After Bill bought the country property he’d set about building a home that would be safe. The first step in its design and construction was a review of how bad guys might discover the home’s secrets:
• Fake utility company visits (gas, electricity, telephone)
• Aerial photography
• Driving by
• Ground surveilance photos
• Hiking past
• Plans filed with the county planning department
• Recollections by the building inspector
• Informants
The first step was getting electrical power to the place — instead of depending upon the old diesel generator down in the mine. Bill rented a trenching machine and put in his own below-ground 12,000 volt power lines. He then had these lines connected to a special meter about a mile up the road — where the lines dropped from the electric company’s pole and went underground. The electric company was happy to be rid of such a small-time user of power and glad that they only had to provide what they called “Primary Service.”
Utilities only have the right to service their own lines. By halting them a mile from his house he also halted visitations from federal agents masquerading as utility workers.
To give the entire string of poles a reason to exist — few people needed to know that there was a house down the road — he’d built a square steel box four feet high and painted it dark green and planted it next to the last power pole. It looked like a small pump house for some rancher’s well. The big difference was that it wasn’t a pump house and there was no transformer inside.
The full 12,000 volts from the pole was directed into heavily insulated cable and into the green “pump house” and from there into heavy plastic pipe laid three feet below ground and along the dirt road. The power lines were tunneled into the old mine and then to the house. He’d been able to get a 12,000 volt Navy surplus power transformer and he’d had it checked out by an electric company in Chula Vista — a town wedged between Mexico and the city of San Diego.
The telephone company had also agreed to let him install his own underground lines — so long as the phone company delivered service right to the edge of the property. The telephone company was surprised when their linemen terminated their service line six miles down a dirt road and with nothing around — except that stupid green box. The phone lines were buried on the opposite side of the dirt road from the power lines — but just below the surface.
The Mission Fathers of 1775 depended upon thick adobe walls and defensive quadrangles for protection. Two hundred years of newer technology — offensive and defensive — demanded that the quadrangle concept be greatly enlarged.
Bill had planned the approaches to his house very carefully — and had created several obstacles. All of his defenses were layered. They acted as filters. Someone might get past obstacle number one but not past obstacle number two or number three. Somebody’s surveillance of the property might discover only obstacle number four and no others. The worst thing he could have done — for example — would be to depend upon a single obvious barrier such as a big wall.
The first thing he did was repair the 20 year old barbed-wire fence that ran around the entire property. Then he placed signage every fifty feet along the wire that stated that the property was a private “nature preserve” and that there was no admittance. These signs were in English and Spanish.
The front gate looked like it had a huge disk-type lock and heavy chain fixing it to a foot-thick steel post. In reality, the post was part of the gate itself and was released by lifting a foot-long pin that ran down inside the post’s center and into the ground. The seam was hidden with a collar that was lifted by the pin. Anybody with bolt cutters would have a very hard time getting past the Johnson’s gate. The gate was opened by using a standard garage door opener transmitter that had been tuned 40 MHz off-frequency. The receiver had been buried thirty feet inside the property line with only the coax antenna lead trenched outside the property and then exposed at the side of the road. The antenna had been hidden in a hollowed out bit of dry tree stump at the side of the road.
The transmitter antenna was mounted underneath the Hummer. All the garage door receiver had to do was put 12 volts onto a standard electric sprinkler valve. Bill would hit the transmitter button and then slowly drive to the gate. Thanks to the inherent delay in electric lawn sprinkler valves — any observer would think that Bill had done something right at the gate to make it open.
The gate could also be opened from the house. There was always the possibility that they would have invited guests — maybe for a splash in the pool. Bill had run a separate control line from the kitchen all the way to the sprinkler valve. He’d simply buried it with the telephone cable. He would open the gate at the appointed time and the guests would simply drive onto the property, park their cars and wait for Bill to come get them.
Someday he planned to install a TV camera on the hillside — it was $400 with a good remote control zoom lens and pan/tilt head — a purchase he couldn’t as yet afford. The transmitter operates at 2.6 gigahertz. The receiver converts the signal back to a standard frequency — usually TV channel three or channel four. These cameras are quite sensitive to infra-red. It’s quite easy to illuminate a large area for night time surveillance with cheap ($.14 each in lots of 1,000), tiny infra-red light emitting diodes and yet have the area seem pitch black to the unaided human eye
Electrical power for the gate’s electronics came from round solar cells bolted onto yellow road-shoulder warning posts. The solar cells were on the south facing side of the posts and normal reflectors were mounted on the north facing sides. To all the world these posts looked quite normal. The receiver needed 20 milliamps at 12 volts. The solar cells provided more than enough power to run the receiver and to keep its batteries charged.
Water power for the gate came from an elevated “cattle crossing” fifty feet inside the property. The “cattle crossing” was actually linked to a lever and piston. Driving over the “cattle crossing” with a Hummer put more than 2,000 pounds of pressure into the system with each crossing. This energy was stored in a plastic water reservoir buried beneath the road.
The “cattle crossing” looked to all the world as if it had been made fifty years ago from 4 6 lumber. Even the weight of a man would make the beams flex. In reality, the beams had been hollowed out and fitted over sturdy steel pipe. An uninvited visitor would look for any alternative to driving over what seemed to be dangerous bits of rotten wood.
Bill placed irregular “boulders” of concrete in the center of the dirt road at places where it narrowed or made a quick turn.
He had cast several boulders out of colored (and reinforced) concrete — painted with good quality house paint. The upper portion of the concrete block certainly looked like a boulder. The lower portion was just a length of buried drill pipe.
The “boulders” were all at least three feet long but set with only the upper tip exposed — just high enough to rip into the oil pan, transmission or differential of any vehicle not clearing at least 16 inches at the centerline. He set them in groups of three so that even if the driver tried to swerve one of the boulders another one would hit the underside of his vehicle.
The neat thing about these little road hazards was that Negroes did not own 4wd vehicles and any yahoo who tried to come in here with a regular or stock vehicle would have it destroyed.
The poor white trash who had spent even $10,000 lifting their Toyota or Ford Bronco so that it would look macho — and maybe even clear such obstacles — would have done it in part by using big wide tires — and those vehicles might now be too wide to get past the narrow spots in the road. And that’s if they knew what they were doing and how to drive these narrow roads and even got this far. This defensive measure only kept vehicles wider than a Hummer off his property — but this was simply another layer of his defense.
Bill had made certain that the narrow spots in the road had “rock” on one side and a ten foot drop or more on the other. He had even sloped the trail at the turns so that any vehicle making the turn would be angled over 20 degrees or more toward the outside. Anybody driving one of those “macho machines” with a high center-of-gravity might just whip around a curve in the trail then just tip over and tumble down the hill.
Bill remembered the terrifying days of the Carter Administration — when Castro sent us over 100,000 homosexuals, pedophiles and murderers in the 1980 “Marialito Humanitarian Boat Lift” — pushing gun sales in America up 400% in one month. And then Carter surrendered Somalia, Nicaragua, the Panama Canal, Rhodesia, El Salvador, Afghanistan and Iran to Soviet control. Gold went to almost $1,000 an ounce, silver to $50 and the prime interest rate to 20%.
That Carter’s influence on America remained long after his departure was a modern-day tragedy. Some of Carter’s “Marialitos” raped and murdered innocent Americans for years after their arrival in America. Many just died of drug overdoses or AIDS. Some finally met justice. One was only executed 14 years after his crime of murdering a school teacher.
Bill thought a lot about the situation in America’s government. We’d had a drug addict as president (Grant), philanderers (Kennedy) and Bolsheviks (F.D.R) but Clinton was the first that was all three.
Bill’s family would be safe next time America had a meltdown — and Bill had installed some real surprises for anyone following them to this retreat, this home fortress, during the next real crisis.
At three places in the trail where the road dipped into wide gullies, Bill had installed some concrete boulders with water powered rubber bladders on one end that, when filled, would let the boulders act as “teeter-totters” and tilt their 15,000 pounds of reinforced concrete three feet out of the ground.The trick was to create a boulder that was wider along its top than along the bottom — kinda like a casket. This way there was no crack around the edges of the boulder to give it away — all along its bottom and sides it touched dirt road.
Bill could drive into these hot spots and out again without a problem. But he could also use the little ICOM radio he had purchased at an amateur radio store to send a command to valves attached to his sprinkler system. When those valves opened, water was sent into the rubber bladders and the long arms of concrete would tip upward. With the right leverage, enough water could be sent down a 1” diameter plastic sprinkler pipe at 60 psi to tilt 15,000 pounds of concrete more than three feet into the air in less than one minute. Any vehicle up to a Bradley Fighting Vehicle could be destroyed hitting one of Bill’s little boulders.
To make these “boulders” look convincing even up close, Bill covered a real boulder with layer after layer of liquid Latex and cheesecloth, until he had built up a nice thick rubbery skin of reinforced Latex. On top of this he laid on three layers of fiberglass mat and resin. The fiberglass and resin shell had to be built in four separate pieces that bolted together so that he could remove it after casting each “boulder.” The fiberglass was easily separated from the Latex and the Latex peeled off the boulder in one huge sheet.
He then cast duplicates of the original boulder by laying the Latex skin in the fiberglass shell and slapping in a half-inch-thick layer of concrete. He did not trowel the concrete into the mold because the sideways motion would then let the concrete slide out of the fine details he had spent so much time molding into the Latex. It was an art form but all he did was put on rubber gloves and throw fists-full of mortar mix into the mold. As an added touch he made the mortar mix using sand from the planned installation site of the new boulder. This allowed a slightly better color match. This thin mixture would jam into the crevices and tiny pits and when the Latex mold was removed the concrete surface would look just like the original stone. This concrete shell was then reinforced with a bit more concrete and some chicken wire and then carried to its site. Only there did he fill it solid with concrete, re-bar and drill pipe and roll it over and drop it down into the hole. The water bucket and boulder were separated on a ten foot long drill pipe arm. The fulcrum was just at the rear of the boulder itself. It took less than five gallons of water to change the balance of the arm and raise the boulder. Once it was safely “teetering” in its hole Bill painted it to match the road.
The last part of Bill’s plan was his selection of the size of the pipes and the counterweights. Bill wanted this whole system to last a hundred years. While that might seem to be a long time — it really wasn’t. Bill did some research and found that artillery shells from the Franco-Prussian war of 1870 were still being dug up in France — and still very dangerous. He used drill pipe with thick walls. He also made certain that anything that might rust would drip its rust stains downward and that these stains could never become visible from the surface. Nothing was going to give away his little secrets.
Bill was also worried about off-road vehicles crashing through the chaparral at the north side of the property. He ran through a list of the vehicles that might be able to make it up the north-facing side of his northern hills. Then he estimated the weight of each and its maximum speed over this terrain. Then he computed the kinetic energy of each vehicle. This told him how strong to make his northern defenses.
Bill planted what looked like an abandoned vineyard and orchard, with grape vines, apple trees and an automatic watering system as well as dozens of thick stumps interspersed among the trees and vines. The “stumps” were made of concrete-covered drill pipe planted five feet into the earth. At each end of a line of vines Bill planted “posts” to support the wires. These “posts” were actually drill pipe covered in a thin wooden shell. The black tubes of the automatic watering system — or drip irrigation — had a 3/4” steel cable running down their insides which was terminated inside the drill pipe “posts” at each end of a line of vines.
A vehicle would have to weigh more than 20,000 pounds and be going over 30 miles an hour to pop any of the “stumps” out of the ground and even then it would be stopped by one of the steel cables.
Bill had taken these “natural” barrier-design ideas from the San Diego Zoo. What these obstacles did was channel any approach from the north through “kill zones” of Bill’s choosing. The “vineyard” would stop anything up to a light tank.
And there was more.
The hills around the house were scattered with what seemed to be dry chaparral. In reality much of this dry, burned, gray colored, chest-high growth was steel rods that were secured in three-foot-deep concrete-filled holes. To all the world this brush seemed to be just a maze of dead stumps and branches. In reality it was a maze of nearly impenetrable steel.
Each piece of steel “bush” had been heavily coated with canned spray-on zinc and then coated with thick epoxy paint. Over this base he had added “natural colors.” It had taken him some time and real practice to get the coloring right. He wound up using regular kitchen spray bottles filled with thinned exterior house paint — in several dusty gray colors. He also performed this “house paint camouflage” process with the concrete covered vineyard “stumps” as well as the boulders.
To put the odds completely in his favor he’d created killing zones on the eastern and the western hillsides. If someone really wanted to get him they would only have to trot down either hillside to reach the gravel parking area at the front of the house.
Because there was always some slight chance that an innocent hiker might get this far — possibly in search of water — Bill had created harmless booby-traps. They were so innocuous that someone passing through during the day might not even notice that a booby-trap had gone off! They might only think that it was starting to rain or that a high flying bird had crapped on them.
But Bill was not worried that much about visitors during daylight hours. It was the “moon-crickets” that bothered him. “Moon-crickets” would die.
These hillsides had been booby-trapped with chemiluminscent mines. Each hillside was covered in a web of piano-wire triggers. Stepping on or tripping over a trigger would pull the pin on a buried CO2 cartridge and spray out the contents of six large Cyalume glowsticks. He got the CO2 cartridge holders and valves from old emergency lifejackets. The contents of the glowsticks had been carefully poured into assemblies that consisted of two short parallel lengths of plastic water pipe. One pipe contained the chemiluminescent liquid and the other contained the activator which is normally inside a breakable glass vial inside the glowstick. Inside each pipe was a piston. The piston consisted of a two inch thick plug of wax. The piston ends of the pipes were connected with a “Tee” and then to the CO2 assembly. The nozzle was just a lawn sprinkler spray head. The spray head was sealed with a quick daub of wax. When the CO2 cartridge was fired it forced the wax pistons forward and the liquids to mix and then to spray out as a fine mist. Each mine covered 200 square feet of hillside.
Bill could have packed the chemiluminescent liquid into wax coated tubes and used a load of Bullseye pistol powder to blast the liquid onto the target. The big problem with this approach is that it would be noisy and a federal crime. Bill decided that it was best to stay quiet and legal — at least so long as there could be witnesses who might cause trouble later.
He had installed ten of these mines on each hill — and each had a fan of trip wires coming from it. Some of the trip wires were laid just above buried plastic milk jugs so that a footstep would always pop a wire. Any human who set off a mine would glow for six hours or more. This made such people quite easy to shoot. At night these bastards would run around and around trying to wipe the stuff off and only spread it over themselves even more. The stuff was so bright that looking at somebody coated with this stuff — or even your own arm — could destroy your night vision! With no night vision these people would be stumbling into bushes and even falling down the hillside. Bill tried it on himself and discovered that he could read a newspaper by the glow from his hands. He could have used super-bright sticks with a two hour life but thought that might be not enough time to track someone down and kill them if he had to.
To defend his home Bill had taken cues from every possible source. The fence around the back of the house was only five feet high but it was installed at a 45 degree angle and mid-way up the side of the hill. It was layered with three coils of razor ribbon. From the road, the driveway and the house this fence line was absolutely invisible. He had taken scrap Cyclone chain-link fencing and buried it flat along the back side of his fence. Anybody trying to crawl under his fence would have a long way to dig.
The last exterior defense system was secretly electric. At the south edge of the patio’s concrete slab Bill had installed what seemed to be simple six foot high vertical steel posts spaced five inches apart. Every other one was mounted in the concrete slab inside a piece of thick black ABS pipe filled with thick silicone rubber sealant. These insulated vertical posts were connected together and insulated to more than 12,000 volts. The remaining posts were grounded to the earth. Running along the top of the posts Bill had installed miniature decorative glow-lights wrapped around a triple strand of barbed wire. The fence offered an impression of some kind of a “Disneyland Pirates of the Caribbean ivy covered architectural treatment” instead of a cut-you-to-the-bone last line of security.
The essential design elements for construction of the home itself were secrecy and security. Bill knew that the longer the interior of the building was under construction — and exposed to view — the more people would be attracted to it and its inner secrets. Also, the more English speakers who saw it the better the chances that somebody would report it to the county’s building code department. Then too, the feds’ first stop might be a county planning department to get copies of the floor plan of the home.
Bill had applied for and received county permits to build a house — just not the house he finally built. Local governments were strapped for cash and thanks to tax payer rebellions they could only suck about one third as much property tax from California residents as did some other states. California made up for it in permits and fees. You could easily pay $30,000 in just permits and fees to build a single family house in San Diego. You could pay as much as $26,000 in fees just to add a bathroom.
Local building inspectors could look at the plans and permits and compare them to the building site and plainly see that this family was building a “green” — or environmentally benign — home. What they didn’t know was that as soon as they all left then certain “closets” became bathrooms and interior walls were installed where none had been before. The rearrangement of hallways and doors was given very special attention. Anybody looking at the drawings Bill had submitted to the County — to plan a government raid or other uninvited activity — would be fatally disappointed with their accuracy.
The next thing Bill did was bulldoze the original home and dig a doughnut-shaped trench for the new home’s footing. The footing was eight feet wide and a foot and a half thick. The foundation wall was four feet thick and attached to the footing well below the frost line.
He then tamped the area for the floor, added pea gravel and double plastic sheeting and then poured a foot-thick reinforced concrete slab centered over the old mine entrance.
He then brought in two truck loads of two-inch-thick panels of insulating foam. The foam came in four-by-eight foot sheets. Bill stacked and glued three panels together like a stack of pancakes with the center panel shifted down twelve inches along the narrow side and over twelve inches on the wide side. This converted the three panel set into a tongue and groove section. He then constructed a rigid form from these sets of panels for pouring the concrete outer-walls of the house. The inner and outer sets of tongue and groove panels were spaced three feet apart. The panels were held in together with eighth-inch-thick stainless steel wire. The wire was placed to keep the foam sections together and it was also in an “X” configuration to keep the foam from shifting up or down and out of alignment. He tied some of the steel wire to re-bar sticking out of the footing to make certain the walls would not shift out of position while being filled with concrete.
Thanks to the foam panels anyone looking at the building from the edge of the fenced property line would see what seemed to be a normal home under construction. Bill quickly built a roof for the home from these same layered sets of foam panels. The panels were extremely strong and light weight. He was able to rough out the exterior roof line quite easily in one weekend.
The metal foil covered foam walls and roof were extremely important because they quickly hid the interior construction efforts and secrets from any but the most intrusive surveilance. Government agencies would have no cause to spend big bucks — or take risks — seeing what he was doing. There was nothing he had ever done to warrant such actions. Later they might do a house-to-house survey of the neighbors to glean the most minute bits of information. The neighbors would have seen nothing untoward and — thanks to the fact that he fortified the property from the extremities toward the center — neighbors would never have had a close-up view of the construction process.
In addition, building materials could be stored within the home’s shell — not out where they could be seen by the inquisitive.
To all the world he now had a house.
He then used the exterior of this rigid foam structure as a framework and covered it with steel mesh and stucco. Once the steel mesh and stucco were up he had a hard exterior shell. This stucco shell he then covered with a foot-thick facia of large river stones.
Bill had built a small kiln and fired it using wood scrap from the old house and brush that he cleared from the property. Each of the large river stones had been heated to 900 degrees in the kiln. While still warm to the touch each stone had then been coated and sealed with clear epoxy. Each of these basalt or granite stones was now about nine times stronger than an untreated stone. It was almost like heat treating steel.
The kiln needed air. He’d purchased a used gasoline-powered leaf blower at a swap meet and connected it to the kiln. The leaf blower would run for 30 minutes on one small tank of gas — more than enough time to turn brush and old farm house into ash and heat the kiln to well over 1200 degrees.
The kiln had one interesting feature. Bill had buried five barbecue sized propane tanks nearby and had run pipes to the kiln’s interior. All gas connections had been coated with epoxy putty and the tanks had been wrapped in plastic sheeting and duct taped water-tight. The tanks would hold their pressure for 20 years or more.
Should it ever be necessary he could stuff all sorts of incriminating evidence inside the kiln and torch it off. Thanks to the air blast from the leaf blower — and the propane boost — nothing but slag would remain. Computers, disks, listings — even guns — would turn to non-evidence in the forced-air fired kiln.
Once installed on the side of the house, the kiln-fired stones were then covered with a final exterior layer of polymerized stucco — the stuff won’t crack, lasts thirty years and never needs painting. Some areas of river stone were left exposed to give the house an “old Spanish” look. The place actually looked like it had been built about 1830.
One of the neighbors was a general contractor who had helped the prior owner reinforce some of the tourmaline mine’s diggings. The guy knew too much and also was a big gossip. To stop rumors about mine shafts from continuing to circulate, Bill told the contractor that he was sealing the mine solid. To help convince the guy that this was true he even had him help pour concrete into one of the shafts. What Bill really did was use the concrete to reinforce the shafts and to create a set of rooms larger than the actual house. He even turned one of the shafts into a 100 yard rifle range.
It took $45,000 but Bill packed 1,800 cubic yards of concrete into the building. To make the job easier, he had rented a portable concrete plant used for commercial and some freeway construction projects. Rather than use reinforcing bar Bill had used chopped wire reinforcement. This was harder to use than re-bar but nobody got a chance to see tons of steel reinforcement laying around the building site for months on end. People just thought he’d got a good deal on some government surplus nails.
The concrete was quickly — but carefully — pumped between the foam panels — creating exterior walls three feet thick. The big trick was correct usage of the vibrator to get rid of air pockets — too much vibration and the concrete’s reinforcement would fall to the bottom — too little and you had an air pocket.
The place was built. In fact, it had about as much concrete in it as Hitler’s St. Marcouf Naval Battery on the East Coast of France’s Cherbourg Peninsula. And that place had been built during World War Two to repel an allied landing. The St. Marcouf Battery had had three officers, seven NCO’s and 287 enlisted men. Bill’s house was built for a family of four. As much as we have been told about the D-day invasion few know that these concrete bunkers survived all of the allied shelling. None were ever perforated by a single shell. The St. Marcouf battery was so robust that it had to be bypassed and only surrendered four days after the landings.
Bill’s only security risk was the concrete pumper and its two man crew. What he had done was investigate several companies and found one “Christian” company. He was far more interested in their lack of a criminal record than their religion. If the crew were ever to get into trouble they would quickly turn over everybody and everything they knew to get their sentence reduced. Some druggy type might tell the DEA that the house was a drug warehouse. The “Christian” crew might not believe his story about a “Green” and environmentally neutral home but they sure would have little cause to turn him over to the IRS, DEA, BATF, or FBI.
In a three-day flurry of activity all of the walls were filled and then those workers were gone forever.
Once the outside walls were in place he started work inside the house and made two sets of concrete forms right on the floor slab. Each form took the shape of a long beam. He then poured the second story floor segments and the roof segments — all more than a foot thick. The roof segments were made of solid reinforced concrete. The floor segments were made with cheap foam-filled paper buckets cast into them. This made each long arch segment like an honeycomb and much easier to lift into position. Because only four segments could be poured in a weekend he cheated and used lengths of 1” re-bar as reinforcement instead of chopped wire. He could hide these small amounts of re-bar inside the house and away from prying eyes.
He would first jack a second story floor segment off the ground floor slab and put it into place. Then he used the second story beam to help him slowly get the roof segment off the floor and tilted into place. After all the roof segments were in place he was able to drop the foam roof right onto the solid concrete slab beams and then trim off the excess foam hanging over the roof’s edge.
Bill’s big problem was keeping the concrete cool while it was being poured. The concrete had to stay at under 55 degrees. To do this Bill made certain that he was ready to pour the concrete at the coldest part of the year. The other big problem he had was keeping the concrete moist while it cured. He took special care to keep water floating on the top of the forms.
After pouring second story and roof segments on the ground he let them cure until the next weekend — covered in wet rags. Only after a test block — made of the same concrete as the segment — passed a compression test did he then lift it into place. He was not about to take any chances.
He’d put the needed utility access holes in the second story floor segments before the concrete fully hardened. This saved immense amounts of time later.
The interior walls were very special and he waited until he could secure the exterior doors and windows before he even started on the interior. Each interior wall was built of cast concrete reinforced with steel bars. These solid walls were usually only four feet high. The top portion of each wall — to the ceiling — was filled only with rigid insulating foam. Some parts of other walls were built of concrete poured on the floor and then tilted up into place. These segments reached to the ceiling — and they had firing holes. These firing holes also had observation ports sometimes above and sometimes to the side. The exterior surfaces of all of these walls were made of double layers of 3/4” dry wall and looked quite normal. The firing holes were constructed of six inch diameter PVC pipe. These firing holes were covered with fiberglass joint tape and then slathered over with joint compound. Viewing ports were created from standard front door type viewers — but offset to the side using two mirrors to create a side-looking periscope. The viewing ports were built into modular assemblies of four inch PVC pipe so that they could be covered over with concrete. The openings were later covered with two way mirrors, fake air vents, and framed see-through photos.
The building inspector never saw any of this. All he saw was a home that had steel studs instead of two-by-fours and all the wiring encased in conduit. Bill told the guy that he was afraid of an electrical fire — being so far out in the country — and that the extra expense and work needed to put in conduit were just cheap insurance.
Some walls had water and drain pipes going through them. After the inspector left — and Bill moved them to their real locations — he wrapped the pipes with plastic sheeting. Water and drain pipes vibrate and it’s a good idea to keep them away from something as abrasive as solid concrete.
After the final inspection Bill doubled-up on the studs — so that the walls were twice as thick. He then tack-welded floor-to-ceiling sections of wire mesh between the studs and then screwed on double layers of 4 × 8 foot drywall. The drywall was attached horizontally and he used spray cans of insulating foam to seal any openings in the walls. Then he poured concrete into each pocket created by the steel studs and the sheets of dry wall. The slurry poured between the walls was a mixture of Portland and Gypsum cement and it set hard in twenty minutes. The firing ports and observation periscopes were only installed in full-height concrete filled walls.
Even with almost two inches of drywall on each side to hold back the wet mix Bill was worried that the wall might “blow out” and dump a real mess all over the floor. By using a quick setting mix he could pour a bit here and there and layer the concrete without risking popping the drywall screws and dumping the concrete. He stuck lots of short lengths of re-bar into the wet concrete as extra reinforcement. All empty spaces in the upper parts of these walls were then filled with sheets of foam left over from building the exterior. The floor-to-ceiling double layers of wire mesh was an inexpensive way to reinforce the lower concrete filled sections of the walls and to even stop grenades if the drywall and foam were ever torn away from the upper sections.
If anyone tried to assault the interior of this home they would be in very serious trouble. The scum might crouch down or hold themselves against the edges of doorways and think that they were safe — when in fact they may have actually walked into a death trap. Bullets go through dry wall as if it wasn’t there. The residents knew where to stand or crouch and how low they must crouch to be safe. If you wanted to kill an intruder hiding behind a doorway or around a corner just aim and shoot about a foot above a light switch — the bastard was probably standing in the little kill zone on the other side of the wall.
These “kill zones” were later enhanced by the careful placement of furniture in the completed home. Humans have an instinctive urge to get close to walls and to hide behind things. By strategic placement of bookcases and various decorator pieces an intruder would have an overwhelming urge to move himself to a “safe haven” in the room. Unfortunately for him these were places where a shotgun blast would most easily perforate the wall — and the intruder.
Federal attackers are usually trained to look to the front and to the rear for danger. They often bring some kind of solid ballistic shield with them and keep it between themselves and the potential danger to the front. They are also taught to remember the last safe place they saw behind them and to return there when in trouble. After a while this training becomes automatic — reflexive — and in Bill’s house such training would also be suicidal.
Bill thought that these interior security features could be installed on the first floor of almost any house so long as it had been built on a concrete slab. In fact, doing it to an older home offered less risk — it had already been inspected. The simple way to do it would be to use concrete blocks — buy a few every week and take them home in the trunk of the car and nobody would suspect a thing.
Doors were the next security problem. Each interior door was purposely of the hollow core variety. Bullets — or worse — were allowed to go right through. Above each door Bill installed a rolled-up net made of 1/16th-inch diameter steel cables.
The cable net was made from surplus aircraft cable and each “tie” was just a brass crimp. The net was painted flat black. At the top it was attached to a half- inch-thick slab of soft rubber sheeting which was then secured with bolts set deep into the concrete ceiling. Thanks to the rubber the netting would “adjust” to any tension put on it. No one cable would take all of the strain. The rubber would stretch and balance the load automatically. At the bottom of the doorway Bill had placed a spring loaded trapdoor that was the full width of the hallway.
When needed, the netting could be pulled down and latched in the trapdoor. If somebody tried to smash through the door they would just bounce off. If they tried shooting the door it would come apart in almost harmless chunks. If they even tried a grenade or explosive charge all they would do is blast bits of thin wood veneer and cardboard door-core all over the place. To actually get into the room they would have to cut that net apart one little cable at a time. Lastly, if they didn’t see the net and just tried to run down the hall the cable was thin enough that it might just slice off a body part or two. Night vision goggles could not resolve the netting until the wearer was less than two feet away.
To this fortress Bill added what looked to all the world like a tile roof. In reality this “tile roof” was made from drilling-rig pipe split lengthwise. The pipe was first laid in long side-by-side strips — with the inside surfaces facing up — and sloping down the roof. He then laid a layer of the split pipe facing down — with this new layer covering the gaps between the rows of pipe below. These pieces of pipe were then welded together and epoxy painted to offer a red tile color and while they were still tacky they were dusted with finely crushed clay roof tile to add natural looking texture.
All of this pipe had been laid down on top of thick rubber sheeting which had been laid directly on the foam insulation. The foam compressed only about an inch. The heat of the welding operation was quickly absorbed by the mass of the pipe and the rubber sheeting stayed cool.
He’d cut the drill pipe down its entire length using a burning bar — which was nothing more than a piece of one half inch pipe with a piece of large diameter steel cable pushed through it. He connected one end of the pipe to a hose connected to an oxygen tank. The other end was packed with a bit of regular steel wool.
When the steel wool was ignited with a kitchen match and the oxygen tank valve opened the steel cable in the middle of the pipe would burn — hotter than an oxy-acetylene torch. All Bill had to do was keep the steel cable slowly feeding out of the pipe and he could actually burn through hardened steel drill pipe as easily as if it was lead.
He had then made what looked like regular Spanish tiles out of concrete. They were six inches wide and eighteen inches long — with one end a bit wider than the other. They were made a full one inch thick.
These tiles had been made from ferro-cement — essentially just twenty layers of chicken wire cut to shape and then coated with an inch of high-strength concrete. His “how-to” book was in the public library under “ferro-cement.” He’d made twenty little wooden presses which allowed him to lay in the chicken wire and then slather on the mortar. By pressing down on the handle he could mush the concrete and wire together and form it all at the same time. It looked like he had twenty waffle irons all laid out on a long table. He’d cut the patterns of chicken wire — twenty layers at a time — with a worm-drive Skill saw. The interiors of the wooden forms were coated with epoxy resin so the “tile” would pop out easily after it set.
These “roof tiles” were layered on the roof more densely than fish scales and each had a steel post sticking out of it so that it could be welded into place.
First, the “valleys” were layered with tiles — starting at the bottom edge of the roof. Then, the “peaks” were covered.
Hiding the joints and welded posts was easy. Real Spanish tile roofs were built in several layers and stuck together with huge globs of mortar. By placing the tiles as sloppily as if he was drunk on Tequila the roof took on a really “native” look.
The roof had eaves made of four-inch-thick cast concrete — supported by what looked like wooden beams. These beams were really only three feet long and bolted deep into the exterior walls. They too were made of cast concrete. The whole assembly was painted to look just like dark stained wood. Bill had made one segment of eave and exterior beam from sandblasted wood — so the wood grain would stand out. He then made a latex mold and covered that with two part fiberglass mold. He then was able to make the eave and beam assemblies quickly — and about the time he had finished lifting and bolting one to the wall the next was hard enough to pull from the mold.
Bill had added all of this level of protection to the roof because one of the “Secrets of Waco” was the fact that the helicopters supporting the attacks at Waco had machine gunned the compound’s buildings. There were many in the intelligence community who believed that the compound was burned to the ground to keep this helicopter assault a secret. British television cameras — aided by starlight image intensifiers — had picked up what looked like a “star field” when they imaged the compound’s buildings at night. This “star field” was simply light leaking out of the buildings through thousands of bullet holes in the building’s roofs. Only helicopters could have machine gunned Waco’s roofs and created these “thousand points of light.”
Bill’s three foot thick reinforced concrete walls would have to be enough.
To keep questions to a minimum during construction he had placed large “recycle” and “green” placards near the road and told everyone that this was a low-energy / environmentally benign “home of tomorrow.”
He also spread the word that he’d used a “rammed earth design from Sedona, Arizona.” To make the whole thing more convincing he even had an open house and had invited some Shamans from the local Indian reservation to “bless” the property. He took the precaution of taking them all to a local beer bar and getting them completely swacked before the ceremony was started.
When building a “rammed earth” home there is a requirement for a slight amount of concrete to hold the dirt together well enough to meet building codes. So long as nobody knew how much concrete he had mixed with the sand they could never determine how strong the walls of this place really were.
Fire was a major problem here in the mountains. Illegal aliens set large fires as diversions, to cover their tracks and to mask their crimes. Most residential fires in San Diego’s mountains were caused by illegals trying to hide a burglary or even a murder.
Bill created three fire zones around his house. Zone one covered the area within ten feet of the house itself. Here he planted only succulent ground covers and flowers. The zone was carpeted with pop-up sprinklers — one for every 20 square feet of ground. Zone two covered the perimeter of the house to 30 feet. Here he used grass as the ground cover — with one pop-up sprinkler for every 50 square feet of ground. Zone three covered the cleared area out to 200 feet from the house — with one pop-up sprinkler for every 150 square feet of ground.
Bill had placed two septic tanks high on the side of the hill. One tank was filled with well water and gray water from the kitchen sink and showers. The tank was plumbed with a single six inch plastic line which terminated in a manifold by the house. A small pump in the basement pumped water up to the tank over the same line later used to drain the tank. The sprinklers could be activated through seven large electric valves. This system was used not only to water the shrubs but also as an emergency water source in case a brush fire approached the home.
The other tank was filled with a mixture of gasoline and used oil. Should it become necessary, Bill could flood the area around the house with enough gasoline and used oil to stop any ground assault. He had installed electric squibs at more than fifty sprinkler heads. By firing the squibs in a precise order he could send the blast toward any point on the compass. He could also save a few squibs and re-torch the area several times if needed. Of course, this would also kill every shrub or plant near the house.
This fuel tank was connected to the same manifold as the gray-water supply tank. The difference was that two six inch lines were used for the gasoline / oil tank while the water tank had but one six inch line. In addition, Bill had used air-driven valves for this system. The valves were driven by gas from two CO2 fire extinguisher tanks inside the house. The tank’s triggers were connected to a lanyard — and if the lanyard was pulled hard the valves would snap open. Releasing the lanyard would let the pressure drop and the valves would close.
While the sprinkler heads used for this cataclysm-generator were all made of plastic they held together quite well. The actual nozzle was made of brass and the ground acted as a heat sink so the sprinkler heads stayed below their melting point.
Drinking water was stored in a fiberglass tank in the attic. The minimized the risk of someone poisoning the family’s water supply.
Bill had cleared all chaparral from around the house for a distance of three hundred yards. The chaparral was simply pushed through a wood chipper and spread back over the ground. This kept the weeds down and acted as mulch to help the plants survive the hot, dry summers.
When he first started building the place he’d lost tools, building materials and even a cement mixer to thieves. He thought of the situation as something right out of the old Star Wars movies — he would leave things out at night and the “sand people” would steal them before morning. Because he couldn’t call out the Empire’s Storm Troopers he had to think of other ways of exterminating this vermin.
At first he had thought that the best plan was to simply make his home less inviting to burglars than the neighbor’s home five miles away. He’d even gone so far as to glue a huge poster with easy to follow “how to burglarize my neighbor” instructions on his own back door. And yes, the instructions were in Spanish.
But he soon realized that his house seemed to be right on some northern migration route — “ant trail” was the best description — and these people were not interested in going miles out of their way to rob somebody else’s house.
So, these criminals would come again and again and again — and each time they were even more destructive. His next plan was to make his home impenetrable so that it would take these bastards — with common tools — at least four hours to break into his house.
Then he realized that his best approach should include parts of both plans. He would finish making his home a fortress but he would also offer the thieves someplace other than his house — someplace where he wanted them to break in — and in less than a minute — so they wouldn’t get impatient — and then they would leave his house alone.
What he did was build a garden shed. The shed contained some tools, a MIG welder, a large steel chest containing cookies, some old clothes, and about ten dollars in change.
The cookies in the chest were really quite special.
He had gone to the university library. He had asked nobody for anything. He had pretended to be interested in every stack he came to so that people would leave him alone. After an hour he had found what he was looking for:
“The Distribution of Spores of CI. Botulinum in California,” by K.F. Meyer, Journal of Infectious Diseases, Vol. 31, page 541.
Before he even touched the book he discreetly took rubber “finger cots” from a plastic bag in his pocket and put them on the thumb and first and second fingers of each hand. He did this by “spearing” each finger cot with a finger. He did not grab one and slip it on. He wanted no trace of his DNA to find its way to the pages of these books. He also kept the book at eye level and at arm’s length — so that none of his hair, dandruff, or even clothing lint could drop onto the pages and into the creases of the book. The feds had a habit of “monitoring” these materials.
Bill used various methods to record the data he needed. The first was making an audio recording of the information into a miniature tape recorder he carried with him — a $50 solution. The second was photographing the pages using a small full-frame 35mm camera. A camera was the easiest and fastest way to collect this data.
The camera had been selected for its small size and its ability to focus on objects 18 inches away. Bill did not use the flash. He did use Polaroid slide film to record the images. This film is not very forgiving and exposures had to be exact. The good thing about photographing something in a library is that the light level is set by the brightness of the library’s fluorescent fixtures and is therefore the same — day in and day out. The slide film was quickly developed at home in a small Polaroid developing machine — really just a set of rollers which squeezed the Polaroid developer over the entire length of film. The camera and the developing machine cost him $250.00. The film was $20.00 a roll for 36 exposures. This film is the medium of choice for medical doctors who want to record their handiwork and yet not have the local 20 minute photo shop involved in the process.
Bill had wanted to use a digital camera but he would have had to get six inches away and take four overlapping images of each printed page to later read the type. Then too, really good digital cameras were still about $500. As soon as they got a bit cheaper he might use a digital camera — it would be much easier if he could.
Making copies of a book’s pages using the library’s copier is a big mistake. First, the authorities will often make subtle marks on the copier’s glass plate so that if they later find you then they can figure out where you got the information you filed away in your three-ring binders. They also have the ability to install a custom lens in the copier. This lens imparts an undetectably faint and completely random but traceable pattern on the copy. This faint pattern can be quickly detected by scanning the copy’s image and then comparing the faint pattern — if one is detected — against all patterns in their pattern archive.
The feds have also made private copies of every image from certain copy machines. In the early days they did this by installing a small 8mm film recorder inside the copier and developing the roll once a month. They did this for many years — their first victims were Soviet Embassies! Some of their newer secret “copy-of-your-copy” systems are digital. With a high resolution digital record they can later — and automatically — scan the resultant digital images using a simple $300 PC character recognition software package and then search the resultant text files using any word processor — looking for a host of key words like poison, bomb, death, kill — or certainly — plutonium, anthrax, etc. A copier with its own telephone line certainly should be avoided!
The feds can also capture an image of your face as you first lift the copier lid to place a book onto the copier’s glass plate. Someone who lifts the lid and then changes his mind about making a copy peaks their interest. Even if they don’t make a record of your face right then they can estimate the time you visited the library and then search the library’s security cameras to find you — and then the library’s exterior security cameras to find your car and its license plate and thereby know where you live. The tapes are kept for years.
They also maintain files on the kinds of paper certain library copiers use. They will even go so far as provide a library with special paper. Some of these special papers are very good at recording not just the image but your finger prints as well. Other papers have a known watermark. Mailing a copy of something you copied to someone else can thusly become a fatal faux pas.
Lastly, library reference book request slips are a veritable El Dorado of fingerprint and DNA data — no matter what name and address you put on the form.
We must remember that these fellows (there are few women) have very little to do. There are essentially no terrorists in the U.S. The feds are like full-time firemen in a town with no fires. To earn their pay, promotions and pensions they must remain busy doing something and watching you is how they stay on the government dole. And arrest is the key word to their success.
These federal agencies can easily detect dust particles from our clothing which we may have carried to the scene from the interior confines of our home.
They can identify us from the dried saliva taken from the surface of a book’s pages. Licking your finger to help you turn a page can thus prove to be fatal.
In one instance, the DNA evidence from dried saliva taken from a cigarette butt tossed to the ground at an observation point two miles from the scene of a bombing was sufficient evidence to convict.
Before Bill started work on his project he had to accept the gravity of his situation. Under Title 18, Section 175 even the possession of a copy of a page from a book could be construed as a felony. The law is clear — “Conspiracy to Possess” might be construed as any effort to even research or have any knowledge of these matters. Even just the vocalization to a witness (FBI informant) of any interest in these matters may be sufficient to prove your part in a conspiracy to possess such information — even though as yet you don’t have any! That’s right, because you are making the effort to someday possess this information you can be prosecuted. You could be sent up the river for years.
In “The Distribution of Spores of CI. Botulinum in California,” Bill discovered that most of the United States was home to two forms of the most poisonous bacteria on earth. These bacteria created Botulinum toxin. One thousandth of a gram would kill any human.
He copied down the recipes for preparing various dosage levels or “research samples” of the toxin. He then bought some small zipper freezer bags and some cheap tennis shoes two sized too big (and of a style that he would never otherwise wear). He then filled the empty toe space of each shoe with lead shot. When he walked the foot impression in soft earth was close to normal. He then went on an expedition. He drove into San Diego’s Cuyamaca Rancho State Park and walked several miles down the trail toward Cuyamaca peak and then marched deep into the trees. He laid a trash bag on the ground to kneel on and then took a small spade and dug a hole six inches deep. He then removed a plastic bag from his pocket and flipped it inside out and then — using the bag as a glove — scraped up a handful of dirt into the bag and then flipped the bag right side out. He now had a dirt sample that had not been contaminated by any material from any other area he had visited. He numbered the bag and put that number on his U.S. Geological Survey map at the exact spot where he had collected the sample. He repeated these activities all over the park until he had thirty little bags. He then placed all of the small bags into a larger — and doubled — trash bag — so that no soil traces would spill in his car.
Before entering his car for the trip home he sat in the driver’s seat — with his feet still outside the car — and changed his shoes and socks. He then very carefully put the soiled shoes and socks in a trash bag. He then removed the lead shot bags from the shoes but left them in the bag. He later threw the trash bag away at a popular drive-through restaurant in San Diego. He could have washed the underside of his car as well but since he sometimes did walk around this park with his wife and children there was no reason to take the effort to this extreme — and besides, the parking area was covered in gravel.
He vacuumed his car and the bottoms of his trousers three times as soon as he got home and before he went inside the house. He used a standard wet/dry vacuum, but he had modified it by placing a large plastic garden clippings bag inside to catch the vacuumed debris, by placing double automotive air filters around the vacuum’s interior motor housing and by connecting two SEARS’ BIONAIRE replacement air filters on the vacuum’s exhaust port. Vacuums have a bad habit of spewing tiny particles of whatever they’ve sucked in right back out their exhaust.
The last thing he did was gently hose down the area around his car with a garden hose attached to a lawn fertilizer sprayer filled with pool chlorine crystals. By gently spraying the area he did not blast particles into the air and risk disbursing them. He then covered the now chlorine-soaked area with plastic sheeting and let the chlorine sterilize the ground for 24 hours — to make certain any biology in the area was destroyed.
There are seven strains of bacteria known to create Botulinum poison (classified as Botulinum A through G). There are inoculations available to protect against three of them.
There is a tremendous diversity in the bacteria of California. A DNA comparison of the bacteria from around his home with trace bacteria remaining in the crude poison later found in, on or around his dead victims would not be a match. It would in fact be quite different from any bacteria’s DNA found around his home and therefore help to prove his innocence.
Certainly, the care he took with the bacteria samples he collected was more than justified. If he wasn’t careful he might actually plant spores of the remotely collected bacteria right in his own dirt and then he would really be in a fix.
The tradeoff was that by getting the bacteria from a distant location he risked being seen.
Tradeoffs.
Bill knew full-well what the government could do. He knew that he could never be lax in his security. Government agencies had nearly unlimited resources to develop the most arcane and subtle evidence against him.
At home, and before starting work in his shed he first laid plastic sheeting on the floor and five feet up the walls. Each seam was folded over twice and then duct taped. Standing in the shed it looked like you were inside a black balloon with silver seams. The work tables were covered with plastic sheeting and this sheeting draped all the way to the floor. At the floor these drapes were duct taped to the sheeting on the floor. The sheeting was never taped to the walls or floor — instead it was clipped to strategically placed wall clips that held posters and tools. Just the trace of adhesive on a wall would be enough for the feds to get curious.
Before entering the shed he would step each leg into its own plastic trash bag and clip the bag to his trousers at the thigh. He would then clip a trash bag to his front — like an apron. He clipped this bag at each shoulder and at his waist — at the sides. There could be no traces remaining whatsoever.
When he finished a phase of the project he would carefully pull all of the plastic sheeting from the walls and tables and roll it all into a large plastic garden clippings bag. This bag would then be burned in the old kiln and the ashes vacuumed into a plastic bag and disposed of with his week-day lunch trash at a random fast-food restaurant in downtown San Diego.
His need for secrecy encouraged him to do as much work as he could in one session. He even took care of his bathroom needs without leaving the shed.
Each time he left the shed he would step out of his plastic leg and foot covers, clip them to the plastic covered interior wall and close the door. When he returned he could step back into his coverings. He would never leave the property with the shed’s interior covered in plastic. In fact he would never leave the property without destroying everything incriminating in the kiln.
White Americans had been convicted of various crimes after the most minute bits of evidence had been collected from scrapings from the insides of their home’s sewer lines, from dust on their shelves and dirt in their carpets. In the present case, the only traces the feds would find would be those left by illegal aliens.
This was all very serious business and taking this level of precaution reinforced in his psyche the gravity of his endeavor.
The processing began with putting the dirt from each Cuyamaca State Park dirt collection bag into a 9.5 ounce “Starbuck’s frappuccino coffee drink” jar — this was California after all — and then marking the jar with the same number as its bag. He used fingernail polish to mark the jars. The number on the jar would later tell him where the most virulent strains of Botulinum lived. The Starbuck’s jars were the perfect size and he would attract no interest by purchasing coffee drinks. He filled each jar half way with dirt. He then added enough water to bring the level to within an inch of the top.
Botulinum is a survivor. It has two forms of life — as a wiggling bacterium and as a spore — which is really nothing more than an incredibly resilient egg. The spore form is what Bill wanted. So few other bacteria have a spore phase that he could kill off almost everything — including Botulinum in the bacteria phase — and create a perfect environment for Botulinum eggs to then pop open — all alone.
The first thing he needed to do was kill off all of the bacteria living in the jars. He did this by placing the jars in a large pot and then filling the space around the jars with enough water to reach slightly more than half way up their sides. He also tossed the jar lids into the pot.
By leaving the jars to boil in the water bath for a full 60 minutes the heat would kill all of the unwanted bacteria but not the spores of the bacteria making Botulinum.
His Botulinum would soon need something to live on so he then crumbled raw hamburger (with a greasy 30% fat content) into a blender and slowly added enough distilled water to create a thick pink / white meat-mud.
After the hour of boiling was over he spooned enough of raw the pink / white meat-mud into each jar to fill it within a half inch of the top.
There was always a chance that the meat might not have enough food value for his soon to be hatching babies so he then added slightly less than a teaspoon of sugar to each jar.
He then stirred the contents of each jar using a length of steel wire and made certain that the dirt and meat-mud were thoroughly mixed. He used a different piece of wire for each jar so that there would be no cross-contamination.
In nature the bacteria would have years to munch on dead things that were deep down in the earth. Bill wanted results in days not years and so he had to create an artificial but ideal home for his nursery. To do this he let the jars gently boil in the water bath for another ten minutes — until there was a nice thick layer of grease floating at the top of each jar.
The melted grease created an air tight seal and that was what he wanted. Botulinum was an anaerobic bacteria — it would die in an oxygen-rich atmosphere and the grease sealed out the air.
Then he placed the lids on snug.
He then let these jars cool. With the lids on tight there was no way that the vacuum created during the cooling process could suck in oxygen and ruin his work.
After the jars were but barely warm to the touch — about eight hours — he loosened the lids. Noxious gases were forming inside the jars and tight lids would make the jars explode.
He then placed the jars in an area of the shed where they would not experience temperatures above 90 F or temperatures below 70 F.
In less than a week the nearly indestructible Botulinum spores would pop into full fledged bacteria and he would have jars of a brown-black soup that stank. The simple rule was: If it don’t stink like rotten eggs then it ain’t poison.
Bill had done some calculating and believed that — if distributed correctly — the contents of each jar would kill five thousand people.
The jars with really “blooming” Botulinum were selected and the locations of the seed spore ground sites were noted — in the unlikely event that he might need more. Now that he knew where to get the “good” spores he burned his USGS map.
At one time he had worried that he might not have a really pure strain of Botulinum. Then he realized that about the only other things that could live through 60 minutes of a hard boil and that also enjoyed living in rotting meat were bugs like — in alphabetical order — Anthrax, Botulinum, Gangrene and Tetanus. Maybe he had all of them in his jars of black soup!
There were other weapons he could use. The most terrible was the one used by Saddam Hussein against American forces in the Persian Gulf — Mycoplasma Fermentans (incognitus). This bug was a bit bigger than a virus and a bit smaller than a bacterium. The thing loved living between the layers of human muscle. And it was a time bomb. All it took was for someone who was infected to get a really bad cold or in some other way lower his immune system and bang! The Mycoplasma would sprout. And there was no way to predict how bad the disease would strike. In some people it would cause skin ulcers where the only hope was to remove all of the patient’s skin. There had yet to be a successful outcome from this “treatment” and so the person would die in a week or two in extreme pain and on massive doses of morphine. Other people for some reason would simply become tired and have aching joints.
Nearly one million Iraqi’s became sick and more than 400,000 died from this stuff as it was spread by Iraqi soldiers returning from the battlefield to the metropolitan areas of the country. Hundreds of thousands were sick from it in Kuwait and in the northern parts of Jordan. Even Iran now had hundreds of thousands of infected people.
Scary stuff.
Bill would stick to a quick, easy and controllable solution — Botulinum. Besides, Botulinum was even used as a beauty aid! Yep, some doctors injected ever-so-slight traces of Botulinum into the muscles on a woman’s forehead — right between the eyes — to paralyze the muscles and stop them from ever creating frown lines. It also works wonders in reducing Migraine headaches.
Bill’s work would make lots of Mexicans pain free and very beautiful; Dead.
First, he placed the black jars on the table and carefully twisted off the lids.
He then took the black liquid from each jar and filtered it through doubled Mr. Coffee paper filters. He then spread the liquid on a teflon coated shallow pan and let the filtered liquid slowly dry over several days — creating a syrup. Some of the sludge in the filter paper he put aside as a “starter” for the next batch. He would only have to boil the jars in plain water for 60 minutes — he had to sterilize them — and then add the sludge, water, meat and sugar. He didn’t have to collect more dirt. He hid the jars of “starter mix” sludge at the bottom of his septic tank.
In his shed he mixed the black liquid with a little sugar and cinnamon and used this mixture as a decorative icing to spell out the word “POISON” on each cookie. These decorated cookies he then put in the chest in the shed. The cookies really looked nice. His children — Bobby and Samantha — had made the cookie dough, cut out the cookies and baked them. Hey, the whole family could say that they made gingerbread cookies once a month and that they were great! Of course, some of the cookies went out to the shed.
If ever asked about the poisoned food he could at first plead ignorance. Part of any conviction would have to include evidence of the poison and where he got it.
If really pressed he could reply that the poison was used to kill vermin and that it was kept securely locked up behind a locked chain link fence, in a locked shed and in a locked steel chest. And hey! Every single piece said POISON right on it!
Any exposure to this poison can be dangerous — so Bill always did his work under an old commercial cooking range hood that he had modified by draping overlapped four inch wide strips of six mil. clear plastic sheeting from the edge of the hood down to table height.
The fumes went directly to box that had two Sears HEPA room air cleaners inside it and then up and out of the shed — not up and into his lungs. He used HEPA filters on the exhaust because the government has “Calliope” laser systems mounted in satellites and in high flying aircraft to detect such things as: e. Coli, Streptococcus and Botulinum organisms as well as various chemicals of interest to them that might be vented into the air by “dissidents” of one political flavor or another..
The work table itself was covered in 1/8th inch steel plate and was normally used as a work table for his MIG welder. To any investigator the filters would almost seem appropriate for filtering hazardous welding fumes from the air — and would match the “green-ness” of the home.
One nice thing about Botulinum toxin is that if you are showing symptoms it’s already too late. Since it usually takes three or four days for the symptoms to appear all of the guests to Bill’s free lunch would be a hundred miles away and mixed into the melting pot of America before his little bugs took their revenge.
Lastly, the symptoms would be quite similar to everything from stomach flu to too much Tequila. Nobody is gonna spend time and money figuring out why some Mexican illegal alien died in some gutter in south central Los Angeles. And hey, they really did die of food poisoning for God’s sake!
The cookies were so yummy that somebody taking a bite would eat them all. This minimized the amount of evidence available for police to discover later. There was enough poison in just one bite to kill three people so anybody messing with the Johnson’s house would almost assuredly pass this way but once.
He put the cookies in the bags using rubber gloves. He only purchased enough bags to do one batch of cookies and then destroyed the remaining box and bags in the kiln. He never used the same brand of bags in his home as he used for the cookies.
He had no remorse about doing this. American men, women and children were being killed by illegal aliens all along the U.S. / Mexican border. The previous owner of Bill’s property had been killed by illegal aliens. The real tragedies were the dead children. Some illegal aliens coming up from Mexico thought themselves to be above any law and murdering a child was nothing to them.
While the cases were far more numerous than publicly reported, the most pathetic case of child murder occurred just six miles from Bill’s property. The child had been riding her bicycle near her home when a Mexican slammed a screwdriver through the child’s chest and out her back. The child fell from her bike and staggered into the house calling for her mother. The mother called 911 but the child was dead before the Sheriff and an ambulance arrived.
The 11 year old girl was murdered — actually drowning in her own blood while fully conscious, alert and terrified — because the Mexican wanted her bike. He later admitted to authorities that he “was tired of walking.”
Violent crimes were a daily occurrence along The Wall but never publicized because of the “damage it would cause to cross-border relations” and to “our efforts at multi-culturalism.”
San Diego County crime statistics were public record and they showed that there were — on average — three murders along just this part of The Wall each and every month.
Bill had mounted a large diamond plate steel hasp on the storage chest in the shed and had then locked it with a cheap but sturdy padlock. He also put the tools he wanted the bad guys to use to break into the chest right on the wall.
After one idiot actually smashed his way through the storage chest’s hinges instead of just breaking the padlock Bill put two sets of “ideal” tools in plain view. He put one set on the wall above the chest and another set on the floor leaning up against the chest. These people were really stupid.
But hey, the damn box had been broken into 66 times over the last four years!
He estimated that about 500 illegal aliens had “bought the big taco in the sky” thanks to his cooking skills. California’s crime statistics showed that about half of all illegal alien males would eventually be arrested for perpetrating a serious crime. And Bill’s scum had already broken federal law crossing the border and then multiple state and local laws including trespass and at least “breaking and entering” into his shed and steel chest.
If they had broken in to the shed at night (which of course is exactly what they would have done) then the burglary was Second Degree Burglary and a big felony. If they had broken into the house itself then it would have been “burglary into an inhabited dwelling” and an absolute “Burglary in the First Degree” and worth 25 years in prison. Bill and his family need not to have been present for it to be a First Degree Felony. The law was simple “an inhabited dwelling” is defined as either “one currently being used for a dwelling in which the occupant is either present or one to which he intends to return.”
These vermin had thus pre-selected themselves to be part of the most dangerous element of criminal society.
Since most criminals get caught only after about their 30th crime — ever — Bill figured that he had saved California from way more than 15,000 felony assaults, murders, drive by shootings and more.
And too, Bill’s bad guys would never come back to break into his house.
“Our Home of Tomorrow” — was a scary thought. Whites in America had to build fortresses to keep “The New World Order’s” brown flotsam from washing away their jobs, families, gene pool and homes. He hoped he would never need the features he had built into this house.
Only time would tell.