Friday, January 27, 2012


The White Rose....

With its pristine appearance, the white rose has come to symbolize purity, innocence and secrecy. There are myths and legends from several different cultures relating to the origin of the first rose which is initially white in color and is then miraculously transformed. Oftentimes the pure white rose was depicted as being stained by blood, or made to blush from a kiss. The recurrence of this theme does a great deal to establish the white rose as a symbol for purity.
The main protagonists are David Hunter, Robert E Lee Melton, Mr. Big (Mark Alexander) and General Conway.

The character of David Hunter is a latter day Sam Adams - Father of the Revolution.

Robert E. Lee "Bobby" Melton represents the American sense of adventure and fearless unconventional thinking.

Mark Alexander, a billionaire, the money man and brain of the revolution.

General Conway, the professional head of the U.S. military, "The Man On Horseback" with the power to make or break the revolution.


I arrived there early in the morning after an epic road trip across much of the USA hunted by the dread Secret Service (SS). "There" being Galt's Gulch Colorado. The Rocky Mountains surround the Gulch and only a few know the narrow dangerous gravel road into the mountain fortress. After miles of white knuckle driving threading carefully around hair pin turns the driver comes to the golden dollar sign marking the entrance. The road improves from gravel to a well built four lane road...
I discovered Galt's Gulch by way of a conference with Mr. Big of the vast right wing conspiracy. I should note that Mr. Big really is a large man over six foot tall and three hundred pounds. We met years ago by way of Emails and phone conversations but this was the first time in person. Mr. Big is a man of about 55 years who was once a criminal lawyer and state judge in Colorado. The face reminds one of Sir Winston Churchill in his prime and the love of a good cigar and fine brandy reinforces that opinion.

The location picked by Mr. Big was the restaurant of a ski lodge near Aspen, Colorado. I was instructed by email to introduce myself to the manager of this establishment and ask to be directed into his presence. This was done and within minutes I was shown to his table in a private room with large picture windows with the Rocky Mountains framed above and the ski slopes below. I don't think I've been in more beautiful or expensive room in my life. I was dressed in my traveling clothes - blue jeans, sweat shirt and boots. Everyone else at this establishment was dressed to the nines, especially the staff who treated me with the respect given to a rich Saudi Prince with a limitless bank account. In marked contrast my bank reserve was down to the last hundred bucks.

I followed the manager, a man that reminded me of a young David Niven complete with an English accent, over to Mr. Big's table (I should note Mr. Big was typing something into a laptop computer and didn't see us enter) and he made the introductions, "Mr. Big, this is your friend, David Hunter. Mr. Hunter, this is Mark Alexander, who is called "Mr.Big" by his friends and enemies. Mr. Big is a former Colorado state judge, lawyer and real estate baron. Mr. Hunter this is your menu and you can select anything at no charge. I'll be back later to take your order. How about a drink now? This is our wine list. Choose anything. No charge."
"This being Colorado, I'll take a Coors beer."
"An excellent choice, sir! I'll send the waiter with a bottle immediately."

Mr. Big put away the laptop and looked at me across the table and said in an educated Western voice , "Hunter you look so damn common. You could be most men in this country of your age. I like that."
"Why so?"
Mr. Big answered, "Because the people who count in this country want a seasoned citizen as a leader. They would suspect a young man of having personal ambition. A man of 50 something years would come across as a leader with only the best interests of the country at heart. You'll do."

"I'll do as what? I'm down to my last hundred bucks and have no job, no home and I'm on SS arrest immediately roster. Do you have a job and a false identity in mind? Like you say, I can pretty well fit into any job."
Mr. Big looked at me with pale green cat eyes and said, "The job I have in mind for you is the organizer of a revolution to overthrow the federal government. I think you have built the best resume of anyone for the job over the last fifteen years with your difficulties with the Secret Service, prison, parole and surviving on less than nothing has served to train you as the best right wing revolutionist in the country. You have a fire in your belly! I know this from reading your blog articles and talking to you over the phone. You are like Sam Adams in the First American Revolution, the spark that will light the fire. I have vast wealth from my days as a real estate developer and a circle of friends here in Colorado with millions more all over the country, but all our wealth and power cannot do the job that needs to be done. We need you. This meeting can be the start of a Second American Revolution. What say you?"

The waiter appeared with my Coors and Mr. Big went silent. He took the cigar out of his mouth and took a gulp of his brandy. The cigar was returned and he took a deep pull on it and exhaled a cloud of smoke. I take down about half the glass of Coors, my throat suddenly dry. Mr. Big stared deep into my eyes, into my very soul.
"I agree. But only on the condition that I am, indeed, the CEO of the revolution. I don't want find out later that I have to report to some sort of committee or be overruled on any matter. If you agree and provide me with a large budget I can start a revolution, and God help us all."

Mr. Big was silent for a moment and then he began to clap his hands and said, "Bravo! Bravo!" with a big smile.
"I like your style. No hesitation. No speech. No demand for a salary and perks. Just a simple acceptance and one key condition. Yes, you will be the man. No one will second guess you; there will be no committee looking over your shoulder. The buck ends on your desk. I only ask that you provide an account for the funds expended. The funds available for 'Operation White Rose' are considerable, but not limitless..."


From the movie script: “The White Rose.”

Scene: Winter Park, Florida in the early evening just after a thunderstorm has cleared the air and cleaned Park Avenue, the main street. This is a beautiful, upscale town in Central Florida that could be taken on a village in Ohio were it not for the palm trees.

The camera moves up the street to focus on a middle age man with grey hair sitting at an outside table in front of Starbucks drinking coffee. The man is dressed in tourist style wearing a loud shirt, short pants and tennis shoes. He has a black backpack sitting in the chair opposite him and is giving a map of the local attractions his full attention, but on occasion looking up and down the street as if looking for someone.
A young 20 something woman with an olive complexion and dark hair walks into the Starbucks to buy a cup of coffee. She returns outside and meets the man's glance with steady brown eyes. The woman is well dressed in professional fashion and has long hair neatly tied into a pony tail. She wears no jewelry aside from a small golden “Star of David” that hangs from her neck.

The woman walks to the man's table and pulls a white rose out of her small purse and places it on the table in front of the man while looking quickly at the people drinking coffee around them to see if anyone takes note. No one does.

Hunter: “The white rose is a symbol of liberty.”

Woman: “The white rose also represents the timeless values of Western Civilization.”

Hunter: (Standing)“You must be Fanny Kaplan.”

Fanny: “At your service.You're David Hunter.” (They shake hands)

Hunter: “Please have a seat.” (He moves the backpack off the chair)

Fanny. “Mr. Hunter you've become something of a legend; I half expected not to meet anyone here this evening.”

Hunter: “Please call me David...Very likely I'm a disappointment to you. I'm very plain and common. People seldom remember my face.”

Fanny: “I never judge a book by its cover.”

Hunter: “I'm impressed by the large number of female revolutionists I'm meeting on this trip to Florida.”

Fanny: “We should let the guys have all the fun?” (She smiles briefly and her thin face is much improved) “As you are aware Mr. Bernstein couldn't make it tonight due to a family emergency.”

Hunter: “Not a problem. The money and instructions are in the backpack. Tell Bernie to destroy the instructions after reading.” (He passes the backpack to Fanny)

Fanny: “Funny how life turns out – Three years ago I was a wall flower of a conservative Jewish girl from Miami and today I'm a radical in the Jewish Defense League involved with in a conspiracy that could land me in a federal prison for the rest of my life.”

Hunter: “I'm a bit of a history buff – Didn't a Fanny Kaplan try to assassinate Lenin during the Russian Revolution?”

Fanny: “The Fanny Kaplan you're talking about was indeed one of my ancestors. She was a Social Revolutionary who tried to kill Lenin because he betrayed the revolution – Also Lenin turned out to be a raving anti-Semite. Tell me David, are you and your right wing pals anti-Semites? How many Jews get shot after your revolution?

Hunter: (Taking a sip of coffee) “My people aren't in the habit of killing our allies.”

Fanny: (Looking at him with doubt) “Mr. Bernstein thinks you and your wild bunch are good people. I respect his opinion, after all he's been a member of the JDL longer than I've been alive.”

Hunter: “Bernie and I go back a long way – He was my cellmate in the federal GULAG back in the 1990s. I believe Bernie got a three year sentence for owning automatic weapons.”

Fanny: I believe his words were to the effect that you are a Righteous Man. This is high praise for a man who has few Christian friends.”

Hunter: “Thanks for the kind words.”

Fanny: “What about the weapons?

Hunter: “Bernie will have to brief you on the details, but let your heart not be troubled – On Revolution Day your JDL chapter will be well armed and equipped.”

Fanny: “How do you know I won't take the money and run?”

Hunter: “Because Bernie is your favorite uncle who raised you and your sister and you love him. Also you're a devout Jew and stalwart supporter of Israel. Bernie talked about you quite a bit in prison. He called you Fancine..”

Fanny: "I hate that name! It's so French! I much prefer Fanny."

Hunter: "Well this ends our business this quiet evening. I have a train to catch just up the street at the AMTRAK station. (Ronbo rises and throws away his coffee cup and exits the outdoor cafe. Fanny follows his lead)

Fanny: "Do you mind if I walk with you to the train station? I have some questions?"

(They walk down Park Avenue. The economic bad times are displayed even here with about half the shops empty and locked. The rest display sale signs to invite the few customers still available.)

Hunter: "I'll be glad to answer your questions, but you may not like my answers."

Fanny: "Do you have a favorite philosopher? I'm working on my Ph.d. in philosophy at Rollins College. My favorite philosopher is Ayn Rand."

Hunter: "Dear was Ayn Rand, but dearer still is the truth."

Fanny: "Why do you say that?"

Hunter: "In ATLAS SHRUGS, Rand's greatest book, she does a very good job of playing the prophet and predicting exactly what is happening today, which is an economic and political meltdown to leading to socialism, yet she misses the fact that America was born in revolutionary war and cut its teeth in the most destructive civil war in modern history. In Rand's novel the opposition simply drops out; in reality we revolutionists will dropping in like a ton bricks on many a traitors' head."

Fanny: "True. America is in at least VERBAL revolt even as we speak - Just go into any public place and hear O'Hara being cursed to the high heavens! If the Secret Service arrested everyone who has threatened to kill O'Hara, they would need to jail about 150 million people...One more question...The Regime intends send the Jews to concentration camps.

Hunter: "I think that is a statement. Yes, they hate Jews, the religious Jews like yourself and your uncle, but since many of our American socialists are Jews. I would call them "equal opportunity tyrants" like the Communists in Russia during Stalin's time...He who is not with us is against us."

Fanny: "David...You didn't answer my question."

Hunter: "Yes, our current president's SS has already started quietly arresting key Jewish and Christian leaders. They are being sent to a closed Cold War spy base in the Aleutian Islands on Shemya. Again, I think I'm simply giving you conformation about that you already know."

Fanny: "Then we have to act before we are all arrested and can do nothing!"

Hunter: "We will act...soon."

Fanny: "The White Rose movement in Germany were all arrested in 1943 before they could make a serious move against the Nazis..."

Hunter: "I'm aware of the mistakes made our brothers and sisters in Germany. One major error was to think the Nazi regime could be destroyed by a reverse of public opinion against the Nazis by means of getting the truth out. We modern day White Rose Americans are not so idealistic to believe that public opinion alone can change things in this country. This is the reason I gave your JDL group the means of self defense against tyranny.

(They walk through a small city park to the station and the waiting train.)

Hunter: "I'll say goodbye and good luck to you Fanny Kaplan. I am curious about something - how do you square being a Jew with being an Objectivist - a follower of Randian philosophy - Ayn Rand was an atheist."

Fanny: "Simple. I'm born into the tribe of Israel and like Ayn Rand I'll always be a Jew. Like you too, David."

Hunter: "I see you have been talking to Bernie - Yes, my mother was a Jew, but I was raised in the Southern Baptist Church."

Fanny: (As steps on the train) "Say what you will, but a Jew always knows another Jew, and so does the Secret Service."

(The train pulls out of the station and Hunter takes a window seat as the AMTRAK pulls slowly out of the station bound for Orlando. He waves at Fanny who smiles and gives him a military salute. The conductor motions for David's ticket and he pulls the document out of his pocket along with The Star of David.)



[The following reprinted with the author's permission from his best seller, "The Big Three Who Made The Revolution"] plain English the coded email from David Hunter read something like, “Meet Mr. Big of the vast right wing conspiracy at the penthouse on top of the Contemporary Hotel at Disney World in Orlando, Florida on the day after Christmas. Please dress in casual attire and brings lots of sun tan lotion for a week of sun, fun and plotting revolution. The tab for this working holiday will be picked up by Mr. Big.”
I should introduce Mr. Big (Mark Alexander) to the readers….well…I’ll share what little I know about the reclusive billionaire who, according to Hunter, owns directly or indirectly about half the real estate in the far West of the USA. Mr. Big is self made man, an orphan who started his business career at 17 years old with little more than a much read copy of Ayn Rand’s THE FOUNTAINHEAD in his backpack, who after only a few years of old fashioned American hard work and careful investments, became a millionaire before he turned 21 and a billionaire before he became 40 years old.

Mr. Big used his great wealth for many years to support conservative political candidates, right wing radio talk show greats like Rush Limbaugh and Libertarian think tanks. In the South and West, Mr. Big was very successful in political terms: The Republican majority in Congress that lasted for over ten years between 1994 and 2006 was financed by Mr. Big who channeled the funds by means of third parties while he remained deep in the background.

Interestingly, Mr. Big did not support George W. Bush in 2000 and 2004 because he considered Bush an opportunist with no core conservative values who could have just as easily ran for office as a Democrat. In this, as in many things political and business, Mr. Big was dead on target, as GWB’s big spending policies and endless compromises with the Democrats resulted in the growth of the federal government to a gigantic size never before seen in the history of the human race.

The federal government had become a leviathan by 2008. The ministers of this creature were an army of 5,000,000 bureaucrats working for regulatory agencies who spread their tentacles into all aspects of civil life in the formerly Great Republic. As if this swarm on federal agents were not enough to drive the average citizen mad with regulations and fines – An enforcement division exists of agencies like the FBI, BATF and Secret Service (feared by millions as "The SS") backed by the majesty of the federal court system to bulldoze into submission any private citizens thinking…well…patriotic thoughts like how much this “American Empire” was beginning to look like the British Empire of George III.

The Rubicon for Mr. Big was crossed with the election of Obama as president along with a majority Democrat Congress. He understood that the machinery of tyranny had already been created over a period of 70 plus years; all that was needed to end freedom in America was the election of a collectivist president like Barack Obama; a foreign ruler to his country like the great dictators of history: Napoleon Bonaparte, Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin; a ruthless man who would lead the greatest champion of liberty, and the world’s last best hope, the United States of America to ruin.

Thus Mr. Big settled on the radical idea of revolution – a Second American Revolution that would destroy the old regime root and branch – a violent uprising that would see massive destruction, famine and death in its wake, but would free America from tyranny. Some would argue that the cure was worse than the disease; Mr. Big would respond that if the patriots did not act and act soon, the evil empire of federalism would crush the lovers of liberty under the iron yoke of collectivism; that in short with the election of Obama revolution by the left had already been released against the American People, so what they did in defense of freedom was proper constitutionally and necessary even if it included a first strike against oppression.

Mr. Big was good at many things and a genius at business. Alas! He was not a revolutionist. Therefore, he asked trusted members of his staff to come up with a list of ten right wing revolutionists. When his staff produced a list of ten names, Mr. Big told them to cut it down to five. When the staff after much research gave him a list of five Americans with proper rightist revolutionary credentials, Mr. Big send it back to them with a request the five names be reduced to one name. The name they came up with was David Hunter. This met with the approval of Mr. Big who arranged a meeting with Hunter, a man of the shadows, professional revolutionist, leader of The White Rose movement, ex-con and failed presidential assassin on the run from the dread SS

The two revolutionists met high in the Rocky Mountains at a ski lodge owned by Mr. Big in the late fall. On the one side was a nearly penniless vagabond hunted by the long arm of the dread SS secret police and a multi-billionaire no one suspected of any misdeed. The details of this meeting will no doubt go down in the annals of American history like the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but the long and the short of it was that the Man and the Money had finally come together: Separate the duo was impotent against the new evil empire; together they were the authors of destruction and creation.

The Second American Revolution was born!

Where do I come in? Simple. I was recruited by Hunter. We are friends from way back. As part of the agreement made by Hunter with Mr. Big all major players in the game of revolution must be interviewed by him. This is not done for the purpose of supervision, Mr. Big has total faith in Hunter's selection of fellow revolutionaries, but rather to improve his education; after all, the nuts and bolts of revolution are not taught in any class and no owner’s manual exists with a series of steps mapped out that will bring life to the machine. No each revolution is different and unique – Once they occur the mold is thrown away.

I’m thinking these thoughts while my plane was nearing Orlando, re-reading the dog eared book I wrote on Hunter many years ago while he was a federal prisoner. I was looking for some insight that would explain the why Hunter became a revolutionist. Sam Adams, for example, very likely turned revolutionary the day the British government seized his father's business. But no such event marked the life of Hunter. In fact, he had been well rewarded with many decorations (that included the Medal of Honor), rapid promotions in the U.S. Army (At the age 26 he became Lt. Colonel) and was on the fast track to the generalship and Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff.

Yet in 1998 David Hunter threw his future away by plotting a coup that allegedly included the assassination of President Clinton....

We break through the clouds and began a long slow circle over central Florida; a region of blue lakes bounded by a vivid bright green. In this section of Florida the water seems to be as well represented as the land and I remember this part of the state is only a few feet above conquest by the Atlantic Ocean. The leftist environmentalists claim watery Florida will sink into sea before the end of the 21st century; however, like all claims made by the leftists this one is false as well.

At last the plane begins its final approach to Orlando International Airport and as we descend I can’t help but think of Wagner’s “The Ride of Valkyrie” with myself as a sort of war god reporting his master at Valhalla. The hatch of the sky machine is popped open and along with several hundred other former inmates of the big iron bird, I walk to the tram that takes me to escalator that takes me down to the baggage area. I find my one suitcase and walk out to find transportation. The weather is perfect, but I break out in a sweat in tension while walking to the taxi stand only a few feet terminal building. The taxi driver is from Jamaica but has lived in Florida for many years and knows the Orlando, Florida area as well as he once knew Kingston, Jamaica, his hometown.

After about a 20 minute trip down I 4, we turn off on the Disney Exit. The taxi driver, Ben Stafford, according to the license displayed on the dashboard, changes his channel to talk of Disney, “Did you know Disney World has the same land area as San Francisco?” I find facts like these to be very informative, since this is my first trip here. I notice that parallel to the roadway is the monorail line where a train is running at about the same speed as our taxi. We reach the main gate and we are quickly waved through in special lane for buses and taxis. The Contemporary Hotel looms up a few minutes later – It is built in an “A” frame style with a monorail line going through what is called, "The Grand Canyon Concourse" about four stories up.

We pull up to the ground transportation entrance where I say goodbye to Ben; he of the British accent, smiling black face graced with beautiful white teeth and large hand I place a generous tip and cab fare. I march into the Contemporary to the front desk. I present my documents and I.D. to the very pretty blond receptionist who says, “I’ll contact Mr. Alexander immediately and a security host will be here shortly to escort you up to the penthouse. Would you like a drink while you wait?” I order a Tom Collins that appears in the company of a beauty queen waitress who asks with a sweet Georgia peach accent, “Could I get you'll anything else?”

I resist the obvious reply. Also, she is young enough to be my daughter.

No sooner do I down the T.C. when a 20ish handsome young man in a blue blazer introduces himself as my security guard escort to the penthouse and Mr. Big. We walk a short distance down the lobby to the elevators where the security guard uses a special key to open an elevator. While we are entering, a mother with small child in hand attempts to enter. The security guard stops her and states, “Sorry lady. This elevator is for the penthouse only.” The woman turns away but a little girl of about six years asks, “Does Mickey Mouse live there?” The security guard beams at her as if she was the most important little girl in the world and says, “No, sweet one. Mickey Mouse lives over in the Magic Kingdom. You and your mommy can visit him at his house. This is your special ticket to see him,” and hands her a ticket. The door closes and I tell him I’m impressed with his professionalism and kindness. “This is what I’m trained to do here at Disney World. We hosts are always on stage and in character.”

In seconds the elevator flies up to the penthouse. The doors open to reveal a smiling man decked out in butler attire who asks me to follow him into an ultra modern and lavishly expensive room with picture windows looking out over the Magic Kingdom. The man departs, although I don’t notice because the view of one of the world’s most famous amusement parks is awesome and leaves me short of breath. “I’ve noticed the scene before us has the same effect on most other people who have never seen the Magic Kingdom; they are speechless for a moment,” relates a voice at my back. I turn around and a very large man offers his hand, “I’m Mark Alexander. You must be Robert Melton. Hunter has told me much about you. Would you care to have a seat?"

" We’ll talk revolution.”



[From the movie script: "Treason In The White House]

[Scene: A large well appointed conference room without windows. The walls are paneled and bare. In each corner various statutes of Napoleon Bonaparte. The floor is covered wall to wall brown carpet. In the center of the room is a large table with thirteen executive chairs, twelve of these chairs run the length of the long table with one chair at the head, A black man and woman walk into the room. The black man is in his mid 40s, well dressed and handsome. The woman is attractive is an understated way and dressed in a conservative business dress. The man speaks...]

Man: "Phoebe, I hope you understand that today you'll be witness to a historic meeting that will change the course of American history."

Woman: "Mr. Nightlinger, every single day working at the White House is a historical day that I in my humble little role as a speech writer for the president gets to witness."

Nightlinger: (He pulls out the chair at the head of the table and sits down. Phoebe remains standing in an almost military state of attention.) "Very soon the president of the United States will sit in this very chair and conduct the conference. Our jobs are to supervise the taking of notes and the video taping. I trust you have engaged the best and most security conscience White House staff for this morning's meeting? I want no lose lips!"

Phoebe: "Indeed, I have....with the approval of our Czar of Intelligence & Security, Mr. McKenna of the Secret Service."

Nightlinger: "Well, if McKenna approves of the staff, I have no worries...In fact. come to think of it, I've had few worries since the two of you came abroad early in the Administration. I have always said that the key to the success of any executive - be it White House Chief of Staff, or the manager of any Walmart - is his selection of the right subordinates...." (a loud buzzer stops the lecture. Nightlinger rises from the chair and wipes it unnecessarily wipes it down with his clean white suit handkerchief.)

Nightlinger: "The two minute warning has sounded. Please take your station in the control room. I don't have to tell you to keep things on track - I've never known you to make a mistake. Are you Mary Poppins? The perfect worker bee."

Phoebe: (smiling) "No, Mr. Nightlinger, I've made more mistakes than you can count on this job! But I've had the good luck to be able to correct them before you can see them. I learned this valuable lesson early in life from authoritarian & controlling U.S. Naval officer of a father who often mistook his children for his sailors. I suppose it's like learning to ride a bicycle as a kid - once you learn how you never forget."

Nightlinger: (looking very serious) "The other thing I like about is your honesty. I doubt even the president would tell me to my face that I'm a "controlling & authoritarian" person. Of course, this was the reason he wanted me to be his Chief of Staff - the SOB who keeps the troops in line for the commander-in-chief. (a Secret Service agent appears)

SS Agent: (a young fit man in his late 20s with military style authority in his voice) "This room must be secured for DOG SOLDIER immediately." (Phoebe walks quickly to the room exit and disappears)

Nightlinger: "Phoebe, have the transcript ready for me to read before you leave today."

[The conference room is slowly filled with hard faced middle aged men and women who first exchange greetings with Nightlinger standing by the door, who hands them each a document they begin to read when seated. This is clearly an agenda for the meeting. The room is silent except for the brief soft words of Nightlinger and the guests at the door. A low rattle of papers being read is heard as well. The guests do not make eye contract with one another; all attention from them is focused on the document for many long minutes. The same SS agent as before steps into the room and speaks...]

SS Agent: "Ladies and Gentlemen! All rise for the President of the United States of America!"

[A small intense man in his 30s with dark hair walks quickly into the room. First Nightlinger, then one after another of his guests begin to applaud loudly and cheer, "BRAVO! BRAVO! WELL DONE!" in unison. This is done by all except for a tall handsome grey haired man on the president's right in his 50s who rises to his feet last and only makes the motions of cheering the president, who takes notice and orders everyone to take their seats]

President: "McKenna, do I notice a lack of enthusiasm from a project that had much input from you and your Secret Service?"

McKenna: "I hate to be the skunk at a garden party, but there are too many things that can and will go wrong. The universe is simply too large! This project will involve the actions by hundreds of millions...and if there is one thing I've learned in decades of watching and reporting on my fellow Americans to the leaders of our nation is that the actions of a signal individual cannot be predicted 100%...I recall my experience with a certain Colonel Hunter..."

President: "We are not talking about the action of one man in Operation Blue Zephyr, which I agree cannot be totally predicted, but the actions of masses of people given the right signals by their leadership. This was proven by the Bolsheviks in 1917 - reduce the country to anarchy by the selective use of force and propaganda, then conduct the coup and overthrow the government."

McKenna: "I would point out the obvious that we are the government."

President: "This is the genius of the plan. Even the most hardcore of the Tea Party Movement would believe a president and his own Administration would commit suicide."

[The conversation is interrupted by a large beautiful black woman on the president's left]

Woman: May I interrupt Mr. McKenna for a moment, Mr. President? As the Minister of Propaganda for this government and long time Progressive, I must say my shop has well prepared the American public for Operation Blue Zephyr in my own "Operation Overload" during which we literally flooded the Media and Internet with lies, disinformation and rumors. The latest polls and computer models show that while upwards of 85% of Americans oppose a Socialist America, they are hopelessly confused on now to oppose a coup to overthrow the last sacred cows of white middle class democracy..."

President: "Thank you, Ms. Lopez. And let me do a shout out for the excellent work the Propaganda Ministry has done in military terms, PREPARE THE BATTLEFIELD. The concept, of course, was mine alone, but you have acted well as my agent and only improved the plan."

[The guests pound on the table briefly and "Hear, Hear, The Lady" is spoken aloud in unison except by McKenna. Lopez smiles in thanks and says a soft, "thanks."]

McKenna: "Don't get me wrong, Mr. President, and comrades in the People's struggle against capitalism. My record will indicate that I have worked all my life for The Revolution starting as a teenager. Indeed, it is my love for socialism that makes me advocate caution. The opposition has recently created "The White Rose" movement that..."

President: "You have already briefed me on The White Rose! What can they do in the little time they have left before The Revolution? A gang of pimple faced school girls and boys led by a few reactionary conservative professors at a certain Florida college, the name of which is too unimportant even for me to mention? They write idiotic emails and hold angry meetings! The SS knows their names, addresses and can arrest them any early morning at 3 a.m...The snake has many heads, but I have many snake hunters with sharp knives."

[A college professor intellectual looking elderly man raises his hand like a timid school child asking for permission to question the teacher. The presidents nods his approval]

Man: "I think there are a few latecomers to this revolutionary government who don't know I'm Soloman Horowitz - the Minister of Academia. It is true, Mr. President, that 90% of Academia is in agreement with The Revolution and will follow your lead in that direction. However, Minister McKenna does raise a valid point about "that certain southern college" known as Rollins. It is also known as the "The Harvard of the South," and has been become since the appointment of its new president, a sort of "college in exile" for politically incorrect teachers fired from other venues of educations. It was in this hot bed of insurrection against the established academic order that The White Rose was born under the professorship of Edward Danowitz, a conservative Jew..."

[Horowitz is interrupted by a loud voice that brings general laughter, including the president]

Man: "Somehow I knew a Kike was at the heart of our troubles."

Horowitz:"Mr. President I really must protest the display of Anti-Semitism by FBI Minister Sullivan! I am Jew! I am the son of a famous New York rabbi! I'm an educated man and author! I demand an immediate apology from....this...former ALTAR BOY who got sacred wine drunk on Sundays with the priests..."

[The President only smiles more broadly]

Sullivan: "Cool your jets, Moses! You're with good comrades! And I called him a "Kike" - not a Jew. I've often heard Progressive Jews like yourself denounce the little "Kikes" who only worship the golden calf of capitalism..."

Horowitz: [rising to his feet in anger and pointing a finger] "SOLOMAN is my name! Mr. President, I ask this RACIST and bully boy be removed IMMEDIATELY from your government!"

Sullivan: [A large man with ugly face now also standing] "If you're not a money loving capitalist pig, me calling you a KIKE shouldn't bother you! Mr. President, I request this cappie piggie oinker and SPY be immediately DISMISSED from your government and..."

[The small angry Horowitz races around the table to confront the equally red faced Sullivan and the two men square off for a fist fight. The room dissolves in hoots of laughter that brings tears to the eyes of the President, who is handed a tissue to wipe his eyes dry by Nightlinger.]

President: "Gentlemen! You cannot fight in THE WAR ROOM!"

[The room dissolves into more hoots of laugther]

[U/I Voice]: "The President played by Peter Sellers to the Air Force general and the Russian ambassador about to get in a fist fight over spying in The War Room scene in Dr.Strangelove."

President: "I loved that movie....Down boys! I hope everyone here knows that during the Clinton and Obama Administrations this White House basement conference room was well known as "The War Room."

[More laughter...]

President: "Who says Leftists have no sense of humor? And without the liquor, dope and dancing girls! [Stronger laughter] But enough comedic relief....On page three of the document relating to Operation Blue Zephyr, I open the floor to a brief discussion to the proposed "Night and Fog" presidential decree and..."



[Reprinted with author's permission from his award winning "factual" novel, "Chess Masters of The Second American Revolution" by Chris Griswald.]

After arriving in Orlando the day before by AMTRAK, Hunter, feeling exhausted had immediately checked into an extended stay executive motel on Major Blvd., only a few blocks from Universal Studio. He had used one of his many fake I.D.s - this one under the name of "Leon Czolgosz." who hailed from Chicago. The Latin American looking clerk remarked after deducting the room charges for the next week from the Bank of America account of "Czolgosz" said in Spanish accented English, "If you don't mind me saying so, but your name reminds of an historical person, but I can't think of that person..."

"I'm sometimes told I look like Sam Adams with a short haircut."

"People say we all have a double," said the handsome 20ish clerk as he finished the rental protocol and handed Hunter his electronic room key for room 101. "Reynaldo" (according to the name tag) explained "The Executive Room" Hunter had just engaged was equipped with a fully stocked bar and a refrigerator with basic foodstuff like eggs and bread. The meal could be prepared in the kitchen of the suite, where the daily maid service cleaned up the mess at no additional charge.

With the motel check-in ritual finished, Hunter picked up his small suitcase to go to his room and, hopefully soft bed, when Reynaldo spoke, "Mr. Leon (he didn't even attempt "Czolgosz") I must warn you that Homeland Security has been very active in the Orlando metro area this week. It would appear they have rumors that Islamic terrorists plan to suicide bomb an attraction like Disney or Universal Studios. Some of our guests have been stopped and searched on the street in front of this motel. I thought I should warn you."

"We live in interesting times, Reynaldo."

"What you say is a Chinese curse...This I learn in my history classes at the University of Central Florida."

"I look at these troubled times as a challenge. The good times make us soft, the hard times make us hard. The end result is a superior person. But always remember what the poet said about the bad times: 'There will be better times than these'...Good day, Reynaldo, and please do not disturb! I'm beat."


The bed was clean and comfortable and the room as quiet as the morgue. Hunter sank into pleasant coma dream sleep and spent the hours with Gisela. Of course, he knew she was dead, but he wasn't about to tell her. In the dream that took place on a lake somewhere in central Florida, the two lovers spent a perfect lazy Saturday day sailing with "Skipper," Gisela's white poodle who loved the water and barking at the birds above and the hidden fish below. It was a winter day, very likely in February, when the weather is almost picture perfect under clear blue skies, so unlikely the hot and stormy summer months.

Gisela was the sailor in the family, learning the craft as a young at the lake in Wannsee in West Berlin where she grew up in the Cold War years of the 1970s and 80s, the daughter of a Berlin policeman with pronounced anti-Communist views and many friends in the American military community. After moving to America, Gisela was to say to her new Florida friends, "I may have a German accent and never been to the USA until recently, but I was born in America." Then she would go on to explain that she was born in the U.S. Army hospital in Berlin when her mother unexpectedly went into labor on a city bus stopped in front of the ER on its route. The Army medics quickly moved the new mother-to-be from the vehicle to the maternity wing where she gave birth to a very unhappy red little girl with good lungs.

The new father, Karl Steiner, was on duty at his police station as desk sergeant busy booking a drunk, when an American MP rushed in with the happy news that he was the father of a healthy baby girl and offered him a ride to the hospital in his jeep. It is recorded that Karl did not immediately rush out to be with wife and baby (Karl was a GERMAN policeman, after all!), but finished booking the drunk, although he did miss taking the bottle of vodka out of his pocket, much to the enjoyment of the man's new cellmates in the drunk tank.

Thus Gisela Steiner was born on the same day the American army rolled across the border into Cambodia in a surprise attack. This invasion would set off years of Communist terrorism, in West Germany and the American Sector of Berlin. Karl Steiner rose in police rank rapidly to be commander of Terrorist Squad. It was due to his effective leadership that a serious plot by Baader-Meinhof gang to blow up the EM Mess Hall along with scores of American soldiers at Andrew's Barracks was stopped. A grateful U.S. Army decorated officer Karl Steiner with "The Freedom Medal" and gave him a well paid civilian job as "Police Liaison Officer" - the de facto Chief of Police for the American Sector of Berlin with control over both the American Military Police and the German Polezi.

The new job was a great boon to the growing Steiner family already well staffed with three young boys and baby girl in another important way - the U.S. Army gave the family a large rent free three story house only three blocks from Andrew's Barracks. It was the house on Kattenweg (Street of the Cadets) where that had formerly been the resident of the commanding Berlin Brigade U.S. Army general. Hence, in this beautiful home Gisela grew up to the bulge calls that heralded the raising and lowering of the large American flag on its flagpole in front of the headquarters building. It was in this former nerve center for Hitler's personal bodyguards that Gisela's father and the American bird colonel in charge of Field Station Berlin at Andrew Barracks had their offices.

Gisela was always a "Daddy's girl" who at age nine begin to accompany her father to his office at the headquarters' building several times a month, and became became a well known German friend at the various units stationed at Andrew Barracks for next decade. Hunter remembered the day they met at the in the Orderly Room of "Company A" Field Station Berlin on a cold January day in 1989...

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!" Hunter's rational mind screamed at him. "You're setting yourself up for a drunk! The woman is dead for well over a decade? Do you think she'd want you to drink yourself to death? Now get your crap together dog soldier and have a long hot shower topped off with a good breakfast. Then get dressed! As the poet said, you have miles to go before you next sleep."

With marching orders given by his hardcore commanding officer of the rational mind, the sometimes irrational former colonel did as directed: A hot steamy shower and shave in the well equipped bathroom. This was followed by a rendezvous with his favorite southern breakfast cooked to perfection by "Chef Hunter" in the suite's super clean kitchen using the food stocked there by the motel. The meal was topped off with several cups of an unknown coffee - but excellent coffee - thoughtfully provided at the push of a coffee maker button after water was added to the coffee maker. Then came dressing for the meeting at Disney with Mr. Big and Bobby Melton. This was to be Florida tourist casual - loud shirt, shorts and tennis shoes.

Hunter checked the time - 0900 - which was several hours before the meeting. He turned on his laptop, but the motel's advertised high speed internet connection was not connecting. Hunter then went to Plan B for getting online and plugged in the device needed to hook up to the Net by means of the cellphone signal. No dice! The next move was to turn on the television. Nothing but snow and the hiss of electronic nothingness.

"I'll have to check with the front desk," thought Hunter who stepped out to an empty and silent corridor.

The door to the suite opposite his was jammed open a few inches by a towel that could indicate a quick departure by the renters. Hunter proceeded to the front desk that also had evidence of a rapid exit, complete with a telephone off the hook. He picked up the instrument and attempted to made a call, but the phone was dead as a door nail.

"It's been a long time since last we met, Colonel Hunter," said a familiar voice from behind his back.

Hunter turned to see two men well dressed in an expensive dark blue business suits. The older of the two looked in his mid 50s with impressive grey hair. This man somewhat resembled Martin Sheen in his younger days. The other man looked about 25 years old with blond hair and deep blue eyes that stared by Hunter with the intensity of a cobra about to strike a victim.

"I believe this is the part where you read me my Miranda Warning...Except the last time you arrested me, you didn't, senior SS agent McKenna," Hunter said to the older of the duo, completely ignoring the younger man, who could have been cast as a Nazi commander in a World War II movie.

"Colonel Hunter, REALLY! The court ruled that it was hardly necessary, since as a commissioned officer the Army of the United States, you were well aware of your constitutional right to remain silent, and that you chose to waive this right and confess your crime to me."

"That was a damn lie! And when you gave testimony of that lie at the trial, you committed perjury.. so go arrest yourself...or maybe the young Storm Trooper on your right can do the service?"

Both men had a hearty laugh, "See, I told you Colonel Hunter had a fine sense of humor," said the older man to the younger man.

"McKenna you well know that Congress stripped me of all ranks, pay and allowances after my conviction for an alleged attempted assassination of President Clinton in 1998. I'm just a private citizen now and your boss, so I'm telling you and junior G-Man here to get lost!"

McKenna and the young SS agent chuckle at this remark...

"Let me introduce my associate, Agent Smith. Officially he's head of the Presidential Bodyguard, but I'm afraid he spends most of time guarding and advising me."

The blond man nodded his head briefly to Hunter.

"I need no introduction - I'm John Francis McKenna - the man who arrested you in the winter of 1998 - I wore blue and you were dressed in U.S. Army green. This was fortunate, because your facial color turned quite green and thus you were color coordinated..."

"Nice job you did here this morning at the motel. Did you have everyone arrested and send them to to the concentration camp at Shemya?"

"Really! Don't you think that would be a bit much? No, the guests are outside patiently waiting for the building to be searched for an IED planted by Islamist terrorists...You did notice we shut off all communication with this motel and the outside world? I didn't want a helpful soul advising you in advance..."

"Okay, okay...put the cuffs on and take me away! Enough with the cat playing with the mouse before the kill!"

"But Colonel Hunter, I haven't decided yet to arrest you...Where are you going?"

"One more step towards towards the door and I'll shoot you dead for attempting to escape, " said SS Agent Smith, while pointing a gun at Hunter's back as he walked to towards the exit. "You are a convicted felon and suspected terrorist, after all..."

"He means it, Colonel...Stand right where you are!"

Hunter stopped, turned around and faced Smith who said, "Assume the position" - The position being leaning against the corridor wall on his hands with feet separated. Smith put his weapon away and professionally patted down Hunter, finding only a wallet and room key magnetic card. These items he handed to McKenna who looked at the Illinois Driver's License.

"Leon C-z-o-l-g-o-s-z (spelling the name out) How do you pronounce that, Hunter?"

"Just like it sounds," said Hunter now facing the two men again.

"Like I said before, you have a fine of humor, Colonel," McKenna hands the wallet and room key back to Hunter.

"Leon Czolgosz (Hunter pronounces the name as "goats") name was on the social security card birth certificate, so I couldn't very well use 'Smith' at the downtown Chicago DMV, now could I?"

"Of course not! Smith is already taken,!" remarked Smith with a smile.

The trio fall silent for a moment. Hunter glanced at the exit door out into the people free parking lot where only silent cars wait patiently for their owners.

McKenna broke the silence, "Don't even think about it colonel, the entire block has been evacuated...This is assuming you aren't hit by one of Smith's fifteen bullets, which is highly unlikely..."

Smith pulled out his service weapon and once again points it at Hunter, as if to make McKenna's point clear, as if it weren't already.

"Okay McKenna, what's the name of the game this morning? I see several options: 1. You have Smith to murder me and call it self defense, or any number of things. Number two you arrest me and I disappear forever to a covert federal concentration camp somewhere in the world - the last thing you people want is a public trial...."

"And behind door number three?" McKenna was smiling.

"You let me go."

"Why would I let you go after years of chasing you all over the world? I will admit that having you in custody is like having a wolf by the ear, not easy to hold him, but you don't dare turn him lose."

Smith interjected, "What Hunter means to imply is that if he's allowed free run, we can follow him and find out in identities of his co-conspirators. Then one fine morning we arrest the whole bunch in one fell swoop."

"But Smith we have tried that for years! Our dear Colonel has made that almost impossible by his anonymous cell operation. As is well known, the traditional organization of revolution, done for many years by the Communists, is to link the underground cells by a top down chain of command. This means that if the top leadership is arrested and interrogated, they will give away the entire network. Yes, we can arrest and interrogate the colonel, who no doubt knows some important leaders, but what then? Yes, we can crush a few cells in the resistance...maybe a dozen -but what about the thousands we don't know about that are acting independently..."

"Get to the bottom line, McKenna! The tourists want to get back to their rooms," said Hunter.

McKenna pulls out a electronic pipe and begins to smoke. The pipe products a pleasant cherry smelling odor. He thinks for a moment and speaks.

"The bottom line is that I want to talk to you. If you refuse to chat, I will have no other option than to make you disappear. No. not into the grave. I find killing my opponents to be the worst use of them. For one thing, in my line of work you never know when they may come in handy for something."

"Smith - if that really is your name - are you hungry this morning?"

"Not in the least."

"Then put the gun away before I make you eat it."

McKenna turned to the younger man, "Put the weapon away, Agent Smith. The point has been made and made...Gentlemen please follow me to the executive lounge just down the hallway."


The executive conference room was a darkish affair filled with comfortable chairs looking out to a glass picture window that framed a bright tropical garden with a fake waterfall. On one side of the room is a well stocked Continental breakfast. Agent Smith quickly grouped three leather bound executive chairs around a small round table facing the picture window. The three men take seats with McKenna on the side facing the garden with Hunter opposite. They are only seated a short time when an agent with a laptop style backpack hands it to Agent Smith and disappears.

"How do you SS guys, do that? Suddenly appear? Did you get the transporter from Star Trek?"

"Rather like you, Colonel Hunter...A few days ago you were spotted in Kalispell, Montana and yesterday you suddenly pop up in Orlando, Florida. I don't know the details, but I'm told it has something to do with the coming revolution."

Agent Smith is putting the contents of the backpack on the table while McKenna speaks. The first item on the table is an automatic pistol, next up are several passports from different countries, I.D. cards and driver licenses from various states, several stacks of $100 bills, an extra ammunition clip, a Dell laptop and a small first aid kit.

"The only item I don't understand is the first aid kit. I mean after you shoot them with the .45 hollow points, I think you'll need more than a few band aids to piece the meat back together again."

"Agent Smith, as one who has had considerable experience with automatic pistols, you should be aware that the slide on this model sometime cuts the hand if the weapon isn't held properly."

Smith expertly clears the weapon by first removing the magazine and pulling back the action. This produces a small bullet that falls to the floor that he picks up. Smith returns all the items to the backpack and zips it up.

"Didn't anyone tell you that ex-cons like yourself are not allowed to own firearms? This is a violation that carries five years in prison..."

"Smith, please hand the bag to Colonel Hunter. After all, it is his private property....for now."

A different agent appears with a large black bag and hands it to McKenna.

"I want you see my portable chess set." He unpacks the chess board and pieces with careful hands. When the installation is complete the custom make board and Ivory hand carved chessmen are a thing of great beauty.

Hunter makes a low whistle, "Very impressive, McKenna! I bet it cost you a mint! I must give the devil his due - Any serious chess player would kill to own this set."

"Would you like to own it, Colonel? If you beat me two times out of three games, the chess set is yours...and being a generous soul, I'll let you walk out of this motel a free man with a 24 hour head start to anywhere in the world you care to go....Otherwise, I will tell Agent Smith to put on the cuffs and you disappear to the subarctic island named Shemya, where to date no prisoner has returned."

"I accept...I think you're having some fun at my expense, but I'm curious to see if I can beat you. I'm a good prison trained chess player."



"The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power. Not wealth or luxury or long life or happiness: only power, pure power. What pure power means you will understand presently. We are different from all the oligarchies of the past, in that we know what we are doing....Power is not a means, it is an end...The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power."

[Transcript excerpt from the interrogation of Henry McKenna by Major Lars Olsen of the U.S. Army Military Intelligence at Ft. Meade, Maryland recently released under the Freedom of Information to Fox News.]

Olsen: I hope you have been comfortable here at the Military Prison at Ft. Meade. The Commander of the Armed Forces, General Conway, has ordered that all high ranking members of the previous regime detained by the U.S. Army be treated the same way as captured foreign enemy officers under the Geneva Convention.

McKenna: I have no complaints. My cell is quiet and comfortable. The food is good. I get an hour of exercise every other day that I spend jogging around the indoor track. I have access to any book at the University of Maryland library by simply making a request to the prison officials listing the author and title published more than ten years ago. I do not have Internet privileges, or the right to correspondence by snail mail, and I'm not allowed newspapers or magazines.

Olsen: How about the guards? Do they treat you badly? Any complaints?

McKenna: There was one incident when I first arrived here six months ago when a sergeant verbally abused me and slapped me in the face. I did not make a complaint, but the next morning the bruise on my left cheek was noted by the Duty Officer who asked me how this happened. I told the truth and I have yet to see that sergeant again. I hope he wasn't punished, I certainly forgive him.

Olsen: The soldier in question was given a Field Grade Article 15 by the installation commander that included reassignment to the infantry and reduction in rank to Specialist Fourth Class.

McKenna: I'm sorry to hear that he suffered on my account because six months ago I needed that slap on the face...

Olsen: You had a religious conversion since you became a prisoner. I would like to briefly discuss this issue with you, as it speaks to your veracity in this interview.

McKenna: First of all, let me say that did not come to Jesus to escape earthly punishment. I have come understand that I am a traitor and this carries the death penalty under the U.S. Constitution. I fully expect to be executed by the Military Police after these interrogations end and my courts martial is concluded. I come to Jesus only because I understand my days on earth are few and I was a sinner who needed forgiveness. I asked to see the prison Chaplain who showed me the road to Salvation and gave me the King James version of the Bible to read. The Lord forgave me and I'm reborn. It is a simple and complex as that...

Olsen: What denomination are you?

McKenna: I've come home to the Roman church - my mother was Catholic who had me baptized soon after my birth. My late father, "The Chief" as I always called him, and as you are no doubt aware, was very far from the Lord. In fact, he was called "Big Brother" by more than a few. Anyhow, shortly after the blessed event, he refused to allow us to attend church, or even to mention the Lord's name in our home. I grew up an atheist...

Olsen: The bug in my ear from my technical people in the control room behind us are telling me that you are speaking the truth. You are aware that everything you say can be verified by technical means?

McKenna: Technical means that were no doubt SS inventions. This is so ironic! In the words of Shakespeare,
There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows,
Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,
They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way
And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
For 'tis the sport to have the enginer
Hoist with his own petar; and 't shall go hard
Olsen: Excellent blank verse. The lines are from Hamlet?
McKenna: Yes, and they concern the Danish Secret Service agents Rosencrantz and Guildenstern who are executed by the English on the request of the King of Denmark by way of a forged letter written by Hamlet.
Olsen: Danish SS agents, heh? I never thought of that before, but I suppose it fits your situation, although you will have my a fair trial at the end of the interrogation process. This court may decide a number of outcomes, for instance, you could be found innocent and released. So I wouldn't assume the supreme penalty at this date.
McKenna: A fair trial is exactly what I would have feared most six months ago that today I look forward to attend...One step closer to God...
Olsen: I understand you keep a journal? Are you well supplied with paper, pens and whiteout? I'm sorry that prison regulations restrict you to a typewriter. I found an old IBM Selectric in a warehouse that looked almost never used. I figure it belonged to the Army clerk who did the requests for transfers to Shemya when the Army and Air Force still had a base at that subarctic Aleutian Island paradise during the Cold War.
McKenna: Is Shemya still open?
Olsen: No, it was shutdown soon after the revolution and the survivors released.
McKenna: I heard many died from disease, suicides, escape attempts and in disputes between themselves.
Olsen: The report I read on the Shemya concentration camp said over 10,000 died there...The records on inmates were destroyed by the SS guards on the day of liberation, so the number of the dead cannot be accurately determined.
McKenna: The camp at Shemya was my late father's idea. I had nothing to do with it. I was told by him it was a "reeducation center" and the prisoners were well treated. I do not say this in order to escape responsibility. I was second in the SS chain of command at that time, and could have looked into the matter. Therefore, I am just as responsible as was my former SS Chief. I once remarked to someone that I would have followed him to Hell. I nearly did...
Olsen: There is technical verification of that last statement. And let me add as your interrogator that, if anything, you have always went out of your way to take responsibility for all SS actions, whether or not you ordered them, or even knew of them.
McKenna: Thank you Olsen for trying to save my neck, but for what happened on Shemya alone I deserve the death penalty. After all, I was shown the video taken on the day of liberation by the Alaskan National Guard. The scenes of the starved dead adults were bad enough, but young children were sent to Shemya with their parents and women gave birth while inmates...
Olsen: Don't forget the hands of the liberators were not bloodless! The uniformed SS correctional officers all surrendered to the Guardsmen as soon as their transport plane landed at the Shemya runway. At that point they were P.O.Ws and put under guard in the nearest aircraft hanger. At about midnight the SS were marched down to the beach and machine gunned, the bodies left where they had fallen to be eaten by the wildlife.
McKenna: "Hoist with his own petar..."
Olsen: Naturally in a general way, the commander is responsible for everything his subordinates do, but the subordinate is responsible for own actions. Clearly, the individual uniformed SS at Shemya could have resigned rather taking part in a reign of terror on a small island. American soldiers and law enforcement officers cannot defend their crimes by saying, "I WAS ONLY FOLLOWING ORDERS."
McKenna: I can't disagree...Thinking back on it I often saw a strange expression on my subordinates faces when I ordered them to do some illegal act. I know that expression is look of a man or woman who is going to do something they know is wrong.
Olsen: I know we are hitting a lot of topics this morning and I ask your patience.
McKenna: Believe me it's a welcome from my cell.
Olsen: Then I'll switch the topic once again before we break for lunch. It's the Friday sea food special that our cook does so well. You are aware that the guards and officers eat exactly the same thing you do, albeit, usually in the mess hall?
McKenna: Well let's hit it hard and get it gone!
Olsen: I want to briefly discuss the famous chess game between your late father and Colonel Hunter at the Executive Motor Suites in Orlando, Florida in late December of 20_
McKenna: I remember it well. It was the first and last time I saw the famous Hunter in person. I was most impressed. The Chief and I put him to the "good cop - bad cop routine" at first that Hunter survived without the expected blow up on his part. A cool customer...very cool.
Olsen: It is true you pointed your service weapon at Colonel Hunter.
McKenna: In fact, on two separate occasions.
Olsen: The weapon was loaded?
McKenna: What good is an unloaded gun to an SS agent?
Olsen: I take that for an affirmative response. The weapon was "locked & cocked" as we in the military say about a gun pointed down range about to be discharged? I would point out that as an Army officer, Hunter would know one never points a firearm at a person unless the intent is to pull the trigger and kill him.
McKenna: Yes, it was loaded and ready to fire, but the safety was engaged. This was on order from the Chief. I believe his words were, "You can huff and puff, but only the master chess player gets to shoot the fox." I took this to mean that the Chief would kill Hunter at some point.
Olsen: I read your report on the incident, which pretty much reads the same as Hunter's account of the incident.
McKenna: Then you know I was cooling my heels in the hallway with several uniformed SS officers while the chess games - there were three of them - were played behind closed doors in the executive lounge. Hunter won two out of three.
Olsen: How long were the games?
McKenna: It seemed an eternity, but couldn't have been more than an hour...
Olsen: What happened next?
McKenna: We returned all of Hunter's personal effects and walked with him to the city stop in front of the motel. There was more conversation that I won't bore with repeating, as it was covered in my report in detail. Then he boarded the city bus that was bound for International Drive with about a dozen tourists.
Olsen: Part of the oral contract was to give Hunter a 24 hour head start.
McKenna: As I said before, it was the last time I saw Hunter was when he boarded that city bus in Orlando, looking for all the world like another happy tourist in central Florida with not a care in the world. He waited until the last riders got on the bus and turned to smile and wave goodbye at the Chief, as if they were old friends waving adieu.
Olsen: I understand from your report that Hunter abandoned the backpack and suitcase at a bus stop on International Drive.
McKenna: Yes, we had a merry chase to Italy when an attractive female Italian tourist from Rome decided to give a new home to Hunter's laptop that we had supplied with a tracking we did with the rest of Hunter's effects that found their ways to pawn shops and individuals.
Olsen: It would be obvious to an experienced agent that any personal effects the SS touched would be electrically tagged.
McKenna: I thought so too...but orders from the Chief.
Olsen: Thus Hunter disappeared again...
McKenna: When we continued the chase 24 hours later, the fox had disappeared, as I had predicted.
Olsen: Was your late father upset? I understand he wasn't a good loser. Did he rant and rave?
McKenna: This was the strangest thing about this strange incident in Orlando! Several days later when I could absolutely confirm that Hunter had disappeared once again - and I reported this fact to the Chief, he did not seem surprised at all. In fact, he didn't even look up from the report he was reading.
Olsen: Did he say anything?
McKenna: He said, "When Dr. Frankenstein created his creature, he believed he would have control of the monster....Sadly this proved not to be the case."
Olsen: What do you think he meant?
McKenna: The Chief was Hunter's interrogator at FCI Butner in North Carolina for over a year. I think the chess games were part of a brain washing process by him to turn Colonel Hunter into his personal killing machine.
Olsen: Let's break for lunch. I'll have the guards serve us here.


[The following script excerpt is reprinted with the permission of HBO from their award winning mini-series, "The Red Rose Movement"]

[Scene: A bedroom with a large bed in the center of the screen occupied by two attractive young 20ish people who are male and female. Both are obviously nude beneath a white sheet with only heads and arms exposed. Above the head of the bed is a picture window with the curtains moved back that frames a clear blue morning sky and two palm trees. The bedroom is in disorder with male and female clothing draped on furniture as if they had been removed in a hurry the night before. The action begins when the woman kisses the man one last time and jumps nude out of the bed to run to the bathroom.]

Woman: [from the bathroom open door] Okay...Okay...I know you don't approve!

Man: This is putting it mildly, Fanny!

[Toilet flushing sound and a very beautiful nude young woman with olive complexion and
combing long black hair as she reenters the bedroom with a hair brush. She walks over to a bureau and pulls out panties, bra and red track suit and quickly dresses in a chair while talking to the man now alone in the bed.]

Fanny: Do you love me, Steve?

Steve: I would convert to Judaism today and marry you tomorrow...

Fanny: You can marry me but you can't convert to Judaism. You have to be born a Jew.

Steve: [props himself up in bed and lights a cigarette] That's not what your friend Doris says...

Fanny: [putting on a pair of black track shoes] Did you ask a third Jew for an opinion? I mean you need a tie breaker here.

Steve: Why are we talking about this anyway? You are avoiding the issue.

Fanny: [now seated at her dresser and twisting her hair into a pony tail] Because the most important thing for me is whether or not you will love me after I do what must be done.

Steve: You know I will...I love you Fanny Kaplan! I'll always be there for you no matter what you do.

Fanny: Pure and simple it is murder. We can dress it up as "A necessary political assassination" - but murder it is...

Steve: The military in Southwest Asia calls the assassination of a key enemy commander, "Taking out a hostile command and control center."

Steve: [blowing a smoke ring] Revolution is civil war, and some enemies of the Republic are too dangerous to allow free run...Wesley Smithson is one of them. The risk analysis of allowing this man to remain in circulation are frightening. I agree - if something fatal doesn't happen to him he may become "The American Lenin" in the not too distant future.

Fanny: We finally agree on something, honey bunny! [she blows him an imaginary kiss that is promptly returned]

Steve: Then you should also agree that of the two of us, I'm the one with "hands on" experience as a U.S. Army sniper in Southwest Asia with over 100 confirmed kills. I'm the one who should go to Boston.

Fanny: Over 100 confirmed kills at distances above 300 meters. Also, as you admit yourself, you were never an infantryman who kills up close and personal. I think your own words were "Killing for me was like playing a video game."

Steve: No, but I was there in the field with the infantry and observed them...

Fanny: Stephen, my point is that when it comes to killing a human being close up, you have no more experience than I do.

Steve: Okay...Okay....I give you the point...

Fanny: [she makes an imaginary "1" in the air with her finger] Then wouldn't your U.S. Army sniper logic tell you that an attractive young female is not likely to be seen as a threat even by a male hardcore Communist like Smithson? By the way, honey bunny, how many good looking Iraqi women did you and your soldiers allow to walk right up to them? Hmmm? You're still alive and one piece, which only goes to prove either they were all Christian Iraqis, or didn't have a concealed bomb belt.

Steve: " Well trained American soldiers on the battlefield are always alert to danger.." It says so in FM 101 - "The Land Battle"....

[Woman's voice from the open bedroom door] Are you love birds decent? And I won't forget to put the apartment key back on the hook in the kitchen.

Fanny: I am, but Stephen is nude.

[A tall blond woman charges into the bedroom] Hey fella, I can't check out your junk with the sheet pulled up over you! [And jokingly starts to pull off the white sheet to be resisted by a laughing Steve]

Man: [laughing and throwing shorts and shirt to Steve] Doris, you shameless hussy! Leave the poor man his covering! [Now turn your back! She turns around and Steve quickly dresses.]

Doris: [back still turned] Moses, really! You of all people should know women are not turned on by male bodies! I mean just look how ugly you are? [Moses is a short, pudgy and unattractive young man already going bald] Women are the noble sex who are turned on by the spiritual nature of the superior man. This is why I love you.

Moses: I thought it was because I have a business that is actually making a profit in this Depression? As my wise rabbi in Brooklyn once said, "People will always need the grocery store, the corner bar and the local pawn shop."

Doris: And it's never about the money either!

Moses: Tell that to the ladies of the night on Orange Blossom Trail that on a hot Florida Friday night in July!

Doris: They sell SEX not LOVE....And you'd be surprised how many "business women" are happily married and have children.

[The trio follow the now dressed Steve out of the bedroom to the kitchen/dinning room/living room section of the small apartment. They arrange themselves like members of the same family in their favorite spots - Fanny takes charge as cook/waitress for the clan by immediately going to the refrigerator and pulling open the door to start a meal - Steve briefly joins her to make coffee that loudly begins to brew in the MacCoffee machine - Moses pulls out a copy of The Orlando Sentinel from its plastic wrapper and begins to read - Doris, the queen bee, parks herself regally on the counter bar stool next to the wall where she can observe the clan.

After making the coffee, Steve flops down in his favorite easy chair and picks up a late copy of "American Rifleman" and starts to thumb the pages. Doris picks up the remote and turns on the television that she has muted and watches for a moment in silence. She turns it off and says, "I can't even bear watching Fox News these days: It's all lies and propaganda from The Ministry of Truth....Oh....and did you know my favorite blog, "The Freedom Fighter's Journal" disappeared last night?"

Fanny: Well honey, old Ronbo was pushing things a bit too far.

Doris: Since when is telling the truth going too far?

Moses: [looking up from the newspaper] Since the Big Lie became the truth.

Steve: So you agree we have at last reached the Age of Orwell in America after a long voyage?

Moses: I think that is one thing we all agree this morning...and that something must be done.

Fanny: But we don't agree that the Boston killer team should be myself and Doris...yet?

[She begins to serve breakfast to everyone starting with Doris and Moses with Steve last. The trio digs in like hungry dogs given a tasty treat by the master. Fanny concludes the service with coffee before sitting down at the counter next to Doris to eat, while her friend wolfed it down in about three big bites followed by the large cup of coffee. She looks up to see three sets of eyes watching her.]

Fanny: Do you want my breakfast too? Seriously! My stomach is tied into a knot. The coffee is plenty until lunch.

Doris: Do you mind, dear? I just remembered that I was too busy to eat for the last day or so...[Doris attacks Fanny's breakfast with the same grim determination to conquer her hunger as before with an often open mouth. The loud gulps of a second Fanny supplied cup of coffee are heard as well.]

Moses: Like I always say, "Keep hands and feet clear when feeding Doris."

[The two men finish up their respective breakfast in silence. After everyone is finished, Fanny buses the tables, dumps out the the uneaten food into a trash can and puts the dirty dishes in the machine to be washed.]

Fanny: It's 8:45 a.m. now. As we agreed last night, Doris and I hop into the BMW at 9:00 a.m. and drive up I-4 to I-95 and Boston. The weather forecast for the next ten days are high temperature and clear weather for the entire east coast. We should be so lucky in January! We drive straight to Boston in a two driver team with one driver asleep or relaxing in the back seat while the other is behind the wheel...

Steve: We agreed about the "two guy team"....

Fanny: In the context of being either male or female....The coin toss, remember, Stephen...Moses? The men lost the toss.

[While this conversation is going on, the female conspirators are making final preparations]

Doris: I think we have it all together in four bags...The rest is packed in the trunk.

Fanny: Then let's pray and say goodbye...

Steve: One last coin toss...the best two out of three?

Fanny: No, let's pray and kiss goodbye.

Steve: Who elected you leader of this cell? I'm the professional soldier here and the graduate of the NCO academy at Ft. Jackson, South Carolina...

Fanny: STEPHEN! [Moses and Doris have joined Fanny with bowed heads and closed eyes holding hands. Fanny has also closed her eyes and motion to Steve with her free left hand]

Steve: Okay, then I will lead the prayer....If you Jewish folks don't mind a Christian one...

[Silence...Everything has been said over and over for many days. Steve joins Fanny, takes her hand and bows his head]


Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your Kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins,
as we forgive those who sin against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom,
the power and the glory are yours.
Now and for ever.

Moses: I don't think the Jews have any problem with that prayer...
[Doris with tears in her eyes gives Steve a sisterly kiss on the cheek]
Doris: I love you, Steve!
Steve: So when do we pick out the new furniture?
Doris: You know what I mean.
[Fanny whispers something in Steve's ear and they kiss on the mouth, as do Doris and Moses. They pick up the two gym bags each and leave by the glass sliding door leading past the swimming pool to the parking lot. The two men stand watching them hurry to the car . The women do not look back.]
Steve: There goes the love of my life.
Moses: I know exactly how you feel at this moment. What did Fanny whisper to you?
Steve: Something by Shakespeare:
"If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why, then, this parting was well made."
Moses: It's from JULIUS CAESAR - Brutus to Cassius...
Steve: What did Doris whisper to you?
Moses: That I should watch you...She is worried you might follow them to Boston.
[Steve goes to the refrigerator and pulls out two beers and throws one to Moses, who catches it with practiced ease. He sits down on his favorite chair and turns on the television with the remote. A football game is in progress. Moses goes to the kitchen to discover a bag of popcorn and opens it. He pulls his chair over to Steve's and places the open bag on a small round table between the two of them.]
Moses: What game are we watching on ESPN?
Steve: I haven't a clue.


[Scene: Boston, Massachusetts in winter. The scene opens with a shot of the Boston skyline and the camera pans down to a small dirty white late model BMW driving across a bridge into the city as the credits roll. The car drives by several patriotic points of interest like the Old North Church. The speaking begins after the road stained vehicle pulls up to a security gate in front of a mansion in wealthy section of Boston. A woman's voice says something into a speaker and the gate rolls back to admit the car. The camera on high follows the vehicle up the winding driveway of a beautiful Tudor style mansion around to the back, where an automatic garage door opens to admit the BMW which slides inside the door closes.

INTERIOR SCENE: Fanny and Doris exit from the vehicle and look around them. The garage inside looks like a high end auto salesroom and several luxury vehicles are parked in various bays that include a 1950s era Rolls Royce limousine.

Doris: This kind of remains me of daddy's garage at the Gulf home in Ft. Myers...

Fanny: It must be nice to have been born and raised silver spoon.

Doris: Well, excuse me, O righteous poor one, but your Uncle Bernie seems to have bet on Old Stewball at the race track and won big.

Fanny: It's the house of his boss...Bernie is only the lead butler and supervisor of mansion complex...Just a little worker bee like his niece making it work for The Big People.

Doris: Anyhow, the rich get to drive better cars and meet a more polite class of psychopaths than you peons.

Fanny: [Bows and does a Cockney accent] Me Lady - will it be the Rolls or the Caddy for your transportation to the Queen's Tea this afternoon?

Doris: [Walking over to the Rolls with aristocratic grace and doing an upper class British accent] Young woman it will be the ROLLS....A Rolls Royce is so BRITISH you know. Do open the door for me.

Man: [applauding] Bravo, bravo - what play is this?

Fanny: [Runs over and leaps on the small older man with neat gray beard locking around him with arms and legs while kissing him in the face. The man puts her gently down.]

Doris: [Joining the duo] You must be Uncle Bernie. I've heard so much about you. You're so damn CUTE in that little butler suit! Can I give you a hug and kiss?

Bernie: [Looking up at up at her and saying as a joke] Please don't EAT me, big tall woman! By the way. how's the weather up there?"

[They all get a good laugh. Doris moves over a few feet and gives herself an imaginary pointer and begins to speak into an imaginary television camera with the flat mid-western accent of a television weather girl]

Doris: Today's weather forecast for the Boston metro area is clear for the next 24 hours...The temperatures will be in the high 30s and low 40s ....But get your snow shovels ready, folks! Up here [pointing upward with her imaginary pointer to an imaginary video screen] a northeaster is forming off Greenland in the North Atlantic and this weekend New England will get hit with the first blizzard of the winter...

Bernie: Very good! You'll be perfect for your next role in a murder mystery that takes place in Boston during a warm January night....

[This ruins the mood, but sets the agenda. Bernie finds a hotel style luggage carrier and rolls it over to the the trunk of the BMW. Fanny pops the trunk lid with her remote and Bernie begins to unload the contents that consists of several large army duffel bags. The women remove the smaller gym bags from inside the vehicle, and stack them around and on top of the heavy items. When the vehicle is cleared, the doors and trunk lid are closed. The trio exits the set following Bernie who is pushing the full luggage cart down a hallway seen through an open door.]

[NEXT SCENE: Interior of a well equipped and expensive kitchen with a high ceiling. Bernie has now removed his black suit coat, rolled up his white sleeves, put on a apron and is cooking something on a large ultra modern stove. The girls have arranged themselves on high standing stools at a counter in the foreground on the set. Doris has assumed her fresh Jewish princess look complete with nail file and polish, while Fanny looks like a tired truck driver with red eyes just arriving in Boston after driving straight through from Florida. The light gray track suit that Doris wears looks as fresh as it did when she departed Winter Park, Florida. In contrast, The red exercise outfit that Fanny wears would look right for an Interstate driving long distance trucker.

The effect is complete with an obviously exhausted Fanny smoking a cigarette and washing each puff down with a cup of coffee. When the scene opens with Fanny looking at Doris in obvious dislike in silence. She pans to look briefly towards the camera as if to say silently, "Do you believe this woman?"]

Fanny: I hate you, Doris!

Doris:[smiles] But the morning we left Winter Park you said you loved me like a sister.

Fanny: I do! But sometimes I hate your guts! Like right now...."Look everyone: The proud Jewish princess from Miami waiting for her gourmet bunch in Boston that is being cooked to perfection by my working class uncle."

Doris: I tried to drive, but after about 15 minutes down I-95 you ordered me to pull over and change places...

Fanny: You tried to kill us both! Honey, just because a BMW can cruise at over 100 MPH doesn't mean you go petal to the metal down a crowded Interstate highway! You scare the living crap out of me when you drive on the Interstate, best girlfriend!

Doris: Could I help if the cute boy in a yellow super charged Ford Mustang 5.0 with the red racing stripe decided to play love bug on our tail bumper? I tried to get away from him...I really did, Fanny!

Fanny: ....And don't forget cutting in and out between the large tractor trailers who were doing a good ten MPH over the 70 MPH speed limit....

Doris: A semi trucker I once dated from Naples, Florida explained to me the thing about losing money if the cargo isn't delivered on time, and how the Smokies nearly always cut them lose with just a warning...


Doris:...That after miles I was still leader of the road rally! This is what bored girls on the Interstate do on long road trips driving a fast car... you blow the doors off a fast car in the right lane with a cute boy driver at the wheel. Then his muscle car starts to follow you in order to blow your doors off just to prove out bad his machine really is...Afterwards, you both pull off at the next exit for a drink at the bar that is always there, and open 24/7 to make a date...

Fanny: [Looking at Bernie, who is serving them bunch] She is gone, Uncle Bernie! GONE!!!My best girlfriend is OLDER than me and will soon be 26 years old. This spoiled brat already has a man she says loves and wants to marry. A MAN WHO OWNS HIS BUSINESS!! - she has to play Death Car 2000 with a pimple faced teenage boy who isn't old enough to know he can crash and burn...

[Bernie finishes serving and starts eating from the place at the counter he set earlier. He remains silent for a few minutes and eating slowly, as the argument between the two young women that they both clearly love to do before an audience concludes.]

Doris: In many years on the Interstates of the USA doing road rallies I have never crashed and burned!

Fanny: YET!!! Grow up, Doris! You're aren't rich daddy's cute little girl anymore...There are jams that big girls get into that even Big Daddy War Bucks can't get you out of...And the cops won't always take you home to him.

Doris: No, silly, the lawyers hired by daddy take care of me...Like they did a couple of weeks ago in Orlando. Remember that Sunday afternoon when I did the beer run while you and the boys were watching the game? You guys were so involved in the darn none of you realized we were nearly out of beer. So it was good old sober Doris to the rescue to get the brews! I took the Beamer south on I-4 to the World Liquor Store at Lake Buena Vista where the Bud is super cheap.

[Fanny and Bernie are staring at Doris with disbelief and both have stopped eating. Fanny puts out her ever present cigarette on her plate in the remaining food.]

Doris: I kept the Beamer to the posted limit and in the right line until that last straight part of I-4 leading to the Buena Vista exit. I mean everyone speeds up there in a race to get to Disney, and so did I! In fact, I blew the doors off this FHP Mustang cruiser that turned on its funny lights and raced me to the exit at Disney. I pulled over into the parking lot of Liquor World and this really cute and angry trooper runs up and bangs on the window that I quickly open. That's when it happened! He reached in and grabbed tried me and attempted to pull me out of the seat when the belt was still clicked and...

Fanny: You do understand why the man could be upset with you...

Doris: Not really...and he didn't even offer to buy me a drink at the World Liquor Lounge! However, he did cuss me a like a sailor in front of all those nice tourists! Why one lady put her hands over the ears of her little boy so he couldn't hear what the trooper wanted to do to my mother! Then this very professionally dressed middle age woman charges over and yells in his ear while he is cussing and trying to get me out of the car "Officer don't kill that poor woman!"

Fanny: With your dumb luck the woman was a lawyer on her way to attend an ABA convention at Disney World.

Doris: How did you know, Fanny?

Fanny: "Fools, Drunks and the United States...."

Doris: I don't know what you mean.... Sandra Trojan was in attendance at a convention of N.O.W. lawyers at the Hilton on Lake Buena Vista Drive and just happened to be behind the cop car on I-4 when he turned on those red, blue and blue lights and joined my road rally.

Bernie: "TROJAN!" [laughing and wiping away tears} You had me going there for a moment! What an imagination! You should be a writer! Fiction of course....

Fanny: She's telling the truth, Uncle Bernie, Doris never lies...If she said it happened...Oh goodness! It really HAPPENED! She often gets into police jams and always gets out a few hours.

Bernie: [Finishing his meal and wiping his mouth] So the cop lets you go because he doesn't want criminal and civil charges filed against him for a verbal and physical assault. He lets you off with a warning to watch your speed...and your father gets to add another lawyer to your legal team...which growing rather large by this time.

Fanny: And we thought you went swimming in the pool just outside the apartment in the middle of the patio...You usually do that when we watch the game, argue about the players and get royally stinko.

Doris: I tried to tell you guys what happened, but you were too busy wolving down the pizza, gulping the brews and fussing about the players...I mean REALLY! How could anyone be interested in a bunch of millionaires running around playing kid games?

Fanny: There is a Pizza Hut a block away next to a 7/11...we thought you bought it there...

Doris: The beer and pizza were on sell at Liquor World and Pizza World right next door in the World Shopping Center...

Bernie: You're rich! You could order from your cellphone.

Doris: But Uncle Bernie, my daddy explained to me when I was a little girl, "If you watch the pennies, the dollars will soon appear...."

Fanny: And just in case she hasn't told you, Doris is a "Daddy's Girl!"

Doris: I kiss his picture every night before I go to bed [Digging something out of a large handbag] Here is my father! See how handsome he is with beautiful silver hair! Everyone says he looks just like Ernest Hemingway, especially when they see him on his yacht fishing in the Gulf of Mexico...

[Fanny and Bernie are silent in disbelief as among objects removed by Doris from the handbag is a small radio shack tape recorder with the red record light on and a small stack of mini audio tapes.]

Bernie: [picking up the recorder, turning it off and rewinding the tape, then hitting the PLAY button, "I kiss his picture every night before I go to bed..."

[Doris has noticed from their expressions she's in the dog house with people again.]

Doris: Did I just jump the shark?


Doris: Don't hit me, Fanny! If you do I'll punch you back...Steve taught me how to box...

Fanny: [While slowing getting off the high stool and going into a fighting pose with her eyes on her opponent. Doris gets off her chair and goes into a boxing stance with left hand fist near her face and hand fist arm extended. The two circle coming nearer and nearer one another doing shadow boxing movements as a warm up to a fist fight.]

Fanny: WHY?

Doris: [yelling back] HISTORY! When we machine gun down that whole stinking Smithson commie cell in the conference room the Media will call it the "New Boston Massacre" and it will start the Second American Revolution! Didn't Dr. Danowtiz always tells his students to tape record important stuff like every single word he said about the American Revolution? DUH! Oh, and we need to think the about the video for youtube after we murder the commies...

[Fanny charges at the larger woman, but Bernie jumps between them and with difficulty puts a screaming Fanny back into chair. Doris shoots Fanny the bird, and regally take her seat as if she won a ten round prize fight. Fanny only calms down after Bernie puts her in a chair and slaps her face. She comes to her senses.]

Fanny: Thanks, I needed that, Uncle Bernie...You never hit me before, but your brother did quite a bit...when I deserved it...which was often when I was younger...

Bernie: Your father was old school Jewish....he loved his family, but he was hard on you kids, especially his darling Fancine...who was always into SOMETHING even before she could walk.

Fanny: I lost it...Sorry...Doris brings out the worse in me...and the best.

Bernie: I have much thinking to do....Let me guess what was is in the duffel bags...Three submachine guns and magazines of ammunition....AK 47s? Maybe a hand grenade or two just to make sure everyone in the room is dead after you pump them full of lead? Can't be too careful, heh?

Doris: Well we aren't talking about REAL people here! A room full of stinking communist PIGS. Steve explained how all Leftists were psychopaths and subhumans. The country will be better off without them! The Republic will be restored in all its power and glory! The American Revolution will then swept the planet! In no time the world will be one large DISNEY WORLD theme park with its Chinaland and Germanyland and...


Bernie: Uncle Bernie says you young ladies are tired and fussy, so up to your bedrooms you go - He has much thinking to do in private.

[The trio exit the set. The scene ends.]



[SCENE: Well appointed Media/Conference room with stadium style seating. The chairs are made of expensive looking black leather in several rows with a stairs in the middle that separate them into two sections. At the bottom is a table where several automatic weapons are displayed: An M-16A2, AK-47 and German WWII MP43 submachine gun. Beside each weapon are two large magazines that have taped together for rapid reload. The actions have been pulled back on all the guns and the two men, one white and one black, are looking at the MP43 in a very professional manner, while talking to one another in a low voice. The door opens and two women enter dressed in warm up suits. On Fanny's gray sweatshirt the logo, “U.S. Army” in black letters, while the red one that Doris wears proudly states “U.S. Marine Corps” in gold letters above the anchor and globe.

Bernie: Harold, let me introduce you to my niece Fanny and her best friend Doris Hoffman.

Harold: [Walking over to greet the duo at the bottom of the steps. Harold is a handsome and well built tall black man of 60 something with a big smile] You must be Fanny Kaplan, Bernie's niece (he shakes her hand with the ease of a politician and looks to the the six foot plus Doris]...and tall woman... you must be Doris. [They shake hands]

Doris: [In an excellent Sarah Palin voice] I can see RUSSIA from here!

Fanny: She never said that - It was some stupid commie comedian chick on Saturday Night Live!

Doris: [Still in Palin character] Betca Marie what's her-name said, "Let them eat cake..."

Harold: You really are crazy....

Doris: [In her own high pitched loud voice] Of course, I am! I've been diagnosed by the best doctors that my daddy could hire at the best hospitals in Florida as having "Bi Polar Disorder." But like that guy said, "If you know you're crazy and really are crazy it's okay, because generally speaking crazy people think they are SANE and the rest of the world is insane."

Harold is speechless and looking at Doris in amazement as people who first meet Doris often are...Bernie is looking up at the ceiling with lips moving in silence...]

Fanny: Doris, you got that from "Catch-22" and the author didn't exactly say that MOONBAT! Don't get me started Doris! You know what buttons to push...

Harold: [Putting his hand out to Doris again] Let's start over again: "Hello young lady, my name is Harold Washington..."

Doris: [In a Germanic accent] Brunhilde here, It's a pleasure to meet you! Are with the Giants? My boyfriend Siegfried hates them...

[Bernie walks over to the table and picks up the roll of masking tape and starts pulling off a piece, which goes over Fanny's mouth...The next piece goes over the mouth of Doris.]

Bernie: When Fanny was a kid, and went into overdrive while I wanted to talk to her dad, this always worked.

[Fanny has calmed down and seems content to be silenced; however, Doris is jumping up and down with bug eyes while pointing at her mouth..]

Harold: I think you taped Doris' nose up..[He walks over and pulls off the tape and tears it in half...Doris starts to talk, but Harold puts the tape back over her mouth before she can speak.] So they are both bi-polars...strong emotional mood changes between low and high?

Bernie: As is her uncle and was her father, who died from cancer back in '09. A trait that the poor Kaplan family share with the rich Hoffman family.

Harold: Come to think of it when we were Marines you were a little crazy at times, but then again, we all were all crazy back in the late 1960s, so you fit in with the crowd without being noticed.

[The two women are standing at “parade rest” like two soldiers in boot camp listening to a lecture by their NCOs. Harold takes notices and walks over to them.]

Harold: [loudly] ATTENTION! [The woman do not respond]

Bernie: Commands have to be given at attention, otherwise the Marines will ignore you.

Harold: [Coming to “attention”] ATTENTION! [The women come to the position of “attention” with bodies frozen, hands at the side and eyes focused straight ahead]

Bernie: They know the drill. Fanny's boyfriend is a former soldier in the 101st Airborne Division. He put the two of them through a modified boot camp last summer.

Harold: We'll see. [He removes the tape from their mouths and notices Doris following him with her eyes. He gets up right in her face and yells Marine Corps Drill Sergeant style] ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH ME, MARINE?

Doris: SIR, NO SIR!




Doris: SIR, NO SIR!


[Doris starts doing perfect male Marine push ups and yells in cadence: “1..2...3, etc.]


Fanny: SIR, YES SIR!


Fanny: SIR, YES SIR! [Drops down and starts doing push ups beside Doris and starts her own count]

Harold: [To Bernie while the woman are doing push ups] I'm very impressed...What else military can they do?

Bernie: Just about everything we could do after 16 weeks of Parris Island boot camp in 1967.

Harold: Weapons training too?

Bernie: The D.I. Who trained them was himself a Drill Sergeant at Army BCT for about a year at Ft. Jackson, South Carolina...This was after several tours in Iraq as a sniper who had over one hundred confirmed kills...

[The women are well over 20 push ups each and are beginning to show sweat on the exercise suits.]

Harold: Okay...the point is made...stop it [The women ignore him and keep on doing push ups and counting cadence] Will you two stop? I don't remember how to halt push ups. [They both stop and laugh]

Bernie: Want to hit the showers, ladies?

Fanny: We haven't done our mile run yet! How many laps around the property for a mile?

Bernie: Sixteen.

[Doris and Fanny are doing a jog in place]

Fanny: Okay...We'll be showered, dressed and back here in an hour.

[The women jog to the door and exit stage right]

Harold: This is going to work!

[SCENE: An hour later in the same room as before. Fanny and Doris have changed into shorts, tank tops and flip flops – Florida style. Bernie is seated next to them on the front row in Butler dress except for the coat. Harold is dressed as before in a grey business suit and facing his small audience. At his back is a large movie house size screen with a large skyscraper centered in the downtown of a large American city.]

Harold: First of all let me introduce himself: I'm Harold T. Washington – the owner and CEO of Blackwing Security, Inc. You may have heard of us in relation to the Iraq War. Do you remember the 2003 famous picture of the contractors lynched by the Republican Guard in Baghdad? Those six men were my employees and highly trained special operators who were looking for Saddam and his evil sons....

Fanny: This is all very interesting, but cut to the chase...Can you get security in the Prudential Building to stand down while we do what has to be done?

Harold: Of course, young lady, they are my employees! And I will be alone in the control room tomorrow night as acting shift supervisor.

Doris: What about police?

Harold: There will be no police unless I call them and I won't...

Bernie: The mayor will have the Boston PD with him?

Harold: Maybe a few security guards that come and go with him. The mayor's reception will be restricted to the ballroom and my guards will prevent unauthorized building tours.

Fanny: Okay... after the mayor's party breaks up around 9 p.m. and the building secured at 10 p.m., there will be no one upstairs except for us and the bad guys?

Harold: Yes, all civilians above the basement level will be gone by ten p.m. and the front entrance secured. The lower level garages will be secured as well from entry but open to exit by vehicles all night. When the building is locked down and secured, the guards will be sent home, and I will be the only security guard on duty.

Doris: What about the clean up crews?

Harold: The evening and night shift have been cancelled. The clean up will not start until Sunday morning. This will give a good long head start to those interested in seeing other parts the world...

Bernie: So you think no one besides us will be aware what happened Friday until Sunday morning?

Harold: It would stand to reason that someone would want to know why their “partner” didn't return home and call the cops on Saturday morning...and the police may roll over to the Prud and take a look at the 48th floor conference room...

Fanny: Even at worse case outcome, we get at least several hours head start...

Bernie: I would estimate anywhere from three hours to 24...So we plan to be on the road within the three hour worse case outcome.

Doris: Harold, you do plan to get out of town? It won't take the cops long to realize that you're involved...

Harold: Bernie and I will team up and go west....far, far, FAR west.

Doris: What about your family?

Harold: Wife dead for over ten years...Kids raised and middle aged.

Bernie: ...we both decided to relive our youth as Marine Corps war brothers in the Wild Far East.

Harold: I think we can leave the details for later, but the men will head west and the women go south after the deed is done.

[Harold pushes a button on the remote and a detailed diagram of the 48th floor appears. He pushes another function and a camera mounted on a person takes a walk from the freight elevator to the conference room.]

Harold: This is what you'll see walking from the freight elevator to the conference room. You will note that it is an interior room, so people could get very loud up there and it would be impossible for anyone inside or outside the building to know what's going on.

Fanny: Telephones...computers?

Harold: The land line telephones will be switched off before the kill team goes up the freight elevator and the cellphone signal jammed. The Wi-Fi signal to the computer will be turned off as well. The conference room communication with the outside world will not be possible. Those people will be isolated and killed in the middle of a large American city.

Bernie: So you can see, young ladies, that our plan is the best one to date.

Fanny: Yes, I agree. We get all the bad guys at one fell swoop instead just the leader of the gang.

Doris: Of course, we didn't know beforehand about a friend on the inside.

Fanny: Speaking of that friend...

Harold: I'm right here and you can speak directly to me.

Doris: I don't need to know more about Harold – If Bernie says he's good people – he's good people.

Fanny: Bernie, I thought I knew everything about you! Why didn't you tell me about Harold?

Harold: [waving his hand] Do you want the short version of the Harold-Bernie relationship?

Doris: I would like the long version with details of the drunken orgies in the Far East with willing Asian love girls...


Harold: The short version is that we both joined the USMC in early January, 1967 and went to the same boot camp at Parris Island. As a specialization when we trained with the replacement battalion in Hawaii, and were assigned to be M-60 machine gunners...In early February 1968 our battalion was sent in to replace a bloodied unit in the Battle of Hue. Bernie and I saw mucho hot combat in Hue. When that battle was concluded we went all over Eye Corps as part of an assault battalion that was sent into difficult actions against superior enemy forces. About one week before our 13 month tour was ended in 1969 we were both wounded and ended up at Clark, AFB in the Philippines for several months. When we were stable enough for rehab, we were put on a hospital plane for Walter Reed in Washington, D.C. In a matter of months, the experts had us Marines 100% recovered and fit for duty at the Marine Corps barracks in Washington, D.C. where we both – believe it or not! - received Honorable Discharges in early 1971 with full veteran benefits...

Fanny: So what? Lots of men served together in the Armed Forces in difficult conditions...But then comes jobs...marriage … families and ...years.

Bernie: You see we were USMC WAR BROTHERS! Time and situations change, but once you are a war brothers, you're always and forever, war brothers. It's sacred bond and only death do us part.

Doris: Sounds like marriage to me.

Bernie: It is...just without the sex...with one another...that is. There was that time in Honolulu and...

Harold: The crazy tourist girl from Kansas who thought we both looked liked “studs”...?

Bernie: The short version without sex continues....I saved Harold in combat.

Harold: And I wouldn't have believed a little guy like Bernie could run under heavy fire, throw me like a rag doll over his shoulder and get me to safety after being shot in the butt himself. As if that's not enough, he passes out from loss of blood because he makes the Navy Corpsman patch me up first, And as if THAT wasn't enough, when MEDVAC chopper finally gets us back to an Army MASH unit, Bernie pulls his .45 automatic pistol on a doggie doctor who says I'm a goner and won't treat me...

Bernie:A man gotta do what a man gotta do...But the bottom line is that Harold was saved to fight another day, and I got off because the wounded Army grunts told the doc they definitely would shoot him if he ratted out a combat Bro..

Fanny: I see...Harold owed you.

Bernie: The marker can be out there for decades...but if it is called, the payment is due immediately on the basis of a life for a life.

Doris: [Tears in her eyes] That's so beautiful! It's kind of a male macho version of “Love Story” which took place in Boston during the winter...

Fanny: Not quite...

Bernie: I didn't like that movie, the beautiful girl died at the end. you know about my motivation and my relationship with Bernie.

Bernie: [Looks at his watch] Okay, let's break for the afternoon. I'm going to prepare us a steak supper with wine for this evening. The dress will be casual. We'll discuss the nuts and bolts of the plan after we eat. Then we break for a good night's sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day.

Doris: ...which will end with the execution of the Strelski...

Harold: The what?

Fanny: The Strelski were the palace guards of Peter The Great. They were executed by him because they wanted to overthrow his regime.



[SCENE: A lavish dining room with a large fireplace that could be a five star restaurant. The three diners are finishing their meals, which appears to be steak as a main course. A shortish strong looking older man with gray hair and neat beard in butler attire has just opened a wine bottle and in the process refilling the glasses. He speaks..]

Bernie: [Holding up his wine glass] Ladies and Gentleman – I propose a toast to the Republic!


[They click wine glasses and toss down the wine in one gulp – then immediately throw the glasses into the fireplace where they break]

Bernie: Tomorrow – Friday night – we do the CA...

Doris: CA? “Cover Ass?”

Fanny: If you'd been paying attention last summer when Steve put us though boot camp in the Ocala National Forest, you'd know “CA” in militaryese means “Combat Assault” - you know, when the troops jump out the helicopter with their safeties off ready for combat.

Harold: Hence, the steak dinner. The Marine Corps always served us steak just before the CA in the 'Nam.

Bernie: When the assault team get on the freight elevator tomorrow night, we will be in full combat gear to include flak jackets upgraded to be bullet proof...and Kevlar helmets.

Fanny: Don't you think that's a bit too much? The opposition will be in business dress and not armed. After all, they think nothing violent can happen to them...

Bernie: I would expect a couple of armed security guards out side the entrance to the conference room and one or more of the opposition to be armed. Smithson, for instance, is known to be armed and has a gun permit to carry a concealed weapons. I wouldn't be surprised if there are others in the crowd with guns.

Harold: I agree...with are dealing with Communists here...violent people....and paranoid.

Bernie: The motto of the Corps is to plan for the worst and hope for the best...Body armor saved many a Marine in Vietnam. We may not need it...Then again...

Fanny: The opposition have been warned they are in danger of assassination?

Bernie: David Hunter has seen to it that all members of this Communist cell have been warned that they face death unless they resign immediately from the CPUSA and renounce Communism.

Doris: Any takers?

Bernie: None that the White Rose are aware of...In fact, several have purchased guns, body armor and hired bodyguards...This is reason I'm putting the assault team in full body armor.

Harold: However, the assault team will have the element of surprise...The sucker punch.

Bernie: Yes, and you'll be watching our back down in the control room while this is going on.

Harold: The battlefield will be isolated and short of someone setting off a large bomb up there on the 48th floor, none will be the wiser on Friday night except those involved.

Bernie: Blackwing Security has cameras all over the building...

Harold: Nothing will be recorded...

Bernie: I want everything including the CA recorded...


Bernie: I want WikiSnitch to get some new video/ audio tapes for their website.

Harold: I can have the conference room bugged tonight by my people, but are you sure about this?

Bernie: The assault team can be edited out, right?

Harold: No problem...I'm thinking of the public reaction that may be quite negative against the White Rose and the Tea Party.

Fanny: I think I see your point, Uncle Bernie. The state controlled media will attempt to make martyrs out of the death commies...

Doris: But I just don't see how video of them being gun down in mass is going to help the resistance movement...If anything their stock would rise.

Bernie: First of all, we get to edit the video. I have some very interesting footage that hasn't been released on their last meeting in New York City where they talk of an overthrow of the U.S. Government.

Fanny: Well that's nothing...Commies always talk that talk! We would need a conspiracy meeting with a plan for a coup. Do you have that?

Bernie: No...

Fanny: Then my suggestion is that you rethink this option.

Bernie: Okay then...The release of the videotape is on hold...But I still want Harold to roll tape on everything that happens at The Prud, starting with the mayor's reception. Then later we decide what to do.

Harold: I can do problem. I'll play AV specialist in the control room and give you the raw feeds on DVDs.

Bernie: The next item on the agenda is the mayor's reception that myself, Doris and Fanny will attend.

Harold: This is a risk...and not necessary.

Bernie: Yes, it's a risk, but very necessary.

Fanny: Why?

Bernie: The military code of honor. We are warriors, not murderers. If your enemy is asleep, you must wake him up and put him on guard. I intend to tell Comrade Smithson face-to-face he's looking at death if he does not stand down his Communist Party.

Doris: I think you're as crazy as I am, Uncle Bernie...But this idea appeals to the James Bond fan in me...The good guy and super villain meet face to face before the big showdown and trade insults...

Bernie: How good is Blackwing video production?

Harold: State of the art and getting better, the video wonks at MIT are not far away...

Bernie: In a crowded full of conversation ballroom, you could focus the camera and record the video and audio bewtween two men?

Harold: Piece of cake...If I could wire up one of the speakers...

Bernie: Wire me up and the girls too.

Fanny: Uncle Bernie you are really making things easy for the opposition...Our smiling faces in living color.

Bernie: Who said anything about releasing the video? I was thinking about leading Mayor O'Reilly down the politically incorrect path to defeat by the Republicans this fall. The old saying about giving a man enough rope to hang himself. This wouldn't be the first time conversation with pretty women sank a political career.

Doris: So Fanny and I get the chance to do an interview with the Man, while posing as your star reporters for the popular Northwest tabloid, The Seattle Slimes...Mr. CEO Turley.

Bernie: I gave you ladies first dibs on Mayor O'Reilly....Have your fun! Then kindly old Uncle Bernie moves in for the kill.

Doris: I didn't know we were going to shoot the mayor too, although he is a Democrat and you how far to the Left those people are, and very likely deserves to be off'd.

Fanny: In case “kill” was a figure of speech. The deal here is that we get Mike O'Reilly to be Mike O'Reilly on tape: stupid, sexist, racist, degenerate and criminal. You know, a typical big city mayor in the Northeast. Then we edit the tape and give it to the GOP. The Republicans leak it to the Big Media. The Big Media throw the tape away, but the Little Media fishes it out of the trash can and posts it all over the Internet. And in the fall the Republicans sweep the city elections.

Harold: I have to hand it to you folks: You really know how to plan a conspiracy! I'm glad we are on the same side.

Fanny: We are good at planning...and better at execution.

Bernie: Without action, plans are useless.

Doris: We are the Red Rose, the action branch of the White Rose.

Harold: I thought this was a White Rose operation.

Fanny: Originally, we were White Rose. Originally, Uncle Bernie was Jewish Defense League. We have evolved from there.

Doris: It's really a division of labor in revolution – The White Rose takes care of the ideology, public relations, politics. supplies, money and government. The hands of the White Rose are clean as fresh snow. They are officially against violence and obey the law; a virgin bride at a wedding. But alas..! The White Rose was attacked by the regime and many members were arrested. In prison they were beaten and bloodied. The bright red drops fell on the White Rose below turning them red...

Harold: The Internet rumors about thousands of people being arrested and sent to Alaska are true?

Bernie: It has been confirmed by a recent escape from an Aleutian island named Shemya,. This island is only a few hundred miles from Russia in the Bering Sea. A man on a raft was picked up by a Russian fishing boat and later died from the effects 0f exposure during his escape. The Bering Sea is subarctic and survival in an open boat is not long. However, before the man died he told about the concentration camp the SS set up on the old Cold War base.

Harold: I never heard about this before today...

Bernie: Not many have...The Russian government put a top secret stamp on the tale, but a member of the Russian resistance got the story out to the White Rose.

Harold: How many arrested?

Bernie: We aren't the low thousands we estimate. These are people on the SS Watch List who are not usually well known to the general public, but folks the SS believes have the potential to be leading revolutionists.

Doris: Like Obama? He disappeared after he left office. So did the wife and kids.

Fanny: They went back to Hawaii...

Doris: Then what? Nothing! They just fall off the edge of the earth. I checked. The Obamas are "non persons" like those people in "1984" who get "vaporized" by Big Brother.

Bernie: I think you are jumping to conclusions, Doris. We have evidence that the SS is making arrests without color of law and sending them to Alaska. We have no evidence anyone has been executed by them.

Doris: How about JFK in 1963? The SS let Oswald assassinate him. If you study the assassination of Kennedy, it's the only theory that makes sense.

Fanny: Harold and Bernie - Doris is conspiracy central.

Doris: Like "DUH!" What have we been doing of late?

Fanny:...and anyway what would the alleged disappearance of the Obama clan have to do with the John F. Kennedy assassination? The next silly thing you'll be saying is that Bush was behind the whole thing..

Doris: No, but Lyndon Johnson did have Kennedy murdered so he could be president...with the help of the Secret Service.

Bernie: A dead bird fell at my feet yesterday...The SS killed that poor bird.

Doris: Okay, I'll be the first to admit I'm paranoid. But I also have the highest I.Q. in this room and well read. It is the fact that the Secret Service has evolved into a latter day Praetorian Guard. I submit it didn't happen over night. First they make and break the emperors. The next logical development is that they become the emperor.

Bernie: I would think it better to be the power behind the throne. If things go west, the head of state gets the blame and takes the fall...

Doris: Absolute Power, Uncle Bernie, ABSOLUTE POWER is that name of the D.C. game. At some point in American history one of the Directors of the SS will grab the ring of power off the finger of a dead president. Why be an unknown second man in America, when you can be the first? The Man! The EMPEROR!

Harold: I think we all agree at the very least America has POLITICAL PRISONERS. It would appear things are worse than I thought...

Fanny: The president signed the “Fog and Night” executive order over a year ago. The Secret Service – the damn American SS – has the authority now to arrest anyone in the country and make them disappear.

Doris: And the SS loves to make arrests at 3 a.m. Chilling,heh? Just like the Gestapo! Suddenly your bedroom is invaded by masked men in black and the next thing you know, you're at the National Interrogation Center at FCI Butner, North Carolina being given the Third Degree. The next stop is Shemya...if you survive the brutal interrogation.

Fanny: About these arrests – most of the time only one person gets bagged by the SS. However, if you are seldom separated from your wife/husband/kids/pets – like a family farm for example – the SS makes a clean sweep of everything living, including the dogs and cats. This is done of the basis of guilty by association, although I fail to see how young children and Rover could be part of an anti-government conspiracy.

Harold: Don't the relations and friends report the people missing?

Bernie: In nearly every case....The local cops know nothing and are told nothing by the SS. They take down the missing persons reports...sometimes even run an APB. But the missing people stay missing – vanished into the “Fog and Night.”

Harold: What's next? Mass graves? Killing fields?

Fanny: Ayn Rand said that when people begin to disappear on the basis of having the wrong politics, the tyranny was present.

Doris: When the concentration camp and the torture were confirmed, we became The Red Rose...

Fanny: It was Steve's idea...

Bernie: It my idea...

Doris: It was David Hunter's idea! He is the new Sam Adams...

Bernie: At any rate, our resistance cell took this action as a declaration of war by the federal government on We The People – The Republic – and decided to meet force with force.

Fanny: The Feds crossed the Rubicon...They are traitors...except for the military. General Conway and the Pentagon has so far stayed independent of SS control.

Harold: So you believe the Secret Service is the federal government?

Bernie: No, but they set the agenda and do as they darn well please! If the Director of the Secret Service, John McKenna wants to “borrow” resources from the FBI, he has but to pick up the phone. Ditto for just about everything else besides the NSA, which the Pentagon still controls.

Harold: McKenna? I have never heard of him...

Bernie: Anyone can know he's the Director of the SS – this is on the official table of organization available to the general public – but few know he's the number two man in the federal government.

Fanny: The new Himmler?

Bernie: Pretty much except for the mysticism...and the loyalty.

Doris: Does he run the president, or vice versa?

Bernie: Good question...Our information is dated and based on what former members of the Old Secret Service told us about him. Since 2009 when Obama took power, the Secret Service was purged by McKenna of loyal agents. He did this by way of the personnel office he controlled as Chief of SS Intelligence.

Fanny: And one of McKenna's early victims was the Director of the Secret Service: Kill the king and be the king.

Bernie: He was killed in a tragic Washington, D.C. traffic accident, despite having an excellent driver at the wheel of his well armored and safety equipped limo.

Harold: History teaches us that anyone can be killed.

Doris: I thought the Godfather said that?

Bernie: The Mafia and the modern SS are birds of the same feather...

Harold: Then why are we going against the Reds on Friday night? It would appear they are the lesser of the two evils.

Bernie: ...but still evil and plotting a coup. The American Communist Party will be laying down final plans for take over of the federal government led by Comrade Smithson, the American Lenin...

Fanny: It is treason...

Doris: ...but none will dare call it treason if it is successful.

Harold: Who said that?

Doris: I just did...

Bernie: Anyhow, the good guys are going to head them off at pass tomorrow night...and as for the McKenna gang...We are going to need a few more men for that job.

Doris: Like General Conway's military machine...Maybe if he's not invading some country next weekend we could borrow it for our own putsch.

Bernie: We are working on that...McKenna has above 50,000 paramiltary in the uniformed SS. I would estimate the number of SS in civilian clothes is equal to that number. When liberation day finally comes, we will need lots of boots on the ground in Washington, D.C. And the major cities.

Harold: I hope everyone in this patriot game understands that if there is a coup in the capital, there's is going to be a revolution.

Fanny: Actually the revolution has already been started by the Left...We are simply picking up the gauntlet they threw on the ground at our feet back in 2009.

Doris: Don't forget the Right! After all, our current president is a Republican.

Bernie: Our present president is a Nationalist – a RINO – Mr. Big Government.

Fanny: What's the difference between a Nationalist and Socialist? Very little that I can see...

Bernie: Foreign policy and the military are the biggest differences, but remember the evil genius of Hitler was to unite both factions in his National Socialist party.

Harold: In a way this is good news for us, because the president's main man McKenna isn't going to waste tears over his rivals being taken out of the game.

Bernie: Who said McKenna is the president's man?

Fanny: I thought the man of the shadows wanted to stay here...

Bernie: McKenna is a psychopath – big time – I get this from David Hunter, no less. McKenna arrested and interrogated him back in 1998. Director of the SS, John Francis McKenna plays his own game of first man in America.

Doris: Are you saying that a successful Communist coup would advance McKenna closer to the top?

Bernie: Well, the changes after the collapse of the Soviet Union didn't hurt the career advancement of KGB officer Putin to the chair of Number One in Russia, did it?

Fanny: So you think McKenna has arranged the game in such a way that regardless of coup by the Nationalists or Socialists, he will be the last man standing with the crown on his head?

Bernie: A brilliant plan, heh? I mean you have to give the devil his due...Let the wolves kill one another over the dead body of Lady Liberty and create anarchy...Then when the dust settles emerge as the hero and savior of the nation by clearing the streets with a small well trained army.

Doris: Out of chaos comes order...

Fanny: I'd say the Fourth Reich...McKenna unites the Nationalist and Socialists factions with himself as supreme leader.

Bernie: That's how the logical mind sees the outcome. History teaches us that people would rather have a strict authoritarian leader who can put bread on the table, as well as the maintenance of law and order, rather than a country where barbarians run wild. Americans are no different – If the trains run on time and the pot holes in the street filled – the majority could care less who runs the government.

Harold: Old wine in a new bottle...One leader...One nation...ONE WORLD.

Fanny: It almost worked for Hitler.

Bernie: [Looking at the clock] Getting late. I say we break up for the evening and get a good night's sleep Then we wake up bright and early for the final preparations.

[SCENE: The supper party breaks up in silence and the actors exit stage right. The lights in the dinning room go out.]


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