Author Steven Clark Bradley is a multifaceted professional published author. Because of Steven’s unique experience as a world-traveling author, he is able to very vividly and authentically write about place that many have only read about and few have actually seen.

Steven simply loves writing, and he has been blessed to travel extensively and loves to see the world. His travels around the world to 35 countries give him a really interesting amount and unique ways of explaining the characters in his stories. The driving force of his life is to tell the world around him what he has seen and how it impacts our lives today, how yesterday brought us to where we are now, and how it will certainly affect us all in the future.

Many of Steven’s fans have said that his books could make riveting and extremely powerful movies as well. Take a look at the novels that Author Steven Clark Bradley has authored and you we see the labor and excellent skill he has exhibited. I am sure you will agree that they are too close to reality for comfort. You will see immediately that they are as real as it gets.

Steven Clark Bradley Author Profile

I remember my dad often told me, when I was bad that "Son, two wrongs don't make a right." He was so right. It is important to make sure that when someone does something evil that we do all we can to bring them to justice. Yet, at times it hard to know if we are fighting for justice or for retribution. Attorney General Harold Bolder is on the run. He knows what the president has done and he wants justice, but on his own terms. read and watch a transformation of this good man into an evil force himself because he tries to use good to accomplish vengeance. This chapter from my novel in progress, Re-Constitution is profound and will speak to your insides and make you wonder you stand before the face of your maker. - Steven Clark Bradley

Dark Justice in the Cave of Treasures

Chapter 27

Washington D. C.

January 13, 2013, 11:02 p.m.

The racing cars and sights and sounds collided in the downtown area of the nation’s capital. The bright lights above on the buildings and the streets that illuminated the night were nothing like what lurked below ground. Down there, it was dark and wet and infested with vermin of every kind, with the most deadly killers of all being of the human persuasion.

Make shift living quarters were erected everywhere Down the narrow, long tunnels, lights strewn along the way lights were burning and small fires added a bit of extra light and heat to keep one’s blood circulating without freezing solid during the frigid cold night. Normally, the underground city crawled day and night beneath Washington D. C. It bustled with drug users and sellers and prostitutes who had finished their night’s duty or who were about to go do theirs. Tonight, though they had all been there, someone or something, human or otherwise had scared them all away. Tonight, for the first time in a hundred years, the main tunnel that ran right below the center of the US Capital was silent.

No one had even really even noticed it, earlier in the evening. Someone strange had descended into their frozen underground dwelling, and they had all been so busy shooting up, having sex or just trying to stay alive that no one even noticed until there he was. Some uninvited guest in a hoodie and a large coat just walked into their little community and no one knew who he was. His head and eyes were pointed downward looking right at the ground as he walked.

The man walked past several of the makeshift living areas before someone saw that he was there. He kept walking. He felt nauseous and somehow empty, like something inside him was dying. He felt like his insides were darkening, like a great curse had come upon him. He pulled the hood as far over his darkened head as he could. I just need a place to sit down a while. The man thought. He walked past two more dirty, stinky sleeping areas and five men walked out in front of him.

“Hello stranger.” One of them said to the man. Another man walked up behind him and hit him with a bat in the back of the man’s knees; they buckled under him and he tumbled to the ground. “Sorry, friend, but we don’t want to hurt you or nothing, but we just cannot be too careful, you know? Where you from?” The man said nothing and just stayed on his knees and looked downward. His mind was racing and he felt something coursing through his body and it made him want to stand up and tear them all limb from limb.

The homeless man looked down at the uninvited guest who was still on his knees. “Look, we asked you a question. Where ya from stranger?” The man grabbed the stranger by his hood and pulled his face up, and screamed. This stranger wanderer, who had invaded these homeless people’s only secure place to live, looked at the man and his eyes glowed bright red and his face looked repulsively dark around his eyes and mouth and he growled. The invader rose to his feet and grabbed the man by is coat and raised him a foot off the ground. The man’s friends pounded on the stranger’s body, but he just stood there and felt nothing.

The stranger looked at the homeless man he had in his hands and hoisted into the air and spoke to him. His voice was hoarse and snarly. The homeless man urinated in his pants and was terrified. The stranger looked into the man’s eyes with his own shining bright red ones. “Get your people out of here. I can’t…” The stranger doubled over in pain and the homeless man fell to the floor. “I can’t … I don’t want to hurt anyone, but can’t be sure … just go! All of you get out of here!” The other men in the homeless community ran over to kick the man to death, but the leader shouted at them. “Wait, he’s not trying to hurt us. He’s trying not to. He told us to get out, so let’s do what the man says.” The homeless man looked at Bolder’s changing face. “As ugly as you are, I know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Harold Bolder stood up straight and shouted. “Get out!” The tunnel shook and car sirens blared up above ground. Cement and bricks fell from the ceiling and a strong raging wind rose up out of nowhere and sent everything in the tunnel everywhere. Bolder took hold of the man in front of him and pulled him up to his face. “I told you to get out.” Bolder pulled his arm back to probably kill the homeless man with one blow. “Now, it’s time to die.” Bolder said with his raspy voice and red eyes. Just as Bolder brought his fist forward to hit the old homeless man with all his might, Anahel appeared and held Bolder’s arm back. Bolder looked at Anahel, dropped his cocked arm and tears ran down his cheeks. “What’s happening to me?” He dropped the homeless man to the ground and the man took off running.

“Harold, it is because you have used the Tree of life’s power to negative and evil intents. We have not known what would become of you. Everyone knows what Thomas Arthur is, and even the Master sees your reasoning and understands that you want to rid the world his godlessness. Yet, the Tree of Life is not for evil or settling a score, and you have incurred bad consequences for yourself. You should not use life to cause death.”

Bolder looked around the now totally destroyed underground tunnel. No one was there. “Anahel, I have these powerful urges to just kill someone and to tear them apart. Where do those evil ideas come from?”

Anahel looked at Bolder and felt gloomy. Bolder’s visage was now marred and dark. Around each of his eyes was a ring of darkness that looked like he had glued his shadow to his face. It gave of a look of death. Bolder had grown a beard over the past days and the way it formed around his now blackened lips gave him the appearance of a demon himself. Indeed, I fear he is halfway one already. Anahel thought and felt sad remorse. He loved this man like his brother; like I loved so many of my brethren who followed evil.

“Harold, these thoughts come from you. I cannot imagine having never been and one no longer being. So, my brother, I have been around for a very long time. I have seen the greats of your former race fall to four great pitfalls in general, with a few more, may I say more creative idiots, along the way.

The first great enticement in the heart of Adam’s seed is to envy and to let jealousy run rampant in one’s soul; I have never figured out what a soul is, but I know it is what makes you who you are. Jealousy, in its rightful place, is a sure sign of love. It is when it transforms into covetousness and envy that it becomes the greatest lure to evil that is the root of every crime amongst the race of humans.

The second great destroyer of the mighty who have fallen is greed; a force that consumes its host so gradually that the one being devoured by greed begins to enjoy being eaten alive by it. That’s how I see it, as an outsider from the travails of being human.” Anahel stopped speaking and looked gently into Bolder’s face. “It is worth noting, Harold, that once again, greed, along with covetousness and envy, is the offspring of jealousy and feeds right into the third great hazard that has slain the most potent, apathetic indifference.”

Anahel grabbed Bolder’s shoulder and smiled and had a twinkle of whit in his eyes. “You know like I have heard it asked, what do you think is the biggest problem in the world, apathy or ignorance?” Bolder slightly smiled and looked up at Anahel and said, “I don’t know and I don’t care?” Anahel looked excited. “Yes, yes, that’s right!” he shouted and laughed. The he looked at Bolder seriously, “You’ve heard it before?” Bolder thought for a few moments. “Oh, only a few times.” Anahel smiled and looked pleased. “A few hundred times? I stopped counting a while back.” Bolder’s face suddenly looked brighter and of fuller color as he and Anahel both looked seriously at each other and then burst out laughing.

The three great evils I have just described to you, though residing in the heart of every human, are not what drive you. You are not motivated by jealousy. You love to give power away. You are in no way influenced by money or things. I saw what you put in that envelope in the hidden pocket in the back of your coat. You probably don’t know the meaning of apathy and have never been so in your life. It is the last one of the great dangers to you that threatens to push you over the cliff; revenge. The Master has executed revenge from the day of the great war for Mount Elyon, where my Master cast down so many of my kind. Only my Master has the right to execute vengeance, and He wants to execute it for you and through you, but he is unable to, because your motivations are vexed.

Harold, you are no longer as limited as you were before you ate of the Tree of Life. You are shifting, and you have changed into this dark ominous thing because you are trying to use light to create darkness and life with the intent to kill. I want to help you Harold. I want to protect you, but you must face these things for yourself. You have only one choice and you will know what it is after you have faced your test here. I know your heart and God knows your motivations. He has a message for you; a lesson and you must either learn it or reject it. The choice is yours.”

Bolder looked downward. “I have to live this myself, don’t I?” Bolder asked Anahel. When he looked back up, Anahel was gone. “That was a yes, I take it.”

Washington D. C.

January 13, 2013, 11:14 p.m.

Bolder walked over to the tunnel wall directly in front of him. The dim light in the tunnel suddenly spiked and his eyes felt almost blinded. Bolder quickly covered his eyes and when he lowered his hand and opened his eyes, he suddenly found himself in a cave. He saw a series of primitive drawings scrawled on the wall. The drawings seem tell a story … like ancient hieroglyphics. Bolder carefully reached out and touched the drawings. Then, it occurred to him that the light inside the cave seemed to be coming from nowhere.

Harold Bolder reached out to touch the wall and then hesitated. His hand was shaking and he felt a certain force flow out of the rock and it produced a tingling sensation on his fingertips. He pulled his hand back and looked around the cave. Though he had not noticed before, probably out of shock, amazement or sheer exhaustion, he saw that the cave was massive. It seemed like it had been carved right out of the stone.

He turned and walked around the site. He could see the carved out stones that had been placed in an organized fashion, obviously ages ago. On the cave floor, next to a large flat stone that had clearly been used as a table, Bolder saw a hollowed out stone that resembled a cup and flat slate stone plates scattered around the area. One of the plates had a primitive drawing on it as well. It showed two boys, one slightly taller than the other. One was tending to a field of vegetables. The other boy was slaughtering a lamb and draining the blood into a vessel of some kind. Bolder placed the plate on the table.

He picked up another stone plate and it too had a drawing carved into it. This one showed both boys offering their sacrifice to God and holding their hands high into the air. The taller boy’s offering was his fruit from his field of labor. The smaller boy offered the body of a slaughtered lamb. He poured the blood over the body and into a primitive alter. Bolder picked up the plate with the image of the taller boy and held it close to his face. He saw something behind the boy. It was a bit obscured but he was sure he could make out the image of an angel. The wings were there, he was sure of it. Its face was grimacing and looked evil and cunning. Then a word filled Bolder’s mind. He spoke the word quietly to himself that he had heard in his brain. “Kassadya?”

When he had mumbled the word, the light in the cave flickered and the cave shook slightly and dust and small stones fell to the cave floor. Bolder bent down and picked up another one of the flat stone plates. It showed the images of the two boys again. The smaller boy was smiling and raising his hands into the air while the image of the taller one had his head drooped downward with a look of sadness and anger drawn across his face. Bolder took the next plate, and when his eyes met the drawing, he had a sharp pain fill his hand which crawled up his arm and into his head, forcing his head to snap backward. His eyes closed and saw it all happening before him.

General Bolder looked and saw two young boys. One of them was younger than the other and busy feeding his sheep and herding them out into a large field. The other one was tending his garden and hitting the ground with a sharp tool in hard, aggressive, angry strokes. He kept glancing up at the other boy and stared at him. Bolder’ eyes were fixed on the scene that appeared before his eyes.

His eyes widened when he saw an image appear behind the older boy. It was tall, massive, like the devilish figure he had seen on the plate. It was charred and black and had leathery wings with claw-like tips on its wings. Smoke rose up off its body and its eyes seemed to bleed hatred and death. It looked down at the older boy and watched him. The boy was oblivious to its presence. After a few moments it bent down and began whispering into the older boy’s ear as he dug in the earth.

“God hates you, boy!” The boy’s strokes at the ground increased with speed and aggression, and then he stopped and he looked up, as though he heard a voice, but saw nothing. He went back to his work, striking the ground hard in anger as the evil Watcher

“There is no satisfying such a hateful person as this one you call God.” Kassadya whispered in the boy’s ear. “Your brother seems to please God so much though. Look at him over there. He is happy…smiling…peaceful. Did God not accept his offering? Did He not reject yours?” The boy looked up and over at his younger brother. His face grew angrier, to the point of rage.

“What are you waiting for?” Kassadya screamed out with the evil Watcher about an inch from the older boy’s face. Then he whispered in the boy’s ear. “Are you going to let your little brother rob you, boy? Did he work harder than you? Did he toil as you have or did you not put much more effort into your offering to this ungrateful creator?” The boy had not even flinched when Kassadya screamed in his face, but the quiet whisper got his attention instantly. The boy looked straight up into the sky and raised his fist into the air. The beast behind him grinned and began to laugh.

“How easy they are! With no effort at all.” the Watcher thought.

“Look at your hand.” The watcher told the boy. “You need to take that thing in your hand and show your brother that you won’t tolerate such disrespect! Are you not the eldest? Should he not bow down to you?” The boy looked at the sharp tool he had been using to break open the ground. “Take that thing and strike him down!” The Watcher enticed the boy. “Show him you are the leader of the clan! Show this God that you demand your rights!”

Suddenly, Bolder saw the taller boy turn, with the tool in hand, and walk slowly toward his younger brother. The older brother’s murderous thoughts were interrupted with memories of their childhood. “But, I love my brother!” he told himself rather unconvincingly and remembering playing outside the cave of learning the life that their father had been given since the Great Fall. He stopped walking and lowered the tool in his hand to his side. Then the beast appeared again and whispered in the older boy’s ear. “He’ll grow up and take it all away from you! He’s not your brother! He’s your enemy! Your mother loves him far more than she does you. He’s smarter! God loves him more than he loves you!” Kassadya loudly declared. The boy raised his head and stared at his brother. His softened expression stiffened again and anger crossed his face.

“He’s blessed and you’re cursed!” the beast whispered to him again. The boy raised the tool again up to his eyes. “He has to die or you’ll have no future!” Kassadya taunted him. The boy started walking again towards his brother. He hid the tool behind his back. “You have a right to defend yourself!” the Watcher challenged jealous heart of this child who had never tried to question himself. “He reminds me of the Master.” Kassadya reflected. The boy walked faster.

“He’s plotting against you! He’s a thief, a liar, a…” The boy took off running towards his younger brother. The younger brother looked at his older one and smiled at first and then saw his brother’s face with an expression he had never seen before.

Confused by the rage he felt, the older boy couldn’t quite figure out why he was so angry at his little brother. The aggressive child was now poised to do something he had never contemplated before. It was true that God had rejected his presentation, but the child knew the way to correct his wrong. God had Himself told the boy what was required to make his way clear. He simply felt cheated, abandoned.

Suddenly, General Bolder saw Kassadya appear and Bolder saw the Watcher’s clawed left hand thrust into the child’s head, rearranging the young brain inside. When the angry child got to where his younger brother was standing, he stopped and stared at the boy he had grown up with, the one he had lived with his whole life until that very moment. “Why have you lied to me?” he asked his younger brother.

“Lie, what does that mean? I have always been with you. What is mine is yours as well! Come, let’s sit and eat of the lamb I offered to God today.” The words enraged his older brother. “See, he’s mocking you!” the evil Watcher, Kassadya taunted the older boy with the demon’s hand shoved right into the older boy’s head and manipulating his reactions and changing them from love to jealousy, to debate over rather he should kill his brother or repent before God. “He is belittling you! Have some pride, boy! Take that tool from behind your back and slay the little bastard!”

“I don’t want your filthy meat!” the older boy told his little brother. You are mocking me!” the older brother declared. “I don’t want anything from you!” He gripped the tool and his little brother looked very perplexed and did not understand why his older brother seemed so vexed at him. “My brother, I love you. I would never mock you!”

“He’s a liar!” the Watcher insisted. “He’s going to destroy you! Take that tool and strike him down!” The boy hesitated. Crouching down behind the enraged boy, the Watcher from the depths of Hell rose up and Kassadya roared inside the older brother’s head, “Do It Now!”

As he screamed out in great sadness and fear, he took stones and brush and piled it all on top of his little brother’s dead body. Then, he heard it and fell deadly silent. It was that same voice that had rejected his offering earlier in the day. It’s sounded like a great monster ready to devour him, though every other time he heard it, in the past, had always made him happy. This time he heard a voice like bursting thunder as large as the sky call out his name.

“Cain, what have you done?”

Cain did not respond but continued hitting the sun-hardened earth with his shovel and wondered what was about to become of him.

“Cain, where is your brother Able?”

“Am I my brother’s keeper that I should know his in and outs, when he rises and when he sleeps?”

“Cain, your brother’s blood cries out constantly before my holy throne. Henceforth, you shall wear a mark, for you have let jealous and angry run amuck, but forgiveness is crouching at your door. All those who find you shall wish to kill you; yet, no one shall lay a hand on you to harm you. ”

****

The image before General Bolder’s bewildered and enlightened eyes disappeared and he heard that word again that he had uttered earlier. “Kassadya!”

That voice again rang out from nowhere, and filled his ears. He then understood that the word ‘Kassadya’ was no common word. It was a name and it was something evil inhabited that name. He knew it was present somehow right there with him, waiting, plotting to be set free, unleashed upon the world. Bolder, felt befuddled and terrified. He knew that he had stumbled upon something malevolent, ready to open the pit of hell.

Bolder took the plate with Kassadya’s image on it. When Bolder’s flesh touched it, there was nothing. Perhaps he had imagined the sensation, but he knew he had not imagined the visions that had already materialized before his eyes, when he held the plates in his hand. Bolder recalled that same sensation that had radiated through his fingers, up through his arm and into his mind when he picked up the plates. All of a sudden, his head recoiled backward and his eyes closed rigidly shut and the images, unknown and known, flew past his closed eyes like a movie had stopped playing on the back of his closed eyelids. Bolder raised his head and he saw the same old underground tunnel that he had descended into, only now, completely ransacked and destroyed. Bolder remembered how the boys Master had patiently spoke with him. Henceforth, you shall wear a mark. Bolder took out his cell phone and clicked on the app that was a mirror. He looked at his face. It looked deathly dark and his eyes were bright orange and glowing. He knew he had cursed himself. Forgiveness is crouching at your door. Harold Bolder came face to face with utter ruin of his soul. He had used God’s glory to cause revenge. He knew what he had to do.

Bolder fell to the dirty floor of the tunnel and his darkened eyes filled with tears. “Oh God, use me for good. Take out the bitterness and the hatred and revenge and use me as your tool! Use me for justice and to right a great wrong. I give you my hatred, my anger my thoughts of murder. I will fight your fight and will seek your face.”

Bolder had changed. He had no fear; he felt strong and knew what he had to do and he had no guilt. Bolder wiped his eyes and peered through the dim light that still shown after he had made a mess of the slightly organized dump. He reached into a hidden pocket in the back of his coat and pulled out a large envelop. He opened it and took out one hundred thousand dollars. He wrote a note that asked them all to forgive him for destroying their home and hoped the money would help them live better and warmer; he signed it, Dark Justice.

Bolder put the money in the middle of the tunnel, on top of his note. He walked up the metal stairs and passed the man he had lifted off the ground. He walked up to him quickly and the man turned to run. Bolder grabbed him and turned him around. He brushed some dirt off the man’s back. “I’m very sorry for disturbing you all tonight.”

“Yeah, right; you think you only a disturbance? You scared us all to death. Hell, we almost called the cops and we hate the cops. What’s wrong with you, anyway? What happened to your face? Is it contagious?”

Bolder smiled and reached into his pocket and took out a wad of bills. “I think you’re the leader down there. When you go back, you’ll see something I left to make your lives better. Hope that makes us even.” Bolder took his hand and put ten one-hundred dollar bills in his palm. “Take care of yourself.”

“I know you; you’re … you’re …”

“I am Dark Justice.”

None of us are who we are by accident. In all of our lives there are those wonderful and dreadfully excruciating experiences that have defined us, made us who we are, for good or for ill. in my new novel, Re-Constitution, read this new excerpt about what has defined one woman and turned her against her own country and made her a rebel to fight for the freedom of her people.

When we are cast down, knocked down, abused and seemingly beyond repair, how do you react? Do you throw in the towel for lack of a plan or a visible manner to fix what is hurting you or may be killing you? Read how one woman replied to the most evil actions against her and her family and became a warrior for freedom. You never know, it could be you next!

Re-Constitution - Defining Moments by Steven Clark Bradley

Chapter 5

January 6, 2012, 8:51 p.m.

Rowland Heights, California

Ruby Zhang sat and stared inanely at her. Her fingers were trembling on the inside, almost like an itch she couldn’t scratch and her mind just would not cooperate. It was time for one of her episodes. She knew all the warning signs, the distraction, the inability to focus or to shake it off meant it was coming over her again, just as it had so many times over so many years. It was all more the result of her job history than her job description. She got up from her seat, dimmed the lights and lit a cigarette to take in one of her moments of reflection that both made her wish she were dead and helped her remember why she was living such a renegade life in hiding and constantly ready to run.

Ruby knew when her mind was about to be squeezed again in the vice of the appalling experience that was her life. She’d feel the most horrible sense that something was wrong or about to go wrong, but she always felt so frozen in place, unable to talk, unable to cry. She knew it was illogical and there certainly was nothing around her putting her in danger at the moment, though she had lived enough of it to never really fear danger again. It was a deeper thing than fear. It was something real; something she had lived. “I was just a kid, damn it! Shouldn’t always plague me like this.”

At first, Ruby Zhang had fought it all tooth and nail and tried and tried again to overcome her moments of being reintroduced to terror, but trying to talk herself out of her mental tirades was of no avail. When the memories and the pain of it all inopportunely returned to her mind, she had learned to just ride it out, to let it take her back in time and to let it all play out as it had so many times since growing up in Dandong, China, just across the river from North Korea, when she was just a little girl of nine, when it had all started, when she had learned so prematurely that she wasn’t a child anymore.

Dandong, China 1970

Life had seemed so good to a nine year old little girl. Li Hii Zhang had lived her life well in the midst of extreme poverty up to that very day. She never realized that she had nothing. It seemed so normal since no one else around her had anything either. Little Li Hii just loved to go outside her home and play with her feather kick toy that she could keep in the air longer than all the kids around her block, kicking it into the air in front of her, at her side and back kicks. She could play it for hours and never weary of it. Li Hii and her friends had all formed their little heavenly parade of Chinese angels who spent their days running, laughing, fighting and playing until it got dark or they had to pee. Each of them ran. Laughed, played and was oblivious to the utter suffering going on all around them. They just improvised as only a child could, and their lack of toys and children things seemed utterly normal to them in Mao Tse Tung’s China.

Li Hii often had a hard time going to sleep at night because of the rumbling and aching of her less than half-full belly; yet, it seemed normal.

The only time she could ever remember her mother and father yelling at her was once when she had taken a drink of some tofu water and had spit it out because it had had a bug inside it. She had been sure that was the right thing to do, but when her mom and dad told her to never waste their food again, Li Hii got her first inkling that everything was not as harmonious and happy around her as her young mind had always told her it was. She’d soon know the whole evil truth of the hell that Chairman Mao and his Chinese Communist Party had created in her country.

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport

Taipei, Taiwan

January 7, 2012, 9:52 a.m.

Nikki Peng sat tensely at her gate waiting for the boarding call that would get her on a flight to Los Angeles. Her undone hair and the beads of sweat across her prow was not a normal look for the young twenty-four year old reporter for the China Times Newspaper in Taipei, Taiwan. In spite of her young age, Nikki had already earned a reputation as a hard-hitting, deep-digging reporter who had chosen many of the toughest subjects that presented great dangers to her tiny but strategic island nation of Taiwan. She was quite simply a natural at dredging issues that were buried and, which were intended to stay that way by the villains she had revealed to the world. She was certain that the information she had been given was about to make her the next best kept secret to be buried.

Nikki Peng was the lead reporter who had dug up the dirt on her country’s former president that had landed him in prison. She had risked her job and her life to prove how he had pocketed large sums of the Taiwanese people’s money for himself and his family. Nikki Peng did not only investigate and report; she lived and breathed her work and had actually dreamed solutions in her sleep to investigative roadblocks several times and awoke in the morning and found what she needed. This time, Nikki had dug a little too deeply and she was in fear of her life. Her skill at her trade and her success at it had made a name for her that was now about to kill her.

January 6, 2012, 8:52 p.m.

Rowland Heights, California

Ruby took another drag off of her cigarette and she saw it all continue to troll through her mind so vividly. She recalled, as a much younger Li Hii Zhang, seeing her mother always wiping her eyes when she returned every morning from shopping with almost nothing in her bag. As a young child of nine, it did not mean too much to her. Today, as Ruby Zhang was staring out into the night sky from her window and pushing smoke out of her lungs, it meant everything and defined her uncompromising life, and she understood it completely.

Back in 1970, it didn’t matter that Li Hii’s parents had so little money. Even the rich could buy next to nothing. Mao’s Cultural Revolution had so devastated the nation that money was not the problem. There was simply nothing to buy and money would not have helped. Yet, today in Ruby Zhang’s excruciating mental vision of the past, Li Hii was happy. She had passed the whole morning away with her girlfriends, and she had managed not to think about hearing her mother crying the night before. The little girl had overheard them planning to leave, to pack up everything they’d need and leave Dandong as soon as possible. Li Hii snuck over to her parents’ bedroom door and saw the open suitcases on their bed and heard her mother’s grief-stricken words to Li Hii’s weeping father.

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport

Taipei, Taiwan

January 7, 2012, 9:53 a.m.

Nikki opened up her attaché and started pulling everything out of it. She had the strangest feeling she was being watched and it made her beautiful skin crawl. She was not accustomed to paranoia, but running for her life was not something she was used to doing either. She knew she had been followed from her newspaper office to her apartment where she had only been long enough to take a few things she needed, which wasn’t much, since she knew she was probably going to die.

She had actually driven her car toward the airport and after noticing out her rearview mirror that three cars had changed lanes every time she did for about three miles, she abruptly veered off on one of the exit ramps and into an alleyway. She had seen three cars follow her right off the freeway and one of them lost control and flipped over after hitting the guardrail and tumbled to the ground twenty feet below the freeway. She knew she had explosive information. She got out of her car and hailed a taxi the rest of the way to the airport with her computer, one carryon case and her attaché, from which she was grabbing hold of the books and files and looking up to see who was around her.

The gate was packed, but the only ones who were close enough to her to see what she was doing were a few women, two couples with children, a couple young guys playing computer games on their smart phones and one solidly built American or Canadian man who was fast asleep. She thought he was handsome, but had no time nor desire for romantic thoughts at the moment and probably never would again.

Nikki continued emptying out her attaché and pried the lining that covered the bottom of it lose. She pulled the corner up and saw the piece of paper she had hidden there earlier in the morning. Nikki Peng pulled it out and unfolded it. She read the email address that a contact had given her back in 2009 when she had managed to line up an interview with one Ruby Li Hii Zhang, the Executive Director for The International Coalition for a Free Asia or ICAF for short. “I knew I’d need this again one day.” She whispered to herself.

January 6, 2012, 8:53 p.m.

Rowland Heights, California

Ruby inhaled another deep puff of nicotine-laced smoke and could hear her mother’s words from so long ago.

“But, where will we go?”

“We can head south to Hong Kong. There we can be safe.” Li Hii’s father suggested with a fake smile laced with quivering lips.

Li Hii’s mother looked at the man she loved and admired. “Hong Kong?” she said with a hint of giving up in her voice. “We can’t even get out of Dandong. The only place we could go to is across the river into North Korea, the only place in the world worst than here.” She turned around and closed the suitcases and hid her mouth in her hands to stifle her compelling urge to scream in the middle of the night. “Oh, my God, there is nowhere to go!” she cried and tears rolled down her face. Li Hii’s father walked over to his wife and hugged her and she buried her face in her husband’s chest and let their tears silently fall together.

Li Hii did not weep until her father did. She saw her father, the closest thing to God in her life. His hands held his wife’s head and caressed her and sought to sooth her great fears as his eyes looked straight upward at the ceiling. Li Hii felt her own tears streaming down her face and she wiped them with the sleeves of her night gown.

“I can’t understand it.” Her daddy said quietly. “When the Japanese came here and the government seemed to welcome them right into the country, I with so many comrades stood up and fought back. I killed them; I took my beatings, and fought them in mountains with my comrades. Now, the beast we supported is killing us!

I stood with Chairman Mao, and I got nothing; no reward, not even a thank you, and I never even expected one. We gave him the country and he’s created something worse than what we fought against. How has he repaid us, with just a handful of meat for a month and half a kilo of rice to feed the three of us? They forced us all to turn against them. Anyway, what does it matter? They want to destroy us and butcher us now or later with no food no hope no life worth living anyway?”

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport

Taipei, Taiwan

January 7, 2012, 9:54 a.m.

Nikki Peng opened her laptop and started the same encryption program she had used when she was lining up her powerful interview with Ruby Zhang back in 2009. It cycled through and then her email popped up on her screen. Nikki looked passively around her and no one was watching her that she could see. She typed in the secret email address and the encryption program recognized it and immediate security was wrapped around the address and every word she was about to type.

Dear Ms. Zhang, my name is Szu Chieh, Peng. You can call me Nikki. I am not sure if you remember me, but I interviewed you secretly back in 2009 about your organization. I am so sorry to bother you, but I have some extremely urgent and dangerous information I need you to help me with or I’ll be dead before I get off of the plane I am about to board and you will be too not long after me.

January 6, 2012, 8:54 p.m.

Rowland Heights, California

Ruby Zhang felt the utter fear and sorrow as vividly as she had back in 1970 when she first heard her mother speak them. She could almost hear her mother’s voice audibly in her mind. “What about Li Hii? We have to get her to somewhere safe.” Li Hii’s mother said with great alarm in her quivering voice. The little girl’s father rushed over to the window and slowly pulled back the curtain. They were out there in their big black cars, just waiting for him to try to escape or to leave his home. Mao’s secret police preferred to take their victims in the daytime when everyone could see what defiance could cost if any of the people around the area had disobedience in mind. They insisted that the whole massive population of China understand and know that none of them should try to defy the word of the Chairman lest they face the same treatment.

Li Hii’s father lowered the curtain and looked at his wife. “I want to check on her.” He said and turned to go to Li Hii’s bedroom. Li Hii scurried away and jumped into her bed and pulled the covers over her and pretended to be asleep.

Li Hii’s father quietly opened the door and walked into her room. He touched her head with the palm of his hand and softly caressed his daughter and wept over her. “I am so sorry.” She felt his tears fall to her hair. He whispered and knew he had supported the devil and was getting his just recompense. He stood up and looked down at his beautiful little nine year old daughter. “I love you so much.” He said softly and turned and walked out of her room and closed her door. Li Hii watched the door close and closed her eyes and made herself think only about playing with her friends tomorrow when she woke up. It was the same thing she did every night and the only way, that she could fall asleep.

That was last night, but today; this vibrant resilient little girl was having as much fun as she could. She had received her name, Li Hii, which meant ‘tough,’ because of her great wailing at her birth that had the doctors and her parents laughing out loud. She had not laughed so much for a long time. She had spent the whole morning jumping rope, playing bad mitten and her face actually hurt from laughing so hard; her smile was about to change though to an expression of extreme horror.

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport

Taipei, Taiwan

January 7, 2012, 9:56 a.m.

Nikki Peng sat and stared at her computer screen for a moment and wondered how much she should say to Ruby Zhang. She decided that she needed to explain it all and hope Ruby would take the time to read it. “I have been investigating and following a UN designed environmental program that America has already signed onto. It is called Agenda 21, and when its final implementation takes place, it may mean the end of liberty and what may well be established is a world-wide totalitarian society.

“In 1992, the United Nations successfully passed the environmental action plan called Agenda 21 for sustainable development in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Agenda 21 is the global-transformational result of the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED) held in the Brazilian city. Agenda 21 is an all-inclusive action plans that, when fully implemented, will absorb every living person globally, nationally and locally by organizations of the UN, governments, and major groups in every area where humans directly affect the environment.

Most people don’t even know about it or have only heard of it as a conspiracy theory, but it is quietly slinking into everything we do, what we buy and what we sell, where we live and what we eat and how we prepare it. It will eventually affect what you drive, where you work and how you heat and cool your home and work place, and it may well be irreversible.

“Agenda 21 is a totalitarian comprehensive environmental program that, when fully implemented, will direct where you live, how much water you can use, and how and where you can travel. Officially, Agenda 21 is being marketed as a worldwide effort to ensure that all human beings will have access to adequate housing, health care, water and food. The means by which this accord will achieve its sinister aims will require a massive redistribution of wealth from prosperous countries to poorer countries. Predictably, capitalistic countries, like the United States, will suffer lower standards of living, while poor nation’s standards will rise. It is clear that the one nation that will suffer the greatest setbacks in the world is China. The People’s Republic of China has refused to sign onto the accords, and, while the United States is calling Agenda 21 progress; China, quite correctly in actual fact, is calling it international political suicide.

“It is important to note that Presidents George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and current US President Thomas Arthur have all have signed onto Agenda 21, through Executive Orders. Hundreds of governors, mayors, and county commissioners have also signed onto this agreement that will, in effect, end the super-power status of the United States, which has already happened, as a matter of fact. Under the controls and subjugation of Agenda 21, the future, your future, America’s future is even now being relegated to mediocrity, an idea of the past, a nation that squandered its standard of living; a nation controlled and being dismantled by President Thomas Arthur.

“Arthur has made sure that our standard of living shall be lowered into a new dark age, without the current power base of a healthy, gun-laden and faithful American citizenry. America’s slightest gesture of pulling out of the accord and this totalitarian regime of Thomas Arthur will take you down. What Agenda 21’s tentacles are already latched onto is only now emerging, but it is evident and clear that President Arthur was put in office with the dismantling of the United States of America as his mandate. In that devilish effort, he has been masterful. Though I have great sadness about what this will mean for the United States, the real concern I have is how it is about to destroy my country, Taiwan.

January 6, 2012, 8:56 p.m.

Rowland Heights, California

Ruby could still hear the sounds from her little playground that was the street in front of her home. The smells of the broken down society of those days in China were still very fresh in her mind. Like every other time she had had an episode, Ruby saw little Li Hii running down the street in front of her home to fetch a ball some boy had kicked. When she picked it up and turned around to walk back to the front of her home, she saw three large black cars pull up in front of her small home. Moms and dads from the homes around Li Hii’s ran outside and gathered their children from the street they had been playing in and rushed them into their homes.

Instinctively, Li Hii backed up into the alleyway and watched as she began to pee her pants in profound fear and sadness. She knew she’d never see her mommy and daddy again. She took three huge steps forward to live up to her name and run over to the evil men and fight for her mom and dad’s lives, but her young mind told her it was impossible. So, she backed up again and just hid and watched.

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport

Taipei, Taiwan

January 7, 2012, 9:57 a.m.

“Once this accord is fully in place, all private property rights of ownership will be a thing of the past. All forms of irrigation, pesticides & commercial fertilizer will become illegal as well as livestock production and most eating of meat. Privately owned vehicles will no longer be allowed and personal travel will be severely regulated much like the Soviet Union regulated its citizens in its totalitarian communist regime. The use of fossil fuels for power generation or mechanized travel will no longer be permitted under Agenda 21, and single-family dwellings will be abolished.

“The economy will flounder as most forms of mineral extraction and timber harvesting will be unacceptable. Finally, the key to the implementation of all the terms found inside Agenda 21 is the UN’s mandate to reduce the human population to less than 1 billion people. We can already see that abortion, infanticide, rules against resuscitation of the elderly, the infirm and the willful negligence of providing the needed care for the mentally ill or mentally handicapped around us. Also, gay marriage will be legalized since no children can be produced. These are but a few of policies The Arthur regime will use to achieve this evil goal. This simply means that insurance will be no assurance at all, except for your funeral.

“The mechanisms for empowering and installing Agenda 21, for the most part, do not come from Washington D.C. or state legislatures. These new objectives are bleeding in through local city and county governments. Agenda 21 brings with it surreptitious code words, such as “smart growth,” “social justice,” “bio-diversity,” and “sustained development.” You can already hear them on a daily basis. Translated, these terms effectively mean total environmental dictatorship and the reestablishment of the pagan practice of the worship of Mother Earth. I am sorry to bore you with all this information, but you have to understand how important these actions will be to feel the great weight of what I have uncovered as a result of my investigation. What I want to tell you next will show you how my nation and your life and mine are now in grave peril.

January 6, 2012, 8:57 p.m.

Rowland Heights, California

Li Hii’s mother and father knew the cars were there when they heard the car doors shutting. “Li Hii, where is my baby?” Li Hii’s mother exclaimed. Li Hii’s father ran over and opened his back door window and through a stone through his neighbor’s window. The neighbor began cursing and screaming in Chinese and ran to the window and saw Li Hii’s father looking at him from his home with tears flowing from his eyes and shaking his head up and down. The neighbor knew what he had to do.

Li Hii’s father thought about using the gun he had kept after the great revolution. He cleaned it every month and kept is loaded since the day he had turned against Mao and joined the International Coalition for a Free Asia. He knew he’d need it one day for just such a situation as was before him right then. He started to open the cabinet drawer and take it out, but then he looked at his wife. If he tried it, surely he would die, and that was fine with him, but he knew his wife would be killed as well, so he left the gun there in the drawer.

Little Li Hii poked her head out from behind a garbage bin and saw five men walk up to her door and violently and aggressively pounded on it. She saw her door open and the men ran in took her father strongly by his throat and threw him out of the house and to the ground outside. Li Hii saw her mother run out of the house and started hitting the men and tried to make them lose her husband. One of the men hit her in the face with his fist and she collapsed to the ground.

Li Hii felt her feet instinctively start moving to run over to the only two people she knew she could die for. She started to scream for them to leave her mommy and daddy alone, but she suddenly felt a hand cover her mouth and an arm wrap around her waist and pull her into the air. Li Hii started kicking her legs into the air and wrestled her mouth free. Just before she screamed, she turned her head and saw it was her neighbor who had come to take her to a safe place. Tears exploded from her eyes and she pointed toward her parents who were now in separate cars that were just pulling away from Li Hii’s home. “My daddy! I want my mommy!”

The man hugged Li Hii tightly and let her scream and wail as she knew the two people she loved so much and who had loved her perfectly were surely about to die. He patted Li Hii and held her close. “I am your daddy now.”

“He was my father from that day on until he died.” Ruby told herself as she peered out into the night sky out her window and put out her cigarette, just as she did every time an episode came over her. In spite of herself, Ruby Zhang had somehow started to enjoy her massive swings into agonizing depression each time all the past of her childhood punched her solidly in her face and forced her to remember what the secret police did to her mother and father.

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport

Taipei, Taiwan

January 7, 2012, 9:59 a.m.

Nikki Peng paused for a second and thought about how best to describe the reason she was fleeing for her life. “Ms. Zhang, it is a fact that no nation on the face of the earth has protected the rights of the oppressed more than the United States of America. Until the election of President Thomas Arthur, the United States was the greatest friend of all people whose human rights were abused, oppressed or nonexistent and the greatest friend to Taiwan. That has all now changed.

“Three days ago, I received a high priority message in my email from a colleague who has since been murdered. He instructed me to keep this information until I could reveal it to the public in Taiwan. My coworker was so terrified that he did not even conclude the email, but only ended the message with the words, “Oh my god, they’re here”, and sent it to me immediately. That was the last communication I had with him.

I opened the message and read that since 1992, every major nation had signed onto Agenda 21 except the People’s Republic of China. Beijing knows that the implementation of the new rules will be a massive drain on China and that with the massive population, it is virtually impossible to follow Agenda 21 and continue China’s modernization program. China is one of the most important parties needed to sign the accord, but the rules in Agenda 21 will affect China the hardest and virtually bankrupt the huge country.

“The people of Taiwan are very aware that we have not been able to develop a modern nation peacefully of our own might and ability. We know that China could easily surround our tiny country with their navy and put an armada of planes over our airspace and takes us over in minutes without America’s constant protection. Yet, according to satellite photos my colleague sent me, China is getting a massive number of ships ready to do just that. Here’s is why.

“I have conclusive proof that in an effort to get Beijing’s signature on the Agenda 21 accord, the Arthur Administration has told China that if they agree to sign onto the accord, China will be given an extra twenty years to implement the agreement and that, as a carrot to attract and secure their approval, America would cease its protection of Taiwan and would cast a blind eye to Chinese aggression against my country. Arthur has also said that he will give up organizations such as yours, which are fighting for freedom in China and will arrest their leaders and return them to China.

“I was called into my manager’s office immediately after I received the email. I don’t know how, but he knew that the email had arrived on my system. I was ordered to hand over the information that he called subversive. When I refused, I was fired. I stood up and ran to my desk and grabbed my computer and ran out the door. The State Police were already on their way and I saw them run into the building as my elevator door closed.”

Nikki Peng stopped typing and looked at her hands. They were shaking so badly, as she recounted her story to Ruby Zhang. Nikki took a deep breath and looked around her again and continued. “Right now, I am at Taoyuan International Airport waiting for a flight to Los Angeles, and I need your people to meet me when I arrive. I hope you receive this and can see the deep danger that awaits us both. You are my only hope.

Please let me know you received this by dialing the number below on my secure line. Let it ring two times and hang up. Then, I’ll know you agree to help me. If you do not, at least I won’t have to watch Communist China destroy what my people have built since 1949, because, I’ll be dead.” Nikki Peng hit the send button and the message was encrypted and her computer told her that it was sent...

___________________________

From the Author: Agenda 21 is a actual program to which the United States has already signed and dedicated its resources to implementing. This story, though fiction, is currently taking place and will affect us all and already is. Do not take all the words, deeds and actions of the men and women who run our nation at face value. There are things happening under our noses that the government knows we will simply follow all the way to the butcher block. Stand up for your country; be engaged and insist that you be told the truthm whatever the cost or you might find yourself staring out a window wondering how you got to the sinister, dangerous place you may well find yourself in the not too distant future. - Steven Clark Bradley

I am a lover of history and spend a lot of my time studying history from many different times and places. One of the areas of History I have always wanted to study and learn more about has been the time of the Korean war. Sadly, this war, in which more than 50,000 American servicemen lost their lives and more than two million were maimed in one way or another, has been called the forgotten war. For those who fought it, many of them our fathers and grandfathers, it is still as real as they day they landed, fought and saw their comrades die in battle.

I had the awesome opportunity to visit one historic place from the Korean war where America destroyed a massive bridge that was used to funnel Chinese military personnel into North Korea to fight Americans who had gone the the Far east to protect and preserve Freedom for south Korea.

Today, thanks to the United States of America and our brave fighting men and the women who served there in our M.A.S.H. units, South Korea remains free and very prosperous today. I hope the people of South Korea appreciate all that was done for them in this war by the shedding of American blood. I am sure they do.

Take a look at this video, Halfway Across the Bridge To Hell - At the Broken Bridge Between Dandong, China & North Korea and a taste of what i felt while is was there. It will move you greatly.
- Author Steven Clark Bradley


Part One:

I had the opportunity to visit the city of Dandong in China, which borders the imprisoned nation of North Korea. At this site, you can see the bridge that was blown up very effectively by American forces to slow down China's influx of hundreds of thousands of their Communist forces into North Korea during the Korean War. (Great job America!!!) This video will give you a lot of information and detail of that bombing and will also so you the stark difference between what China has become compared to what Korea has remained to be. I know that you'll find this video powerful and will help live what I lived by stepping into history that has rarely been seen by American eyes.



Part Two:

In Part One of my video, Halfway Across the Bridge to Hell you saw the bridge that was blown up by American Forces to prevent China from sending in their troops to help the North Korean Military during the Korean War. In Part Two, you will get a first hand view of the museum built to commemorate that war. There is a lot of anti-American propaganda in the museum, but is it a first-rate record of history with excellent material from the war and wonderful points of history that capture the imagine. I know you'll find it very moving and powerful!

Martial Law has been declared, American Troops have been deployed on the streets of all the major cities of America. Americans have been ordered off the streets and into their homes. Patriotic Americans take to the streets to fight for their freedom, and are shot on sight. Does this sound impossible? Does it seem like that could never happen in the home of the free and the land of the brave?

Yet, when a free people no longer cherishes their freedom, when the previous generation no longer passes on the heritage that shed its blood to gain their liberty the only result can be the loss of appreciation and undervaluing of the truths that forged our nation. Such behavior, such lack of resolve to pass on the truths of the American experiment will not make the fall of the republic possible. In truth it will make the loss of liberty, self governance and self determination inevitable.
Steven Clark Bradley
Author of Patriot Acts Nimrod Rising StillBorn! Probable Cause

The Consortium

Chapter Eighteen

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:47 p.m.

At his home, frightened, angry and ready to run, Richard Leitner, the newest former Secretary of the Treasury by virtue of his firing by President Fisher Harrison earlier in the day, stood at his study in Georgetown, truly one of the classiest famous neighborhoods located in all of the Washington D.C. metropolitan area. He was shamed and out of a job. He looked out the large bay windows of his nine million dollar overlook of the Potomac River front. He had given his life for the Consortium, now; he faced certain ruin and shame all because of a president of less than two weeks who thought he could just throw his career and reputation in the garbage.

“I’ll be damn if he’ll take it all away from me.” He yelled out to no one in particular, with the sincerity of the traitor he was.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:49 p.m.

The trucks that had now encircled the US Capitol were not silent about it. Shots could be heard in the distance, and every person in the Chamber, political, journalistic, civilian or military knew that something was getting ready to explode. Fisher wondered if the pressure was to induce capitulation, or if or if more radical measures were planned to bring about the fall of the government of the United States.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the sound you hear outside these cherished walls, is the sound of threat and the total loss of liberty, the hands totalitarian rulers that will replace one of freedom and thought, which ultimately took it all for granted. Those sounds can never lead to peace, but should provoke a response. Tonight I give you my reply to the Consortium.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:49 p.m.

After Leitner left the Oval office, earlier in the day, he felt ill, nauseous and absolutely terrified. He had traced his steps back and realized that Morgenthau had given him a drink in the limousine to calm his nerves and to persuade Leitener that the Consortium had another job for the now unemployed former Secretary of the soon to be debunked Treasury.

“I just wasn’t cut from the same bitter cloth that Morgenthau and Berkowitz were.” Leitner told himself and rubbing the back of his head. “They know it too.” Leitner’s heart seemed to skip a beat when he thought about what they would do to him. “I’ve been such a coward, only good for final options.” Leitner told the afternoon air.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:51 p.m.

“Earlier today, I asked for a meeting with the Federal Reserve Chairman Mr. Timothy Morgenthau and the Secretary of the Treasury Mr. Richard Leitner. As all of us realized very quickly, when we rose this morning that all of our lives had changed forever, during the night. Our money was gone, our economy was collapsing and tens of thousands of troops have been dispersed throughout the country with the authorization of no one inside the United States government.

“I welcomed these two men into the Oval Office with the hope of being informed as to the nation’s security and financial survival. Keep in mind, these are the men and women who fed the SPU, which we had only recently taken down by force.

“It has been estimated that these men and women of money-lust lost over eight hundred billion dollars when the SPU fell. Now, these hidden-away forces, the same powers who were directly responsible in the deaths by assassination of two great Presidents, Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy who had both spoken out against the Consortium.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:52 p.m.

Richard Leitner continued peering out his bay windows, beyond the Potomac. He could see the great majestic dome out in the distance. The Capitol’s lights that covered the circumference of the dome along with the White House seemed like the coliseum without gladiators. The lights illuminating the darkening sky gave off a false sense of power and filled the almost night sky with thoughts of a once greater day of the power of the American Republic.

“It’s only an image, now; more like a fable.” Leitner said aloud while never taking his eyes off of the capitol building. Somehow, Leitner was surprised that it hurt him to see it all tottering so. He had been sure that the end of the government would somehow be a great thing. Then he felt the claws of the Consortium extend their reach when they were forced to recoup their money. Yet, against his will, he wished it could be as it had always been, but he knew it would never be again. That image, the great country, which had helped defeated nations rather than crushing them would soon become members of the ‘Used to be powerful’ club.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:54 p.m.

“This afternoon, in the Oval Office, two extortionists, men in whom the country had placed its trust, sought to force my government’s hand to give them eight hundred billion dollars today or in two hours face the complete and utter collapse the economy of the United States.

“Since 4:00 a.m. this morning, these evil hoarders of wealth have siphoned off five trillion dollars and distributed it to other countries as seen fit by the Consortium. It is their intension that America never be free again.”

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:55 p.m.

America was only minutes from a fundamental transformation, and Leitner knew it. In fact, he knew everything that the Consortium had planned, which he also knew made him a very great threat to the cabal. The former Secretary of the Treasury realized that he had become a liability, a danger, a useless mind full of all the tactics, mechanisms and plans of an international club of cutthroat financial terrorists who would stop at nothing now to get all the power they craved. Leitner knew he had failed them.

He remembered going to the Doctor to get rid of the massive headache he had endured since Morgenthau gave him the drink. All he could recall afterwards was waking up in his bed. He still wasn’t sure that the Doctor and the headache had been real or a dream. The pain in the back of his head was no dream, though.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:57 p.m.

Fisher picked up a copy of Kennedy’s 1963 Executive Order for the printing and the circulation of silver backed dollars. “Here is a piece of history that is now serving as a true sign of God’s hand to protect us.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 4:57 p.m.

Peter Barlow and Warren Berkowitz knew exactly where Richard Leitner was at the moment. They could see his every movement.

“Warren, he’s going to be on the move. Should we activate him?”

“Well, I’d rather just terminate him, ha-ha, for the second time today, just in a more permanent manner, if you know what I mean, but that would take all the Irony out of the plan.” Berkowitz said.
“You are a witty one, Berkowitz, but right now, I need an answer.”

“Considering that this is the only remaining use for the wimp, so, let’s squeeze his last drop if utility right out of him, Peter, my man. Activate now.”

Both Peter Barlow and Warren Berkowitz saw Leitner’s front door open slowly. Peter placed Leitner’s new ID into the computer and the link to the chip that had been planted in the back of his head only hours earlier, at the doctor’s office, came to life.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:59 p.m.

“Firstly, before riding over to the Capitol today, I signed an Executive Order instructing the US Treasury to print gold and silver backed currency. This process is already underway. In addition, I have issued an order that Federal Reserve notes shall no long be accepted as legal tender for the payment of debts or for issuing credit at midnight, March 25, 2010. All Federal Reserve notes will be turned in and an equal amount of Silver Backs will be returned to you.

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
March 11, 2011 4:59 p.m.

Richard Leitner decided to get out while he still could. He had frantically run around his house gathering the things a single bachelor would need or want. He had closed all the blinds, locked every window and door and set the surveillance system then picked up the two suitcases he had had just enough time to prepare. He planned to drive over to the Treasury to confiscate some personal files and things. Then, his whole body felt like it had been hit by a massive bold of lightning and made him drop the suitcases and the front door key to the ground. His head again began to pound and he threw up all over his front porch and his hand searched on the ground for the key.

“Richard … Richard Leitner, forget the key, forget the door; forget the suitcases.”

Leitner raised his head. Puke had splattered, all over his face. He heard the voice, and it sounded like someone right next to him. He rose off his knees and stood looking around in every direction.
“I know you’re confused. Who wouldn’t be? The sickness will go away soon.”

“Who are you … where are you?”

“That does not matter. We need your help, and then you can be free to live your life.”

Leitner laughed. “I know Berkowitz. Evidently, you do not. Perhaps Morgenthau would give me another chance. Not, Warren; if you asked him about me, he’d say he had already forgotten about me and to learn not to care.”

“Yes, in fact, that’s exactly what he said.”

“I don’t care either. So, get in your car and drive to the Capitol and walk up to the main entrance and show your pass. It’s still active, I checked. Someone will be there to give you something. Take it and wait for further instructions.” Peter ordered Leitner.

Leitner was still feeling sick and fought against the involuntary movements that the voice in his head seemed to be able to control. After a minute, the pain in his head was gone, the fear was nonexistent and he was under Peter Barlowe’s command.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:01 p.m.

“While speaking with Treasury Secretary Richard Leitner this afternoon, I informed him that he was being terminated from his job. The Assistant Secretary of the Treasury is the interim Chief Financial Officer of the United States. I have also issued a warrant for former Secretary of the Treasury Leitner for treason as traitor of the United States and an enemy combatant based on his profound cooperation with the Consortium.

22,000 Feet and descending over Belgium
March 11, 2011 1:01 a.m. G.M.T.

“Yes, yes, Peter, you have done well. But then, the guy’s so fearful that we probably didn’t need to spend the money to chip him. I really like that part about forgetting the key and the door; oh, and the suitcases. That was a hoot.” Berkowitz said and laughed. “I mean, he won’t be needing it anymore, anyway. Oh, the things we do for our country.”

“Leitner’s walking up to the main entrance of the capitol as we speak.” Both Barlowe and Berkowitz went silent and just watched Leitner carryout their orders.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:03 p.m.

“Finally, tonight is a night that history will record as the gravest danger that the United States has ever endured. Will it record that we capitulated or that we prevailed against a richer and more advanced enemy, because that’s how we won the first revolution, against incomparable odds, and that is how we shall win the second.”

Everyone in the chamber rose to their feet and applause rang out. Fisher let them express their hope and courage while American troops surrounded the Capitol with tanks pointing their turrets towards an army’s own government.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 5:03 p.m.

Peter heard what President Harrison had just said, and so had Berkowitz. He knew Berkowitz would order the attack, now that President Harrison proved himself to be all the Warren Berkowitz had said he was. Peter disconnected from Berkowitz for a moment and flipped a switch on a router at just the moment Berkowitz was cut out.

“What was that?” Peter asked Berkowitz. “I hope you have all this crap verified.”
“Trust me boy, have I betrayed you?”

Peter laughed and sneered as he spoke back to Berkowitz. “Of course not; you still need me.” Peter replied. “Trust you, not the best choice of words. Warren, earlier today, you brutally wiped out the one person you actually choose as a child to be with you. Yang didn’t have to die. I worked with him, and he was a great young man, full of reasons to have been kept alive. So, don’t ask me to trust you.”

“Is your mind still back at that courthouse? I had already forgotten him. Let me tell you, I think of people as opportunities. I refuse to be attached to any one of them. I have outlasted everyone of my generation, Peter, my boy, simply because I don’t care. Those three words make the world go round. We have caused uprisings and have squelched them when they had served us enough. We’ve fought wars and supported both sides, killed millions, saved as many and have forgotten so many, many more than we remember and we did it all with money. That’s paper, Peter my man. The only way to survive in the midst of that kind of experience is to let yourself be devoured by it; to let it overtake you until the pain and lack of mercy all around you no longer moves you, until you say with sincerity, I don’t care.”

“And that’s the world I am helping you create? Maybe I’m on the wrong side.” Peter taunted Berkowitz.

“It’s the only world I’ll let be and live. Let’s check out the equipment, what ya say? Are the links all set?”

Berkowitz pushed enter and a transfer of over five trillion dollars started from hundreds of thousands of banks across the nation to two hundred and fifty different banks in thirty-five different international banks. “It’s our money. It has our name on it and that big eye over the pyramid kept our investment secure. Now, the risks far outweigh the benefits.” Berkowitz told Peter.

Peter pressed enter and almost all of the one hundred forty-five thousand troops now distributed across the nation came under the Consortium’s control.

“There are a couple hundred links that are down, but they’ll be overrun. The board’s lit up and I’m activating the trucks.” Peter told Berkowitz.

Peter typed in the number of ten of the chips that had been embedded. The computer found them and sent out a super secure inscription to them. Peter typed the command.

“Encircle the US Capitol, activate the devices and wait for further orders.”

The infantrymen started their trucks and stationed themselves all around the capitol. They secured their locations and posted lookouts. They each turned around and cut a hole into to the back seat and all saw a series of rods, warm to the touch, was arrayed with wires and electronic switches. Each of them heard their orders repeated to engage the device. They all found the USB ports and connected them to a WIFI router relay that could receive and send signals to all simultaneously.

The ten chosen infantrymen were sent the connection request that was accepted and instantly, each of the ten electronic detonators’ signals was locked onto the router that made them all act as one against a common target, the United States of America, all with a single press of a button. The infantrymen covered the back seats and waited. One of them was given an extra task to complete. He headed for the main entrance.

Chapter Nineteen
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:04 p.m.

Richard Leitner walked at a normal pace up the powerful steps and right up to the front door of Capitol Hill. He had a normal look across his bearded face. Earlier in the day, President Fisher Harrison had shaken Leitner’s frame of mind, and now Peter Barlowe and Warren Berkowitz had reshaped it. Leitner was placid, stoic and without fear as he walked up the steps to the front entrance.

The soldier who had been assigned to wait for Leitner walked over to him.

“Sir, this is for you.”

He handed Leitner a small box and the soldier returned back to his truck. Peter told all ten of them to verify the devices planted in their backseats. They were all online.

Leitner heard Warren Berkowitz’s voice speaking to him in his head. “You know, I was pissed off with you, but I thought, I’ve got the perfect way to redeem yourself. Richard, you are doing a great service to the next great global power, the United National Consortium. It is you who will launch the newest shot to be heard around the world.”

“Warren, I know what you’ve done to me, it is obvious. Damn you, I would have given my life for you.”

“So, what’s the problem? You’re about to do just that. Now, here’s what I want you to say.”

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:08 p.m.

Fisher paused and looked all around the room and took in air before he announced his next decision. “This is an extraordinary moment, and unfortunately, I must take extraordinary measures to combat the evil that is about to be unleashed upon the American people. I ask you to bear with me and consider my reasoning, and to give me your trust. The American People know who I am and that I will keep faith with you.”

US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:08 p.m.

Richard Leitner walked up to the security desk and swiped his badge. The light turned green.

“I want to say good evening, Mr. Secretary, but it don’t feel much like one.”

“Believe me, I know what you mean. It’s been maybe the hardest day of my life. Hope I live through it.” Leitner replied with a smile and leaned over the counter and pulled the guard toward him and spoke softly into the man’s ear. “You need to get all these people out of here.” The words came from Leitner’s lips, but the thoughts were Peter Barlowe’s.

“This place is going boom, and you need to get as far away as possible.” Peter looked into the guard’s face. “Do it now, you have not time to waste.” Leitner walked on through security calmly and steadily up to the House Chamber door and waited there. He slowly opened the box the soldier had handed him at the entrance. It was a remote with just one button.

Ft. Myer Military Personnel Division
Joint Base Myer-Henderson
Ft. Myer, Virginia
March 11, 2011 5:10 p.m.

“Open the door and walk into the chamber.” Peter told Leitner. When he walked in and looked at the crowd there. He realized that everyone knew who he was, and many knew him well. They were not all great men and women, but they did love the country, and many of them loved him, but they wouldn’t after today.

Peter attached a separate cable to the router and sent signals to three different embedded chips. They already had their orders; and were already in place and awaiting instructions; orders that Warren Berkowitz knew nothing about. Peter activated the links and repeated his instructions.

“Come out of hiding and activate plan seventy-seven, on my signal.” Peter saw three lights flash on the screen. He isolated them on the grid and washed them through the system and rendered them invisible to everyone, except for Peter Barlowe. The three immediately did as they were instructed. Berkowitz could hear none of it, but he’d know soon enough from the TV.

Joint Session of Congress
US Capitol, Washington, D.C.
March 11, 2011 5:12 p.m.

“Let me say that I never sought this position, but it sought me. It has followed me everywhere I’ve gone, no matter how much I tried to run from it. So, it is apparent that I am in the will of a good and righteous God. No president would ever choose to be in such a dire position so early in his term, but this is the task before us, and we will shrink from doing our duty. For, we demand to be free.”

Leitner began walking forward past the members of the Senators and of the House, all of whom knew who he was. They smiled as he walked forward and closer to the President of the United States. It seemed somehow normal, since Leitner was not a stranger at all, and had been Secretary of the Treasury for over two years, one of the most high profile jobs in Washington D.C. Even so, it seemed odd to see this man walking up the center isle towards the President, in the middle of such a powerful and important speech.
“Effective, midnight tonight, I am declaring Martial Law in all fifty …”

“Mr. President!” Richard Leitner powerfully yelled out.

The mere sound of a high-pitched voice sent Senators and Representatives diving to the floor for fear of being shot. The press went wobbly and ran and hid behind anything they could find, but their cameras continued rolling and they filmed an embattled new President of the Republic standing alone, seemingly undaunted by the face of Richard Lietner staring back at him.

The former Secretary of the Treasury felt a twinge of fear looking at the madman behind the presidential podium. Fisher Harrison stood there and sized up this man and knew this was Leitner plus something else.

He’s chipped. Fisher knew that Berkowitz was squeezing the last ounce of usefulness out of Leitner.

“Richard, are you alright?” Fisher asked seeing the remote in his right hand.

“Mr. President, your fired!”

Peter held Leitner’s finger off the button, and Berkowitz and Morgenthau went crazy.

“Peter, what are you doing? You better have this right, or you die before I do.”

“Not to worry Satan, hell is on its way.” Peter replied.

To the utter shock of every member of congress and the media, whose cameras captured it all, three Special Ops wearing Chameleon suits seemed to slide out of the walls and ran up to the president and surrounded him. the Secret service fired shots, but there was such a high degree of confusion, they didn’t know who to shoot at. The Chameleon suits made it seem that Fisher had been fighting with the air. Slight traces of the three figure could be seen, but the Secret Service was for all practical purposes, blind.

Fisher had not forgotten how to ride a bike and he still knew how to kick someone’s ass. He began fighting and the three knew that he’d never be taken alive that way. One of the Special Ops pulled out a gun and shot a dart into Fisher’s neck. Fisher pulled it out, looked at it and fell to the floor. They picked him up and carried him out of the chamber and quickly outside. They cuffed the president and carefully placed his drug-induced sleeping body in the back of the SUV and raced away.

One of the Special Ops spotted Chief of Staff Michelle Oh. He ran over to her and shot her with a dart also as she was running away from him. She fell to the ground and he scooped her up and ran. She too was placed in the SUV.


On the Runway, Brussels, Belgium
March 11, 2011 5:13 p.m.

“What the hell was that? I didn’t authorize saving the bastard. You’re supposed to kill him. You’re pissing me off too, Barlowe.”

“Warren, go to hell.” Peter calmly replied to Berkowitz. Then he typed in an encrypted message to Leitner.

“All Fall Down.”

Richard Leitner, who had awakened in the morning highly respected as the Secretary of the Treasury and was about to die in the same evening of the very same day, as a an enemy of the State and a total disgrace. He held his hands straight up in the air, as Berkowitz ordered him to do. A terrified Congress began rising up off the floor and looked at Leitner. He had been their friend; he had kept up with the Washington party circuit and many of them only now realized it was him. Almost every one stood up now and looked at Richard Leitner. He was not an unpopular guy, until today. Then he screamed.

“Goodbye, America!”

Lietner pressed the button on the remote, and the earth beneath everyone in the US Capitol began to belch and the air was wiped clean from the building as the ten different dirty bombs planted in the trucks surrounding the US Capitol all detonated at the same time. Each one was filled with highly enriched uranium nuclear waste. All ten trucks took on a momentary, very quick red glow, as the devices activated, sizzled and then instantly incinerated everything in its path. The walls of the Capitol were blown inward and the entire structure came down with a sound that sounded like hundreds of voices crying out in sheer and utter pain, which was exactly what it was. The dome collapsed straight downward crushing anyone who was in the rotunda.

Nearly everyone in the House of Representatives Chamber was dead. In one attack, more than half of the government was gone. The explosion tore the building apart. The history of the nation and every living and dead body in the old, sacred, now destroyed monument of freedom and power would devastate the nation to the point of collapse. Suddenly, the whole building began to shake and a deafening rumbling sound of steel bending and walls falling flowed through air as the US Capitol tumbled to the ground in a massive heaping pile of rubble.

The Secret Service who had survived were frantically looking for the president. “Is there anyone there, is there anyone there? Where the hell’s Law and Order?” The large room had gone pitch dark with the lights all blown out and the smoke and something else left the taste of metal in the mouth and it burned the eyes. “We can’t find POTUS.”

The dead were the lucky ones. Instead of dying an instant, painless death, in about thirty minutes, survivors would experience severe nausea. Slowly, but progressively, disorientation would invade their minds. Vertigo and a rapidly world room would make walking impossible. The pain would be unbearable and their bodies would shut down all their organs as the radiation invaded their minds and bodies. In less than an hour, they’d all die.

Survivors, inside and outside the ruins of the US Capitol opened their eyes and felt their hearts beating quickly. Their blood pressure then dropped rapidly and their breathing became labored. Their faces were drenched with sweat as a high fever set in; the results of the overwhelming affects of the massive dose of radiation from the ten devices now clinging to the air took its toll. Over half of congress lay dead on the House Chamber floor and lying in their vomit, and many would soon pray for death.

Outside the capitol, several thousands of US troops lay dead and thousands were on the ground surrounding Capitol Center writhing in pain. None of them would survive.

World Bank, Brussels, Belgium
March 11, 2011 5:15 p.m.

“Good, now that’s more like it. Hollywood still can’t top the real deal.” Berkowitz laughed and clapped his hands. He was jubilant with the success of the mission and ready to open up Pandora’s box.

“Peter, Peter are you there?” The radio echoed in the lower part of the operation’s building at Ft. Myers. No one was there and no one was coming back.

“What the hell, I’m, I mean we’re in charge now. I’ll do it myself.”

Berkowitz sent out a link to all forces under his control. Immediately tanks and armored vehicles began rolling into the streets of every major city in the country. Emergency bulletins began constantly repeating on every TV and radio in the country.

“A state of emergency has been declared. We are now under Martial Law protocols. You are not to leave your dwellings. Anyone found outside will be shot on sight. You are ordered not to leave your dwellings. A state of emergency has been declared. We are now under Martial Law protocols . Anyone found outside will be …”

Thousands of Americans ran out of their homes and poured into the streets. These were their kids carrying those guns and in those tanks. Aircraft flew low over the cities and Black hawks hovered over hot spots where large groups of angry Americans had gathered with large, small, legal and illegal guns and firing them into the air at the jets that were circling. Several Black hawks engaged fire on those armed below. Americans were dying by the hands of Americans. Those who refused to listen to the troops that Berkowitz had sent out were shot on sight and chaos filled the streets of America’s greatest cities.

“We have no enemy to find us now.” Berkowitz said over the radio.

Raven Rock Mountain Defense Base
March 11, 2011, 5:22 p.m.

“Did you get that location?” Raven Rock Site R Commander Rush asked nervously.

“Yes sir, it originated in Brussels.”

Where is Patriot Acts available?

Today, I visited Mao Tse-tung huge monument where 1.4 billion people still hail him as the father of their country. They fail to see how he killed more than seventy-two million of his own people after great masses of his people fought and died to give him an ultimate totalitarian victory. At this very powerfully designed and sculpted monument, amazing lifelike figures encircle the place with images of men, women and children taking up arms and exerting their last drop of devotion for the man who, in the end, locked them into a social prison that told them to walk lockstep and to never deviate or face his evil hand of death. Here in China, I have seen how one great people took up arms to fight for Mao in the belief that he intended to bring them a better life only to see seventy-two million of their own people butchered for free speech.



In our day, and with our own American version of Mao, it is telling and obvious what Barack Hussein Obama believes and wants us to believe by taking a look at the devilish evil minions Obama has encircled himself with like Robert Reich, Kevin Jennings, Cass R. Sunstein, Ezekiel Emanuel, John Holdren, Van Jones, Valerie Bowman Jarrett and Anita Dunn, a senior adviser to President Barack Hussein Obama who publicly declared that two of her favorite philosophers are Mother Theresa and Mao Tse Tung. There are many more pro Marxist people in Barack Hussein Obama’s administration, and I predicted every single thing he has done in his first term before his election. He has not lied so much as he has told the truth to deaf ears and played it all out before blind eyes, many of which are still unseeing and hearing impaired. I and millions like me see clearly and hear very well indeed.

on April 8, 2012

As I am in China, I spent the day at the Qing Zhao Tomb in Shenyang, China. That place is full of history that dates back hundreds and hundreds of years. it is full of splendor, wealth, power and fame. Yet, for all they spent, and with the powerful men and their powerful families they protected, is it not telling that it is all for naught without God in our lives.

The Emperor Qing was so afraid to die that he spent a good deal of his wealth and time trying to find a way or a potion that would make him live forever. Guess what? He failed. He built the great wall to to protect himself and ruled over a great and very powerful and enduring empire, only to let it eventually come to ruin under those those who took his power because yes, he did die.

(See the Video Here:)





The great terrified emperor had terracotta soldiers carved to be buried with him and even servants were slain to be buried with him so they could fight and serve him in the afterlife. Alas for him, and for us all, death is the great equalizer, and we shall all physically return to the dirt from whence we came. He forgot about the true King whom he had never met him who never dies, whose 1000 days is like 1 day for Him.

All the riches and glory they each left behind did not stop the great march of time from dissolving his power, his riches, his glory and his bones. The terracotta soldiers remain, the structures and records of a great man and his dynasty are still with us, but he nor they are not.

Those great men of power and splendor are before the great judge and great Emperor who rules over the affairs of men and women of all levels equally, and He is a respecter of no one, king nor pauper. King for a day and lost for eternity, a servant of God for a short time on earth and an heir of the king of Kings for ever. Which one actually is more powerful for you? Author Steven Clark Bradley Steven C. Bradley

I made this video today while I was at the Army hospital to see a doctor for my wrist which I injured while exercising. I was told twice not to take pictures there, but I managed to take the video and photos you will see in this video anyway.

Though the physical structure of this hospital is nice, and not too dirty, really, and though I was generally impressed with the doctor I finally saw, after 3 hours, I was appalled with the lines of people who were forced to wait to get checked and how many of them were finally told, after having waited for so long, to go to another long line on another floor to pay for something they had not been told to do before. I only know that because it happened to me.

So, as you watch this, ask yourself if this is what you want for healthcare in America, because that is what will happen unless Obamacare in overthrown by the US Supreme Court. A vote Barack Obama in the November 2012 election is a vote for such socialist and even Marxist policies that will tear away your freedom and rip the heart out of freedom in America. Watch, consider, ask yourself, is this what I want for America's future. Then pray that God once again blesses America! - Author Steven Clark Bradley Novelist



A SUPREME JUDGEMENT IS AT HAND!

As many us very correctly go about our daily lives trying to provide for our families and hanging on for dear life to a nation that the current administration has taken to the precipice of disaster, right now, the United States Supreme Court is hearing three monumental days of arguments both for and again 'The Affordable care Acts or better known as OBAMACARE.

The se arguments and the final decision of the Supreme Court will decide whether your government, elected by the people, for the people and of the people can force you to buy something you do not want. Of course, any patriotic and knowledgeable American can readily take a look at the Us Constitution and see immediately see that the pillars of power set forth by the founding fathers strictly forbade the powers enshrined in the sacred document to possess no such right or authority to force you to do any thing of the sort.

It was over one hundred years before it was ultimately decided that the government could even impose a a national income tax, and it was with great destruction to the original intent of the constitution that the Federal Reserve act was passed setting up the Federal national banking system that eventually took us off of the gold standard and created a worthless currency based on thin air.

Therefore, please take heed of the fact that, even though the original nation is already a thing of the past, the entrails that remain in place will be also dissolved should the Supreme Court side with The Obama Administration and keep in place a heath care system that was never read before it was passed and which has neither created better more accessible health care nor has it made it more affordable.

This is your nation! This is the legacy and posterity that our children and grandchildren shall face if OBAMACARE is allowed to take toot and spread throughout the entire social fabric of American society and power. Is a nation that totally controls the lives of ts people what you wish to bequeath to your children and their children?

COME ON AMERICA! Your nation is being ripped to shreds right under your noses. Put the computer games down for a bit. Turn off the ball games and open your computers, take up your pens, raise your voices and say we will not live in a nation of happy slaves, as i see right now in the People's Republic of China.

Just remember in November, 2012, a vote for Obama or ANY DEMOCRAT equals death panels, controlled lives and THE TOTAL TRANSFORMATION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA as Obama himself declared. This is a SUPREME JUDGMENT and we had better exercise SUPREME CAUTION or you may not have a nation that represents your hopes and dreams ever again!

The President of the United States says that he's against an 'UNELECTED' court overturning an act of an 'ELECTED' congress. Mr. President, there is something that is larger and more powerful than an 'ELECTED CONGRESS.' It is the CONSTITUTION.

The CONSTITUTION grants any powers that the congress and you have as 'ELECTED' officials. Without the constitution, you have no power at all, and the CONSTITUTION was elected too, by THE PEOPLE in 1789 and is the SUPREME LAW OF THE LAND. It is the CONSTITUTION that sets up the government, not you. It is prescribed in the CONSTITUTION that the judicial branch should NOT BE ELECTED in order to stop what YOU are now trying to do, manipulate the rule of the nine justices to suit your views.

So, Mr. President, the supreme court shall rule in an unbiased way because they are NOT ELECTED and you have no choice, like all Americans but to accept its ruling whether we like it or not. I wonder how you feel about Roe v Wade. Was that not a socially changing manipulating ruling by an 'UNELECTED' judiciary? Yet, you accept that ruling and defend it forcefully. Do you really think we are all blind. Even many of the blind Americans who ELECTED you now see the error of their ways as they scan the net for jobs that are not there. Be sure, I was NOT one of them.

This is precisely a case for which the rules set forth in the CONSTITUTION are prescribed; to judge whether or not YOU and this ELECTED congress overstepped YOUR and THEIR power in trying to force us to buy something WE do not want. It is a perfectly displayed example of the SEPARATION OF POWERS and like millions and millions of us who hate the abortion ruling to this day, we have lived with it while cringing at the millions and millions children who have died.

Should the CONSTITUTIONALLY DESIGNED AND MANDATED court overturn your law, which I and millions and millions of Americans have already decided it should, you too will have to live with your failure to usurp the CONSTITUTION while millions and millions of us rejoice that the CONSTITUTION still works in YOUR OBTUSE VERSION OF America!

You are about to view something that can only be described as totally historic and amazing. In this video, you will get a close-up view of the ancient Emperor of China's beautiful and vast palace in Shenyang, china. It looks a lot like the Forbidden City in Beijing, but in reality, this one in Shenyang is actually older and the first major palace and court of the power Qing Dynasty of ancient China. Though the Forbidden City in China is larger and has many more buildings than in Shenyang, the Forbidden City was actually a replica of the one in Shenyang. I hope you enjoy this video and that it inspires you to get out and see your world!

I was invited to teach in two very poor areas of the City of Shenyang, China. I was so excited to go there until I saw where these beautiful and very smart children were forced to study and how their parents were being soaked by the owner of these two very rundown and very dirty facilities. Believe it or not, there are over 1000 students students studying in the two schools you will see in this video. The video is a bit shaky and I had to hide what was being filmed at times, but it is important to watch. Though China is developing very quickly, the Government of China needs to ensure that where ever a child studies in the nation of China is safe, clean, sanitary and fit to have children study in. I certainly believe that no child should ever be forced to study in the places like you are going to view in this video. Children are a nation's future. Education like you will see here is certainly not education at all and no child should ever be forced to study in places like this.

As an educator who has taught in many countries at the private and university levels, I can say that what I saw and experienced in China at the Shenyang Institute of Engineering was school very dedicated to giving their students the best education available. I was very encouraged and happy to teach these wonderful young people and to prepare them for a life that could be rewarded with success. Though there are certainly things that needed to be improved, It is my belief that these Chinese students are smart, very open and very respectful. I miss them now and my experience with them in their country of China will be for me forever something that changed me and made me better. Though I taught them lots of things, and they learned many new lessons, the person in each class I taught who learned the most was me! Though China does have a controlling government, I can say they are concerned for their young people and have a genuine desire to educate them and to prepare them for the changing world they will face. Nothing has ever affected me more positively, and I had the best teaching experience of my life. God bless each and every one of them!

I had the privilege of working at the Shenyang Institute of Engineering in Shenyang, China as a visiting Author/Professor for 6 months. This city is the third largest city in China, with over 9 million people. Though it is not famous for tourism, it actually holds some of the most precious and oldest pieces of Chinese history ever found. The Forbidden City in Beijing is large and famous, but the Emperor's palace in Shenyang is actually older and more beautiful than that which is in the Capital city of China. I hope you enjoy the cultural aspects of this video that will give you a real taste of life in this massive and amazing nation. My videos are to educate my viewers about the world we live in through my travels and my book trailers. I love to travel and experience culture, and I love to point out the positive and not so positive forces at work in the world at large. I know you'll find all my videos educational, challenging and full of information that you'll find interesting and exciting.

Well, I'm not there yet, but i am going to China next week. I have been invited to teach and speak on writing as a guest/instructor/author. I

have called this the North to South Speaking Tour is because I will start in Shenyang and the go south.

From Shenyang to Beijing, to speak to students about writing a novel and the experience of writing one's memoirs.

My ultimate goal is to reach the island of Hainan, which is like a tropical paradise. I will teach some classes at one of the universities in Hainan Province, and perhaps others.

This is a great opportunity and I will write some new chapters to a needed update to my memoirs. I plan on posting regular reports of the life, freedom compared to America, people, food, language, food, the culture and of course...the food! So, though I may be a bit vacant, it is because I am. There some internet challenges in China. I am not sure about facebook, but there are many ways to let freedom ring! God bless all of you.Beijing

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A Bridge To Cross - The Most Intelligent of Idiots - the Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

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Bombs, Love and Babies - My Mom Geneva Bradley - The Most Intelligent of Idiots The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

Bombs, Love and Babies

Geneva Wireman never served in the Armed Forces; she went to school tilll the sixth grade and she was the smartest and most clever and determined woman anyone could know. Geneva also did her part to defeat tyranny by working in the most dangerous part of the munitions complex at Kingsbury, Indiana, where the explosives were placed into the bombs. Geneva worked together at the plant with Hazel Winfrey, formerly Hazel Bradley. One night after work, Geneva Wireman went to Hazel Bradley’s home and she saw a photo of a big man with a very handsome and kind face. She asked who he was and after learning that he was her friend Hazel’s brother, Willis, Geneva looked at the photo and my mom blurted out, “I’m going to marry him!”

Geneva Bradley-The Smartest person everywhere she went!

Geneva Wireman, my mother, was born in 1925 and was a very sensitive, strong and determined woman. I cannot think of anything she started that she did not complete. She taught us kids that nothing was worth doing if we couldn’t do it to its completion. She was one of the best guitar players I have ever heard and determined to make sure that her kids had a better life than she had had and had the biggest heart I have ever seen in anyone. She was quite possibly the only person I had ever trusted completely, because of her integrity and her selfless love for her children. I think of her almost every day.

The reason why I have included the Kingsbury Munitions Plant in this adventure is because without that now historic place, I would have never been here to write this story. It was not long after my mother; Geneva Wireman shouted “I am going to marry him,” Hazel set up a blind date for Geneva with her brother and my father, Willis Bradley. I have always known that I have a lot of determination. I have come to realize that I got it honst, as my dad was known to say.

Though it may be hard to believe, it is true; they went out on their first date and were married the same night; only two weeks after my mom declared that she would marry that man in Hazel Winfrey’s photo. My dad went on to work at Studebakers for eighteen years, and my mom became the greatest babysitter in the history of the world.

Now, statistics do bear out that such marriages rarely last. In fact, though it’s a family secret, my mom and dad never realized that we kids knew that my father had already married once before he had ever met my mom. I do not know the woman’s name nor do I know why, but my dad’s first marriage was annulled shortly after they wed. Yet, my mother and father defied the odds, raised five kids and were married for fifty-three years before my dad’s heart disease finally overcame him in 1996.

In Back - From Left to right, Diann Hartz, sister, Gary Bradley, brother, Steven Bradley, brother

Front Row - Joann Bradley, sister, Mark Bradley, brother

My loving and selfless mother spent her last precious days here gathering all of her chicks under her protective wings. Her diabetes had taken its toll and she succumbed and joined my father in October of 2001. We loved them both and have a never ending respect and memories of two people who demonstrated unconditional love and determination to give us a better life than they had had. I remember you both, I love you both and one day, I will join you both as well. Thank you for the bombs, and the love you both showed to your babies.

We Will love you and miss you forever!

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The Consortium finishes the Patriot Acts Trilogy...

In Part One we saw an evil plot between Iran and right-wing radical American Nazis to destroy the nation. In Part II, the plausible scenario of a biological terror attack ruthlessly is hatched by enemies of the state. In Part III of the Patriot Acts series the world banking and global power brokers are explored.

In September, 2008, The Fed and the treasury came to President George W. Bush and issued him a suicide threat. Secretary Henry Paulson walked into the Oval Office and put a gun to his own head and said, $800 Billion or in 24 hours we die and 5 trillion dollars would disappear with the entire world economy. President Bush said yes. What if he had said NO?

Chapter Fifteen

The White House,

Washington, D.C.

March 11, 2012 3:42 p.m.

“I am placing the nation under emergency powers effective upon my signing of this document. The authority of the Emergency Powers Act will not be enforced until tonight, but the temporary powers of the moment do immediately grant the president the power to appoint anyone to vital vacant seats in the Executive Branch. Technically, the speaker has not officially recalled Congress back from recess. I love that word recess; it suits them perfectly.” Fisher chuckled.

Michelle handed Fisher the document and he placed his signature in the appropriate place. Then, Michelle gave President Harrison a second document. Fisher read it out loud.

“By the powers under the State of National Emergency act of 1977, the president has the power to appoint any vital vacant seat and it shall not be automatically removed when and if emergency rule is lifted, and only shall the president’s appointments be removed by resignation, end of life issues or impeachment for high crimes and misdemeanors, as prescribed by law and the Constitution of the United States of America.

“Therefore, I hereby appoint Hamilton W. Smith to be Vice President of the United States.” Fisher signed the appointment letter and looked at Hamilton. Fisher thought he looked excited and terrified at the same time.

“Hamilton Smith, would you raise your right hand?” Fisher asked.

Hamilton raised his hand and slightly pulled it down two times before Fisher recited the words and Hamilton repeated them. Secret Service came to the door and Fisher, Michelle and Vice President Hamilton Smith all walked out of the Oval Office and headed to two different escorted cars which would depart for two different escorted places.

Hamilton’s destination was in hiding in an undisclosed location, while Fisher’s destination was for the whole world to see. Fisher leaned over to speak to Hamilton as they walked down the White House hallway.

“Hamilton, way back in time, at Iron Mountain prison in Alaska, you remember.” They stood in front of two different limousines and Fisher took his new vice president’s hand and congratulated him. “Well, Hamilton, I just wanted to take back some words from way back when I said in a moment of foolish jesting. Because you’re not just a Smith; you are Vice President Smith.”

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 3:52 p.m.

“Approach, I need assistance. This is Captain Ray Jerrod; the coordinates you have sent us do not work. You are taking us into the wall of the mountain.” Jerrod pulled and banked left. Jerrod was a good pilot, and he knew this was not an error. Such errors don’t just happen.

A mountain wall appeared before the pilot and he heaved the yoke back all the way. He feared a stall as he had aimed the nose almost straight upward. Margaret and Nate were strapped in, but both had passed out from forces that neither this plane nor human bodies were built to withstand.

“Control, this is GB1 taking evasive action maneuvers and …”

“We’re gonna make it.” The pilot screamed out and straightened out the airplane. “Get back there and check on them.” The navigator specialist got out of his seat and opened the cockpit door. He saw the First lady slumped over and her baby had started crying.

He quickly walked over and called out her name. “Mrs. Harrison … Mrs. Harrison, are you alright?” Margaret’s eyelids began to move and her eyes blinked and finally, she moaned and cried out,

“Where’s my baby?”

Over Iceland,

the Atlantic Ocean

March 11, 2012 7:55 p.m.

Roger, GB1.” The control officer passed his microphone to a tall man with wavy hair in a nicely knitted suit. “He’s all yours Mr. Berkowitz.”

“Well, Peter, so you are a man of character, whatever that means, but I like you. You’re the other side of me.”

“You lie; I am nothing like you. I breathe air not money and power.” Peter suddenly shouted into Berkowitz’s ear piece, making him wince a bit.

"Well, it lives. I thought you had found Jesus or something and were on your way to paradise. Very well, here goes nothing.”

Berkowitz took a card from his pocket and swiped it and his screen came up. He logged onto the same channel that Peter Barlowe used to control his forces. Then he punched in his personal code and a signal was instantly sent to the pilot of the GB1. As the code streamed it found the command to find the micro-circuit lying dormant in the back of the scalp of one Captain Ray Jerrod, the pilot who was now trying to fly the First Lady and her son to safety. The subject was found and it instantly sent the command to obey Berkowitz’s command. It also registered inside the data crunching computers of Homeland Security, the Pentagon, the NSA and the CIA.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 3:57 p.m.

Pilot Captain Ray Jerrod felt Berkowitz’s commands overtake him slowly. He thought it was air sickness then it was like an instantaneous bout of the stomach flu and then just before he was sure he was going to die, he went calm and felt fine. It was the strangest feeling he had ever had.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

First Lady’s Cabin

March 11, 2012, 3:57 p.m.

“It’s OK honey, we’re OK now,” Margaret told her baby, which she knew was a lie.

“Mrs. Harrison, I want to stay here with you and help, but I have to assist the pilot. Are you OK?”

“Thank you; my son is OK, so I’ll be fine.” Margaret had the greatest urge to scream out for her husband and only let it resonate in her head. Fisher, where are you? Fisher, I love you.

Over Iceland, the Atlantic Ocean

March 11, 2012 7:57 p.m.

Berkowitz spoke to the pilot. “Captain, you are a true patriot, full of everything our money could buy, and that’s a hell of a lot. The problem is, I am not, and I don’t need to be. These are your orders.”

En route to Joint Session of Congress

Washington, D.C.

March 11, 2012 4:05 p.m.

President Fisher Harrison rode in his limousine for the just over a two mile ride between 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW and 100 Constitution Ave NE. He looked out the windows and the two most prominent things he saw were throngs of people with great distress stretched across their faces waving and shouting out well wishes to their a president they trusted. He also saw throngs of soldiers as far as the eye could see. They were all there in battle fatigues and seemingly ready to fight a war or to start one. Of course they all think I ordered them out here.

Fisher saw one man in particular holding up a large sign with the map of the United States prominently displayed with drops of blood dripping down. It read, ‘Is America’s Democracy Bleeding?’Another sign showed a flag shaped into the United States with all the colors running into each other. The words across it read, ‘Why are these colors running?’

They all spoke to him and he knew these fine people loved him, but not as much as they simply needed him, and it gave Fisher great fear and trembling to imagine three hundred million Americans thrown to the dictatorial rule of whatever political charade the Consortium would raise up to hide behind.

Fisher’s motorcade continued on and stress seemed to form all over Fisher’s body, and he felt a trembling inside his arms, hands and legs. He knew it was all far too big for his feeble arms to carry. Fisher waved and didn’t know if the people outside could see him or not, but he caught a glimpse of an old man in a Air Force uniform and holding a sign that was plain and simple, but which bore words that were just like a ray of light in a dark and frozen world to Fisher Harrison. He had needed to read its message before taking on a great nemesis such as the Consortium.

“Driver, I want you to stop the car for a moment. Do you see the big plain sign behind us?”

“Yes, sir, but that against protocol.”

"I realize that, but I need you to ask him, not tell him, but ask him if the president could see him for just a moment.”

The driver radioed to one of the cars behind the president’s to talk with the man. A moment later, a Secret Service agent was standing by the president’s door with the older gentleman. Fisher lowered the window and looked at the sign that told him how to proceed. It gave him hope and told him God had heard his pleas. Fisher read the words. He had heard President Tate use them before. Then Fisher spoke them out loud. “Don’t be afraid to fight this war.”

Fisher looked up at the man standing by Fisher’s window and the old man saw that the president had tears in his eyes. His face had taken on a deep shade of red due to the adrenaline woven together with sorrow.

“Please forgive me for accosting you this way, but your sign touched me so much and it is a direct answer to me from God through you. We need direction, my brother.”

“Mr. President, the honor and privilege is all mine. Would you like to have it, sir? The sign I mean.”

”That’s really generous of you, but it is of much greater value right where you are. Right now, you just might be more powerful than I am, in this awful situation; and isn’t that the way it’s truly supposed to be?”

“Here, let me sign it and that means I will follow your advice, my friend.” Fisher said and placed his signature on the poster.

“I will never forget this day, Mr. President.”

“Please don’t, and remember how your simple message gave a president great resolve. What a truth and stress reliever to know someone is bigger than our feeble abilities to control the deeds and intents of evil men and women.”

Fisher put his arm out the window and shook the elderly man’s hand. “I wish I could get out and thank you appropriately, but these guys might kill me trying to protect me. I will do my best to preserve that you have worked so hard to have and to pass on to your children. Thank you for letting God employ you, sir. ‘Don’t be afraid to fight this war.’ I really love that. Pray for America.”

President Fisher Harrison had no idea how his resolve would soon be placed under maximum danger.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 4:12 p.m.

The Navigator Specialist reentered the cockpit and strapped himself in for what he knew would be a rough landing.

“Ray, did they radio you?”

“Yes, they did.”

“And … what’d they tell you?” The navigator looked out ahead and saw the well hidden runway. “Great, Captain, you did it.”

Captain Ray Jarrod looked over at his Navigation Specialist and pulled out his side arm.

Jarrod said the words exactly as he had been instructed. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

The navigator laughed “Yea Captain …” He looked at the pilot and saw his friend and comrade, Captain Jarrod’s sidearm staring back at him. “Yea I have been told that a few times. What are you doing, Captain?”

“Well, they’ll never tell you that again.” Captain Ray Jarrod squeezed the trigger and unloaded three shots into the navigator’s head. Then, his next orders flashed through his mind.

He switched on the intercom and spoke to the First lady. “Mrs. Harrison, we have the runway in sight...”

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The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

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There is nothing greater than writing & creating something from nothing. It's the closest thing to the divine! I have lived in many cultures and it has given me a love for the differences amongst us. I am a student of American culture and write about the changes in our society. Take a look at my Novels and find some stories that might just read YOU!

Willis Bradley, was a man of great humor and deep thought, as with me, his son, there was an ocean of imagination waiting to be tapped. I realized that not so much from his words, but rather from his actions. My patriarchal father was a very fair man. He made tons of mistakes with us kids, and we deserved them all. Yet, my father taught me two very power lessons in my life. He taught me how to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and to forgive even when pardon was not sought. Willis Bradley was the most common great man I have ever known.

The Passing of a Giant

I read somewhere once that you know you are not a child anymore when you realize that one day, you are going to die. One of the most wonderful things about childhood is that everything is lived for the future. Children generally never look back and always look forward. They think about the next day off school, the next holiday and the upcoming summer vacation.

I had lived in the rough and tumble world of Middle East Asia and Africa where death was a constant reminder of one’s mortality. So, with death and fighting and war and all that goes along with such societies, death became, for me, something that touched others and left me alone. That make-believe idea that everything would always be good and that those I loved would always be there was shattered on June 16, 1997.

My father, Willis Bradley, was a man of great humor and deep thought, as with me, his son, there was an ocean of imagination waiting to be tapped. I realized that not so much from his words, but rather from his actions. My patriarchal father was a very fair man. He made tons of mistakes with us kids, and we deserved them all. Yet, my father taught me two very power lessons in my life. He taught me how to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and to forgive even when pardon was not sought. Willis Bradley was the most common great man I have ever known.

The only thing that I wish my father had done, in his life, was to share more of what made this serious, jovial, loving, very strong tempered and completely merciful man who he was. My dad suffered from a serious inability to see how much god had used him. He was my greatest example of a great man seeking forgiveness and giving it to others so freely. Willis Bradley was the greatest man I have ever known.

Since his first heart attack in 1981, he had suffered several heart related problems and medical procedures. In 1987, while I was living in France, my father suffered another very serious heart attack. I was forced to fly home. My daughter, Amber, wouldn’t speak to me all day, when she knew I was leaving. I swear I tried to hug that girl at least ten times that day, and she just would not respond. That night, I was leaving home to take a train to Paris and then board a plane to Chicago, where my very sick father was going to have bypass on his heart. I will never forget how when I picked up my bags to walk out to my taxi, Amber ran to me and jumped in my arms and hugged me and told me four times, “You’re my daddy.” It was an unforgettable moment.

My dad was about to have his heart stopped and have new veins attached to his heart and implanted with a defibrillator and have his heart restarted when his heart began to flutter and get of rhythm. This wasn’t the first time he had been hospitalized, but it was definitely the worst one. Every child our father had raised stood around his bed. He knew we loved him and cherished him, and no matter what happened, we were there with him. I recall my dad looking into each of our faces and said, “I want you all to forgive me. I am sorry for my mistakes. I love you all.” We all cried, of course, and I looked at my brother Gary. “It should be us who asked his forgiveness.” Of course Gary agreed. We all watched him disappear into the operating room, and we saw him when he came out. That was a strong old man and I was proud to be his son. That operation helped my father live more than ten years longer.

In 1997, my father’s heart was just tired. He had fought the good fight with his uncooperative body and now simply put, he was weary. His defibrillator, which normally would erupt in his chest about once a month, was now going off at least four to five times a day. He was as terrified of the large dose of electrical current, which had always kept the beat of his heart steady. He told me he feared that jolt with painful increasing frequency and almost as much as actual death.

By the time Nuran had left for Turkey, for two months, in May of 1997, it was obvious that my father was tired and weakened beyond the point of recovery. I am thankful for the chance I had to stay with him for almost five weeks before his heart gave way for the last time. For me, there it is nothing short of amazing to see how God cares for even the smallest of details. I had already driven three hundred miles to bring my children up to my mom’s and dad’s house and they had been able to get to know their grandfather and to spend Father’s Day with me and their grandfather.

I recall my father’s face, on what would be his last father’s day. He looked gaunt, weak and worn. His frazzled look spelled only one thing in my mind, my seventy-five year old father was going to die very soon. He really did his best to be strong and seemed to love his day with the family he knew loved him, but it was easy to see that his time was short and I wanted to live it all with him.

I can still see and hear my conversation outside with my sister Diann and her husband, John. I just could see it all in my head and the most amazing realization of my dad’s soon passing filled my mind and was as clear as the sun that was shinning. I looked at my sister and brother in law and spoke what I knew would come true.

“You all should be here tomorrow, because Dad’s going to die tomorrow.”

Neither of them responded, but they looked at me with expressions of slight disbelief. I cannot say I had a vision or a bright light. It was just a point of understanding that had fixed itself firmly in my mind. My whole family gathered around our father for what would become an amazing family portrait that would become his last one with all of us together. I wished Nuran was there. She loved my dad and indeed he loved her back. I knew the whole situation would have torn her up, so I didn’t say too much to her, since she was so far away. My children seemed oblivious to the whole sad situation, and I was glad. Death does not mean much to children since they have their whole lives out ahead of them.

On June 16, 1997, my father was having a very bad day. He had felt dizzy all day, and in the afternoon I heard him fall to the floor. I rushed to his room and lifted him to his knees and there, at the side of his bed, with my arm wrapped around his shoulder, my father prayed to Jesus to take him home. He told his Lord that he was tired and that he was ready, but I certainly was not.

Over the past five weeks, I don’t think I had left my father’s side once except to run to the store for my mom. It would be my oldest daughter, Crystal’s thirteenth birthday, in a few days and I wanted to do something special for her. I took all three of them to the park and we had a wonderful time together. I found it to be a very difficult juggling act to be daddy and son to an expiring father at the same time. We spent about three hours together to celebrate Crystal’s birthday and returned home.

I noticed immediately that there were several cars parked in my parents’ driveway and several people outside. I parked my car and knew something terrible had happened. I recall distinctly looking at the front door when my brother’s pastor walked out and saw me, he shook his head to the left and right and the expression on his face had said it all. I had not left my dear dad’s side for several weeks and I took the chance to spend some time with my children and he had died while I was gone.

I truly cannot remember all that happened to me, at that very moment, but simple took off running and fell to the ground in disbelieve and sat there and wept a million tears. I had so wanted to spend his last moments with him, when he passed, but had missed it. My children gathered around me and comforted me and I was so glad they were there to live that awful moment with me. When I saw my mother, who had just lost her husband of almost fifty-four years, was stricken and broken and sat in her chair with tears streaming down her face.

When my father had collapsed onto the living room floor, she called my brother Gary and then she got down on the floor with my father and cradled his head in her arms. She told him she loved him and hugged him. She told me he opened his eyes once and smiled at her and then looked up and smiled, and he was gone. Gary came and did CPR on him but it was to no avail. My dear, godly and beautiful father had met the one who had given him life in the first place. I knew where he was, but I wanted him back. Instead, one day I shall go to meet him in a place much better than the one he left.

The whole very terrible situation was very difficult for my beautiful wife, Nuran. My dad and she had developed a very close relationship, and she loved my dad very much. For the past two years almost, my father had picked her up at work and brought her home and she loved his personality and his character. When I called Nuran in Turkey and told her that dad was gone, she couldn’t even speak. She asked me if we could talk later and before we hung up, I heard her start to sob and her heart broke. I will never forget the love Nuran showed my parents, at all times, even when it was not easy. She rests in my heart as one of my heroes because of her love and concern for the special people in my life.

Willis Bradley was not wealthy. He had only attended school until the fourth grade. He was loved and respected, but he had done nothing that would put him into history books. Yet, in my eyes and in the eyes of anyone who knew him, he was a giant. He had a heart full of love, wittiness, compassion and faith in his God. There is no one who stands in my mind today as the perfect example of Christ more than Willis Bradley, my father. I find that I am more like him than I had ever thought, and it is a wonderful complement every time someone compares me to him. Willis Bradley left behind two daughters, three sons, a house full of grandkids and hearts that truly admired and loved him. His was not just the death of a man. To us, and to anyone who knew him, his was the passing of a giant.

You’re the President of the United States and your nation is confronted with a virus that kills upon contact and you have information that the terrorists are holed up in an apartment in Downtown Los Angeles. Your Intel says it’s real. Your human advisors are split on whether to strike or to wait. You have to make a decision and it has to be now. Read this excerpt from The Second Republic Patriot Acts Part II. It will give you a glimpse of what the Commander in Chief must do to save his nation.

This is a Trap

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011, 3:04 p.m.

“Are you sure, Sam; downtown LA?” President Tate asked Secretary Blake who appeared on the screen from inside the Homeland Security Department, not far from the White House.

“Yes, Mr. President. We have a large force ready in the Los Angeles area awaiting your word. I think we can get the bastard.”

Fisher was troubled and wanted to explain. “Sam, I think the President needs to know, first of all, how you got the info. Because you’re telling me a simple trace yielded you this much information? God is great and good, but He seldom gives up adversaries so easily, not impossible, but unlikely.” Samuel said, “Sir, it is our only lead. We have to take action.”

“Thank you both. I always come away knowing more about how you guys think.”

“Could I please add something?” Fisher asked. “We should not forget that this is the man who, in less than twelve hours, has possibly killed more people in a single terrorist attack than any other in recorded history and orchestrated the assassination of the Vice President. So, I am supposed to believe that this perverted genius simply forgot to protect his call? It doesn’t work that way; I know something about it. Sam, please don’t get angry at me, but it is my recommendation that we not pursue this lead. It was way too easy, and it feels like a trap. We should give the President some time to consider this.”

“I will call you back in ten minutes, Sam.”

“Certainly, Mr. President.” The call ended.

* * *

Downtown Los Angeles

March 6, 2011, 3:18 p.m.

“Sir, we’re rather exposed here. Should we stand down?” Captain Mitch O’Connell asked.

“No, this is how he works, but he always makes the right decision,” the Secretary answered.

“Just like HR 8791?”

“The President has not decided on that.” Blake added, “I’m going to pretend I did not hear that. Now, you give me ten, and you’ll have your orders.”

“Yes sir.”

Captain O’Connell peered down the corridor of the old apartment building that had more whore houses than he’d seen anywhere else in Los Angeles. All fifty of his men stood in line and waited for ten minutes that felt like weeks.

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011, 3:09 p.m.

“Fisher, we have to do something. Every lead must be pursued.”

“Mr. President, do you remember what you said about feeling something in your gut before they killed Bill? I get that same feeling about this raid. We’re dealing with a crazy man, but also a very smart man who’s so pissed he’s ready to take the entire human race with him into oblivion.”

Tate’s face took on a look of great anxiety. “I have the lives of Americans, possibly the entire world, in my hands right now. This is the decision of my lifetime; I know that. That’s how it works. We’ll see how much the American people want me if I do what it takes to end this crisis. The medicine is often as bad as the disease … this time worse.”

Secretary Blake’s face appeared on the large screen again. “Sam, I’m uploading.”

Sam pressed the send button and an order appeared on Tate’s screen. Using a small digital pen, he wrote his name on a plastic pad, and it appeared on the document. Tate then saved it and sent it back to Blake.

“Let’s hope we’re right, Sam.”

Downtown Los Angeles

March 6, 2011, 3:14 p.m.

“Captain O’Connell, engage.”

“Copy that.”

O’Connell flashed a thumb up, and his men eased up the stairs. Two of them carried a bar and heaved it two times before the door flew open. At that moment, a heavy deathly stream of smoke burst out of the room with the smell of burnt flesh that flowed through the air. The attack force rushed in and couldn’t make out anything clearly through the haze, and their eyes felt hot.

Their flashlights caught a scene that made several huge, macho men throw up their guts. Around them piles of gooey, grayish slime covered the floor. Full heads of long hair lay twisted in the center of each deathly scene.

“We’ve got a massacre here.”

“Sir, it’s hard to tell, but there appears to be about twenty dead illegal aliens here, and you called this a safe-house?”

O’Connell stepped across the threshold and covered his mouth and nose as his men spoke.

“They’re all dead … melted, I mean wasted away … no more.”

“No one deserves this … no one.”

“Are you all right?”

“Don’t send anyone here. I am sealing the door. I repeat, send no one. Lord, please help us.”

“Captain O’Connell?”

“This is President Tate. How can we help you?”

“Sir, don’t send anyone here. It is a setup. We are sealing the perimeter, Mr. President and trying to stop outside contamination. You have to stop this or it’ll kill everyone.”

The assault team shut their radios off.

“O’Connell, are you there?”

The attack force members searched the apartment until they found an old mattress and some sheets. They threw them against the door and then sealed it with duct tape.

One, then three felt the internal affects of the virus almost immediately. The infection quickly spread to each one of them. Their lungs burned from having breathed in the biological death. They each pulled their guns and pointed them at their own heads.

“Live free or die,” they all shouted and pulled the triggers. Each of them fell to the ground. Several had already started to dissolve before deciding what death they should endure. The thick evil material engulfed each of them, who had already mercifully ended their own lives.

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011, 3:17 p.m.

“Sam, no one can leave that building,” the President demanded. “Anyone who attempts to flee is to be warned and shot if they do not comply. Activate the LAPD police network to consolidate their coverage. Their top priority is to facilitate the CDC in any manner requested.”

“Sam, you’re their boss now. I want helicopters overhead shining lights down there to make sure no one leaves. Get the army in there. We have a catastrophic event, and we must respond with catastrophic measures. Lincoln did it in a crisis not nearly as cataclysmic as this. Habeas Corpus is suspended until this order is rescinded, by the President. This order is in effect immediately at the sound of my voice, and a signed order will be forthcoming.”

“Yes sir, I will call out the all available National Guard and Reserves,” Secretary Blake said.

“I want restraint and demand fairness without neglecting to remember that these are our American brothers and sisters. In addition, Sam, all forces are now activated. This is a National Peril Alert. Any person, not stationed abroad, whether on leave of any kind, should report for duty immediately. Any member the United States Armed Forces who has not reported for duty by the end of April 7, 2011, without prior authorization, will be reported as AWOL. Get the hard copy to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir, as we speak, Mr. President.”

Tate switched off the screen. He pressed a button on his phone. “Michelle, are the documents ready? And everyone in place?”

“Yes sir, everything is in order. Mr. President …”

You can read these excerpts as well from The Second Republic:

The Second Republic - Patriot Acts II "This is an EMERGENCY!"




Flying Dead... The Second Republic Patriot Acts Part II

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Take A Sneak Peek at Patriot Acts III The Consortium

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Recently, I was a approached by a former publisher of mine to write my memoirs. I was, to say the least, surprised that anyone was interested, and who know, they may not be!I told my publisher that the problem with writing an auto biography was that I had to tell the truth. This has become a real adventure in itself and I have come to realize that if you are one of those who is smart and who still does stupid things at times, then you'll love my story. I hope you read this excerpt and let me know what you think.

This is a work in progress

(Have mercy on any typos you may find :>)

A Stranger Just in Time

Knox, Indiana,

May, 1974

It was going to be a great day. I got out of school early and started a journey that would totally change my life. I always find it strange today how a four hundred pound, fourteen year-old boy could actually look in the mirror and think he looked good. Yet, until I was almost fifteen, that’s exactly what I did.

(Steven at 8 years old)

I have developed the theory that the human brain has some kind of mechanism that makes the eyes inside of a fat body not see the real person reflecting back at them; at least, that was my case, after the expanse of my guts got bigger than it had ever been intended to be and when I took up more space than I was ever allotted to take up, I still thought I looked great. But, back in 1974, at the age of fourteen, going on fifteen, at four hundred something pounds, I felt just fine, until my mom stuck her nose into my fat problem. I thank God she did, and she knew how to get each of us kid’s attention. Geneva Bradley was definitely the smartest person everywhere she went.

One day, I was walking out of the high school and my mother was waiting outside to take me home. I was happy and bounded down the school steps. I got in the car and my mother looked at me and said, “Steven, you shake like a bowl of jello when you walk.” It was those words that had hit me like an arrow through my heart, and I had

( Steven 12 Years Old)

repeated them over and over and they made me angry and determined which was why today, I was leaving school early on this May afternoon in 1974. The result of

that afternoon appointment at the doctor’s left me with a bottle of diet pills that would eventually take me from a forty eight inch waist to a thirty-two inch belly in the short space of three month and it almost killed me.

Those days were the moments when I first really started to work on writing out my experience of trying to stop looking like a giant human ball. I was taking three times more each day than the doctor had prescribed, and it gave me an overdose of energy and I could not sit still. So, I wrote down almost everything I did when my self-prescribed two pills a day regimen seemed to be doing the trick.

(Steven In Little League)

I literally stopped eating. Often, I got hungry, made something to eat and found it the next morning where I had sat it down because I was too busy racing around doing things to remember to eat it. I stayed in my room, away from my mom, because if I hung around her, she’d know for sure what I was doing, but I was determined to lose more fat.

Sometimes in the morning, I could not remember if I had slept or not. I have always hated to sleep anyway. I have never slept more than five hours a day anyway. I didn’t care; the weight was melting off of me. I talked nice to my mom, and I was genuinely happy, because I liked what I was changing into. I stayed in my room and exercised, wrote everything in my journal and listened to some awesome Pink Floyd and Grand Funk Railroad, and then there was Emerson, Lake and Palmer, Steve Miller…

(Me after I lost all my weight)

I did some writing at home, but I did most of the recording of my experience at the library at school and downtown or wherever I could write about everything that had happened that day. I wrote it all down, from the day I went to the doctor to the day I replaced the pills with weed. I had a growing field of it, just growing wild and just waiting to be loved. I loved it and fertilized it and never had the Jones’ one time. I wrote it all in my

(My High School Graduation Day)

journal, which I had appropriately titled ‘The Happy Loser Diary,’ in tribute to all the weight I was losing. I recorded my movements, many of my thoughts, the excitement of beginning to finally looking human until the first day back at school right, after my fifteenth birthday. It was my way of making truth stranger than fiction. Here are some entries from my journal, The Happy Loser Diary.

Happy Loser Diary (301 pounds)

Entry 17

Friday, June 28, 1974 11:32 a.m.

Knox, Indiana

It was summer school. I’m not attending; I can’t be bothered with all that. I did have permission though to use the library in the mornings. I really liked the school library. The books cases are lined up in domino formation, or at least they were. The arrangement made it easy to see all the books. Earlier this morning, I was surprised to see the library full of students. There wasn’t an empty seat in the whole place. So, I just hung around.

(My Mom & Dad -

Willis & Geneva Wireman Bradley)

At one table, to my right, there were four boys laughing it up, big guys, Juniors or seniors and much bigger than me. They were all looking into the end of a pen at some kind of dirty pictures.

(My Dad, Mom and Sister Joann)

Then, suddenly, they all got up and walked out. That was my queue, and I sat down in the seat at the end of the table just as the scholastic thugs returned and walked up to me. One of them had long brown hair. He walked up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. He said, “Get out of chair.” I turned around to see who he was, to size him up and get an idea of what it would take to bring him down. Negotiation always buys time.

There would be no negotiations today; only reactive fury. I had been on the pills for two weeks at that time. My mind worked fast and I was used to giving off energy and I had a mother lode of it mixed with rage this morning.

(My Brothers and Sisters, Left to Right Back Row: Diann, Gary, Me Front Row: Joann & Mark)

I turned my head toward the high school big boy and he hit me in the face. That just could not be allowed and left me no choice. The pills were coursing through me now and forcing adrenaline through my head. I stood up fast and just let the rage rising up inside me propel me to almost want to kill the boy. I grabbed that big bad boy by all of his long hair and wrapped his girly locks

(My Dad's Studebaker's ID card 1944)

around my arm and pulled his face down on my knee. He was screaming and yelling. “My hair, let go of my hair.” I had to shown him that it was not wise to judge others by appearance. But that was not enough for the most intelligent of idiots. Then, I literally picked him up in the air and threw him against the bookcases in the library. One by one, every bookcase fell to the floor and thank God, no one was in the aisle. They were all watching me kick that bad boy’s butt.

I heard the noise of at least twelve rows of cases tumbling downward, one by one. I put my hands to my side and looked at the devastation and said, “Oh, No!” Everyone laughed, except for the librarian. I was kicked out of the upcoming first week of the new

(My Mother, Geneva Wireman 18 years old)

school year. That was a deal of a lifetime. I must have scared the stupid boy’s male anatomy to death, because every time he sees me at school, he goes the other way. For me, I was of a mind to apologize, which I never got to do.

Magazine featuring my campaign

for Mayor of South Bend, Indiana

The Happy Loser Diary (292 pounds)

Entry 26

July 21, 1974 4:35 p.m.

Knox, Indiana

It was four-thirty; was it morning or this afternoon? I can’t be sure. I remember checking my watch. I felt like I had just awakened, but I had actually realized that I was outside, downtown in an alley and pacing back and forth. I couldn’t remember where I was, barely knew who I was or how to get out of the alleyway and back on the street. My brain still feels like it’s on fire. I couldn’t sit still and walked my reducing body of 292 pounds around in circles.

About the only thing that can get me to sit still for a while is sitting in the library reading World book Encyclopedias. I am devouring them and reading through them with almost religious ferocity. Reading through the volumes of information gave me a taste for the beyond, out of my realm of activity, to worlds so different than my own. The thought tantalizes me as an almost fifteen year old thinning boy who wants significance.

Then there was politics; I remember loving politics since I was a young boy in 1968 when Nixon was running against Hubert Humphrey. I crave information on the president, Watergate, the history and documents of the republic. During campaign season, I watched it all, followed each state and read every word of Time Magazine, Newsweek and US News and World reports. I have to know, to see it, to be able to speak to it and understand the way the rest of the world thought.

I remember sitting in the Knox Indiana City Library reading about Bangladesh. “It’s the poorest country in the world, and one day, I will see it with my own eyes.” I told myself. I opened the B volume to read the rest on the famished land of the Bengalis. I heard something and felt the library table shaking. My eyes glanced up and there was such a pretty face looking back at me.

Though, I truly cannot remember her name, a beautiful girl was smiling at me and said, “You know, you’re looking great.” That was nice. So, I smiled and looked at her and said, “You too.” She smiled and then frowned. I was not implying she had gone from fat to slim like I was doing. She looked down at the time magazines I had spread around me and the Newsweek magazine and three different World Book volumes open before me.

You’re smart aren’t you?” She said. All I could respond was, “I don’t know.” I had truly never thought or wondered about that. I just liked what I liked and hated what I hated, but it made me think. I was a boy who hated to hurt people and wanted to make them laugh, and to reach out and to do something significant.

I looked at the pretty face of this unnamed creature that was very wonderful to behold. I thought about my words and then said, “I don’t know if I’m smart, I might just be the most intelligent of idiots.” She smiled nicely and I think truly coolly turned around and said, “Is that going to be the name of your biography?”

Happy Loser Diary (207 Pounds)

Entry 27, Knox, Indiana

August 4, 1974, 5:49 p.m.

There was also another face I recall seeing in my drug-induced stupor. I can still see it looking down at me as I opened my glossy speeding eyes while sprawled out on the sidewalk. Earlier today, I was reeling and so nervous I thought I’d shake all my bones lose. I can see it all now so clearly. I kept trying to figure out how to get out of that cursed alley. It had crossed my narcotic-Laced brain a few times with the notion that maybe I had died and I was in hell; cursed to wander to and fro for eternity in that dark and gloomy alleyway. That was ridiculous since I do not even believe in God.

What if I walked to the end of the alley, if I can get to the street?” Nothing seemed real and my mind felt like it was suddenly in slow motion. My body was reeling from hyper activity for days on end and then a sudden shutdown of the energy made me feel like the medicine felt stronger than usual, probably because I had most likely messed up and taken three. There I was walking in circles but forced myself to move in one direction and I found the end of the alleyway and ended up on the city sidewalk, right in front of Chuck’s tavern. Everything looked hazy and my hands and feet were tingling and my legs felt like rubber. I sat myself down on the sidewalk just before everything went black. I remember, everything was gone except mere echoes.

I could feel someone breathing on me; someone was watching me as I lay on the cement sidewalk. My eyes opened and I caught a glimpse of someone, a him or a her, as my eyes flashed open and closed several times. Whoever it was grabbed me under my arms and lifted me up and walked me all around town to keep me awake and use up some of the mother lode of excess energy that three of the pills at the Franke time had produced. I felt like everything was jumbled and somehow real but not. The bundle of nerves and thoughts and words I was no longer able to get out had induced a panic inside me that I was fading away. The stranger made sure I had revived, sat me down and let go of my arms.

Happy Loser Diary (147 pounds)

Entry 32, Knox, Indiana

August 19, 1974, 6:32 p.m.

My first day back to school today was one of the most enjoyable days of my childhood. I had traveled from the world of the fat and ugly four hundred and twenty three pound me to the world of skinny and still ugly one hundred forty-three beautiful pounds.

Just yesterday, I saw my fifteen year old brother, Gary for the first time in two months. He had been caught doing a legal no-no and had been on a two-month retreat behind bars. My mom actually went to talk the judge. The honorable someone told her that he was going to put Gary on probation. My mom asked to lock Gary up for two months, which the judge approved. When I walked into the house, earlier today, Gary saw me but had no idea who I was. He had been … away while the pounds rolled off me. When I spoke and he heard my voice, he knew immediately who I was and his mouth dropped open. And, it got better.

When I walked into the school, after having almost hidden out for the whole summer, no one knew who I was. I was just learning about my new self as well. I remember one of my best friends, Peggy back, looked at me and realized it was me and started crying, hugged me and she said, “Are you dying?” My response was perfect. “Dying? I just started living!” The moment was and is precious.

Without a doubt, the most memorable part of the day is when I went into Mr. Ostreiker. He was for sure one of the very best, and his demeanor made me always want to go to his class. I walked in and found a seat close to the front. There would be no backseat numskull anymore. The Teacher walked up to me and looked up at the class.

Let me have your attention, we have a new student with us.” He looked at me and said my name wasn’t on the roster. “Welcome, what’s your name, young man?”

I could scarcely hold my laughter. “Steven Bradley.” I said. Mr. Ostreiker looked slightly befuddled. It was obvious he was having a moment of where his brain was deciphering conflicting information from the previous year; he smiled. “We have another Steven Bradley.”

I inhaled so not to kill the moment with laughter. He walked closer to me and looked at me. “Stand up, young man.” He told me. “It is you; everyone, give Mr. Bradley a hand.” It was embarrassing and perfect.”

As I read a new these early records of my life, I can see place after place where God placed his protecting hand on me and saved me from arrest, from danger, and that day, from certain death. I never learned who this stranger just in time was, but I have a good idea where he came from, but why send a stranger in time to save the most intelligent of idiots?

Steven Clark Bradley

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley

Where is Patriot Acts available?

This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Amazon,com

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Cambridge Books

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Ebooks on the net

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Amazon.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Fictionwise.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Mobipocket.com

I hope everyone who reads this will not just think
it is entertainment or the irrational rambling of a scared
American. I am not afraid; I am convinced that no one
will secure our future except us.
That is why I declare the main theme of Patriot Acts
in one key phrase:

No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!

Check Out Steven Clark Bradley's
Free E-Book Offer Here!

You can read more of
Steven Clark Bradley's
work at any of these blogs
listed below:

Author Steven Clark Bradley
From The Mind of Steven Clark Bradley
Steven Clark Bradley @ Inspired Author
Steven Clark Bradley - Nikki Leigh Virtual Book Tours
Steven Clark Bradley @ The Power of The Written Word
Steven Clark Bradley @ Communati.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Blogtalk Radio.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Facebook
Steven Clark Bradley @ Twitter.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Xanga.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Amazon.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ yuku.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Bookmarket.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Published Authors.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Word That Work
Steven Clark Bradley @ Goodreads.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Myspace.com

Is Paris Burning?

In September 2008, The Fed and the treasury came to President George W. Bush and issued him a suicide threat like Secretary Henry Paulson walked into the Oval Office and put a gun to his own head and said, eight hundred Billion dollars or in 24 hours we die and 5 trillion dollars would disappear with the entire... world economy. President Bush said yes. What if had said NO? Take a look at

Executive Order

Executive Order- Patriot Acts III - Inevitable?

Steven Clark Bradley

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley

Where is Patriot Acts available?

This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Amazon,com

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Cambridge Books

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Ebooks on the net

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Amazon.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Fictionwise.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Mobipocket.com

I hope everyone who reads this will not just think
it is entertainment or the irrational rambling of a scared
American. I am not afraid; I am convinced that no one
will secure our future except us.
That is why I declare the main theme of Patriot Acts
in one key phrase:

No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!

Check Out Steven Clark Bradley's
Free E-Book Offer Here!

You can read more of
Steven Clark Bradley's
work at any of these blogs
listed below:

Author Steven Clark Bradley
From The Mind of Steven Clark Bradley
Steven Clark Bradley @ Inspired Author
Steven Clark Bradley - Nikki Leigh Virtual Book Tours
Steven Clark Bradley @ The Power of The Written Word
Steven Clark Bradley @ Communati.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Blogtalk Radio.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Facebook
Steven Clark Bradley @ Twitter.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Xanga.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Amazon.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ yuku.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Bookmarket.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Published Authors.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Word That Work
Steven Clark Bradley @ Goodreads.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Myspace.com