She heard muffled voices and then the word “snipers”
and stopped in her tracks. Quietly, she moved closer to the
disguised servant’s entrance to the meeting room. With her
ear against the door she could hear them.
“We will be ready on time. Recruitment has gone well and
training has begun,” said a bold voice. “I’ve got the senator
all set, and he assures me that the leadership of the House
is on board.”
“How many casualties are we talking about?” an unsteady
voice asked.
“We’ll start early next year. The total could easily reach
two thousand or more,” the bold voice answered.
There were gasps in the room.
Her heart was pounding as sweat began to bead on her
forehead. Frozen in the dimly lit hidden entrance, she wanted
to run away but her feet wouldn’t move. She leaned into the
darkened corner, trying to disappear into the woodwork.
“I need to know that this ends up the way we want,”
another voice said.
“Sniper teams loose in American cities frighten me. How
can you be certain we can stop them when it’s time?” another
voice asked.
“I have already handled that. There is no risk there,” the
bold voice answered.
“What happens if some of our supporters get cold feet?”
another voice asked.
“The senator has the full support of the necessary cabinet
members, congressmen, and others required to do this. He
guarantees it,” the bold voice reassured them.
She forced herself to move, stumbled, and caught herself.
“What the hell was that?” a voice asked loudly.
There was commotion in the room. People were moving
in her direction. She was trapped.
She stood tall, tried to collect herself, and opened the
door . . .
616 thoughts on “Prologue”