United States Marines on Saturday liberated 11 children whom FEMA had imprisoned inside a dormant boxcar on an abandoned rail line stretching between Lane and Rush Counties in Kansas, a source in General Eric M. Smith’s office told Real Raw News.
A day earlier, a federal 5th Columnist told Gen. Smith that “his people” had overheard a gut-wrenching phone call between a highly placed FEMA supervisor and an unknown party, on which the FEMA boss said “an eleven-piece puzzle” would be ready for pick up in 24 hours, after one more “piece” was added to it. The Columnist supplied a series of numbers, presumably GPS coordinates to the location.
“We have a system in place to vet informants. This one was known to us and had given us solid info. And we know the Deep State uses innocuous-sounding keywords and vagaries when they want to conceal what they’re up to. Informant had a hunch it was kids,” our source said.
Smoldering with resentment for kidnappers and eager to stop even one more innocent child from falling into the clutches of slavers, Gen. Smith at once mustered a seasoned scout/sniper squad as he scrutinized the intelligence.
The GPS coordinates pointed to a vast swath of emptiness, miles from nowhere, in the windswept prairie and undulating surface of Ness County, Kansas. The nearest settlements were Utica, to the west, and Arnold, to the east, connected by both State Highway 4 and an inoperative stretch of forsaken and derelict train tracks that Union Pacific decommissioned in 2004, and subsequently removed miles of to mitigate environmental degradation of the area.
Our source said that Gen. Smith spoke with an ally, a high-ranking officer of the Army’s 158th Aviation Regiment, at Marshall Army Airfield, Fort Riley, Kansas. The general asked him to ready two Blackhawks fitted with external fuel tanks for a paramount mission, adding that a planeload of Marines aboard a civilian jet, a Gulfstream 650, would land at the airfield within five hours.
The jet touched down at 3:00 a.m. Saturday. After deboarding, the Marines were driven to helipads where a pair of Blackhawks sat waiting, their rotors spinning. They discussed contingencies during the 220-mile flight and instructed the pilots not to overfly the GPS coordinates in case FEMA had sentinels nearby. Instead, they approached from the north and landed near a forgotten cemetery overrun with prairie grass that enshrouded old tombstones. The team leader estimated that the coordinates were two miles southeast, 30 minutes of rucking it.
“He laid out the plan,” our source said. “The Marines would neutralize threats, confirm if kids were there, and then call the Blackhawks to the coordinates. The Marines would then wait behind while the helicopters took children to safety, and then refuel and come back for them. The Columnist said “11 pieces” after another was delivered. That meant, if they were kids, we were looking for 11 altogether. And hopefully kill the kidnappers and whoever was picking up the “puzzle,” if possible.”
The Marines encountered no hostiles on their approach and soon discovered what lay at the GPS coordinates: a rusted boxcar, doors shut tightly, sitting on a dilapidated piece of rail. Observing the scene through binoculars, they saw no sentries but did see tire impressions leading away from the boxcar to Highway 4 to the south. Confident the area was free of potential adversaries, the Marines split into two groups, one providing cover while the other advanced on the boxcar and opened its doors.
The eleven children inside had been gagged and shackled, their little legs fitted with iron clamps bolted to the floor. They were sitting and lying in puddles of urine and piles of feces. Besides the children, only litter—candy wrappers and empty Spam cans—occupied the car.
The squad’s commander told the kids he was part of a rescue team and ordered them to remain silent as the Marines removed the gags. One frightened child said the abductors had put another child in the car less than an hour ago, fed them candy, replaced their gags, and left. Our source said the children, though soiled, appeared relatively healthy and ambulatory.
The Marines cut the restraints with bolt cutters as the Blackhawks swooped in, hovering just above the ground about 60 feet from the train car. Once the children were safely aboard, the Blackhawks climbed into the air and ferried them to safety, as the Marines concealed themselves and awaited the arrival of whomever intended to receive the children. No one came.
The Blackhawks returned five hours later, and the Marines asked the pilots to find a safe spot to land several miles north, out of sight, as they desperately wanted to slay the child predators—and maybe take one alive. They waited patiently for 36 more hours, but the enemy never showed its face.
Orders came down from Gen. Smith that he needed the Marines for another urgent Mission.
“We figured something happened,” our source said. “Our guess is the traffickers got tipped off or spotted our guys and got the hell out of there. The Marines are happy they saved the kids but pissed off they didn’t get to kill anyone. They really wanted to bust some heads, spill some blood.”
The children, a mix of boys and girls between 6 and 12 years old, have received medical care, our source said.
“I can say while that op was underway, another team took the FEMA supervisor alive. And I’ll share some details on that once I get clearance,” our source said in closing.