by Henry Hack
The two burly detectives from the local squad immediately grabbed him and yanked him into the hallway, closed his door and hustled him to the elevator. “Stop kicking and screaming and listen up,” said one of the detectives. “A bomb just exploded in Bill Brennan’s place. The Bomb Squad is on its way here.”
Red did stop kicking and screaming and buried his face in his hands and began to sob. The other detective said, “Come on with us, Red. We’ll sit in our car and get you some coffee.”
By the time they got into the car, the Bomb Squad and their dogs had arrived and were suiting up. They entered the building and a long twenty minutes later came down carrying the bomb basket. The detectives got out of their car and asked the sergeant in charge what they had found.
“Two devices hidden in the box spring under Baker’s mattress and one concealed in the desk. They all had radio receivers attached, not timing devices.”
“So they could be triggered remotely at any time, but weren’t?” asked one of the detectives.
“That’s correct. Baker lucked out.”
“I wonder why?” said the other detective.
When Carson got the report about Baker he initiated a conference call with Walt Kobak, John McKee and Joe Ramos and related to them what had just occurred.
“Boy, that cop-hater really lucked out,” McKee said.
“Yeah,” Walt said, “but I feel bad about Brennan, and I’m sure Red does also.”
“I guess the Brennan murder becomes our case now,” Joe Ramos said.
“Now you have two,” Walt said. “Him and Congressman Aaronson. The pressure is going to increase dramatically, so I’m keeping all the Task Forces off of protective duties. I need investigators to crack this thing, so let’s get with it.”
“Yes sir,” Ramos said wondering how he was going to solve two murders committed by persons unknown belonging to an operation they knew nothing about.
* * *
The Minutemen’s contingency plan was deadly and devious. Devious in that the twenty-two liberal federal judges, all from the US District Courts and Circuit Courts of Appeal in the six most liberal states of the union, had not been included on their target list. In fact, no judges had been mentioned specifically for the reason that they knew all law enforcement protective efforts had been directed to those on the list, and none elsewhere. And deadly because all twenty-two judges were killed over a three-day period, efficiently dispatched and with no collateral damage.
President Nelson again took to the airwaves in condemnation of the Minutemen, but the targets on the list grew more nervous and liberal judges, politicians, and businessmen not on the list became very cautious and anxious indeed.
No discernible physical evidence had been recovered from the judges’ murder scenes and the nation anxiously waited for the next move by the Minutemen, or an announcement of a break in the case by law enforcement.
On Tuesday June 22, a copy of the letter that Bill Brennan refused to publish was faxed to the main news offices of the four major networks – ABC, CBS, NBC and FOX – and to the three major cable news channels – CNN, FNC, and NNN. Whereas CNN was perceived as liberal and FNC perceived as conservative, the National News Network ran stories that were neglected or ignored by the other two channels, primarily those of a religious nature, and catered strongly to the views of the so-called religious right.
Triple N, as the network was most commonly called, was founded by a coalition of groups, but the bulk of its money came from the Reverend Alton Phineas’s Church of Universal Brotherhood and was structured in ways to prevent that fact from the public domain. Entering its third year of operation, Triple N was doing surprisingly well with its viewership numbers, but still lagged well behind its two competitors. So when Alan Acorsi pulled the seven pages off the fax machine in his office, the Triple N’s news director immediately took it into his boss, Jim Anders, the president of the channel and said, “What do you think about this, Boss?”
Anders took the letter and looked at the first page. There was a photo of Bill Brennan’s apartment building and a copy of his obituary. Above the photo were the words, “DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU” in bold capital letters. Anders removed his glasses and pressed the top of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He said, “Alan, you know the President specifically requested that we, and all the other news outlets, not publish or broadcast any communications from the Minutemen.”
“I know, but I’m certain if we don’t, someone else will. Not only can we use the ratings boost, I don’t want to end up as chopped meat like Brennan. Do you?”
“Let me think about it and make a few calls.”
A half hour later Jim Anders walked into Alan Acorsi’s office and said, “I spoke to the White House press desk in Washington. It seems all the networks, and CNN and FNC, got the same fax. I was able to also find out that the President’s press secretary was told by the Minutemen in a separate fax that if we in television didn’t go with the letter, they would fax it to a few hundred newspapers. They said one of them was bound to print it, but if they didn’t, they would put it out on the internet using all available social and business networks.”
“That settles it then. Let’s run with this now. It can’t be stopped. Why not be the first?”
“I’m afraid of the government, to be honest with you, Alan.”
“That’s why these guys are doing what they’re doing. Can’t you see that?”
“What do you mean?”
“The government is controlling the press. Through intimidation they are preventing us from exercising our first amendment rights. And when they get their super majority in November, we will be on their target list to shut down. These leftists do not care for religion at all.”
“Are you telling me you believe the Minutemen are doing the right thing?”
“I sure the hell am.”
Jim Anders, a closet sympathizer with the Minutemen, was thrilled to hear the views of his news director. Thrilled that they were exactly as his. Suppressing his excitement, he put a frown on his face and said, “You are probably correct, Alan. Somebody will publish this. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be first. Do it.”
Ten minutes after Triple N interrupted their regular programming to read the Minutemen’s letter in its entirety, CNN and FNC did the same. Fifteen minutes after that all four major networks interrupted their soap operas, sporting events and situation comedies and did likewise. The dam had burst. The next morning most of the major daily newspapers published the Minutemen’s letter in their first edition. The word was out. Everyone in the nation now knew who the targets were, and why they were selected. They knew the date of the election – Tuesday, November 2, and they knew the date that decisions had to be made by the targeted politicians – Monday, September 1, just seventy-eight days away.
The next day the headlines in the major liberal newspapers screamed, Democracy Held Hostage! Nation Under Murder Threat! And similar blaring messages. The editorials blasted the Minutemen and excoriated all law enforcement for not finding and arresting these madmen who were out to destroy the very fabric of America.
The President went on television for the third time and, in his most vehement denunciation of the Minutemen yet, promised to crush their organization and capture or kill every one of them. “And,” he said, “those we capture will be tried, convicted and executed promptly under Federal Law.”
When he finished his speech, he stormed into the oval office and singled out Walt Kobak. He said, “Kobak, you heard what I just said. Now here’s a deadline of my own – August 1. If you don’t stop these guys by then, you are fired. And for any person on that list that gets killed, you can reduce that deadline by two days. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Get out of here and get to work.”
After Kobak left the room, the Vice-President said, “How are the targets holding up?”
“So far, so good, Dick. None has indicated a desire to cut and ru
n. Kobak assures me their security protection is tightly in place.”
“Like I said, I’m going out there. I believe the best defense is a good offense. We’ll show those bastards who’s in charge.”
“Go get ‘em,” the President said with a smile. “I like your style. You’ll make a great President when I’m done in six years.”
Chapter Sixteen
After the President’s speech, Susan turned toward Harry and said, “What do you think?”
“I think it was a lot of bluster, but I’m sure most of the public bought it, which is a good thing for him. He wants to keep the targets from quitting their races and wants to keep the public from panicking.”
“What do you think will happen next?”
“That’s strictly up to the Minutemen’s bag of tricks. They sure shocked everyone when they killed those judges.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the telephone. Harry picked up and Walt Kobak said, “I still want you, my friend. I need you. My nuts are in a vise.”
“How so?”
Walt related his conversation with the President and Harry asked how the situation stood now. Walt told him that all the targets had a thick blanket of agents and electronic protection surrounding them. “We have FBI, Homeland Security, BATF and Secret Service in the mix and we are really stretched thin.”
“How about the New York Task Force?”
“They have five murders already – Aaronson, Brennan, and three judges to deal with.”
“Any leads?”
“Nada, that’s why I need you.”
“Walt, I can contribute nothing. You have the best and the brightest working out there. If they can’t crack it, I certainly can’t.”
“Your visible presence, your moral support, your past successes can contribute a great deal, Harry.”
“I’m not ready to fight these guys yet. There still has been no collateral damage. I’m hoping this is the end of it and the politicians will just slither away.”
“I hope so too, but I detected a brazenness on the part of the administration to take these guys on face first. What happens if some of our guys get caught in the crossfire?”
“I’ll cross that bridge then. But for now, I’m staying on the sidelines.”
The next day Harry received a similar call from Charlie Carson. Evidently, the President or his staff had called all the state governors and big city mayors and now all the top state and local police chiefs were under the same threat as the FBI Director – crack the case by August 1, or kiss your jobs good-bye.
“Sorry to hear that, Charlie.”
“In a way, I would be relieved. I’m sick of being abused and threatened by Mayor Miller and his leftist cronies. Sometimes I wish he was on the Minutemen’s hit list.”
“I understand. I have a feeling these guys are going to throw in the towel soon.”
“The Minutemen?”
“No, the yellow politicians.”
* * *
True to his word to the President, the next evening Vice-President Richard Manworth appeared at a rally for Senator Lester Montrose in Columbus, Ohio. Montrose was a target on the Minutemen’s hit list and his re-election was considered crucial to the Democrats gaining a supermajority in the Senate. His race was in a virtual dead heat with the Republican challenger.
The college auditorium where the rally was to be held had been thoroughly swept hours before the 8:00 p.m. scheduled beginning with bomb sniffing dogs and twenty agents and local police. All locations where a firearm could be hidden were given special scrutiny – they did not want a Michael Corleone-like assassin retrieving a weapon from behind a toilet tank in the men’s room. When the room was searched to everyone’s satisfaction, uniformed and plainclothes personnel were stationed at the main entrance and at all emergency exits.
As the people began to enter the auditorium, they first had to pass through a metal scanner set at its highest sensitivity and then be subjected to a thorough pat down. No packages of any kind were allowed inside and those with cell phones or other electronic devices were told to secure them in their vehicles or be denied admission. The room was filled to its 1,200 seat capacity by 7:45, and those who came after were turned away.
At 8:10 Senator Montrose, accompanied by the Vice-President, strode into the room to thunderous applause, their security details following closely behind. They took their place on the dais joined by two Democratic congressmen, both of whom were on the hit list, and by half a dozen college officials and local politicians. Manworth came to the podium and quieted the crowd by extending his hands upward. He had a huge smile on his face as he launched into his speech denouncing the tactics of the Minutemen. He promised their threats and intimidation would neither stop the electoral process, nor the victories of progressives across the board come November.
At the conclusion of his ten minutes of fire-breathing oratory, he introduced Senator Montrose to enthusiastic cheering and applause. The Senator was equally forceful and detailed his future agenda when his party’s dominance became a reality – “A land where all share the bounty of America and everyone pays his fair share,” he intoned. “We will have a fifteen dollar minimum wage, five years of unemployment benefits, an expansion of the food stamp program and universal free health care for all citizens and guests of this great nation.”
The cheers continued as the two congressmen and a few of the local politicians took their turns at the microphone. When they were done, they took questions from the audience for well over an hour. The rally had been a huge success, but the security details came to a heightened alert as the Vice-President, Senator Montrose and the two congressmen came down from the dais to mingle and press the flesh with their adoring supporters.
The Vice-President was a security detail’s worst nightmare. This night it consisted of a dozen secret service agents and ten plainclothes detectives from the Columbus Police Department. All had been politely told by the VP’s chief of staff they must keep a wide distance from him so as not to interfere with his intimate contacts with his supporters.
Detective Dennis Powell, a fifteen-year veteran of the Columbus Police Department, noticed the uneasy looking young man making his way toward the Vice-President. The young man was dressed conservatively in a dark suit with white shirt and dark tie, but appeared more nervous the closer he got to Manworth. Powell started to shoulder his way through the jostling crowd and caught the eye of Secret Service Agent Fred Wilton. Powell motioned for Wilton to join him in moving toward Manworth. When both men were about twelve feet away from the Vice-President, the young man had already reached him with hand extended, and a big smile on his face.
Manworth smiled back and said, “Thank you for your support,” grabbing the young man’s right hand and shaking it vigorously.
When Manworth let go of the young man’s hand to move on, he could not do so as the young man drew him in closer and, using his left hand, stabbed the Vice-President in the belly with a twelve-inch long, extremely sharp length of plastic shaped like a double-edged sword blade. He then let go of Manworth’s right hand which immediately went to the wound while the young man’s right hand, leading with the base of the palm, delivered a vicious upward blow to the Vice-President’s nose, breaking it and driving cartilage and bone up into his brain.
As Vice-President Manworth sank to the floor, Detective Powell and Agent Wilton shouted out, “Get him! He attacked the Vice-President! Don’t let him get away!”
Pandemonium broke out as the police and crowd tried to grab the attacker. All the men on the security details rushed inside to assist. Finally, an agent shouted, “Here he is! I got him!”
They had him, all right, but the Vice-President of the United States was dead.
By running inside to assist their fellow officers, a fatal mistake had been made. The vehicles of the senator and the two congressmen, which had been thoroughly searched prior to the event, were left unattended for almost half an hour as order was being restored in the auditorium. Th
is was more than enough time for the Minutemen to install remote-controlled bombs under the back seats which the politicians always occupied as they moved from location to location.
The Minutemen waited until the vehicles were a quarter of a mile away from the auditorium before sending the signal to trigger the explosives. In each vehicle, an FBI agent driver, a member of congress, and a wife were ripped to shreds by the powerful blasts.
The Minutemen had struck again and the campaign had escalated to a new level. For the first time, three targets on the hit list had been killed. For the first time, collateral damage had occurred in the form of three innocent civilian wives and three seasoned, dedicated FBI agents. For the first time in history, a Vice-President had been assassinated.
And for the first time, a Minuteman was in custody.
* * *
A thorough search of the captured assailant revealed that the weapon he had used was secreted in the lining of the left sleeve of his suit jacket. Being plastic, it had been undetectable by the metal scanners and was obviously missed during the pat down. A full body search failed to reveal any other weapons, but his muscular naked body did reveal half a dozen tattoos that led the FBI and police investigators to believe he was a member of a biker gang.
When asked his identity and address he replied, “My name is Paul Revere, American patriot, and I live in red state.” There was no document on his person to dispute that statement. When informed that he would be charged with killing the Vice-President of the United States he said, “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Then he smiled and said, “I want a lawyer from the LFFJ. If you can find one.”
The suspect said no more and his fingerprints were not on file in any database in the nation. What appeared to be the first break in the case was rapidly turning into a dead end.