The Land of the Free

by TJ Tucker

  “So who’s invading America?” asked Jess. “The young guy at the hotel said the North Koreans owned San Marcos.”

  “José doesn’t know nothing,” said Luis. “It’s the story that’s going around on Contadora, but who knows if it’s true.”

  “The North Koreans can’t afford to rent a hammock on the beach,” said Lyle. “The people we saw were Orientals, but all the signs point to China. You mentioned the possibility in Montreal, Jess, but I didn’t want to believe it. Yet it’s the only one that works with the facts we’ve seen. They export in huge quantities to the US, and they have the money and resources to mount an invasion. The US is a problem for them in so many ways that it’s not inconceivable they would do this. The Chinese are borrowing a tactic from the Greeks who faced an unconquerable Troy. They let the Trojans import the invading army inside the statue of a horse, who then unlocked the gates for the whole army that followed.”

  “But how do you ship people in those containers?” asked Jess. “They’d be locked in there for days, even up to a week.”

  “The warehouse I visited was full of shipping containers in the process of being converted from cargo to human transport. They started with refrigerated containers, the kind normally used to ship fruits and vegetables. Then they had bunks and toilets installed. I suspect they’ll be fitted with water also. There were other containers with caches of small arms. Their plan will probably be to unload the containers in the major ports, which are in or near most major cities.”

  “Senor, there are gringos on San Marcos too. Do you know who they are?”

  “That would be Morningstar Security. They’ve been the point men on this whole affair from the beginning. Our story started with Jess’ dad being killed trying to find out what was happening on San Marcos. We think Morningstar killed him to cover up what he’d learned about the operations down there. It only figures that they would have their people on the scene to keep things moving smoothly.”

  Jess looked puzzled. “They can’t get away with this. There are major military bases near every port in the country. They’ll never get outside the port complex before they’re all killed.”

  “Senorita, there’s nobody in those bases. Your armies and all their planes and guns are all over the world. They’re everywhere but in America.”

  Lyle interrupted. “Luis is right, our armies are far-flung. Between Taiwan, the Persian Gulf, South Korea and our forces in Japan and Europe, there’s nothing left back home. It’s well known that the jets that fly around at the home bases are never the best ones and are rarely, if ever, armed. The small arms I saw being loaded were more than enough to fight off the few soldiers that can be mobilized, and that’s probably less than the police SWAT teams in those cities.”

  Their discussion was interrupted by a passing helicopter that made several passes over the area. They stopped talking, as though they were afraid of being heard. It was unnerving to hear it but not see it. It seemed like it was circling in the area for a good five minutes before then it left. After it passed, Luis asked, “why don’t we have some food and drink while we talk.” He then opened a cooler full of fruit, cold shrimp, and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. He reached for a bag with some fresh bread and offered that also.

  “Luis, that’s wonderful,” said Jess. Luis quickly set up a table and chairs for them to sit at and eat.

  They ate in silence for a time, before Jess broke the silence. “Lyle, you said the Japanese were afraid of America because there was a ‘gun behind every blade of grass.’ Why is it different now?”

  “Because they mean to take the cities, Jess. America’s guns are out in the country, while the cities have very strict gun laws. They won’t find the people to be armed in the cities. And the gangs who do have guns aren’t organized to fight a disciplined army.”

  “But they won’t be able to control the whole country,” retorted Jess. “The people in the country are the independent ones.”

  “Even independent people need a leader, Jess. I don’t think there’s ever been a President less connected to the common folk. His social circles are known for sneering at the rednecks. Other Presidents have moved in similar circles, but today it’s out in the open. When he speaks of them he uses words like angry and frustrated. But what they hear is stupid and ignorant. They’ll still feel like they should support the country, but they won’t know who to support. If the media falls in line with the invaders, all you’ll have is confusion. They’re probably counting on this.”

  “Senor, how about the nuclear response?” asked Luis.

  “The President is committed to ‘no first use,’” interjected Jess.

  “Commitments like that are not dependable in the heat of battle,” said Lyle. “I don’t know what they’ll do. But they’ve probably thought about that and they probably have other plans that we haven’t figured out yet. We just need to get back and get word to the right people,” finished Lyle.

  The sun sets quickly in the tropics, and the period of twilight is very brief before deep darkness sets in. When they were confident it was sufficiently dark, Luis started the engines again, and pulled out onto the water.

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going in the dark?” asked Jess.

  “Si senorita, in my past I made this trip many times at night.”

  “Luis, I’m going to take one guess at what you were doing learning to navigate at night and knowing about that hiding place, and I don’t like the implications,” said Jess.

  “I did what I had to do,” he shrugged without looking at Jess.

  Lyle decided to come to Luis’ rescue before Jess eviscerated him. “Jess, one of the luxuries we have living in America is that we can choose not to make a living doing something objectionable. We can afford to take a step down economically and it almost never means our kids go hungry. Most of the world doesn’t have that margin of wealth, and sometimes it’s not really a free choice. That’s why I’m not comfortable judging those in poor countries who get caught up in something we condemn.”

  Jess frowned at Lyle briefly, but dropped the subject.

  “Thank you Senor,” said Luis, looking appreciative. “You do favors for people, and they do favors for you. You don’t ask too many questions. That’s how it works down here.”

  Chapter 52: Unexpected Rescue

  “Did you see him squirm when you mentioned the Chinese?” asked Frank.

  John nodded, aware that there could be microphones in the vicinity, adding in a whisper, “He gave away a lot. On China, I took what turned out to be a lucky guess.”

  “Good guess. Not that it could really be anybody else behind this.”

  John said nothing for a while then whispered again, “I don’t know if it will be useful to us, but we’re learning a ton here. We know Ellis is running something big enough to make him among the most powerful men in America. Someone, probably Chinese, is using Morningstar to pull it off and Ellis gets some sort of prominent role. It starts in San Marcos, it involves the major ports of the USA, and it leaves Ellis in control at the end of the day.”

  “An invasion?”

  “It’s possible. Think about it. Ports are for importing things. What if they plan to import an army? I’d love to hear what they saw in San Marcos.”

  After some silence, Frank broached the topic of their predicament. “They’re first going to see what we tell them voluntarily. Then they’ll enhance the interrogation and compare notes on what we’ve said individually. Finally, they’ll finish us off with some brutal torture where we’ll say anything to make it stop. That’ll be the least reliable information but even there, they’ll find useful tidbits. I wonder if we should just tell them the truth to begin with and then contradict ourselves when it gets bad. At least that will confuse them a bit.”

  “Frank if that’s how it ends, then it’s been a pleasure knowing you. I was leery about getting involved in all this but now, I can honestly say I have no regrets. I will fight Derek Ellis with to last breath.”
/>   “What changed your mind?” asked Frank.

  “His perfume,” said John.

  “Okay he smells offensive, but really?”

  “If we get out of here I’ll explain. There’s a lot more to it.”

  Several hours passed and Frank and John fell asleep, awaking before dawn to the sound of glass breaking, a door opening, and somebody running towards them.

  Frank looked up in disbelief. “It’s you. From Fred’s!”

  The red haired man looked disgusted. “You idiots have really got yourselves in deep shit. I told you those guys are not to be messed with.”

  He quickly cut the tape that bound them and led them out of the warehouse. “They’ve been to your motel, so forget about getting anything from there. I can only imagine what they’ve rigged up in your car. We’re going to a safe house where we’ll debrief you.”

  They got into the man’s Toyota Highlander and followed some side streets to the southbound New Jersey turnpike. “After your transparent stunt at Fred’s, I decided to follow you. I saw them take you and followed the van, waiting for my chance. Now I hope what you’ve learned is worth the loss of my cover at the port. You’ve really screwed up my operation.”

  “So who are you?” asked John.

  “Randy Tucker. I’m with a division of the NSA. We know these guys are planning something, but we don’t yet know the details.”

  “I’m John Corson, and this is Frank Goworski. They’ve previously tried to kill us and they’ve already killed our old friend Robbie.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about that,” said Tucker. “Do you know what they’re planning?”

  “We know a good part of the story,” said John. “And we have good guesses about the rest. Can you get us in to see the President, or at least the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?”

  “That’ll take some doing. I suppose if your story is good enough I could do that. Now it’s time to start talking.”

  “Where’s this safe house?” asked Frank, seeming a little suspicious.

  “You’re not going to learn that yet,” said Tucker. “First I want your story. All of it.”

  “Let’s stop for breakfast,” said John. “We were on our way to dinner when they took us, and that was a day and night ago. I can’t think straight until I get something to eat.” Frank nodded in agreement.

  “We can do that,” said Tucker. He took the next exit and pulled in at a McDonald’s just off the highway. He ordered breakfast combos and several bottles of water. They ate quickly, with John only getting in occasional words about “shipments,” “San Marcos,” and “Chinese.”

  John finished eating and proclaimed “I’m going to go wash my hands.”

  “Good idea, I’ll come with you,” said Tucker. At the single sink, John went first, rolling up his sleeves and elaborately washing his hands with extra amounts of soap, taking a long time to rinse and using four paper towels.

  Tucker followed. He bent over the sink and rolled up his sleeves, not to the degree that John had done but enough for John’s purposes. Suddenly and without warning, John used the palm of his hand to violently slam Tucker’s head into the cinder block wall beside him, whereupon he collapsed to the floor motionless. John took Tucker’s wallet, car keys and gun, and walked back to the table, saying to Frank quietly but firmly, “Let’s go.” Frank jumped to his feet and followed.

  …

  Behind the wheel of Tucker’s car, John merged into southbound traffic, well outside commuting distance from New York City, but still surrounded by heavy traffic volume. “We probably have an hour before our friend regains his wits and finds a way to make a few phone calls. After that, they’ll be on this car very quickly. I’d be surprised if they’re not tracking it right now,” said John.

  “What was the deal with Tucker?” asked Frank.

  “I had a bad feeling about our rescue being so easy, with no guards or much interrogation to speak of, so I stalled as long as I could before telling him anything,” replied John. “Then I remembered something from our abduction. I was sure I recognized one guy’s voice. And I scratched his arm as they were drugging us. When I went to the bathroom, I noticed that Tucker was copying everything I did. I rolled up my sleeves, and he took the bait and copied me. That’s when I saw the double dagger tattoo on his arm, as well as the scratches. So I decided to give him an hour or so to catch up on his sleep. My guess is he was going to learn what we knew then kill us. Or have us killed. I’m also guessing based on our direction, that we were headed for the Philadelphia area. So we’ll follow this route as far as Philly. It’s my home town, so when we get there I’m thinking of cooking something up to lose them.”

  Frank took it in and decided that he would trust John to get them to safety. But he was developing other questions. “John, if you land an invasion force at some or most of the nation’s major ports, even a well armed force, how do you consolidate that to control the nation as a whole? You can’t just land a small army and take over the United States, right? I know our army is hollowed out and playing offense, but the logistics of this seem implausible.”

  “I’m going to make some guesses here. Taking the ports would be one arm of any operation. Those pickup trucks we saw will get loaded with machine guns then they’ll spread out and set up roadblocks at all the major traffic arteries around the Tri-State area. A few thousand men will be more than enough. It will be overwhelming, really. The smaller port cities won’t require nearly as many. The real key to this will be in taking DC. The Pentagon, the White House, the NSA, probably Langley. They’ll have to immobilize America’s ability to mount a response in a hurry. That’s where they’ll need larger numbers. Overthrowing the US government will take the force of numbers and foreign troops will be required, where loyalty is not at issue. Frank, it’s clear that DC is where the real action is going to be. That’s where we have to go.”

  Frank nodded. “I take it you have a plan then to get rid of this car and get a replacement?”

  “Not quite a plan so much as a contact. It’s contingent on being able to do it without exposing him to retribution. We’ll have to move quickly when we hit Philly. Right now I’m thinking about Jess and Lyle. They got away or Ellis would not have needed us, but how far they can get and how they can get back to the US, that’s anyone’s guess. I hope they’re good at improvisation.”

  “Ellis is squirming, John,” replied Frank. “The fact he didn’t kill us when he had the chance and took this big risk in our fake escape, these facts are the best confirmation you could ask for that we’re on target, and that Lyle and Jess found something worthwhile.”

  “I still have a bad feeling about that whole series of events, Frank. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s fishy.”

  They reached the outskirts of Philadelphia and John stopped at a gas station, went inside and borrowed the telephone. He came back out after about 10 minutes and said, “We’re in business!” They drove to a garage in an industrial area and parked the vehicle inside. A short stocky man soon drove up in an old Ford Taurus, got out and shook John’s hand with a Cheshire grin on his face. He spoke with a thick accent. “I take care of it this car. Doesn’t exist no more. I give you very excellent car you pay me later.” The man pointed to his rusty 1998 Ford Taurus with 120,000 miles on the odometer.

  John laughed. “Get real, Vasek, I’m doing you the favor here. Is that piece of shit even going to get us to Washington?”

  Vasek lost his grin momentarily but recovered it just as quickly. “I fix it myself, engine is very excellent. Transmission maybe not so much,” he said as he rocked the open top of his hand back and forth. “But it work for you fine. Just this time I let you have it for nothing.”

  John felt he had no choice at this point, so he took the keys to the Taurus and started it. Sure enough, the engine ran smoothly and the transmission, while a little jerky, would probably be up to the task. They got in and drove off, noting that even the tires seemed reasonably well balanced. “What’s he
going to do with the Toyota?” asked Frank.

  “That’s an abandoned garage, so tracing the car there will be fruitless. He’ll strip off any tracking devices and hand it off to some acquaintances of his. They’ll likely take it to the port. From there, it might go onto a cargo ship, and off to someplace in Africa or the East. And it’s possible it will all be overseen by Nightwatch.” They both smiled at the irony.

  Chapter 53: Logistical Review

  “Give me a list of heavy armaments that you’ve distributed to each unit,” said Derek Ellis, sitting in his conference room with his planning team.

  Mike Thompson plugged his laptop into the projector and brought up a map of the country, showing Ellis the location of each of his Morningstar Security units together with a list of their armaments and targets. They reviewed each location against a list of known defenses at each target site, to ensure that they could bring overwhelming force at a moment’s notice. Meanwhile, Ellis made extensive modifications to the plans as they went along, in some cases pointing out the existence of a secondary target unknown to the others.

  Rennson’s phone rang while they were reviewing the data, and after a few words he interrupted. “Derek, you may want to take this call yourself.”

  Ellis took Rennson’s phone and spoke to the man at the other end. “How did they escape?”

  “I see. No, that’s fine. Just take care of your injuries.”

  “It’s nothing,” said Ellis to the group. “This review is far more important right now.”

  After concluding the logistical review, Ellis had lunch brought in to the conference room. As Ellis and Rennson sat side by side, an observer could not help but think they were brothers separated by about 10 years of age. Rennson had meticulously imitated Ellis’ hairstyle and grooming habits, though not his perfume. Ellis made it plain to anyone who crossed this line that there would be no olfactory competition among the senior staff.