he blood, the gore, the atrocities of the human against members of its own species, can and has sank to lows unthinkable.  These lows come usually at the price of devoiding someone else of survival.  The statement 'survival of the fittest' does not pertain merely to the better physically able alone, but, to the one who was fittest in many fields, many of which were determined by means of a four letter word called: luck.

Even the Bible spoke of time and chance happens to all.  The fittest might be lucky in many circumstances in that they had the benefit of sometimes even unfair advantage.  But, in the art of survival, fair is a word that is seldom used.  In survival there is no such thing as fair or unfair. There is an old saying "All is fair in love and war."  In survival the only thing that counts is simply that: survival.  Because survival is the ultimate goal in any war.

Good luck might find you many times.  But eventually, one will run up against you with the tables turned toward him.  And no amount of conditioning, either physical or mental, would matter.  That's why it pays to prepare in everything one does.  Especially in survival situations.

William had been seated at the booth for over an hour in consideration of such things.  In his mind he plotted various situations in which he could give his recruits every advantage possible.  The operatives he used were no longer men in their prime, but men, many times who were devoid of health, physical strength, and sometimes, even a little bit lacking in the mental department.

But he knew the Patriot fires can burn in the hearts of men who had been turned out to pasture years before.  Their minds most of the time were sharp, the training they endured and secured as young men in their prime in the armed forces still at a keen edge.  Above 99% could still spit out their service number extremely fast with no hesitation.  They could march, they still knew codes and sometimes vast groups of numbers played over in their heads thousands of times in the midst of war.

Here is an exceptional read by one such man with Patriotic fires still burning:

Many soldiers could relate with exceptional clarity the look in the eyes of the first man they ever killed with a military rifle.  Many years, sometimes even on their deathbed, they can still see those eyes.  It was this kind of clarity and mental stability for which he searched for the upcoming mission.  The mission called for several operatives, and the mission must needs be organized on a first name basis.  Most of the missions he sanctioned, he never knew the name of the operatives; only a designated name.

This was just one means of protecting both sides of the equation.  One could not give information they did not possess.  William had a cyanide pill, not even as large as a grain of rice, inserted into one of his teeth.  If he were ever captured, to prohibit relating what little information he did know about his comrades and colleagues, he could easily dislodge the cap and pierce the pill.  Death was certain and extremely fast.

He would rather die than to jeopardize the safety of a mission or the lives of his friends.  The pill he had inserted into his own tooth had been removed from a Russian operative.  The man had died prior to using the pill.  The dentist who performed the root canal and inserted the pill warned that it was a very risky endeavor, and that many men had died due to leakage or accidental puncture of the pill.

William was well aware of the dangers.  But the choice was his, and he chose to be prepared to defend his country, his fellow patriot, his God.  Even to the laying down of his life for same.  But he was not prepared to go into torture with the knowledge he had that could ruin so many of his comrades and missions as well.

The preparations he was making now were mostly in his mind.  He seldom committed anything to paper if he could help it.  He just didn't want that information available for pickings by unscrupulous or enemy factions.  Many men, sometimes whole platoons, sometimes whole battles lost because of the indiscretion of using a piece of paper.

And sometimes the very same thing could be used in reverse.  The story of a man found dead with military secrets in a leather sheath secured on his body turned the tide of a whole battle and helped in winning a war.  The corpse was a setup, the information false but the operation was very successful.  This was used by the English in WWII to fool the Germans.  William hoped to use much the same ingenious plan in an operation coming up soon.

One of the men he'd used on several occasions, was now nigh unto death.  The Russians were getting closer all the time to his organization, and they were intent on recapturing the huge load of arms they'd lost to him and his men.

In his list of missions he'd seen old men do wondrous and even mighty works, seen victory after victory that he sincerely doubted younger men could have pulled off.  Simply because of the fierce fire of Patriotism burning hot in their veins.  They were unfearing, many times going up against men who could break them in half.

William had never sent men on a suicide mission.  The men were told up front of the dangers and given the chance to pass the mission onto another.  Thus the term, Last Mission Accepted.  But few would pass.  Not only would they would serve with honor, but with distinction, courage.  In essence, they were able to pull off what seemed was nothing short of a miracle.

William thought of a story of how a US Navy ship sank in the Pacific during WWII, several men floated around for seventeen days before being found, their numbers greatly diminished each day.  They had seen their friends so thirsty they would drink the sea water and watch as they succumbed from it.  They watched as suddenly one would be pulled violently under water by some unknown sea monster of a fish.  Sometimes the men would be cut in half by the bite, then sink into oblivion where the remaining part of the body would be consumed.

The name of the ship that was sunk near the end of WWII was the USS Indianapolis.  Around 850 (out of 1150) went into the water, around 320 came out.  Read about it.

When an amphibious plane found them, he radioed their position then landed on the water near them, and having a very limited supply of fresh water, could only give each a capful of water.  He handed the cap with the fresh water in it to the man closest to him and said pass this cap down to the one on the end.  Even though the thirst was nigh unto death for each one, they valiantly passed the cap down, and passed it back to be refilled for another.  Not one failed to pass the lid down to those waiting for their own turn a sip of life giving water.

That act alone touched that pilot so deeply that he wept, and many, many times, he wept over it in later years and for the rest of his life he wept when he told of that incident.  It showed him the love and integrity of the men who were thrown into a predicament together.  He then took as many as that old plane could haul and said he'd be back as soon as he possibly could.  He wound up coming back again with more water this time and picking up another load.

Finally a rescue ship arrived and sent out small rescue boats.  The men were so weak they couldn't even swim to the small boats sent to pick them up.  Were it not for the floatation devices they had on, they would have perished days ago.

The integrity, the honor, the love and respect for his fellow man, is the same fire found in those who fought for freedom now.  The fire that Americans fought for throughout America's history was stoked by Freedom.  And it was that same fire that flowed through the veins of these men.  To die for one's country was the ultimate sacrifice, and all for one word: Freedom.  To be given the chance as an older man with the chill of his winter on him the chance to die for his country in one last mission, was the greatest honor ever given them.

Out of the hundreds of missions, few men passed on a mission, and, then only because of circumstances they could not overcome.  There was no doubt about it.  They fought with the same fervor of the younger Russians they came against.  William was still amazed at some of the heroic exploits they'd pulled off.  Exploits such as snapping a pistol into place and firing two shots instantly killing the man covering them with finger on the trigger of an AK 47.

That single incident took place by the hand of one of the Four, Williams own hand picked and chosen man, George Gacy.  These were mighty men, although to see them on the street, one would not be impressed in the least as to their physical attributes.  The old man who had pulled this off had volunteered for perhaps the most dangerous mission to date.  He would be the one to create a hole in a guarded wall, hold off the onslaught of guns long enough for his men to bring their own guns to bear in a coming mission.

A rather large stash of weapons nearly as large as the first had been discovered by one of the Patriots of the Patriot Gentleman's Club.  He had somehow stumbled onto the heavily guarded and defended place in a mansion just outside the city limits of Austin.  The rolling hills surrounding the valley in which the mansion lay kept it completely hidden.  The dense foliage and undergrowth made passage almost impossible.

Across a clearing which surrounded the house to create a clear field of fire, the volunteer meadow grass was maybe fourteen inches in height.  The large brush had been cleared back some hundred or so yards from the wall surrounding the hideout.  What had become of the occupants was unknown.  Who the current occupants were was also a mystery at this point.  But somehow, App-3113a had managed to get through without discovery and happened upon the place happenstance.

William was amazed that there was no electronic surveillance, motion detectors, heat sensors, vibration detectors or myriad of other technology in use around the place.  Especially when they learned what was being hidden and stored there.  Valuable big guns, some as large as four inch guns on dollies were in there.  William also suspected drugs, caches of American dollars (which would be of little value if the economy was to crash), and one General Sherman Randolph.

General Randolph had been grabbed just a little over a week ago and William shuddered at the thoughts of what he had probably been through in the efforts to get information from him.  He was no young stud by a long shot.  He had went into forced retirement after twenty-five years, and immediately, he took up the fight again for his country.

And now, they were going to make a try for the rescue of the General.  Sometimes, captives would be in a room loaded with explosives with which a single button could be pushed and all would be killed in one fell swoop.  William actually suspected it was the Russians that had him.  They were especially cruel and were good at it as well.

Gaylon Hamlin and George Gacy were to meet him at the firehouse in less than an hour so it was time for him to go.  But a quick glance toward the door showed him he might have a problem.  Standing there was a couple of Russian henchmen, and they seemed to be interested in him.  He casually felt his XD to make sure it had a shell chambered.  Why he did that, he did not know.  He ALWAYS carried his pistol with a round chambered.

But to fire in an enclosed area, and as close as this small restaurant was, would be the absolute last choice.  But he would if he had to.  The knife would be sufficient although the results were quite slow in achieving success.

He casually stood up and dug around in his pocket for a couple of dollar bills to place on the table, palming his knife in the process.  If they got him, he would gut one if he did not manage anything else.  The knife was razor sharp and the blade was nearly six inches in length.  One slash of that knife would ruin a man.

William strode to the cash register just to the right of the door and chatted with the owner while he made change, deliberately extending his time there.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the men casually walk past him through the foyer door, coming to a halt and standing just inside the outer door.  The other man had walked to the other side of William so as to position himself behind William.  His mind racing, he was quickly putting together a plan of operation while he asked the cashier about his daughter and wife.

The Russian was getting impatient and wanted the operation to commence.  He started edging directly toward William in an attempt to herd him out the door like a sheep.  But, William was no sheep.  He was a sheep dog!  Sheep dogs don't take to being herded!  One who had fangs and not only knew how to use them, would use them with deadly force.  Gutting a man like a fish was not a problem when he was threatened.

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Chapter XI