Election Day: A Harry Cassidy Novel

by Henry Hack

  There was a P.S. for Harry which said, “Hello, Hoppy. Hope you are still keeping an open mind. No pressure – yet. Let me know. This e-mail box will close in twenty-four hours. Regards, Chris.

  Harry was relieved. He did not have to follow Susan’s sage advice right now. He could wait to disappoint Chris and the Committee a while longer. He smiled and typed in. “Mind still open. Semper Fi.”

  Chapter Nine

  The visit with Phil and Mary was a wonderful respite from the boredom of unemployment. They discussed the contents of the package they had recently received and concluded that this endeavor may actually happen. Both knew when general principles were turned into specific plans and targets, the Minutemen’s campaign would be imminent. Harry and Susan continued on to Nevada and spent a few days in Vegas and a week in the Reno/Tahoe area. Their finances were holding up okay and they were looking forward to their favorite time of year in the city – Christmas – with all its festive lights, decorations and, of course, the magnificent tree in Rockefeller Center.

  But first a sojourn to Pennsylvania promised to be a joyful visit. Patty was due to deliver a baby boy a few days before Thanksgiving, and that brought Harry’s thoughts around to what kind of future was in store for this innocent child. Would he become a government slave, or a proud American free to pursue his own dreams?

  Timothy Harold Mahaffey was born on schedule on November 20 to John and Patricia Mahaffey with all the family gathered together for the first time in a long time. Lizzy came down from New York with her latest FBI boyfriend, a blond-haired, blue-eyed giant named Pete, with an unpronounceable Polish last name. They all stayed together with Harry’s ex-wife Peggy, and her husband Tom, at their big house outside Allentown.

  The baby, brown-haired with blue eyes, who weighed in at nine and a half pounds at birth, came home with his parents and three days later they appeared at Peggy’s for the traditional Thanksgiving Day feast. After they were all sufficiently stuffed, Harry found himself in the den with Lizzy and Pete. They were watching one of the traditional Thanksgiving Day NFL football games – Detroit Lions vs. Dallas Cowboys. “Pete played football for Florida State,” Lizzy said to her father.

  “No kidding,” he said. “I played in high school. Seems a long time ago now.”

  “What position?”

  “Tight end, until some monster linebacker like you tore my knee up and ended my career and future dreams of glory.”

  “Sorry to hear that, sir,” Pete said, “and you guessed correctly. I was an outside linebacker and had dreams of the NFL until my knee got ripped up, too.”

  “Too bad, but I’m sure football’s loss was a great gain for the FBI. Right, Lizzy?”

  “Right, Dad,” she said, snuggling up to Pete. “He’s top-notch which is why I grabbed him up before someone else did.”

  Pete blushed and Harry wondered if maybe this guy meant more to his daughter than the normal run of recent boyfriends. Pete said, “And of course sir, football’s loss produced one of the greatest law enforcement leaders of all time. You are a legend to us.”

  “Thanks Pete, we old retired guys really appreciate that from the young Turks taking our place in the fight against the bad guys.”

  “I’m sure when the next bunch of crazies bursts onto the scene and Director Kobak needs help, the first person he’ll call will be you.”

  “He sure will,” Lizzy said, “and he’ll charge out and kick all their asses again.”

  Harry laughed and said, “If you remember, my dear, on my last adventure it was Patty, Walt’s son, Nick Faliani’s daughter, and John McKee’s son who did all the ass-kicking. I’m done with it. The torch has been passed to the new generation – to you and Pete – and I feel comfortable about that.”

  “Lizzy told me a lot of stories about you, Mr. Cassidy. You will not be an easy model to live up to.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t have to. Let’s hope you and Lizzy have a normal FBI career going after individual nut jobs and maybe an ordinary serial killer or two. And by the way, as you already know, I’m a very good friend of your boss. Let me know if you want me to make a call for you.”

  “I appreciate that sir, but I’ll make the best of it on my own that I’m capable of. I enjoy working in the New York office with Lizzy right now.”

  “But if either one of us gets transferred,” Lizzy said, “you can make that call on my behalf and put a stop to it.”

  Harry smiled thinking, Wow, this is serious!

  They relaxed and watched the game when the sound on the TV was blocked out by a piercing scream from the next room. It seemed that baby Timothy had awoken from his nap and wanted food. The whole family gathered around as Peggy picked the red-faced creature up and put him on the changing table. Patty knew not to interfere with Grandma as she expertly changed his disposable diaper, hugged him, and gave him back to her daughter saying, “Go feed him.”

  “Maybe he’ll want a drumstick,” Harry said. “He looks like he could handle it.”

  Peggy’s parents – Patrick and Kathy O’Rourke – were there also. In their late seventies they were now great-grandparents, a notable achievement not reached by many couples. And Harry was a grandfather at the age of fifty-two. He did not feel old, but the word grandfather made him reflect. His ex-wife poked him in the ribs and said, “You look very solemn, Grandpa.”

  “That’s what I was solemn about, Grandma.”

  “Well,” she said, “I’m happy and surprised that you made it this far in life. How many times was he shot, Susan?”

  “Twice, and you were there in the hospital the first time. Four bullets in him, and two in his vest. The second time was just two in the vest – only bruises.”

  “Told you they couldn’t kill me,” Harry said. “And now you don’t have to worry about this old retired cop anymore.”

  “No, but now we all have to worry about Lizzy,” Peggy said.

  * * *

  Harry and Susan returned to Manhattan and made their social plans for the Christmas season. They decided to visit the tax-free state of Florida for a few weeks after New Year’s and do a thorough evaluation of its various areas. They liked Texas but had ruled out Nevada as a permanent home after the visit. New Hampshire was a possibility, and it was closer to New York than the other choices, but probably too cold for their taste.

  Florida might just be the ideal place and their visit confirmed that, both being especially impressed with the Sarasota area. As they sat in their living room poring over maps and tourist information, the phone rang and Susan answered it. It was her old boss, Jimmy Halloran, and he had a proposition for her. She spoke awhile and when she hung up she turned to Harry and said, “I have a job offer.”

  “I sort of figured that from what you were saying to Jim. Tell me about it.”

  “The firm wants to take on the defense of a big product liability suit and I was their lead litigator in that field. I would be an independent contractor at five hundred an hour plus expenses.”

  “What’s the lawsuit about this time? I mean you lawyers have sued just about every company out there for everything imaginable – asbestos, nicotine, fluoride, hot coffee, and alcohol – what’s left?”

  “Do I detect bitterness, my dear, about our legal system? At least we lawyers don’t go around killing people like The Romens and the jihadists did.”

  “No, you force them into bankruptcy and then they kill themselves.”

  “Are you going to listen, or continue with your insults?”

  Harry smiled and said, “Sorry, dear. Go ahead. We could use the money.”

  “The suit’s based on brain damage caused by radiation from cell phones.”

  “I thought they studied that and concluded there was no danger at all.”

  “They did, but now there are new studies and the researchers claim they can prove that the damages are real, significant and permanent. The lawyers are suing the major providers and manufacturers, and yours truly will be part of the defense team.”


  “How long will this assignment last?

  “About six months, maybe a bit longer. Should pay about a half million before taxes.”

  “I’m assuming you want to do this?”

  “Sure, if it’s okay with you. I’m bored sitting home.”

  “Of course it’s okay with me. At least one of us will be earning a living and have a reason for getting up in the morning.”

  “Just make sure my cocktail is still ready and waiting for me when I get home from the office,” she said with a smile. But she was worried about Harry. He was not a man of idleness. He needed something to occupy him, and now that they would not be moving any time soon, his employment opportunities would remain almost nonexistent.

  “I wonder what the Minutemen are up to,” Harry said. “I’m looking forward to that next meeting; at least it’s something to do.”

  “You’re bound to hear something soon. Didn’t they say they planned their next meeting in the spring?”

  “Yeah, but I wonder if they are really going to go through with their plans.”

  “Who knows?” she said hoping that even the Minutemen – saviors or demons that they may be – would provide her husband with a reason to get out of bed every day.

  * * *

  Susan was two months into her job when the call came for Harry to attend the next meeting. The email message simply said, “A package including airline tickets, lodging information, and a meeting agenda will be in the mail to you within a few days. Looking forward to seeing you once again. The Committee.”

  Finally, something to do! The cold New York winter was dragging on his psyche. How many books could he read? How many TV shows could he watch? How many museums and movie theaters could he go to? How many times could he bug Charlie Carson or his daughter Lizzy to have lunch with him?

  Five days later Harry eagerly ripped open the package when it finally arrived. The flight tickets were to Casper, Wyoming with a plane change to Cody where he would be housed at a Sheraton Five Points Hotel. The agenda was not specific, only referring to business meetings in the mornings and free time/sightseeing in the afternoons of the two-day affair.

  Harry called Phil MacDonald, who had also received his package and said, “It seems they are getting down to the nitty-gritty.”

  “Well it’s about time don’t you think? It’s only seven months to the election. They have to do something soon.”

  When Harry informed Susan of the impending trip she said, “I’m glad something is finally happening to get your juices flowing a bit.”

  “I’ll be thinking of you when I’m partying in the great wide open state of Wyoming,” he said nudging her in the ribs.

  “Yeah, you and the elk and the bison. Have a ball.”

  “You know, Wyoming is a tax-free state, too.”

  “What do they have out there to tax? How many people live in that wilderness anyway?”

  “Barely enough to qualify for one seat in the House of Representatives. In fact they have a bit less, but the constitution says every state must have at least one representative regardless of the count. And, according to the Reverend Alton Phineas, that wilderness is almost free of dirty fossil fuel dependence and runs a budget surplus.”

  “No income tax and a budget surplus?” I have to assume there are no liberal Democrats out there to spread the wealth into their favorite giveaway programs.”

  “Nary a one,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Makes Wyoming a very attractive place, and we shouldn’t rule it out until further exploration.”

  “We’ll see. Now I have to do some work on my case. See you in the morning, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be up before you to finish packing, but we’ll probably head out the door together. I’ll turn in after the late news.”

  * * *

  After an on-time, uneventful flight on which Harry thought he recognized two or three invitees from the previous meeting, a car service took him from the Yellowstone Regional Airport to the Sheraton in Cody. Phil MacDonald had already arrived and after Harry checked in they met in the lounge for a drink. “Here we are at a hotel bar again,” Phil said. “A repeat of D.C., but it’s already over a year later.”

  “What do think, Phil? Are the Minutemen now ready to strike?”

  “I’m guessing they are, and I’m guessing we’ll get the details tomorrow.”

  As in Washington, a bus took them – a total of twenty – to the conference location on the vast grounds of the Church of Universal Brotherhood as Harry and Phil had expected when they found out that Wyoming was their destination. They entered a low building about a hundred yards from the massive, twin-spired church which strikingly resembled St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York. A second bus arrived as they were entering and when they were all seated it appeared only forty of the sixty original attendees in Washington were present, twenty apparently not making the cut, or opting out for reasons of their own.

  Christopher Steadman took the podium and welcomed them once more. “The time is at hand. We will strike soon. Thank you all for your financial support, but more importantly for your moral, legal and political support. The majority of this morning’s session will be devoted to finalizing our target list of national individual races. This will be tedious work, but necessary. We want to make sure that there are no mistakes. We will start with the senate races.”

  The lights were dimmed and a big screen, which had just descended, lit up with the first slide which had room for five races on it. Harry noted the one race in New York which showed the two-term liberal incumbent defending his seat against a challenge from a veteran Republican-Conservative state senator. There were two numbers next to the incumbent. The first – in green – was 69% and represented his current lead in the polls. The second – in red – was 92% and represented his degree of liberalism, with 100% being the highest. Senator Joseph Maickelman was liberal indeed Christopher explained. “Any rating above 80% borders on socialism. Over 90% he might as well be a communist. Maickelman has to go. Any dissentions?”

  There were none, but a few developed as the morning moved on. Most of the arguments centered on the fact that both the Democrat and Republican candidates were too liberal for their tastes. These races were chiefly in those states where a Tea Party candidate or a true Conservative-Republican had no chance of winning at all – states like New York, California, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Vermont and Oregon.

  “No problems in Texas,” Phil said to Harry. “The good guys are in control.”

  “For how long? Some of those races seem pretty close. Maybe the Republican hold on the Lone Star State will crumble this time around.”

  “Are you forgetting that is why we are here? It is to prevent such a thing like that from happening.”

  “No, I am not forgetting, but I’m still curious as to exactly what the Minutemen will do to accomplish that.”

  “I don’t think they are going to tell us right now.”

  “Why drag us here then?”

  “To continue to get us to spread the word to our friends and business associates as I’ve been doing all along. Haven’t you?”

  “I don’t have any business associates, and my friends and family already know how I feel about the current situation.”

  It took all morning and a few minutes into the allotted lunch time to finally settle on all the congressional and gubernatorial races. Colonel O’Grady thanked them all and said that tomorrow morning’s session should be shorter as they had only to go over a few dozen key state races and the liberal supporting groups.

  As they left the conference room for the lunch room, Chris moved up next to Harry and said, “Ready to make a decision?”

  “Yes, right after we wrap up tomorrow morning’s session.”

  “Care to tell me which way you’re leaning?”

  “No, because I truly do not know which way that is yet.”

  That was a lie because Harry had long ago decided to accept his wife’s sage advice and remain on the sidelin
es. He hated to deceive Chris, but it was just for a day. He was afraid if he had told Chris no right now he’d be sent home before he knew more of their plans. And he was really looking forward to exploring the Yellowstone area, as the brief glimpses he had so far were breathtaking.

  The afternoon was spent touring the church and grounds guided by none other than the Reverend Alton Phineas who was now casually dressed in light-blue jeans and a western-style red checkered shirt. The church was obviously Christian but doorways opened on the sides to three other separate houses of worship – a Jewish temple, a Mosque and a Roman Catholic Church. The Reverend gave a short speech explaining his all-encompassing tolerant world view. He said, “I wasn’t always like this. I was a bigoted, homophobic, white racist. I owe my change to our leader – our Committee chairman – Christopher Steadman. He showed me the light, so to speak, and explained to me who the real enemies of our great country were – and it had nothing to do with race, color, gender, sexual identity or religion, but everything to do with politics.”

  Perhaps reading Harry’s thoughts the Reverend continued, “Some time ago I made a huge mistake by giving comfort and assistance to a group of environmental terrorists who had led me to believe they would use only non-violent means to achieve their ends. They did for a while and helped us achieve energy independence, but then they resorted to excessive violence resulting in the sad and unfortunate death of many good law enforcement officers. For their horrific deeds, I am truly sorry. Chris knows I will not support or condone violence against any segment of our nation’s dedicated law enforcement community, although I recognize that the blood of some tyrants must be spilled in the Minutemen’s crusade against evil.”