A State of Treason

by David Thomas Roberts

  Like Johnson, Bartlett completely trusted Smith’s political instincts, and she knew he was cracking the door open for her for this historic opportunity. She also knew Smith would expect the key role in her election campaign in return. That was how Smith operated.

  “I would be honored to lead this contingent for you,” Bartlett said, as she turned from Smith to Johnson.

  “Let’s figure out who would be the best political choices to join you in this effort if we go in that direction,” added Smith.

  Seemingly unconvinced, and knowing Bartlett’s political ambitions when his second term was over, Johnson hesitated. It was very hard for him to let go of his hatred for Gov. Cooper. He relished the idea of the Texas governor being dragged out of his office in handcuffs for the entire world to see.

  “I would like to have Bartlett, Tibbs, Brooks, Doolittle, Avery and Davian to remain. The rest of you are excused. You’ll be briefed as appropriate. Let me remind everyone that any and all discussions in this room are top secret and cannot be discussed with your staff, spouses or anyone. Is that understood?” asked the president sternly.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. President,” responded those in the room, almost in unison.

  It was not lost on those staying behind that any strategy on how to deal with the Texas crisis in the next meeting would likely be the most important decision in President Johnson’s tenure as president.

  As soon as everyone left the room, those asked to stay behind looked to the president.

  “Before I make a decision on diplomacy or just sending in troops to arrest Cooper, I would like you to tell me how you see this going down and how long it would take,” Johnson said to Bartlett.

  “Mr. President, I believe the thing to do is to get a meeting with Cooper’s underlings and find out if he will surrender or what it will take to normalize things from their perspective,” said Bartlett.

  “Are you friggin’ serious?” yelled an enraged Tibbs.

  “Hold on, hold on, Jamail,” the president interjected, “let’s see what her idea is first.”

  “Do we give a shit what Texas wants?” demanded Tibbs.

  Bartlett was becoming even more irritated at Tibbs. Whenever she got agitated or nervous, it manifested in her neck and chest area and became red and almost rash-like in the same flushing manner as some people whose faces became red when they were angry or flustered. This was one of the principal reasons Bartlett wore frumpy, high-collar fashions. She wanted to be able to hide this tell-tale sign so as not to give away any hint of weakness—or to display a poker face when necessary—yet she now felt the all-too common flush as if it could be seen through her clothes.

  “Mr. President,” said Bartlett, “Texas has already started a publicity campaign to show the rest of the world the impact on ordinary citizens from the banking restrictions, the blockade and the stopping of federal payments. For the record, I want you to know I do not agree with the decision to suspend Social Security checks and veterans’ benefits.” Bartlett sent a piercing glance at the group. “What are we thinking here? Those decisions could backfire quickly—and I personally believe they will.”

  She looked around for a response. The first to offer one was Smith, who was the political sage primarily responsible for everyone in the room being in their current elected and appointed positions.

  “Mr. President, I agree partially with Secy. Bartlett. I do believe that, over an extended period, these actions could be politically damaging. But,” turning to Bartlett as he continued, “those damages could be outweighed by a swift conclusion. If we were successful in extracting and arresting Cooper, we believe the rest of the dominos would fall in line. The potential win politically from this action may outweigh the short-term consequences on military veterans or the elderly on Social Security.”

  “Avery, that is a very large gamble I would be extremely hesitant to take,” Bartlett shot back.

  “Where is this in polling?” asked Johnson

  Bartlett couldn’t help rolling her eyes. This president couldn’t cross the street without polling data to confirm it was the right course. And then, he still got it wrong. “It’s about where you’d expect, along party lines, Mr. President.”

  “Okay, but for how long?”

  “I would expect more human interest stories about a starving elderly vet making national and global news before too long.”

  Johnson cringed.

  “Sir, we would do this in a back-room manner. Nobody needs to know it happened or if it was successful. Let me see if we can resolve this crisis with negotiations,” begged Bartlett.

  “They won’t live up to their end anyway. It’s a waste of time,” responded Tibbs.

  “Atty. Gen. Tibbs, do you have any compassion for these folks who likely don’t have enough money to buy food or their prescriptions?”

  “Annabelle, don’t act so damned morally superior to the rest of us! We all know your M.O. on this. You want to be the one who negotiates an end to this crisis and be the hero, simply for your own political aspirations,” said Tibbs.

  “Jamail, if I were you, I’d be more concerned with how the Spilners died in that car accident,” retorted Bartlett.

  “Okay, folks, relax!” Smith stood as if to stop the two cabinet members from coming to blows.

  “Avery, let’s you and I discuss this. I realize passions are high for everyone here. I’ll make my decision and that will be what we do. Is that understood by everyone here?” asked the president.

  Both Bartlett and Tibbs nodded. Gould, Doolittle and Kyler, who had just been spectators in the after-meeting, also nodded.

  The thought that his impending decision on the actions to take regarding the Texas crisis would cement his place in history and could alter the American landscape forever was not lost on President Johnson.

  It also wasn’t lost on the key political players exiting the room.

  Chapter 4

  “A democratic government is the only one in which those who vote for a tax can escape the obligation to pay it.”

  ~ Alexis de Tocqueville

  French Political Philosopher

  It was four o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon when Cliff Radford walked into the Oval Office. As usual, the president had both feet propped up on the historic maple desk that had been used by presidents dating back to Teddy Roosevelt. It was obvious that Johnson couldn’t care less about the historical significance of the desk.

  The president had an obvious streak of defiance in him his entire life. This was likely deep-rooted, inspired by a father who was a devout socialist and believed America and most of the West were imperialistic colonial provocateurs. His mother was a practicing communist.

  It was no wonder the president had little regard for any historic traditions surrounding the White House. About the only history the president endorsed was any history he could use or conveniently twist to propel his socialistic goals for America. It was common for Johnson to use quotes by Lincoln, FDR, Teddy Roosevelt or LBJ to his advantage; after all, those presidents were as responsible for a large centralized federal government taking root in America as all other administrations combined. In Johnson’s mind, he could be patriotic in his socialist reformation of the country.

  The president held his hand up to stop Radford from talking while he finished texting. He finally acknowledged his chief of staff by looking up.

  “Cliff, what the hell? It’s been more than forty-eight hours since I told Brooks to have a military option on my desk.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. President. I just got off the phone with his staff and they are ready to present a plan to you in two hours.”

  “Damn, Cliff, are you serious? You know I have a political action fundraiser tonight. This was supposed to already be on my desk.”

  “Sir, the meeting tonight is at your option and this is obviously critical. Do you want them here afterward tonight?”

  “No, not tonight. I believe we have some whales scheduled to stay in the Lincoln Bedroom tonight,”
commented the president, who referred to his major political donors in the same context Las Vegas casinos labeled large money gamblers. It wasn’t unusual for Johnson to trade access to the White House for large political donations.

  In his first term, these political exchanges were somewhat hidden. As his second term began, these trades became openly public, yet few complained that they violated election laws. The Democrats, in conjunction with the mainstream media, had become experts at demonizing anyone critical of Johnson’s administration for anything as racist. Few in the GOP were willing to expend the political capital to take on the administration because they could not rely on political cover and backing from the GOP establishment.

  Political correctness had become so prevalent that being called racist, whether true or not, was akin to or even worse than being branded a terrorist. Those who had been successfully branded with this moniker typically had their political careers damaged beyond repair.

  President Johnson and his administration were operating in a vacuum successfully created by their propaganda machine and a willing lapdog media. The fact that impeachment proceedings never got out of committee, despite the apparent conspiracy, signaled to all that Johnson was untouchable. It wasn’t the first time Johnson had seemed made of Teflon but, of all the scandals, the Sally investigation and Spilner deaths were the most serious.

  “I can have them here at seven in the morning. Your schedule is clear until 11:30.”

  The president looked at Radford like he had lost his mind. Many prior presidents were in the Oval Office very early each day. Eisenhower and Reagan were known to start their days in the Oval Office before 6:00 a.m. It was well-known and understood by his staff that this president’s schedule rarely started before 9:30 each morning.

  “No, have them here at 10:00 a.m.,” replied Johnson, who wasn’t about to reschedule a $25,000 per plate dinner fundraising event where those in attendance would willingly slobber all over their narcissistic commander-in-chief.

  “They will be there at 10:00 then, Mr. President.”

  The next morning, the Joint Chiefs, Radford, Kyler, Tibbs, Gould, McDermott and Smith assembled in the White House situation room, many of them arriving up to an hour before the appointed time.

  Noticeably missing was Annabelle Bartlett, who kept a scheduled meeting with the president of Uganda, who was visiting New York City ahead of meetings at the United Nations. Bartlett could have moved her schedule, but did not want her political future to include answering questions about the possibility of further bloodshed in Texas if the president and his cabinet decided to launch some type of military action. She also abhorred the idea of stopping Social Security checks and veterans’ benefits.

  At the previous meeting, Bartlett had purposely gone on the record for favoring a diplomatic approach to end the crisis. She wanted no part of this one.

  At 10:40 a.m., the president had still not made an appearance to the 10:00 meeting. This was another habit of this president, showing up late to his own meetings.

  A few minutes later, Johnson walked into the meeting accompanied by Ted Duncan. Without any apology or explanation, the president asked for a cup of coffee and sat at the head of the large conference table.

  “Okay, gentlemen, what’s your plan?” he asked.

  Secy. Brooks stood up and pulled over a presentation easel with numerous illustrations and maps sitting on it.

  “Mr. President, to get straight to the point, our proposed plan is to cut the snake’s head off, then take back the military bases. To do so, we have a plan to insert a DHS Tactical Assault team into Austin or wherever he may be to extract Gov. Cooper.”

  “Okay, but what about the other guys—the attorney general and that damned Texas Ranger?” asked Tibbs.

  “Well, sir, we know from intelligence that they’re moving each of them to a different location every day. The governor is not in the governor’s mansion. They believe this type of operation by us is likely so they are taking appropriate precautions.”

  “How do we know where to extract him from?” asked the president.

  “We still have law enforcement officials in Texas who are not in agreement with the current leadership. We’re getting reliable intelligence where Cooper is being held, almost on a daily basis.”

  “Again, what about the others?” pressed Tibbs.

  “Sir, in our plan, we extract Cooper, then secure the military bases. Cooper is the high-value target here. This will create confusion and will allow us to simultaneously take back the air bases.”

  “So you plan to swoop in and grab him, just like that?” asked Tibbs.

  “No, sir, this won’t be a cakewalk, but we expect the operation to have a high probability of success.”

  Brooks turned the floor over to DHS Director Sarah McDermott. McDermott, a former Democratic governor, had been a lightning rod for the GOP in her refusal to enforce immigration laws that eventually resulted in amnesty being granted to more than 15 million illegals in the first year after Johnson’s re-election.

  McDermott, a pudgy fifty-eight-year-old woman, was an outspoken lesbian activist with shortly cropped light brown hair with patches of gray. She never wore make-up or jewelry. Many Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers who did not like her referred to her as Director “Butch.” Adding fuel to that nickname, the director had not worn a dress a single day of her four years as director that anyone could remember.

  “The intelligence for this operation is being coordinated through my office with local law enforcement not sympathetic to Cooper. We, in turn, are passing this information to the Joint Chiefs. We are in place for support but, make no mistake, this will be led by the Joint Chiefs’ military choice for this operation.”

  “What are the risks?” asked Tibbs.

  “Without going into every detail, the quantitative risk is that the raid is unsuccessful and we lose team members,” replied five-star Gen. Miguel Herrera. The general had a distinguished career in the Marines and was now the first Hispanic chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Herrera was an unlikely choice to be chairman; however, Johnson wanted a Hispanic or other minority as his choice.

  A competent officer and administrator, Herrera had only been elevated to five-star status for two years, supplanting many senior and seasoned officers as choice for chairman. And, although Herrera was a capable administrator, his actual combat experience was much lighter than his predecessors, even to some who reported directly to him. His appointment was perceived as a purely political appointment within the military because Johnson made no effort to hide the reasons for his choice.

  The Johnson administration had successfully removed or replaced high-ranking military officials within each branch of service who did not agree with Johnson or whom administration officials believed did not advance the beliefs, goals and politics of the Johnson White House.

  “Goddamn it, General, no disrespect intended, but the presidency is at stake here, too,” blurted Avery Smith.

  “This operation must not fail. It needs to be foolproof,” added Johnson. “I mean, hell, if we can get Yasir Mahdi in Pakistan, extracting these cowboys out of Austin can’t be that damned hard, can it?”

  “Sir, the question comes in with engaging fellow Americans if that becomes necessary,” replied Herrera.

  “Gen. Herrera, these folks became criminals the minute they stepped on to Ellington Air Force Base to recover the Tea Party guy. They shot a federal agent. Then they killed eighteen in the Austin incident. They marched into federal office buildings and had the audacity to arrest ATF and FBI agents. Do you have a goddamned problem? Do your job!” ordered an angry Tibbs.

  “Sir…”

  “Sir, damn! I want you to make sure you remove anyone from this operation who is not sworn to it and who may have even an ounce of sympathy for Texas. Is that understood? There should not be a single Texan in your chain of command in this operation! I don’t care one damned bit about how loyal you think they are,” Tibbs said forcefully.<
br />
  “Yes, sir,” replied Gen. Herrera.

  “Go on,” said Johnson, looking a little bored, resting his chin in his hand.

  “Our recommendation is a night operation capture of Gov. Cooper at one of the revolving holding locations they rotate him to every day,” Herrera said. “We are not recommending extracting Pops Younger or any other state officials at this time. That is a multi-unit operation that increases the risks exponentially. Let’s get the high-value target first.”

  “Who would lead this, Seal Team Six?” asked Tibbs.

  “No, sir. We’re recommending a highly skilled, professional DHS Tactical Assault team,” answered Herrera.

  “Why not Seal Team Six?” asked Johnson. “They got Yasir Mahdi.”

  Herrera paused for a second, seemingly hesitant to answer the question.

  “Mr. President, Seal Team Six is predominately staffed by enlisted men and officers that hail from Texas,” Herrera said almost apologetically.

  The room went dead silent for a few uneasy seconds.

  “Well, goddamn,” said Johnson, turning to look off to the sky petulantly.

  “Mr. President, the DHS Tactical Assault team is completely capable. Also, they will likely see this as a way to honor and avenge the deaths that occurred at the Austin state capitol,” said Herrera.

  All in the room looked to the president for his reaction.

  “General, just so you understand the obvious, this mission cannot fail. Do you understand me, General?” Johnson leaned forward and repeated his question as he glared at his mission leader.

  “Mr. President, as you are well aware, there are no guarantees in an operation like this. We have the best minds in the business on it,” Herrera assured his commander-in-chief.

  “Give me a probability of success percentage, Gen. Herrera.”