A NATION DIVIDED - THE SECOND CIVIL WAR (The Second Civil War - BOOK I 1)

by Marshall Huffman

  “Even so, it worked to our advantage,” Sarah replied.

  “Big deal. Unless I do a handstand on the front lawn it will be back down next month. People just want instant gratification, anything less and they get bored.”

  There was nothing left for anyone to say. The meeting was going to be a disaster and no one was immune from his anger.

  “That group that killed those Guardsmen in Florida. What is being done about that?” the President asked, changing directions.

  “The FBI has sent a team to Crestview, Florida and are working the case,” Adam Little told the President.

  “Working the case. Working the case. Just what the hell does that mean? They know who did it and are going after them?”

  “I’m not sure where they stand at this point. I know they are following up on leads.”

  “In other words, they don’t know squat at this point.”

  “I’ll check the stats as soon as we are finished here,” Little said.

  “How clever. This meeting isn’t productive. No one has anything useful so you can go about your duties. One thing I want to make clear. I want those responsible for the Florida killings tracked down. I want everything done to find them and bring them to justice. I intend to make an example out of those thugs,” the President said.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “He is in rare form today,” Little said as the came out of the meeting.

  “I guess he had a knockdown drag out with the VP yesterday so we get the aftermath.”

  “I’ll say this, the VP showed more balls that I thought he had.

  “Hey, what’s he got to lose? After he was cut out of the meetings he knew the President wasn’t going to do anything to help him down the road. Now that the gloves are off he can stand up to the President,” Roland replied.

  “What do you think about Quasim? You think he is losing it?”

  “Well, he has always been wound a little tight. This gun thing is like an obsession with him. Honestly, I don’t think we can stop people from having guns. Sure we got a few million from citizens but they aren’t the ones out robbing and killing people. The crooks don’t register their guns so you can bet they still have them.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t answer my question. Is he still in control?” Little asked.

  “In control? Hell I don’t know what that means any longer. His mood swings seem to be getting more pronounced. He is like a rubber ball. Up, down, up, down. Maybe he is becoming bi-polar.”

  “Maybe the stress is making him bi-polar. You know, it won’t take much more before the people really turn against the Administration. The Operation Clean Sweep thing is still out there festering. This isn’t something that can be swept under a rug. They can’t put the usual Washington Spin on it this time,” Roland replied.

  “All I can say is that if everything comes out, it is going to get ugly really fast. People will take to the streets in the hundreds of thousands. It will be hard for Quasim to survive.”

  “I’m afraid you're right,” was all Roland said.

  ***

  “We may have gotten a break,” Agent Crowley said.

  “You got a DNA match?”

  “As big as life. Bobby Lane. He was in the DNA data bank. His blood matches what we found in the rec-room.”

  “Son of a gun. Okay, where can we find this jerk?”

  “We are tracking that down. The strange thing is that his last address was in Valdosta, Georgia. That is quite a ways from home.”

  “Maybe he has moved. He might be harder to track down if he has.”

  “Terry is working on that as we speak. Rachel is checking for militia groups in Valdosta to see if that gives any leads,” Crowley said.

  “Why would they come all that way?”

  “Explosives. Not many places have that kind of stuff in such large quantities. They must have known that most of the Guard was down in Pensacola helping out.”

  “Maybe that means they had someone on the inside helping them.”

  “Humm. I guess we should look into that possibility. If we can find a connection it will make tracking them down a lot easier.”

  “I’ll get the personnel files and start going through them.”

  “I’ll go talk to the Commander and see if he knows of any links,” Crowley said.

  “With any luck we may be able to get a line on these bastards.”

  “That would sure be good. The boss is getting a hell of a lot of heat. I hear it is coming all the way from the White House.”

  “In that case, this is a good time to be out of Washington and out in the field.”

  “Amen to that brother,” Crowley replied.

  ***

  “We got them. The group calls themselves the Valdosta Patriots. From what we have gathered so far there seem to be about twenty or so hard core members and a few that drift in and out.”

  “Did you find where they are located exactly?”

  “We are working on it. We know they have a place they go to off of Billy Langdale Parkway just around a creek called Brooks/Lowndes. They have a thirty acre parcel of land. Charlie is working on pinning it down.”

  “As soon as they get a fix on the location I want to notify the Georgia State Police to request assistance.”

  “Not the local Sheriff’s Department?”

  “I think it would be best to leave them out of this until we spring the trap. I’ll contact the Marshal’s office as well and get some of their men. I don’t think having locals involved is such a good thing. Someone may tip them off.”

  “Yeah, they're probably all inbred in that area.”

  “You know, that’s almost funny. By the way, I’m from Georgia. You might want to keep that in mind.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “You do now. Go check on the progress,” he said and walked off.

  ***

  “Agent Crowley, my men are all in place.”

  “Thank you Lieutenant Miller. I appreciate the State Police helping with this.”

  “That’s what we’re here for.”

  “Well, thanks just the same. Same for you guys. Having the US Marshal Service is always a big boost. Marshal Stern, your people are the blocking group. Some of them will undoubted try to run toward the water. You’ll be in perfect position to apprehend them.”

  “We’re set. My people know what to expect,” Marshal Stern said.

  Marshal Stern wasn’t too keen on the whole plan. Yeah, some of them would make a run for it but what bothered him the most was the State Police involvement. They were a cocky bunch in his book and he had the feeling that if anything got out of hand it would be because they started shooting first.

  His other nagging fear was that one of the State Police Officers could well have a relative or friend in the militia. If that was the case, this could get out of hand quickly.

  “Okay everyone. Let’s do this and get it over with.”

  It was late in the day and the temperature was hovering around 92 degrees with the humidity so high you could almost cut your way through it. When you add in the ammunition, weapons, and flak jackets it made it hard to move.

  Crowley moved the men up to within a few yards from where the militia had cleared out a swath of land. A log cabin and three substantial outbuildings sat in the middle of the clearing.

  It was totally quiet except for the occasional bird or chipmunk scurrying around. Crowley took out his binoculars and scanned the entire area. Six nonmilitary Hummers were parked near the main building.

  “I count six vehicles,” Crowley said into his microphone.

  “Copy.”

  “No movement.”

  “Copy.”

  “I’m going to call them out now,” Crowley said and picked up the bullhorn.

  “Men in the cabin. This is the FBI. The place is surrounded. You are to come out with your hands up.”

  It was so quiet that even the birds and other animals had stopped moving. Crowley waited.

&nbs
p; “This is Special Agent Crowley with the FBI. We know you are in the cabin. We just want to talk to you. No one will shoot, you have my word.”

  “You damn sure had better not shoot if I come out on the porch,” a deep voice from inside the cabin shouted out.

  “You have my word. No one will shoot as long as we can talk to you.”

  “Alright. I’m coming out,” the man said and the front door opened.

  A huge man with a full beard came out with a 12 gauge shotgun in his hands. He had on military pants and shirt. They were an older style from the Vietnam era.

  “Now that’s a big guy,” the man next to Crowder whispered.

  “I’m going to step out into the opening. Just stay where you are,” Crowley yelled back and stepped out from behind a tree.

  “Who am I talking to?” Crowley asked.

  “Never mind that. What do you want? This is private land. Do you have a warrant?”

  “All we want to do is talk to you right now. We are looking for Bobby Lane.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “He lives here in Valdosta. Listed as a member of the Valdosta Patriots,” Crowley said, taking another step closer.

  “No further,” the guy said.

  “Okay. I don’t like shouting much.”

  “I can hear you just fine. Now I told you I don’t know no Bobby Lane. Anything else?”

  “Maybe some of the other guys inside know him. You mind asking them?”

  “They don’t know him either.”

  “Look, we can get a warrant. I didn’t want to have to do that. All I’m asking is to tell Mr. Lane to come on out of the house. We ran the plate number on the truck over there. It’s registered to him,” Crowley said, bluffing.

  “No shit? That must be the one we found down by the creek and drug it back. We was wondering who it belonged to,” the big man said smiling.

  “Okay. Have it your way. We will go get the warrant but I will leave the place surrounded. No one is going to come in or go out of here.”

  “The hell you say. We damn sure have the right to leave and you can’t to shit about it. Now you get your ass off our property and take your Boy Scouts with you,” he said and raised the shotgun, pointing down the road.

  A shot rang out and the big man staggered back, two more came in quick succession, hitting the man. He pulled the trigger on the shotgun and then a massive fire fight broke out. Guns came out of holes in the cabin and from the upstairs windows.

  Men were yelling and shooting. Crowley saw two of his men go down but the shots didn’t seem to come from the cabin. He watched as a trap hole opened up and a guy fired, hitting one of the State Troopers in the back.

  “They have spider holes,” he shouted but before anyone could react, four more people popped up and unloaded their magazines on the men trying to work their way toward the cabin. They were trapped. The men in the cabin had the front covered and the ones in the spider holes could shoot from behind them.

  “Break off, Break off,” he yelled into his microphone but several more of his people went down. It was turning into a slaughter. He could see at least ten of his people lying on the ground. Four State Police were down as well, and the worst part was that his people were still out in the open and pinned down. A single shot, louder than the others rang out and he saw a State Policeman thrown back like a giant hand had swatted him.

  The .50 Cal BMG he thought to himself. He had to do something and fast. He grabbed the bullhorn and brought it to his mouth.

  “Cease fire. Cease fire,” he yelled.

  A huge chunk of the tree he was standing behind was ripped from the tree and the roar of the .50 caliber rifle rippled through the air.

  “Inside, Cease fire. We are going to pull back and leave. Let us get our wounded,” he shouted. The noise started to die now and finally stopped.

  “All we want to do is get our people. We won’t try anything I promise,” he said.

  “Yeah, that’s what you told Ernie but you shot him anyway.”

  “Please. Someone screwed up. Honest, we will get to the bottom of who shot him and they will pay for it.”

  “Yeah right. You can get your dead. You have fifteen minutes and then we start shooting again.”

  “Okay, I’m stepping out,” Crowley said and came out from behind the tree. He was half expecting to get shot but nothing happened.

  “Everyone, gather our wounded and see if any are dead. We need to clear out of here immediately,” the said into the microphone.

  Within minutes they were hauling the dead, dying, and wounded out of the trees back to the road. The Marshal had been smart enough to call for ambulances and a helicopter when he heard the shooting start.

  Agent Crowley sat on the guard rail. He was still shaking. Marshal Stern looked over at him but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The look of disgust pretty much said it all.

  Nine FBI agents were killed and seven wounded. Six State Police were killed and four more wounded. None of the Marshal’s men were engaged in the shootout. Only the big man on the porch, Ernie, was killed from the militia as far as they knew.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “I want them all arrested and brought to justice,” the President said angrily.

  “Sir. I know it sounds bad but you have to keep in mind that the FBI did not have a search warrant, nor did they have probable cause. It was posted as a private area and no trespassing signs were clearly displayed. In fact we…”

  “Damn it, you aren’t listening. I want something done about these terrorists,” the President interrupted.

  “Mr. President, someone in the State Police force opened fire first. They shot and killed the spokesman for the militia. That’s when the others opened fire. They had every right to defend their property and lives.”

  “No one knows that the police opened fire first. We can certainly say that the officer was reacting to the guy raising his gun. We can spin this to make it look like he was protecting the FBI agent.”

  “I know this upsets you but I doubt that is a good thing to do. The man was standing on the porch. Someone just got overly anxious and shot him. We can’t condone that.”

  “Who is to say that is exactly what happened? Maybe he was making a threatening gesture at the FBI and the Trooper saved his life. We have altered things before. Why not on this?”

  “Because we have three different agencies involved and someone will tell a different story. Hell they probably have by now.”

  “Counselor, I want something done about these thugs. I want them taken into custody.”

  Ralph Larson had been the Presidential Counselor ever since Quasim was elected to office. He had found ways to skirt the law many times since he had started working with the President but this was one time that he was hesitant. The FBI clearly violated the rights of those men.

  “Noel?”

  “Sir?” the Attorney General replied.

  “What about you? Do you agree with Ralph?”

  “Mr. President I...”

  “Do you agree or not? A simple yes or no will suffice,” the President said.”

  “In that case, yes. Ralph is right. They rushed in without properly obtaining a warrant. That made all the difference in the world. They were the ones in the wrong in this incident.”

  The President looked from one of them to the other. His expression showed his displeasure with the entire situation.

  “I want Dunlap in my office in fifteen minutes. We are going to get to the bottom of this and find a way to correct this situation immediately,” he said, standing, “I want all three of you in this office in fifteen minutes.”

  “Mr. President I understand your anger at the situation. None of us like having something like this shoved down our throats but my job is to make sure the laws are adhered to.”

  “Your job is dependent upon the pleasure of the President of the United States. Mr. Haskin, I determine what your job is. Now get Dunlap and be back here in fifteen minutes,” t
he President said.

  ***

  “Mr. Director,” the President said to R.J. Dunlop, head of the FBI, “Perhaps you can enlighten us as to why the FBI did not have the necessary warrants.”

  “Sir, not to point fingers, but word came down that this matter was top priority and was to be handled with expediency. Our marching orders seemed to be pretty clear. Get the men responsible and sort it out later, after they were arrested. Actually, from the gist of the message, it seemed that arresting them was the secondary consideration.”

  The President looked at him for several seconds.

  “You’re saying that it was the White House’s fault? Is that what I am hearing?”

  “I’m saying that it was clear that our first priority, above all things, was to get these men and get it over with. The tone was clear. We will worry about the letter of the law later.”

  The President sat brooding. He knew it was true. He had personally helped draft the memo that was sent to the FBI.

  “Mr. Dunlap, and think before you answer, was there anything that said you could actually circumvent the law?”

  “If it you mean did it say specifically that the law was not in effect, then no. But as I said, the message was very clear to anyone that read it. Just do it and get it over with as fast as possible.”

  “You lost nine agents?”

  “Ten actually. One of the wounded, Tim Snow, didn’t make it,” the Director said.

  “With the proper warrants, do you think you could get the bastards?”

  “Yes sir. We can do that.”

  “Alright. I want this to be an FBI action. Do not include the local authorities in the actual operation. You can use them as necessary for backup or whatever but they are not to be included in the delivery of the warrant. Is that perfectly clear Director?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “One more thing. I would like for you to personally oversee the operation.”

  “You want me on site?”

  “That’s what I am saying.”

  “Alright sir.”

  “Good. The warrants will be issued within the hour. They will be delivered to you. You can start making the necessary arrangement in the meantime.”