Coyote’s Chief of Staff said, “Nawww, for now let’s focus on distribution warehouses and normal grocery stores. We’ll remember your neighborhood for later.” Tank nodded, but began to think of possible opportunities outside of the watchful eyes of the Regional Governor.
Casually, Tank asked, “What are you and Coyote gonna do about the Governor, his National Guard and his State Police?”
The Chief of Staff instantly caught Tank’s meaning. “Anything your people could do about that little problem?”
Tank’s face lost some of its enthusiasm at the question. “I had a couple of guys watching the Governor’s mansion and his office at the Capital the past few days. I was expecting they’d see only his normal State Police protection detail. Now, everywhere he goes, he’s got some damned National Guard unit riding shotgun for ‘em. That might be a tougher nut to crack. It’ll be expensive, too.”
The Chief of Staff thought for a moment, before saying, “The guys at the Homeland Security office have some pretty good toys that might prove useful.” He then took out an index card and wrote down a name and telephone number. “Give this guy a call and see what he can do for you. The White House has told Homeland to start planning for a full-blown insurrection, so he should be able to help. There’s also a slush fund available for important miscellaneous needs.”
Tank took the card and left. With excitement in his eye, Kerry couldn’t contain himself. Looking at the Chief of Staff, he said, “You done that without ever giving Tank any orders. I was sittin’ right here and could swear you never told him to do anything.”
The Chief of Staff looked closely at Kerry, smiled just a little, and walked away. He was humming some bars from the song, Anticipation, but mentally inserting the words, “plausible deniability.”
. . .
The Peter Worthington Residence
Outside of Cronin, Kentucky
1300 Hours EST
Lisa’s heart was, once again, being torn at the thought of what might have happened to Su Ling’s parents. It had been nearly a month since arriving in Kentucky and there had been no word from her Dad or anyone else. Looking at Su Ling’s teared face, Lisa said, “Maybe we could figure out a way to contact someone from your village. Someone you can trust?”
Sadly, Su shook her head no. “Lisa, you don’t understand. Every email or computer message of any kind in China is carefully reviewed by the MSS and PLA computer people. They have sweatshops of literally tens of thousands of hackers looking for everything. After I disappeared, they will task one or two hundred of them to sift every computer bit or bite of data going to anyone that has ever been in contact with me and everyone within fifty kilometers of my parent’s village. Not only might it show the MSS where I am, but even the attempt would make sure my parents would end up being tortured, just to force me to return. Your father was right, we must remain completely hidden.”
Fortunately, two days after their arrival “Uncle Peter” had told Lisa that he and Aunt Liz were always on their home computer searching for what is going on in the world. “If you stick to the sites listed in my computer history, and refrain from clicking on any of the click-bait articles floating around, you should be able to at least do some general computer searching.” He had also said, “I’m also on the board of Hillsdale College. They have some great courses on the Constitution and American History. Feel free to delve into those areas if you have questions about how our capitalistic system works, maybe that would be fun for you two to explore.”
Lisa had seen a new look on her friend’s face for the first time. It was as if Su had suddenly discovered a meaningful focus for her life.
“Yes,” Su almost shouted in response. “That is just what I will do.” She walked into Peter’s office, sat down at his desk and began to search for everything she could find on the United States Constitution.
After seeing that Su would be absorbed with her research for the near future, Lisa had gone to see “Aunt Liz.”
“Lisa, honey? I found some books on the shelf in the basement that Peter had labeled ‘good to know.’ Would you like to have a look at them?” A quick perusal found the books to be mostly instruction manuals on how to make and grow all kinds of useful things, including food, medicines and the like, in an environment without electric power.
“Do you and Uncle Peter really think we’ll be without power soon?”
Aunt Liz said, “Dear, we certainly hope not, but, let’s just say that we’re planning for the worst and praying for the best. One of Peter’s favorite things to say is that with Murphy’s Law, we’ll more likely need these preparations if we haven’t done them, than if we do. You’ve heard him say, ‘The only time I’ll ever need my gun on me is if I don’t have it!’ I have to agree with him. Once the prep is done, we just thank the Lord it is done and look around at all for which we are thankful. Seems the more we focus on being thankful, the more good things that happen. Wonderful how that works!” Aunt Liz’s smile was radiant and infectious.
Lisa had given her a big hug and began to study the books.
Coming back to the present, it seemed that Su never tired of talking about how the American Founding Father’s vision of the United States had been perverted over the years, but particularly in the last half century. Both agreed that the communist and socialist efforts to tear down what was previously a pretty good system had been very effective.
“What puzzles me the most,” said Su, “is the communist means and methods for doing this were well known as early as the 1930s. How did they achieve so much success when Americans should have known exactly what they were doing?”
Further exploration and a few long discussions with Peter filled in what even the extensive library at Hillsdale College failed to explain. He explained Saul Alinsky’s book Rules for Radicals was designed to prey upon natural human greed and laziness. This movement sought the removal of any moral responsibility to govern one’s actions. It even pushed questioning of the most blatantly obvious truths, such as a person being either male or female. Religion had to be ridiculed, as it brought an undesirable moral certainty. By removing all of these certainties, any law or policy became open to question, making it easy for paid demonstrators to sway public opinion. Seeing the way it was orchestrated was both fascinating and frightening at the same time.
. . .
Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia
2045 Hours EST
Marc and Susan sat in the historic Christiana Campbell’s Tavern in colonial Williamsburg, Virginia sipping on their drinks. Marc had finished almost half of his IPA beer in two big gulps. Susan only sipped on her red wine. Surrounded by history in one of the country’s oldest and finest places to get seafood (they say George Washington considered it to be his favorite seafood restaurant), they both managed to only look at the table and savor a day and a half away from the White House. Marc had tried to get Susan to open up a little about what was bothering her, without success.
“Heh, lady,” Marc said softly, “I know it’s tough, you know, to let things go for a little while. What say we get off the world, at least for this evening? Okay? After all, the boss is at Martha’s Vineyard, so you really have gotten away for a day or two.”
Susan looked at him with intensity and said, “Take me back to the room and make me forget everything. Now.” She put an exclamation point on the statement by draining her wine glass. Marc didn’t even finish his beer as he led her by the hand back to their room at the nearby motel.
Marc had pulled every trick he could think of to sexually distract Susan’s mind away from work. Quite a while later, after coming up for air and to allow his aching neck and shoulder muscles to rest, he thought he had done it. At least her screams of pleasure sure seemed to indicate he had done it, but when he look
ed at her face, there were tears streaming down her cheeks.
“My God, sweetie,” Marc said gently, “was I that good?” He couldn’t help but follow the statement with a smile. His dark curly hair was well mussed and had nearly been yanked out by her fingers.
She didn’t say a word, so after a few seconds, Marc walked to the bathroom for a two minute shower, and then climbed back into bed to hold Susan. She cried gently until she fell asleep.
When Marc woke in the morning, Susan was in the shower. When she walked out in a terry cloth bathrobe, he held his arms open for her to climb back into bed. She did so, but kept on the robe and the towel on her wet hair. He glanced at the nightstand for a moment and felt near panic as he noticed his phone was missing.
“Marc, don’t worry. Our phones are in the bathroom with the water running. We can hear them if they ring, but we can’t be overheard.” Marc realized she was right and that everything that happened last night could have been monitored by any major state sponsored intelligence agency, including their own government.
“You are a wonderful friend, Marc.” She said this while stroking his hair and looking vaguely toward the wall.
Marc enjoyed the delightful feeling of snuggling his head between her breasts. They were lovely, soft, but delightfully firm pair of breasts to bury one’s head into. Softly, Susan said, “She expects there to be open rebellion in several parts of the country. When the NRA people and, well, a lot of loyal Americans refuse to turn in their guns, troops will be sent in to seize them and pacify the populous. Yes, you and I know that won’t work, but she and some of the people whispering in her ear do truly believe it will. I wonder if Lincoln felt this threatened during the Civil War? Anyway, I don’t know of anything to do about it, right now. I’m doing all I can just to keep her from going off the edge.” Susan then pulled Marc even closer into her embrace.
In barely a whisper, Susan said into Marc’s ear, “The FBI brought her evidence that Walter has been fucking a Chinese whore. She laughed at that, at least until they let her know the whore was being handled by Chinese intelligence and that they had everything recorded, in living color.” Susan rocked Marc, while holding him in a near death-grip. “That’s why Walter was banished to California. The Chinese can now do whatever they want, cause she won’t see her country fall apart if those videos are released. I heard her talking to someone on a special cell phone about taking care of the problem two days ago. She snapped at me to get out when she noticed I had walked in. She never does that.”
After a few seconds more of being squeezed and rocked, Susan said, “I think she was talking to someone about the FBI Director. There was something about the CIA Director being seen going to FBI headquarters right after a national security meeting and that they and others might need to be silenced. God, Marc, do you think she was talking about having them killed?”
Marc’s brain was flying around in dizzying circles trying to understand it all. “Honey, at this point there’s no way to know what she really meant. The sparking civil war part does seem likely. I know way too many people back in Kentucky that take the late Charlton Heston’s words as gospel. ‘They’ll have to pry my gun from my cold, dead, fingers.’ Almost all of them are really patriotic Americans. How can she, and Don for that matter, be so blind and stupid?”
This did nothing to brighten their already gloomy mood. By mutual consent they packed up and returned to the pressure cooker.
Chapter 45
The New Year - Plus Thirty-Six Days
Martha’s Vineyard
One of Eli Frederick’s Twelve Estates
2015 Hours EST
Katherine had just suffered through a long, boring dinner with half a dozen Fontaine Foundation donors at Eli Fredericks’ Martha’s Vineyard estate. Susan had not made the trip, so she was stuck with Susan’s assistant and her Chief of Staff to try to keep from telling them all to go screw themselves. Burt was not happy about being drafted for this occasion, but did so when she suggested she really needed his presence.
Directly following a gourmet dinner, the guests wandered toward the indoor arboretum to admire the exotic plants and flowers Eli had flown in for the occasion. By mutual consent, she walked with Eli toward an alcove for a private conversation.
“When will the Chinese attack Taiwan?” Katherine asked the question, somehow fully expecting Eli to know the answer.
“Katherine, apparently, no one is sure when, only that it will happen soon. When it does, they are already planning to attack any American forces that try to support the Taiwanese. Will you go to war for this small island?”
It infuriated Katherine to be pumped for a decision like this. Katherine had to quell her anger and said, “We will not engage in nuclear war with the Chinese. That answer may change if they attack American vessels without provocation; including any attacks with secret weapons. Make sure you tell someone that. There better not be anymore, shall we say, odd incidents.”
She was surprised to see the questioning look on his face. When she did not elaborate, Eli asked, “To what specific incidents do you refer?”
“Just deliver the message,” she said cryptically. “And please forgive my early departure, but there are things that need my attention.” She nodded to her Secret Service escort across the room and walked away toward her waiting helicopter.
Eli walked quickly to his office and placed a call to Wu, using one of the burner phones. When Wu picked up the phone, Eli said, “I need to speak to the owner, today. I am highly displeased with your service.” No elaboration was needed. Wu’s burner phone was registered to a Chinese laundry. Wu recognized Eli’s voice and code phrase indicating he wanted to speak to Chen today. This was highly unusual and would involve some risk of interception of the contact by any of a half dozen different intelligence agencies, however it was not Wu’s place to remind Eli of that.
“So sowry, no here,” Wu said smoothly, using a heavily accent. “Can find and tell him, Okay?”
“Just tell him. I am very unhappy.” Eli broke the connection, secure in the knowledge the urgency would be conveyed to Chen.
Twenty five minutes later the phone connected to his computer VOIP, or Voice over Internet Protocol, line gave a high-pitch twitter. When Eli picked it up, he waited for a few seconds until he saw a readout that said the line was secure. Chen’s distorted voice said, “You called me?”
“Yes,” Eli said into the receiver. “She said she would have no reaction if a fight broke out, so long as none of it involved her close friends.”
In the soft, distorted tone, Chen asked “Is that all?”
Eli responded, “No, I have one curious item. She also said there better not be any attacks against her close friends with secret weapons, and a reference to odd incidents. She would not clarify what she meant.”
“Anything else?”
Eli said, “No.”
“It is good to hear your voice. You are a valuable friend.” Chen then broke the connection.
Eli snorted to himself with amazement and some pleasure. Chen had just acknowledged the high value Eli added to their partnership. It was extremely rare for Chen to show appreciation to anyone, but he had felt compelled to do so to Eli. If the U.S. would avoid entering into war with China, he had also just become a prime backchannel for information between Katherine and General Secretary Song. Such a position would prove to be extremely valuable for both himself and Chen.
Chapter 46
The New Year - Plus Thirty-Seven Days
Outside of Beijing, China
1025 Hours Local Time
Song had graduated from his hospital bed to a well-padded wheelchair, which allowed him to sit up at his desk in the emergency bunker. Over the past two d
ays, he had increased his ability to concentrate, which allowed his unusually keen mind to absorb the stacks of papers on his desk marked, “Most Urgent.” After over an hour of such work, he managed to move thirty centimeters of paper from one pile to another.
Wong walked into the room without knocking to stand in front of Song’s desk, with head bowed. After another five minutes of work, Song looked up and uttered only one word. “Yes?”
“General Secretary,” Wong said formally, “Ching Kai was brought here in a windowless van by your security force and requests an opportunity to speak with you.” The polite version of a blindfold was to ensure the location of the secret bunker was not revealed.
After having Wong remove the wheelchair and replace it with a normal office chair, Song said, “See him in.”
When Ching entered the room, he immediately dominated it with his two meter tall frame. Without invitation, he sat down in the chair opposite Song’s desk and bowed his head with just the right amount of deference. “General Secretary, please accept my apologies at disturbing you at this time. My employer thought it important you receive certain information immediately.”
Song was only mildly surprised at the lack of formal courtesies and his interest was piqued immediately.
“What information?”
Ching relayed the information Eli had given to Chen, including the warning to avoid firing upon American military personnel and to dispense with use of “secret weapons” that would result in “odd incidents,” that had happened in the past. Doing so would avoid military action by the Americans in any upcoming small conflict.
The Final Proclamation (An America Reborn Thriller Book 2) Page 24