by Eric M Hill
The CIA director’s face flushed. “Dr. Anderson, you know as well as anyone here that it was found that those were rogue agents.”
“Director Beams,” replied Dr. Anderson, “let’s cut the crap here. They were rogue agents because they got caught. We all know that’s standard operating procedure. The things they did, the support they had, could not have been done without the knowledge of someone very high up on the organizational chart. And not a one of those agents were ever brought to justice.”
“Why you—if you call being shot dead in a shootout not being brought to justice, than I suppose they weren’t brought to justice!”
“And if you call shooting dead a handful of unarmed people with their hands raised over their heads a shootout, and if you call the rest of the rogue agents disappearing like cockroaches in the dark justice, then I guess they were brought to justice!”
“Gentlemen, we have to put our differences aside. We have more pressing concerns,” said Director Kellerman.
“This pompous bastard!” simmered the CIA director. “I don’t care how brilliant he is. He thinks he can just say whatever he wants.” He looked at Dr. Anderson and pointed a finger. “Be careful, doctor. National treasure or not, you’re close to crossing the line.”
The unseen and unofficial attendee viewing from the White House cleared his throat. The sound filled the room. The CIA director immediately calmed. The throat clearing affected everyone else, too. After several seconds, Director Kellerman continued, with renewed control of his own simmering anger.
“Dr. Anderson, you are correct. I think it would be most appropriate if we, as you say, cut the crap. This is an illegal meeting. It never happened. We didn’t notify DIGO because DIGO’s job is to enforce the Integrity and Oversight Act. Dr. Anderson, no one’s hands in this room are clean. Maybe Nancy’s. But that’s only because she’s new in the job. That integrity will hit the crapper—fast, if she tries to do even half her job.”
FBI Director Fulcrum was aghast at Director Kellerman’s presumptuous and dangerous words, but she held her thoughts to herself. The president had cleared his throat once. No need for another throat clearing.
Director Kellerman continued. “What we are facing as a nation can’t be solved with idealism and fantasy land morals. We have to do whatever it takes to save the nation. And trust me when I say this, and everyone here will attest to the veracity of what I’m saying, there is no guarantee that we’ll be successful in saving the nation,” his next words were a sledgehammer, “no matter what we do.” He paused, letting the sledgehammer do its work on the doctor. “So no. DIGO wasn’t invited because DIGO’s number one priority is the preservation of the Constitution.”
“And ours is not?” challenged the FBI director, hardly believing her ears. She knew President Cuning was a walking, talking snake. But the brazenness of this administration’s contempt for democracy and the Constitution was absolutely unbelievable.
Director Kellerman was unphased. He knew he had the winning hand. “Director Fulcrum, what good is a constitution without a nation?”
She didn’t answer and was angry that she couldn’t.
Dr. Anderson was stunned. Either this shyster was putting on the performance of a lifetime, or he truly believed the nation was close to its end. The man was honestly scared. The doctor’s stream of usual sarcasm dried. He didn’t know what to say.
“Dr. Anderson, you don’t trust us; we don’t trust you. But we have to work together or…well, our internal threats are now as dire as our external threats, and we have very little time to deal with them. We want to talk to you about those threats.”
Chapter 9
“I’m listening,” said Dr. Anderson.
“Thank you,” said Director Kellerman, “we’re all grateful for your patience. Please feel free to ask or say anything. Really, anything.”
Dr. Anderson said nothing, wondering at a statement that was quite uncharacteristic of the last several administrations, and especially this one. Wouldn’t it be something if this weasel were sincere?
“I’ll begin for VCE, then Homeland, FBI, CIA, DIA, then NSA.” Kellerman’s elbows were pointed on the table, his spread fingers pressed together fingertips to fingertips. He looked across them at Dr. Anderson on the opposite end of the long table. His expression was heavy. “The elephant in the room is violent crime. It’s fundamentally why we’re in this room today.
“The Great Crime Spike of 2016 is the great demarcation. It’s when the Titantic hit the iceberg, so to speak.”
Titantic? thought Dr. Anderson. Did an IC head just refer to the nation as the Titantic?
“Obviously, everyone was shocked. But we adjusted as best we could and hoped it was an anomalous one-time spike. It wasn’t, of course, but it took a few years for us to discover that we were taking on water.”
“That’s when you guys started pushing harder than ever for more gun control laws,” said Anderson.
“That’s when they started pushing for more gun control laws. It wasn’t our party.” Kellerman pressed his lips apologetically. “Well, this really is no place for partisan pontificating, is it? But I think it’s without debate that 2019-2020 was when the government first panicked. That’s when politicians started promising anything in the name of law and order, and when the government first started trying everything in the name of law and order.”
Kellerman knew the man sitting across from him. “Sometimes it helps to sit in another person’s chair…to see what he sees. There were more murders in the 1990s than there were from 2000 to 2009. The 90s ended with a total of 211,664 murders. In contrast, there were 163,068 murders the next decade—a big drop. And the trend from 2010 to 2015 was even lower. In 2015, there were 15,696 murders. Then bam! The Great Crime Spike of 2016.
“We went from 15,696 murders to 71,500 murders. To seventy-one thousand and five hundred murders. Seventy-one five. How does this happen? And that’s not even considering the increase in rapes, and robberies, and aggravated assaults. There were over 425,000 rapes—a five hundred percent increase…in one year. Same with robberies and aggravated assaults. Four hundred and fifty-six percent and 482 percent increase, respectively. No one was ready for that. How could they have been? So, yeah, they tried some crazy stuff to deal with the spike.”
Dr. Anderson knew this man and his boss were rotten to the core. Yet, he found himself reluctantly sympathizing, even empathizing, with this man. A five-hundred percent increase in violent crime in one year? What would he have done had he been in charge? What had he done at the time except criticize the government’s missteps?
“Now here we are thirty-four years later,” said Kellerman. “They thought 2016 was bad. But we are living a nightmare that never ends. It just keeps getting worse. We don’t have the figures yet for last year, but in 2048 there were nearly a half-million murders and three million rapes. Ironically, there would’ve been a lot more rapes had tens of thousands of would-be rapists not been killed by the women they were trying to rape. The country’s gone mad. On the surface things look normal, but the country’s a war zone.
“And Dr. Anderson, that’s why we’re here. It’s why we asked you to come. The nation can’t stand much more of this. People have taken the law into their own hands. It’s used to be that you had a prepper militia here and there, but you knew where they were, and for the most part they didn’t bother anyone.”
“That was a long time ago,” said Susan Chiang, the Homeland Security Secretary.
“Decades,” said Kellerman. “Now practically everyone’s in a militia of some sort. And they’re not just in Idaho or Montana or Wyoming. They’re in California and New York and everywhere in between. And those who aren’t in some kind of militia or so-called CSDGs, community self-defense groups, are armed to the teeth and will shoot you if you sneeze behind them.
“People are marching and demonstrating everywhere. Some of the demonstrations are in the tens of thousands. That last one in San Francisco—Portland, both of th
ose ran upwards of fifty thousand. Thank God they didn’t turn into riots like some of the others. And the Ku Klux Klan is threatening a million-person march on D.C., as is the Armed African Americans Alliance.”
The DIA director leaned forward in his chair. “Let me get this straight. The KKK and the AAAA are both planning to march on D.C.?”
“At the same time,” said Kellerman. “And the NALR says they’re joining the party.”
“NALR?” said the Lieutenant General. “Just who the hell is the N—A—L—R?”
“They’re the Never Again Latino Resistance,” answered the FBI director.
The three-star general looked as though someone had just told him he was really a woman. “The Never Again Latino Resistance.”
“They’re what you get when the government tries to round up thirty million Hispanics the way it did the Japanese in the 1940s,” said the FBI director.
Kellerman shot a hard look at her. His department had been involved in that fiasco, as had Homeland Security. Its director also appeared miffed at the mention of it.
“We’ve got a thousand hot spots all around the nation flaring up here and there,” said Kellerman, “and ten times that many just waiting to join the fray. It won’t take much. And everyone is armed.” Kellerman looked at the CIA director.
David Beams had completely recovered. One would never have known that the smartest man to ever live had just recently provoked him out of his characteristic calm and thoughtful demeanor. “Dr. Anderson, there are some foreign entities who feel America may now be low-hanging fruit, waiting to be picked.”
“He’s cleared for everything,” said Kellerman to the CIA director.
“Very well,” said Beams. “China and Russia have both been arming and bankrolling some American militias through proxies. So have the Iranians. They’re hoping to pick up the pieces after we have our own civil war. Some of these militias are now as weaponized as a Marine battalion, minus air support, tanks, field artillery, and vehicles. And for all we know they may have field artillery.”
“That’s scary enough,” said the DIA director, “but we can deal with them. It would be messy, but we’d knock all hell out of the militias if we had to. What we cannot do is win a war with two hundred million armed citizens, some of which are very heavily armed.”
Dr. Anderson found himself carrying the full weight of their dismal reports. How could he not be so affected? He loved America. This was his home. It wasn’t that they had shared anything new, except for Russia, China, and Iran. What was new was hearing from the lips of the FBI director, the DIA director, the Homeland Security Secretary, and the Violent Crime Eradication director what the rest of the nation already knew. That one no longer had to die to get to hell. One only had to come to America.
Chapter 10
Nonetheless, he had something to say, too. For although the mysterious Great Crime Spike of 2016 had done irreparable damage to the nation, so had this administration and others since 2020. The world had seen similar things play out repeatedly in nations where governments had forgotten they were servants and not lords of the people. Governments that had used crises, real or imagined, to seize more power over the people.
“Please explain, General Matthews,” said Anderson, “why the common citizen would attack the soldiers of its own nation?”
“For several reasons.” This was the Deputy Director of Violent Crime Eradication, Alan Christian. “There’s the obvious—violent crime. People are fearful. From their perspective, their government is incapable of protecting them. They resent that. Then there’s the cruel irony. They march and demand that we do something, but when do try to do something, influential people convince them that we’re trashing the Constitution and trying to turn the nation into an oligarchy or a dictatorship.”
Dr. Anderson looked at Director Kellerman. “I appreciate the politeness, but we did agree that there’d be no crap.”
“We did,” said Kellerman.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I financially support local police departments across America with salary supplements and equipment grants. Last year it was to the tune of two hundred and thirteen million dollars. You don’t spend that much money on something unless you highly value it. I obviously do. I sympathize with them. They have the hardest jobs in America. I think we can all agree on at least that point. And we simply can’t exist as a society without them.
“But I don’t any more trust them than I trust you—and I’m a white billionaire. Do you know why? It’s because they have guns and they are scared and they don’t know when they pull me over whether I’m going to shoot them…and, and I have to add this, some of them are as crazy as the nuts in prison. The Great Crime Spike didn’t pass them by, you know. You can barely go a day without watching a video of one of them beating someone half to death or even murdering them. How many times do you have to witness cops brutalizing or murdering someone before you feel you’re next?
“I support them, but the local cops have made the mistake you’ve made. They’ve overreacted. They see the communities they’re in as war zones, and the people who live there as probable combatants. They act like occupying armies rather than protectors of the community. Of course people are going to resent and distrust you when you behave that way.”
“Yeah, well getting regularly shot at from your six will do that to you,” snapped General Matthews.
“I don’t claim to have any experience of being shot at from my six,” Anderson answered. “But I do have thirty years of experience watching the federal government act like common thugs, particularly the intelligence community. And some of those escapades where you’ve been caught with your pants down have been well publicized. Assassinations, voter fraud, illegal wiretapping of Supreme Court Justices, intimidating and blackmailing federal and Supreme Court Justices, intimidating, blackmailing, and bribing U.S. Senators, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
“I do have thirty-four years of watching the federal government use the Great Crime Spike as a pretext to systematically try to strip away everything but the ink from the Bill of Rights. Remember the Citizens Security Act of 2036? Operation Cold Barrel? Sunday, May 4th. Your first and only attempt to physically take the guns of American citizens.
“How ironic. It’s now celebrated as the prepper’s Independence Day. The day American citizens showed the government that if they came for their guns, they’d get their bullets instead. If I’m not mistaken, that was the first time since the Revolutionary War that common citizens fought back in mass with weapons against the government. And that was your…own…doing.”
“That was a bloody day, Dr. Anderson,” said General Matthews, “and you talk about it like the lawbreakers should be given a prize. People were shot. Whose side are you on?” His last words sounded like they were shot from a gun.
“Of course people were shot. What do you expect? The FBI and VCE and everyone you can get a vest on invade Humble, Texas and demand that everyone give up their guns. Texas of all places! What were you people thinking? Guess you figured if you could take down a Texas city, everything else would be easy.”
Susan Chiang, the Homeland Secretary spoke up. “We only wanted their assault weapons, Dr. Anderson. They could’ve kept their revolvers, shotguns, and single-bolt action rifles. Common citizens don’t need assault weapons.”
No one in the room had been a part of that humiliating defeat of federal force. After all, it had been fourteen years ago. But the images of hundreds of federal agents being chased away not only by the residents of Humble, but by a thousand armed citizens from neighboring cities was burned in all of their minds.
Dr. Anderson let out an exasperated breath. He was seated in a room with seven of the most powerful people in America, and the president himself was unofficially in attendance, and he had just heard the Secretary of Homeland Security distill to three sentences the collective ignorance and arrogance of a government run amuck.
“Secretary Chiang, with all due respect, since when is a semi-
automatic handgun an assault weapon? A semi-automatic shoots one bullet each time the trigger is pulled. An assault weapon is a machine gun. It shoots as many bullets as you’ve got until you take your finger off the trigger. Now since the sale or transfer of machine guns to civilians was banned in 1986, just how many machine guns were you hoping to confiscate?
“How many crimes were the imperial feds trying to prevent by confiscating weapons that your own studies show less than one percent of them are used in crimes? Truth is, Secretary, you weren’t after assault weapons. You were after these.” He pulled back both sides of his jacket, revealing his Glock on one side and his Sig Sauer on the other. “And had I been there, I would’ve lit into your fascist—”
The Secretary gasped.
Dr. Anderson stopped himself.
Lieutenant General Matthews jumped to his feet and pounded the desk. His eyes blazed into Anderson. “Dr. Anderson, I’ve had about as much of you as I can stand! A semi-automatic is not an assault weapon! A machine gun is not a semi-automatic!” He glared at the Secretary, then back at Anderson. “While you two are quibbling about what is and what isn’t an assault weapon and who has one, I will tell both of you who has them.
“The Chinese and the Russians and the Iranians have them, and they are trying to get them into this country for the bloodbath they’re trying to foment. Now, Dr. Anderson, can you set aside that gigantic ego of yours for a little while so we can discuss what in hell we’re going to do to save our nation?”
The president smiled grimly in the privacy of the Oval Office. Give him hell, General. Someone needs to put that butthole in his place.
Dr. Anderson obliged. The meeting went on for several hours, longer than anyone had anticipated. Then Director Kellerman looked at the CIA director and nodded. Director Beams said, “Dr. Anderson, we don’t have any evidence except anecdotal, but we feel that the Great Crime Spike may have been man-made.”
“Did you do it?” asked Dr. Anderson.