04.20.08
Prepetorial #14: “The Arctic Express”
by John Galt
April 20, 2008
Mike was stunned when his wife and kids accepted the offer to “get out of Dodge” and make a run for it. The “Springfield Slaughter” was all it took for the kids to be totally terrorized and the wife to finally say “okay prepperboy, you were right!” The FEMA food lines in Springfield, MO where over three thousand people deep and when the food ran out a riot ensued. That was met, of course, with harsh action from machine gunners surrounding the area and two Cobra helicopters which quickly dispersed the crowd by killing several hundred civilians in less than twenty minutes of action. The civilians who lived outside of Joplin, Kansas City or middle Missouri have no clue as to what happened but the word of mouth express made sure the word was spread. What was worse was the absolute cut off and censorship of the Missouri media and the internet being shut down. Well, the wife was finally convinced that “holding out” was the stupid strategy and she agreed it was time to make a break for it.
Mike had the “connections” to the now outlawed ‘Patriot’ community that he had met online and that put him in immediate danger. He knew he was just an observer, but the the fact he viewed websites and listened to the radio shows put him on a list as several now absent broadcasters warned when the system crashed in 2009. The new Department of Federal Information (DFI) insured that only the news that was screened and deemed “acceptable” would be all that was dispersed to the sheeple. Considering America’s current situation with German troops protecting the U.N. in downtown New York, that was all he needed to know to get the heck out of town. Mike went down to a friends home he had made connections with on the other side of town and asked him how he was supposed to leave town. This friend said he would arrange a meeting which of course made Mike nervous that he was a FBI plant, but it was too late now, the die was cast.
Mike arrived at the meeting expecting something from a bad 1940’s spy movie but instead was greeted by his contact’s wife who offered lemonade and cookies and the apologized for not having more to offer. Mike was stunned and politely said, “no thank you” and waited for her husband code named “The Turk” to walk out. When he did, he was wearing two pistols in shoulder holsters and there was someone else standing in the kitchen with an AR-15. “Do I call you Mr. Turk?” Mike asked, obviously nervous. The Turk replied, “Turk is fine. So why are you here and if the answer is wrong, the meeting ends now.” Mike stammered “my wife was questioned at her work by Homeland Security and the local police. She fears we are about to be rounded up after I’ve been warning her this had been going on for over a year.” The Turk glared into Mike’s eyes, checking for sincerity and uttered “why didn’t you leave before the new visas were created?” Mike nodded in an embarrassing fashion and uttered “we never thought it could get this bad.” The Turk seemed satisfied with the answer and said “come with me.” Mike was lead downstairs into the basement with the Turk in front and the guy with the AR two steps behind him. The Turk started barking instructions,”Here is where you are to come exactly 7 days from today. Bring only two days worth of clothes, all of your identification papers, banking papers, insurance papers, everything. Leave nothing for the authorities to find as I have to erase you from the system as much as possible. You have to bring me five ounces of gold for each person to travel with you. You will depart north on the Arctic Express escape route then. Do you understand?” Mike stammered out “5 ounces! That’s almost $20,000 for the four of us to make the trip! Where am I to get that?” The Turk replied “that’s not my problem and you only get one shot at this. You are either here in seven days with the money or forget about it.”
Mike left knowing it had to be done. Seven days later, after selling almost everything he owned he was fearful that the fire sale tipped off the authorities. When his family pulled into the driveway of the Turk’s home, the wife came out and motioned him into the garage. They hurried Mike and his family into the basement then into a storm shelter hidden off the side of the basement. “Here’s some food and water. You have to remain down here for forty-eight hours. Did you bring the gold?” she asked somewhat nervously. “Yes, I followed all the instructions, do you want it all now?” Mike asked. “Yes, so we can get you out of here, things are a lot worse now” the wife replied.
The Turk opened the door slowly and asked Mike to bring everything to him and show the papers and more. “We will repaint and renumber your car. In this manila envelope are your new identities, your passports, and tickets to New Zealand. Memorize everything without fail as you will be questioned several times before you land in New Zealand. You will be driven up to Des Moines the morning after next at 4 a.m. I will ride with you and then we will drive nonstop from there so have your family ready to go. You’ll move in four relays every two hundred miles. Once the last relay occurs and the driver tells you to open your paperwork, you give him the blue envelope and pass the ID’s out to your family. Smile a lot and look normal as you are now Canadian citizens. Have a safe trip and good luck.” The Turk nodded to the family and walked away. The prolonged period of isolation from the news did not help his family’s feeling of unease.
When 0400 arrived a few days later, it was a blessing. A tired but eager family looked the Turk in the eye with that puppy dog look of fear and he said with a chuckle “good day, Eh?” That lightened the mood a bit as they headed into the car and drove away. The Turk took the wheel first telling us all to relax and hang tight as it was going to be a long day. As the Turk hit the first checkpoint the test of the new IDs was upon us and thankfully the State Trooper returned to the window and said “have a nice day” and that was that. The Turk smiled and said to us “don’t get comfortable, it’s the Minnesota stop that worries me.” After changing cars and getting a new driver, the Turk said he was heading home with the car. The new driver, Bill, said it bluntly, “look, I’m all business, do what I say and no one gets hurt. The border crossing is tough enough for one person but an entire family raises red flags. When they demand the DNA sample, do not argue, just do it, smile, and move on.” As we saw the skyline of Des Moines disappear as we moved north, the unease of the situation hit Mike. “Here I am, surrendering my family’s future to a total stranger” Mike thought to himself. And despite all of Mike’s concerns, this new driver Bill got us through. The next morning his children woke up to see the sign for the airport in Winnipeg and everyone seemed relieved. Bill started to pull up to the departure area and passed one more envelope to Mike, which contained one way tickets to New Zealand, a blessing and relief for everyone.
As Mike checked in for the Air Canada flight to Vancouver then on to Wellington, the family started to loosen up, realizing they were soon to start their new life. It was a strange feeling for them, now suddenly becoming “Canadians” to escape a land they used to call home. Now as the plane went wheels up and the airport vanished beneath the clouds, the relief sunk in as the flight attendant handed out snacks and water. After enjoying the usual airline snacks, Mike suddenly felt the urge to take a much needed nap as did my wife and kids. As the kids started to sleep and his wife curled up in her seat, he reclined back and like many passengers drifted off as some horrible movie in French was being played and did not want to see nor hear any of it.
The “thud” of the wheel’s touching down made Mike think that the hop to Vancouver wasn’t so bad but the shocking realization that his hands were restrained with those plastic zip seals the cops used and his mouth was taped up set off a wave of panic. As Mike looked around the plane, everyone had the same look as he did. His wife and kids were crying and the tears streaming down the pieces of tape covering their mouths. They were restrained also and then the announcement which stunned them all was made:
“All of you are under arrest under Homeland Security Article 8, Subsection 196″ the voice boomed out. Mike began to panic inside as the rumor of Article 8 was the reason he wanted to flee; it gave the HSA unlimited authority over detractors, traitors, violators of the Fair Business Act, and anyone who spoke against or fled from responsibility or service to the government. The voice continued, “You will be separated by age, sex and historical files upon departure. Any resistance will be dealt with immediately. Children will be removed off the plane first. Followed by all women over age sixteen, then all men over age fourteen. Please cooperate until you are boarded on to your assigned bus. You are now on a military reservation and escape is not possible. Thank you.”
Ah yes, a long brewing story that I really had a hard time ending. This is not about government oppression, rumored or real. This is not a “Constitutional” op-ed, or fiction designed to stir up feelings of hate against one group or another. This is to cause you, the reader, to focus internally. The difference between this Prepetorial and all of the other ones that have been penned is that your author, that would be “me”, had a hard time concluding the ending to get the point across. The point is simple:
Do not depend on others unless you implicitly know and trust them.
I could go into story after story throughout history of people betrayed by friends but is that important now? To tell the stories again of historical figures betrayed by mentors and friends? IF you are willing to put your family’s lives in the hands of total strangers, then YOU had best be willing to either accept the consequences of a bad decision, or have gotten off your lazy butt to do the due diligence about the other souls to insure YOUR family is not in danger. The story could easily have been about a criminal operation, killing the parents and selling the children off into slavery. It could also have easily been a trap where the money was stolen and the entire family killed. The reality of the story above is that it would not beyond the pale to imagine a multi-nation operation which is designed to capture people who wish to flee in such an environment. Would a new “North American Union” undergoing internal strife in any of it’s nation’s want people to flee to tell the outside world how horrible conditions are? No, it would be a propaganda disaster. And considering the myriad of paths our political elites could choose in the years ahead, it’s not a reach to assume they would want anyone of working age to remain behind and produce in any capacity, be it a blood donor, organ donor or day laborer to keep the machine working, the Constitution be damned. But I digress from the political venting and back to the basic point. Review everyone and anyone who claims to be a “helper” of your family in the trying times being endured now or in the future. The person who claimed to have the key to escape via the fictional “Arctic Express” escape route via Canada could easily be a double agent for the government. This is why friendship, life long friendships, are important to develop when you can. That, if some of you may ask, is why my circle of friends is very closed, and very tight. It is not that I don’t want to add more friends, nor have a lot of friends; God knows I’ve made many online via the message boards and the blessing of the radio program I work on with Steve Quayle. It’s that you have to choose those “close” friends carefully in times like these. Please, I beg of you, do your due diligence and most of all, protect your family first. Do not leave that responsibility to others.
