299 Days: The Preparation Part 20

Pow looked very serious and said, "Yeah. I was just thinkin' that." Changing the subject before things got too emotional, he said, "Hey, Grant, you got any beer in your fridge?"

"Sure do." They had a great afternoon, talking about all the things they could do out at the cabin if the world ask they knew it ended.

On way back to Olympia, they were still talking about ways to secure their area, gather food, and communications. Pow asked, "What about medical? The hospitals will be closed or whatever."

Grant smiled. "Have I ever told you what my wife does?" "No," Pow said.

"She's an ER doc," Grant said.

"No way," Pow said. He thought Grant was joking.

"I ain't s.h.i.+ttin' you," Grant said, smiling. Having an ER doctor out there was the frosting on the cake.

"Wow," Pow said. "This set up was meant to be. Meant to be, my brother." Pow stared out the window.

"Yep," Grant said. "Meant to be."

Chapter 39.

The Unraveling Grant was still looking for signs that people were starting to comprehend what was happening. He wasn't seeing many. Then something happened that surprised him.

Government started to make cuts. Real cuts, not the "reorganizations" of the past where promises were made to cut, but the total number of government employees and spending actually went up. These cuts were real. The Governor ordered a 10% across the board cut in most state programs. The unions and all the people with their hands out, from welfare recipients to the corporations, went ballistic. It was fun to watch.

None of the higher-up state employees in Grant's neighborhood were getting laid off. The Baby Boomers about to retire kept their jobs while the younger workers making much less were largely the ones losing their state jobs.

Local governments were cutting even more than the state. The City of Olympia, which had one of the highest ratios of government employees to residents in the country, cut a staggering 20% of their workforce. It was unbelievable. A few years earlier, as a "stimulus" project, the city had built a $10 million city hall and now it was largely empty because the city couldn't afford to hire any workers to fill the s.p.a.ce. Cla.s.sic government: spend like drunken sailors when the money is pouring in, and then drastically cut services when the money dries up.

The part of the city's cuts that affected people the most were the layoffs in the police department. Not only were there 20% fewer patrolmen, but the fuel budget was severely cut. Those fewer patrolmen could drive around less. It became rare to see a police car anywhere. The criminals figured this out very quickly. Investigation of crimes that were hard to solve, such as an attack by a stranger or a burglary, were going by the wayside. White collar crime was no longer investigated, at all. Neither were DUIs. Crimes where someone knew who did it, like theft by former friends, were still being investigated.

They were half-a.s.sed investigations, however.

Of course, with the huge cuts at the Prosecutor's Office, fewer and fewer cases were being prosecuted. Plea bargains were the answer, and the deals for criminals kept getting sweeter and sweeter. Predictably, the cops basically quit arresting people for property and drug crimes. There were only enough police and prosecutors to take care of easy-to-solve violent crimes. Many people who had never called the police to report a crime were shocked to learn that they needed to fill out a police report on the city's website and that was it. No police officer would show up to talk to them. People were told to fill out a police report online; that was usually as far as the "investigation" went.

People like Grant, who lived in safe neighborhoods, started to hear about their friends getting burglarized, and even robbed. One of the support staff at WAB had a burglar come into her house late at night. Luckily, she had a gun and scared him out. He might not have only been looking to burglarize her.

Grant started to notice that petty criminals were hanging out together. It used to be common to see one or two dirtbags; now, they seemed to travel in groups. Lately, five or ten "youths" would mill about downtown by the WAB offices looking like they were ready to cause trouble. It would be a stretch to call them a "gang," but they were the beginnings of gangs. "Gang seedlings" Grant called them. They were unemployed punks hanging out together and working together to steal and do worse. In the past, when Grant saw them they would disburse because they didn't want the attention. But as time went on, they didn't do that as much. They would stand there and stare as if to say, "Whatcha looking at, d.i.c.khead?"

Grant had a solution. Carry a gun. He had his concealed weapons permit, so he could. Although he liked his full-sized Glock 22 in .40, it was a little large for concealed carry. So he got a compact Glock in .40, a Glock model 27. Grant knew how to operate the Glock 27 because it was just a smaller version of the Glock 22 he had mastered. It was perfect. He carried two spare 10-round magazines because, with increasingly large packs of criminals, Grant knew that he would likely have to fight off a group of them.

When he couldn't wear a Glock 27, he would slip his 380 auto LCP in a pants pocket. He was armed nearly all the time, even at work. No one knew. He didn't advertise that he was carrying; he didn't want people to think he was weird or, when they needed protection, come flocking to him. He wanted to just lay low and protect himself and his family.

He had to hide his gun from Lisa, of course. He kept it in the car, in a locked console that was legal under Was.h.i.+ngton law.

Grant constantly worried about Lisa being out and about with all the crime going on. She was a pet.i.te and beautiful woman. That thought was awful.

He tried once to suggest that she get consider carrying a gun.

She rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. That hurt. All he was trying to do was suggest a practical way to protect his wife. But, decades of Lisa's upbringing that guns are weird and unnecessary was too strong to change. This was despite all the stories of people she knew who had become victims of crime. Carrying a gun was just... something a normal person didn't do.

Grant tried a second time to convince her. His birthday was coming up and she asked him, "What would you like for your birthday?"

"I'd like something that doesn't cost anything and makes me very happy," he said with a smile.

"You already get too much s.e.x," she said with a grin.

"Well, you'll need to get your hands dirty for what I have in mind," he said with that same bedroom smile.

"You sicko," she replied.

"I mean getting some ink on your fingers when you get your fingerprints taken for your concealed weapons permit," Grant said. "I am really, really concerned for your safety, dear. Seriously. All joking aside. I'm worried about you. Please do this for me. It's my birthday."

"What's your second choice?" She asked.

That was it. No more talk of her getting a concealed weapons permit. A few days later, one of her friends she went running with was attacked by some teenagers in the parking lot at work. Grant didn't even bother to say anything resembling "I told you so." It was a lost cause. Grant hoped - actually, prayed - for the best.

At the same time criminals were learning that they could practically get away with anything, the economy started sucking even more. Why even attempt to have a legitimate job? There weren't any. Crime paid; literally.

Grant was at the grocery store with Manda and Cole one Sat.u.r.day. All the prices were way higher. It happened suddenly. Cole's favorite pancakes had been $2.79, and now they were $4.15. That kind of price increase was typical for other foods. Gas was going up, too, almost one dollar per gallon at a time. Suddenly, there were shortages of medical supplies and prescription drugs. A significant portion of the population was on at least one prescription drug. They had never been told by a pharmacist, "We're out of that." They couldn't believe it. Didn't their prescriptions just appear at the store and someone else paid for them?

Police check points were springing up. They police asked people to "voluntarily" allow them to search their vehicles; most did.

In Olympia, there were increasing numbers of traffic jams from all the protests due to all the budget cuts and high prices.

People were starting to figure out that things weren't going so well.

About time.

Chapter 40.

We Have a Fight on Our Hands Rebel Radio was going strong. There was so much to talk about, like the fact that ma.s.sive government budget cuts were suddenly needed, for one. How did this situation get so out of control that these huge cuts, like letting criminals out of prison, were necessary in the first place? For the first time, people were actually asking this question. Rebel Radio had the answers.

The podcast was growing by leaps and bounds. Over 5,000 people regularly downloaded the weekly broadcast. Bloggers were talking about Rebel Radio. Conservative and libertarian bloggers loved it, and progressive bloggers demonized it. Progressives in Was.h.i.+ngton State made Rebel Radio public enemy number one. There was speculation about the ident.i.ty of the "Rebels" as Grant and the other podcasters were called. People in government were figuring out it was the WAB guys.

One of the government people most concerned by Rebel Radio was Rick Menlow. He hated the fact that one of his former employees was thought to be one of the Rebels. He also hated the fact that the podcast seemed to have inside information about the lack of reform coming from the State Auditor's Office.

This p.i.s.sed him off because his campaign for Governor was in full swing. He was running as a "moderate Republican" and really needed the establishment to like him. His trusted campaign adviser was Jeanie.

Grant kept in regular contact with her. He wanted to gather intelligence on what the state agencies were doing. She wouldn't tell him anything too specific, just the general situation in the Auditor's Office. She didn't want to get in trouble because she needed her job, just like everyone else did. She also hated what Menlow was doing. He was betraying people like her and it was sweet revenge to whisper gossip to Rebel Radio.

One day, Grant was talking to Jeanie about Menlow's run for Governor. "How in the world does a Republican think he could win in this state?" Grant asked.

"He's counting on the budget disaster to get him into office," Jeanie said. "The worse things get, the better for him so he can run on **change.'"

"But the worse things get, like all the government employee layoffs, the more of a government *safety net' people will want," Grant said. "So they won't vote for a government-cutting Republican."

Jeanie laughed. "Who said anything about Menlow being a *government-cutting Republican?' He will be a *new' Republican who will run government more efficiently, saving money that can be spent to help people." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, but she was serious.

"So he'll spend just as much money, but be the *change' people want?" Grant asked.

"Yep," Jeanie said. "It just might work. Especially if we get a tape of the current Governor running over a little kid in an intersection." It was important to remember that Menlow got into office by accident.

Menlow's campaign strategy was the topic of the next Rebel Radio. Menlow was furious. He didn't suspect Jeanie as the source because he had been bragging to so many Republican legislators and others about his brilliant strategy.

WAB started to pay a price for Rebel Radio. WAB was a tax- exempt trade a.s.sociation, but the IRS selected WAB for a "random" audit. They started coming up with "interpretations" of the tax regulations, and hinting that WAB might owe millions in taxes for its "for-profit" work. What "for-profit" work? They were a typical trade a.s.sociation; they didn't make a "profit."

The state Department of Revenue decided to do a "random" audit, too. The state unemployment insurance agency piled on, too, looking for past unpaid unemployment insurance premiums that should have been paid. Even with their creative "interpretations," DOR and the unemployment agency did not find any violations. When they reported that to the Governor, it just made her angrier. They had to find a way to shut down WAB.

Nancy Ringman's phone rang; it was the Governor.

"Yes, Governor," Nancy said. She listened to the Governor's short description of the WAB problem.

"I share your concerns about WAB, Governor," Nancy said. "I will personally look into whether they might be committing any campaign finance violations. A hate group like WAB must be violating some campaign law. I will keep you updated on my progress."

Nancy put down the phone and felt warm all over. "OK, Grant Matson," she said to herself. "Payback time."

Nancy Ringman was a bully. She wore business attire and had a peace sticker on her Subaru, but she was a bully. Grant had been fighting bullies like her his whole life. He would fight them even more in the near future.

A few days later, a process server came to WAB. The Campaign Finance Commission, headed by Nancy Ringman, filed a suit asking for a $10 million fine and scheduled a court hearing for later that same day to get a court order to seize WAB's bank account. That was necessary, the court papers said, because WAB was a "continuing criminal enterprise" violating the campaign finance laws and using the money in its bank account to do so. CFC needed to have control of WAB's bank account to "prevent further violations." After going home to change into a suit, Grant ran off to court and tried to reason with the judge.

The judges in the county where the state capitol was located were friendly toward government. The judge who received the request to seize WAB's bank account was, like Nancy Ringman, a good friend of the Governor. The judge signed the court order allowing the seizure of the bank account. CFC was ordered to continue paying the salaries of WAB staff unless it found a reason not to. The financial lives of WAB staff were held in the hands of a hostile Nancy Ringman. It happened so quickly.

Ted Foster, the head of WAB, was unfazed. "Well, gentlemen, looks like we have a fight on our hands." He had halfway expected something like this, given how hard WAB was. .h.i.tting the government. He was surprised that the bank accounts had been seized, however. "Rebel Radio stays on the air. We fight on." Ben, Brian, and Grant were relieved.

It felt like a war had begun. Grant had never been in a war, but a.s.sumed this was what it felt like. He rallied around his guys. There was a huge and evil threat. Things looked bleak. But Grant knew who would win in the end. Just not how.

Chapter 41.

Tough on Crime The CFC suit and bank account seizure actually wasn't as bad as WAB thought at first. Their paychecks kept coming. It would take CFC months of gathering all of WAB's financial records to see that WAB hadn't done anything wrong. If anything, WAB was overly compliant with the campaign finance laws because they knew something like this might happen. In fact, Nancy Ringman was actually worried that she couldn't find any violations. The Governor would be p.i.s.sed.

The Legislature was in session, which was never a good thing. How would they address the budget deficit? Raise taxes, of course. The necessary increases were staggering. A 66% increase of the property tax, a 250% increase of the corporate tax, and a 50% increase in the sales tax. The Governor knew that she must do this to try to bring in money. She also knew that the more she raised taxes, the less business activity there would be, and the less tax revenue. She decided to go down in state history as a "leader" who made "tough choices." She would do it and not run for another term. Besides, who would want to be Governor with all these messes?

Rick Menlow, that's who. When Menlow got wind of the Governor's proposed ma.s.sive tax hikes, he knew that she could not possibly be attempting to run for another term. And no Democrat could get elected when their party had just raised taxes like that. Menlow knew he would be the next Governor.

Menlow felt a surge of adrenaline. Then he felt... it was hard to describe... a darkness. A happy darkness. He felt like the darkness was saying that he was getting something he wanted, but that the darkness would be back to tell him what he needed to do in return.

The economy was the worst anyone had ever seen. People were scared. It seemed like everyone was out of work. People started to use the "D" word of "depression." The term "D2," for Second Great Depression, was starting to be used. Up until this point, everyone on TV had been referring to the economic situation as a "recession." This wasn't any little "recession."

Crime was getting worse. It had grown slowly when the police quit patrolling. Now it was everywhere. Not a complete breakdown of law and order, just rampant crime. It was like Detroit. In fact, people started referring to the slowly unfolding Collapse as the "Detroit- ification" of America.

Amid the virtual bankruptcy of Was.h.i.+ngton State, the Legislature decided to go to the easy plays from their political play book: crack down on crime. It was far more popular than reducing the size of government spending. Democrats loved "tough on crime" legislation because it helped them get over their 1960s image as being soft on crime. Republicans loved "tough on crime" legislation because... well, they were Republicans. The Governor wanted to appear in control of the whole mess so she could call for tougher and tougher measures.

Of course, increasing prison terms for crimes that were going uninvestigated and unprosecuted wouldn't do much. Besides, increasing prison sentences would make the state's financial crisis worse because it meant spending more for prisons. The state was being forced to release prisoners because it couldn't afford to keep them. So no one, not even the mind numbed zombie voters, would go for increasing prison sentences. The state needed to do something else to show they were cracking down on crime.

The Legislature pa.s.sed a package of "temporary" laws to make it easy for the police to search people at the new checkpoints and to enter homes without a warrant. The checkpoints were usually a police car or two at a key intersection stopping traffic and asking people for their ID. The police didn't search every car; they didn't have the resources for that. The main reasons the ineffective checkpoints were set up were to make citizens feel safe and to show them that the authorities were in charge.

This wasn't "martial law"; it was an expansion of the powers the civilian police already had. A really big expansion. Most of the voters ate it up. "Something needs to be done," they said.

The Legislature attempted to pa.s.s some strict gun control laws, but didn't have the votes. People in Was.h.i.+ngton State, while progressive as a whole, still wanted guns. They saw the packs of punks milling around their neighborhoods. They might tell their progressive friends that they supported gun control, but they were the ones flooding places like Capitol City Guns. That surprised Grant. He figured the state was so far gone that gun control would pa.s.s easily, especially in a crime wave. He was glad to be wrong about that.

One small provision of the new "tough on crime" law that went largely unnoticed was a huge expansion of the civil forfeiture law. This law allowed the police to seize (without a warrant) anything of value involved in a crime or suspected crime. For example, if a car were suspected of being used by a criminal, the police could seize it, send the owner listed on the registration a certified letter, wait ten days, and then sell it, and keep the money. That last part was the key.

The police had a profit motive to grab as much stuff as they could; guns, houses, boats. Of course, the overworked police who couldn't investigate crimes had plenty of time to send out certified mail letters to owners and to sell their bounty. It was a great way to fund police departments without raising taxes. It was also government- sanctioned theft. But it only affected criminals. Right?

No; it affected anyone unlikely enough to have their property stolen first by a criminal and then by the police. For example, when a criminal stole a car, used it to rob someone, and then got caught, the car - stolen from an innocent victim - was sold after ten days. The law abiding owner who had her car stolen was now the victim; the government had taken her car, but if she didn't get the letter within ten days and go through the process of proving she wasn't a criminal, then they got to keep the proceeds. The innocent victim had to prove her innocence. Civil forfeiture was a civil, not criminal, law so the burden of proof could be on the citizen to prove innocence. Many innocent crime victims were having their things stolen by government. There were more and more stories to describe on Rebel Radio, just like there were more and more p.i.s.sed off people who used to trust government and now hated it. Things were getting out of hand, quickly.

Grant went into Capitol City Guns to get a reality check. Hanging out with lawyers and lobbyists was not reality. Gun store guys; that's reality. Special Forces Ted was there with Chip and a Sheriff's deputy. Grant avoided talking to them because they might be talking business. Chip motioned for Grant to come over. The deputy looked a little nervous about having Grant join the conversation.

Chip introduced Grant to the deputy. "Jeff, this is Grant. He's a lawyer and has shop privileges here, so he's cool. I trust Grant with my life. So tell him what you were telling us."

The deputy looked a little nervous but said, "Some of us are a little concerned at all the stuff that's happening. That civil forfeiture thing is a frickin' racket. My guys..."

Ted asked, "Oath Keepers?"

"Yeah, Oath Keepers," Jeff said. "We are starting to wonder when this s.h.i.+t crosses the line and violates our oaths. Any thoughts from the lawyer?" Jeff asked Grant.

Grant thought. "I think the civil forfeiture laws are unconst.i.tutional, but I don't think it's to the level of an unlawful order. You're not being ordered to round people up or take all lawful firearms. You could ask to be rea.s.signed so you don't have anything to do with the forfeitures."

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought." They were all quiet for a few seconds.

Jeff said, "Here's what bugs me the most. The majority of my fellow deputies don't seem to be bothered by this *crime wave' and the crackdown. They are kind of excited to be out fighting it. They feel like they are more needed than ever because there are so many crimes out there. They're not seeing the bigger picture. I'm kinda concerned."

More silence. s.h.i.+t, this was not good. Grant had always counted on Oath Keepers to prevent his kind of thing. It looked like it wasn't working. This might be even worse than he thought.

He looked at his watch and realized he needed to take off. He said goodbye to the guys and headed home. It was another one of those drives from Capitol City to his home where he had things to wrestle with, like the police and military deciding to fight the government, or not, as today seemed to indicate.

He could think about that the entire drive, but when he hit that garage door opener, it would be all about doing homework with the kids and going to ballet lessons. These two worlds were getting farther and farther apart. And the real world of nastiness was becoming more and more apparent and less theoretical. It was scaring the h.e.l.l out of Grant.

What really scared Grant, though, was what was happening when he walked into his house. Lisa was sitting on the couch with Cole.

"OK, Cole," she said, "what do you do if a stranger comes in our house and Mom or Dad aren't here?"