“My agents tell me the vast majority of them will be in place in fourteen days. Attacking the renegade province after that time will ensure the best possibility of success. It is still important to confirm the U.S. President’s intentions in this matter.”
Lao had just been briefed on the PLA reserve status before walking into Song’s office. “Lao, what is the status of the special source in Washington,” after a short pause for thought, Song continued, “the Charm School girl?” They could speak openly about Black Orchid, so all topics were now suitable for discussion.
“General Secretary, she last met Walter Fontaine on January 6th. The video tapes showed a session in which he requested to be beaten for having been bad. Little intelligence was gained, however the embarrassment factor alone should prove devastating to the Fontaine Administration, if you choose to use it. The Charm School girl’s handler did not attempt contact with her for the next two weeks. When he did try to contact her, she had disappeared. One of my most reliable deputies was sent to Washington three days ago to investigate. He took our top interrogation team with him. Initial interviews showed her handler, Sung Hong, had treated her brutally, directly after the January 6th meeting. Review of surveillance video from her apartment building did not show her returning to her apartment since that time. After twenty-four hours of appropriate questioning, Sung admitted having suspected she might be in contact with the Americans and causing him to carefully search her body and the hotel meeting room.”
Lao briefly enjoyed the thought of a pig like Sung being subjected to what the Americans called “extreme interrogation techniques” in the basement of the Chinese Embassy. He had personally approved their use, to include the mentally-damaging chemical substances.
“Nothing was found during the search of the hotel room. Curiously, there has been nothing to indicate the American intelligence community is aware of this operation. This shows that if the operation has, in fact, been discovered, they are compartmentalizing it to the point that not even high-level gossip is being heard. Conversely, Walter Fontaine has traveled to California and has not been seen outside of their estate for several days, which may indicate the President is aware of the operation and has tied him securely to the family tree.”
After a short pause, Lao continued, “Over the past few weeks, the American President has withdrawn all U.S. Navy carrier groups from the Pacific Rim and smaller naval task forces have been recalled, except for the anti-missile strike force off the Korean Peninsula and one small strike force in the South China Sea. Their actions and her State Department’s diplomatic rhetoric also seem to indicate she is consciously avoiding conflicts with us. General Secretary, if the Charm School girl has been collected by the Americans, as presumed, their President must know that the video tapes of her husband will be widely released, in the event of war. We will continue to watch the situation closely, but at this time, it appears the Americans will not react in defense of the renegade province.”
Lao allowed a smile to spread across his face, drawing a similar reaction from Song. Subtlety was definitely needed in handling of this information. With this information, if used properly, Song now owned the American President.
Chapter 41
The New Year - Plus Thirty Days
The White House
0800 Hours EST
Marc nodded to one of the Secret Service uniformed division men as he walked through the metal detector into the White House. Instead of the usual joke about how he didn’t look anything like his ID photo, the officer merely grunted, “Okay,” before allowing him to enter. The White House had changed since Katherine had signed what was covertly but universally called “The Proclamation.” Instead of the loud, hustle and bustle of a normal, busy White House, it felt like pre-World War II German Gestapo Headquarters. Everyone walked the corridors speaking in hushed tones, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Katherine’s Presidential Executive Orders (PEOs), known behind her back as “edicts” to the staff in the White House, seemed to have increased to one or more every day since the Proclamation. When she had addressed the nation, she had not tried to appeal to patriotism, nor to the American people as a whole. In fact, she castigated the NRA and everyone that insisted on gun ownership, inferring they were responsible for most of the problems faced by the country and certainly all of the gun deaths. She then identified the problems as she saw them and declared the need for her to assume the power to fix them. The speech lasted twenty minutes, but seemed like it had lasted only ten. Her base of support heard the speech with wonder and hope. Finally, their agenda would be implemented without the stone walling House of Representatives.
Outside of her base, which included a majority of Americans, it was apparent that she had simply seized power. When the first Federal District Judge had ruled one of her edicts was unconstitutional, it was sent to the Supreme Court on emergency appeal by the Justice Department, the judge’s ruling was overturned, after the court vote of five to four. Fortunately, Katherine’s nomination had been confirmed by her party’s slim majority in the Senate only days earlier.
POEs had directed National Guard units to support the missions of eight different federal agencies, all of which were tasked to enforce Katherine’s unpopular policies. FEMA had established centers in each state where contractors delivered pre-stored food and medical supplies. Soup kitchens were established by FEMA, with little regard for state and local governments or religious organizations providing similar services. The National Guard’s overt mission was to keep the peace while the hungry were fed and to secure available stores.
Under one carefully written POE the Guard was given full arrest authority on the federal level, without the need to show probable cause, for the duration of the emergency. Local congressmen were outraged when Katherine ordered the National Guard to establish prison camps in the different regions for those arrested on suspicion of sedition. The dictates of the POEs were generally followed on the East Coast, at least along the Northeast Corridor, and in most of the West Coast states. The heartland states were either ignoring federal authorities or, in egregious cases, were arresting Homeland Security and Fontaine administration managers on state corruption charges.
Marc walked into his office and noticed Don Stetson sitting at a side table talking on the phone. He was clearly under the influence of something, most likely either booze, pills or both. His words slurred as he spoke with someone about Katherine’s latest Executive Order. He gleefully told the listener the President had just signed a PEO directing the FBI’s NICS computer background check system records be turned over to the Department of Homeland Security. When the “gun clingers,” as Katherine called them, showed their expected acts of defiance, Katherine would issue another PEO instituting a program for Homeland Security to begin collecting all guns that threaten national security. These would include all semi-automatic weapons, both pistols and rifles, with a particular focus on the so-called assault rifles. For the time being, bolt action rifles and shotguns would be excluded. When citizens turned in their guns, like had been done in Australia several years earlier, each would be given a government voucher for reimbursement.
Don became deliriously happy when he told the person on the other end of the line that collection centers would be established. Once they were opened, people would have thirty days to turn in their now-illegal firearms. After the thirty day period expired guns could be seized by the government without recompense. Press Secretary Towanda Jefferson had personally written the press release in anticipation of the PEO.
Hearing Don explain the program out loud terrified Marc. He envisioned his friends in Kentucky reacting violently to anyone that tried to take their firearms, or even their stored food. Very soon Americans were going to begin killing each other, all because of the woman in the Oval Office.
. . .
The Pen and Ink Saloon
Frankfort, Kentucky
1400 Hours EST
Kerry DuBois sat down at a table in the upstairs private meeting room at the Pen and Ink Saloon. Coyote Collins sat nursing a beer while a scowl deepened on his face. Both men were waiting for the arrival of Tank Monahan, Blondi, Freddie and John Chapman.
When Kerry tried to pump Coyote for information, in his high, squeaky voice, Coyote had glanced up and said, “Wait.” Kerry wasn’t happy, but decided shutting his mouth was probably the best course of action. When Tank and the rest had arrived, Coyote called the unofficial meeting to order.
“Who the hell does your Goddamned Governor think he is?” Coyote’s question was delivered as a rhetorical question. “Homeland Security went to the National Guard for help in collecting food and fuel for redistribution.”
He let the statement hang for a moment before continuing, “All of the Commanders of the units contacted had the exact-same-answer, “We must check with higher headquarters before we can help you.” The word from Homeland seems to point to the Governor and Commanding General as being the people that sent down the word not to do what the President’s order says they should do.” He then raised his voice and said, “It’s a Goddamned Presidential Order!”
“I’ve already talked to my contact in the White House and have the go-ahead to start hiring contractors. Out of all the regions, I guess seven of them have done the same. Tank? I want you to send a list of 300 reliable contractors, and I mean reliable. Understand?”
Tank nodded with a grin spreading over his face.
“I’ll go ahead and suspend the need for background checks, but, you better not be sending me any with active warrants out on them. Got it?”
“Sure Coyote,” Tank said. “How soon do you want ‘em to start? I got a list made and ready on the computer.”
Coyote looked at Tank and blinked slowly in mild surprise. “I want ‘em yesterday, so you send your list over to my chief of staff after this meeting. He’ll let you know where they should go tomorrow evening to get the paperwork done. They’ll start officially day after tomorrow.”
With an undertone of anger in his voice, Coyote said, “And you make sure you tell each and every one of ‘em they better plan on following orders. Period. Understand?”
“No problem,” Tank said solemnly, “I’ll talk to each one myself.”
Coyote then turned to Kerry and John Chapman. “When I hired you two as consultants, you were supposed to tell me what the Governor and his people were up to and how to get what we want. Why isn’t he cooperating with my people?”
John smoothly turned to Kerry and motioned for him to respond to Coyote’s question. Kerry’s showed surprise and annoyance on his face before his whiny voice raised an octave, as he said, “Well, I mean, you know, uh the Governor has really circled the wagons in his administration. It ain’t near as easy to talk to his people as it used to be. You know?” His voice trailed off as he looked pleadingly at John.
John nodded slowly and said, “Kerry’s right about that, Coyote. Both the Governor and Lieutenant Governor have really put the clamps on their people about what they’re doing. All my usual contacts have dried up and his State Police protection detail seems to have put the fear of God in everyone to keep their mouths shut, that is if they want to keep their job.”
John believed it was the fear of losing their job that stopped the leaks of information. He never considered the possibility that loyalty to this Governor was the real reason.
. . .
Mike Broehm Residence
Outside of Cronin, Kentucky
1800 Hours EST
Snow was spitting outside of the windows at Mike’s house as a bitter wind blew the light, puffy flakes around in circles and into wiggling lines in his driveway. They could be seen under the spotlights that illuminated the cars and trucks parked there.
Inside, a fire was blazing merrily in the fireplace and the small group of neighbors were scattered around the family room. Each held a glass that was being merely sipped. When Mike walked into the room, everyone stopped talking and waited expectantly.
Mike looked around for a moment before saying, “Geez, guys. It sounds like a morgue in here.” He broke into a smile, melting the tension in the room.
“Didn’t we just celebrate the birth of Christ a little while ago? Near as I can tell, he’s still looking over each and every one of us. Agreed?”
Everyone in the room nodded their head, with some offering their glass in salute to that Christian truth.
“Okay, then,” Mike said, “Let’s focus on how thankful we are to live in this great country, even if the Bitch is bat-shit crazy, but we have the best friends and neighbors in the world. We will overcome and be stronger for it. Right?”
Mike’s comments had drawn initial chuckles, followed by a chorus of, “yeah, you’re right, Mike!’
Mike then looked to Sean and Linda, who were wedged together into the overstuffed chair. “What can you tell us, Sean?”
“Mike, let me defer to Linda. Honey?”
“Once a commander, always a commander. Is that it, my dear?”
Sean merely smiled, before saying, “Honey, I know who the real brains of this outfit is, so of course, I defer to you.”
Linda gave him a playful swat across the arm, before saying, “Smooth, mister. Real smooth.” She then turned to everyone in the room and launched into a concise situation report or sitrep. “The President’s address and her executive orders have completely changed the landscape in America. The military has been placed on a footing designed to combat civil war. Despite what the mainstream media would have you believe, the President’s address was received by everyone but her staunch followers to be a declaration of her intent to rule by fiat.”
Most in the room reacted with horror. Rollie, on the other hand, asked in his Kentucky drawl, “Now hold on, little lady. What’s a little I-talian car got to do with any of this?” His question caught everyone by surprise.
Mike jumped in by asking Rollie, “Are you trying to relive your first car accident, Rollie? That girl in the pickup nearly killed you when she blew the stop sign and crushed your Fiat Spider.” As I recall, you were so pissed about it, you married her!” The mood in the room went from horror and despair to a jovial one.
Mike looked back at Linda, who had just caught on to what he and Rollie were doing. “I’m sorry Linda. This knucklehead over here keeps wanting to relive the night he went from being nearly killed, to getting laid by a crazy lady. Now, what were you saying?”
Linda deftly changed the whole tenor of her sitrep. “With the political situation being what it is, we’re very lucky here to have the kind of support that will see us through the coming troubles. Now this is all very hush, hush, but we’ve been working with contacts in the Governor’s office and the state police and have been able to get some pretty good Intel on what Coyote intends to do, at least in the short term. The best part is that we should be able to get at least advance warning before the Homeland Security people start to target our neighborhood specifically. There are no guarantees, but we should be ready for most of what they can throw at us.”
Linda went on to describe some of the tactical and strategic plans for keeping roving bands of thugs at bay. “There are many who aren’t convinced such a thing can happen here, so to some extent, we’ll just have to react when it does come to us.”
Chapter 42
The New Year - Plus Thirty Days
The Mountains of Southeast Afghanistan
1900 Hours Local Time
Ahmed received the evening report of activities from his assistant. “Hadi, has our u
nhappy guest said anything since waking up?”
“No, esteemed leader. He just glares at whoever brings him water and a plate of food. He may be even more uncomfortable when he learns of what his own people planned to do.”
“Ahh, then it is time to go tell him.” Ahmed got up and walked through the cave complex to the chamber where Cho was chained.
Ahmed stood in the doorway, looking at Cho through the dim candlelight. A candle was always burning in Cho’s chamber and two armed men watching him constantly. Ahmed could see the metal shackles on his wrists and legs, beaten into place by a hammer. The dried blood on Cho’s wrists showed where he had tried, unsuccessfully, to pull his hands free. He had learned the hard way that trying to attack his guards resulted in being beaten unconscious by a club. He now offered his shackles for inspection whenever asked to do so.
Cho’s eyes did not betray any thoughts as he looked at Ahmed. This pleased Ahmed greatly.
After several minutes Ahmed asked, “Do you know why I chose to capture you instead of leaving your body for your so-called comrades?”
Cho slowly shook his head.
“You have honor, Infidel. I respect that. I also decided it was not your time to die. Did you know a Chinese team was waiting to kill all of you after you had prepared my martyrs for their mission? There were twenty-five of them surrounding the meeting site. Two were recorded quietly talking to each other by one of my fighters. Would you like to hear what they said? A friend just got me the translation.”
Ahmed opened a flip phone and could just make out the soft voices of two men speaking Mandarin Chinese. “Why do they want Cho killed? I know him. He’s one of us.”
“I don’t know and don’t care. It came from the top. He must know something he shouldn’t.”
The Final Proclamation (An America Reborn Thriller Book 2) Page 22