False Flag by Bobby Akart Page A

just send them a fucking certified letter?” O’Brien laughed. “What’s the other suggestion?”
    “In my capacity with Federal Protective Services, I am able to gain access to the National Guard armories in your jurisdiction, Governor,” replied Pearson. “This option is a little tricky politically and requires more time to implement. But it is an option for you.”
    O’Brien sat back in his chair as he clearly pondered his options. Gibson didn’t like either one. Arming his band of thieves with a large arsenal was not an option. He needed to buy some time and report this back to the colonel.
    “Sir, may I make a suggestion?” asked Gibson.
    O’Brien didn’t answer, but waved his hands as if to indicate by all means .
    “Organizing a group of men to confiscate weapons from local gun shops would be a fast and effective way to get weapons for your team. We could use them to train as well. I presume that under the President’s Declaration of Martial Law, you are not required to give notice of such activity. Am I correct?” Gibson looked at both Pearson and O’Brien for the response he anticipated.
    “Yes, we can do whatever the fuck we want,” replied O’Brien. “What do you have in mind?”
    “Well, sir, during tomorrow’s training session, let me handpick four men for this task,” replied Gibson. “I will identify those men who seem to be more advanced than the others. You know, capable of getting the job done, sir.”
    “I like the way you think, Gibson,” said O’Brien. “Then what?”
    “Tomorrow evening, under your authority, sir, this team will go store to store and confiscate every last weapon and box of ammunition,” replied Gibson. His mind was reeling. He needed to get Pearson involved somehow. “If Mr. Pearson doesn’t mind assisting, he could work with the men tomorrow afternoon at Camp Curtis Guild and prepare a list of stores for the first night’s work.”
    “Sure, I’d be glad to help,” said Pearson. “I just need to know where to start.”
    Gibson stood and walked over to a telephone table. He found the yellow pages and thumbed through to the gun shops. “Just a suggestion, but you could hit them geographically,” he said. “Maybe hit the stores north of the Charles after training tomorrow. On Wednesday, hit the stores west of the city, and so on.”
    “Okay, I like Gibson’s plan,” said O’Brien. “Now, what about the armories?”
    “It will take me several days to gather the keys to the vault , as they say,” replied Pearson. “But I should have everything in place by Friday.”
    By O’Brien accepting Gibson’s suggestion for confiscating the weapons from gun stores, he now accomplished the foot-in-the-door method of manipulation. He’d offered an easy solution to the problem, which was quickly accepted by both Pearson and O’Brien. Now he would manipulate them into following his lead on the real request—access to the armories.
    “With respect to the armories, if Mr. Pearson wouldn’t mind working with me directly, I have a couple of ideas,” said Gibson. This was Gibson’s chance to gain control of this situation and set up Pearson at the same time. “Of course, I will have to accelerate the training of the men,” started Gibson. “It’s not ideal, but they are fast learners.” Gibson had command of the room.
    “I’m listening,” said O’Brien as he lit up a cigar.
    Gibson continued. “Let’s face it, gentlemen, we’re raiding the armories of the Massachusetts National Guard. This will be a shock to the system in that a clear message is being sent to state and local politicians—Governor O’Brien is the man in charge now.”
    O’Brien leaned back in his chair and let a huge puff of smoke into the air. He was clearly enjoying this moment. Gibson recalled later that O’Brien resembled Boss Hog from the Dukes of Hazzard .
    “Ironically, there are forty-four armories and support facilities in the commonwealth,” continued Gibson.