“It has been determined that right-wing dissenters are responsible for the explosions occurring at peaceful protest sites and political rallies. This is why I suspended the First Amendment. It was not in objection to dissenting views, but rather the fact that these militia groups are showing up with assault weapons, and this is usually followed up with fatal and catastrophic events. For some time now, legislation has been insufficient in the control of these individuals finding ways to arm themselves and taking up insurrection against their government. Therefore, I am indefinitely declaring a state of martial law for the purpose of securing our borders against the threat of these domestic terrorists. Until these executive orders are lifted, a mandated curfew will be in effect starting thirty minutes after sunset and lasting until thirty minutes prior to sunrise on a daily basis. Travel chits will be issued by your local law enforcement agency so that those authorized to travel may do so.
“The United Nations have pledged their support and resources to aid us in these coming weeks. We have taken the lead in withdrawing our troops from the war in the Middle East. Our friends in Europe, Asia, and Africa will begin the withdrawal of their forces in the coming weeks. Russia will most likely continue on with their efforts in the Middle East conflicts, but the United States have played their part and are now tending to more pressing matters here at home.
“Effective immediately, congressional powers are revoked indefinitely. The legislative and judicial branches will have no authority until the domestic threat has been abated. The patriot movement will be stopped. Our resolve to pursue national security has never been stronger. Thank you.”
President Baker finished her speech and stepped away from the podium. She ducked away from the barrage of media questions and disappeared from sight as she passed through a blue curtain and into another room. Stephen and Sam were still staring at the TV set as the news anchor was rehashing everything the President had said. It was their daughter, Evan, that broke the silence.
“Mommy, can I watch cartoons?” she asked, hoping to get a quick response. Normally, Evan’s petite voice would instantly melt Stephen’s heart, but on this day he was fixated on what was happening on the TV. When Evan saw that she wasn’t getting her question answered by her mom, she turned her attention towards her dad.
“Daddy, can I watch cartoons?”
“Not now, baby. Something very important is on the TV,” he said, picking her up and setting her on his knee.
Evan’s high energy level was in full effect. No sooner than she had landed on Stephen’s knee, she jumped down and started for the front door. That caught Stephen’s attention.
“No, Evan.” He raised his voice.
“There’s no need to raise your voice at her, Stephen.”
“It’s dangerous out there, Sam. At any moment, the whole town’s going to erupt into pandemonium.”
“What do you mean?”
“You heard what I heard, Sam. That wackadoo’s going to bring about martial law. She just listed a whole plethora of executive orders seizing everything necessary to control the masses.”
“But she said it was for national security.”
Sam was not canny regarding politics. Anytime there was a political issue that she saw was working on Stephen’s emotions, she had to slow him down and ask a ton of questions. She was the smart one when it came to home affairs; that was her world. The nuances of the outside world, specifically the law and government, were her weaknesses.
“Babe,” Stephen said, looking at her and pointing at the TV, “this lady is three years into her second term. Now she’s invoking several executive orders that take the control of food, power, water, and God only knows what else away from the people!”
“I don’t understand.”
“She’s calling for martial law and there won’t be an election. She’s likely to keep executive powers over every aspect of our lives.”
“I want to go outside, Daddy,” Evan interrupted.
“You can’t go outside, baby.”
“Why not?”
Stephen didn’t know how to explain the situation to Evan. Her cute little eyes were looking up at her daddy, and he knew he had to give her an answer. He just didn’t know how to justify it. After thinking on it for just a couple seconds, he moved to where she was standing and stooped down onto one knee.
“Mommy and Daddy are gonna go talk about it. Maybe we can come up with a plan so you can go outside. But for now, I need you to go to your room and wait for us to call for you. Okay? Can you do that for us?”
Evan shrugged her shoulders and said, “Okay.”
Stephen stood and watched her walk away to her bedroom. With his attention now going back to Sam, he picked back up on the conversation.
“We have some tough decisions to make,” he said authoritatively.
“Like what?”
He could see the concern in her eyes.
“We can’t stay here. It’s going to get dangerous. How long are we going to keep Evan in the house?”
Sam knew he was right. The thought of barring Evan from going outside indefinitely was almost overwhelming to her. All she could think about was living life as though they were imprisoned.
She walked up to Stephen and placed her hands on his arms as he stood there pondering the situation. Stephen was far taller than Sam. She was close enough to him that her head was level with his chest. With her head cranked back so she could look at his face, she asked the big question.
“Are we going to have to head for Gorham?”
“I’m not sure, hon. We’re going to have to wait on the call.”
“Which call?”
Sam knew that at any given time, his unit would most likely be activated. That would mean they were really waiting on one of two phone calls. Her question and concern was which call was Stephen going to act on?
“Do you still have that backpack I made up for you a couple years ago?” he asked her.
“The bugout bag? Yeah, it’s buried in the closet unless you moved it.”
“I haven’t touched it. Listen, we have some tough choices coming up, and to be frank with you, I don’t know what to do just yet. I’ve had enough time to think this out, and now that it’s upon me, I feel unprepared.”
Sam looked into his eyes with that reassuring gaze she always gave him. Her half smile would have fooled him into thinking she was happy if not for the worry in her eyes. She had a way with sharing what was in her heart by the look in her eyes. She was easy for Stephen to read.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, as long as you and I can stay together and keep Evan safe. She’s all that matters.”
“That’s the thing; I will do anything to keep you guys safe, but it may require me to be apart for a time.”
“Apart?”
“I’m just saying that I don’t know what’s at the fork. If the Guard is activated, then I think I’ll report in, listen to the briefing, gather some intel, and base my next move off of that. I’m just not going AWOL.”
AWOL was military jargon for “absent without leave.” It usually entailed a maximum punishment of imprisonment if found guilty.
“Where do you think they’ll send you?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll stay local, but the way things are looking, I may end up going there.”
Stephen pointed to the television, where the media had coverage in the thick of a city-wide riot. Molotov cocktails were flying at police cruisers, and old storefronts were ablaze. Widespread violence and looting were being covered by the news station, with the heading WHEN WILL PRESIDENT BAKER SECURE OUR STREETS?
The District
Saturday, July 12, 2031
6:32 p.m.
President Adalyn Baker was sitting with her family in one of the many Whitehouse dining rooms. Her husband, Ron, was not as liberally minded as she was. He was more of a moderate that had very few absolutes in his view of life. To him, everything was relative. That gave him a few conservative views; how
ever, he always had a tendency to get hung up on national security issues when he spoke with his wife. She was concrete and resolute when it came to security. She had a view that America could be protected by government expanse. She failed to see the historical lessons in the world’s history. How that expanding government always led to a hostile takeover and control of individual liberty, essentially rendering it a privilege, rather than individual liberty.
“Don’t you think you’re overlooking the significance of what our Founding Fathers did when they wrote out the Declaration of Independence?” he asked, challenging her to consider the ramifications of the previous day’s state of the union address.
“Our Founding Fathers believed in social welfare. That can only be achieved through federal aid. The population is struggling as it is. If we continue to let these hooligan patriots run amuck with their guns, stirring up strife wherever they go, then we will never attain social welfare. We have to be strong, Ron.”
Ron watched Adalyn as she stood up from the table and walked over to the window, her hands clasped in front of her. He admired her slim physique and brown hair. He pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth. Pushing himself away from the table, he walked up behind her, grabbing her hips in a passionate gesture.
“Look, Addy, I’m not trying to frustrate you. I just want to make sure you make the right decisions here. The future of our children depend on it. This will be their America. How do you want their world to be?”
Adalyn turned around and grabbed his hands.
“I want them to grow up unafraid of gun violence. The streets are not safe anymore. The patriots are always running off on their renegade witch hunts, always in search of the so-called ‘jihadists.’ We have to make sure the Muslims are not being offended by them.”
“How is that the government’s responsibility? It’s not your job to protect others from being offended.”
“Maybe not, but it’s that offense that has been drumming up more attacks. I don’t see them the way you do, Ron. I see instigators.”
“Addy, they’ve been blowing up innocent people for years. They’ve been cutting the heads off of people for not believing the way they do. This was a matter of fact long before militia groups started taking matters into their own hands. It was the government’s inaction that led these groups into action.”
“Well, Ron, I intend to see it through that all terrorist activity comes to an end. Only through international support can we find an answer. I’ll deal with the domestic terrorists and the foreign terrorists in one fell swoop. This RFID program will allow us to monitor everyone’s coming and going.”
“Would you please stop calling them domestic terrorists? And do you really think everyone will get this chip?”
“Yes, I do. If they want to buy, sell, or trade, they will need it.”
“So protestors will starve? Innocent children will starve because their parents may object on moral grounds?”
“I believe that people will come around to it. When they see the world moving in this direction and that it’s not harmful, they will understand that the government is the answer.”
Ron, tired of disagreeing, did what he always did when he failed to make headway. He walked away.
Adalyn’s phone rang.
Ron knew what it was. She had a special phone assigned to her as President. She had a different ringtone set for each agency. For some of the cabinet members, her phone would talk to her by speaking the name of the person who was attempting to contact her. This time, when it rang, it said Franklin Brown is attempting to reach you on your cellular device.
Franklin Brown was the head of the Department of Homeland Security. His department was one of many that suffered massive budget cuts just before the Islamic jihadists crossed the southern border. His call could only mean one thing. Ron knew that his worst fears were now coming true.
“Hello?” she said into her phone, using her presidential voice. “I see … No, that’s not good. Not good at all … Well, what do you recommend? … No, I’m not obliged to do that, but it’s within my realm of responsibility, wouldn’t you agree? … Then it’s settled. Activate all military reserve units, all National Guard units, and call in the inactive reserve units … Oh, and Mr. Brown, initiate Operation Acts of Defiance.”
Arlington County, Virginia
National Guard Bureau
July 12, 2031
8:16 p.m.
General Michael Graves was a four-star general and member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff when the call came from Secretary of Defense Orland Brumhurst to mobilize nearly one million Air and Army National Guardsmen. It was Brumhurst’s final duty as Secretary of Defense. He was being reassigned to temporarily head up the Federal Emergency Management Act. Graves would have liked to have considered it a shock when the call came, but given the escalation in violence and the demoralization of American patriotism, he knew this moment was inevitable. Graves was privy to a great deal of classified intelligence, as were the rest of the Joint Chiefs. Like the others, he felt a great deal of internal turmoil on the issues that were plaguing the country and how he would respond should the directive to activate nearly one million soldiers ever come. That day did come, and it came way too early, by his reckoning. When he was given the word to initiate Operation Acts of Defiance, he knew it was the beginning of the end.
Graves called a mandatory and classified teleconference with his commanding generals. He was now sitting in a soundproof room, looking at holographic projections of each of his commanding officers. Likewise, they sat in their headquarters, looking at a projected image of their general.
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. Let me remind you that this meeting is for your eyes and ears only and is not to be shared until you hear otherwise. I’m seeing forty-nine TAGs and that means that you all made it.” TAG was military jargon for The Adjutant General , which was a commanding officer over his/her respective state of service. The state’s adjutant general commanded the National Guard for his state of assignment. The exception was the District of Columbia, which answered directly to the President of the United States. “Title 10 of the United States Code has been initiated by President Baker, thereby calling every state into mandatory service and placed under federal control until such time as the President feels the national crisis has been abated. The Department of Defense is powerless in our current status.”
General Graves could see the concern on the faces of each TAG. He knew their worst fears had also come to pass. Most of their projections were fairly sharp images, and some were blurry, but one thing was consistent; they each became uncomfortable in their own way. Sensing their discomfort, Graves attempted to reconcile what was being said with what was happening in America. He was hopeful that his voice would not betray his feelings; that something was not right.
“Gentlemen, Operation Acts of Defiance is now underway. I am sending you detailed and highly classified information regarding this operation, which the President has assured the Joint Chiefs is only temporary. I want each of you to go over the data thoroughly and make sure you understand it completely. If you have any questions, it is paramount that you contact me immediately. Your respective state governors no longer have any control over your units. The state’s authority is indefinitely revoked. Unless you hear from me, orders are to be questioned and challenged. Thank you, gentlemen. May God be with us all.”
Carbondale, Illinois
Sunday, July 13, 2031
1:46 a.m.
Captain Alex Ebers’s phone rang, waking his wife from a deep sleep. It went off five or six times before she nudged him from his sleep. First he felt the nudge, then heard the ring.
Ring, ring.
The captain rolled over to grab the phone, but his arm was dead from having cut off the blood supply. He oftentimes had the habit of falling asleep on it, causing it to go fully numb.
“Argh,” he moaned, trying to sit up with one arm. Grabbing the phone with his good hand, he saw the n
otification of the phone call he had just missed.
“Who was it?” his wife, Monica, asked.
Still squinting at the bright display screen, he replied, “It was Brigadier General Simmons.”
“At this time of night?” she barked. “Nuh-uh. Ain’t no way you’re going in at no two o’clock in the morning.”
The captain was still half asleep, but if there was one thing he had learned in the military, it was not to shirk duty.
Alex hit the recall option on his phone.
“This better be important,” Monica said.
Alex was using his free hand, which now had some circulation in it, to attempt to calm down his frustrated wife.
Simmons’s phone rang about four times before he answered.
“Yes, sir, it’s Captain Ebers. Sorry I missed your call … I see …Yes, sir … Right away, sir.”
Monica was growing concerned. This wasn’t the usual phone call he would get at random times with instructions on the next drill. This was something more important. She watched as her husband stood up and started pacing around the darkened room.
“I’ll get the units together as quickly as possible, sir … Good night to you, sir.”
“Alex? What’s happening?”
“We need to get you someplace safe.”
Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) Page 2