A State of Treason

by David Thomas Roberts

  “But what if they don’t?” she demanded persistently.

  Younger was obviously irritated by the young reporter who asked questions that, in his mind, should be obvious. “Ma’am, I would say Texans are rather pissed off at this time. When you swat a hornet’s nest, ma’am, your best bet is to get the hell away from it.”

  “Will you meet with the president?” asked another reporter.

  Brahman stepped up to the podium. “We will consider it, but that offer has not been made by this administration.”

  “When a government recalls its ambassadors, isn’t that a prelude to war in most cases?” asked another.

  “Well, we don’t have ambassadors to speak of, only elected officials. I felt it necessary for all of Texas’ leadership to get on the same page as quickly as possible.”

  “What about the destruction of government property going on right now?” asked a CNN reporter.

  “I can definitely understand Texans’ outrage in general. Their very popular governor and his wife were just killed this morning. We aren’t condoning or encouraging the actions on federal buildings, but I understand the frustration of all Texans.”

  “Have law enforcement agencies been told to stand down regarding the protests that have resulted in the destruction of government and IRS offices?” followed up the same reporter.

  “I’ll let Pops Younger answer that question.” The governor stepped back as Pops again stepped forward.

  “We have been in contact with numerous city police and sheriff departments. The crowds have been large, and this happened so quickly that there wasn’t much they could do. These folks are very angry. When you have crowds of thirty or forty thousand and a few hundred police officers, there is a limit to what they can do. Since the protests have been solely focused on federal government buildings and not on businesses or other individuals, most have decided to let it run its course.”

  “You mean they are just standing by doing nothing?” asked a reporter from NBC.

  “Son, this president is responsible for the murder of the Texas governor. How do you expect Texans to react? What would you have us do?”

  “So you condone the violence?” the reporter pressed.

  News cameras caught several state legislators standing behind Pops shaking their heads, as if they thought, “Here we go. They are about to have Pops Younger in their faces….”

  “I’m a lawman, junior. It matters to these folks that their governor and his lovely first lady were murdered!” Younger said with authority. “They ain’t like the rest of the country, who are more concerned about a three-day vacation and the latest flavor at Starbucks. If Texans are out there protesting, it’s because they’re pissed off.”

  “Yes, but sir, Texans work at these places. We have reports the IRS Processing Center in Austin was completely destroyed.”

  With a slight smirk, Pops drawled, “Well, I’m sure a lot of Texans would tell you there’s a special place in hell reserved for all IRS employees, past and present.”

  The reporter had no idea how or what to say to Younger at that point.

  “How will Texas act if the United States government or military takes further steps in Texas?” asked a St. Louis Post Dispatch reporter.

  “Appropriately and disproportionally!” replied Pops.

  Knowing that Pops did not have a single ounce of political correctness in his bones, Brahman stepped back to the podium. “Nobody wants this to escalate any further, but make no mistake. On behalf of those standing behind me here, we will not continue to tolerate these unlawful attacks of any kind on Texas by this administration. I hereby ask all military and law enforcement, wherever you may be, to consider the constitutional basis in which you follow any orders by this president, especially when it comes to any actions against fellow citizens in Texas.”

  “What is your opinion of several countries calling for an emergency meeting of the United Nations Security Council?” asked a New York Times reporter.

  “I’m glad they recognize that a crisis exists. I am, however, skeptical of their ability to rein in this president. They haven’t been able to do it in other countries, failing to stop his drone attacks and direct military actions taken during his administration without the consent of Congress.”

  “Sir, the United States flag still flies over the capitol building tonight. Do you have any thoughts on that?” asked a Fox News reporter.

  “It’s up to this president and, ultimately, the citizens of Texas to determine whether it stays there.”

  Chapter 27

  “Those who begin coercive elimination of dissent soon find themselves exterminating dissenters. Compulsory unification of opinion achieves only a unanimity at the graveyard.”

  ~ Justice Robert H. Jackson (1892-1945)

  Associate Justice, U.S. Supreme Court

  Chuck and Christy Dixon were getting tired of constantly being on the move. Never sure if the feds were still after him, there was no denying that a federal arrest warrant for Chuck was still out there. They had mostly moved from house to house, being put up by Tea Party friends.

  Chuck tried to keep his business afloat after the events surrounding his rescue by Texas Rangers at Ellington Air Force Base. The IRS had locked down and frozen both his personal and business bank accounts. The last payroll checks that went out to twenty-eight employees bounced, as the IRS had even levied the payroll account. Chuck tearfully told his employees they needed to do whatever was necessary to support their families, as the federal government had obviously targeted him. Even his tax attorney and CPA claimed the IRS’s actions were unprecedented in their long tax careers. Chuck was simply on the administration’s enemy list.

  As traumatic as the events had been over the last few months, Christy felt like she and Chuck had grown closer. Being persecuted by your federal government causes you to close ranks, determine who your real friends are, and rely on each other. For the most part, they stayed in a friend’s one-bedroom apartment above a garage in the Houston suburbs. Colton slept on a sleeper sofa. He couldn’t attend school for obvious reasons, so Christy was homeschooling him.

  They all sat in the small apartment and watched the president’s speech from the Oval Office.

  “Liar!” Chuck exclaimed.

  “I know, honey, but stay calm,” Christy said with a calmness she didn’t have.

  “Damn, Christy, they killed the governor and his wife!”

  “Oh, my God!” shrieked Christy.

  “We knew they had him, but they didn’t have to kill him. Poor Lyndsey.”

  “Chuck, that could have been us!” said Christy.

  The governor had tried to talk Chuck and Christy into staying at the Swingin’ T with them. It was common knowledge that there was a federal warrant out for Chuck. He had become a hero of sorts to many Texans, and the governor liked to chat him up about current events. Both of the Dixons had known Lyndsey, the governor’s wife of forty years.

  “This is so sad,” Christy said, tears streaming down her face.

  “The stakes just went way up, baby. This is not good. This is likely to get much worse before it gets better.” Chuck pulled her closer to him in a spontaneous message of protection and love. “Johnson and Tibbs aren’t going to be content with killing just them. They’re going to want to punish Texas for the Blackhawks, for everything. He’s making a statement. The sad thing is that most of the country is falling for it. If there wasn’t proof before that America as we know it is lost, this is sure it.”

  “What’s going to happen next?” she asked.

  “Wait a sec; there’s a press conference in Austin!”

  They both watched as news coverage switched to Austin for the swearing in of Speaker Brahman as governor.

  “Gosh, you gotta love Pops!” said Christy.

  “Everybody loves Pops. I have a feeling things might have turned out a little different had Pops been at the Swingin’ T,” he replied. “I was told this was only the second night he wasn’t with the g
overnor at that ranch. Knowing him, he feels responsible.”

  Chuck began putting on his blue jeans and boots.

  “Where are you going?” Christy asked.

  “I have to meet up with Mitch, the sheriffs and some of the county coordinators tonight, then we have a 7:00 a.m. meeting. I just got a coded text message,” he said, referring to his temporary pre-paid cell phone.

  “Honey, please be careful. I’m scared to death of what’s going to happen.”

  “You’re safe here for now. We will likely need to change locations in the next couple of days. We’ve been here too long already,” he told her.

  “But I’m worried about you. You are a trophy to them. I’m not sure who would be higher on their list—you or Pops?”

  “Definitely Pops!” he chuckled.

  “Seriously, I…” Christy started to say, but she got quiet as Chuck pulled her closer, put a finger gently over her lips, then kissed her passionately.

  “I love you, baby, and I will be careful, but stay locked and loaded here,” he said, referring to a .38-caliber revolver given to them for protection by a fellow Tea Party member.

  Chuck eased his pick-up truck past the gate of the remote rice field west of Houston where he regularly met with fellow Tea Party organizers.

  Within twenty minutes, there were nearly thirty pick-up trucks parked along the south levee of the rice field. Sheriff Reeves, Mitch Lansford and Chuck stood on the tailgate of a truck to address the small gathering.

  Sheriff Reeves addressed the group first. “We all knew the Johnson administration was capable of this. The question is, what happens now? We have been preparing for months for this kind of scenario. You need to make sure your contingency plans are in place, your food stocks are good to go, and your weapons are functional. We can’t predict what this nut job has in store for us, but we would all be wise to expect the worst.”

  “Every time I think this administration and government can’t surprise me anymore, they pull a stunt worse than the previous one. My God, they killed the governor and his wife! Ladies and gentlemen, this is going to get worse before it gets better. The good news is that Texans are waking up in large numbers, as you saw yesterday and today. Our ranks will swell as we get the word out—neighbor to neighbor,” said Chuck.

  “What’s their next move, Chuck?” asked someone from the group.

  “I don’t see how they restore their sense of order without some type of military action, especially if the destruction of federal property continues. Johnson has totally lost control of the situation. I mean, what statesman in Washington has the clout to negotiate an end to this? There ain’t one,” replied Chuck.

  “We are headed to Austin after this meeting to meet with the legislature,” said the sheriff.

  “What is the status of the rest of law enforcement in Texas? Are they with us?” asked another member of the group.

  “Many are. Some are not. I can tell you the urban police departments are generally not sympathetic. They are mostly Democrats but, as you know with these folks, party loyalty comes before the Constitution. I believe this latest disaster will shake some out of their party loyalty,” said the sheriff.

  Mitch Lansford hadn’t said anything to the group yet, deferring to Chuck and Sheriff Reeves. Chuck felt Mitch was ready to say something. He glanced at Mitch standing on the truck’s tailgate in blue jeans and a Texas Longhorns t-shirt. In his mid-forties, Mitch looked younger. He certainly didn’t look the part of a leader who led hundreds of Tea Party followers, but he was an organizational genius. He was the key cog in bringing together hundreds of Tea Party organizations across all two hundred fifty-four counties in Texas and was instrumental in the rudimentary emergency communications network set up to foil the feds’ NSA-style eavesdropping.

  “Folks,” Mitch said, “the message everyone here should be taking back to their families, churches and organizations is that we are at the precipice, in my humble opinion. Either Texas or the federal government is going to blink, and it will set history forward for the next one hundred years.

  “Personally, this is our line in-the-sand moment. We either stand for what we know is right on behalf of our kids and grandchildren, or we have lost Texas, possibly forever. Texans are mad. If Texas falls in line politically with most of the country, it is over. I have a duty to them. I have a duty to Texas. Let’s not let the deaths at the Swingin’ T be forgotten. If they can kill our governor, they wouldn’t think twice about killing you, or you or your families!” he said convincingly as he pointed to individuals standing in the dirt surrounding the pick-up.

  “Will anyone outside of Texas stand up to them, or are we alone?” asked another.

  “I think we need to assume we are alone,” Chuck said. “If other states were going to intervene, they would have put pressure on their representatives to impeach. There is a lot of sympathy for us out there, but who knows how it will manifest itself if the feds try more drastic measures?”

  “What do you think the legislature will do tomorrow?” asked the same group member.

  “Nobody knows at this point.” Chuck shrugged.

  “There damn well better be a secession bill on the agenda!” yelled a large man standing furthest from the three men on the tailgate.

  “I expect that to be introduced. Politicians who were afraid to step out on this issue before will be hard pressed not to at least have it as an option. But let me warn everyone again. If an Independence bill comes up for a vote and passes, expect actions by Johnson and Tibbs to be stepped up considerably, both in level of force and how fast their reaction will be. God bless ya’ll, and God bless Texas,” shouted Chuck as he climbed down off the tailgate.

  “Texas!” shouted one.

  “Texas!” came another.

  The entire group spontaneously raised their hands into fists and yelled, “Texas!”

  Chapter 28

  “A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government.”

  ~ Edward Paul Abbey (1927-1989)

  American Author

  President Johnson sat in the White House situation room the next morning with Anna Bartlett, Avery Smith, Jamail Tibbs and the directors of DHS, the FBI, NSA, CIA and Gen. Herrera. At 11:00 the night before, the president asked his staff not to wake him. He had been getting updates from his staff about the surge on government facilities in Texas.

  The president finally awoke to the news that the Federal Reserve buildings in Dallas and Houston were surrounded by protesters. These facilities were heavily protected during normal times. The protesters had not been able to get close enough to either building to inflict any damage, but the crowds were growing.

  Five minutes before the meeting was to start, Johnson’s chief of staff informed him the Dow had plummeted twelve hundred points in the first few minutes of opening. Financial markets hate uncertainty, but they hate instability more. The Texas crisis was rocking financial markets across the globe. Oil, which was already at all-time highs due to the shut-down of oil exports to refineries outside Texas and the president’s quasi-embargo on Texas ports, shot up another nine dollars per barrel in early commodities trading.

  “As of 0900 Eastern Time this morning, Mr. President, it appears the IRS Processing Center in Austin is a total loss, completely gutted. Almost every major IRS office in Texas is badly damaged or destroyed. Six federal courthouses are heavily damaged, with two still burning. A total of thirty-seven other federal buildings are heavily damaged. The list includes offices of Homeland Security, Social Security Administration, even Department of Agriculture buildings in rural areas,” stated Sarah McDermott in her normal matter-of-fact tone.

  “So much for cutting the head off the snake,” said Smith, sarcastically referring to Atty. Gen. Tibbs’ theory that, if Gov. Cooper was arrested and somehow Texas was left leaderless, the federal government could bring the Texas crisis under control.

  “Well, it was never the plan to kill the son of a bitch,” retorted Tibbs,
who secretly couldn’t care less that the governor was dead.

  “Go to that feed up there!” yelled the president, pointing to one of the many TV screens streaming live coverage from multiple news channels.

  A San Antonio news station was at Breckenridge Hospital interviewing a new Texas hero, Lt. Cmdr. Danny Hendrix, as he lay in bed with a maroon Texas Aggie ball cap on.

  Standing next to his bed was another new Texas hero and fellow Texas Air Guard pilot, Cmdr. “Tex” Parsons. Hendrix had a broken collarbone and separated shoulder, but he was all smiles as the reporter interviewed them both. Hospital personnel crowded next to the bed to get in pictures with both men. There was even a crowd outside the room in the hallway as more staff and even some patients clamored for pictures and autographs with the two handsome pilots. Both recounted the episode from forty-eight hours prior.

  “Is there anything we can do to a Texan where the rest of Texas doesn’t make a damned hero of him? Tell me. Anything?” asked Smith disgustedly.

  “I don’t know how we could have screwed this up any worse,” commented Secy. Bartlett.

  “Well, what the hell were you doing there without the president’s blessing anyway?” Tibbs demanded in an accusatory tone.

  “Tibbs, this cluster you-know-what has your fingerprints all over it. Now the president and the rest of us have to figure out how to salvage what could have been a peaceful and workable solution,” retorted Bartlett, shaking her finger in Tibbs’ face.

  Tibbs was incredulous. “You know, you could have been at that damned ranch when we hit them. That could be you in a body bag instead of the cowboy,” Tibbs shouted, standing up and returning her finger with a clenched fist.

  “I’m not stupid, Tibbs. This crisis has been going on for months, and the day that I finally get a meeting set to negotiate an end to this, you launch this poorly planned strike. Did you even for one minute examine the possibility that you would kill him? Well, did you?” she yelled back, her sarcastic glance ripping over Tibbs and Herrera.