minds to the consequences of our actions or inaction.

Demonstrative citizenship is embodied in the patriot. Symbolized through each of our choices and actions, toward both government and each other. What good are the ideals and virtues of a great society if they are not openly practiced throughout our life’s work? The demonstration of both our faith and liberties is at the heart of citizenship within a free society. Here we find the application of a robust, or expanded, sense of free will, which is a cornerstone to our faith. Empowering each of us to not only enter into a relationship with the Almighty but to practice that faith openly. Demonstrative citizenship is not the path of the ideolog or the theorist. Rather, it is how we live our lives through the choices we make within a free society.

The principal character, often inspired by those around him, is forced to consider how he came to this place in time; in the fight against those who have attacked their homes and institutions. They must consider what they are really fighting for, as opposed to what and whom they are really fighting against. How did the great tenets of a free society, which united all free people, become lost and divided in a world which appeared to have lost its way? In this we find not only the journey of citizenship but the journey of faith. A journey that is fraught with harsh realities and many deceptions. Only through this journey may we rediscover who we are and how we are bound together as one people.

Through the tribulations that have beseeched our world, many have found themselves abandoned by the practitioners of their faith and the leaders of their government, stripped of the illusions of their former lives, and forced to consider the contrast of who they were and what they now must do. These individuals, over time, find true faith and freedom as they learn to care for each other. In their struggle, they inevitably return to the fundamentals of our founders. Often facing the ideological misuse of power, many find themselves at odds with those they once supported. Through these tribulations, each of us must consider the basis of who we are and what each of us stands for.

It is for this reason we must consider our choices through our own realm in time. Far too often, the tenets of our faith and the values of our society are nurtured in an illusion. An idyllic view of life in which we learn to conform in the name of happiness and security. Here, in this illusion, the truth can be far more threatening to our lives than the deception on which our illusions are built. The journey of faith and citizenship was always meant to be walked boldly. For when we deny the truth, which is in both our hearts and our view, we allow ourselves to be deceived into submission, placing a price or a movable threshold upon our convictions.

This was not the path of our founding fathers nor that of the prophets and apostles of any faith. When we boldly embrace the journey of faith and demonstrative citizenship, the truth is often borne out before us. When through prayer, reflection, and consensus, we find a common purpose with those around us. We proceed with that purpose and are reborn in our views. But beware, for here the blindly ambitious will try to deceive you with half-truths and false promises, thereby enabling you to make false choices in the name of security, equity, and entitlement, enabling society to move from its founding ideals to a new ideology.

In this story, as is often the case in life, many of life’s illusions are shattered by unconscionable circumstances. Many struggled to hold on to the illusion in which they live. Still, many others cast off the false choices being laid before them. To this end, those in our story sought strength and guidance in their faith. And in doing so, they found the truth that lied within them. This is the story of our unlikely and intrepid characters.

CHAPTER 1

A Time to Reflect

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

—Holy Bible, Ecclesiastes 3:1 (RSV)

It had been several years since my last involvement in the great conflict. The fall air was cool, but the sun remained warm; the leaves were falling from the trees and are deep in color. The chairs had been put away for the winter in the outside dining patio of the local restaurant. Another summer had passed, and soon, winter would have its way for another season. When I get to town, I enjoy walking in public through the local shopping plaza. I feel a bit lost, out of place, and despite many acquaintances very much alone. Still, it is good to be alive and in the fresh air with very few worries. It is in the nature of this season to reflect on our lives and how we came to this place in time.

While I prefer my home outside of the city, I still make a point to come to town once or twice a week. On the surface, so much has returned to relative normalcy. Yet when I look into the faces of people, I can see that most still struggle, each in their own way, with what they did, what they didn’t do, and what the conflict revealed in each of us. Nonetheless, whenever conversations turn to those days, everyone is a patriot, each with their own story of sacrifice and contribution to the inevitable victory. But we all know that is not true. As is often the case, some fled, some survived by any means, far too many were complicit, but most turned in the face of their attackers, refusing to yield. Lies and manipulation, politics and ideology, division and partisanship, can only go so far to overturn society. Ultimately, liberty dies through force, and we were slated to be no different.

But the time had come to heal as individuals and as a nation, reaffirm values questioned and find a new way forward as people of a global community. For me, it was not really over. I had lost so much, the life I had worked for was gone, my wife and son had started over without me, and even my name was gone. Virtually everyone whom I had known presumed I was dead or missing. Many of us had chosen to discard our identities and assume aliases. This left us anonymous, ghosts, without any linkage to our former friends and family. During the conflict nicknames, or handles if you will, became our new identities; after the conflict, most of us took up new names. For my part, I resorted to my paternal grandmother’s maiden name as a surname. I took my maternal grandfather’s first name: Michael, Michael Stein. Due to the loss of a great number of records and some confusion, concoctions such as this became common but, for the most part, untraceable.

For my part, I had a unique and unparalleled insight into the conflict. A witness to history and a participant in the resistance movement. The truth from those days can be a painful and an elusive thing. Yet there are remnants of our leadership that hold the answers to many of the questions intentionally left unanswered, stored for another time. Presently, most people have little desire to critically look at the weeks, months, and years that led to the conflict. This would not include our latest group of political leaders who spend endless days routing out those who participated in the attack on our society. A somewhat futile and hypocritical analysis that was more about political posturing than truth.

While I respectfully disagree with some of Plato’s views relating to democracy and a republic, there can be little doubt toward what Plato’s view of the modern career politician would be. Like a weed, they sprung up once the hostilities had settled. Their roots lying underground waiting for the moment to grow in the garden, which is our government. A garden that had been reestablished for a new season. Still, it was refreshing to see many good men and women, who did suffer and sacrifice so much, become part of the political process. Through them, there is hope, for they bring mutual respect that can only be earned through shared hardship. Men and women who can differ in their vision of how to proceed on any given topic. But know that they are bound in a common belief in the values that brought them through the conflict; thereby, empowering them to participate in their country’s future. Between these peoples, ideas can be debated, but their integrity and patriotism could never be questioned. Never again should we allow such people to fade away from our leadership to the domination of the career politician.

Nonetheless, the career politician was only one factor in the attack upon our society and its institutions. Ultimately, many forces were utilized in the assault upon our liberties, culminating into an ideological fervor, which blinded its followers to all reason and morality. Nothing was improper or illegal in the defense or the implementation of this ideological storm.

But for now, such things are for a new generation to consider. I certainly was not getting any younger and had other things to ponder. For instance, should I eat lunch before or after going to the market? Obviously, the answer was before since my autopilot had guided my feet to my dependable bar and grill. For my part, it was time for a tall, cold beer and a bite to eat. Having the luxury of available food is profound when you have gone hungry for a time. I don’t know why pub doors are always so damn heavy; it would appear to be a bad business model to me. I had to smirk despite myself. I was once a corporate accountant. I guess some things are always baked into our persona. The bartender only needed a nod to start pouring my beer. Such things as beer and bar food would have once been a terrible violation of my doctor’s concerns toward my A1C. Funny how things change—no one seemed to be concerned about my health these days. In fairness, I did shed weight and regained a lot of muscle tone. I guess fighting for your life will do that. I suppose it is hard to get worked up about your health when others are trying to kill you. Raising my icy cold beer glass, I quietly told myself, Salute to my A1C, whatever and wherever it may be.

As I worked my way through my burger and beer, I tried to take in the noise of several televisions. Suddenly one took my interest. While I try to avoid Senate hearings, this one excerpt caught my attention. Two men and a woman were being questioned about their activities during the conflict. The fundamental line of inquiry was to determine if their actions had provided aid to the enemy and what their ties had been to that enemy. I knew them all from my time in the conflict. The three being questioned had taken great risks and had been fierce supporters of our cause. While each had worked with our common enemy, in truth, they had been informants, spies for the resistance. What concerned me was how they were outed?

This was a serious matter; while there had been a pardon for all potential crimes relating to the conflict and the event leading up to the resistance movement, there was no pardon given for those who had made a willful effort to give aid and comfort to the enemy. Many had been forced to provide support to the enemy under duress, which was a clear defense. The intent of the questioning appeared to frame these three as traitors. Treason held a high penalty; many still held great anger and had little empathy for those found guilty. I supposed that this was the result of an edict that came down from the leadership of the resistance movement. To be honest, I was not sure that this was the intent of that edict when it was given.

More to the point, I believed this inquiry was ultimately designed to gain information regarding the resistance movement and many of its leaders. It was clear to me that the intent was to trade immunity for testimony from the three individuals under inquiry for insight into our leadership. An effort that had yielded no fruit to date.

The ride home seemed longer than usual. My loyal companion, a German shepherd collie mix named Buster, knew that things were not right. Once settled into our country house, Buster took his evening playtime outside. The air was cold as I stood on the porch waiting. The lights from a distant village shown through the darkness. Breathing deeply, I considered the possibilities of each action and counter action. Weighing it all, we retired inside and warmed ourselves by the wood stove. I picked up my phone and made a call that I had long avoided. A young lady answered, Good evening. Senator Brandt’s office.

Good evening, my name is Michael Stein, I replied. I would like to speak to my senator. I have information pertinent to the hearings I saw broadcast today. I do believe she will want to speak to me.

I am not sure the senator is taking calls tonight, but I will see if she is available.

Michael Stein had been a strong supporter of her campaign, a benefit that had provided me with a more direct line to the senator’s office. Suddenly, there was an old, familiar voice on the line.

Senator Brandt. This is Senator Brandt.

Her voice was soft and preoccupied, and my stomach fell through the floor.

Senator Brandt. Hello, this is Senator Brandt.

Stein. Hello, Senator. My name is Michael Stein. I would like to testify before your committee on behalf of the people being questioned today.

The phone was silent, I knew she recognized my voice, and I could feel her uncertainty.

Stein. Senator, this is important, and the time has come. For many reasons, I need to do this now. Senator?

Senator Brandt. Mr. Stein, I don’t know that this is necessary. This is ultimately political theater, unfortunate as it may be. Besides, everyone was pardoned. There is no crime to be revealed. No one will talk, and no one wants to remember. More than likely, this will go around in circles, and nothing will come of it. To those attempting to gain insight into the resistance movement, it is simply a black hole in which they have no conception or context. We wisely made that choice some time ago.

Stein. This may all be true, but we all knew a time would come that this story would have to be told and record should be made reasonably complete if for no other reason than as a lesson to future generations. Besides, there are new frameworks; much has been done for the future. To some degree, it is time to have these efforts accepted in the mainstream and out of the shadows. I don’t have all the answers I just know that this is the next step. I need you to back my play one more time.

Senator Brandt, One more time? That’s actually rather funny. As usual, I can tell you have made up your mind on this. I will make arrangements and get back to you at this number. Will we be able to talk? I hope you know where this is going? Have you really thought this through? I have missed you, and you know I will back your play. It is what we always do.

Stein. There have never been any guarantees, but I know it doesn’t end as it stands today. I hope we can talk when this is done. I wanted to contact you sooner, but I feared for your safety. I hope this will lead to a new start, a way forward. Oh, and I need approval to bring my dog Buster. He is very well-behaved.

Senator Brandt. Unbelievable. I will see what I can do. I will call you at this number.

I assumed her system retained the numbers of incoming calls.

As I hung up the phone; I was relatively pleased. All things considered that could have been much worse. I set the phone down on the side table. I retrieved a long unopened bottle of bourbon and retrieved a glass with some ice. I rarely drank for a variety of reasons, but this seemed to be an extremely good time to sample an old favorite indulgence of mine.

I sank down into my leather chair. The bourbon was smooth and smoky, and I drew in that old familiar spike. How do you pick the pieces of a life swept away by circumstances? I don’t know that you really ever do. But through the love of God and those you hold dear, you can build a new life from where you are today. Each of us evolves as life moves forward. We never get to remain as we are; we move through different phases and seasons in our lives. Normally, these phases are reasonably foreseeable. Yet there are times when events tear down all that we have built and move us sideways. We are forced to reshape our goals and priorities, reaching deeply into ourselves in order to survive and accomplish that which God has asked us to do. And when it is done, we can only hope to reaffirm those values that have always been part of our fiber and apply them to a new life, enveloped in love and purpose. For if we are to move forward, we must be willing to accept God’s grace and the love of others. For if we fail to open our hearts and minds to the world around us and embrace the life we are given, then our endeavors have been in vain.

As though through a long, dark tunnel, there was a familiar buzzing, which grew more and more defined. My eyes shot open. Oh shit, I fell asleep. I grabbed the phone and fumbled to answer.

Stein. This is Michael.

Senator Brandt. Good morning. Did I wake you?

She was being playful and poking fun at me.

Stein. Of course not. What’s the verdict?

Senator Brandt. Your dog is welcome, but no one wants to talk to you.

I could feel the smirk through the phone. I wasn’t sure if this was going as well as I had considered.

Stein. Funny, I don’t remember you having this big a sense of humor. Can I speak or not?

Senator Brandt. Yes, this coming Tuesday at 9:00 a.m. I told them that you had information relevant to the matter and possibly records to support your testimony. Your dog may stay with you as you testify. I told them that you are a constituent, and that I believe you are reliable.

Stein. Perfect. I guess I will see you then. Should I drive up and knock or something?

Senator Brandt. No, you can park and walk in. The capital police will be expecting you. I am looking forward to seeing you.

Stein. I am looking forward to seeing you too. But first, let’s get this squared away.

I hung up the phone, unsure about what was next. I had to prepare on some level. The weight of this moment was now upon me. I guess I had grown comfortable in my new life, but I always knew it was a lie that had to end. I had work to do, so I needed to get to it. It was morning; I had slept through the night in my chair. At some point, I must have reclined and pulled up a blanket. Nonetheless, I was awake and ready for my Friday.

During the conflict, I knew that documents and records would be important for many reasons. I understood that proof of what had happened would be important. In many cases, people risked a great deal to obtain information from our enemies. Yet in this lay some risk; documents could also be compromising to those who fought in the resistance. The security of the records that we obtained became paramount. Since we all know how we bean counters love our records, this was a natural part of my work with the resistance movement.

The truth be known, everyone who supported our cause, either directly or indirectly, was important. Some fought, some spied, some helped with logistic or communications. Each had talents and purpose; everyone was needed and important. As the resistance began to take on more organization, a leadership hierarchy took form. Managing it all was a group of leaders who operated in secrecy. There were very few who had access to the overall command structure. They operated as a cell within cells, often having dual roles. People would run a cell or area and secretly would also be part of the overall command. And above it all was the leader known as Two Dragons. Some speculated on who Two Dragons was, but it was one of the most closely guarded secrets of the resistance movement. Some thought he might have been a military officer assigned to lead the resistance; others speculated that he was a political figure. Some speculated, based on alleged radio chatter, Two Dragons was actually a woman, and many others felt that Two Dragons was just a name, a symbol, for the overall resistance movement. Through my time and efforts, I was a witness to Two Dragons. Since the end of the conflict, most had come to accept that this elusive figure had been killed in fighting toward the end of the conflict. Regardless of whether Two Dragons was alive or dead, he or she had faded away like most of the leadership…including me.

I spent the next several days putting together the records that I felt would be useful. Most were encrypted on stick drives. The rest I had organized into a packet, which indexed the records on and off the stick drives, while I retained many records both digitally and in paper form. Far more records and backups had been placed in hiding, in most cases with multiple people in multiple locations with multiple redundancy. Still, the records I had pulled were a mere fraction of what was stored. I had pulled files relevant to the individuals being questioned. The rest of the documents would help to support the overview, which I planned to discuss.

Many of those who acted in leadership maintained a journal, which also acted as a chronological index for other records. Many of these journals or, in some cases, copies of the originals had been placed in my care. It had been some time since I had looked at my journal from those times. As I flipped through the pages, there was a sense of a past life. The thoughtful entries made with loving devotion seemed to belong to some other person from a long-forgotten time. I wasn’t sure if the man that wrote these had changed or maybe it was just the world around him.

I had begun to put together a narrative for my appearance, which I hoped would not need to do much more than take the spotlight off my friends. While they had been outed, at least there would be a fair view of their efforts. In addition, I hoped this would give those who would manipulate the truth a hint about what had been retained from that time. Maybe more importantly what might still be happening under their radar. There was no doubt that there remained several moves in an unfinished game of chess. A game that still involved several people, and I took some time to quietly discuss my thoughts with them. Nonetheless, it appeared that I would be the one to make what I hoped were the final moves in this game.

I suppose that in the end, in its most fundamental context, we had fought for our right to free will. In this lay the ability for each of us to effectuate change through our choices within our sphere of influence. The fundamental right to walk the journey of faith and demonstrative citizenship with our own unique gifts. My choice to appear at the hearing was against all good instinct, but this had to be waited against my reason toward the matter at hand. I suppose on some level, I felt I was betraying all that we had stood for, if I did not speak out and support my friends. My silence, which had been intended as an act of leadership. Suddenly felt like a complete betrayal of all we had stood for. Like so much else in my life, this was a leap of faith rather than an act of reason or instinct.

Nonetheless, there is a line between nobility and folly. Plato in his analysis of the earliest of democracies argued that people confused democracy with anarchy. While I cannot speak to Athenian society during Plato’s time. I would argue much to the contrary in my lifetime. It appears to me that anarchy is fed to the people as means of control by those who hope to retain, or obtain, power. Anarchy lies at the feet of our leaders, not the people. Nonetheless, people had been swayed over time. Personal responsibility had been severed from personal liberty in the pursuit of ideological fervor. I suppose it is to this end that our founding fathers built many checks and balances into our society, choosing democracy within a republic, combined with a free market economy. However, regardless of the checks and balances in any society, vigilance is still the greatest safeguard.

In here lies the broad overarching stroke of those who attacked us. Our enemies, both domestic and foreign, sought to destroy us from within. Dividing and weakening our society to the point that the external struggle would have been lost before it had begun. In the name of democracy, the people were misled about equality and social equity. Through activism and progressive rhetoric, many were led to believe that they were finally being offered true freedom, when in truth, the people were being offered anarchy in the place of democracy with the ultimate design of destroying our republic from within. Authoritarianism in the name of democracy would leave the republic an empty shell. A facade by which a hybrid authoritarian state could hide and lead our nation into a new world order.

Nothing stood more central to this ideological storm. Then a culture willing to cancel anyone, or anything, which failed to acquiesce to its mandates. A concept that has had many names and has been used by many tyrants but always leads to the same conclusion. Those who do not conform are to be both minimized and demonized in the name of a more equitable society. When in truth, this concept is used to prey on the free will of the masses and dehumanize any political opposition. Thereby consolidating power, through fear, at the expense of those who fail to conform. As we have seen throughout history, all this leads to one final conclusion. Cancel is the soft precursor to the social justification of killing the dehumanized.

In my life before the war, I had seen this concept grow and infect virtually every aspect of our society. I felt its harsh and unjustified hand in my work, life, and church. I watched many adopt its practice in the face of all good reason. A need by so many to be accepted, at any cost, for the perception of shelter from an impending storm. Like so many before us in history, our choices would determine how we would weather that storm.

I had to clear my mind and consider the task at hand. I decided to break my drive into Washington, DC, up into two parts. The drive from my place in the hills outside of Pittsburgh was about five hours from DC. Driving Monday afternoon, I stopped around Breezewood on the turnpike and got a room for the night. This would only leave me approximately a two-hour dive into the city. I planned to get up early to beat the rush and hopefully find parking.

This was a familiar area to me. I had driven through here many times before the conflict and we had utilized it during the war. I should call it a war because that is what it was, but these days, conflict sounds softer. There are two old tunnels abandoned by the highway Authority not far from hear up in the hills. You either know about it or you don’t. I learned about it from my mother-in-law who had driven through them in her youth. The highway has been relocated, and the tunnels were no longer needed. Despite the old familiar feel to the area, I had no appetite for a long walk. The area was actually very strategic. Route 70 would take you to Baltimore or you could pick up Route 270 to Washington, DC. These roads connected to Route 76 and 30, which led from the Philadelphia area west through the original Cumberland pass. The earliest settlers and militaries used this pass to move west through the mountains.

I had scoped out a breakfast spot, filled my truck with gas, and prepared for a good night’s sleep. I felt a bit like a condemned man, but I also was looking forward to the opportunity ahead of me. Regardless, a good night’s sleep and a hot meal would go a long way no matter what the outcome.

I arrived in Washington early; it is always somewhat breathtaking to see the capital and other building as you drive in. Nonetheless, the drive was also a bit surreal. Many years later, there was still notable damage from the war. But the old city wore it well, much like an old battle scare, a badge of honor, to be worn proudly.

I passed through security with my old, worn bag and was escorted to the room where I was to testify, while there were a lot of people milling around; clearly, most were ready to begin. The three whom I had come to speak for looked somewhat taken back to see me. I smiled and waved to acknowledge their situation. I also wanted the gesture to reassure them so that they would remain calm. I tried to give the overall impression of I have this, but I am not sure I pulled it off. In truth, the moment was catching up to me and I was a little out of my element. Since there was no going back, I ushered myself up to the table and sat down. I took a moment to lay out my drives and papers. When I looked up, I realized everyone on the committee had sat down and was staring at me. The room seemed to chill down a bit, but I did see one familiar face. Senator Brant was seated at my two o’clock on the dais. Buster was more than happy to lay beneath the table at my side. I heard a gavel crack down, and so it had begun; there was no turning back on my course of action.

Senator Coleman, a National Party member, caucusing with the Constitutional Party, chaired the committee. The ranking member was with the Labor Party, caucusing with the Union Party. The Union and Constitutional Parties had fractured after the war. Each remained as the name of the two principal bodies (caucuses) within each chamber of the congress. Those who held more extreme liberal views sought cover under the Labor banner but had been reduced to an inconsequential segment in the political arena. Senator Dolus had been a congressman before the war and had moved himself into the Senate. Due to his political background; he had gained the Ranking Members Status on this committee. I had little respect for him and knew, at best, his mysterious air of involvement with the war was an exaggeration. The rest of the committee I didn’t really know, but they seemed to be good natured…but somewhat skeptical.

Senator Coleman took a moment to swear me in and made a very brief statement:

Senator Coleman. I want to thank Mr. Stein for volunteering to speak before the committee today. While I do not know the scope or depth of his testimony, I do understand that he has information contradicting Senator Dolus assertions regarding our three other witnesses who have chosen not to testify under their Fifth Amendment rights.

Senator Coleman then allowed the ranking member to say a few words.

Senator Dolus. While I am somewhat doubtful that there is any evidence that will meaningfully disprove the assertions that the three people brought before this committee, who willfully and deliberately gave aid and comfort to the enemy and supported the attacks on our citizens, this language is directly taken from the resistance leadership language and later incorporated as the only exemption to the president’s pardon of those in the resistance. I assume you are familiar with these documents. I would also add that I do not remember meeting you, Mr. Stein, during my time in the war.

Senator Coleman. Mr. Stein, please state your name for the record, and you may start your testimony. I understand from Senator Brandt you may need time to not just present some evidence but would also like this to be incorporated in the context of your memories from that time. Since we have not had anyone willing to give such testimony, you may have as much time as you need. It is the purpose of this committee to better understand the resistance movement and gain insight into what it means to our country.

Stein. Thank you, Mr. Chairman, but before I begin, let me state the following: I do have documents that I have assembled from the records at my disposal and which I believe to be relevant to this matter. There are both electronic and paper records that I will make available to the committee for your review and the record. I intend to principally reference copies of a daily log, which also cross-reference supporting documents. These speak to actions, orders, and other related activities of the resistance movement, which was later incorporated in the National Civil Defense Command.

Stein. To Senator Dolus, I believe you are referring to the Third Proclamation made by Two Dragons. Proclaiming the resistance would show no forgiveness, no quarter, no pardon, to our enemy, including those who have shown that enemy direct and willful aid or comfort. This was later incorporated as the only exception to the president’s Great National Pardon, which was given to all Americans, not just those who fought. A gesture that I believe was meant to help heal our society. I must add that this one statement is taken from a larger directive and is the result of our enemy’s actions. I would therefore urge that it not be taken out of context. I hope that today I will provide some of that context for you.

Stein. My name, Mr. Chairman, my name (took a long breath)…for the last six years, I have taken the name Michael Stein. I was born David Werner. I was married to Meghan. Together, we had a son. We had a life together, and I miss her very much. During the war, I participated early in the resistance and took the name Bear. Over time, I became a leader in the Philadelphia area resistance. Later, I participated in coordinating records and logistics for the National Civil Defense Command under Two Dragons. So to be honest, Senator Dolus, it is I who does not remember ever meeting you.

I don’t know if it was the name Bear or what I had told them. But suddenly I had everyone’s attention. I had no doubt that the name Bear had appeared on their committee’s radar from both early and later in the evolution of the resistance. In addition, I have little doubt it took on several different meanings to many different people.

Senator Coleman. So am I to understand that you were part of the senior leadership of the resistance? And may I ask if you are the Bear referred to in news reports relating to the resistance?

Stein. Yes, I am part of the senior leadership. And yes, I can only assume that I am the Bear you are referring to. However, I must emphasis that my testimony, for now, is limited by sensitive materials and the safety of those who participated in the resistance.

Stein. First and foremost, I am here to set the record straight about my three friends whose loyalties have been wrongly questioned and misunderstood.

Stein. Second, I am here to discuss the intended destruction of Democracy within our Republic and in the world. While I am far from the final voice on this, my story should add perspective to what happened as we lived it. I believe that my story is the story of many Americans. This story is not that of academic thought or political posturing but rather the reality of those days. The march toward the end of Democracy did not start with an election, a divisive act, or violence. It started years and decades before as an idea, hidden in a lie and wrapped in an allegedly noble cause. Over time, it grew like a cancer, so slowly, our lives became used to it as a new norm.

Stein. Finally, let me say to all those who were part of the resistance if you wish to stay anonymous, silent, I (we) will always honor my (our) oath to you. Unfortunately, I must speak in this case to correct this current injustice. However, to those who worked and fought with me, when my testimony is complete, I release you from your oath to me. You have honored me and your country with your silence. Much has been done, and I believe this is the next step toward finishing what we started so many years ago.

Stein. Before I tell you my story, let me introduce you to my friends. The man to your right was called knife. He earned this name by attempting to join the resistance with only a knife. Yep, he showed up to a gunfight with a knife claiming it was the only weapon he could find as he worked his way to us. The lovely lady in the center was known as Sunny. I assume you understand why. The third was known as Cookie. None of them gave aid and comfort to the enemy. There work was so important and secret they ultimately answered directly to Two Dragons. Their identities were known only to a few in the senior leadership. Their mission was to infiltrate and participate with the enemy and thereby supply information to the resistance. Their contribution to our country is second only to their heroism.

Stein. I have included in the records information supplied by these individuals. I have also supplied records from Two Dragons and those of us in his command. These records outline the work of these individuals and excerpts of both my and Two Dragons daily journals. All of this will hopefully become clearer and meaningful as I tell you my story…the story of us all.

Senator Coleman. Mr. Stein, my apologies for interrupting. Am I to understand you have documents of the leader Two Dragons? I can then conclude you know the identity of Two Dragons? I have to ask what became of the resistance leadership, including Two Dragons.

Stein. Yes, these are documents from the resistance leadership, which I maintained as part of the leadership. I am one of the few people alive who knows the identity of Two Dragons. The decision was made that the leadership of the resistance movement would fade away and not leverage our roles. This also allowed us to continue our roles passively and inconspicuously. Another consideration, whether still relevant or not today, is that a price was placed on many of our heads.

Stein. For today’s purposes, my story starts a little over six years ago. Our son was finishing graduate school in another state. In truth, he had begun his life, and we were beginning a new chapter in our lives as empty nesters. My wife, Meghan, and I were not anywhere near retirement. But we had started to talk about second careers and places we might want to retire to someday. We attended church in the area, we both volunteered in a variety of organizations, and we made every effort to take advantage of the many attractions of the area. We lived outside of Philadelphia, which was a choice made through our careers. Still, it had become home over the last twenty plus years. Living about fifteen miles south west of Philadelphia, we lived between Amish Country in the Lancaster area and Philadelphia. This also put us a short distance from the Delaware beaches and a stone’s throw from the Delaware River. If you faced north, it was a little too liberal on my right and a little too old fashioned on my left. Nonetheless, it was lovely and diverse with many great activities and people.

Stein. Meghan was the center of my life. She worked for a large global corporation in the area and had earned a doctorate in her scientific field. While a bit of an introverted scientist, she was very capable and always made my heart smile. We complimented and balanced each other well and had a long, stable marriage. I tended to be a bit more rebellious but also more spiritual. Megan was very even tempered and patient but had a strong center. She kept me grounded, and I probably kept her on her toes. Neither of us had any clue as to how our lives would change and how much these qualities would be tested.

Stein. For the last several years, the political divide on our country seamed to grow exponentially. The constant barrage of ever-deepening partisanship had crept into almost every aspect of our lives. Reasonable people tried to go about their daily lives without controversy, but the issues never lay far beneath the surface. In any given place, at any given time, any given group of people, could quickly fall into tribes based on their political views. I believe most people had become numb and frustrated all at the same time. The far left had particularly become very hostile, as the political temperament of the country had begun to shift away from their increasingly globalist and socialist policies. This pull back had begun to occur globally with many nations seemed to instinctually pull back from what appeared to be globalization gone very wrong.

Stein. This is not to say that there were not issues with those who could be defined as the far right. There were, and probably still are, extreme groups with a variety of militant social agendas. Many of whom took it upon themselves to oppose what they saw as the far left. What was shocking was how those who had become more activist on the left of our country lumped everyone right of their views into one group, leaving many in the middle of the political spectrum as alleged radicals. The press only made it worse by emphasizing the two extremes as diametrically opposed tribes on a single line of either far right or far left, presenting both global and national politics as a one-dimensional choice with only two points on a singular line. The truth is that long ago, the political spectrum had evolved into a three-dimensional structure with many points, each point representing many facets of how a government or society is structured. Some see this structure as a cube and others as a sphere. In either case, we were being forced into political camps that had little or nothing to do with our founding principles or the world as it had evolved. The choice of two diametrically opposed political tribes was a lie, a false choice, sold to a people who once knew better.

Stein. Nonetheless, life went on, and each of us looked to our future with hope. We harbored the somewhat naïve belief that this would all just work out, unwilling to see the true nature of the forces at work in our pollical structures. In our naivete, we could not see the reality that safety, security, and social inequity were being used against us to alter our society forever. We couldn’t imagine a world without our free society. We believed the curbs and structure of our society would keep both sides of the political divide in do bounds. We had become much like children in a terribly dysfunctional home. We couldn’t imagine losing the only security we had known regardless of how broken it had become. Like children, we didn’t totally understand the pressures that had been placed on the only reality we had ever known.

I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. I had more than set the stage for the story that I planned to tell. Despite many hours of preparation, my mind had devolved to my memories and emotions. My thoughts began to cascade, and the reality of the moment was upon me. I realized that there was a relatively long and uncomfortable pause in my testimony. There was no turning back.

There had been many seasons to my life. And in this moment, I realized that all of them had brought me to this moment in time. Deep within my soul, I felt that old familiar sense of purpose, and with it came the focus and strength of a lion. Looking up from the table once again, I faced my fears and began this next portion of my life’s journey.

CHAPTER 2

And So It Begins

He who wishes to serve his country must have not only the power to think, but the will to act.

—Plato

My thoughts began to flood to the surface. I had repressed so many memories, some because they were too painful to remember and others because I kept my head down working on the many tasks that had become part of my life. As I spoke, I could almost smell old, familiar smells that filled my home. I could see the many windows looking out over grass and trees, my leather chairs, and a warm, inviting kitchen, while we had some nice paintings and prints. The paintings and artwork made by our son in his childhood took the most notable spots around the house. I took a deep breath and felt that great sense of decompressing from stress. I slid into my memories and began to relive those moments. I wasn’t sure how it would all translate as I spoke.

Six years earlier

I waited in the reception area of a highly recommended tattoo studio. Meghan finally appeared from the back area. She seemed pleased and jovial, but I was on guard since I had recommended this project. This was the last