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The Bonnie Blue Conspiracy: A Cocktail of Plot, Trechery and Killing with a Twist of Foreign Intervention
The Bonnie Blue Conspiracy: A Cocktail of Plot, Trechery and Killing with a Twist of Foreign Intervention
The Bonnie Blue Conspiracy: A Cocktail of Plot, Trechery and Killing with a Twist of Foreign Intervention
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The Bonnie Blue Conspiracy: A Cocktail of Plot, Trechery and Killing with a Twist of Foreign Intervention

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At a time of unprecedented US economic turmoil a fanatical new leader emerges of a secret neo-confederate brotherhood. The President, mired in desperate decision making and worried that his first lady is having an affair, embarks on a mission of radical measures to redress the budget. His proposal is viewed as extreme and contemptible providing the spark the brotherhood's new leader has been waiting for. With riots across a number of cities in the southern states, a plan is hatched with the potential backing of a foreign power to declare secession from the Union. Enter the Vice President whose office was once described as 'not worth a bucket of warm spit' is somewhat detached having his own agenda and ambitions finds himself in the middle of all this and chief focus of attention.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAUK Authors
Release dateSep 7, 2012
ISBN9781782342328
The Bonnie Blue Conspiracy: A Cocktail of Plot, Trechery and Killing with a Twist of Foreign Intervention

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    The Bonnie Blue Conspiracy - Neil Michael O'Mara

    law.

    Prologue

    The startled desk sergeant stared at the distinguished looking but clearly apprehensive gentleman. The thing was this man looked totally credible, the sort of witness any attorney would give their right arm. I’ll take some brief details and then we’ll get a Crime Investigation Officer to take your statement. Howard Turner and his teenage son Chad were ready to give their personal information. Howard gave his occupation as retired airline pilot and Chad was still at school. Both felt like fish out of water as neither had been in the police department before. It wasn’t long before an out of uniform police officer called them through to the office. The police officer had a slightly dishevelled look, a loosened necktie and stubble on his chin but it was getting near the end of his shift. Chad couldn’t stop looking at a spider on the wall behind him.

    Pen in hand the officer said, Okay, I’m Lieutenant Simmons, talk to me gentlemen.

    Howard rubbed his sweaty palms on the front of his pants. I’d taken a shower this afternoon and waited for Chad coming home from school. Chad lost his mother last year so there’s just the two of us these days. I love to fly as much as possible and Chad very often comes with me.

    Slow down Mr Turner, take your time, said Lieutenant Simmons.

    Howard took a deep breath and continued, I’d waited for Chad coming home from school, we had some pizza and I asked him if he wanted to come with me. It’s been a lovely afternoon, we had chatted on the way to the airport.

    "Have you thought anymore about summer camp Chad?"

    Not yet Dad, but I thought if I didn’t go we could spend some time visiting a few more airfields.

    Sure thing son, said Howard.

    Sorry to interrupt you Mr Turner but which airport were you driving to? asked Lieutenant Simmons.

    Oh Jekyll Island, as you will know officer, it’s the local airport for light traffic. I have a share in a single engine Piper Archer. I used to fly into Golden Isles and McKinnon one time but since retirement I like the small places, said Howard.

    Did you go directly to the airport? asked Lieutenant Simmons.

    Yes, we drove to the hanger where I had a conversation with a friend of mine, the co-owner of the plane. I’ve made an entry in my log that we took off at 17:45 and visibility, very good. Do you think I could have some water Lieutenant? asked Howard.

    Lieutenant Simmons went out to the water cooler in the corridor and returned with a couple of cups for Howard and Chad. Chad downed the water instantly but his father took a swallow and kept a drop for later. Howard continued, I climbed to two hundred and fifty feet and headed north towards the bay. In ten minutes or so we were over the bay area. Chad and I were chatting, I looked down out of the window, normally there’re several boats in the bay but for some reason I could only see the one. I guess that one had gotten my attention.

    Just a moment Mr Turner, said Lieutenant Simmons fumbling for a continuation sheet. Carry on.

    Howard took another drink. It all happened so quickly as you can imagine. I saw two men at the back of a powerboat. There was a struggle. There may have been a stabbing because I saw a flash of light as if it was the sun reflecting on steel. Then one of the men pushed the other into the bay. As we flew overhead, I looked behind me, I’m sure the guy was thrashing around in the water. I came around for a second look but I could see from the wash of the boat it was now speeding away. I was unsure of the location where the man was thrown overboard.

    What happened next? asked the Lieutenant.

    We returned to Jekyll Island straight away. We jumped in the car and drove the seven miles here to Mansfield Street Police Department, said Howard.

    You can relax now Mr Turner. I will contact the Port Authority unfortunately we’re not going to get a boat out there until first light. Thanks for being so diligent but lets hope all you saw was innocent horseplay. Take your boy home Mr Turner and we’ll be in touch.

    Chapter One

    "They’re here, they’re here Grandpa".

    Four black, highly polished chauffeur driven limousines breezed down the long approach road. An avenue of trees stood guard, dressed in Spanish moss. At the end of the long road was a large white plantation house somewhere in Wayne County, Georgia. The cars parked in line at the foot of the house steps in a statesman like manner. The afternoon was hot and the only thing missing from this fairy tale setting was Rhet Butler and Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind. At the top of the steps was an elderly gentleman. He was a sure double for KFC’s Colonel Sanders but actually this was none other than Judge George T Culpepper (Retired). He gestured to his two young grandsons go find Bonnie.

    As each of the chauffeurs opened the doors in chorus, four figures appeared. Open arms, the Judge descended the steps saying, welcome gentlemen, welcome. The Judge was smartly attired in a light gray flannel suit, white shirt, with a yellow silk necktie with matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. A real dandy if ever there was one! But there wasn’t one, there were four more dressed exactly the same. There was no doubt they were in uniform. They climbed the steps, one of them needing a cane, Tom, Ged, good to see you again said the Judge, shaking all hands lets go through to the terrace. Ambrose turning to his long time serving butler take the gentlemen’s jackets.

    Yes sir Judge.

    Emerging from the rear of this fine colonial styled house, they were seated at a large round table over looking the garden. Gentlemen I’ve organised shrimps and ice tea, does that suit everyone?

    Yes sir said one.

    Yes siree, said another.

    Now everyone knows Tom and Ged without whose help our Organisation would not be possible explains the Judge, as Flora, Ambrose’s wife serves the shrimps. Tom and Ged’s hierarchy within the Organisation was never in question as they sat and supported each side of the Judge. Pointing to the other two the Judge said, You boys have never met. This of course has been done purposely to protect identities until now. Let me introduce you, Leon James, Cornelius Gray.

    Delighted Sir said Leon

    The pleasure’s all mine sir said Cornelius

    Leon James is an athletic looking man with short brown wavy hair and wire spectacles, sort of studious and he was, for his mission within this Organization to date was to raise funds. This Mississippian is particularly skilful with the New York Stock Exchange. Cornelius Gray on the other hand is gray by name and gray through and through, as we will learn. But this silver haired southern gentleman, in his late fifties cuts a rather small figure of a man injured in a riding accident when his horse bolted. Hence the cane he needs. Cornelius is a newspaperman his family owning a provincial newspaper in Alabama. His task was recruitment.

    After wiping his hands on his napkin that was the signal for Flora to remove his plate full of heads, legs and other shrimp parts. The Judge placed his elbows on the table, something the others would not dare do as he ringed his hands in anticipation. His tenor now changed constantly as the gentlemen are now referred to as boys. Boys, the Brotherhood of the Eleven Stars has reached a new phase. Explained the Judge so far we have been in an organizational phase and I have to say that over the last couple of years this has gone pretty well. We have a membership of several hundred brothers, thanks to Cornelius and as a

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