Stolen Liberty: Behind the Curtain

by Thomas A. Watson

  “I put Cheesehead on it,” Charlie replied. “I’ve gotta go, brother, but watch the idiot box for signs and let Cobra know. They are coming for us, and everyone like us.”

  That last bit might have been too clear of a reference, but Charlie was counting down the seconds before a squad of black SUVs came barreling into his parking lot. Next, he found the number for Bert Travis and got his voicemail. Travis had moved back to Tampa and had gradually taken over his Dad’s charter boat business after he’d gotten out of the hospital, and they all still kept in touch. Mainly Christmas and birthday cards for Bert’s kids, but they’d remained tight. In fact, Kristi saw him and his family the last time she’d gone down to see her folks in St. Petersburg.

  Like with Randy, Charlie gave Bert a heads-up warning, giving him a shorthand version of the day’s revelations. Whether Bert was in any position to utilize the warning, Charlie had no idea, but he felt the need to try. The ties of blood bound them together after all.

  With those vital chores out of the way, Charlie threw himself into getting out of the house. He knew someone would be coming, and after he’d heard the fate of his friend Bryce, Charlie wasn’t going to give them a chance to take him without a fight. He might die, but he wasn’t going to go quietly.

  Phone calls done for the moment, Charlie focused the next few minutes on packing up his firearms and loading as many duffel bags as he owned with the extra ammunition in his safe. Unlike Randy or Robbie, Charlie wasn’t as eclectic in his firearm collection, plus he kept most of his hunting rifles at the retreat so he only needed three trips up and down the internal stairs to the garage to stow his rifles and shotguns in the trailer.

  The SASS would be of little use if the stormtroopers charged his front door, but he did keep out the extended magazine Mossberg and his two personal defense pistols, a Glock 21 and a Glock 30, both chambered in the popular 45 ACP. The pistols, like the shotgun, were nothing fancy, but they functioned properly and he’d used them enough to be comfortable with, should their need arise.

  Thirty seconds was all he needed. He was thirty seconds from heading out, when he heard the front doorbell. Checking the closed-circuit camera, he had mounted on the porch, Charlie was dismayed to see it was three uniformed officers waiting at the entryway. Well, three that he could see, along with two City police cars.

  Slipping the smaller pistol into his waistband at the small of his back, Charlie placed the Glock 21 on the hallway table out of sight of the door. No matter what, Charlie resolved that he would not be going peacefully. No. He would try to talk his way out of a confrontation, but if the Powers-That-Be wanted to put him in a camp or silence his voice, Charlie would retreat no further. He had little doubt that Bryce and Rodger were already dead and if he was next, he would take a toll before he fell.

  Bracing to the side of the door, Charlie took a moment to center himself. He wasn’t exactly quelling his nerves so much as preparing his central nervous system for a sudden spike in adrenaline. Adrenaline was fine for a knight fighting with a sword or shield, but that same extra boost could throw off one’s aim in a gunfight. He needed ice water in his veins as he prepared to mete out sudden death. Be the Ranger, he reminded himself.

  “Yes, sir?” Charlie asked as he swung the door open, and his scarred face tried to mimic surprise while he scrutinized the trio of officers standing on his elevated porch. Wearing navy blue uniforms with a red and yellow flash on one sleeve, the three men seemed to lean forward aggressively as the heavy metal door swung out.

  Charlie recognized one of the men immediately from the shooting range, a corporal named Scroggins, and quickly realized Corporal Scoggins was the senior of the three officers, though the man on the end looked to be at least a half a decade older.

  “Are you Charles Tucker?” Scoggins asked, though from the flash of recognition when he saw Charlie, the question really didn’t need to be answered given the lawyer’s distinctive look. Scoggins might as well have been wearing a neon billboard that proclaimed he wished he wasn’t here.

  “Yes, sir, I am. What can I do for you gentlemen today?”

  Charlie remained calm, which seemed to relax the younger two men, but the officer on the end, a patrolman whose nameplate read Domeni, visibly tensed at Charlie’s calm words.

  “Mr. Tucker, I have a warrant for your arrest,” Corporal Scoggins continued and again, Charlie saw the man’s lips curl in an unconscious expression of disgust as he spoke.

  “On what charges?” Charlie inquired, his voice steady and his body visibly relaxed, which seemed to unnerve the officers.

  “You don’t need to know, dumbass,” Domeni practically snarled as he took a step forward, one hand on his holstered pistol, and the other reaching for the handcuffs. “Just get out here, so we can get this done.”

  All the slack in Charlie’s body went taut, but he focused most of his attention on the corporal.

  “Corporal, you know what I do for a living,” Charlie said, feigning patience and blinking his eyes lazily. “You also know I was a prosecutor for several years. Before we go one step further, I want to see this so-called warrant. I want to see what the State of Ohio, or the City of Parma, has seen fit to charge me with today.”

  “Mr. Tucker, this isn’t the city, or the state,” Scoggins said ruefully. “This is from the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Ohio. It’s the feds, Mr. Tucker. She’s gotten a federal judge to issue a warrant for your arrest.”

  “And I am still waiting to see this alleged warrant, Corporal,” Charlie continued, his faked good nature wearing thin. “What is the charge?”

  Instead of speaking further, Scoggins extended a sheaf of papers towards Charlie, and the lawyer reached out cautiously to accept the documents with his left hand. Charlie, purposefully, had shed his black gloves and left them by the door, exposing his twisted and bent hand as he grasped the pages.

  As Charlie took the warrant, Patrolman Domeni started forward at a lunge, handcuffs already out. Charlie, flicking his eyes at the older man, simply stated, “You take one more step onto my private property, Patrolman, in furtherance of these trumped-up and false charges, and I promise, you won’t be able to get a job guarding the Claw Machine in the lobby of a Bob Evans.”

  “Why, you skinny little cripple,” Domeni started, but Scoggins didn’t let him finish.

  “Shut it, Phil,” the corporal barked. “You know I don’t like…”

  “Corporal Scoggins,” Charlie said, taking the few seconds he had to scan the documents. “I can’t find anything here authorizing this action. There’s no charge, and there’s nothing under Ohio law authorizing your office to take any action. This isn’t anything like a valid warrant. It is defective on its face.”

  “Mr. Tucker,” Scoggins replied with a sigh. “Apparently the President has signed a series of Executive Orders recently, directing the apprehension and detention of certain individuals. That there,” Scoggins pointed helpfully to the last page of the document, “are the relevant Executive Orders pertaining to this action. This one is supported by a Presidential Finding, declaring the NRA a terrorist organization.”

  “On what basis? Contrary to what some people might think, Executive Orders aren’t the word of God. They’ve been successfully challenged in Federal Court. And I still don’t know why you are trying to take me into custody. The NRA has millions of members.”

  “Mr. Tucker, it’s about the guns,” Scoggins finally said, his sigh deeper this time. “Like I said, the President has signed an Executive Order labeling certain groups to be…well, enemy combatants, I guess that’s the term. You are on the list because of your membership in the National Rifle Association, and well, because of other factors.”

  “He’s one of them crazies,” Domeni helpfully volunteered. “They have you down as a nut job from your time at the VA, Tucker. Now, can we quit this debating club and get to work? We got a lot more names on that list, and the paddy wagon should be here soon.”

  Charlie fe
igned surprise at this news, but in reality, he wasn’t. Heck, Charlie realized, the VA records were probably why the Powers-That-Be sent local cops instead of the FBI, or a strike team made up of Marshals. He was considered to be 100% disabled by the review board, after all.

  “Gentlemen.” Charlie said, “I don’t know what is going on, but I do support the local law enforcement. I worked closely with the city and county when I was a prosecutor, so listen closely to what I am about to tell you. This is an illegal warrant, and it has been improperly issued. It is also, frankly, insane. This violates Article 1 Section 4 of the Ohio Constitution which all three of you have been charged with protecting, and so many other state and federal laws, I don’t even know where to begin.

  “This piece of paper violates both the United States v. Heller on federal grounds under the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, McDonald v. Chicago on the state side, and on Fourth Amendment grounds under unreasonable search and seizure as defined by Jacobsen. I take it that once I’ve been illegally detained, you officers plan to tear my house apart to seize the legally purchased hunting rifle Corporal Scoggins has seen me sighting in down at the range?”

  That seemed to strike a nerve with both Scoggins and the other younger officer, whose nameplate Charlie had yet to make out. Domeni just seemed to grow more agitated and Charlie turned to confront him yet again.

  “Doesn’t this seem off, Patrolman? Wrong? It’s almost like somebody wants violence to erupt in the streets. Not from me,” Charlie added hastily, “but there’s always that guy, right? That whack job who wants to fight it out in the street? So you officers are stuck with a no-win situation and the politicians aren’t going to end up in prison when this all goes pear-shaped, are they? No, it will be you and these other officers, who end up in Marion, or Elkton if you are lucky.”

  The mention of those facilities, the Maximum-Security Penitentiary in Marion, IL or even the Club Fed facility in Elkton, Ohio, seemed to change even Domeni’s tune.

  “So, what are you proposing?”

  “You never saw me. Leave my crippled ass here while I draft a motion to be filed in Federal Court today,” Charlie answered plainly. “I’m a fairly well-known local, ties to the community and all that, but after working for years as a prosecutor, I don’t want to be locked up with some of the scum I’ve already sent through the revolving door. Let me work with you to get this straightened out, before we have another Dallas on our hands.”

  Scoggins seemed to make a decision at that point.

  “Men, stand down. Porter,” he said, turning to the younger cop slightly behind him, “go tell Marcos we are headed back to the house for now. This is bullshit. And Domeni, stick a sock in it.”

  “What about you, Corporal?”

  “I’m going to have a word with Mr. Tucker,” Scoggins replied blandly over his shoulder as the other two cops reluctantly clattered down the stairs and back to their squad cars.

  “Any of that bullshit you just spun out true, Charlie?” Scoggins asked, and this time his voice sounded tired. He didn’t even blink when Charlie stuck the detention order in his back pocket.

  “Oh yeah, Tommy. Most of it. And it really is illegal as shit, what they are doing. Those feds are going to get you and your men shot full of holes, and then they will call in the helicopter gunships to fire up the mess you leave behind,” Charlie replied.

  Though they’d pretended not to know each other that well, Tommy Scoggins and Charlie had spent more than one afternoon shooting the breeze at the clubhouse attached to the indoor range they both frequented. Charlie knew Tommy had done four years in the Marine Corps, including a tour in Iraq, before starting his career in law enforcement.

  “Can you get out of town in thirty minutes?” Tommy asked softly, after glancing down to make sure his body camera was turned off.

  “I was headed out the door when you showed up,” Charlie answered honestly. “I got a tip.”

  “What about fighting it out in the courts?” Tommy asked, surprised by the lawyer’s response.

  “That was the tip, Tommy. They’ve already fixed the courts. All of them on the federal level, I think. Anyone who doesn’t toe the new party line is taken out back, and the stormtroopers give them two behind the ear.”

  “Jeez, seriously?”

  Charlie nodded. That was almost a given, with the information he’d received. If they were willing to kill a court coordinator in broad daylight, he had no doubt the threat to judges was sincere.

  “Tommy, you need to start planning your own exit strategy. You got a wife and kids to think about. They seriously targeted me for my membership in the NRA? And because I am a vet? Well, guess what, buddy, they know you fit in the same category. Actually, I was expecting the Men in Black when my doorbell rang.”

  “What would you have done? I mean, if it was FBI or the Marshals?”

  When Charlie gave Tommy his dead-eyed scowl, Tommy had his answer.

  “I just cannot believe this is happening in our country, Charlie. Not the country we fought for, and so many of our friends died to protect. What the hell is going on?”

  “Tommy, I think we’ve been sold out, and maybe we’ll eventually find out the reason why, and maybe not. All I can tell you is this all started with the new Safe Water Bill, Congress just passed. But the why runs deeper, and I fear the true cause will tear this country apart.”

  “Over water? Seriously? Hey, we all want clean drinking water. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Charlie nodded. “Why go after the guns and the gun owners, if all you are trying to do is make the drinking water safe? That’s like protesting because the stores are full of food. Well, maybe in California,” Charlie said, unable stop himself from taking the jab. “But there is another agenda at work.”

  “Well, hell, Charlie. I wish…well, you need to get out of here and I need to corral these boys before they get me killed. That Domeni, what a piece of work. Been busted down from sergeant twice already. You’d think I was back in the Corps.”

  “Semper fi, Marine,” Charlie said in parting as he stepped back inside the door.

  “Rangers lead the way,” Tommy replied, his voice nearly a whisper.

  Charlie was sweating despite the cool afternoon air, and he palmed the Glock from the hallway table as he walked by. Despite what he’d told Tommy, he was more like two minutes from lift-off instead of thirty seconds but felt the need to call Bert again and let him know he was probably on the list as well. So Charlie left another message, passing on the new warning, and hung up. He’d done all he could on that end and the clock was almost out of time.

  Looking around, Charlie wanted to run through the kitchen for some food and drinks before he hit the road. Not just for the trip, but for the days and weeks to come. Who knew when he would have a chance to stock up again?

  And he wanted to bring extra food, because he did have one stop before leaving town. He needed to see Joan one last time, and if she would listen to reason, he planned to have her riding with him. He knew Kristi and Lena would love having more female company at the retreat. Plus, if he was being targeted and Bryce and Rodger were dead, would Joan be subjected to scrutiny after the fact? She worked for the Federal Courts after all, and could be a target too, if they were looking for leaks.

  Really, now she was in his life, he didn’t want to try continuing to survive without her. Survive? No, he could survive, but he might not be really living.

  He dialed the phone one last time and despite everything, he had to smile when he heard Joan’s voice on the phone.

  Joan, for her part, knew something was wrong as soon as she heard Charlie’s voice, but Joan Norgren was more than just a pretty face, so she played along as Charlie asked a question she knew was completely out of character.

  “Do I want to go see your family? In Loraine?” she bubbled into the handset of her phone. “Why, of course. Since I’ve got the day free anyway, that sounds wonderful. Just come by and pick me up.”

  “I
’ll be there in half an hour,” Charlie promised as he disconnected the call.

  Barely thirty minutes had elapsed before she found her friend waiting at the front door of her apartment. He still looked tense, but there was also a sense of barely suppressed aggression that seemed out of place for the normally easy-going attorney.

  “That was fast,” Joan said, by way of greeting, “but I’m ready for a visit to the wilds of Loraine.”

  “We’re not going there,” Charlie said sharply, and stepped through the door without waiting for an invitation. Joan started to say something, then stopped abruptly.

  “What happened?”

  Charlie looked around and spied her cell phone laying on the counter of the kitchen bar. Moving quickly, he pried loose the hard plastic cover and adeptly popped out the battery and SIM card before answering.

  “You remember my friends, Bryce and Rodger?”

  Joan nodded numbly, watching Charlie disable her phone and her stomach suddenly cramped up in knots of trepidation as Charlie spoke.

  “They’re most likely both dead. If not, they’re being drained of information at this very moment by some very bad men. So, I need to move and fast. I think…I don’t know, but I suspect you might be in danger as well.”

  “Come with me if you want to live,” Joan deadpanned in a terrible Arnold impersonation, and Charlie had to bite back a surprised laugh.

  “Man, Joan, that was…”

  “Impressive?”

  “Terrible,” he completed the sentence, but sensed the tension in the room dropped a bit.

  “Seriously, Joan, this is very bad. I just had a friendly city cop come by with a bill of attainder with my name on it.”

  Joan blanched. A bill of attainder was something out of the pre-Revolutionary War era and was right up there with things the U.S. Constitution forbade. A bill of attainder was a legislative act that stripped a person or group of all civil rights and all property without trial.