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    EmP: Nuclear Winter
    EmP: Nuclear Winter
    EmP: Nuclear Winter
    Ebook338 pages5 hours

    EmP: Nuclear Winter

    By TD Barnes

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    About this ebook

    Nuclear Winter, Book One of the EMP Series, TEOTWAWKI, "The end of the world as we know it" becomes real as the planet reels from an orbital EMP attack that leads to a global nuclear war.
    The ensuing nuclear winter blankets the planet, killing off 90 percent of humanity.
    Defense Intelligence Agency electronic whizz, US Army Col Thomas Bradley, takes command of a mixed assortment of survivors taking shelter in the uncompleted Yucca Mountain Nuclear Waste Repository in Nevada.
    They fight for their survival as an army of militant survivors takes siege in an attempt to destroy them for their sanctuary. Spanning two years, they learn how to survive living underground, not knowing what to expect when they can finally emerge.
    After two years underground, they find roving storms carrying radioactive fallout now besieging the planet devoid of the survivors' calendar seasons once knew. Worse yet, the survivors learn that they are still at war with the Islamic jihadists who started the war in the first place. The nuclear winter returns to force the survivors back into their underground refuge.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTD Barnes
    Release dateMar 10, 2013
    ISBN9781301102921
    EmP: Nuclear Winter
    Author

    TD Barnes

    TD BarnesDOB: January 25, 1937Place of Birth: Dalhart, TexasCurrent Address: 468 Palegold St., Henderson, NV 89012Phone: (702) 481-0568, Fax: 566-4168, e-mail: tdbarnes@me.comURLs:http://area51specialprojects.com/http://roadrunnersinternationale.com/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ThorntondBarnesTwitter: https://twitter.com/ThorntonDBarnesBlog: td-barnes.com/blog/Smashwords Interview: https://www.smashwords.com/interview/area51spSmashwords profile page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/area51spLinkedIn: www. LinkedIn.com/profile/edit?trk=tab_proThornton D. "TD" Barnes, a multifaceted individual with a background in military intelligence, surface-to-air missile and radar electronics, and aerospace, was born in Dalhart, Texas, and raised on a ranch near Clayton, New Mexico, and Dalhart, Texas. His childhood during World War II instilled a passion for technology exploration, which he carried into adulthood. After completing high school in Oklahoma, 17-year-old Barnes embarked on a ten-year military career, beginning with service in Korea as an intelligence specialist and Germany as a HAWK missile man. During his time in the Army, he honed his missile and radar electronics skills, focusing on countering Soviet threats. He also attended the Artillery Officer Candidate School before a military injury altered his career path.Transitioning to aerospace pursuits, Barnes became involved in significant projects at NASA's High Range in Nevada, contributing to the X-15 program, atomic bomb tests at the Atomic Energy Commission’s Nevada Proving Grounds, and the NERVA nuclear rocket project. He furthered his involvement in secretive projects by participating in the CIA's Mach 3 A-12 Project OXCART and stealth initiatives at Area 51.Beyond his aerospace endeavors, Barnes founded and led an oil and gas exploration company for over four decades, delving into uranium and gold mining ventures. He has dedicated himself to preserving the history of Area 51, serving as president of Roadrunners Internationale and as the Nevada Aerospace Hall of Fame Director Emeritus. His contributions have been featured in documentaries on major networks like the National Geographic Channel, the Discovery Channel, the Fox News Channel, and the History Channel.Barnes is also an accomplished author, with notable works about the Cold War, including "The Secret Genesis of Area 51,” "The CIA Area 51 Chronicles,” and " CIA Station D - Area 51. Currently residing in Henderson, Nevada, he continues to exert influence in aerospace, exploration, and literature, focusing particularly on the formerly highly classified aspects of the CIA’s era at Area 51.

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      Book preview

      EmP - TD Barnes

      NUCLEAR WINTER

      Book 1 of the Nuclear War Series

      By: TD Barnes

      Copyright 2024 TD Barnes

      All Rights Reserved

      Table of Contents

      Preface

      Chapter 1 - The Clouds of War

      Chapter 2 – First Strike

      Chapter 3 - Jackass Flats

      Chapter 4 - Armageddon

      Chapter 5 - Siege of the Mountain

      Chapter 6 - A New Beginning

      Epilogue

      About the Author

      Dedication

      I dedicate this book to my partner, my lovely wife, who has supported and shared my foxholes and challenges of life since high school. There's no one that I would rather have at my side should I ever experience the circumstances depicted in this book.

      Preface

      In the desolate expanse of Jackass Flats, Nevada, our gripping tale unfolds. Nuclear Winter thrusts readers into a world reeling from the aftermath of an electromagnetic pulse attack on the United States followed by a global nuclear war.

      Against the backdrop of an unraveling civilization, a small mining and ranching community seeks refuge within the confines of the Yucca Mountain Nuclear Waste Repository, nestled under the vigilant gaze of the Nevada National Security Site. Led by a stranded US Army colonel and his wife and the Nevada National Guard first responders, this disparate group of survivors—comprised of the local population, primarily ranchers and miners, joined by government professionals from Area 51, the Nevada Nuclear Security Site, and Homeland Security—band together to brave the encroaching nuclear winter. Confined in their underground sanctuary, they endure significant lifestyle changes akin to sailors on a ship or astronauts in space, under the rule of martial law.

      Within the mountain's cavernous depths, these resilient survivors must confront the myriad challenges of a post-apocalyptic existence while defending against relentless assaults from a militant faction determined to seize their refuge. Over two tumultuous years, they master the art of subsistence beneath the Earth's surface, their unwavering determination fueled by the dream of a brighter tomorrow.

      In this gripping debut, Nuclear Winter: TEOTWAWKI - The End of the World as We Know It, the world plunges into its darkest hour as an orbital electromagnetic pulse triggers a catastrophic global nuclear conflict. Ninety percent of humanity succumbs to the merciless grip of nuclear winter.

      Chapter 1 - The Clouds of War

      Five astronauts and cosmonauts floated weightlessly in the International Space Station, unwitting witnesses to the unfolding apocalypse below. From their vantage point high above Earth, they watched as the planet descended into chaos, a grim symphony of destruction orchestrated by the hand of mankind itself.

      It began with ominous blips on screens in the sanctum of NORAD's command center, signaling rocket launches tracing deadly arcs across the sky. China became the flashpoint, the epicenter of a cataclysmic chain reaction that engulfed South Korea and Russia before spreading to other nuclear nations.

      But the full horror of humanity's folly wasn't witnessed from terrestrial command centers; it was from the cold expanse of space. Cut off from communication channels, the astronauts and cosmonauts aboard the ISS drifted in silence, severed from the world they once knew.

      As they orbited the Earth, they beheld the birth of mushroom clouds, grotesque sentinels rising above once-thriving cities now reduced to smoldering ruins. With each rotation, the scope of devastation widened, flames consuming entire metropolises in their wake.

      Below, death came much slower as the planet plunged into a nuclear winter, a consequence of the vast amounts of smoke, soot, and ash ejected into the atmosphere by countless detonations. Temperatures plummeted, sunlight dwindled, and weather patterns shifted, disrupting ecosystems and agricultural productivity.

      Cut off from resupply missions, condemned to a fate of slow decay amidst the stars, the astronauts and cosmonauts could only watch as humanity's folly led to its own demise. And on Earth, amidst the devastation and despair, only a fraction of the population remained, struggling to survive in a world forever altered by the folly of war.

      T minus 21 days

      The Defense Intelligence Agency’s Missile and Space Intelligence Center - Redstone Arsenal, Huntsville, Alabama.

      As the latest weather front announced its arrival with a dramatic display of lightning and thunder, the MSIC complex remained oblivious within its heavily guarded walls. Deep inside the main building, a burst of laughter echoed from the fourth-floor conference room, drowning out the sound of the rain pelting against the windows.

      Within the room, a group of six DIA analysts, accompanied by a trio of military personnel and three civilians, gathered around a conference table. Amidst the camaraderie, they exchanged humorous anecdotes, the atmosphere charged with the shared bond of their profession.

      So, there he stood in the officers’ club, began one of the analysts, his voice carrying the tone of mischief. Listening to two drunken air force captains boasting about their toughness.

      Amidst chuckles and smirks, the tale unfolded, recounting a daring display of bravado by their enigmatic boss, a man shrouded in legend within their ranks.

      He pours both shot glasses, the eggs, and their vomit into his beer glass. He chug-a-lugs the entire glass, continued the storyteller, the incredulity evident in his tone. Now, that is what I would call gravitas.

      The reaction was mixed, with some expressing revulsion while others chuckled at the audacity of their superior.

      Yuk! That’s gross, interjected the army female, her comment met with agreement and further laughter.

      But the stories didn't end there. Another analyst chimed in, regaling the group with tales of their boss's exploits on the battlefield, painting a picture of a true warrior hardened by combat.

      I’ve heard that he's a badass in combat, remarked the analyst, his voice tinged with admiration.

      The conversation shifted to the colonel's remarkable journey, from his humble beginnings to his rise through the ranks, marked by bravery and resilience in the face of adversity.

      I understand he took up electronics before getting his commission and got back into it after being shot up by a sniper, added another, the awe evident in his tone.

      As the rain continued to pour outside, inside the conference room, amidst the laughter and camaraderie, the legend of their formidable leader grew. His exploits became the stuff of military folklore within the walls of the MSIC complex.

      The tales of Colonel Thomas J. Bradley's valor were not mere embellishments; they were etched into his very being, written in scars that bore witness to his courage and resilience. Each mark told a story of battles fought and enemies faced, a testament to his unwavering commitment to duty.

      The deep three-inch scar on his calf was a reminder of the searing heat of Iraq, where hot shrapnel had found its way into his foxhole. Then there were the smaller scars on his shoulder, souvenirs from Afghanistan, where an AK-47 bullet had grazed him during his first tour. But it was the most striking scar, the one that traced a jagged path from his jaw to his throat, that spoke volumes of his bravery. It was a memento from his second tour, a sniper's bullet that had narrowly missed its mark, leaving him with a raspy whisper and a crooked grin.

      As the analysts exchanged stories in hushed tones, their conversation abruptly halted as Colonel Bradley entered the room. Instantly, they straightened up, a mixture of respect and admiration evident in their demeanor.

      As you were, he said, his voice commanding yet warm, as he flipped the sign on the door to indicate the commencement of a classified conference. Good morning, troops, he greeted them with a cheerful smile.

      The room echoed with a chorus of Good morning, sir as the analysts acknowledged their leader. To some, he was the epitome of a military man, a seasoned warrior with a distinguished career. To others, he was an enigmatic figure, equally adept at wielding a weapon as he was at tinkering with electronics to outwit the enemy.

      While many of his engineering accomplishments remained shrouded in secrecy, his combat scars and the trinkets of his service—a Special Ops Rolex watch, an Army ring from OCS, and a beret earned in the heat of Afghanistan—became the stuff of legend. Over time, the stories surrounding Colonel Bradley grew, some bordering on the apocryphal, yet there was no denying his command's unwavering loyalty.

      In the world of military intelligence, where layers of secrecy often obscured the truth, one thing remained clear: Colonel Thomas J. Bradley was a leader worth following, a man whose courage and dedication inspired those under his command to stand ready to sacrifice everything for their colonel and their country.

      With his commanding presence and unmistakable Cherokee heritage, Colonel Bradley took his seat at the head of the conference table, exuding an air of confidence and authority. His rugged physique, honed by years of military service and outdoor pursuits, was a testament to his resilience and strength. Yet, it was his eyes, the windows to a soul scarred by the horrors of war, that spoke volumes of his battles and sacrifices.

      Okay, everyone, he began, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of levity. Let's get started. Rain's on the agenda for today, so tee time's canceled. Looks like it's a day for Uncle Sam.

      His no-nonsense policy regarding notetaking during meetings was well-known among his staff, a measure to prevent the headaches of classifying every doodle or jotting. To Colonel Bradley, the sanctity of classified information was paramount, and he spared no effort in safeguarding it.

      As always, today's briefing is SCI, he reminded them, emphasizing the sensitivity of the information they were about to discuss. So, boys and girls, let's keep it need-to-know.

      Leaning back in his chair, Colonel Bradley assumed his role as the conductor of their Monday morning symphony of intelligence and planning.

      What's the latest from our friends in the terrorist state? he inquired, turning to Sergeant Higgins with a playful glint in his eye. Give us the good news first.

      The sergeant, recognizing his commander's engineering mode, responded with a report from Qom, Iran, which painted a picture of tranquility amidst the region's turmoil.

      Well, sir, began Higgins, his tone measured yet tinged with a hint of irony. It seems spring has arrived in Qom. The river flows peacefully, fishermen line its banks, and life goes on as usual in a nation seemingly at peace.

      As the briefing continued, Colonel Bradley listened intently, his mind already racing with plans and strategies to counter the ever-present threats to national security. Amid uncertainty and danger, he remained a steadfast leader, guiding his team with unwavering determination and resolve.

      Colonel Bradley's leadership style was unconventional, yet highly effective. He fostered an environment where ideas flourished, challenging work was embraced, and the status quo was often met with a healthy dose of stubbornness. Stepping into his engineering mode, he encouraged open dialogue and welcomed dissenting opinions, disregarding traditional military hierarchy in favor of scientific curiosity and innovation.

      His staff, molded in his likeness, were known for their maverick spirit, unafraid to push the boundaries of knowledge, technology, and experience. Under Bradley's guidance, they thrived on the ragged edge of exploration, constantly seeking new solutions to complex problems.

      With a chuckle, Bradley turned his attention back to the briefing. Smartass, he teased, addressing Sergeant Higgins. You must have been watching Al Jazeera TV again. Now, tell me what Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is up to today.

      The sergeant, ever mischievous, replied with a hint of playfulness before adopting a more serious tone. That's the only good news I could find, sir, he began. The increased sanctions on Iran's financial institutions have wreaked havoc on their economy. Shop owners nationwide are feeling the pinch, and there's talk of strikes brewing.

      Bradley's interest piqued, he pressed for more information. What's the word from the Hill? Are they buying into the spin?

      Higgins shook his head. The politicians are singing praises about the effectiveness of the sanctions, but our sources tell a different story. The media might be painting a rosy picture, but there's trouble brewing beneath the surface. Ahmadinejad's recent appearance at a centrifuge facility suggests they're still progressing despite the sanctions.

      Bradley leaned forward, his expression serious. And our source? What do they have to say about all this?

      Higgins hesitated for a moment before responding. They're keeping a close eye on developments, sir. But it's clear that despite the setbacks, Iran isn't backing down anytime soon.

      He says these are the second-generation gaseous diffusion models Iran needs for large-scale operations. The count now is sixteen cascades containing approximately 3,000 steel centrifuges in pairs and standing over six feet tall. Ahmadinejad gave the white coats the old standard pep talk, with enthusiastic praise of Iran’s accomplishments, and expressed plans to increase the uranium enrichment process into a nuclear resonance process. Like usual, he veered from his talking points of this being for the enrichment of uranium for peaceful purposes and slipped into his real intention of producing multiple nuclear bomb devices and of world domination. He ended with his usual rhetoric — spewing threats against the Jews.

      Of course, he did. That little beetle strives for hatred. As we’ve been reporting, this does advance Iran’s uranium enrichment program and proves its feasibility for installment at the central processing facility at Natanz. What do we have on the missile launch?

      More unwelcome news, sir. The Iranians successfully launched a missile at the Iranian Central Desert Missile Range. We confirmed it was an upgraded version of Iran’s short-range ballistic missile, another of the analysts said.

      It will also provide a delivery vehicle for Iran’s first nuclear warhead, Bradley confirmed. He didn’t mention anything about the subject of his next meeting, which mooted much of the information presented by this team. This group provided boots-on-the-ground intelligence often parallel that of the CIA, Central Intelligence Agency. However, they lacked the need-to-know to hear what his cyber and AI artificial intelligence analysts had to say.

      Bradley ran his operations on a compartmentalized and need-to-know basis. Twenty minutes later, the meeting concluded with a new group of analysts from Bradley’s Pacific Rim division to follow. Bradley conducted this meeting as strictly business, starting with him repeating the no pen or paper policy warning. At the same time, a young intern from the secretarial pool replenished the coffee and removed any used coffee cups and water bottles. Bradley first called on SFC Janet Harrison from his systems encryption department for her report.

      Sir, she started in the tone of a briefing. I’ll commence with a report we’ve received about China’s latest weapon upgrades. But, first, I have photos taken of last weekend’s military parade through Tiananmen Square to showcase some of the People's Liberation Army's never-before-seen weapons systems. I didn’t know if you’d want them marked as classified.

      She handed Colonel Bradley a small stack of photos that she removed from an unmarked envelope. Sir, it's my understanding that the Chinese rolled all this stuff through the streets of Beijing to send us a message. They wanted us to have these photos.

      Bradley scanned through them and agreed with her analysis. He said, I see no need to classify these photos taken during a public parade.

      He handed the photos to the analyst sitting closest to him.

      He ordered, Pass them around.

      He looked at Harrison and said, Some of these we knew about. Tell us what we’re seeing, and then continue with your report.

      Yes, sir.

      Harrison stepped behind the person, now reviewing the photo. She retrieved them so she could identify what each represented.

      She held up the first photo for everyone to see. This one is the DF-41 road-mobile intercontinental ballistic missile, which we believe is the most advanced such missile in the Chinese arsenal. Each DF-41 can carry multiple warheads, has a range of about 13,000 kilometers, and represents a leap in survivability over the older DF-5 due to its mobility. It can be launched rapidly because it's solid fueled, offering less time for adversaries to target it.

      She held up the next photo. This is the DF-31AG, another solid-fueled road-mobile intercontinental ballistic missile in service with the People’s Liberation Army Rocket Force. Unlike the more capable DF-41, the DF-31AG missile is believed to be equipped with a single warhead and has a lesser range: 11,000 to 12,000 kilometers.

      Next was the JL-2, a submarine-launched ballistic missile with a range of about 7,000 kilometers and equipped with a single nuclear warhead. Harrison said, The JL-2 represents the core of the Chinese seaborne nuclear deterrent. Each Chinese Type 094 nuclear ballistic missile submarine carries 12 JL-2 SLBMs.

      The next photo showed the DF-26, the so-called Guam killer missile due to its ability to reach the island that is home to numerous US military bases. The DF-26 was a road-mobile intermediate-range missile between 3,000 and 5,500 kilometers. Unlike the DF-41 and DF-31AG, the DF-26 fills both nuclear and conventional roles. When equipped with maneuverable conventional warheads, the missile can target distant enemy bases and ships.

      Harrison waved the next photo for emphasis. This is one of the most intriguing new additions to this year’s parade. It’s the DF-17 hypersonic glide vehicle (HGV). With an estimated range of 2,000 kilometers and the reported ability to carry both conventional and nuclear warheads, the DF-17 can penetrate even well-defended targets with a very high speed, above Mach 5, and a maneuverable warhead. The DF-17 is one of the first HGV-type missiles that has entered service among the world’s most advanced militaries.

      Harrison paused with one photo on display. Both Russia and China are claiming to have hypersonic strike capability. They are trying, but fortunately, we don’t think either has mastered hypersonic flight as we have. This photo is of the DF-100, a road-mobile cruise missile that China claims to have a range of between 2,000 and 3,000 kilometers and capable of flying at hypersonic speeds. If this is true, Their low-altitude flight path makes cruise missiles harder to detect than ballistic missiles. The combination of range and maneuverability enhances China’s long-range strike capabilities.

      She held up another photo. We see here the WZ-8 supersonic reconnaissance drone. It attaches to and launches from a larger aircraft, such as an H-6 bomber, and lands on its own following the completion of its mission. The WZ-8 will allow China to improve its ability to gather intelligence over areas well protected by enemy air defenses.

      Holding up the last photo, she smiled. This is China’s competition to what we have in Nevada at Creech AFB. This is the GJ-2, otherwise known as the Wing Loong 2. It’s an uncrewed aerial vehicle the Chinese military uses in a role equivalent to that of the Reaper in US service.

      She stated, They claim that it's capable of long loiter times and can carry a large payload of missiles and bombs, making it suitable for persistent surveillance over battlefields, precision strikes on key targets, and the ability to support friendly troops in direct fights with an adversary. However, its lack of stealth and speed significantly reduces its survivability over heavily defended enemy targets.

      Harrison returned the photos for their continued view by the others at the table. She looked at Bradley to indicate that she was continuing with her briefing.

      At 2310 hours last night, one of our satellites in high orbit over the Chinese island of Haina noted the energization of the electronics of the CSS-NX-5 that we have under surveillance on the Jin. The satellite successfully inserted the coded script into the missile’s EEPROM circuit.

      Harrison was referring to a Chinese type 094 Jin-class nuclear missile submarine armed with a missile carrying the CSS-NX-5, China’s proudest advancement in PRC warhead miniaturization technology. The United States knew of the Chinese developing this new intercontinental-range ballistic missile, knowing little about it until recently when intelligence identified it was the JL2 submarine-launched, three-stage solid-propellant missile when the Chinese moved it to the port at Haina Island and loaded it onto one of China’s four SSBN submarines.

      Sir, she continued. The satellite most likely detected the missile as it energized to test its target coordinates in preparation for submarine departure. We agree that this could be the beginning of a most highly classified state mission.

      Shit! This explains the sudden display of all their war goodies. They are trying to intimidate us and any other opposition. Bradley nodded his head for her to continue.

      The satellite recognized the opportunity and transmitted the DIA script through the open write hole of the missile’s guidance circuitry. If we’re right, the script should have located, reprogrammed the target coordinates and codes set by the Chinese, and camouflaged the changes.

      Do we have verification?

      No, sir. Not really. We won’t have it unless they launch the missile. We feel comfortable that everything worked as intended and that the embedded script closed the write hole to prevent the detection of the tampering. The satellite downlinked a mission-accomplished signal and resumed monitoring its sector with particular emphasis on this one missile.

      You’re right. Now that we know about the Chinese programming the missile for a target, we have no telling how many satellites and radar sites monitoring it.

      Correct. We know that the satellite tracked the missile leaving the port two hours later aboard the submarine. If it even farts, our satellite will know — and we'll know.

      Bradley flashed a satisfied smile at Harrison’s clearly expressing confidence in the satellite monitoring the missile. Good job, everyone. We have waited a long time for this opportunity to test our missile defense. Nonetheless, we can only hope we don’t see the proof of the pudding of them launching the sonofabitch.

      The last photo is one of a formation of Dongfeng-17 (DF-17) hypersonic missiles. I hope everyone is paying attention to the trivial things in the photos. Some of the troops are carrying a new assault rifle that we haven’t seen before. I think that what we see here is the debut of several strategic and tactical weapons and systems, everything from a new assault rifle on the lower end to China’s strategic nuclear weapons.

      image1.jpegimage2.jpegimage3.jpegimage4.jpegimage5.jpegimage6.jpegimage7.jpegimage8.jpegimage9.jpeg

      Space Intelligence Center. Two hours later.

      The sounds of the worsening storm went unnoticed by Bradley’s administrative assistant while she turned her attention from her computer to answer the ringing phone.

      She glanced at the downburst of rain pelting the window beside her desk while watching a local meteorologist on the office television pointing out storm cells and warning residents about a possible tornado forming 20 miles southwest of the city.

      Hardened by almost a month of similar daily tornado sighting reports, she didn’t think twice about this sighting or the distant siren pelting out a warning.

      Sir, it's DIAC. General Hanson is on line three, her pleasant voice announced through the door, standing open to her boss’s office. The DIAC was the Defense Intelligence Analysis Center at Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling in Washington, DC, and General Hanson, their boss.

      Bradley was expecting the call. He slid aside his morning brief on overnight world events to engage the encryption circuit and answer the phone. Thanks, Annette, he called out to his assistant. Bradley here — good morning, sir.

      Good morning, Colonel. Please stand by on the encrypted line for General Hanson.

      The click of LtGen Ronald Hanson, US Army and director of the Defense Intelligence Agency's phone coming online modulated softly with the faint white static of the encryption circuits. Good morning, Tom, the general said with an air of warning. You’d better take this call sitting down."

      Sir, why do I suspect you intend to confirm the predictions we’re hearing?

      Fox News nailed it. The president just now released another communiqué, again recognizing Iran’s right to become a nuclear state. He's pushing containment rather than backing Israel and our other allies, who depended upon the United States military might for preventing the Iranians from going nuclear. He's at the same time talking tough about the US backing Israel should Iran carry through with their rhetoric about eliminating the Jewish nation.

      Long ago, Bradley had realized and ceased to anticipate his ever making the rank of general despite his being highly decorated. The problem was his refusal to buy into the political correctness bullshit expected of military officers today. His past was now limiting his career because of his Officer ERs noting his numerous scolding and veiled reprimands for candid comments about some politician presently on his shit list. His most recent rant had focused on national politicians and the military brass arguing about deleting the word terrorist in their reports dealing with Muslim barbarities.

      His face reddened with outrage while he released a few dyslogistic adjectives against his commander-in-chief to express his flash of dissatisfaction.

      "That fence-straddling pussy knows he has given Iran,

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