strongest in the country. Things were relatively calm there. The population
seemed to actually like the government. Most of the individualists had left, and Loyalists
poured in from other parts of the state, even from other states. There were genuine
rallies in support of the government there.
Jason had reported this to his superiors in D.C. They came back with a plan: move
the Governor and senior staff to Seattle. They would use the ultra-secure federal
courthouse in Seattle as a headquarters. This was the first good news Jason had heard
in months.
They would move out—secretly, of course—in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve.
No one would be paying attention at that time and, according to D.C, something might
be happening on New Year’s Day in Washington State. No one could know that the Governor
was abandoning Camp Murray, which was supposedly safe behind the super- fortified
JBLM ring. If Camp Murray wasn’t safe enough for the Governor…
Jason was one of about ten people who knew the plan. They would go in one of the commercial
buses taking people into Seattle. There was no need to have a big motorcade that was
a big fat target.
Jason didn’t trust even the FBI or state police EPU unit guarding the Governor, so
he arranged for a diversion motorcade to go out first. He let it slip that the Governor
was going in a motorcade from Camp Murray to the airfield at McChord Air Base to take
a flight to D.C. to meet with the President. If there was a leak, that diversionary
motorcade would get hit. Too bad for the guys in that motorcade. Oh well. This was
tough business.
Jason was packing up his things for the bus ride to Seattle that night. He realized
he didn’t have a single personal item from his months at Camp Murray. Then he saw
it. His stocking. His cheesy little stocking. He took it and put it in the inside
pocket of his tailored suit jacket. At least he had one souvenir from his time in
that God-awful place.
Chapter 255
Todd & Chloe Part II
(December 24)
“So, how much are we talking?” Todd asked the former police officers who were being
paid to guard his posh Bellevue neighborhood.
“Depends,” one of the former officers said. “Where, exactly, do you want to go?”
“Wenatchee,” he said.
“Let’s come up with a plan first and then we can answer the ‘how much’ question,”
said another of the former officers. They looked around their makeshift guard shack
for a few seconds and then asked Todd, “You got a map?”
“Yep,” Todd said, swelling with pride. For once, he was the one who was prepared.
He went back to the Range Rover and knocked on Chloe’s passenger-side window.
“What is it?” she asked with concern.
“I need the map in the glove box,” he said. “They’re going to help us get out of here.”
She smiled, glowing with joy. This was going to work, she thought. They were finally
going to get out of this terrible place and to a safe cabin in the woods with their
former neighbors, Ken and Kim. She opened the glove box and found the old highway
map and handed it to her husband, who was finally being a man, six months into this
nightmare. Better late than never, she thought. She leaned back in the plush leather
seat of the Range Rover and felt like she could finally relax. They were getting to
safety. She smiled for the first time in a long time.
Todd took the map over to the guard station. The three officers unfolded it and started
talking among themselves.
“Once you get a mile from here, it’s bad,” one of them said. “Going through Bellevue
proper is extremely dangerous,” another said, “and the highway from there out to I-90
is spotty.”
“Robberies?” Todd asked, hoping that was the only problem, but knowing that rape and
kidnapping were also common.
“And worse,” an officer said. “But your main problem, and the main thing we can help
with, are the
Aleksandr Voinov, L.A. Witt