Chapter 6 -- SVWFFDKIKPDAWIR
Before long they were nearing Chillicothe, the town Jessica had mentioned at
the beginning of the trip. She continued on through the small town and took a
state highway north, and about ten minutes later turned onto a side road,
unpaved but covered with gravel and quite smooth.
"Not much traffic here," she said. "This road runs just a mile, which is how
wide my grandfather's farm is. It's a section and a half, a mile by a mile
and a half. The only traffic that has any business here is ours."
A big place, Carter thought. Almost a thousand acres, and from the looks of
it almost entirely covered with corn. But after about a half mile they came
to a cleared spot, with what looked like a small village. A fairly large house,
but not out of character for a prosperous farmer's house, was surrounded by
several smaller ones, all with large yards.
On the other side of the road were a number of large metal buildings which he
guessed housed farm equipment. As Jessica entered the driveway to the one of
the houses, he saw that further down the road was a large complex of grain
storage bins.
Jessica drove up to one of the houses and stopped in the driveway long enough
for Tommy to get his bag from the trunk.
"See you later," he said and walked towards the house. Jessica took out a small,
cheap phone that Carter guessed was probably a burner, given that they were
probably into some sort of activity that required secrecy.
"Hi Dad," she said to someone. "We're home. Where's lunch?" then "OK, we'll be
there shortly."
"We're just in time," she said. "Lunch is at Granddad's. That's the big house
back there."
They got back in the car and drove up the road to the large house he had
noticed when they arrived. It was perhaps an eighth of a mile or so long,
paved with light grey crushed rocks, but well maintained and almost as
smooth as asphalt. The house was large but not so as to attract attention. It
had a two-car garage and a couple of vehicles were parked outside. Jessica
parked on a small area to one side of the driveway and similarly paved.
"OK," Jessica said . "Here's where you meet the rest of the family."
Carter followed her up to a wide porch at the front of the house. As they
approached the door opened and a man who looked to be in his fifties held it
for them.
"Hi Dad," said Jessica, the greeting accompanied by a light kiss on the cheek.
"This is Darrell, Darrell, this is my dad."
Her father extended his hand, and his handshake was appropriately firm and
brief. He was just about Carter's height, a little slimmer, a not quite wiry
build, but with a suggestion of more strength than was apparent, and looked as
if he would be very fast in his movements when warranted.
"Donald Campbell," he said. "Good to meet you. Did you enjoy the scenery on
the way up, or did you already know there's not much out here between St.
Louis and Kansas City?"
"I haven't travelled around the state much," Carter replied, "but I knew just
about all the people lived there. It's pretty empty out here for a city boy."
"You always lived in St. Louis?" Donald asked.
"Yeah, grew up, went to work and never got around to leaving. Looks like I
wasted just about all of my life."
"You mean your work?"
"Yeah, that was definitely a mistake. Didn't feel that way when I was doing it,
for some reason."
"There was a time when it wouldn't have been," said Donald. "But the country
has gone completely insane, with it being literally a case of the inmates
running the asylum. Or more like the prisoners locking up the guards. Sadly,
there doesn't seem to be any way to fix it.."
He paused before continuing "...is to fix it, properly, by whatever means is
required. But enough of that, that sounds like Tommy."
Jessica stepped over to open the door, and Tommy entered. He had changed
clothes, and was now dressed similarly to Donald and his father.
"Let's go on in," said Donald.
They entered a large room, looking much like the typical living room - a couch
and several chairs around a coffee table near one end, several more chairs
around a large wall-mounted television in the other.
From a doorway across the room another man entered. Carter guessed him to be
in his seventies, guessing that he was the grandfather. He was on the tall
side, probably six feet, and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved khaki shirt.
His son was dressed the same way, except that he was wearing cowboy boots
while his father was wearing casual lace-up shoes. He walked with a cane but
did not seem to lean on it so much as to use as an aid to maintaining his balance.
"Hello, Grandfather," said Jessica, going over to hug him. "We're back,
mission complete. This is Darrell."
"Good to see you," the man replied. "I'm Gordon Campbell. And you've met my son and
granddaughter. And since we're all here and lunch is ready, let's get to it."
They followed Gordon into a dining room with a large table which suggested to
Carter the family might have once been larger. He already knew that Jessica
had lost her mother and brother, and there was no sign of a wife for Gordon.
The meal was just being set by a woman he supposed was a servant, retiring as
the diners entered.
There was not much conversation as they began on the beef ragu, salad and
rolls which seemed to have been made just in time for the meal. Jessica
asked Carter what he wanted to drink, and he requested the iced tea that the
others were having. He had rarely drunk iced tea, as he normally had not
found it appealing. Apparently when it was made the right way, he thought.
Strong and sweet in just the right mix, it was quite good.
Before long the main business of eating wound down, and the talk began.
Gordon began the conversation.
"First," he said, looking at Carter, "let me formally welcome you, and then we'll
try to answer some of the questions you probably have. It will take
quite a while to cover all of it, but if you decide to stay with us we'll
eventually get around to them.
"Very briefly, and I'm guessing Jessica has let you in on some of it, we are
part of, actually the head of, a secret organization. Our purpose is, as you
may have guessed by now, some type of resistance to the destruction of our
republic, which has been well underway for quite a while now.
"As you already know, to most of the population, secret organizations are
viewed with suspicion and, if they happen to visibly possess power, whether
political or financial, fear. Those would be old secret societies like the
Freemasons or some religions. As for the smaller ones that appear
occasionally, notably the ones that oppose the government, are ignored by most
people, unless they attract the attention of the authorities and are become
targets for destruction. So we don't draw attention to ourselves.
"I'm getting old, and not able these days to be active beyond planning and
organization, and providing financial support. That I can do, as my fortune
is considerable. Nothing like the filthy rich who control the country by
their political machinations, economic manipulation, and societal influence,
but I have more money than I could spend no matter how long I live. So this
is how I use some of it."
He paused, took a sip of tea, and continued.
"I'm going to let Don take over, give you some idea of what we're about,
operationally. Before we adjourn for the evening you should have some idea if
you want to join us."