Thy Kingdom Come: Book One in the Sam Thorpe series (33 page)

Kramer pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of the Brockman Science Building, named after his old friend Amos Brockman for his work in molecular biology research. Brockman had been Sidney’s professor at the University of Pennsylvania before Sidney had fled to Canada. One of the few anti-war faculty members at Penn, Brockman had remained in contact with Sidney over the years.

Amos had invited Sidney to visit his lab any time he returned to the States. Sidney had never planned to take him up on it until this opportunity had come along. Amos held the keys to the grammator, and that’s exactly what Sidney wanted.

The campus looked exactly like the schematic he had seen on the NRC Web site. Sidney used the schematic as a reference for Sergeant Bacher to develop the model. Three large buildings lined Main Street, the science building in the middle, and the mall lay behind the science building. The administrative building where the guards stayed looked to be about thirty yards from the science building. Yes, this would be easy. All he needed was the key.

Sidney spotted the stately gait of Amos Brockman striding down the sidewalk toward him. Amos waved, and Sidney waved back.

The years had been good to Amos. He had kept his weight down and looked to be in robust health.

“Sidney, welcome. I was so glad to hear from you.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, my friend. It has been a long time. Too long.”

“Come up. We can tour the lab, then go out to lunch.”

As they walked up the steps, Kramer popped the question. “I’ve been doing some research up in Canada and need access to a lab. Any chance I can borrow your lab for a few hours some night? I’ll be glad to do it after hours.”

“I think we can work something out. Let’s talk about it over lunch.”

Sidney smiled. “Wonderful.”

Sam sat in the audiovisual room, dumbfounded. Standing in the doorway talking to O’Brien stood Popeye. Sam’s mind raced with options.

He had to get O’Brien’s attention—and right away—before he said anything that would make Popeye suspicious. In spite of the darkness, he slipped back in the booth, making sure he couldn’t be seen. Grabbing his cell, he pushed in O’Brien’s number.

O’Brien reached down and pulled the cell off his belt. “O’Brien.”

Sam whispered, “Get out in the hall.”

O’Brien said something to the group, then disappeared out into the hallway and shut the door. “What’s up?”

“That bushy-haired guy is Popeye, Oliver’s number-two man.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Hell, yes, I’m sure.”

“Wait a minute. Let me check my list of attendees.”

Sam heard a rustling of papers.

“His name is Peter Schmidt. The list shows him to be one of the senior security coordinators. Christ, he must have been screened carefully before getting this job.”

“Well, someone screwed up.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair and kept watching Popeye. “Schmidt, that makes sense. He’s German.” Sam paused again. “We’ve got to modify what you say so he doesn’t get suspicious.”

“You caught me just in time.”

“Keep your presentation in the most general terms,” Sam said. “Mention items that we’ve gotten from scanning the Internet. Emphasize we’re alerting everyone in the northeast.”

Silence.

Sam waited. “What?”

“We’d better alert everyone in the northeast in case they’ve got contacts in other places.”

“Good point. Besides, everyone should be tightening up on security. Sounds as if it’s pretty lax.”

“Here goes.”

Sam clicked off and stared at Popeye.
You slimy bastard,
he thought,
I’m going to get your ass and nail it to the wall.

Q
uentin Oliver stared into the fire. Popeye had just finished briefing him on the results of the meeting in Harrisburg.

“Like I said,” Popeye continued, “it was just a routine follow-up to the previous presentation.”

Oliver’s senses jumped to red alert. “I don’t believe they would have brought you into town a second time for a routine update. You say just before the agent was due to begin his briefing, he got called out of the room.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I wonder why.” Oliver leaned back and stroked his goatee. The feds wouldn’t bring the security services for a group of nuclear facilities in for a meeting just to tell them about a routine alert based on increased chatter on the Internet. None of that made any sense.

Oliver was on high alert. They were too close to success now to let anything get in their way. “I want you to call in the men. Tell them to bring their gear and plan to stay. Once we get them here, we’ll bunk them overnight and keep an eye on everyone. No one leaves.”

“What about Thorpe?”

“I said, ‘no one leaves.’ How much clearer do I need to be?”

Popeye jumped to attention. “I understand. Do we want Thorpe to contact the woman? I know I’ve seen her someplace.”

“Have Thorpe contact her. See if she can make plans for her mother. She can be an asset to our group.”

“Yes, sir.” Popeye saluted and hurried out of the room.

Sam Thorpe sat in his office, tapping his pencil on the desk and watching the minutes tick by. How had Popeye gotten a sensitive job as security coordinator for a number of nuclear sites? Sam guessed he must have a track record that would demonstrate his hatred for the government.

Sam’s thoughts were jarred when the door banged open. Popeye stood in the open doorway.

Sam looked up. “Goddamn it, don’t you ever knock?”

“I’ve just met with General Oliver.”

Sam leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. “And?”

Popeye delivered his message in a tone as if he’d just had an audience with God and here he was, ready to share the commandments with Sam. “He wants you to contact the woman. Have her make plans for her mother. She should come in tonight prepared to stay.”

“For how long?”

“Until General Oliver says otherwise.”

“She might not be able to do that on short notice. You know, sick mother and all.”

“Contact her,” Popeye snapped. “General Oliver’s orders.”

Sam swallowed back a retort. It wouldn’t do any good to get in a pissing contest with him now. “Anything else?”

“No.” Popeye turned to leave, then looked back. “I attended a meeting today with the feds.”

Sam waited.

“They told our group to be on extra high alert for a possible attack. Apparently the chatter on the Internet has increased and security should be tightened.” He chuckled. “Security is so fucking bad.”

“Do you think we’ll have much of a problem at TMI?”

Popeye’s eyes widened. “Who said we were going to TMI?”

“I thought that’s what you were saying.” Sam paused. “I’ll call Alex. See if she can come in today and stay for the duration of the operation.”

“Let me know.” Popeye walked out, pulling the door shut behind him.

The plan must be going into effect tonight or, at the latest, tomorrow. Oliver wouldn’t have a bunch of guys standing around with their thumbs up their asses, waiting.

He grabbed his cell and punched in Alex’s number.

“Hello.”

“Sam Thorpe.”

“Hello, Sam.”

“Can you get someone to watch your mother for the next day or two? We need you to come in tonight.” There was silence on the line. “Don’t forget about Oliver’s offer of the money.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about.” There was another long pause. “Tell him I’ll be there before six o’clock.”

Sam stood outside the barn. A gusting wind blew the light cover of snow that had fallen that afternoon. A Jeep and three pickup trucks had been lined up in front of the fence.

Sam gathered the men around him in a semicircle. They wore their new uniforms and had camouflaged their faces. “We’ve prepared as best we can. It’s time to put that training to the test. I’m impressed with what you’ve accomplished.”

Sam turned and nodded to Oliver.

“Thank you, Colonel Thorpe. Men, tonight marks a historic milestone. This is the first step in an ongoing struggle to reclaim our government and establish a new kingdom, just like the Christian Identity movement said we should. Shadow elements have taken the government from us. We aren’t going to let them get away with it.”

The men glanced at one another and nodded.

“Many of you have lost your land, your savings, your dignity. You join a long line of your brothers before you who have struck out against this tyranny. It’s time for another revolution, this time to move out the Jews and other minorities who have taken over. Our complacency has allowed that to happen, and we must stop it.” His voice rose, and he pointed at the men. “Whites will rule in this new kingdom.”

Sam had to hand it to Oliver. He had absolute control over these men. Sam caught Alex’s eye. She nodded and looked back at the general, seemingly enthralled by what he had to say.

“We’ll divide into three groups. The first group will ride with Colonel Thorpe.”

Sergeant Bacher walked over and stood next to Sam. How would he handle this guy? At some point he’d need to overcome him. That could be tricky.

“Popeye will lead the second group.”

Popeye beamed.

I’ve got your number, Peter Schmidt,
Sam thought.

“Team C will ride with Boris.” Oliver looked at Alex. “Ms. Prescott, please join me in my command vehicle. We’ll minimize radio chatter until we get to our line of departure.”

The men moved to form into the three teams.

“Are there any questions?”

Buster raised his hand. “What about some fucking ammo? I don’t want to run into some building with just my dick in my hand.” His nose looked swollen, and black and blue marks circled his eyes.

Oliver stared at Buster.

Had the big man finally crossed the line with Oliver?

“Your concern is well founded, Mr. Tyson, although your rhetoric is not.”

Buster tilted his head as if he had no idea what Oliver had just said.

“We will issue ammunition at the line of departure. Are there any other questions?”

No one spoke.

“All right, it’s 1804 alpha. We’ll move at 1900 hours. Go into the farmhouse. Specialist Benson has food for you. There will be no drinking.”

The men seemed frozen in place, their eyes fixed on Oliver.

He looked around again. “Any more questions? This is your last chance.”

The men looked down, off to the side, anywhere but at Oliver.

“Good luck.” Oliver turned on his heel and walked back toward the barn.