Revealing Revelations by Ric Nero Read Free Book Online Page A

up from his bar stool. “And don’t forget your drink, Thomas.” He heads to the back quickly finagling through the dancing crowd, Shane follows.
    “The hell is this about now?” I ask myself getting up heading to the back as well.
    They walk through a yellow painted wooden door with a black plate with the word ‘Manager’ in gold letters. “Don’t tell me he’s an alcoholic, street brawler and now a bar owner too. Becoming a Chaplain must be all about pay grade,” I say to myself. I walk through as well and close the door behind me. Where I stood now was no longer an average bar. All scent of alcohol and nicotine is gone. The noise from the rowdy crowd and music is virtually inaudible. I look down at the full glass of vodka in my right hand verifying I was still completely sober to make sense of another surprising sight I found almost impossible to believe. There are multiple detailed wall maps from the ceiling to floor. Half opened file cabinets that contain manila folders and multiple landline phones. Comms equipment occupied a small portion of a large metal table in the center of a well-lighted room.
    Bazz walks to the wall map where Shane analyzes what looks like South Africa and says something in a low monologue tone.
    Shane looks at him then turns completely around with a confident look and says, “Trust me, Chap, he’s highly intelligent and very conscience, relax.”
    Bazz tilts his head way back and glass just as high as he finishes his drink.
    “Okay then, let’s get to it,” my heavily intoxicated squad leader says. Shane finishes his drink in the same motion as Bazz. The two walk to the table, sitting down at opposing sides. Looking at me with raised eyebrows.
    “Waiting on me I guess,” I said to the two. I quickly sit down at the table waiting for some type of explanation about this war room. Now sitting at the wide square metal table I put my drink on the floor, hiding the fact that I have yet to drink it because I wanted to be completely focused on what they’re going to tell me.
    They stare at each other in hesitation allowing silence to engulf the room.
    “You two obviously aren’t the two drunks I seen outside,” I said trying to break the ice. But now they just turn their eyes from one another and look at me silently.
    Shane, clearing his throat as he leans forward, puts folded hands on the table and comes out and says it. “Earlier you asked for answers, Thomas.” At this point he sounds completely sober and speaks with conviction. He was clear and focused.
    “America’s war secrets, right?” Bazz asks me leaning back in his seat folding his arms. “Let me ask you this,” Bazz continued on. “Who do you plan to vote for in the upcoming election?” His question caught me by surprise I was uncertain what relevance my electoral opinion could have in this situation.
    “Actually, I didn’t plan on voting.”
    He unfolds his hands and places them on the table while he looks me directly in my eyes. “And why is that?” he asks me while glancing at Shane.
    “Well, Chaplain,” I said, right before he turned up a corner of his mouth and raised his hand high enough to visibly see it shake as a reminder that we can speak completely freely between each other here. “If the election was stolen back in 2004 due to a lackadaisical mistake of lost votes, then our votes never mattered to begin with. Votes are just a ploy to make the multitudes of America feel as though they actually have a say in the decisions of the country. I believe it’s to keep down anarchy in today’s times. If people see that they are under a dictatorship they’ll rebel. So they do all they can to enforce the word “democracy” to keep order, while they continue directing the show.”
    Bazz looks back at Shane, a slightly blood dried Shane snickers and now it’s all eyes on me. “Exactly!” Bazz says ecstatically. He rises from his chair and walks around with his hands folded behind his back, alternating