Know this, Mr. President, we are coming for you

     Mr. President, 
     Upon accepting my commission, I took an oath to defend this nation against 
all enemies, foreign and domestic. Now, I find I must defend this nation against 
you, sir, an enemy of the domestic variety. No single person has been responsible 
for as many deaths of Americans as you, since Adolf Hitler. 
     So know this, Mr President. We are coming for you. Not just my detachment 
of highly trained men, but Navy SEALs and other Rangers, all trained to move 
into any area on the planet, without being detected, and carry out our mission. 
No one can stop us. Certainly not the gutless wonders you have placed in command.
     Some night you will awaken to fingers around your throat. They will be 
mine. But, I won't kill you. I want the satisfaction of seeing you tried, 
convicted of both treason and murder, and punished as prescribed by the Constitution. 
     Mr. President, as surely as the sun rises, we are coming for you, and 
no one except Almighty God has the ability to stop us. 
     See you soon … when you least expect it. 
     Sleep well. 

     Captain C. 
     US Army Ranger 

     Brock had written more. 
     Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin. 
     That, Mr. President, was the handwriting on the wall. Let me interpret 
it for you. 
     The days of your presidency have been numbered. Your tyrannical reign is coming 
to an end. You have been weighed and found wanting. Your office will soon be given 
to another. 
     At that time, this nation will experience a new birth of freedom. Our allies 
will again trust us, especially Israel, whom you have betrayed. 
     Plans for governing our nation, until a new national election can be held, have 
already been made. 
     My final words today are for the American people. Take heart. Help is on the way. 
The filthy house will be swept clean, and we will start again as one nation, under 
God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. 
     May God bless the United States of America. 

     Your Voice in the Wilderness, 
     Brock Daniels 

     KC swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in her throat. “Post it, Brock.” 
     Brock clicked on the publish button. 
     The blog went live. 
     He looked up at KC. “Now we see who stays with Hannan and who deserts him.” 
     Brock disconnected from the satellite connection, slipped his laptop into its 
case, turned and waved to the pilot, then sat and buckled into the ursa chair. 
     KC took the chair beside his and buckled her seatbelt as the twin engines of 
the Gulfstream 550 whined. “I am so proud of you, Brock.” 
     “Let’s not jump the gun, Kace. Remember Craig’s warning. This could blow up in 
our faces. But we’ve rolled the dice. We’ll see what comes up.”