A State of Treason

by David Thomas Roberts

  The White House received the news that Austin, San Antonio, Houston and Dallas polling places were secured for the governor. DHS, the FBI, ATF and various other agencies that had seen weaponry build-up in the Johnson administration had been turned back or defeated at the hands of the Texas Guard, Texas Militia, volunteer militia from out of state, and Tea Party volunteers.

  Without military intervention, Johnson’s strategy was failing. Even the police departments in Texas friendly to the administration were neutered simply by overwhelming numbers or the lack of fortitude.

  Now, Texans who had no plans to vote in the special election were either inspired or compelled to cast their ballots by the actions of the Johnson administration. By late afternoon, Texans were overwhelming polling places wherever they could find them.

  The wheels were coming off for Johnson, Smith and Tibbs. Johnson and his minions had doubled-down on their bet that they could scare the people of Texas away from the polls. Their strategy was backfiring.

  But they had one last option…

  Chapter 52

  “... and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do.”

  ~ The United States Declaration of

  Independence, 1776

  The finger-pointing in the situation room over the apparent failure to stop the election in Texas was brutal, as blame was being dished out to everyone by the president. He suddenly realized the debacle that had become the Texas crisis was a very real and present danger for his presidency.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, whatever your contingency plan was, it better be implemented now. Despite all of your plans, these yahoos just had an election!” said the president sarcastically.

  “Mr. President, we have our people in place,” answered Gen. Herrera.

  “Is this Seal Team Six?” asked the president.

  “No, sir. This is a crack team of U.S. Army Special Forces that is fully capable,” answered Herrera.

  DHS Director McDermott cringed. She knew Johnson’s next question was coming.

  “Why not Seal Team Six? They have been successful at every mission we have given them,” he asked.

  “Sir, Seal Team Six has a very high concentration of native Texans,” Herrera answered quickly.

  “Does everyone understand this is our last shot to shut down and take control of this illegal election?” snapped Johnson, who looked like he had aged ten years in the span of one day.

  “Failure is not an option here. Everyone better fully understand that,” said Avery Smith who, more than anyone, knew the political damage the president was suffering today. He knew the failure to stop Texas’ election after this much effort could be a failure the president could not survive politically.

  * * *

  “Pops, General, what are your thoughts here?” asked the governor. “It’s been several hours since we have seen any new developments from them. Surely this morning’s failures aren’t sitting well in the White House!”

  “It would appear the military options are gone. Reports are surfacing everywhere that the Joint Chiefs were arrested. Johnson’s military leadership is in revolt. The word I’m getting from my contacts who are career military is there is a total breakdown in the chain of command, morale is low and there is some paralysis regarding which orders to follow,” said Brig. Gen. Sterling.

  “Are we safe then from that threat?” asked Brahman.

  “We need to remain on guard, but I’m optimistic,” answered the general.

  “Pops, you are standing over there with something on your mind. What do you think?” asked the governor.

  “I think those damned folks are evil. I just believe he’s got one more ace somewhere,” announced Younger.

  “What do you think it is?”

  “Well, he obviously can’t stop the election. The polls close in two hours. That bird flew the coop about one today.” Pops spit some chew into a paper cup, then rubbed his large, bushy handlebar mustache with his sleeve.

  “What would he do now?” asked Weaver with a curious look on his face.

  “If the sum’ bitch can’t stop it, he’ll probably try to steal it,” suggested Pops.

  Nobody knew exactly what Pops meant at first.

  “How would someone go about stealing this election?” asked the governor.

  “It’s too late to alter the outcome. The votes will all be cast in less than two hours,” Sterling remarked.

  Everyone turned back to Pops, who seemed to be enjoying everyone’s puzzled look.

  “Well, if’n it were me, I’d just steal the damn thing,” Pops said again.

  “Okay, Pops, how’s he going to do this?” repeated the governor.

  “He can’t stop it. So my bet is he tries to steal the results,” answered Pops, followed by another spit of tobacco into his cup.

  Still, not everyone in the situation room got it for a few seconds.

  “Holy crap, Governor. He’s right!” shrieked Weaver as he jumped to his feet.

  “Somebody please share with us how he would do this. I still don’t get it,” said Brahman, who was becoming slightly anxious.

  “Where is the central collection point to tally all votes from the precincts? It’s on Brazos Street two blocks from here at the secretary of state’s offices!” answered Weaver.

  “They’re gonna steal the ballots? Most of the voting is with electronic machines? I don’t get it,” pressed the governor.

  “They’ll either take the systems or destroy them onsite,” said Weaver.

  “What good will that do them? The results are still stored at the precinct level,” said the governor.

  “It will either be covert, through the NSA, or they will attempt to physically take down the systems onsite,” said Sterling.

  It didn’t take too much explanation for the governor to react. He immediately turned to his staff. “Do not have the precincts report as normal. We need to come up with another reporting method. We need to assume the NSA has hacked the secretary of state’s systems. We don’t have much time. The central repository for votes needs to be changed. Does everyone understand what I am stating here? Pops, what else do we need to do?”

  “Well, sir, knowing that Tibbs is a vindictive little sum’ bitch, I would say he is either going to take one last run at you, or us in here, or he’s going to think the election results will be counted there on Brazos,” surmised Younger.

  * * *

  Sixteen U.S. Army Rangers and four CIA operatives had made their way into Texas dressed as oilfield workers, with heavy trucks and equipment that appeared to be headed to the south Texas oilfields.

  Poised forty-five minutes northeast of Austin near Taylor, Texas, the elite unit had been onsite for three days and were being hosted by a small rancher friendly to the administration. At 6:00 p.m., four heavy trucks were headed down the caliche ranch road to the gate, throwing up a large column of white dust, and headed for Austin.

  The polls closed as planned at 7:00 p.m. Texas had its election, but at a price. Casualty reports were still fluid and the non-stop coverage of the special election by worldwide news organizations was entering a new stage.

  The day’s events brought new concerns to America. The fact that Texas had apparently succeeded in having an election despite the administration’s efforts to prevent it made the president look weak and foolish. Now, reports of his Joint Chiefs being arrested created all kinds of potential problems. Intense speculation ran the gamut of: Was there an attempted coup? Why would the executive branch arrest its sitting Joint Chiefs? It was looking more and
more like Washington was operating like a Banana Republic.

  World leaders were denouncing the day’s events and more than one expressed deep concern that Texas now possessed the Minuteman nuclear silos near Abilene.

  In D.C., the political rats began jumping ship mid-day. There were new calls for impeachment by Republicans. Many Democrats were disavowing the strategy to bring Texas in line publicly, but behind the scenes had been solidly behind the president.

  Poll watchers from the United Nations and other countries were quick to point out that the only anomalies in the election were caused by the administration and that Texas carried out the election fairly but crudely, due to the circumstances it was put in.

  Throughout the day, media outlets continued to show the video or picture of Chuck Dixon propped against the concrete planter with the bloody Lone Star Flag stitched with “1789.”

  Of the countless interviews across the state by the media, it was apparent that this single event may have turned the tide in the election turn-out. Many Texans claimed to be concerned about the president’s edicts, but the attempt to forcefully prevent the vote clearly angered them. If that wasn’t enough to get them to risk voting, the death of Chuck Dixon enraged them.

  The world anxiously awaited voting results. By 8:00 p.m., a full hour after the polls had closed everywhere in Texas except El Paso, neither the governor’s office nor the secretary of state’s office had released any vote tabulations.

  * * *

  Four large oilfield service trucks were parked within two blocks of the five-story Texas Secretary of State building on Brazos Street in Austin, which was two blocks from the capitol building.

  The offices were fully lit, with a hub of activity inside, and DPS troopers stood guard at each of the three entrances. But there was nothing that looked daunting to the Special Forces unit. Their mission was simple. Enter the building and destroy all the voting records, computers, communications lines, servers and turn the building to rubble.

  Much like other scandals of this administration, Tibbs, Smith and the president believed they were fully capable of controlling any resulting message through the media and that message would be that the Texans destroyed its own records to cover up the fact that the referendum vote had failed. There was a follow-up plan by the administration to deal with each county and precinct votes, and it was diabolical.

  Suddenly, gunfire erupted just north of the capitol grounds. As DPS and Rangers rushed to the scene, Texas Guard troops were celebrating and high-fiving each other. In the street lay a large drone about the size of a riding lawn mower, with a DHS emblem barely legible in the twisted metal. The drone had been shot down by Guard troops from a nearby rooftop.

  The burnt orange sunset to the west of Austin had finally sunk into darkness as the Special Forces unit readied themselves and got into their gear in the large trucks. The navigation officer indicated he had lost communication with the drone for some reason. They checked their weapons, communications systems, night vision and ammo supplies. They had received word from Langley. The president was concerned election results would begin being broadcast. Drone or no drone, it was go time.

  The plan was for the trucks to circle the block, each truck to stop at one of the four corners on the block and take out any DPS or Texas Guard, then enter the building, move employees to a central area out of the building, then take out the systems, set the charges and evacuate. This was supposed to take all of eighteen minutes.

  The lead truck started his diesel engine, confirmed the other three trucks were ready, and turned his headlights on.

  The Army captain who was driving the truck looked through the front windshield as he was about to put the truck in gear.

  “What the h…“ he muttered as the rest looked forward.

  “Who the hell is that?” said another in a loud whisper.

  Standing in the headlights was a figure right out of a Larry McMurtry novel.

  Illuminated by dim street lamps and the headlights of the truck was a tall, lean man with a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, twin holsters with a western blazer pulled back to reveal two Colt .45s with pearl handles.

  Pops Younger was standing in front of the truck, less than twenty yards away, smoking a huge cigar!

  Pops drew a large intake from the cigar and let out a large billow of smoke as he spread his feet apart shoulder width as if ready to drop his cigar and draw down on the truck in a heartbeat with both revolvers.

  “Is that that damn cowboy from the Laredo bridge?” asked a lieutenant.

  “Arrow One, what’s the delay?” came the radio message in the ears of the front truck.

  “We have a problem,” said the captain.

  In the same instant, the four trucks became bathed in spotlights coming from all directions, including the roof tops of other buildings as Texas Guard troops, appearing out of nowhere, rushed in and surrounded the trucks at gun point..

  “We’ve been made. Radio Langley. Mission aborted,” snarled the captain.

  Pops continued to stay at the same spot, determined to finish his cigar, as he was being fully entertained by the scene in front of him. The Guard emptied the trucks as the Army Rangers and CIA operatives surrendered.

  Finally, Pops walked over to the men who were shackled and lined up against the trucks.

  “Which one of you Yankee boys is the communications officer?”

  “I am,” said the shortest one in the unit, who was barely 5’6.”

  “Well, you’re a little sawed-off sum’ bitch, ain’t ya?” laughed Pops. “Who ya’ll reportin’ to, son?” he asked.

  “Langley, sir,” came the reply.

  “Well, son, git them boys on the line for me,” Pops instructed.

  A Guardsman brought out his headset, and released the prisoner’s handcuffs. The officer connected with Langley and handed the headset to Pops. Pops looked at the headset, not sure what to do with it. He wasn’t about to take his cowboy hat off to use it.

  “Does this contraption have a speaker?” he asked.

  The officer reached over and flipped a switch to a speaker position.

  “Hello, Arrow One, do you copy? This is Langley,” said the voice from the speaker.

  “Howdy, up there in Langley. This is Pops Younger with the Texas Rangers. We’ve got your boys here. They seem to be involved in some type of malfeasance. We need some type of forwarding address so we can send their personal effects,” said Pops.

  For a brief moment, there was no response.

  “This is the Assistant Director of the CIA. What is your intent with these men?” he asked.

  “Well, sir, in Texas, we used to hang people for stealing horses or cattle. I can’t say I’m quite up to speed on the law for someone trying to steal an election, but I’m sure they’ll git what’s comin’ to ’em,” Pops said in his unmistakable Texas drawl.

  “Sir…”

  “Son, can you git a message to the president?” asked Pops.

  “Well, yes, I can…”

  “Can you get these instructions exact, by God?”

  “Yes, I’m writing this down.”

  “Tell him this,” said Pops. “Tell him this exactly.”

  “Tell him what?”

  “Don’t mess with Texas, ever!”

  * * *

  At ten minutes before midnight, Gov. Brahman walked to a crowded podium in the historic rotunda of the Texas State Capitol.

  “Today is a historic day for Texas. Despite cowardly federal military incursions by the federal government of the United States, orchestrated by the president and attorney general, Texas held a free election.

  “It is also a sad day for America. Today the world witnessed modern-day tyranny by a government that no longer considers the Constitution the sacred document it is and a general populace that has lost the sense of who they are as a country.”

  Brahman now appeared to be fighting back tears.

  “I am also sad to report that Texans lost their lives today simply try
ing to conduct a free election or by simply standing in line to cast their ballots.

  “Today, 189 fellow Texans lost their lives. Despite the threats from this president, they risked everything simply to exercise their God-given right to cast a ballot in a free election in what is supposed to be a Constitutional Republic,” decried Brahman as he struggled, tears rolling down his cheeks.

  A small murmur went through the huge throng of supporters crammed into the rotunda.

  “And, yes, that number is significant and should not be lost on anyone. That is the same number attributed to the brave Texians who died that March day in 1836 at the Alamo. We shall never forget either sacrifice.

  “Before I disclose the vote totals, I want to reiterate that poll watchers from the U.N. and numerous countries participated in this election when they weren’t being shot at by federal agents. None reported, let me repeat, none reported any irregularities. They also participated in the tabulation of the ballots,” claimed the governor.

  Taking a deep breath, Brahman built up the drama. “With one hundred percent of the precincts reporting and all votes tabulated, the referendum passed with a vote of 78 percent to 22 percent,” he announced proudly.

  The rotunda erupted in chaos. Cheers went up as reporters tried to exit the rotunda to get the news out to the world. Brahman tried to continue, but the next four minutes made it impossible.

  Finally, the governor continued. “This vote is a resounding message to me and the Texas Legislature. Tomorrow, I will call another special session of the Legislature to formulate and draft terms of separation with the United States. The people of Texas will have one more opportunity to vote and approve these final terms of separation,” explained Brahman.

  Again, the governor was interrupted by cheers, reporters asking questions, and noise in the rotunda.

  “This vote should also be a resounding message to the rest of the United States. This is simply the will of the people of Texas. We will not succumb to outdated and incorrect interpretations of law regarding the right of Texans to abolish their current form of government and establish what works for them. I would encourage Americans everywhere to work to fix Washington and not to fixate on Texas,” Braymer said defiantly.