# The Initial Shock - Book 2 - Oh Sh!t Series



## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Ok... I am at a point where I am going to add this preview to the end of The Awakening on Amazon in the next couple of days... tell me what you think, please! This is the FIRST DRAFT - so no copy editing has been even considered - just letting thoughts flow in the story... 


Chapter 1 – Lock and load
April 2013
John’s Basement

Skylar burst into the room screaming for her Mom and John. Cindy and her stepfather, John, both jumped up and rushed to her leaving the other members of their ‘prepper’ group sitting around the tables in their fortified basement all wondering what was wrong. The US economy had been on a steady downward spiral for some time and John’s like-minded friends had come together to form a group to pool their resources. Right before the collapse of the U.S. economy each member of the group moved into John’s home as a ‘bug in location’ to survive the upcoming economic storm America would face. 

The trigger for the economic collapse was due to a multitude of events happening at once. The announcement of the completion of the currency swap deal between China and Great Britain, the US dollar had taken a nosedive into the sand as a scared ostridge does before its impending death. Gas prices had skyrocketed overnight doubling instantly from three dollars to six, then rising even higher in the following days to steady out at sixteen dollars per gallon across the country. 

The trigger event for gas prices to skyrocket as well as gas shortages quickly following the price increase was due to several successful attacks on oil refinery facilities across America. The crippling gas prices caused a chain reaction in the “just-in-time” inventory systems that manufacturers, wholesalers, and retailers had implemented over the past few years to reduce their operational costs. 

With gas prices skyrocketing, along with the sudden limited supply, created just the direct impact needed to make these inventory systems fail, it was the system’s only Achillies’ heal. It seemed overnight, across America, any business needing the delivery of a part to make their product or any item needed for a store’s inventory were not available. 

Every type of business, from car manufacturers to grocery stores, suddenly found they were unable to receive their “just-in-time” deliveries needed to continue business. With manufacturers and vendors both affected, the result was empty store shelves. For any product left in local inventory, their prices skyrocketed causing hyperinflation to further spread across America. 

At the same time, the major U.S. stock markets were all closed as multiple U.S. based asset management firms were hit by hackers, and false sale orders were placed at nearly half the asking price for more than 85 percent of all their holdings. 

The closure of the markets triggered bank runs, and the five largest US banks were forced to close their doors. The Federal Reserve quickly declared a bank holiday, due in part to not having enough cash physical dollars on hand to meet the withdraws requests from the bank patrons. Soon, without food, gas, or even the ability to withdraw funds from their banks, the tired, scared, and hungry sheeple, who had thought everything was ok with America, started rioting in the streets of America’s cities.

Cindy was immediately by the side of her fourteen year old daughter asking “what is wrong honey?” before John could fully stand up from his chair.

Skylar stood there whimpering, tears flowing down her cheeks, unable to function enough to get a sentence out to her parents.

John deciding something very bad must have happened, grabbed Skylar by the shoulder with his left hand and with his right grabber under the chin forcing her head upward where she was looking at him. Cindy not used to seeing John physically manhandle her daughter screamed “John, let her go!”

Ignoring Cindy, John looked at Skylar and said “Honey, tell me, what is wrong?” as he gently applied a slight pressure to her shoulder and her chin with both hands.

“I..ah… I…” stammered Skylar.

“You what Sky?” asked Cindy realizing John wasn’t hurting Skylar but trying to get her to focus enough to spill out what was bothering her.

“I was..” gulped Skylar “was talking to Brad. And. He. Said. They were under attack.”

“Say that again Skylar” John said with some concern, as the rest of the group was now surrounding Cindy, Skylar and John trying to understand exactly what was going on.

Taking a deep breath, Skylar exclaimed “I was talking on my cell phone to Brad, he was looking out the front window with his binoculars and he started seeing people climb over the front gate and start trying to get into the apartments in the first building.”

“Skylar, can you call him back?” Cindy said.

“Here, I think we are still connected” as she held out her cell phone to her parents, which no one had noticed until now.

John grabbed it first and hit the speaker button on the phone while 
speaking toward the mic on the phone “Brad, you still there? Brad?”

“Yes sir. I am still here.”

“Give me an update.” John said as he looked over at Mike, Carl and Jim.

“Well, I can see ten to twenty people trying to break into the first apartment building, there are about five buildings between mine and the one being attacked.”


“Ok, is your dad there?”
“No sir, he took the dirt bike out around noon today to head over to the FEMA camp and he hasn’t gotten back yet.”

“Ok, does your dad have..”

“Wait, I think I see my dad, someone on a dirt bike is at the front gate. Yeah, it’s him.”

“That is good” as John shot another glance at the Mike, Carl and Jim.

“Oh no, someone ran out and hit him with a bat, he’s off the bike.”

“Brad, Brad, Listen to me. DO NOT GO OUT TO HIM, YOU STAY RIGHT 
WERE YOU ARE AT!” John said in as stern of voice he could into Skylar’s phone.

“But he is hurt, I need to go to him”

“Brad, don’t leave the apartment.”

Over the phone they heard a small crack followed by two more then Brad screaming “Someone shot him, oh my God, someone just shot my dad!”

“Brad, Brad, Listen to me. Are you listening to me?”

“Yea.. Yes, Oh My God!” stammered out of the speaker as Brad sobbed for his father, then “Yes sir, I… I am listening.”

“Ok, I am on my way, I want you to stay on this phone and I want you NOT to leave the house. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir. Oh God, someone shot my dad.”

John handed the phone to Cindy looked at the group and said “I gotta go guys. I gotta try to save this kid.”

Mike looked at Carl. Carl looked over at Jim and Gary, and then at the other members of the group. Finally Carl’s gaze drifted back over to look at John, Skylar, and Cindy. He paused for a second, then said “Let’s get saddled up guys, we got a boy that needs saving” as he pulled and released the charging handle of the AR-15 he had been holding since Skylar first ran into the room crying. 

Immediately there was chaos until an ear piercing whistle made everyone look back at Carl. He stood there holding his AR-15 in one hand and started pointing to give directions with the other hand while stating, “ok, listen up, we have never practiced this before, so here is what we are going to do. I want John, Jim and Mike with me. Gary, I need you on the ham radio with David, Chris, Jeff and Cindy ready to roll for support if we need it. Gary, dial it in to our standard frequency that we use, and if we lose contact, we will use Roswell’s repeater, cool?” 

Pausing to make sure Gary understood. Seeing Gary nod his head and start off to the man the ham radio that was in the main storage area set up on a small bench, Carl continued. “Ok, we want to pack light guys, your side arm with two mags, an AR-15, only go three or four mags, each of you get a couple of bottles of water, and someone grab the med kit.” 

Carl then turned to Skylar and kneeled down slightly to look her directly in the eyes and said “Honey, you have the most important job of all. I need you to stay on the phone with Brad, keep him calm and keep him inside his apartment. I also need you to get him to give us information about the surroundings. Have him peek out the windows at the edges and tell you what he sees. Then you need to relay that to Gary, so go over to stand by him so you all can work together. Ok?” Carl placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a small reassuring squeeze and said “we will try our best to get him for you.”

Skylar looked up at a man she had only known for a few months but felt he would honor his words, she nodded her head positively and as she started to head towards the storage room where Gary was turning up the ham radio, said into the phone in her hand “Brad you still there baby?” A small sob of ‘yeah’ was heard over the speaker phone.

John shot Cindy a look and mouthed the word ‘baby’ with eye brows raised. She just shook her head and rolled her eyes back.

April 2013
The road to Brad
Skylar had run downstairs at 7:30 PM, by the time they were out the door in Cindy’s Armada it was 8:10 PM. The sun was starting to set in the western sky over Northern Atlanta as John drove, with Carl riding shotgun with Mike and Jim in the back. John had installed an ICOM IC-V8000 ham radio in the front cab of the vehicle once he, Cindy, and Skylar became a part of the group. The radio had a removable magnet mounted antenna that had been positioned on the roof after they had cleared the garage. Carl was currently checking communications with Gary, who was in the storage room sitting at the base unit he had brought with him when he, and his wife, Candice had made the move to John’s house a few days ago. Carl had his AR-15 sitting against the passenger door with the barrel pointed towards the ceiling. Jim, who was sitting directly behind John, had his tactical rifle across his chest with the barrel pointed up and slightly behind him. The nervousness of Jim was apparent as he kept checking the bolt release and making sure the magazine was seated properly. Sitting behind Carl, Mike who had his riffle position similar to Carl, looked over at Jim and said “All good?” 

“Yeah, man.”

“Is it loaded?”

“Of course it is” was the remark by Jim.

“Got the mag nice and tight?” Mike questioned again.

This time Jim looked over at Mike and say “Yeah, why?”

Mike pointing to the nervous hands of Jim and said “Then stop checking it.”

Not knowing that he was apprehensively playing with his rifle, Jim looked down to see that he had pulled the charging handle back again. As a sheepish smile cross his face, Jim replied “Sorry, just a little jacked up, you know?”

Smiling back, Mike said, “we all are, we have never practiced anything like this before either.” Leaning forward and touching Carl on the shoulder, Mike asked “We good on the comms back to the house?”

“We are loud and clear with them, Mike. Skylar is trying to get Brad to give Gary a comprehensive overview of what he is seeing. Once Gary has some more information he will fill us in.” Looking over at John he asked “Where is the place and how far?”

“It is over behind the Super Target on Highway 9 that is North of Windward on a back street called Deerfield Parkway. He lives in one of the three big apartment complexes that are on that road.”

“Oh, great, just what we need. An area of heavy populated sheeple,” was Carl’s reply.

John who was driving made a left from Birmingham Highway onto Birmingham Road. It was now completely dark outside. He managed to ask “Do you think we will see anything between here and Highway 9 besides the typical deer, squirrel or rabbit that seem to love to run out in front of cars traveling at night like a Kamikaze pilot?”

“Honest answer dude, no clue. Keep it at forty miles per hour on the straight parts, but as you’re going into a curve back it down to twenty-five or less” Carl replied. Internally, Carl was thinking, how in the hell did I get myself into this? Carl had recently retired from the USMC after spending the first part of his career as a sniper in 1st Force Recon. His second part of his career, placed him on a special forces team under the Special Operations Command or SOCOM, working hand-in-hand with other Special Operators from a variety of different teams. Part of this time was also spent as an instructor at Camp Lejeune, in South Carolina, before returning to the Special Forces teams under SOCOM to complete several tours in the great sandbox known as Afghanistan.

“Why down to twenty-five or less?” John asked in all honesty. His mindset was not take it slow, but to get to Brad as fast as possible.

“Ever hear the phrase, ‘slow is smooth and smooth is fast’?” 
Thinking about it for a second, John replied, “I don’t think, wait is that from a movie?”

Jim hearing the question from John, replied before Carl could explain, “Yeah it is. It is from ‘Shooter’ which had Mark Wahlberg playing the role of Bob Lee Swagger, a retired USMC sniper.”

“That’s right, I remember now. Swagger was an expert sniper from Vietnam character from Stephen Hunter’s books. Those were some excellent books, too.” John looked over at Carl, then quickly back to the road, trying hard to put his mind at ease about Brad. John followed with, “so let me guess, that is an actual saying from sniper school?”

“You could say it is something like that. See rushing to get somewhere, or hurrying the long-range shot, is reckless. Simply put, reckless will get you dead, bro. If you move slowly, carefully, were every action is deliberate; you are actually moving as fast as you can without increasing the risk factor.” Carl said seeing that all three were listening intently to him, he decided to take advantage of a learning situation, he continued with, “once we are onsite, we need to move, and act like a team. Now, I know we haven’t had a chance to practice anything except shooting down range at fixed targets, so this is will be extremely different for all of you.” Carl went on quickly to explain a few hand gestures they would need to use to communicate silently if needed. He also discussed how they, as a group, would exit the vehicle, how to breach the apartment, then each room to make sure it was clear of danger. Part of this explanation went into how one needs to maintain and hold their respected fields of fire. Once Carl had explained everything, he silently said a silent prayer to himself hoping that they would walk out of this alive. 

John quickly did a California rolling stop at Freemanville Road, and continued down Birmingham Rd as he quickly looked both ways for any oncoming headlights. “Need your input here, Carl.”

“Ok, what do you need?” asked Carl as he also was glancing out his side of the SUV looking for any potential danger. 

“Up ahead, I can go several ways to Brad’s apartment. I can go left which will take me up to Hamby, then right on Hamby to Hwy 9 or I can turn right and go south on Hopewell, make a right on Thompson to cut over to Hwy 9, which is a slightly longer router to Hwy 9. I can, however, keep going South on Hopewell. It will lead me down to Bethany Bend Rd, which is a short cut over to Hwy 9.” 

“How much traveling on Hwy 9 will we need to do if we go down to Bethany Bend?” asked Carl. Having grown up in Atlanta, he knew Hwy 9 was actually a four lane road that was typically a heavily traveled through fare that covered the thirty-five miles from the Alpharetta area down to the heart of downtown Atlanta.

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe five hundred yards?” John said more in a question, trying to figure the distance in his head.

“What about once we hit Hwy 9 at Bethany?” Came the quickly fired follow on question from Carl.

“We would need to go maybe a half mile on Hwy 9, then turn left on Deerfield, which is where Brad’s apartment complex is on,” said John as he slowed down to take a small curve in front of the Hampton Manor subdivision.

Suddenly, Jim, who was seated behind John, but had been watching the road up ahead over John’s left shoulder, said excitedly, “hey guys! There is a man on the side of the road by the bridge.” 

John instantly slammed his foot on the brake pedal, slowing the massive SUV down from forty-five miles per hour to nearly zero in an instant. The rest of the guys braced themselves at the quickly reduced rate of speed, Mike actually grabbing the “Oh Shit” handle beside his head. “Shit, I didn’t see him!” exclaimed John, as he had no clue what to do next looking quickly to Carl. Carl, though, had already brought his AR15 up and to a more ready position by the time the SUV came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road, using his feet and leg muscles to push himself back into the seat to give him stability during the rapid decent in speed. “What do we do,” asked John. 

Carl quickly raised himself up and partially out of the window, aiming the AR15 at the man standing next to the edge of the bridge. In a forceful and commanding voice yelled, “Don’t move, Mister!” The rest of the group staring at the man saw a tiny red dot appear center mass of the shadow from the Burris Fastfire III red dot reflex sight mounted on Carl’s AR15.

The SUV’s headlight shined directly on a solitary figure on the edge of the road due to SUV swerving slightly to the left when it came to a stop. The shadowy figure was that of a man, who seemed to be holding some type of a long gun in one hand and the shape of a long pole in the other. A timid male voice came back towards Carl “Hey, I don’t want any trouble. I am just trying to catch some fish with my son.”

“I don’t see anyone with you, where is your son?” came back the bark of the former Marine Sargent. With all eyes in the SUV now on the man on the side of the road; and the man standing on the road seemingly blinded by the two bright lights of the SUV pointed at him, Carl in a low voice said “John, kill the interior lights, so when Mike open the door, they don’t come on. Mike on John’s say, slowly open the door, swing around the back of the truck and take cover behind the back corner section to cover our flank.”

The man on the road replied in a shaky voice, “Listen Mister, I am serious; all we were doing is trying to catch a few fish, for dinner, out of this stream under the bridge.” The man seemed to shift from one foot to another, similar to how a little boy would when being forced to stand in a long line to use a bathroom at an amusement park. 

While the man stood glaring into the bright lights, with his attention completely on the barely visible shape of the AR15’s barrel. John slowly reached up and turned the interior light switch from on to off and signaled Mike, by saying in a small whisper, “Lights off, Mike.” 

“Sir, I can understand that, however, we don’t know you and you don’t know us. We are trying to go rescue a teenage boy in extreme danger,” Carl replied sensing that he was literally about to scare the piss out of this stranger, as he watched the man continue to slightly dance from foot-to-foot.

Mike hearing John’s queue slowly opened his door and slipped to the ground, while holding his AR15 at the ready. He quickly squatted down, and as quietly as possible, moved to the back edge of the vehicle. He slowly took a knee, and peeked around the side watching their backside with his gun aimed at the ready.

“So leave, go, I am not going to hurt you.” The man now seemed to dance slightly faster, while wondering, shit, they are going to kill me… I know they are going to kill me… 

“Can’t do that sir, you might try to take a pot shot with that long gun you got in your hand.”

The man suddenly looked down at his right hand, realizing he was holding his shotgun, quickly released it, letting it fall to the ground as if a bee had stung him.

Suddenly, all of them could hear the sound of a young boy’s high voice saying “Don’t you shoot my dad!”

The man upon hearing the voice immediately looked to his left where the sound came from. On the other side of the bridge, shadow of a young boy’s body slowly appeared as he struggled to make it up the embankment that led from the creek below. In his right hand, he carried a second fishing pole. The man, that had been wondering if he would pee his pants just a second before, completely forgot that Carl had an AR15 aimed at him, turned and yelled, “Christopher Lee, get back down there! It’s not safe up here.”

“But Dad, I don’t want them to shoot you!” The young boy screamed as he finally completed his journey up the side of the road and immediately started running towards his father.

“Mike, you see anything behind us?” Carl asked in a quieter voice trying to avoid the man from hearing him.

“Not a soul, Carl.” 

Seeing the boy grip his father’s leg with a tight squeeze, the boy’s head coming to the man’s belt line, Carl lowered his weapon slightly and disengaged the laser. In a slightly less rough, but still authoritative voice he said, “Mister, here is how we are going to play this out. So, listen to me clearly. We mean you know harm, but as I said, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. So, we are going to slowly pass you, I am going to stay propped out of this window at the ready. Behind the truck on my side, I have a shooter watching our rear on the ground. He is going to keep shielded from you and walk beside the truck backwards as we slowly pass you. Once we are out of range of your shotgun. We will stop briefly to reload our guy and then head on our way, that good with you?”

Suddenly realizing that he and his son might live through the night quickly agreed with Carl while he clutched his son to his waste. John put the SUV into drive and let off the brake pedal, letting the natural idle of the V-8 engine slowly pull itself forward assisted by the very slight downward grade of the road. Once Carl was sure, they were safely out of range of the man’s shotgun, he motioned for John to stop the SUV, and Mike climbed back in. Once the back door closed, with Mike in his seat, John hit the gas pedal, and took off again towards Brad’s apartment. He could not help but think, I hope this senseless delay has not caused Brad, his life.

As soon as they were rolling again, Carl reached for the microphone of the ham unit and said, “Gary, you there?” While Carl, Gary, and Jim held their technical class certifications for operating a ham radio, they had agreed to drop the use of their license numbers for tonight. After all, what was the FCC going to do, fine them or come to their houses to take away all the equipment?

“Right here, Carl. What is your ETA to Brad’s, over?” The worried voice of Gary came across the scratchy built-in speaker.

“Not sure, we just had a slight delay with a man on the side of the road with a shotgun. Everyone’s ok and we are back on route, over.”

“I have Brad located in his dad’s upstairs bedroom. He is peeking out the window giving us reports. Right now, it seems there are over twenty people rioting. They are concentrating their efforts on trying to break into the first two buildings, which face his building. Over.” 

“Ok, we are turning onto Hopewell Rd. I hope that we will not run into any more troubles. Our ETA is unknown at this time, over,” said Carl. 

“Carl, find out if Brad can see the front gates from the window, and if the gates are open, and if the parking lot lights are still on,” said John, as he gave the SUV more gas to try to speed up their travel time.

Carl made a slow-down motion with his hand to John as he relayed John’s question to Gary over the ham radio. After a couple of minutes, Gary’s reply was that the entrance gate was stuck open, jammed by Brad’s father’s motorcycle and that the lights in the parking lot in front of each apartment building were on. 

As the four men traveled down Hopewell, Carl gave praise to John, Jim, and Mike on how they handled themselves with the man on the bridge, knowing that little event was a cakewalk compared to what they would face in a few minutes. Knowing that the lights from the parking lot would allow them to see hand signals, he started quizzing them on the hand signals they had recently gone over a few minutes ago. 

John interrupted the quizzing by asking “Carl, I am about to turn onto Bethany Bend, Hwy 9 is just a second down the road.”

“Ok, guys, listen up. This could get harry. I want windows rolled down and rifle barrels slightly out the window so if we come under fire, everyone but John can respond to the threat. John, if a single shot rings out, floor the bitch, ok?”

“Don’t worry,” came John’s response as he subconsciously gripped the wheel tighter as Hwy 9 came into view.

As John turned onto Hwy 9, the intersection was surrounded by 2 gas stations, a pharmacy and a strip mall that held a Publix grocery store and several other stores, including five small restaurants. With the lights from the parking lot on the group could see several people running into and out of broken windows. Those coming out were carrying arm full loads of things. Everyone in the parking lots were too busy to notice the black Armada as it whipped onto Hwy 9 and sped South, the highway itself was void of any vehicles allowing John to push the truck even faster.

John disturbed the silence in the truck when he asked Carl, what his thoughts were to best approach Brad’s apartment. Carl, sat there for a second in thought, finally he said, “I don’t think we have time to scout it out properly and try to sneak in. Let’s just do this.”


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## pittsanne (Oct 26, 2012)

I am reaching The Awakening now and am enjoying it a lot. Of what I read here you have a winner. Thank you for writing the series.


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## txcatlady (Sep 26, 2013)

Great story! Keep it coming!


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## wtxprepper (Jul 30, 2013)

Just finished the awakening and I'm ready for more excellent read will be leaving my 5 star review on Amazon


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

wtxprepper said:


> Just finished the awakening and I'm ready for more excellent read will be leaving my 5 star review on Amazon


Thank you! Greatly Appreciated!


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## eljones (Sep 2, 2013)

I'm going to go download the first one on Amazon now...If you get a chance, read mine too. I attached a pdf file so the people on Prepared Society could read it free.


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

eljones said:


> I'm going to go download the first one on Amazon now...If you get a chance, read mine too. I attached a pdf file so the people on Prepared Society could read it free.


 Thanks... Just bought it, will start it soon.


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## Ezmerelda (Oct 17, 2010)

I took the liberty of editing the first chapter of book 2 and saved it as a PDF, but now I can't figure out how to get it to you. suggestions?


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Ezmerelda said:


> I took the liberty of editing the first chapter of book 2 and saved it as a PDF, but now I can't figure out how to get it to you. suggestions?


PM me and I will shoot you an email address.


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## WornOutShooter (Oct 6, 2013)

Looking forward to book 2. I found your book on Amazon and that's what brought me to the forum. I have really enjoyed reading the book and from the looks of things I'll like the second book just as much. 

Just one, minor detail is driving me nuts. Camp Lejeune is in North Carolina, not South Carolina. Nothing big but it can give an old Marine like me nightmares seeing it wrong.


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

WornOutShooter said:


> Looking forward to book 2. I found your book on Amazon and that's what brought me to the forum. I have really enjoyed reading the book and from the looks of things I'll like the second book just as much.
> 
> Just one, minor detail is driving me nuts. Camp Lejeune is in North Carolina, not South Carolina. Nothing big but it can give an old Marine like me nightmares seeing it wrong.


Crap - Sorry about that, I will make sure I change that...


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

“What about Brad’s dad laying in our path?” asked Jim, from the backseat.

“Oh Shit” said John and Carl.

April 2013
United States Penitentiary Atlanta

Paul Crowne, the warden of the Atlanta U.S. penitentiary strode quickly down the hallway leading to the maximum-security area of the prison. To his right was Tony Marsh and to his left was Shawn Tristle, his assistant wardens. Following a few steps behind the three were Sam Garnet, the head of operations, and Eddie Wormack the head of security for the prison.

“I don’t give a damn, Shawn, we can’t just let all the prisoners left starve!” stated Warden Crowne heatedly. Over the last few weeks, as the just-in-time-inventory methods used across the country for nearly any business in the U.S. began to fail, the United States Penitentiary system seem to start failing as well. Needed shipments for food and supplies slowly ground to a complete halt, while each day a large percentage of the guards either called in sick or just didn’t show up for work. A few days prior, Warden Crowne was forced into making a decision that they slowly start releasing the prisoners onto the Atlanta streets after hearing from Washington that they were on their own for now. 

“Sir, with all due respect, but you are crazy if you think we can just let the maximum-security prisoners back on the streets. Think about it, sir! I have a wife, kids, we all do! There could be retribution from some of them, just because we are who we are!” pleaded Tony Marsh, as he tried to change the warden’s mind. 

“Warden, Tony’s right, think about it,” agreed Shawn Tristle.

Both Sam and Eddie had remained quiet during this last debate. Although they did not want to release any prisoner, they both were in agreement with the Warden that without food and proper ways to secure the prison, releasing them was the only thing to do. 

Stopping dead in the middle of the hallway, Warden Crowne turned around abruptly to face his team. Never in his life had he been so conflicted and stressed over a decision. He looked at the four men, and then said, “In my mind, I agree with you, Shawn and Tony. It is not our fault that these inmates had broken the law in the past, and, yes, I know they could very well become a threat to society once they are released. However, I can’t simply let a person starve to death, even if they have murdered or raped someone in the past. Our job is to make sure they do their time, while making sure we provide for them in a humane way. I am sorry, starving a person, no matter of their past, will I consider humane. I just can’t do that.” 

While Tony and Shawn both though how to respond to the Warden, Sam spoke up for the first time, “I agree Warden,” turning slightly to face both Shawn and Tony, he continued, “ Yes, these inmates in their past have violated our laws as a society. However, part of our job is to guaranty their safety while they do their sentence with us. We just can’t slam the door on them and let them starve.”

“Well, how about a better, more humane way, then?” asked Tony, as he made finger quotes and sarcastically said the word humane.

“If you have a better way Tony, I am willing to listen to it,” said Warden Crowne.

Tony looked each one in the eye, took a deep breath, and then said, “well, what if we cut off the head of the snake?”

The four other men were puzzled by this comment. Warden Crowne was the first to respond with, “what do you mean by cutting of the head of the snake?”

“Well,” Tony turned a little towards Eddie and continued, “Eddie, how many lieutenants would you say, Caesar and Jack have here?” 

Tony was referring to Caesar Rodriguez was the highest-ranking member of the La Mara Salvatrucha, or MS-13 gang in the Southeast U.S. MS-13 was known for their willingness-even eagerness to use overt violence to punctuate their activities and Jack Simon was the head of Southeastern operations for Public Enemy Number One or PEN1. For the last consecutive twelve years, PEN1 had been the fastest-growing "***********" prison gang in the U.S. At the meeting to start releasing prisoners a few weeks ago, Eddie Wormak had reported that it looked like Ceasar and Jack were plotting something, haven been spotted by the guards several times together in the recreational areas. This was very concerning as the two gangs were constantly at war with each other inside the prison walls. 

Eddie paused thinking about the question, then said, “Well Ceasar has four and maybe a fifth is starting to show as a possible. Jack, on the other hand, prefers to keep control himself. I would say he has two that I would consider his lieutenants.” 

Quickly before anyone could put the pieces of the puzzle together, Tony followed with, “So we are talking about eight to nine inmates that are the real concern in regards to the most danger to Atlanta if they are released. These men literally hold the gangs together, in fact, over the last couple of days with Ceasar and Jack seeming to be working together, I have even spotted the different gang members hanging out together without any incidents. So, we cut off the head of the snake. Without these men, there is no organizational leadership.”
“You mean kill them?” asked Warden Crowne, in shock. “We can’t do that! I should fire you on the spot for making that statement.”

“Listen to him, Paul,” stated Shawn, “It makes sense.” Holding up his hands to silence any response from the others he continued. “Look, deep down, I split too. I am very concerned about the outcome of this whole mess, and dumping inmates onto Atlanta’s streets, where I live, where my family lives, is dangerous. We swore an oath to protect and serve the citizens and community. I think Tony is absolutely right, that if we can cut off the head of the leadership, the gangs would become disorganized, which could be safer for the city and ourselves. Think about it at least.”

Warden Crowne just stood there shaking his head as he realized that his two longest serving employees, trusted allies, and both being his assistant wardens were suggesting the murder of eight to nine inmates—all in the possible prevention of releasing total chaos into the streets of Atlanta in a few days.

“Let me think about this,” was his reply as he turned and started walking away from the group. No one saw the facial reaction of Sam Garnet when the warden said those five words. 

April 2013
Less than a mile to Brad
“What the hell are we going to do about Brad’s dad lying in the road?” asked John as he turned onto Deerfield Parkway, now less than a mile from Brad’s apartment complex.

“First, slow down some, so we can think this through,” said Carl, as John immediately brought the SUV down to fifteen miles per hour. 

“How about a drive by first?” asked Mike, who was seated behind Carl.

“Can’t do that, it would take too much time to turn around with these big medians in the road, who knows how far down the next access to turn around would be.” said John.

“I have it, here is what we are going to do,” said Carl, as he quickly continued, “John as we approach the turn in, I want you to turn off the headlights. Second, ten yards or so before the turn in, I want you to come down in speed to just a crawl. Jim and I will jump out on this side of the turn in, then John go past slowly, once you are ten yards past, I want Mike to jump out. John, you stay in the truck and put it in park so the brake lights don’t light us up.”

“Ok, so you have me on one side of the gates and you and Jim on the other,” Mike replied, still not understanding the plan.

Carl continued, “I want you and Jim to provide cover for me as I run up to Brad’s dad. I will very quickly check vitals and attempt to pull him out of the way. Once that is done, then we can all wait for John to circle back around, having us jump in right before he enters the gate. Make sense?”

“Yeah, let’s do this,” said Jim.

John quickly rechecked to make sure the interior dome light was still turned off. As he rounded a curve, right before the complex, he turned off his headlights, and let off the gas pedal. This allowed the big SUV’s engine’s natural idle to slowly pull the vehicle down the road towards the apartment complex. Carl and Jim, opened their doors and basically walked out of the car holding their weapons at the ready heading for their side of the entrance. Once the SUV had traveled ten yards further from the gate, Mike slipped out of the vehicle as well. John quickly slammed the gearshift into park without pressing the brakes, preventing Mike, Carl, and Jim from being exposed by the red light that would have come on, while thinking, Cindy would kill me if she knew I just did that to her Armada.

Carl saw Mike come slowly around the side of the fence in a squatting position, the AR15 in his hands sweeping in front of him looking for possible threats. Jim was behind Carl about three feet, covering their side of the road. Carl took a deep breath thinking, slow is smooth and smooth is fast, as he crept slowly towards the prone body lying in to road ahead of him. As Carl reached the body, he thought he saw Brad Senior’s chest rise slightly. Very quietly, Carl whispered, “Brad, if you’re conscious, don’t move, I am here to help you. Lay very still and don’t make any noise.”

Carl quickly reached for Brad Senior’s neck and felt a faint pulse. He slowly reached out and turned Brad over so he was lying on his back. Brad’s father looked up at Carl with fear and extreme pain in his eyes. Carl, quickly scanned Brad’s body seeing a bullet wound in the right arm and another in the abdomen. He learned forward and whispered in Brad’s ear, “ok, Brad, this is what I am going to do. I am going to grab you, lift you up, and carry you quickly to John’s SUV. This could be very painful, but DO NOT MAKE A SOUND, got it?”

Seeing Brad nod his head slightly, Carl slung his AR15 over his back, and then internally on a count of three lifted Brad up in his arms and quickly made for John’s truck. Mike seeing Carl pick up Brad Senior instead of dragging him out of the way, immediately headed for the SUV knowing that was were Carl was headed for with Brad. Jim, seeing the action, stayed where he was for a few seconds then slower than Mike started his retreat as well.
Mike wanting to keep silent as possible ran up towards the backside window whispering, “John, open the back hatch, open the hatch, Carl has Brad’s dad.”

John quickly hit the button to open the hatch to the SUV right as Carl arrived with Brad in his arms. Luckily for them, the rear row of seats was down, and Carl slid Brad into the back area. At that moment, Jim ran up towards the driver side and said, “ok, he is loaded, lower it.” John hit the button again to this time lower the hatch as the crew climbed back in.

“Ok, now let’s get this truck turned around and get the kid. Remember, John drive in fast and straight as possible to the apartment, try to turn the vehicle so the doors can provide some cover as we exit, and remember what I talked about in breeching the house. Jim you stay back this time with the truck. Mike, your third man threw the door, stay in the living room covering Jim,” said Carl. 

John immediately put the truck into gear and gave it enough gas to bounce up and over the center medium to turn the truck back around to head back towards the apartment entrance. As the SUV slammed up and over the eight-inch medium, Brad Senior screamed out in pain. John just shouted back, “Sorry, just hold on.”


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## txcatlady (Sep 26, 2013)

I want more! Loving this. If this were paperback I would keep reading. I am teaching writing this year and I love the way this flows. Exciting and entertaining.


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

txcatlady said:


> I want more! Loving this. If this were paperback I would keep reading. I am teaching writing this year and I love the way this flows. Exciting and entertaining.


Book 1 is now out in paperback... to many requests via my website that I had to spend 2 days figuring out how to format for paperback and still messed it up somewhat :congrat: I'm an idiot :congrat: I'm an indiot :congrat:

anyway thank you!


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

alright... just re-wrote chapter 2 - plus added a lot to it... so here it goes... _* ALSO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE provide feedback about the gun battle*_ - to much, not enough, what ever - this is the first gun battle I have ever wrote, and I am not sure if it is that good.

Chapter 2 - Crashing the party
April 2013
Less than a mile to Brad

"What the hell are we going to do about Brad's dad lying in the road?" asked John as he turned onto Deerfield Parkway, now less than a mile from Brad's apartment complex.

"First, slow down some, so we can think this through," said Carl, as John immediately brought the SUV down to fifteen miles per hour.

"How about a drive by first?" asked Mike, who was seated behind Carl.

"Can't do that, it would take too much time to turn around with these big medians in the road, who knows how far down the next access to turn around would be." said John.

"I have it, here is what we are going to do," said Carl, as he quickly continued, "John as we approach the turn in, I want you to turn off the headlights. Second, ten yards or so before the turn in, I want you to come down in speed to just a crawl. Jim and I will jump out on this side of the turn in, then John go past slowly, once you are ten yards past, I want Mike to jump out. John, you stay in the truck and put it in park so the brake lights don't light us up."

"Ok, so you have me on one side of the gates and you and Jim on the other," Mike replied, still not understanding the plan.
Carl continued, "I want you and Jim to provide cover for me as I run up to Brad's dad. I will very quickly check vitals and attempt to pull him out of the way. Once that is done, then we can all wait for John to circle back around, having us jump in right before he enters the gate. Make sense?"

"Yeah, let's do this," said Jim.

John quickly verified that the interior dome light was off. As he rounded the curve, right before the complex, he turned off his headlights, and let off the gas pedal. This allowed the big SUV's engine's natural idle to slowly pull the vehicle down the road towards the apartment complex. Carl and Jim opened their doors and walked out of the car holding their weapons at the ready heading for their side of the entrance. Once the SUV had traveled ten yards further from the gate, Mike slipped out of the vehicle as well. John quickly slammed the gearshift into park without pressing the brakes, preventing Mike, Carl, and Jim from exposure from the red light that would have come on, while thinking, Cindy would kill me if she knew I just did that to her Armada.

Carl saw Mike come slowly around the side of the fence in a squatting position, the AR15 in his hands sweeping in front of him looking for possible threats. Jim was behind Carl about three feet, covering their side of the road. Carl took a deep breath thinking, slow is smooth and smooth is fast, as he crept slowly towards the prone body lying in to road ahead of him. As Carl reached the body, he thought he saw Brad Senior's chest rise slightly. Very quietly, Carl whispered, "Brad, if you're conscious, don't move, I am here to help you. Lie very still and don't make any noise."

Carl quickly reached for Brad Senior's neck and felt a faint pulse. He slowly reached out and turned Brad over so he was lying on his back. Brad's father looked up at Carl with fear and extreme pain in his eyes. Carl, quickly scanned Brad's body seeing a bullet wound in the right arm and another in the abdomen. He learned forward and whispered in Brad's ear, "Ok, Brad, this is what I am going to do. I am going to grab you, lift you up, and carry you quickly to John's SUV. This could be very painful, but DO NOT MAKE A SOUND, got it?"

"John?" asked a very weak Brad Senior.

"John, as in Skylar's dad, not a sound, got it," stated Carl, wanting to slap Brad for making any noise at all with his question.

Seeing Brad nod his head slightly, Carl slung his AR15 over his back, and then internally on a count of three lifted Brad up in his arms and quickly made for John's truck. Mike seeing Carl pick up Brad Senior instead of dragging him out of the way, immediately headed for the SUV knowing that was were Carl was headed for with Brad. Jim, seeing the action, stayed where he was for a few seconds then slower than Mike started his retreat as well.

Mike wanting to keep silent as possible ran up towards the backside window whispering, "John, open the back hatch, open the hatch, Carl has Brad's dad."

John quickly hit the button to open the hatch to the SUV right as Carl arrived with Brad in his arms. Luckily for them, the rear row of seats was down, and Carl slid Brad into the back area. Carl believing they were far enough away from the rioting crowd said in a normal voice, "guys, Brad is alive. Someone get me my medic bag, and give me a couple of minutes to stop this blood flow."

John having the vehicle in park, reached over and pulled the medic bag from the passenger floor board where Carl had left it, while saying "Jim, I got it, here," as he passed it through the open window.

Carl taking his knife from his front pocket sliced open Brad's shirt to fully expose the stomach wound. He then ripped open his medic bag and took out two of his three Quik-Clot packs. Using his teeth, he ripped open the first pack and poured it straight onto the stomach wound. Next he grabbed an eight inch Israeli Bandage from his pack and started to apply it to Brad with assistance from Mike. He quickly looked at Brad's arm and saw only a single wound, cursing under his breath about the bullet still being in the arm, he applied the blood clotting powder from his second pack of Quik-Clot and then using his other Israeli Bandage from his bag wrapped Brad's arm up. Letting the group know that he was done, John hit the button to lower the hatch as the crew climbed back in.

"Ok, now let's get this truck turned around and get the kid. Remember, John drive in fast and straight as possible to the apartment, try to turn the vehicle so the doors can provide some cover as we exit, and remember what I talked about in breeching the house. Jim you stay back this time with the truck. Mike, your third man threw the door, stay in the living room covering Jim," said Carl.

April 2013
The apartment
John immediately put the truck into gear and gave it enough gas to bounce up and over the center medium to turn the truck back around to head back towards the apartment entrance. As the SUV slammed up and over the eight-inch medium, Brad Senior screamed out in pain. John just shouted back, "Sorry, just hold on."

John swerved the truck into the opposite lane, gunned the gas and the SUV's strong V8 engine shot forward back toward the entrance to the apartment complex. He cranked the steering wheel to the left just touching the brake pedal enough not to flip the vehicle then stomped on the gas again to shoot it forward through the gate. The passenger side jumped up as tire hit the bike that was holding the gate open. John steered for Brad's apartment and said, "Someone check to make sure that bike is still holding the gate open."

Both Mike and Jim looked out their windows trying to see behind the speeding SUV. Mike sitting behind John shouted, "Can't see the gate at all!" While Jim said, "Yeah, it is still holding it."

The black SUV quickly covered the 500-yard distance from the gate to the apartment that was where Brad was located in. John slammed on the brakes and turned the SUV so that the front came around facing back towards the front entry.

Quickly, he reached down, slammed the gearshift into reverse, and backed up close to the front door. As he was putting the vehicle in park Jim, Carl, and Mike exited the vehicle with their AR15s ready for action. Carl and Mike ran for the door. Jim stayed at the SUV, using the open door for protection stuck his AR15 through the open window. John leaving the truck running, opened his door and jumped out in front of Jim's line of fire while running to catch up to Carl and Mike.

At the door, Carl tried the doorknob to find it locked. Cursing under his breath, he told the guys to stand back and gave it a solid kick at the doorknob area. The door gave a loud cracking sound, but was still secure. As Carl was recovering from the kick, John burst past Carl already lowering his shoulder as if he was a linebacker zeroing in on a quarterback. His right shoulder smacked hard into the door with a resounding thud. John's 300 pounds of mass coming at the door was no match for it as it flew open spilling John into the room landing haphazardly sprawled face first on the tile entry floor. Carl said a curse under his breath as he saw John go flying as the door gave, and moved to enter the room passing John, having to assess if the room was empty without John's assistance. Mike came in the door, seeing there was no resistance from within the room to be concerned with, turned back to cover Jim from the doorway. Jim had closed his door and moved up to John's open door was actively watching the crowd that had been breaking into the other apartments across the large parking lot.

Hearing Jim call out, "Hurry the **** up guys, everyone knows we are here now!" John quickly got his feet under him, unslung the AR15, and looked at Carl. Carl said, "You take the upstairs, keep calling out for Brad, and I will search the rest of down here."

As Carl started to go room to room, John took the stairs two at a time.

Suddenly, there was the sound of two reports from an AR15 outside the apartment; neither John nor Carl stopped their search for Brad.

-	Outside the Apartment ¬-
The crowd from across the parking lot stopped raiding the apartments and concentrated on the loud noise coming at them. More than a few of them saw a black SUV come flying in to the parking lot, pull a near perfect U-turn then quickly backup to a door of an apartment across the lot. Seeing four people jump out of the vehicle and three of them rush to the door and burst into the apartment encouraged a few of the rioters to give up on the apartments they had already broken into to see what might be in the apartment across the lot that brought such great attention from the SUV group.

While Jim covered the driver side area of the parking lot, Mike had moved back up to the SUV and covered the passenger side area of the lot standing behind the front door that Carl had left open. "Shit, you see a few of them looking over here?" asked Mike, not taking his eyes off the growing crowd of rioters.

"Yeah, what do you think we should do?" replied Jim as he nervously tightened the grip on his AR15.

"I am honestly, not sure. Maybe a warning shot?"

Without giving a response, Jim took aim at the nearest rioter then moved his aim off and down to the dirt by the feet of the rioter. Taking a deep breath and saying a small prayer he slowly squeezed the trigger, which caused Mike to jump hearing the sound of the AR15 spurt a bullet towards the crowd. Just as fast, Jim pulled the trigger again sending another .223 caliber bullet into the ground at the exact same spot.

Rising up slightly from the gun, he shouted at the crowd, "That is far enough folks, don't come any closer or the next one goes into someone!"

-	Inside the apartment - 
The ground floor of the apartment had an open living space that contained the living room, a small dining area and a kitchen. Along the wall with the staircase Mike had run up, was a door across from the kitchen counter. The wall ran about five feet past the kitchen area making a small dark hallway that ended with a closed door. Carl cautiously approached the first closed door with his back against the wall, while keeping his AR15 pointed towards the closed door at the end of the hall. Slowly, he reacted out and touched the doorknob, feeling it twist he turned the knob and gave a quick shove of the door to open it inward, while turning himself so he entered the room to find an empty half bath. Releasing his breath and taking a lung full of fresh oxygen, he thought, one down, one to go &#8230;I hope.

-Outside the apartment -
After the second shot rang out, the rioter whose foot was almost hit, jumped back while shouting, "Shit, they have guns!"

This caused a majority of the rioters to start heading back to the easier pickings in the apartments behind them. A group of five men, however, ducked down behind two pickups parked beside each other. The first man, named Pete was the self-elected leader of his small gang. Looking over at his neighbor Will and the other three, he said "They have something important over there man, we need to try to see what it is and maybe take it from them."

"Dude, that was a rifle he was shooting, all we have are handguns," replied Will as he pulled an old 357 magnum with a six inch barrel from the waistband of his jeans. The other three guys also pulled a variety of handguns out as well but nodding their head with Will in agreement.

"Hey man, if you're chicken, fine. Go back to picking those empty apartments," said Pete as he pointed to the buildings behind them a semiautomatic gun in his hand and continued, "but I am going where the good stuff is, and to have four guys come crashing in here and hit one specific apartment means that there is something good in there."

Jim had immediately taken aim again with the AR15 as he slowly scanned the area across the parking lot. Mike taking a second from his scanning, out of habit looked over at Jim and said, "Did they all retreat?"

Without turning his head from his scope, or stopping his scan, Jim replied, "Not sure, there were too many of them and I was in the window so I couldn't see the whole group."

-	Inside the apartment -
John slowed as he approached the top of the stairs. The upstairs was dark due to the light not being on, instead of flipping the light switch, John pressed the button that turned on the SureFire light side mounted to his AR15. It illuminated the area showing a small landing area with three closed doors, the first thought through John's mind in seeing the three closed doors was, oh great, followed by eeny, meeny, miny, moe, crap I will just go left to right as he moved to stand in front of the first door to the left.

Keeping the AR15 aimed in front of him, he reached down with his left hand and slowly tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He quickly pushed the door in to find himself blinded by the reflection from his gun mounted light hitting the mirror in front of him. Lowering the weapon and squeezing his eyes shut for a second, he looked back up to find that this room was an empty full size bathroom. Pulling the door shut, he turned and took a deep breath thinking, what in the hell am I doing here? After giving up trying to steady his nerves, he took two quick steps over to stand in front of the middle door, took another deep breath and again failing to calm his nerves, reached for the doorknob with his left hand. As the doorknob slowly turned in his hand, John forcefully shoved the door inward, while stepping fully into what appeared to be a master bedroom. John started to sweep the room from right to left instead of left to right, he heard a loud boom and a felt a searing pain in his right arm almost simultaneously while screaming at the top of his lungs, "Oh shit!"

Unbeknownst to John, Brad had heard John moving around out in the hallway; no one had remembered to have it relayed to him over the cell phone that John and the rest had arrived to pick him up. Fearing for his safety and thinking it was one of the rioters from across the street, Brad had grabbed the Glock 19 from his dad's bedside table drawer and crouched down beside the bed. When the door opened and a large figure stepped in looking to be holding a rifle with a light on it, Brad had fired at the figure.

John's right arm immediately went numb from the gunshot wound and he dropped the weapon he was holding. Screaming out again in pain, he grabbed his right arm with his left hand, still standing in the same spot. At the same time, from down below came the shout from Carl of, "John! John! Are you ok? Is Brad ok?"

John, who had never felt so much pain, screamed, "Hell no, I am not ok! I have been shot!" John's body rapidly started to go into shock. Feeling his knees start to weaken, John put his back to the wall and slowly slid down the wall to the floor.

Hearing the shouted voice call out for John, Brad suddenly realized he had shot John. Jumping up from his hidden position and dropping the gun in his hand, he ran across the room crying "John! Oh, John! I am sorry! I thought you were one of the rioters! Please don't die like my dad! Please don't die!"

Carl made it into the bedroom at the same instant Brad collapsed onto John still crying out, hoping that John wasn't dead. He reached down and pulled the clinging Brad off John saying sternly, "Move away from him, and let me see what you have done."

- Outside the apartment -
Mike and Jim instantly turned toward the door to the apartment when they heard the sound of the gunshot from inside. They saw Carl move quickly into view and then out as he passed by the open doorway and heard him calling for John. Mike looked over at Jim and said, "Should we go in or stay out here?"

Pausing a second to look back across the parking lot at the rioters running into and out of the apartments, some carrying TVs, while others carried food, said, "You go, I will keep watch, I think my shots scared them off."

Once Mike had left his post running into the apartment, Pete, who had been watching them after crawling under the pickup truck, whispered to Will, "Now is the time to get them, one of them just ran inside. You guys fire a few shots at that dude with the rifle, keep his head down, and I will take him out with a straight on attack."

"Ok, dude" was the weak reply from Will as he looked to the other three men with him.

All four of the men raised slightly around the two pickups they had been hiding behind and started to fire their handguns at Jim and the SUV.

The first slug fired from across the parking lot slammed into the windshield of the SUV. Jim, whose attention was still mostly on the door of the apartment thought what the **** was that, as he turned back around a slug hit the door in front of him but not passing through it. Two more rounds skipped off the pavement to his left. Jim seeing the flash from the muzzles of the guns across the parking lot promptly took aim and fired back at one as quickly as he could. His first three rounds went into the never lands, but his fourth round struck true as he saw one figure go down. He quickly drifted his aim to the left and continued firing at where he thought he saw another shot come from.

Will glanced to his left as a spray of mist splattered the left side of his face. One of the three other men that were supposed to be beside on his left was no longer standing beside him. He wiped his face and looked at his hand to discover little bits of white chunks and red blood, Will looked down at the ground to find the body of his buddy laying at his feet with only half his skull remaining. Will turned back to his right starting to throw up involuntarily what little was in his stomach, when suddenly everything went black for him.

- Inside the apartment -
Carl reached out to place two fingers on John's neck to feel for a pulse. Finding a strong pulse at his fingers, he breathed a sigh of relief and thought, thank God! His next step was to figure out where John's gunshot wound was so he could start first aid. Looking for chest and abdomen wounds first, he came up empty. Finally, after also searching John's legs for the wound, he found where the bullet had hit the very edge of John's arm. The wound had a small hole in the front of the arm just to the outside of the humerus bone. Carl gently moved John's arm to find an exit wound about the same size on the backside. Carl went over to where Brad had dropped his father's gun after shooting John and picked it up. Ejecting the magazine, he looked to find round ball 9mm ammunition instead of the more common self-defense hollow point. Having left his medical pack in the truck downstairs, John looked over at Brad, who was sitting at the edge of the bed, his body shaking as he cried quietly to himself.

"Brad. Brad!" said Carl, trying to gain Brad's attention, "Brad, I need you to help me!"

Finally, after a second, Brad looked up at Carl, tears streaked the young man's face. "Did I kill him?" Brad asked in a shaky voice.

"No son, he is alive, he fainted from the shock of being shot. I need you to get up and get me a couple clean wash cloths?"

"Yes sir," said Brad as he stood hastily responding to Carl's request. As Brad started to get them from the bathroom in the hallway, Carl called after him, "wet two of them in cold water."

After a few seconds, Brad returned carrying two wet and two dry white washcloths. Carl took one of the wet ones and started wiping John's face, while saying "Come on John, wake up big guy."

John came around while groaning, "Holy shit my arm hurts."

"Bet it does. Let's get you up on your feet, you have a small gunshot wound to your arm. I want to get you over there," said Carl, point towards Brad's dad's bed, and continued, "I need you sitting up, so I can get this cleaned up some."

- Outside the apartment -
Mike was halfway up the stairs when the gunfight started in the parking lot, stopped mid-step and turned to head back towards Jim to see what was going on. As he ran out the door, he immediately saw a figure running towards Jim from the left. Brining his AR15 up to the ready, he quickly started firing at the approaching figure.

Pete felt the first bullet strike his right thigh. The bullet struck dead center of the leg striking the femur instantly shattering the leg bone causing Pete to lose his balance in mid-stride. As he was falling forward, two more slugs from Jim's AR15 ripped into him. The first hit above Pete's groin simply shredding his intestines, while the last round hit him in the center chest sending parts of his rib cage slicing through his heart. Pete was dead by the time he finished his summersault landing on the parking surface, while his handgun skidded across the parking lot.

First seeing Will go down beside them, then seeing the body of their other friend laying on the ground, and followed quickly by Pete getting slaughtered in the parking lot, the two remaining rioters, without a word to one another, gave up on this senseless fight by running off in different directions.

- Inside the apartment ¬-
John was halfway to the bed, when the gunfight started up outside. Carl quickly ran over to the window to see if Jim and Mike needed assistance. Not seeing Mike, but remembering Mike was supposed to be in the doorway, Carl waited as he swung his AR15 around on its harness getting ready to assist in the fight if needed from the window. Watching from above gave Carl an overview of the battle, he saw Jim's first rounds miss but then zero in on target with the fourth round, and then watched at Jim took down a second target. Suddenly, Carl noticed Mike run from the doorway, take aim, and shoot a rioter multiple times, as the rioter was trying to blitz Jim's position. Seeing that the action seemed to be over as the other two rioters ran off, Carl opened the window and yelled down, "Mike, I need my medic bag that is in the truck, run it up for me!"

"Got it, Carl," said Mike, as he looked up over his left shoulder at Carl in the window and headed for the SUV at a jog.

Within seconds, Mike was up the stairs handing Carl the medic bag. Carl told him to grab Brad and take him downstairs but not to the SUV yet as he turned to start to addressing John's arm to stop the blood flow. Grabbing his last pack of Quik-Clot, Carl applied an ample amount to both the entry and exit wound, then using a roll of gauze and some tape, since he was out of Israeli Bandages, he wrapped John's arm.

After Carl had John bandaged up, he gave John a hand to stand up and said, "You ready to get the hell out of here?"

"Hell yes. Let's go home."


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Chapter 3 – Deception within the ranks
April 2013
United States Penitentiary Atlanta
Sighing as he eased himself into the chair, Warden Crowne looked at his team sitting around the conference table. Pausing to take a second to say a silent prayer, he hoped God understood the action he was about to announce, finally he announced, “Ok, Tony, Shawn. I spent most of last night thinking about what you said. I talked to my wife about it, while I held my sleeping daughter in my arms. Although this will probably damn my soul to hell, I have to agree with you guys, taking the head off the snake may save more lives than the ones we will be killing.”

Oh shit, thought Sam as he listened to his warden lay out the death sentence on Caesar Rodriguez, Jack Simon, and their known lieutenants. His mind continued to race as thoughts of how can I stop this, I can’t let Caesar be killed, and I have to get word to him. None of the others sitting at the table noticed the nervousness being displayed by Sam as his right leg started to bounce up and down. 

“Warden, we can’t kill prisoners,” stated Eddie.

Shawn swung around to his left to face Eddie giving him a questioning look and saying, “Why the hell not, Eddie?”

“You would be no better than them. It is a mortal sin, for God’s sake!” responded Eddie in utter disbelief that these men 
were going to commit the same crime that put the condemned men in this prison. 

“Eddie, the world is no longer the same that it was last week or a month ago. If we let these scumbags out, all they will do are riot, rape, and kill. Only difference between what is going on in our streets now and once we release them is it will be ORGANIZED!” said Shawn, pointing out the truth to Eddie.

“You really think that killing these men will stop the rioting going on now? That it will help in anyway, whatsoever?” replied Eddie, amazed at the naivety of Shawn’s comments.

Jumping into the conversation, Tony replied, “It won’t stop the riots we are hearing about outside these walls, but at least they won’t become organized, targeted by these two men. You know, as soon as we let these to animals out of their cages, they will immediately start to organize the rioters into a gang. Once they have built up their numbers and are in complete control of the gang, they will carve up this city, and make life even more miserable for those who are just trying to survive. Look Eddie, I don’t want to kill anyone either, but this is the only option I can see that keeps them from taking control and organizing a large gang.”

Understanding all the points Tony was making, Eddie still wasn’t ok with the act of killing another human. “I just can’t partake in this,” as he turned to look at Warden Crowne, he finished with “I just can’t Paul.”

Raising his hand, Paul looked at Eddie, knowing the torment and conflict Eddie was feeling as he was too. Inside Paul had raged a private war of right or wrong over the past several weeks as they discussed and debated the ideas of letting the prisons go free or locking them down to starve the prisoners in their cells. Calmly, he spoke, “Eddie, I know what you are going through. Trust me, you won’t be pulling a trigger. I will. I am the Warden, I will do the deed.”

“It doesn’t matter who pulls the trigger, Paul! Don’t you get it? It is a sin to kill another man! Thou shalt not kill!” angrily retorted Eddie, as he rose from his chair. Continuing, he said, “It’s a sin! S. I. N.” as he slammed his hand down on the table with each letter. “It’s a deadly sin! How can I make it any more clear for you! I will not let my soul go to hell, just because you, you and you,” as Eddie pointed to each man, “think by killing these men it will aide those on our streets! Your all nuts! F*** it, I quit!” 

Paul rose out of his chair at the last comment; he tried to move towards Eddie, while saying, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! Calm down, please! I need your help here, you can’t quit on me.” Eddie actually walked towards Paul as he went to exit the room. The other men sat and watched as Paul reached out to grab Eddie’s arm trying to explain how important he was to his team, when Eddie screamed, “Don’t touch me, I told you I quit!” and proceed to throw a quick left hook, catching Paul square in the chin. Because Paul was still standing in front of his chair, when he was struck by the punch, his feet got tangled in the chair and he with the chair toppled over. Before Tony or Shawn could react, Eddie ran from the room.

Sam was the first to Paul’s side giving him a hand up and stated, “He’s right you know.”

Pulling his hand away from Sam, Paul glared up at Sam, spitting out icily, “Yeah, but unfortunately, we have no other choice do we?” 

Stunned at the response from the Warden, Sam backed off trying to help Warden Crowne up. He slowly stood back up and wiped his hands as if wiping dust off them. Looking back down at the Warden and then at both Shawn and Tony, who both had closed in to assist Warden Crowne to his feet said, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t, but if I asked you to give me a day to try to think of something, would you?”

All the men turned towards Sam at his comment. The Warden, knowing both Tony and Shawn would start debating him, said quickly, “Sam, if you really think you can find a solution to the issue, in one day. Just one day, I will listen to you and consider your alternative to my decision. However, tomorrow at 1 p.m., I will be executing them if you can’t find a better way.”

Both Tony and Shawn started to object, but Warden Crowne raised his voice of them saying, “What the hell is one more day going to hurt guys? If we can find a way to keep them secure, away from the public, and keep them alive, what the hell is that going to hurt?”

Shawn looked down at the Warden shaking his head. In all the time he had worked with the Warden, he had never seen him flip-flop on decisions like those that he had over the past week. Losing some faith in his boss, Shawn said, “How about this? If you we don’t resolve this by 1:30 p.m. tomorrow, I will walk out the door like Sam just did. I have been helping keep these animals secure, while my wife and kids cower at home in fear, while I am gone from them. Not with them, not protecting them like a man, husband, and father should. Instead, each day, I show up here, working for no pay, except some meager rations that you hand out at the end of the day. Paul, we have worked together a long time, I trust you with my life. But after tomorrow, I can’t, I have to protect my family.”

Before the Warden could answer, Tony chimed in with, “me too, warden. Me too. Carol practically begged me not to leave the house this morning. Tomorrow will be my last day here too.”

With that both strode from the room, leaving Warden Crowne still sitting on the floor and Sam standing there looking at the stunned warden. “Sir, I will do my best to find an a way to secure them, yet keep them alive.”

Starting to stand, Paul replied, “I hope you do, I honestly hope you do.”

April 2013
Situation room
President James Westfield strode into the situation room three minutes late. The first black president of the United States looked as if he had aged ten years over the last six months. President Westfield had been a first term Senator from Illinois when he decided to run against the previous administration. Appealing to both parties on several campaign promises, such as, lowering the deficit, working to create a transparent government, and restoring bipartisanship between the parties, he won the 2008 election in a landslide with unequalled votes from all parties, including a majority of the independent voters. 

The 2012 elections, however, saw a completely different story. Where he could claim bipartisanship won him the 2008 election, in 2012 he had to depend on just his party’s voters. This time the President’s campaign was not ran on reaching out to both parties since his previous four years in office had been a complete opposite direction that originally brought out so many different voters for him. Instead, he ran his campaign on the fear of losing entitlements. That the other party wanted to cut budget spending, reduce special programs, change the new national health care program that was going to start more than a year after the 2012 election, and simply put get off the gravy train making people work. With eleven states having 51 percent of their population on some type of special assistance program or entitlement, and four of the states being among the United States’ largest populated. Not to mention the fact that in thirty-five states having welfare pay more per hour than minimum wage, the other party had a slim chance of winning as droves of those on the system supported their free rides. Immediately after the election and a mere four months ago, the leaders of countries around the globe had met privately over a secure video conference with the president and his advisors. The video conference was the announcement by the leaders of the other countries had finally decided that the United States had maxed out their credit. The other leaders would be moving to replace the U.S. dollar with a new world reserve currency in six months. Even through the plan by the other nations gave six months warning, the mounting debt, free fall valuation of the U.S. dollar, and along with several terroristic attacks on U.S. soil caused this timeline set by the other nations to be drastically reduced. While all focus on by the U.S. government was on their current economic crisis, no one was sure exactly the impact of the hurried timeline had on the other nations. Simply put, no one in the administration cared to find out.

The attendees in the situation room all stood for the president as he approached the high-back black leather chair at the head of the conference room. Everyone took a seat after President Westfield sat down and opened the three inch binder that was on the table in front of him. Briefly glancing up at the members of his staff, he said “Let’s get started. General Breamhall, you first.”

General Breamhall was the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The always-present cigar held between his index finger and middle finger, this one unlit, moved up and down as he looked up at the president in surprise. Clearing his voice, he said “Mr. President. I am not sure what you would like for me to report on.”

“What I mean General is I want to know the status of our armed services. Who is where, what is available, what is being done to protect our country, should I keep going on for you?”

“No sir. Everything is status quo with every branch in the service. We hav…” 

President Westfield interrupted with a shout of “What do you mean status quo? Nothing is just status quo any more, look around you, open your eyes!”

“Sir, what I meant was that every service person and piece of equipment that was stationed in a foreign nation is still there. We have seen no incidents of aggression, nor are we currently concerned of potential aggressions against us,” retorted the five star General as he leaned forward toward the president.

“What about the National Guard, sir?” replied the president.

“Well, prior to coming over here, I spoke with General Leaf briefly. All of the state governors except it seems Alaska and Hawaii have called up their guards to help protect and control rioting in the cities,” said the general as he reached forward to grab his water glass.

“Ok, I will return with a couple of statements for you in a moment General,” said the president, he turned next to Janet Garbo, the head of the Department of Homeland Security and new chief of the Federal Burouro of Investigation. “First, tell me how the department migration is going, Janet, and then give me an update on the state of our security.”

Literally beaming at the president, Janet said, “Yes, sir. Mr. President, the migration of bring the FBI under the house of DHS is going somewhat smoothly. We are currently reviewing their operational procedures, locating overlaps and such. I figure within the next three months, we will have cut any dead weight from the staff, and be fully migrated.” Janet paused slightly to take her own sip of water, then continued, “As for the state of security of the nation, under your decree of executive orders, we have started gun buy-back programs in several states. As I suspected every in every red state, the governors are refusing to assist us with our programs.”

“Janet,” interrupted the president, “why are you running gun buy-back programs even in the democratic states?”

“Well sir,” said Janet, as she paused to think of the best politically correct response, “Even in the blue states, citizens don’t want to voluntarily give up their guns. I expected this from the red states, we even talked about this issue. However, the same is true in the blue ones as well. So, the..”

Interrupting again, the president said, “Janet, it is the law of the nation. These are laws that I put into place through executive orders with guidance and input from you. I was hoping… No, I want these guns collected, any means possible, am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. But..”

“No buts, Janet. Make it happen, in all states, blue, red, green, or yellow. I don’t care what you have to do to convince the citizens that their firearms are illegal, but make it happen!” The president next moved on to hear from Tom Snider of the CIA, who explained the increase traffic coming out of Europe about financial strains to each government in the European Union. Basically, the president blew off the talk about the E.U. simply in spite that they were the ones who cut off the United States credit and help push the U.S. dollar off the world reserve currency pedestal. 

The president turned back to General Breamhall stating, “General, let’s move back to you and then we can end this meeting.” 

“Mr. President, I need to speak to the cabinet,” came a voice at the end of the table.

President Westfield was one person who did not like to be interrupted looked down the table spotting the face at the end of the table that normally was not at these meetings. Aggravated at the interruption, the president identified Howard Tuft, the department chairman for the U.S. Energy Department. “Mr. Tuft, what a pleasant surprise, what might you have to report to us today?” questioned President Westfield in a deadpanned voice.

“Well, Mr. President, I know that I normally don’t attend these cabinet meetings unless called upon, however, today I needed a way to inform you of some pressing matters,” stated Mr. Tuft. Mr. Tuft was a small thin man wearing a dark navy suit, white shirt, and red tie. While he was the chairperson for the U.S. Energy Department and sat on the president’s cabinet, he typically did not attend, nor speak at such meetings unless spoken too. Having him show up, interrupt the president, and say the words pressing matter, meant that something was indeed wrong.

Even the president realized for this man to be so bold in his actions, that he had something important to say, in a complete change of attitude towards Mr. Tuft, the president said, “Go ahead Howard, we are all listening.” 

“Thank you, Mr. President. With the on going… how should I say this? Uh.. Economic down turn. We are seeing across the country vital resources being effected.”

“Such as?” prompted the president.

“Well sir, employees at water treatment plants, nuclear energy facilities, etcetera are not showing up. General maintenance is not happening due to lack of funds or resources. Also, if the general maintenance is not performed at the nuclear facilities and water flow is interrupted we could have a massive problem on our hands. I am afraid, sir, that we may soon see rolling black-outs… er, disruption in water and power services some temporary some permanent all across the country.”

“Great!” said the president sarcastically followed with, “well can’t you force the workers to show up?”

“How sir?” asked Mr. Tuft stunned at the thought of making an employee show up against their will to work. 

“I will show you,” said the president, turning he looked at General Breamhall, “General, I want you to officially call back all U.S. military personnel that are stationed overseas. I want all military equipment and other resources brought home as well. Next, I want you to take control over the National Guard if you have to. I want them divided into three equal groups per city. The first group will ensure that workers of water and power plants are able to get to and from work, even if they have to personally walk them at gun point to get them there and back. The second group will work to maintain control using any force necessary to disperse any attempt to riot by local citizens. The last group, I want to work hand in hand with DHS, the ATF, as well as local and state police departments to start removing all illegal weapons.”

Dumbfounded at the requests, General Breamhall just stared at the president for a full minute. The ever present cigar held steady, unmoving in his hand. Finally, the general found his voice and said, “Sir that is impossible. Do you realize the resources it would take to move all the…”

Interrupting the general, President Westfield stood, while slamming his hand on the conference table and shouted, “General! I am giving you a series of orders. I will give you two weeks to start making progress! If I don’t start seeing results, YOU!” the president pointing at the General, “will NOT be sitting in that chair! You will be out sitting in a rocking chair beside that idiot Bruce Williamson!” 

With that said, the president turned and stormed out of the conference room.

From across the table, Janet Garbo just sat smiling at the General. He looked at her and thought one word, bitch.


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## AttilaAnn (Oct 31, 2013)

Read your first book in the Oh shit series, and am disappointed the next one is not ready. DRATS. This one is looking good though. Since you said you have not done editing yet, I thought I would offer my two cents. 
1. Suggestion of minor editing to 2nd word in the first sentence of the last paragraph.
Change disturbed to broke
John disturbed the silence in the truck when he asked Carl, what his thoughts were to best approach Brad’s apartment. 

2. Carl mentioned hand signals which is often discussed in survivalist/prepper type books. But NO ONE seems to cover a few of the basic, most common signals. Could you include a few of them? I like to learn some "stuff" as I am entertained and I notice that you include a lot of that good general information which is GREAT. Oh, and another thing you do well is to provide references to good sources of information - like the SAS Handbook. Keep it up.


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## Cabowabo (Nov 6, 2012)

http://www.militaryfactory.com/5-star-generals.asp

Invision, Great reading so far. But the General Breamhall would only be made a 5 star general in a time of war. There have only been 5, 5 star generals in the history of the United STates. Hope this helps


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Cabowabo said:


> http://www.militaryfactory.com/5-star-generals.asp Invision, Great reading so far. But the General Breamhall would only be made a 5 star general in a time of war. There have only been 5, 5 star generals in the history of the United STates. Hope this helps


Well it is Fiction! Lol.. Thanks for the heads up... Will make a change


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## Dixie (Sep 20, 2010)

This has been a long two weeks....How long until the next chapter?


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Sorry, I have been side tracked by a client project. I will have more up ASAP


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## Wanderer0101 (Nov 8, 2011)

I think you should abandon everything else and just finish the second book. I'm eagerly awaiting downloading it to my Kindle.


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Wanderer0101 said:


> I think you should abandon everything else and just finish the second book. I'm eagerly awaiting downloading it to my Kindle.


Sorry - sales are/have been good, but the royalties won't pay the car notes or the house payment - so I can't become a full time author... although I would LOVE IT, if I could... perhaps a bunch of you could start sending emails to Penguin Group??? Same place A American is at?!?!? :2thumb::2thumb::2thumb::2thumb::2thumb:


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## OdieB (Mar 18, 2012)

I know you haven't edited your work yet - but try to replace "your" with "you're" where appropriate. Also they went "THROUGH" not "threw"

Consider changing "addressing the wound" to "dressing the wound. It makes me think Carl is 'starting a conversation' with Johns arm.


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

OdieB said:


> I know you haven't edited your work yet - but try to replace "your" with "you're" where appropriate. Also they went "THROUGH" not "threw"
> 
> Consider changing "addressing the wound" to "dressing the wound. It makes me think Carl is 'starting a conversation' with Johns arm.


LOL, yep, it will need copy edited for sure. This time the copy editing will be better.

A little story about the last book. I hired a professional copy editor to do The Awakening. To keep costs low ($40/hour), she red lined everything the old fashion way, because it is quicker - aka less labor intensive that going through word with track changes turned on. So, I get 480 printed pages back completely filled with red ink marks all over them. I then went off to the mountains in NC on my anniversary and sat in front of my laptop for three 12 hour days looking from paper to computer and back trying to make all the changes... I wanted it released so that I could give it away on 9/11 - well I got it released with a ton of errors. Spent two weeks going through it again after all the complaints rolled in, trying desperately to fix it all.

This time, I promise that it will get edited via word's track changes. - makes it easier on me and a much better product.

I never really cared to much when reading other books about Grammar - that is until I had to do it myself for my own book...


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## Caribou (Aug 18, 2012)

invision said:


> I never really cared to much when reading other books about Grammar - that is until I had to do it myself for my own book...


I never really cared too much, when reading other books, about grammar -

Sorry, I couldn't resist. :teehee: Seriously though, after reading posts for years the grammar doesn't bother me much. I get far too much pleasure tearing an author apart for technology errors. A friend of mine is a writer of westerns. He says his biggest complaints are about getting something wrong about the guns.

Thanks for sharing with us.:2thumb:


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

That is true, in book 1 I had main character's daughter who is 14 call a magazine a clip on purpose, and the main character corrected her next paragraph... 3 freaking emails - you need to learn about guns if your gonna write... I replied back - read the next paragraph... I got 1 oh I am sorry, jumped the gun, no pun attended...


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## Cast-Iron (Nov 8, 2013)

Interesting read. I am not trying to nitpick here, but I did notice a couple of typos in the first post: waist not waste, and hairy not harry. You do have a gift for storytelling though. Thanks for sharing!

From post #12: it is through and not threw.....over the center median not medium.....it has been my experience is that they are usually referred to as Federal penitentiaries and not US penitentiaries

From post #16: companies, agencies, or whatever when merged is usually referred to as being integrated and not migrated


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Cast-Iron said:


> Interesting read. I am not trying to nitpick here, but I did notice a couple of typos in the first post: waist not waste, and hairy not harry. You do have a gift for storytelling though. Thanks for sharing! From post #12: it is through and not threw.....over the center median not medium.....it has been my experience is that they are usually referred to as Federal penitentiaries and not US penitentiaries From post #16: companies, agencies, or whatever when merged is usually referred to as being integrated and not migrated


Thanks... Like I said, it is first draft. The manuscript will be sent off in a few weeks to the copy editor and hopefully she will pick it apart for all of the errors... Everything you mentioned is one of the bad things about MS Word... There their they're argh! LOL


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## Cabowabo (Nov 6, 2012)

Do you have a possible/hopeful release date for book two?


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Cabowabo said:


> Do you have a possible/hopeful release date for book two?


Hopefully next month... But I have been slammed this month with 2 new clients and a new project for an existing client, so less writing has been done. Heading to NOLA this next week, so hoping to have 5 good writing days in a row which will catch me up. Latest would be January.


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## mojo4 (Feb 19, 2012)

invision said:


> Hopefully next month... But I have been slammed this month with 2 new clients and a new project for an existing client, so less writing has been done. Heading to NOLA this next week, so hoping to have 5 good writing days in a row which will catch me up. Latest would be January.


Yeah i hacked his computer and read it. It was good.


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## gilacr (Dec 30, 2013)

I would first like to thank you for such an outstanding work. I have read the book twice so far and look very forward to the next book in the series. I really enjoyed the character development and especially the fact that the main character is just an average Joe and not a super soldier. 
Also, thank you for using this web site in the book. I doubt I would have found it otherwise.


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## CrackbottomLouis (May 20, 2012)

I also can't wait for the second installment.


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## Cabowabo (Nov 6, 2012)

I was walking into work the other day and I couldn't help but thinking when is this next book going to be published? I mean Winter is a little over half way over . Hope you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy new year but man your killing us with this waiting lol.


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Sorry guys, I stopped writing book 2 for a personal reason in December, I actually picked it up today and started re-reading what I have written thus far, and will be back at it this week.

Before you guys slam me, let me explain. "Cindy", which is the main characters wife, was named after a lady who I called my second mom for 40 of my 42 yrs of life. At age 3 yr old, instead of calling her Cindy, I called her Mom two and have since always called her that. This wonderful lady helped raise me - watching over me from when I was in the crib to age 8 every day M-F during the school year as my mom and dad taught school, she was also a beautician and was the only lady to ever cut my hair from the age of 1 until I moved to Atlanta in 1998 at age 27... Every Mother's Day, since moving, I have sent a single rose to her, made sure I either talked to her over the phone or sent a hand written letter to her at least once a quarter since 1998.. Even Christmas cards to her - which she is the only card I send out too in 42 yrs of life - including my parents who I see every Christmas Day so there is no need for a card to them. 

Anyway, after fighting cancer, having multiple heart attacks, a bypass, being an extreme diabetic, and having been on dialysis for the last 2-3 years, she had another massive heart attack while on the dialysis machine... the doctors could not operate due to all the other complications (diabetes, kidneys, etc)... After a series of additional mini-heart attacks and what they think was a stroke, her husband ended up having to take her off life support. - I found out via a message from her son that night.

While, I took to the air immediately to fly home for the first time in six years for her viewing and funeral - and while sad at the loss, I felt comfort to the fact that my Mom #2 was no longer in pain... Seeing her son, a long friend and someone I consider my brother growing up, wasn't hard either... But it was her husband's comment that "I had made her year when she saw her name in print, that for weeks after receiving a copy of the book, she was on top of the world as if no medical issue bothered her, and that both of them loved me as if I was their own kid" - I lost it... Then coming back home and typing Cindy over and over, has just been to much for me. 

I promise, I will punch it out as fast as possible, but I have needed this break, I know all this sounds freaking stupid, but it has been like losing my actual mom or dad for me,


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## Cabowabo (Nov 6, 2012)

Hey Invision,
Take your time coming back to it. I'm sorry for your loss and that of her families. Hope ya'll are ok. She seemed like a nice lady, and from what you just said a very tough lady.


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## CrackbottomLouis (May 20, 2012)

Prayers and well wishes sent


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## rogersn67 (Feb 5, 2014)

I just finished reading "Oh Sh!t book 1" It was a great read, and I hope you publish the next book soon. I will be patiently waiting for the release. Thank you for book 2! Thank you for your hard work!
RSN


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## chappykpitts (Mar 28, 2014)

Just finished "The Awakening" and was hooked. There was enough 'fact' to set the groundwork to make the fiction that much more real. left witha big cliffhanger and had to find the rest of the Brad story. I am going to work through the few chapoters posted here and then wait patiently for the ebook release. I have family in the Atlanta area and my stepson just lost his job 2 weeks before their first baby, so writing this I am in their basement in Tucker. finished reading the first book while waiting for our grandbaby. 

Keep up the good work.

Chappy


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## Cabowabo (Nov 6, 2012)

Hey Invision,
I hate to bother you sir, but any updates?
Thank you


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## invision (Aug 14, 2012)

Cabowabo

Not really any updates, because life has thrown a series of monkey wrenches into my writing and personal time. First was the death of a dear friend (John's wife was named after her), the lady was my "2nd mom" which really messed with my head every time I tried to sit down and write - typing Cindy this or Cindy that brought back memories of the real Cindy,.. then came my wife taking a new position/promotion within her company - meaning she now travels extensively - example - Ft Lauderdale last week, Boston this week, Ft Lauderdale the week after, home a week, then reverse it (Boston, FL, Boston, home) - so I have been adjusting to being a single dad In a way... plus my freshman daughter made varsity track team, so extensive practices and events last three months, and of course to add on to all this my business picked up with 3 new clients - without active looking - implementing entire new infrastructures for each and now first week of May I am headed in for the first of a series of surgeries - gee fun... However, the itch to write is never left - I just have been to darn busy with personal crap, however, the last three days I spent re-read entire progress on book 2 and Tomorrow, I am actually going to be punching the keys...

My biggest mistake was giving an estimate for book 2, never in a million years would I have thought all the crap that has happened over the last 5 months would... Nor did I expect the success of the first book... Being a heavy reader myself I am always waiting on the next novel from my favorite authors. And I hate the waiting game... I know above sounds like a bunch of excuses, but 


This space for rent.


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## ZangLussuria (May 25, 2012)

Stray strong invision.
No pressure from us.
Yours and Cindy's family are in our thoughts and prayers.


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## Beau_Geste (May 18, 2014)

Hey Invision,

After I read "Oh Shit! Book 1" to say the least I wanted more. But I realize that Mr Murphy has a hell of a sense of ha ha so as Heinlein wrote...

"If you happen to be one of the fretful minority who can do creative work, never force an idea; you'll abort it if you do. Be patient and you'll give birth to it when the time is ripe. Learn to wait."

So take your time and get it right.


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## flagtag (Oct 6, 2011)

Great story so far! Looking forward to the next installment. 
I pray that things balance out for you soon.


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