Sin Eaters Read online

  FORGOTTEN

  FORBIDDEN

  AMERICA

  Sin Eaters

  Book Five

  …..

  THOMAS A. WATSON

  Copyright © May 1, 2019

  THOMAS A. WATSON

  A-POC PRESS

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  A special Thank you to the following people for all your help:

  Sabrina Jean

  Leslie Bryant

  Yalonda Butler

  Steven Smith

  Rebecca Larsen

  William Beedie

  Deb Serres

  Sara Andrews

  Cora Burke

  Joseph Ruffolo

  Robert Launt

  Jon Spielman

  Anna Shirley

  Bridgit Walker

  Arthur Maybee

  Jeff Ashby Jr.

  Fleur Wilkinson

  Cheryl Deariso

  Credits

  EDITED BY SABRINA JEAN

  www.fasttrackediting.com

  COVER ART BY CHRISTIAN BENTULAN

  www.coversbychristian

  This book is a work of Fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Thank you for acknowledging the hard work of this author. If you didn’t purchase this book or it wasn’t purchased for you, please go purchase your own copy now.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One …………………………………………………..

  Chapter Two …………………………………………………

  Chapter Three ……………………………………………….

  Chapter Four……………………………………………….

  Chapter Five ………………………………………………..

  Chapter Six …………………………………………………

  Chapter Seven ……………………………………………..

  Chapter Eight ………………………………………………

  Chapter Nine ……………………………………………….

  Chapter Ten ………………………………………………...

  Chapter Eleven …………………………………………….

  Chapter Twelve…………………………………………….

  Chapter Thirteen …………………………………………..

  Chapter Fourteen ………………………………………….

  Chapter Fifteen …………………………………………….

  Chapter Sixteen ……………………………………………

  Chapter Seventeen ………………………………………..

  Chapter Eighteen ………………………………………….

  Chapter Nineteen………………………………………….

  Chapter Twenty ……………………………………………

  Chapter Twenty-One ……………………………………...

  Chapter Twenty-Two……………………………………...

  Chapter Twenty- Three …………………………………...

  Chapter Twenty-Four ……………………………………..

  Chapter Twenty-Five ……………………………………...

  Chapter Twenty-Six ……………………………………….

  Chapter Twenty-Seven……………………………………

  Chapter Twenty-Eight…………………………………….

  This book is dedicated to Katarina Swift, Papaw’s little princess.

  Hello to all my readers!

  First I must say thank you, without you none of this would be possible. I do apologize that it takes so long to get a book out. But I want to give my readers something worthwhile to enjoy. Yes, I could pump books out and have tried it. Sorry to say I wasn’t happy with the results.

  If I don’t laugh, cry or get angry writing and reading my stories then the story sucks to me.

  I know many who read complain about comas, well I’m here to tell you for every rule you find to say use one, I can show you a rule not to. Same goes for capitalization. I put them in the story as needed for inflection. I was taught a comma is a pause in a sentence and that’s what I use them for.

  I’m just thankful for Word program because spelling is my major issue. I do apologize for those words I miss and with my editor and beta readers. Even with the program the word is spelled correct but, it’s the wrong word. Thing is, when I read it, most of the time, I put in and read the right word.

  This story is nearing its completion and should be done in the next book. Well, I will be done with it in the next book but Tina may split the book in half depending how long it is.

  I have been asked who my favorite is in this series and it’s been tough. But, I have to finally say, Pain and Siren are my favorites. Brandy and Big Gun would be next. Not even I saw the evolution of those two and what they will evolve into later. Then there would be Michelle. I knew how the story was going to end but not even I saw where she would end up.

  Oh yes, I cried writing the last book and did in one scene in this one but that is the story.

  To Tina, I say thank you for joining me in this endeavor. I could still write books but they would suck with the mistakes that would fill the pages.

  To everyone, again I say thank you.

  Now I present, Forgotten Forbidden America: Sin Eaters

  Chapter One

  The Big Picture

  Standing at the front entrance of the White House, Secret Service Agent Moreno heard his earbud go off. “Colonel Marshall entering main gate, heading to front entrance.”

  Giving a sigh, Agent Moreno stood rigid, pondering the colonel as he watched a line of black SUVs approaching. Anyone on the hill with any power knew Colonel Sebastian Marshall. Even though he was only a colonel most feared him, and for good reason. Marshall had made full bird colonel in the army in the unheard of span of ten years. From a wealthy family and a graduate of West Point, many thought he would be on the Joint Chiefs of Staff within another five to six years.

  But to the surprise of everyone, Marshall turned down the appointment of Brigadier General, a one star general, two years later. Two more times the appointment of general was offered and he still turned it down. What many would come to realize only too late, was Marshall had real power where he was, and it only continued to grow the longer he stayed there. Many in the government knew there was a shadow government and Marshall was a key player. Very few were high enough on the tree to be safe from him and even those who were respected him. The shadow government was the group of people that worked behind the scenes and were never replaced during elections. This small group represented those with the money that put politicians in office, and those with the money were the ones who made the rules.

  Watching the SUVs park, Moreno continued to think about the colonel and barely shook his head. Marshall was many things but one thing all agreed upon, he was a worker and followed the order of the president and those above him in his chain of command. The problem was there were only a few officers and fewer civilians he answered to. Everyone else on the hill, Marshall wasn’t concerned with and that included other higher-ranking officers. He would be courteous to higher rank as appropriate, but any that tried his patience found out it was career suicide at the very least, and only
if you were lucky. To those not-so lucky, they would have an accident. Those that really pissed him off, like a young senator, they would have an accident that hurt them very badly before they died. Agent Moreno could think of two other cases offhand without even trying hard. If one just irritated Marshall, they usually died of ‘natural causes’.

  To his credit, once given a job, Marshall would see it through, and woe betide anyone who tried to say he wasn’t doing his job. There was a two-term senator who’d called the colonel before Congress about the tactics he’d used to track terrorist and Pentagon bids. Only the young senator had been hostile toward the colonel because the other senators on the panel had known not to fuck with Marshall.

  Not three months after that inquiry, the young senator had been snow skiing and his bindings had broken, sending him spilling down the mountain. He’d survived to be airlifted to a hospital. Within twelve hours of being put into a room, the young senator had died from a heart attack. Everyone knew it was Marshall’s doing, from the broken skis to the heart attack, but none even attempted to have him questioned. “And that was two years before the collapse. What does he fear now? Nothing. He can do anything to anyone now and fear no recourse,” the agent mumbled as the doors on the SUVs opened.

  The agent was surprised when the colonel stepped out of the second SUV wearing his dress greens. In the last year since the second civil war had broken out, most of the times he’d reported to the White House for a briefing wearing his camouflage battle uniform. Carrying a briefcase was a young captain whom, Moreno knew was Marshall’s military assistant. The captain then grabbed another bigger suitcase and a laptop bag while the colonel glanced around waiting on his adjutant officer.

  Behind Moreno, a Marine guard held open the door when Marshall and the captain walked up the steps. Spinning around, Moreno led them through the door and past the check-in station around the metal detectors. Nobody, secret service or guards, told the colonel to walk through or ask to check his briefcase or that of his adjutant officer.

  Leading them through the White House, Moreno kept a steady pace and when Marshall spoke, he fought not to jump. “Have they started?” Marshall asked with a disinterested tone.

  “No, Colonel. They just finished eating breakfast,” Moreno answered. In the two years he had been assigned to the White House, he’d seen Marshall over a hundred times. This was the first time Marshall had ever spoken to him, and he didn’t like it. Moreno had no problem admitting to himself, he was scared of Colonel Sebastian Marshall.

  “Figures,” Marshall huffed.

  Seeing two more agents ahead flanking double doors, Moreno stepped aside to let Marshall pass with the captain in tow. For a man in his mid-forties, Moreno had to admit the colonel was in outstanding shape. Standing at less than six feet tall but over two hundred pounds, the colonel’s rigid posture and air of power made him seem much taller and musclebound.

  “Captain Bolton,” Marshall said over his shoulder while passing Moreno.

  Speeding up to move closer, “Yes, sir,” Bolton snapped.

  “If this meeting goes on for over six hours, get on your phone and have someone call me so we can leave,” Marshall ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” Bolton acknowledged, following Marshall through the doors into a massive room.

  There were over fifty people seated at a long table with the president at one end. Nobody sat at the other end and there was a huge plasma screen that took up a large portion of the wall. Along the walls sat aides to those at the table.

  “Colonel, need for them bring you some breakfast?” the president asked, watching Marshall set his briefcase in the chair.

  Glancing at the president, Marshall still thought he looked like a kid. Federal President Samuel Gifford had been thirty-five when he’d taken office two years ago. The youngest president ever elected.

  Shaking his head, “No, thank you, Mr. President,” Marshall answered as he walked around the table. “I ate on the jet,” he said, stopping at a table in the corner with a large silver coffee pot. Grabbing a cup, Marshall gave a small grin, smelling the expensive roast.

  At Marshall’s spot at the table, Captain Bolton was setting up the laptop. Ignoring those to either side, Bolton pulled out folders before setting them to the left of the laptop. Seeing stuff in the colonel’s area from the occupant to the left, Bolton shoved them aside. He knew it was the senate minority leader and didn’t care. Just as the captain hadn’t cared, neither did the minority leader, and he gladly moved more stuff to give the captain more room.

  “Where are you coming from?” the president asked.

  “Florida,” Marshall answered, then took a sip savoring the excellent coffee. “Caught most of the group that was damaging the railroads in Georgia while we chased the Sin Eaters. They were just a bunch of civilians.”

  “That’s good,” the president smiled.

  Turning around and heading back to his spot, Marshall saw Bolton setting another stack of folders to the right of his laptop. He couldn’t help but grin, watching Bolton type the password in the laptop to have it ready. He nodded at General Schmidt, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. The two star, or Major General, beside Schmidt had been a captain under Marshall twelve years ago. “Ted,” Marshall nodded, and the major general winked back.

  Officers who’d served under Marshall that could think, follow orders, and were ruthless, always got the fast track. And Marshall hand-picked each officer who served under him, so all were top-notch.

  As Marshall rounded the table, Bolton moved back to the wall with the other aides and pulled out a legal pad to take notes.

  “Everyone ready?” the president asked once Marshall had sat down. Not waiting for answers he continued, “As many of you know, I’ve just appointed Donald Weaver to my cabinet, replacing Perkins. He hasn’t been brought up to speed on everything yet, so any questions from him, just answer.”

  Nobody glanced at the colonel or said anything, but they nodded to Donald. Perkins had been found dead two weeks ago in a mansion along the beach in South Carolina. Not only was Perkins dead, but also his family, four friends and their families, and all seventeen members of his security detail. Perkins had been found nailed to a wall with his family, a Sin Eater card stapled to his forehead.

  “General Schmidt,” the president said.

  Glancing over his shoulder, “Commander Dunning, brief us on the Pacific theater,” Schmidt barked at one of the naval officers behind him. “Start up the overview.”

  Watching the commander move to the end of the table with the large plasma screen and set up a laptop, Marshall turned toward the other end where Donald sat four chairs down on the right from the president. In all reality, Marshall liked Donald. He was smart, came from a good family, and knew how to get things done. None of that had applied to the man he was replacing, including Marshall liking the man. More than once, he’d been tempted to let Perkins have an ‘on purpose’ accident.

  The screen turned on behind the commander as he tapped his laptop, showing a large map of Asia with China colored red. “Thank you, Mr. President. Intelligence reports the Chinese army hasn’t started any new campaigns in the last three weeks. As of now, China has taken over Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, and Burma.” As the commander read them off, each country turned red.

  “Commander,” Donald called out. “What kind of insurgency problems are the Chinese having in the conquered territories?”

  Shaking his head, “None whatsoever, Mr. Weaver,” the commander answered. “When the army rolled in, they herded all civilians ahead of them, and those that didn’t stay ahead got shot.”

  One of the aides sitting along the wall moaned out, “Damn.”

  “Are we certain? That would take lots of bullets, Commander,” Donald stated.

  “Yes, sir. Over 230 million when they invaded last year, and they’re still killing in all captured territories but so far, we estimate over seventy percent have been forced to flee, been executed, or died of starvation. Thei
r technique is simple; see someone not Chinese and shoot them. We do have confirmation that in the large cities, China deployed short term, non-persistent, chemical weapons. After the chemical agent expired, they opened up with artillery and rolled in.”

  For several seconds Donald stared at the commander in shock, then gave a slow nod. “Yes, that is an effective technique,” he admitted.

  Continuing on, “China now holds all of Korea, but unlike the other countries in central Asia, China left all the cities in the south intact. They never bombed or used artillery on any major city in South Korea. The Chinese Army literally cleared each building room by room, so they could keep the infrastructure and factories intact. North Korea, they just leveled. With a north and south combined population of over seventy million, the Chinese army reached the end of the peninsula a month ago. It took them nine months to wipe out that many people, and they used no chemical weapons in the Korean campaign. But one thing China didn’t take into account was the South Korean Army and their two thousand tanks. Just from reconnaissance flights, we know China lost over five thousand tanks. Our best estimates say less than five million Korean civilians escaped to Japan, the Philippines, or Australia.”

  With no hint of surprise hearing China had attacked North Korea, “How did the little dictator take the Chinese army rolling in?” Donald asked.

  Not even trying to hide his grin, the commander answered, “He, along with his entire cabinet, were killed in the opening hours by airborne troops.”

  “Just what size army did the Chinese send into Korea?” Donald blurted out in shock.

  Raising his eyebrows, “They haven’t said and our satellites have photos, but our best guess is over six million troops with those five thousand tanks went into the peninsula, with several million troops flowing in as replacements,” the commander offered. Seeing Donald about to speak, “That’s the same size army they sent into all Central Asia - Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, and Burma, but with only two thousand tanks. They really wanted South Korea intact and from satellite photos, they seemed to have done that.”