Dr. Frank Einstein (20 page)

   
       “Take over the courtroom!” demanded Murphy from behind the bar.

   
       “Free Palmer! Free: Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

   
      “Marshals!' ordered the judge.   “Clear the courtroom!”

  
     “Free Palmer! Free: Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

   
      Three lit paper and form a small bonfire which prompted ceiling sprinklers to rain water making everyone miserable.  Puddles started forming on the desks.  Papers files and books were soaked.  People started to jaunt out. The judge pounded his gravel against his bench.  His voice yelling order gargled by the shower of water.

  
      But the militia stayed to stand their ground.  The court's seven United States marshals took out their batons and seized towards the crowd.  The crowd demonstrated their special forces training and disarmed the marshal.

        “Free Palmer! Free: Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

  
       A marshal drove his body towards one that gave him a punch in the Las Vegas nerve:  A strategic punch right below the liver, which neutralized the Marshal's Body function. The Marshal fell to the floor like a sack of wheat.

  
       “Free Palmer! Free Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

   
     Another marshal lunged at a spectator but was cut off from a body blow delivered by a guy from the side.  The marshal slid hard against the bench.

   
     “Free Palmer! Free Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

    
    Another was subjected to an upper cut combo.   He looked at his assailant dazed and plummeted to the floor.

  
      “Free Palmer! Free Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

    
    A fourth marshal was tripped; taken by the neck in half nelson to be immobilized. They dragged him to a seat.  They dropped him with a thud.

      
“Free Palmer! Free Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

    
   The Militia handcuffed the marshals in a cluster then into a group.

   
    “Free Palmer! Free Palmer!  Free Palmer!”

   
    He strolled to the Judge and handcuffed him. “I guess I’m the judge. We the People.  Hey Judge!”  The bald fat judge with bushy eyebrows scowled.

    
  “You look like C. Emmett Welsh and this is a Conon Brother Movie.” he continued laughing.

Then he released Palmer and shackled the assistant United States attorney.

       “Let's go Men!”  He laughed, “We got what we came for!”   The company of fifty men put Palmer in the middle.  They walked out of room A with the seven glock nine that they secured from the marshals.  As they walked away from the courtroom, from behind a marshal was coming out of the restroom.   He had been unaware of the courtroom ambushed that had just occurred, on the account that he had taking his scheduled break. He glanced at the battalions and noticed the glocks.  He quickly jumped into the restroom unnoticed by the militiamen.  He radioed an all point bulletin.

  
“Ambush in Room A.  Many of the Assailants tried to escape.  Repeat Assailants trying to escape!”  He exclaimed in to his shoulder harnessed speaker of his walkie talkie that was clasped to the loop of his white uniform shirt.

    The commandos made it to the Federal Building exit. 

    Blocking the entrance were agents in helmet sand flak jackets.  Blocking it: five agents with machine guns, three with rifles, two with shotguns, and nine with glocks all pointing at commandos with seven pistols.

    “Ah shit!” retorted Murphy; dropping his gun.

           
                                        Chapter thirty one

     Five men, in a two thousand Ford Sport Utility Vehicle, drove in the back hills of Virginia. They were all dressed in military fatigues.  They had a cache of weapons in the aft of the car.  They had been riding for hours. They pulled in a place for gas.  Within the cab the men drooled on tea party rhetoric.

   
  “Let's pay them terrorists' high gas prices.”  Murphy laughed at the wheel.  He opened the door and sauntered to the pump, as a revolver conspicuously hung from his belt.

   
  Palmer, with three others, headed for the convenient store in the station.  Palmer kept looking behind him as a lookout and lagged behind the rest of them.  He continued his duties just inside the door.

 
    “You want somethin'” asked his companion.

   
  “Naw I'm good.” Palmer replied back to him.

  
  They returned to the gassed up car and headed toward their camp.       

 
    Thirty men were conducting various para military maneuvers as the Sport Utility Vehicle arrived in the middle of the camp.  The five men got out of the Sport Utility Vehicle. 

 
    “He's dead.” One of the earlier arrivals greeted them. “Someone just assassinated Justice Washington!  That Black dude on the United States Supreme Court that was conservative.  The NRA voted him the most favorable justice to gun owners that’s on the United States Supreme Court.  Now that Muslim terrorist in the White House is gonna get another Muslim terrorist on the Supreme Court. So they gonna take away our guns and put United States under shar' ia law.”

  
   “The new Justice will vote against us.” replied Palmer “The Court is going now to shifts from the right to the left; with one seat going from one side to the other.  The liberals want the Muslims to take over the country.”

   
  “That's right!”  They yelled in unison. 

    
“We're gonna kill every last Muslim and keep America Christian!” A voice cried out in wilderness.

  
     “Bu' yah!”

       “I tell you; I was there.” said Palmer completely shackled. He was clothed in the orange Fed Jump suit. He netted his brow in a perpetual net. Facing his lawyer in a quiet room in the Federal penitentiary, he said:

      “I don't know why I wasn't on the surveillance tape.  I mean I was the look out so I hung back. Those guys with me will testify.”

   
    “They are unreliable.” responded his attorney; especially after the stunt they and you pulled at the bail hearing!”

   
  “What 'bout the employees at the gas station?”

   
    “They're not sure.  They said there were too many people from the militia going through on that day to remember you.  You did not buy anything.  They want to help you.  But their hesitation worries me.  If the US Attorney picks up on their doubt he will grill them.”

    
   “I DID NOT KILL Washington!!  Shit.  I've been thinking these liberals don't want to change the gun laws. They want to use them to falsely accuse every gun dealers of the causing all the gun violence.   Like saying American gun dealers are selling guns illegally to Mexican drug dealers.”                 

    “Everybody knows Palmer is not the one!” expounded the Oxycontined voice.

    
  “This guy, the real assassin, whoever he is, wants to throw the United States Constitution in the toilet by killing a conservative Judge so to get a liberal judge, on the bench, with an activist agenda?  C'mon people you know I'm right!

     “Here’s what the Commanding State Trooper said right after he examined the fresh crime scene of the assassin’s nest.”

     A recorded voice said.  “We don't think this is someone with the military background. But he has done a lot of research.  There's something well kinda nerdy about this scene.”

     “Hear that people! 
Kinda nerdy. Our beloved president wants to make everything about race.   These guys are brilliant but dangerous.  It has nothing to do about race.  It's about some liberal who didn't like the direction of the country.  The right direction. So he took the coward's way out and killed the black guy who was conservative instead of the white guy that was conservative.  Now, that's really racist.  C'mon people you know I'm right!                  

   
”Y' know where Palmer was when Washington was killed?  Five hundred miles away, in rural Virginia, traveling to a survivalist camp. He rode with four other patriots.  But the fascist Feds don’t want you to know that! Listen to this:”

   
“Yeah we saw him.” A woman voice came over the recording “Mr. Palmer.  And it’s not the first time.  These militiamen stop here often at our gas station.”

     “A
re you sure he was there this time?” says a male reporter's voice “he's not on the surveillance camera.”  “Pretty sure.”

   
“Apparently” continued the fattest man on talk radio, “Pretty sure isn't enough for the US attorney.

      “They plan to grill and fry her.  That's what my source in the Justice department informs me.  They’re gonna railroad Palmer, t
his war hero.  We have in the studio someone who with Palmer the day of the assassination in rural; Virginia.  Joe Debussy.

   
“Welcome Joe”

   
“Great to be here.”

  
“What were you all doing on the day of the assassination?”

   
“It's a day I'll never forget. It was a tragedy! The killing of a great national leader.  But as a result we feel the very Constitution is threatened.

  
  “Anyway Mr. Palmer and I, along with friends, we were traveling to a camp we often go to near Fair fax Virginia.  We were doing training maneuvers.  We trained in the case we need to fight against enemies foreign and domestic when they take over our government.”

     “You are willing to testify to that under oath in court.  That you were with Palmer near Fairfax. “

   
    “Yeah me and fifty others who were there.” 

   
    "Our only purpose is to be there when tyranny overwhelms our government.  I think we’re getting pretty close to where America needs us.  Perhaps the President is a tyrant.  He wants to nullify the militias.  So that's why he blames us for Washington's assassination.'

   
     “Do you think that makes the President a suspect for assassination?”

  
     “Well, if Palmer didn't do it.  Who else could've done it?”

   
     “Well, America. There you have it.  The Washington Assassination Cover up.  Militiamen like Palmer and Debussy are what stand between us and tyranny.  You know I'm right.”

         A United States Marshall bus traveled between a Federal Prison and a Federal court. It approached a rural stoplight.  The light turned green.  A Sport Utility Vehicle slammed in to the bus.  Then four men got out with assault rifles.  From in front and the other side and behind three other SUV released four similar armed men.  Two Marshals jumped out with assault weapons.  The driver was already injured; there were three other Marshals on the bus.  Pop; pop, the m sixteen flashed in rapid succession. The two marshals were overwhelmed –both receiving wounds in the jugular artery--by the twelve assailants; shot dead.  Three assailants entered bus and took metal cutters to all the inmates’ handcuffs.  The inmates escape from the bus.  They scattered in the woods.

           One of them was P
almer.  They took him to the Sport Utility Vehicle. The Sport utility vehicle peeled down the deserted road. They escaped to their hide out. 

                                          Chapter Thirty Two

      Fifty United States Marshals swooped in the same militiamen camp that Palmer had claimed to be at during the Washington’s assassination. Palmer was held up in one its buildings.