Author Steven Clark Bradley

• Author Steven Clark Bradley
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Summary of this Book...

Have you ever wished you could decide the best way to right a serious wrong done to you? Chief Inspector Corbett (Core) Mandeville was the best of the best in solving the worst crimes in his state…until now. He and a killer have an uncanny affinity, with more than one attitude in common. This crime is too close to Core’s own heart and experience for comfort. This killer has a reason for his crime, and Core understands it completely. Get into the mind of the killer and the cop. Find a link that makes for exciting, lethal and profound act of vengeful justice. You will be tantalized and amazed by how similar they both can be when all their actions are
based on a new set of core values.

I especially liked...

This book is a ride that takes you deep into a plot that has no limits! I found the mind of the killer very well revealed and as much as I tried not to understand his cruel plot, it somehow seemed rational. That was concerning to me. But then there was the detective, Core. He was smart and clever and not far removed from the killer himself. The ending is amazing and I loved this book! I hope this author will write more books just as good as this one!

The author of this Book...

Steven worked a number of years in various countries in Europe, Asia, and Africa. He has been to 34 countries and has worked extensively with Kurdish refugees from Turkey, Iraq, and Syria. Steven also established a school by correspondence for African students in the African countries of The Gambia and Senegal West Africa. He is the founder of a Cultural Center for refugees in France, where he lived for six years. Speaking fluently in French and in Turkish, Steven has been in 34 countries.

I recommend this Book because...

I recently read Probable Cause. This novel is one of intense desire to take back one's life that was ripped away by infidelity and betrayal. All of us have been hurt in many of the same ways that Steven Clark Bradley describes in his new novel, Probable Cause. This story about two mens' reactions to betrayal, one the killer and the other one the investigator, gets into the mind and puts the reader right at the same level of emotion that the characters have. It forces the reader to really look into their own hearts as they read. This is not just a murder novel. In reality it is a love story, about a love so real and profound that nothing can stand in the way of putting the shattered pieces back together again. Core, the detective, wants to catch the killer, but he too has been wounded and bruised and battered internally by the very same things that Grag Bradford has endured. His affinity with Greg Bradford realy puts the story into some amazing thrilling twists. It is enthralling to watch the acts of vengence and the reaction of a cop as he remembers his own remorse during his time of pain and depression at the loss of his trust in his fellow man and in his woman. If you want to read a story that will bring make vengence seem like justice and a book that is a real page turner, then Probable Cause is the book for you. I give it an A in my report card!

Further Comments...

It will make you think before you commit an act that can totally devastate a person's life. Fidelity is not just a virtue, it is a requirement.

Tools of the Trade

It was all under control. There had been a certain amount of improvising, but Greg found that he adapted well. He had come to realize that the thing that caused many a “Perfect Murder” to fail were feelings of guilt and fears. Even Greg was amazed that he now possessed neither. He knew he should be troubled by that, but he felt actually invigorated. He was totally compartmentalized and his eyes remained on the prize. He had already tucked the letter to his beloved Lisa in his pocket and had cleaned up the spots of blood that had fallen on the floor. He had looked at the bed and it was quite soaked with it now, but the jerk had been a thorn in his side ever since he moved in. Greg chuckled when he recalled the look of shock written across his Barney’s face. In Greg’s mind, it was a sight to behold.

“Just ask me if I am powerless now?” Greg asked himself and the snoozing public as he fastened the utility belt across his waist.

It was now 4:30 AM. No one would check on him anymore for the night. As far as the peaceful masses knew, he was sound asleep. He had about 2 hours to get to the security vehicle and get off the grounds. He knew he would have to ditch it as soon as possible and he no longer needed to check out. He had signed his release in blood. Now he just needed to get into the dental services office and grab a few needed tools of the trade. He would have need of them later in the day. Greg found the master key and inserted it into the lock. He turned the knob and walked into the dentist’s office. He knew where it all was. He had built quite a good relationship with Dr. Fisher.

He opened the utility cabinet and took out two tooth pullers. They were rarely used anymore and not at all sterile, but that did not matter tonight. He took what he needed and took up his walk and made his way out the back door and walked over to the security vehicle. He found the key and got in and drove up to the main gate. When he got there the security guard saw Greg in his uniform and simply waved him through. The employee turnover was so great, for all the gate knew, he was simply a new guard and he had all the trappings of security. It was about the time that the last check would have been done and it was nothing less than totally normal. Now all Greg had to do was ditch this vehicle for one far less conspicuous and he knew just where to get one.

By the time that Greg had gotten out of the compound and had gotten a safe distance away from Longcliff, it was already 5:42 AM. Greg had about one hour before Barney’s body would be discovered. Greg drove into Logansport and into an area, which was renowned for covens. He found the house where he had met with Queen Lizza. He drove past it and parked the security van about four blocks away. Before he got out he checked that he had the letter to Lisa and the little bag of tricks he had stolen from the utility room and the Dental Services office, including his old set of teeth and looked for a security pistol that he knew was in the vehicle somewhere. To his surprise, it was in the glove compartment. He checked the clip and it was full of tranquilizer darts. There was now just a twinge of daybreak in the air and the fog was lingering thickly over the bluffs that surrounded the hospital. He had to be very precise in his use of time. Once he got into the house of the female devil he could take his time. Greg began to laugh.

“Stupid old witch, shouldn’t she know that I was coming and that I intended to too…?”

But the house was dark and no one was awake. He knew that she was totally unaware of just how soon she would meet her master! Or, was she?

Greg pulled a small crow bar from his little bag of tricks. He walked around to the side of the house and bent down at one of the basement windows. Greg was thin and was sure he would fit in one of those midget windows. He forced the end of the crowbar and the window popped open. That scared Greg a bit. It was just too easy.

“Maybe her Master is sick of her too?” Greg wondered.

He shined the laser light into the basement and had to clasp his mouth to stop a scream resulting from what he saw in front of his face. Then he saw what it was. It was just a mask, horrifying, nevertheless. He knew that this evil woman had somehow gotten to his head. She needed getting rid of. He pushed it away quietly and slid inside and closed the window. The basement was clean and had lots of satanic paraphernalia. He looked around for a moment and then found the stairs. He was sure that the door at the top of the stairs would be locked but was surprised that it was not. As he opened it he saw that it led directly into the kitchen. He stepped into destiny and pulled out the service revolver. As he walked into the kitchen he saw a light come on in the living room to the right. Greg checked his pulse and it was racing. He knew he had not prepped himself enough for this chapter.

“Mr. Bradford”

Greg turned his head toward the living room and knew that she had been waiting for him. He walked in the room and saw Queen Lizza sitting in her rocking chair and fully dressed.

“So why you want to kill me sir? Have I led you astray up to now?”

Greg now knew now that this woman was the real McCoy.

“You were very calm tonight you know. I was impressed with the determination in your soul, Mr. Bradford”

Greg walked into the living room with the gun pointed out straight in front of him. He saw her and aimed it directly at her.

“How did you know about tonight?”

“Oh, you mean about your Barney, sir?”

Greg stared very intently at her when she used that name. No one could know that he called the old fool by that name.

“HAHA! Can’t get much by me, Mr. Bradford. Now, please put that gun down. It is not needed in this house. We are both about the same business ya know. Did you know I am from Jamaica?”

“You all are, aren’t you?”

“Oh, no, sir that place has far more enemies of the Master than friends. That is why we all come over here. Anyway, we have perfected many things. You put your hand down and I will put mine up.”

Greg dropped his hand to his side with the pistol pointing to the floor. Queen Lizza held her left hand up and she let a set of keys dangle downward in the air.

“Isn’t this what you came for? I even filled the tank for you. Here you go.”

She tossed the keys to Greg’s feet.

“Why are you doing this? I was going to kill you and you knew it.”

“Mr. Bradford, you are a desperate man. Your soul has been ripped out of you and I have been there also, I do not want to die, and why should I when we are so similar in so many ways. I know you do not openly serve the master, but I too am a person and you need to take back what your heart desires. So, do it well Mr. Bradford. I hope you die a very violent death tonight. Tell me about it later, ok?”

Greg bent down and took the keys.

“What if the police question you? You could destroy everything.”

“And why would they? And why would I? Is there anything linking us together? I have given you the car. There is no sign of violence in this house. Before you leave, you better close that window in the basement.”

“I already did.”

“I missed that, hmmm, that is concerning.”

“I hate to tell you this, Miss Devil, but I do not serve your master.”

“What! You do not serve the master? HAHA! Who were you serving very early this morning, Mr. Bradford? Jesus? Oh you serve the master! When you wake up and keep his system afloat, you are serving him. Even the Bible says he is the Prince of the power of the air, Sir, ya know, so never fear, Mr. Bradford, you serve him and he likes what he sees in you, so far. But just keep telling yourself that you are doing it all for yourself. Greed and selfishness are by far the greatest motivating emotions. The master was the first to use them, ya know. So, go forth, Mr. Bradford and do not look back.”

Queen Lizza put her left hand up to her forehead and closed her eyes. Greg thought she was about to put some curse on him and pointed the gun at her. With her eyes still closed she said,

“You better be going, Mr. Bradford and please put the gun down. I have no intension of cursing you. In fact, I have placed a blessing of success over you. Remember? That makes me a cohort, does it not? By the way, the light is coming outside and a certain housekeeper is just about ready to open a certain door, Mr. Bradford, back at the house of my master.”

“What are you talking about?”

Then Greg realized that she was talking about Longcliff. Greg looked at her and thought he should say thank you or something.

“Mr. Bradford, A thank you is not in order here, Sir. It could be interpreted as a sign of weakness. Just go! I hate that car anyway!”

“What you gonna replace it with, a hearse?”

Greg turned and walked to the kitchen and walked out the back door. Destiny was all around him and he headed straight for it. Queen Lizza began to tremble. She knew how close she had come to death and it was not as pretty as she had imagined it would be. Then she heard it.

Back at Longcliff, a housekeeper had just entered into Greg’s room. She saw a sleeping patient there. She decided to quietly gather up the dirty laundry and then she saw it, the blood, the open eyes staring straight up to the ceiling!

“Help! Help! Oh my God! Help!”

You can read lots more from Steven Clark Bradley at these sites. You might even find some Stories That Read You! at:

• Author Steven Clark Bradley
• From The Mind Of Author Steven Clark Bradley
• Inspired Author.Com
• Inspired Author.com (Nikki Leigh's Virtual Book Tour)
• Posts On Fire
• Steven Clark Bradley - ezinearticles.com
• Steven Clark Bradley - Nimrod Rising
• http://communati.com/blog/steven-clark-bradley
• Steven Clark Bradley on Blog Talk Radio
• http://www.xanga.com/StevenClarkBradley
• http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3SMJINWMCARRY
• Steven Clark Bradley's Underground Controversy
• StevenClarkBradley - Book Marketing Network
• StevenClarkBradley - Published Authors

Decisions - Decisions, we all have to make them. What if you had the responsibility of making a decision that would change the world we live in for ever? Would you feel the weight of the burden that you bore and hear the voices in your mind of those that it would affect? Read Part Two of Quality of Life – Supreme Judgment see how power can be wielded for good and for evil. Quality of Life is a work in progress by Thriller and Suspense Author Steven Clark Bradley. It will eventually become part four of his very powerful book, Nimrod Rising. Like that suspenseful novel, Quality of Life is as real as it gets.

Quality of Life – Supreme Judgment Part II

…Saul walked out toward the waiting limousine. He felt the cool night air enter into his lungs and it refreshed his senses. That voice and the man, whoever it was…whatever it was…if he was at all, had been almost like a fist to the gut and had knocked the wind out of him. The fresh air felt better than his first hot cup of coffee in the morning! He took a few steps toward the car and heard voices in the night air. He was sure they were real, but slightly doubted himself. He turned and looked at the guard accompanying him.

“Do you hear that?”

“What is that, Justice Saul? You mean those voices…the protesters? Yes, they’ve been out there all night. We were all a bit worried that you were still here so late with them out there and still wide awake.”

“Are they out there about tomorrow? What are they doing; carrying signs and dressed all up in black…you know painted faces and look all ominous and all?”

“No sir, they are praying.”

“Praying?”

“Yes Sir, praying for you.” said the guard while opening the limousine door for Justice Saul.

Justice Saul slid into the car and it quietly pulled out onto First Street and he could see where the voices were coming from. He had expected anger and aggressive signs. What he saw surprised him. There were no darkly-clad images in the night. Instead, he saw groups of men and women huddled together and praying for God to give Justice Laurence Saul wisdom in his ruling. The signs spoke volumes to the Justice also.

“God Guide you, Justice Saul!” “We are praying for you, Justice Saul.” “Please think about the children!” “Constitutional =The death of America! / Unconstitutional =America has a future!”

“Slow down Peter. I want to watch this for a moment.”

“Yes Sir, but it could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous? They’re praying! They’re praying for me of all things!”

“A lot of us are doing that, Sir.”

Saul opened the back window and peered outside. There was no violence and those who carried the signs while the others prayed also kept a lookout for any opposing groups of thugs that might appear at any time. Everyone knew that America was only hours away from literally changing America completely and forever; everyone including Supreme Court Justice Laurence Saul. One of the lookouts saw the Justice’s face staring out of the car window. He dropped his sign and fell to his knees with his face bowed low and placed both hands in jacket’s pockets. The protester slowly raised his face up to meet Saul’s gaze. The man’s looked directly into Saul’s eyes and smiled ominously! His face became immediately clear to Justice Saul.

“My God! That’s him! That’s him Peter!”

“Who…who is it, Sir?”

“It’s that man I met in the building!”

“You mean the guard, Sir?

“Never mind Peter! Just put it in gear and get out of here!”

The man pulled his hands out of his pockets. He was squeezing on a live grenade in each! He stood up on his feet! Saul’s driver, Peter saw nothing. Then the man with a disfigured face and blood-stained holes on his military fatigues took on an angry look and shouted at Saul!

“Enemies of Humanity all!” He then reared back and threw a grenade at Saul’s car and quickly turned and threw the other one across the street into a small group of supporters of the bill on which Saul would soon have to rule.

“Peter, didn’t you see that! Get the hell out of here! Before we…”

The grenade flew right through the window and landed in the back seat next to Saul and a blast rang out! Saul felt his skin ripping off his bones and the searing heat melted his eyes and he knew he had died! Then, everything was silent. Slowly, ever so carefully, Saul touched his eyes. They were still there! He was afraid to opened them! He called out Peter’s name. There was no answer.

“Peter! Peter! Are you ok? Are you alive?” No answer!

Finally, Saul forced his eyes open and looked and saw his driver, Peter sitting at the wheel waiting to be told what to do! The back glass separating Saul from the driver was closed. Saul hit the switch and it slid down.

“Are you ok, Peter?”

“Yes sir, I am fine. Are you sure you are alright, Sir. I’m beginning to worry

about you.”

“You have to call 911, Peter! We have to help those people!”

“Where, Justice Saul? Is someone hurt?”

“I should say so! Didn’t you hear the explosion?!”

“No, Sir.” Peter responded and turned around to look at Saul. Justice Saul began to scream!

The man at the wheel was the same one who had just tossed the grenades.

“But you heard them, didn’t you?” the man said as he reached back and took Saul into his grip and pulled him up to the window!

"You’re gonna hear a lot tonight and you ain’t seen nothing yet!” Saul screamed a blood-curdling scream and opened his eyes again. He saw Peter on the phone calling for help.

“Put it away, Peter.”

“Sir, it is my duty to…”

“Put it away, I’m alright, I assure you.”

“Tomorrow, everything’s going to change! You’ve had your day!”

They began to chant, “Free Sex!” “Gay Rights” “Death Rights!” “Reproductive Rights!”

Saul’s limousine drove on, but he had heard them. He sat back and reflected on it all. He was certain, almost, that he had simply allowed himself to let his nerves shake his resolve. Saul was a true constitutionalist. Yet, the doctrine that espoused that the constitution was a living document had gained a lot of prominence in the past decade. Many cases had been decided or gone unheard by the court based on the living nature of the now tattered document. He had always believed that society needed to cleave to the document that was set in stone. That was why he had been nominated and why he had faced such an uphill battle during his confirmation hearings in the first place. Yet, beyond his ability to see it or to notice it, he had been affected by it all. The sodomy ruling, the failure of the court to rule on the Shiavo case during the Rehnquist Court’s purview had truly helped cement the living document into the social psyche. It had created precedents for future rulings that had naturally led to the case before the court that had rent Justice Saul’s amoral logic asunder!

Now here he sat, in stunned silence, trying to understand the upside and downside of something just five short years earlier would have been decided on a good night’s sleep! Yes, everything would change tomorrow, no matter how he ruled, but one thing was already sure. Judge Laurence Saul had changed already. It was as though he were in a trance until he heard the driver communicating with Secret Service.

“Trump Card is at the perimeter and requesting access.”

“Roger that Trump Card, you are clear and in the perimeter. Joining your progress as we speak.”

“My-oh-my, Peter, I don’t know if I fell asleep or just staring off in space.”

“That’s ok, Justice Saul. You’ve got a lot on your mind, but it was the latter, sir.”

“Latter?”

“Space, Sir. You were just staring into space.”

Saul just acknowledged with a small groan and a shake of his head.

The lights of Saul’s home could be seen in the distance as they illuminated the night haze of valley where it sat. It always gave off its greenish glow into the mist. Tonight, though it seemed different, somehow murkier than usual. Saul looked out the window at the trees streaming by as the car made its way down the winding path that led to his front door. It was a mystical and somewhat fearful site, considering all he had heard and seen tonight. He rather feared for his sanity. He was sure Peter, up front driving steadily and constantly looking back at his boss with worried eyes, had no doubt that Justice Saul had met his match of wills when it came to “The Individual Rights and Termination Bill” or IRAT as it had become known. Many had simply added an “E” to the end and expressed their feeling toward it.

 
Saul had read both sides of the issue and both the dissent and the approval reasonings from his fellow colleagues. It had constantly been an illogical and hypocritical thing in his mind that they who supported the right to die at will, the right of women to terminate what Justice Laurence Saul had always regarded as human life in their wombs were always the first and the loudest to cry murder at the execution of someone who had taken the life of another without their consent.

It seemed duplicitous, to say the least. Yet, as the leaders of such groups were never wanting in their fervor to declare, those cases involved the deaths of individuals who, albeit heinous in life, had never given own consent to their own deaths. That somehow made sense to Saul, though it never had some five short years earlier. Washington tended to change a person, altered the mind due to a constant barrage of analysis of a public figure’s every move. Every word was measured, every restaurant was given a special significance and any human weakness seemed a scandal no matter how common it might seem for the common American.

 
It had taken its toll on Justice Laurence Saul, as well. Family values and morals groups had a lot of hope in Saul and though they were worried that he could pull a surprise on them, they fully expected him to rule with the dissent and declare the measure unconstitutional. Yet, the new pagans, as they were loathed to be so designated, on the left, who were far less numerous in their ranks, but who always shouted the loudest, also had reason to hope. Saul was a deeply conservative man and had always declared his adherence to family values. That is, until he, himself was faced with his own personal tragedy.

As Saul’s car continued its approach along the path towards his semi-stately manor, his mind went back to a more tender time in his life. It was a moment in the life of every person when they longed to be adult and shed the confusion of being a minor-almost-adult. In fact, he found adulthood far more befuddling, which made those days of malaise so enticing now. It was during that time that he had met her. Saul had met many young budding potential brides during his college years. It seemed harder to find a perfect mate at Harvard, and he suspected it was no less difficult at any IVY League school. It wasn’t that they were so much brighter and lofty than the “run-of-the-mill” institutions, just richer and better pruned.

Though today, there was little to distinguish the beauties in any school throughout America, in Saul’s day of cracking the books into the wee hours of the night, they were all prim and proper and one could never be too sure or too careful before bowing the knee to make promises that always seemed impossible to keep. Yet, then, at that time of valor and honor, one did keep their word and he was not about to get stuck with some lovely shining thing who’d end up being a hollow statue, a mere shell of the woman he had first met. So, he waited, but he had never stopped looking. Then, when he had lost the research volume he had checked out and had gone to the circulation desk at the Harvard Law Library to plead for mercy, he decided to just pay for the book rather than sounding like a blathering buffoon to the beautiful proper thing behind the desk. He had looked at her name tag that read Emma and then into her face. When he had told her he had to pay for the lost volume she said he should take a little more time to look for it and extended his grace period along with a smile that told him she had noticed him too. His eyes said a lot of things to Emma that day and His heart knew her right there and then, something only men could understand and which women never comprehended but had fully learned to use to its fullest advantage. From that day on, he could count only two things that had never changed one iota in his life. He had never stopped gazing into Emma’s face and he had never paid for the book.
 

From the time he had met her, asked her for that first date, bent his knee to her and extended her finger and held her in his arms on their first night of passion, he had loved Emma and had kept every promise he had made to her, except one.

Throughout Saul’s rising career, when he had one more case, one more meeting to attend or one more opinion for her to listen to, she had made almost no demands on her husband. Through his busy, always working days, doing things that he new were vital, but which meant virtually nothing to her, he had never stopped gazing into her face and Emma knew her man loved her. She had been bright, supportive and content to stay right there and raise their one daughter, Isabel or Iggie as everyone one called her because as a child she could say the “z” sound. Theirs had been one of those remnant relationships that had truly been made in heaven. It seemed that everything they touched turned to gold, until the gold had run dry.

“Cancer? Cancer!” Saul shouted in his mind. He looked around in the car to make sure he had not done so audibly. The fly in the ointment, that one stroke that destroyed my masterpiece!” he told himself. Emma had been there with him throughout his meteoric rise to power and had been his very own very best advisor and supporter. She had taken his side even when she knew he was wrong, only correcting his way in the most placid and private manners.

“She knew her man!” he concluded.

Now, here he was, face to face with the biggest decision of his life, and no less so for the nation and the one person he had never doubted one time was no where to be found. It was exactly that, Emma’s absence, Emma’s harsh, lingering, soul-numbing death that made his decision tomorrow appear so hard to arrive at. He had always believed in life. He had opposed abortion and had always felt that no one had the right to end anyone’s life, even their own. Yet, had he not been charged with the awful reality that his wife’s life was gone and there was no hope. Had he not pulled the plug that at least kept her chest rising and descending, giving a semblance of life? He did not want anyone to have to makes such decisions on their own again, because he knew full well how painful that was, but he had not regretted trying and that was the other side of the picture in his mind. He had promised to save her life. He had literally gone to the ends of the Earth to help her while he had sat there with her as she wasted away to nothing as he had seen her chest rise for the last time remaining there in suspended animation while her sight faded and as he whispered his last, “I love You” to her. It was a final conclusion he had prepared himself for physically, but for which he had utterly failed when the final devastating moment arrived.

Saul had heard Emma’s voice many times since her death. He had always put the sounds of her laugh and her voice in thin air over to a vivid imagination longing for her touch, her smell and her counsel. He had never sought it out, but she seemed to be with him every where he went. Now, he was actually seeking her advice. Who could know better what was right concerning his all-important issue? Yet, when he truly needed some mystic resolve, there was nothing. He actually felt she was completely gone from him for the first time! He was on his own. Then, the words he had heard from earlier in the evening came to him.

“You’re never alone!” he recalled. “Perhaps it was not some ogre but from…God? One never knows.” But he did know that there was no outside force that could render his ruling for him; not even Emma. The whole wretched experience had altered his life forever! The new pagans had cashed in all their chips in one human race gamble that Emma’s death would have the same affect on the country as it had on Justice Laurence Saul.

The car pulled into the circle driveway and stopped in front of the house. Peter got out and felt the drizzle in the air and heard the low growl of the gathering dark clouds above in the very early morning sky. He walked to the backdoor and opened for Justice Saul.

“Sir, is there anything else you need from me tonight?”

“Peter, I need you to try to get some sleep. I’ll need to leave for the office at around 10:00 in the morning.”

“Duly noted, Sir.”

Saul turned and walked up to the door which was held open by his housekeeper.

“Sir?” Peter called out. Saul turned slowly to look in Peter’s direction.

“Yes, Peter.”

“If I may, please remember, you are never alone.” Peter shouted

Saul felt his head slightly taken aback by the phrase but showed no surprise to his driver.

“Thank you Peter, that’s a good thought at such a moment as this.” Saul entered his house.

“We are burning the midnight oil tonight?” Saul’s butler asked an obvious question as he took the Justice’s coat.

“Sam, quite undesirably, I might add! There’s always a bigger fish. I my case it’s the people, of which you are one.”

“Quite proud to be so as well, I say.”

Saul turned to mount the stairs.

“Could send up a nightcap? No food, won’t do at all.”

“Sir, I have already sent up the warm Bordeaux. Is that adequate for such a night as this?”

“Well Sam, there’s a question. Adequate? For sure not! But much wiser indeed. Thank you Sam. It will do fine.”

“My pleasure, Sir”

Saul turned and climbed the first three steps.

“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you…”

“Yes, Sam” Saul stated, slowly turning around. “What is it, Sam?” said Saul with exasperation and fatigue in his voice.

“You received this letter by special delivery. I took the liberty of signing for it. I hope that does not meet with your displeasure.”

“Perfectly fine, Sam. That’s what your for and you are also for friendship, so stop being so incredibly kind.” Saul said as he walked and over to his butler. “You can call Larry, like everyone used to, I have told you that.”

“Yes sir, Larry it is, Sir.” Sam affirmed.

Saul amicably snatched the letter from Sam with slight smile and fake aggravation in his movement.

“For goodness sakes, man, now that makes me Sir Larry. I kind of like the sound of that…Sir Larry, hum?”

He turned and climbed the stairs to the top. He looked at the envelope, which possessed nothing in the way of anything striking or special. It was common in every way. He turned it over and held it up to the light, as if he were forbidden from opening it. He had had it drilled into him that he could never take a chance with anything, even as passé as unexpected mail. Yet, it was not the lessons from his handlers that gave him such apprehension. It was this night; a night that was full of confusion, strange voices and deep soul searching.

Saul walked into his bedroom and tossed the envelope onto the bed. He flipped on the TV and started taking of his clothes. A shower would just have to wait till morning. The moment the TV flashed on, Saul saw his face plastered all over the screen. He flipped the channel, Fox, CNN, MSNBC virtually every channel including C-Span were covering the big ruling to take place in less than ten hours.

Saul sat down at the edge of his bed and listened to how the whole affaire was being packaged.

“Chris, there is just no denying it. If the court upholds the IRAT bill, it will take on the greatest reach of the government into the lives of the American people to date. Perhaps there will never be anything ever passed like it in the future.”

“Yes Alex, there has never been anything like it. We’re joined by conservative talk show host, Michael Nance. Michael, I’m sure I don’t need to ask so tell us, at this juncture, what you think about tomorrow’s ruling, only hours away from what I suspect you regard as the abyss.”

“I am in no mood for your nonsense or cynicism! Let’s see it for what it is! We all knew all the warnings in the world would not stop the government takeover of our health care system. Chris, we would bitch, moan and scream about that, but we could almost live with that as much as we hate the idea. But this is not a mere takeover of Americans’ healthcare needs; this is a coupe d’état! This bill has already been overturned by two Federal Courts, a Federal Appeals Court and I am sure it will be turned over by the Supreme Court tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you Michael. Now let’s…”

“Wait…just let me say my bit and I’ll get off your show. If this bill is passed, it will be cradle to the grave control of the masses. It will regulate eligibility for education, it will control a child’s health records from birth and parents will be incarcerated regularly for obesity and numerous other heretofore unimaginable offences. There will be no resuscitation orders placed on those the “Government” deems terminal…which, by the way, will now be determined based on one’s quality of life rather than potential of living a good life even with certain infirmities. The mentally ill and those without the wherewithal to maintain a healthy life will be chosen for termination!”

“You are out of your mind, Mr. Nance! There has never been any provision for such things in this bill.”

Saul was looking around on the bed for the remote to change to another channel when he heard his name in the tube.

“I am not going to try to persuade you, because the hope making you and the loud minority of the country like you to change and see the truth will be when you wake up one morning and realize that you, your family nor anyone you love is ever safe again. I am speaking to Justice Saul, if you are listening Sir, we have faith in you, but there are a lot of forces arrayed against us now in the country and they are all aimed at you. Are you prepared to let the mentally infirmed, the aged, the terminally ill and the unborn never again have a fighting chance. Are you ready to approve, as the bill mandates, that some Human Utility Board be set up that will, in a very real way, have more power than the President himself in that they will decide who will live or die and who is useful or who merits touching the benefits we have all worked for all our lives? Think about it, Sir before it’s too late. Thanks Chris for at least letting say what I think the nation needs to hear. They have been warned!”

“Wow! Michael Nance, ladies and gentlemen. We are joined now by the founder of the Liberal Progress Board, George Sorloff. Mr. Sorloff, the floor is yours I guess in the interest of fairness.”

“Chris, we are hearing the same old gloom and doom and the fear tactic that the American people have grown accustomed to and are sick of...”

Saul reached behind his back and his hand searched for the remote. He did find it, but his hand found the envelope he had received earlier in the day. His finger wrapped around it when the TV screen suddenly changed. Before his eyes, Saul could see the Supreme Court swirling stairwell with him staring up at it. He seemed to be alone, but then something seemed to appear and disappear again. It was there, no it was gone! Then it appeared and stayed! It was him, that man, the one who had the bloody face! Saul rubbed his eyes and changed the channel.

The images across the screen remained the same. Then it changed and to his abhorrence, pictures of aborted fetuses appeared. They were bloody, some in tact, others torn to pieces and in shreds. He wanted to turn his face away but the image was so shocking and searing to his soul that he was forced to sit there and watch the myriad of unborn human lives, America’s with no rights, lay there on metal tables, in trash bags and canisters with the biohazard symbol emblazoned on the side. Then the image changed to the Image of Terrie Schiavo, the brain-damaged woman who in 2005 had been ordered to die without a shred of proof that she even requested to do so. There were pictures of her smiling at her mother and father, protesters for and against her life continuing, pictures of her crying and finally images of her dead, starved and dehydrated body lying on her bed.

Random shots flashed across the screen of the infirm, the elderly and the mentally ill. The last photo that appeared on the screen was that of the most precious person in Justice Laurence Saul’s life. Tears formed in the corners of Saul’s eyes and then began to flow like a river down he tired and bewildered face.

“No! You can’t be so heartless as that! No!”

Saul heard a knock at the door.

“Judge Saul, is everything alright? Judge Saul?”

“Yes, yes ,yes! I am fine” Saul responded looking over at the door.

“Are you sure? Can I help somehow?”

“I am fine Sam, go back to sleep.” He ordered. “Old fool never sleeps!” he murmured to himself.

When Saul turned back around, he saw the talking heads on the MSNBC report back on the screen. He truly wondered if he had lost his mind. Had he fallen asleep? He looked at his watch. It was 2:43 AM. He saw the envelope in his fingers. It made his hands begin to shake slightly. Slowly, he slid his finger under the sealed flap and slid it across the envelope until it was opened. He spread the envelop open and as though it were some chemical agent, two of his fingers took hold of the one sheet of paper inside. He pulled it out rather quickly, evidently finding his nerve again and held out in front of him still folded.

“Ah! What the hell!”

He unfolded it and dropped it to the floor and stared at the words, “You are never alone!” written across it!

“What is happening to me?” he quietly but fearfully asked himself.

He turned the TV and jumped under the covers! The man who held the power of life and death over the whole nation pulled the covers over his head and lay there shaking and bewildered until his heart regained a steady rhythm and weariness was overtaken by slumber and fell asleep only seconds later. Only Supreme Court Justice Laurence Saul could decide what type of world he would wake up in.

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• Author Steven Clark Bradley
• From The Mind Of Author Steven Clark Bradley
• Inspired Author.Com
• Inspired Author.com (Nikki Leigh's Virtual Book Tour)
• Posts On Fire
• Steven Clark Bradley - ezinearticles.com
• Steven Clark Bradley - Nimrod Rising
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• Steven Clark Bradley' Blog @ xanga.com
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• Steven Clark Bradley's Underground Controversy
• StevenClarkBradley - Book Marketing Network
• StevenClarkBradley - Published Authors

• Author Steven Clark Bradley
• From The Mind Of Author Steven Clark Bradley
• Inspired Author.Com
• Inspired Author.com (Nikki Leigh's Virtual Book Tour)
• Posts On Fire
• Steven Clark Bradley - ezinearticles.com
• Steven Clark Bradley - Nimrod Rising
• Steven Clark Bradley @ Communati.com
• Steven Clark Bradley on Blog Talk Radio
• Steven Clark Bradley' Blog @ xanga.com
• Steven Clark Bradley's Blog @ Amazon .com
• Steven Clark Bradley's Underground Controversy
• StevenClarkBradley - Book Marketing Network
• StevenClarkBradley - Published Authors

Patriot Acts by Steven Clark Bradley - Border Insecurity

It is such a driving passion to tell stories that could make one pause and reflect on where we were and where we are, to gain a better understanding of where we are going. The only problem is that when we look at where we are and perceive of where we're going, then the story always, inevitably come out shocking and ... dare I say spooky. It is never my intension to paint a bleak picture, but the truth can set us free.

These are days when we have all heard that God should damn America, that we cling to God and guns because we are bitter and fundamentally ignorant and that we live in a mean country. It all means that we are fighting a real war abroad against Islamic terrorist who wish to destroy but can only wreak havoc. At home we are in a much more chronic and lethal war that threatens to rip the conscience from America and then to fragment her to death. The not too slow and not so hidden shift in the nation’s thinking and affection for their country has been evidenced by the nation’s readiness to elect a man has no experience in foreign affairs, has had dealings and friendship with a known, confessed domestic terrorist and who has been the center of every anti-American statement that was spoken in the 2008 Presidential campaign.

I wrote Patriot Acts for the express purpose of spinning a tale with so much clarity and realistic fervor that it might cause those who read it to understand the peril of seeing a transparent danger and refusing to do what is required to kill it before it is strong enough to kill us all. Today, America faces enemies that make the world of the Cold War seem like much brighter times. The Islamic forces that have declared Jihad on America have caused the greatest threat to the life of the United States since World War II. In Patriot Acts, America finds itself under covert nuclear attack from the Islamic Republic of Iran which has linked up with American Militia groups, which have set aside their political and religious differences to carry out the widest and most deadly attack on America in the nation’s history. The only person who can effectively retaliate against their aggression is Fisher Harrison, the best trained Special Ops killer the military has. The only problem is that he is in a federal prison, framed for a murder he did not commit, framed by his former boss, the President of the United States of America. You will take an amazing journey that will take you from Alaska to the Midwest and to the heart of the nation of Iran itself as two enemies unite to save the nation, while two enemies are unified to bring the country down. You will be amazed how possible this story is and may be shocked by how close to home and to reality that it could be! The main question is whether America is willing to do what may be necessary in order to preserve, protect and defend the constitution of the United States of America. You will read about actions that are not acts of terror, not acts of vengeance but in reality, Patriot Acts, many of the same decisions the next President shall surely be compelled to take.

Now, I hope you will read this excerpt from Patriot Acts, which will be the last excerpt that will be published prior to Patriot Acts being released. I think you will see the result of allowing a ticking bomb of apathy and ignorance.

Patriot Acts by Steven Clark Bradley - Border Insecurity

April 14, 2009 7:20 PM

The City of Nogales is there and back again in the shear uniqueness of being a split city that spans the southern border of Arizona. Unlike Kansas City though that lived, worked and slept in two states, Nogales shared the borders of two countries, The United States and Mexico. The last time anyone had checked, the city comprised 20,878 people, 5,985 households, and 4,937 families residing in this mostly Spanish-speaking city. This place was cherished and even had its own folklore. It was said that in this crossroads of the Sonoran Borderland, Nogales, Arizona possessed a goddess for the journey through life and for the places which one encounters along the way. The name of this goddess was Hecate, the guardian of the crossroads, an ancient and powerful female deity who possessed the power to see in three directions at once. Apparently, she had been helping many people find uncountable ways of entering the United States because of her ability to see in so many directions, but not so much here in this city.

This city was not known as one of the major crossover points through which illegal aliens from Mexico came into the United States never to return to their country teaming with poor, bewildered people and corruption. This city was legit! Mexicans knew they could cross over into the States and buy goods, which were either scarce or nonexistent in their own country. As a result, officials looked the other way, most of the time, because the trade that went on in this desert city was far more important than the size of the city and its dry and resentful environment would indicate. Cars and those on foot crossed over and into the western state and returned filled with goods that were far too lucrative to let such an insignificant thing like National Security stand in the way! Consequently, the security presence was small and only slightly vigilant. In fact, security was so underrated that the safety measures at the United States Border Control Station had even been outsourced to Mexican officials who checked the vehicles that crossed into the coveted giant neighbor to the North.

~~~

Fifty-five miles north, two very tired men ducked their heads and climbed out of a private Jet that had landed on a dirt runway that didn’t exist officially on any map. They jumped into an awaiting small Ford Escort and in three minutes they were making tacks and headed south, cruising down Arizona 19 while also in minutes, the private jet was airborne again. The destination was this small but well-known city/town town of Nogales.

~~~

Sixty miles south another vehicle, loaded with office furniture and briefcases, was headed North on Mexico 15. The two highways converged on the US side of the border that ran through the middle of Nogales.

~~~

April 14, 2009 7:35 PM

“So where the hell is he?” President Tate demanded to know.

“He is the chief of staff and has a few things to do around here!”

The door to the Oval Office opened and Jamie O’Rourke walked in.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Mr. President, don’t you remember the Lincoln Day dinner you couldn’t bear to attend and sent me to?”

“Up in, where was it, Nome, Alaska?”

“Yes sir. Weather was pretty good and love those blubber burgers!”

“We’ve got a problem Jamie.”

“Am I supposed to be shocked? All we ever do is deal with problems.”

“Why did I ever want this job?” Tate whined shaking his head.

“One, I don’t think you mean that and two, if I thought you did I’d resign right now and three, you like the retirement benefits?”

“Yea, they’re good, but I’ll probably get assassinated before I benefit from any of those perks.”

Jamie didn’t even look up when those words were uttered.

“Anyway, Jamie, back to our problem. I just got word that Harrison escaped!”

“More like stolen, I heard.” Jamie added.

“You know about this already?”

“Where was I all day Mr. President? News didn’t have to travel too far even in the frozen tundra! I was told that some kind of Paramilitary strike took place and he was hauled off with one of our agents who you placed at the prison to keep watch over that black sheep. Seems Fisher knew nothing about it. Anyway, I guess you do have a problem there, but we’ve got bigger problems than your fear of death or of hiding your skeletons.”

“Jamie, sometimes I wonder about your allegiance to me?”

“Allegiance to you? You should have no worries about that at all. I am in allegiance to the United States of America! I would think you’d have it no other way and that is why I serve you, and it is why I am up before most terrorists are and why I have gone to such lengths to keep you here and make sure you get a round two. But the nation always comes first for me. So, Mr. President, get your mind off of this guy you locked away for life. I think you should sit down and let me tell you what is happening right now as we speak and why we cannot stop it unless we act immediately.

~~~

“Atash, do you know what to say?”

“Of course, ‘Pesos, Pesos’!”

“This is not a joke! The resemblance we have to Mexicans may be passable but there’s that thing called Spanish.”

“Jalil, you worry too much! En Shallah, everything will go well, and anyway we will probably have to say nothing with this in my hand.”

The Muslim driver of a van carrying office supplies across the border waved a large stack of $100.00 bills. Their cargo demanded that they spread the wealth before they spread some death.

“This is a breakthrough for Jihad! For once, we won’t be doing the damage. Could we have ever hoped that there would be such a well organized effort by Americans themselves to destroy their own nation and serve Allah in the process?”

“Allah is great!”

~~~

“What?” President Tate shouted in utter horror!

“Yes sir, we have very valid and verifiable reports that somewhere along our border with Mexico a large number of tactical nukes are being transported into the United States.”

“When did these reports come in?”

“When I walked into my office, a field agent was faxing these reports to me and they were coming over the machine as entered my office.”

Jamie bent down and picked up his file off of a stack of documents he had brought into Tate’s office for signing. When he bent down he grunted loudly and rubbed his chest.

“What’s wrong with you? Don’t you die on me. All heart attacks, strokes or any kind of illness are temporarily forbidden!”

“I’m fine, just strained my back, I guess. Mr. President, we need to seal the border!”

“Oh, well, I’ll get on that right away! Are you crazy? That’s more than 2000 miles between San Diego and Brownsville! We’d have to pull troops out of every country they currently operate in to do that and…”

“Not so, Mr. President. We can activate several militia groups and use them to do what they do best.”

“What would that be, killing illegals and then we’ll have the Alamo all over again!”

“Chris…Mr. President, these guys will either be our enemies or they will join our enemies! You called the Minutemen vigilantes! You refuse to enlist the help of those who love the nation and now you’re afraid of Mexico? Whose border is it anyway and what are you going to do about this?”

“Do you have Intel on where the nukes could be coming in?”

“Yes sir! Somewhere along a two-thousand mile line!”

~~~

“Stop it Atash!”

“Stop what?”

“Sweating! You look too terrified! What if the Sheik had ordered you to lay it down? Allah will prevail and make a way!”

“Yea, you mean, what is it they call them…Dead Presidents?”

“I have them in hand! We will use US dollars, US mercenaries and US laws to give them Jihad terror!” Jalil declared.

Even Atash livened up as they pulled up to the gate.

Just over the border from the Mexican side of Nogales or just at the border on the US side, depending on how one viewed it, was a place that even bore the name, ‘Borders’ and it wasn’t a bookstore. Americans who wished to venture into the same area from which so many people wished to escape frequented this place. This large store had just about everything and in Pesos or in dollars. This was certainly the best place to get goods from the States that could not be got in Mexico and taken back across without any harassment or impediment. The store was not an amazing thing in any real unique way. It made a lot of money for its owner and it was its owner that was the special commodity. The proprietor was not Mexican, Indian or American or Irania. He was Korean.

Lee Kun Hee or his self-imposed American name, Henry was an unassuming man, a specialty amongst Asian people, but the Koreans had seemed to make a science out of practicing humility and piety. Henry had been there for many years and his bank account was far bigger than even his well-placed store could provide. It was about to become a good deal bigger too. Henry had come to America in the early 1990’s as a refugee from North Korea. He bore the marks of the brutal regime in Pyongyang. No one knew and he had almost made himself forget that he had received the marks and scars across his back and chest quite willingly. They had made his story so much more believable! How else could a red-blooded spy from the North Korean Communist government implant himself in this country? It had worked too!

Like a bridge between insanity and mayhem, two vehicles were steadily converging on Henry’s store. From the south and headed north, two Iranian Jihadists pulled up to the gate that, if opened to them, would change the face of the American Republic forever.

~~~

Jalil looked at the posted officials at the border crossing. He could not believe that the man who would be dealing with him and his fellow terrorist was not American at all but a Mexican national, which made the payoff game even easier and sweeter all the way along. Jalil pulled out two forged Mexican passports and phony shipment documents, which read ‘Office furnishings’. The similarities of their faces to the typical Mexican and the various dark-skinned Muslim radical was uncanny! They looked so much alike! Jalil handed the passports to the Mexican guard. The guard doubted their honesty and demanded all their verification. Jalil pulled out a very thick wad of US dollars and the passports were immediately stamped and the van pulled into the center of destiny!

~~~

The Ford Escort with Wyoming plates headed south down Arizona 19 and had just past the sign that read, Nogales, Arizona. That told them that they had almost completed half of their voyage. The other half would be an immediate return back to where they had started.

“Len! Len wake up you sorry ass!”

“What? Where are we?”

“Where are we? We are at Armageddon’s door my brother. The posse has arrived!”

Len Garret rubbed his eyes and turned a bottle of Scotch up to his lips.

“This stuff’s about the only thing that wakes me up anymore. Pull around back Frank.”

“In back? Don’t that look out of the ordinary?”

“Well, we ain’t far from it, so just do what I told ya, ok?”

“Yavool, Mein Fuehrer!”

Garret’s cohort drove to the back of the large wooden structure and both Garret and his driver saw the large van marked ‘Nogales office furniture’. They parked and walked inside.

“Mr. Lee, what we have is a cavalcade of diversity! Three nationalities, all hating the same place, all seeking the same thing!” Len shouted!

“Mr. Garret! How are you? Got your fax! Is there something I can interest you in today, sir?”

“Ah, yes, I need a load of briefcases and I’m on a tight schedule. I have a feeling my business is going to explode soon!”

Everyone in the room started laughing, including the two Iranians who were seated in the room next to the main shop. They would not see each other’s faces! The whole thing took only ten minutes to transact and the Ford Escort was headed north again to where they had left only hours before and where they had left two new members of the Brotherhood of Patriots still waiting for their orders; ten minutes, a far longer period of time than it would take to destroy America’s resolve, her economy and her very existence as a nation.

~~~

The lights were burning late at the Pentagon and in the White House this night. In countless homes in virtually every state in the union, men and women were filling their suitcases, kissing their wives, husbands and babies goodbye and heading to a myriad of locations by air, rail and road. As passenger planes and military chopper filled the skies, while trains rolled on rail and cars roared down highways filled with GI’s all headed southward and trying to stop one lowly and unsuspecting car that was already headed north unimpeded like a mobile weapon of mass destruction singing, “Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound!”

It is easy to judge those of our fellow men and women who live on the street as dirty, evil or simply as losers while they peddle their unspeakable wares, in the dead of night. The Earth is replete with examples of young girls who today live in circumstances that seem unthinkable to us and unimaginable. Many of these women set out on a journey to places like Hollywood to “Make it big” to “Become a star!” only to find themselves to be the victims of broken promises, veins full of narcotics and in bed with someone they have never met before and never will again. The stories are many and the reasons are just as numerous even as their original motivations seemed to have merited their journey into the ultimately lonely and often fatal situations which led many into drug addiction, prostitution, prison and even suicide.

In “Stillborn! – Baby’s Lost” Susan Chacon’s reasons also were real and profound. She set out to escape some personal dangers that would eventually only lead her into a final and disastrous ones.

Read this excerpt from Steven Clark Bradley’s novel, Stillborn, and you’ll see how a life without hope, support or mercy can lead a hopeless woman to make some terrible choices. So many women today are trapped in circumstances exactly like Susan Chacon. Perhaps, after you read this passage, the next time you see such people in their self-imposed prisons, you’ll feel more sorrow than judgment. Perhaps it will make you appreciate anew, just how important a loving family can be.

Stillborn! - Baby’s Lost

“Doctor, I’ve got a lot of blood here. I think we’re losing her!”

Susan Chacon, simply put, was bleeding to death. It was no big deal for her. Her whole life had been hemorrhaging since she was thirteen anyway. It was the perfect ending to a very imperfect life. She was completely unconscious to the outside world, but in her mind, which was traveling deeper and deeper into the tunnel of malaise and death, she was seeing her life play back in vivid detail. It was all taking her back to the day that led to the very present one in which she had given away two new lives to the heartless world while her own was being not too slowly snatched away from her. Susan could see her sweet daddy, then her mother hugging her brother, her brother staring down at her. She heard weeping and pitiful cries, heard her brother’s hideous diabolical laugh and then felt an image begin to play right before her dimming eyes.

~~~

        “Doctor, we need an I.V. started here, potassium is bottoming out! I’m losing her pulse!”

~~~

Susan Chacon was so confoundedly indifferent. She was a unique one; a lusciously beautiful girl, that is. Susan had a thing about her. She could take a heart, admire it for a time with passion and then cast it aside as unlikely to be of use to her in the future until right now as she was throwing away her own life so cruelly.

She lay stretched out on the emergency room bed, just a shell with a slightly beating heart. She had lost her will to fight. The blood she had lost in the delivery of her second child, where she had been left for dead, had also left her depressed and empty; with the feeling that there was nothing left to fight for. Yet, as she drew closer and closer to the end of the tunnel she could see the images flashing past her mind’s eyes! It all played like a sad ‘somebody done somebody wrong’ song that just would not end.

Throughout her life until thirteen years of age, she had been with lots of friends and had remained untouched and alive in the outside world. In her world, many of her girl friends had already ridden themselves of the lock to their garden, but not Susan. She had been around those who partied and caroused in a very Mexican secular, Catholic sort of way and had remained chaste at every level. For Susan Chacon, it was not outside with her friends that threatened to rob her of her innocence but rather at home where her future risked being ripped from her.

Susan had told her mother about her brother’s behavior, but mama just explained it away as though big brother was just being over protective and instead accused Susan of having impure thoughts. She had even begun to question herself. In her heart, she knew though, that she was right and had never given her brother any reason to act in such a vile way! It had pushed her away from both of them, but she had her daddy!

        Susan knew she dare not say a word to her father about her brother’s actions or apparent intentions. She knew her daddy would beat him, perhaps even kill him for having contemplated the awful-awful with his little sister. It was only the protective hand of her father that had allowed her to live in the same house with her brother and his adoring mother. Even Susan knew how much she had developed the capacity for alienation towards the ones she lived with and just accepted herself as having to live constantly in a survival mode. The nights were peaceful though for Susan. Her father was there and he loved her! He had always had a special affinity with her and he had made her strive to be a good girl, a good student and a good catholic. He was proud of her and she drew all her courage from his existence!

Then her world fell apart! “Papa!”

~~~

In the emergency room where Susan Chacon laid lifeless and still a nurse began to yell.

                “She’s flat lining! I’ve got no pulse here!”

           In the inner recesses of her mind, Susan was watching, repeated before her dimming eyes, the worst day of her life! Susan Chacon could see it all over again in her dying brain as she had seen it more than 15 years before! She had never gotten over having found her father that way.

“I need some adrenaline over here STAT!” the doctor ordered back in the emergency room.

“Try the paddles first!”

“Clear!”

The force of the electricity made Susan’s body leap into the air and caused the image she was seeing become momentarily hazy and broken.

~~~

~~~

“We got nothing here, Doctor!”

The doctor looked down at Susan’s lifeless body as the heart monitor produced a flat green line across its screen and a low constant hum. He wondered if it was worth putting her through the adrenaline.

~~~

Susan had only had her daddy for the first 13 years of her life. The doctors had tried unsuccessfully to revive him, but it was useless. Susan could see the doctor arrive at her house and saw him turn over her daddy’s body. She saw a large bruised area on his back in the heart area where the blood had pooled. It was not fair! God had turned His sight from her. There was an evil spirit on her or she had not said the proper amount of ‘Hail Marie’s to protect her family from the curse of the evil eye? All she knew was that she had not kissed her daddy enough the night before. Had she hugged him? She was sure she had, but wanted to again, and now he was gone and she was alone. She ran right out of the house and saw her brother standing at the door. She knew he did not care! She knew he had not physically killed her daddy but she inwardly blamed him for it all! She stared at him with hatred for a few seconds and then ran away, running, which was something she would be characterized by for the rest of her life. Her race into binging on a little fooling around and forgetting that there was a real world that would only leave her exactly bitter, defiant, alone and overpowered and perhaps now, dead!

~~~

~~~

         Susan started to hear the voices of the nurse and the doctor and the hum of the heart monitor, but she would not let herself be relieved of her sorrow and remorse long enough to rejoin the land of the living. She blamed herself for the evil that had befallen her family. She knew when men lusted after her. She always responded with a prayer her daddy had taught her, now prayer seemed totally worthless!

         She blamed herself for it all! This was not the life she had expected. Her daddy was supposed to see his grandchildren one day! Now, she had given away both of his grandchildren! He would hate her and oh how she loved him! She wished he were there now to give her a reason to let her heart beat again! He needed to be there to give herself away to her husband one day! How would she know if she found the right man or not? She knew that if her daddy gave her away one day to any man that he would definitely be the right man. Now, how would she know? She decided that she did not need a man! She had also decided to kill her brother if he so much as looked at her with the lustful eyes she had learned to recognize! Now, the only man in her life was her 17-year-old brother who wished to revile her and steal her innocence away. She knew what would be her fate and she knew what she planned to be his final outcome! Her life could be worth something if she would give it to a worthy cause. His fate was a reason to be! Yet, right now, with her babies gone, her life a disaster, she was glad her daddy could not see her and feel the shame she felt!

        Three months and five days into the loss of her daddy Susan saw fate take its next stride and saw her life go tumbling down with a knife in her right hand slamming downward again and again! She saw herself drop the knife that was stained with blood not so different from her own and fleeing, running, crying, living in fear and finally swimming across some river into a land of supposed safety. Then she heard a voice speaking to her. She knew that voice.

~~~

“Doctor, stop, we have a slight pulse!”

“I’m Officer Wallace Findings. I was at the scene where she was found. Is she dying?”

“Do you know her?” the doctor asked.

“Well, not well…yes, I know her.”

“She is closer to death than to life but she is trying to come back. We just got a slight pulse. I don’t want to do the adrenaline if I do not need to because she has lost so much blood it could cause her heart to explode, so try to talk her back, Officer.”

        The sound of Officer Findings’ voice got Susan’s fleeting mind’s attention. It felt soft and warm and like he really cared, an emotion she had experienced little. She knew he was good and that he too had suffered a loss that he had not even known of yet.

~~~

Susan felt suddenly at peace. Findings’ voice gave her a strange feeling of safety. She wanted to see him and again she saw herself swimming; taking long and hard strokes to get to the other side. In her mind, she could see a figure waving to her and calling out to her.

“Susan! Susan, come on back! Don’t give up! I am here for you…!”

As she got closer to the other side she began to make out the image as the face of the father of her babies, the last man she had deceived, a man who deserved to know everything! In the world, circled around her body in the emergency room the doctor, the nurses and one sad and lonely police officer looked down at Susan as she fought her way back to life. The heart monitor recorded increased heart rhythm with periodic breaks in the rhythm.

~~~

In the wealthy neighborhood of Palisades Park, Illinois a young couple pulled their car up to the door of their emotionally empty house. What they were bringing home today would fill the big house in a way it had never been since they had wed. A woman is helped out of the passenger seat with an infant in her arms. Little Jeffery was her baby; their child and he would never know the wiser! They would see to that!

~~~

Every time Susan’s heart would skip a beat she could feel someone pulling on her legs to draw her back to the land of the dying and she would kick it away. She could see herself looking back at one of the distress points in her journey back to life. When she turned her head she saw her brother, grimacing and tugging at her, screaming that he would avenge his death and pay her back for her actions against him! Behind him was a trail of men who had abused her and next to her brother was that evil doctor, the man who had left her for dead in that filthy place and the one who had lied to her and who had stolen away her babies! At the other side of her brother was Richie, her pimp. He was not smiling, not crying, not doing anything; sort of just along for the ride as he had always been! The scene made her swim faster and harder with deeper and longer strokes!

~~~

“Susan! That’s it!” Officer Findings pleaded with her as he watched the heart monitor. He could see her heart picking up its pace!

“Her heart is good, just had too much stress on it from the loss of blood and God only knows what she was seeing in her state!” the doctor wondered.

“Saw what? What do you mean?”

“She seemed to be reliving something because there were tears in her eyes and she just gave up at some point and the heart stopped!”

Findings thought about that for a second and began to cheer her forward again.

~~~

“Mr. Policeman! Help me! Please help me!” She could see Findings at the shore with his arms outstretched ready to take her to safety. Then she saw another man behind him and her heart began to race again and the rhythm started to become erratic again.

~~~

 Findings saw the monitor recording the irregular heart activity. He turned and saw one of his fellow officers there.

           
           “Doc, what are you doing here? You ain’t getting this one!”

           
            “I am a doctor you know. I wanted to tell you that the second baby has died. Oh, I heard she was dying, sorry. Guess I heard wrong. She gonna make it?” the officer asked.

    “Are you out of your mind, Wall?”

~~~

The Forensic specialist and Findings’ best friend left the area around Susan’s bed. Susan looked forward again and saw that the other officer was gone and started to again swim toward Wallace Findings.

~~~

“That’s it! Come on! You’re gonna make it!” Finally, she reached the shore in her tunnel vision and took hold of Wallace Findings’ open hand. Suddenly a light began to shine so brightly that she was forced to open her eyes! She saw several hazy figures looking over her. After blinking several times and regaining her reality she could see the doctor and the emergency room staff and there was Findings; the one she had returned for. She was sure she would have never come back had he not showed up. She moved her eyes around and in the distance saw Doc, Findings’ friend. Her brow began to perspire and she began to shake in fear.

Findings followed her eyes and realized that she was looking at his friend Doc.

        Doc looked perplexed and shrugged his shoulders and turned around and left the room. Susan calmed down opened her eyes and looked directly into Findings’ face.

“Oh, Officer I came back for you! I am sorry! Please forgive me!”

“Forgive you for what? Now you rest ok? We can talk about everything later. Right now you listen to these good people! You made them earn their money today!”

“Please do not leave me! Please…”

“I promise Susan, I am right here, just let them get you stabilized and I am right at your side!” The doctors were busy putting medications through her I.V., but Susan knew that her life was far from safe. She had come back to finally do one good thing before she died. She had no idea how vicious it would all become in the land of Babylon!

                A car pulled up behind an orphanage called the Queen of Peace. The driver stopped the car and the administrative sister rushed out. The man in the passenger seat opened the back door and pulled out 

an incubation chamber. He reached it out to the catholic sister. She stared at him and felt that strange feeling of guilt she had already so wonderfully learned to ignore.

“We will burn in hell for this!” she declared to the man before taking the chamber that held a newly-born little boy. The man looked at her unbelievably.

“Got bad feet does he? When he’s old enough we will put him to good use. The man gave the infant chamber to the nun and spoke angrily to her.

             "You are right, you know!” he smiled at her. “You really will burn in hell!”

The woman snatched the baby away and turned in anger and walked quickly towards the door. The man screamed back at her.

The nun turned around at the door and stared back at the man then entered the orphanage. The man got in the car and it sped away. The nun took the infant to a crib in a room with a huge cross on the wall. It cast a shadow like a dagger being thrust into the child’s heart, this child with no name, no future and so much like a child who was lost, alone, stillborn!

I am really deeply into my new novel, Patriot Acts. I really like it as I go about adding and taking away and making it a story that will read like your own life, because you relate to the story so completely. I think readers will get hooked onto its plausible depth. I really think it is perfectly timely with the world at large.

I have really been able to broaden the history and the plots of the character, better than I had remembered. I am never really satisfied, the book seems to guide the author at this point, rather than the other way around, but the characters now feel real. Still, I have this driving force within me to just get people to read the stories and to realize that they are stories of the real results of a world controlled by the culture of death.

Read the Prologue from my novel, Patriot Acts. Read it and then ask yourself if you really want your President to sit down unconditionally with nations such as Iran. I do have an intense story to tell in this new work in progress, Patriot Acts. It is only scary, because you know it can happen.

Patriot Acts

Prologue

"As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master.

This expresses my idea of democracy. Whatever differs

from this, to the extent of the difference, is no democracy."

Abraham Lincoln

There are some stark days ahead for the United States of America in its efforts to stop the Islamic Republic of Iran from developing nuclear weapons. There is an intrinsic need to deal with Iran, which is in the process of building nuclear reactors and enriching uranium that it says would be used for its energy needs. Now, we see that this nation has been thrust upon the world stage and is at the center of international debate regarding its nuclear ambitions. Therefore, it is only logical that we should take a look at whether this fanatical, Shiite state should be allowed to possess such technology. Does a land that is sitting on a sea of oil really have energy needs that could not be met by its massive reserve of crude? Would it be wise to trust the nation that launched the present wave of terror in 1979 and which continues to sweep through the world. Preparations for war are simply the only things to do if Iran is allowed to become a nuclear power. Can we continue to work closely with any nation, such as Russia, that would help Iran achieve this goal? These are questions that must be answered.

During the past years, The United States has made advances toward Iran, offering them some alternatives to building the bomb. There are many reasons stated why America would want to offer such carrots to Iran. One reason is that America has to show it's wimpiest "Allies" that the American people are ready to offer cooperation with them and to renew alliances that were strained, by the war in Iraq. We will offer olive branches to Iran with an effort to appease them while Russia presses ahead in its provision of nuclear fuel to Iran. It is my opinion that the United Nations, which is neither united nor a nation, undoubtedly has nothing to say about anything regarding any subject, but these are the moves that must be made towards war in a world in love with the fantasy of peace. In addition, America has to buy time to get Iraq somewhat stabilized so that we can have the troops available for round three in the war on terror.

Finally, there is a growing movement of revolutionary fervor building in Iran itself for real freedom. They are not crying out for "Western" style freedom. For, no nation on the face of the Earth has a copyright of the cravings of liberty in the heart of man. So, there is no room for a breather. There is no way to take a vacation. There is no alternative to taking these evil men from power so that we can keep the world safe for civilization! Let all these maneuvers come as they must, but rest assured, even now, inside the halls of the various offices of strategy in the United States, War plans are being played out for a strike against the Tehran Terrorist regime, as we speak. Any responsible defender of the nation could do no less. If such war plans are not, as of yet in motion, then we are all in big trouble, because there can be no victory in the war on terror without taking out the main sponsors of this diabolical war.

The government of Iran must be removed. Just look at what Iran has produced in the world since its founding as the first major terrorist government in the world in 1979. Fundamentally, Iran's ideological doctrine, its strategic goals and its political craving to control the Middle East have not changed since Khomeini's ascent to power in 1979. In short, Iran has employed terrorism as its weapon of choice since the beginning of the revolutionary Islamic regime. Terrorism is a State sponsored weapon of Iranian foreign policy. America will fight in a two-fronted war; one with an Islamic

Yael Shahar, ICT Researcher of the History of Iranian Sponsored Terrorism wrote that since the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran, terrorism has served the regime of the ayatollahs as a tool of both domestic and foreign policy. This policy was directed against Iranian citizens inside Iran, as well as against those with opposition views in exile. Iran's sponsorship of terrorism has bridged ideological gaps and political divides; Teheran has provided arms and training to such groups as the Gama'a al-Islamiyah, the Egyptian al-Jihad, and the Algerian G.I.A. Al-Qaeda too, has benefited from Iranian support and expertise for more than a decade. More recently, this support has taken the form of free passage for al-Qaeda terrorists seeking to establish a foothold in Lebanon. There are also signs that al-Qaeda has sought the help of Iran in deepening it involvement in Palestinian terrorism against Israel.

The triumph of the Iranian revolution in February, 1979 kindled a burst of radical actions by Iran that only merit the infamous title State-sponsored terrorism. These include kidnappings, sanctioned and sponsored by the Iranian government itself, such as the taking of American hostages in the first years of the revolution, and reputed Iranian support for and suspected direct involvement in Hezbollah operations in Lebanon, including the bombings of U.S. installations and hostage-taking throughout the 1980s. There is no evidence that Iranian policy has changed, and Iran continues both to provide significant support to terrorist organizations and to assassinate dissidents abroad."

During the Iran-Iraq War, Iran pursued a strategy of maritime terror, using unmarked gunboats and floating mines to attack noncombatant shipping. Numerous assassinations of enemies abroad in the late 1980s and 1990s were widely and persuasively attributed to Iranian official sponsorship, and Iran was accused of sponsoring operations by other militant organizations, such as the Argentinean bombings of 1992 and 1994 and the 1996 Khobar Towers bombing, attributed to Hezbollah organizations in Lebanon and Saudi Arabia. Iran is currently suspected of supporting terrorist acts against Israel through its support of radical Palestinian factions.

We may never have all the facts about many of the terrorist incidents for which Iran has been accused. Assuming, however, that the following discussion of Iran's record on terrorism and the main driving forces of that record are at least roughly accurate, certain conclusions can be drawn about Iranian policy on terrorism, the direction in which it is headed today, and possible U.S. responses.

Iran remains the ideological center of the America-hatred pervading the Islamic Middle East. That theocracy began warring with America when its rulers took 52 Americans hostage in 1979. Highlights of Iran's terrorism on Americans include the bombing and murder of 241 Marines in Beirut in 1983 and the killing of 19 US servicemen bombed at Khobar Towers in Saudi Arabia in 1996. More recently, Iran is known to harbor Al Qaeda operatives who orchestrated the bombing of a Western residential compound in Saudi Arabia in 1993 that killed nine Americans. Iran sends Islamic agitators and militants into both US-controlled Iraq and Afghanistan, and sponsors such terrorist groups as Hezbollah, Hamas and Islamic Jihad in Lebanon, Israel, Gaza and the West Bank.

In January 2002, Israel confiscated 50 tons of weapons to the terrorist Palestinian Authority from a ship from Iran. A month before this, former Iranian "President" Hashemi Rafsanjani stated publicly that when the Islamic world has nuclear weapons "The strategy of the West will hit a dead end, since a single atomic bomb has the power to completely destroy Israel." Is not this one quotation from the actual president of Iran enough to do everything needed to stop Iran from acquiring a nuclear arsenal? In 1993 an Iranian opposition group discovered another secret nuclear facility in Natanz, undoubtedly part of Iran's advanced nuclear weapons program.

It is obvious that Iran is the root of Islamic terrorism. Only in destroying this country's theocracy could we finally declare a major victory in the war on terrorists. Meanwhile, the Iranian rebels fight to establish a government that that will be secular in nature but Islamic in principle. They desire free speech nationwide general strikes have been held in the country with the hope of bringing about the end for their ruling mullahs and ayatollahs. As long as the Iran of today continues, the war on Terror will never end. Furthermore, if this terrorist regime is allowed to possess a nuclear bomb there will be a very good chance the war on terror will be lost.

These are just a few facts that reveal that the next war has to be with Iran. Though the dangers now revolving around North Korea are explosive indeed, the most pressing area of concern on the globe is Iran. Fear is a lullaby that puts us fatally, fast to sleep. America may well be playing the song and dance, but there is every indication that war in the land of fanatical Shiites is looming on the horizon. It is OK to dance with a harmless bad dancer. Stepped-on toes can be mended but it is a fatal mistake to dance with someone who holds a knife to your back. Ambassador Thomas McNamara, U.S. Coordinator for Counter-terrorism has stated that, "Our problem is not with Islam," he said. "It is with those who use violence and terror to advance their political objectives." I would only add that radical Islam is all about terrorism as its weapon of control. There can be no compromising with those in Islam who have caused that religion to mutate into a cultish brood of blood-thirsty vermin. There is no alternative to removing them. There is no room for fear or fatigue. There will be no peace until all the terror-supporting nations have been routed and their governments destroyed.

America is wise to make sure that all its assets are in place. Yet, if America allows Iran to possess nuclear weapons, it will face the same writing on the wall that a biblical king of Persia, (Iran), once faced which spelled his demise. It read, "You have been measured with scales and been found wanting!" Does the west love its freedom? Is America willing to take the measures that without which will render the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq useless? I predict we will take out this rogue regime and the world and America will be far better for it. For the absence of war does not equal peace. Refusal of war will most definitely spell defeat!

The absence of war does not equal peace.

Steven Clark Bradley lived abroad for over 17 years and has been to 34 countries, including Pakistan, Iraq and Turkey. He has a master's degree in liberal studies from Indiana University. He speaks French and Turkish. He has been an assistant to a prosecutor, a university instructor and a freelance journalist in Ramallah, Palistine, Israel, Turkey, Iraq and Pakistan. Steven is the author of three novels, Nimrod Rising, Probable Cause and Stillborn!

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I live in California. There has never been any shortage of weird and obtuse views on the basic issues that rule our lives. Yet, though the California constitution has never included any language protecting the so-called right of Gays and lesbians to marry, they somehow managed to rewrite it with the swiftness of diabolical fervor. I am not shocked by the ruling. It is inevitable that a nation that no longer cleaves to its original fundamental principles is bound to reach and achieve the obtuse and the socially suicidal. Will a future Obama administrator take the next infamous step and make outcry against the gay lifestyle a hate crime? I predict it will be so. Such anti-democratic laws already exist in our neighboring country, Canada.

Perhaps the most shocking thing of all is that social views toward gay marriage have truly changed. Though there is a majority of Americans who still stand against such a deal-breaking ruling, the truth is that Americans are losing their resolve to fight the moves that are squarely aimed at destroying the constitution. Perhaps the party that is the most guilty of liaise faire is the Church itself, which seems to have written off the Earth for some unproven hope of being spared from the resulting suffering that will ensue if all we have held as true is thrown away into the reprobate winds of disaster. It is clear that America is more than simply toying with the total restructuring of society. Indeed, the leaders of the nation, both the immoral and the offended who are too afraid to say so, have taken us down a road toward oblivion. The United States of America shall never fall from a foreign war. In fact, terrorist attacks will never succeed in bringing down the nation. The war at home now being waged by domestic social terrorists pose the gravest danger of all and they are poised to take the government by storm and to implement their evil breed of treachery. Do not be deceived and do not place yourself or your family at the precipice of the slippery slope of Gay Marriage!

Now, read my very controversial article on the subject of Gay Marriage and you decide, is Nimrod even now Rising right before our eyes?

Nimrod Rising - Tick Tock Part Two

I love to speak my mind, but with the temper of someone who realizes that I need to be open to other people’s opinions. My writing reflects this boldness and desire to record, in fictional terms, the issues and dangers that we as a people in our current society now face. Boldness speaks in terms that get readers’ attention. I strive to accomplish the goal of causing readers to consider what they believe and to open their minds to consider the peril of our ways so that we can take stock of the current direction of our lives.

I do not consider myself Prophetic. I do not feel some pie in the sky religious fanaticism and nor do I claim to see visions or hear voices that told me what the past means for the future. In fact, in Nimrod Rising, I am talking about logically determining where certain changes will ultimately take us as a people and whether our ultimate place as a nation will be better and more secure or increasingly dangerous and hopeless. I think the most important thing for a writer of such genres as I write such as Nimrod Rising is to be open-minded. I need to try to get beyond the physical world we see every day and try to accept that there is more out there than just us. I don't want people to consider Nimrod Rising as just another scary story. It is far more than that. Nimrod Rising is a book about the history of life and the origin of evil. As I write, I pose the questions such as: Who are we? Where did we come from? What was here before us? Where are we going? Are there answers to the question why the world faces such peril today? Nimrod Rising offers “possible” answers to those questions. I want to awaken the imagination and the cause self perception as readers taken in my stories.

Now, continue to read Nimrod Rising Tick Tock Part Two and see how the past events that have either shaken the nation or how they have lulled us to sleep. It is important to take stock and draw a line in the sands of time as I paint a very plausible future scenario of where current political events and policies could ultimately take the nation we love in the future. I know you’ll find it as real as it gets!

Nimrod Rising – Tick Tock Part Two

Thomas Jefferson had penned the words himself, actually quoting from John Locke’s words, that humanity had certain inalienable rights such as life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, though John Locke had stated differently in reality by declaring that a people had the rights of life and liberty, the pursuit of property. Locke had desired to instill in the minds of people that they had the right to ownership, posterity and physical possessions that would one day give proof to their having been on the Earth. In changing Locke’s words, Jefferson had set America’s eyes toward some inexplicable, unreachable, intangible goal of pleasing one’s self at all costs, even at the price of selling out one’s own freedom, one’s own country! Such attitudes and inabilities to act to save the land had left the people bewildered and always in the throws of change. The locust had come in as a storm that could not be measured in severity, and which by no means could ever be stopped. The American Babylon would fall to the ground before an eye could be aroused or before a sound could be interpreted. With that unholy day when the smoke rose up like the face of Lucia and consumed those who fled from its face, when missiles of concrete slammed into the bodies, hearts and minds of those who endured its rage, the Swarm had ushered in the end of the laissez-faire society; and the entire world wept.

The changes in society brought about by the Swarm were at first subtle. Then, as the doors into the misty, creeping social abyss had finally swung wide open, very distinct tactics were revealed that did, in fact, undermine the very social fabric of a once noble and moral society. Laws were passed that would sentence anyone to death who willfully, through some violent act, caused the death of an unborn fetus even if the mother was not killed. Yet, American justice and American society had collaborated in the murder of tens of millions of unborn babies in the form of thousands of abortion clinics across the land. This inconsistent ideal and the scourge of sexual diseases had also planted their venomous roots. Not to be worried, safe sex could still be had, or so it was proclaimed, and children were challenged to make their own decisions about when to have and how to have “safe sex” and how to safely take drugs no matter what their parents had to say about it, never mind the moral issues or the consequences to ones health and to decide their own perceived genders! Students were taught to turn in their parents if they felt they were being abused in some way. These things were not wrong anymore simply because society had decided it so. Nobody had stopped to ask what Elyon had felt! The nation seemed worn-out, wearing visages of the excessively burdened, overly paranoid and completely severed as a people and ravaged by rage. They seemed ready to sell their historic birthright for a mess of new-age porridge, ready to give away their liberty for the gods of peace, prosperity, promiscuity and security! This highly-technologically advanced society seemed to have taken on a life of its own, transforming its citizens into its slaves of selfishness, imprisoned by their own need of self-gratification. The American people now serviced the system rather than the other way around.

Was it all an accident? Was this simply the natural evolution of a free and forward-looking people or was this all a scheme; a well tooled and orchestrated game of Sodom killing Gomorrah? Issues such as surveillance, environment, social upheavals, genetic mutations, Same-sex marriage, Cyber-space technology, scandal ridden political leaders and new age religions seemed to rob the land of any vestige of the country that had once existed. Those who truly decried the lengths to which the government had to go to protect the people were few and far between. Everyone just wanted a safe and sterile place in which to play their evil and destructive games. Since the Swarm had overrun the world, new laws curtailing freedom of movement, speech and assembly had been passed by the United State’s Congress and signed by the President with no other alternative available. The public had generally accepted these measures. It was not so much that the people were oblivious to their reduced rights. It was also not exactly that they agreed with the provisions, which ran roughshod over the constitution. The key to the lack of civil unrest was that there was no other way to achieve even a semblance security without the Patriot Act and its offspring in the ensuing years. These laws were deemed as logical steps to save the nation. What everyone failed to ask was the obvious fact that if such measures were required to save the American nation then, the nation was logically and undoubtedly gone already. The world seemed to have shrunk. New sets of priorities, norms and values appeared in the newspapers, magazines and on the television screens.

The government seemed to be in collusion with forces that were, though unseen and intangible, very real as to their impact on the daily lives of the people. The primary goal had become the changing of the basic values, principles and precepts that had governed the lives of the United States since its inception of liberty as a nation. The nation had so rid itself of the burdens of righteous adherence to a righteous God that when a righteous president had come to power he was ridiculed, maligned, hated and found it impossible to pull the nation back from the brink. The need of keeping track of more than five billion people throughout the world had also become a major priority. From vacuum-tube computers as large as city blocks and containing as little as 64K memory, recent vast advances in computer technology such as chips as small as a fingernail containing massive amounts of gigabytes of ram now made the Star Wars phenomenon obsolete and ancient in comparison. Technological development had now made it possible to track the world’s population within ten feet of its location. The Swarm of evil urchins and their maze of infiltration caused all of these measures to become needed and unquestionably accepted by the masses though it still seemed impossible to track down the Swarm. Population control had always remained a sacrosanct secret in the public eye. Nevertheless, the programs, steps and various avenues of raising the acceptability of the experimental, inserted chip had been often discussed and proposed during annual, biannual and quarterly conferences and meetings of such groups as the Bildeburgers, World Bank, The Trilateral Commission and meetings of several Environmental groups and the Swarm’s circle. Several ways of achieving the goals of these social engineers were discussed in these secret meetings.

___________________________________________

From credit cards to debit cards, to smart cards, it would soon become a reality that every American would eventually carry on his or her person, an electronic, description of physical features, family history, address, occupation, criminal record and income tax information, credit history and every possible element of one’s life that the government deemed necessary. The inserted chip would go one step further by going beyond the smart card in the wallet or purse that could be lost or stolen to a personalized chip worn at all times under the skin. There had been far too many victims of the Swarm. The government had a need to know all. Thanks to Hamid Assad, the young and intelligent successor to Osama Bin Laden, these evil locusts had infiltrated every facet of Western society and could be found in every nation. From the great political and financial cities of the world, such as Brussels, Luxembourg, London, Paris and New York, the agenda of the New World Order was rushed up because the attacks of Beelzebub had rocked the very lifelines of the free world. At home, the American government had given the Federal Emergency Management Agency 12.1 billion dollars for the purpose of setting up Mobil Operational facilities, developing a super sacrosanct secret police force and restoring and revamping military bases such as Tonapon, Nevada, and Barstow, the purpose of which was to form boot camps for the violent eradication of these insects who had changed America forever. These facilities eventually made Guantanamo pale in comparison. All of these events, people, groups and crises formed the skeleton of a diabolical system simply waiting to be covered with flesh and to have its nostrils filled with the breath of the devilish life of many languages, cultures and peoples moving ever so closely together.

Promises of peace and assurances of prosperity, it had all melted down creating an avalanche of deception and detestable outcries for change and a return to a past, gone though not forgotten. It would only prove attainable in some imaginary, mental Disneyland! Promises! Promises!

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• Barack Obama - America's Narcissist President?
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• Patriot Acts - A Mesmerizing Thriller!
• Novels by Author Steven Clark Bradley
• 'More Deaths Than One' can Only Adequately Be Described As Superb
• Patriot Acts - An Intense, Fast-paced Modern Day Thriller
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• Part Two Brothers at War - The Heartlessness of Terrorism

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