by Joe Nobody
He paused momentarily, deliberating whether his intense need for absolution outweighed his hedonistic desire to avoid facing how he screwed up so many lives. Realizing that he was at the confessional point of no return, he continued. “…Figured with that quick trigger finger of yours, you’d kill him… wrap up the loose ends. That’s why I assigned that case to you.”
Zach felt ignorant, like a puppet who just discovered he had strings. “When I brought Hendricks out, you couldn’t let him talk. He’d expose your son.”
Alcorn barely nodded. “I was there just to make sure the FBI teams didn’t take him alive. I heard over the radio that you were going in. So I separated myself from the group of rangers I’d brought with me. I wandered off in the woods to take a piss and found a good place to take the shot.”
Zach could connect the dots from there. Kara Hendricks’s call and the documents in the lockbox had re-exposed the major’s son.
As the young ranger’s supervisor, Alcorn was uniquely positioned to know the inner workings of Zach’s life – both professional and personal. No doubt the major had put Zach under surveillance, probably from the moment he’d left the bank branch. Those papers were the key, Zach realized, his neurons firing in rapid succession, assimilating his newfound information with the events of the past. Ross Garcia had died, not because of the damage he could do to Heidi Clifton, but due to the threat the court documents posed to Aaron Miller.
Zach’s mind was compiling the facts far too quickly to acknowledge Alcorn’s remark. The ranger suddenly stiffened, the dawning horror of his boss’s level of corruption becoming subjective again. “You are the one who called Buffalo and warned him we were coming. I was supposed to have been the first one through that door,” he muttered.
The major nodded, “You were damned lucky. Too lucky. I was running out of time and getting desperate. Taking your girl was the only way I knew for sure to get to you.”
Zach’s deepening scowl exposed his growing anger. Data assimilation and somewhat objective interpretation of events had begun to yield to a flurry of emotion. The man who he thought embraced and embodied the legacy of the Texas Rangers had taken innocent life… had ordered Zach’s execution… had kidnapped Cheyenne…. had desecrated not only his pledge to “protect and serve,” but also violated any sense of morality he might have ever claimed.
Sputtering again, Alcorn seemed to make one last ditch effort at defending his actions. “I know you don’t have any children yet, but you’ll understand when you do,” he whispered in a voice growing weaker by the second.
Alcorn stopped talking, his chest’s heaving struggle now slower, longer gaps between rise and fall. A few cycles later, it stopped.
Zach checked for a pulse, the act more from habit than any hope of the man beside him still having a heartbeat. Alcorn was dead.
For a few moments, the ranger just sat, staring at the man he’d esteemed and trusted for years. The betrayal stung, its ache enhanced even further by the fact that Zach had considered Alcorn a mentor.
He shook it off, the throbbing in his own body shortly overriding his mental torment. He needed help. Soon.
The ranger fought to stand. Reaching through the patrol car’s open door, he felt for the deputy’s pulse and found none. The odd angle of the man’s head was something Zach had seen before. A broken neck… at least he went quickly, he mused.
Zach managed the radio’s microphone. “This is Ranger Zachariah Bass,” he broadcasted. “There’s been a collision; shots fired. I need help, officer down. I repeat, officer down.”
The dispatcher responded, but Zach couldn’t make out the words. His legs wouldn’t support weight any longer. Sliding slowly down to the pavement, his back against the cruiser, Zach stared at Alcorn’s body, waiting for help to arrive.
Chapter 15 - Birth
Zach couldn’t get accustomed to having only one workable limb, a small bead of hospital orange juice dribbling down his chin after his clumsy attempt to drink with the wrong hand. The doctors had predicted it would be another few weeks before he could start therapy on his right arm.
The appearance of two large men entering his room caused fleeting concern, but it passed quickly when he recognized both as fellow rangers. “Ah, how nice of you boys to pay a visit to an injured comrade. Are y’all on the clock?” Zach joked.
One of them smirked, the other shaking his head as they took up positions on either side of the threshold. Governor Simmons entered the room.
“How are you feeling, Ranger Bass?” the state’s chief executive asked with a smile.
Before Zach could respond, Detective Temple joined the gathering.
“I’m recovering, sir,” Zach answered, completely astonished by the politician’s appearance. “I hope to return to duty soon.”
Simmons waved off the statement. “There’ll be plenty of time for that, son. Do you feel up to having a quick discussion?”
Perplexed, Zach glanced at Sam. Her soft smile and reassuring nod set the ranger at ease. “Of course, sir. How can I be of service?”
Simmons peered over his shoulder at the two bodyguards, a nod from his head sending both men out of the room. The door closed behind them.
“Go ahead, Detective, feel free to bring our wounded warrior up to speed,” Simmons directed, moving to take a chair.
Sam moved to Zach’s bedside. “While you’ve been in here slacking off, I’ve been working to fill in the gaps of Major Alcorn’s story. With the pending secession referendum and highly charged political atmosphere, Governor Simmons requested that I handle the situation confidentially.”
Zach acknowledged her words, signaling her to continue.
“Two of the men with Alcorn the night of the kidnapping survived. They’re singing like birds in my lockup. They were cartel enforcers who owed the good major a favor.”
“He dirtied his hands with the cartel, too?” Zach asked.
“Not until they tried to kill him. Alcorn was hurting the boys down in Mexico. They put out a contract on his life. You bumbled into the middle of it a long time ago.”
Zach nodded, remembering the NY Jets gym bag.
“As far as we can tell, the major didn’t completely cross over to the dark side until Abe Hendricks took a shot at Clifton’s plane. Reading between the lines, Alcorn was driven to protect his son’s political career regardless of cost. When it looked like Aaron Miller would be tied to Hendricks, I believe your boss lost touch with reality. He cut a deal with the Mexicans, exchanging who knows what for some of their muscle. That’s who tried to kill you in Washington. That’s who helped with the kidnapping. It’s pretty clear he was suffering from some deep-seated guilt complex over not being a good father.”
Shaking his head, Zach kept the story going. “When it looked like his son was going to become one of the most powerful people in the world, the Major starting pulling out all the stops to make that happen. He hired that pervert in Houston to acquire the original court papers in Louisiana.”
“And then Kara Hendricks found the lockbox key,” Sam finished. “He knew you had copies of those documents and probably had a good idea what you were going to do with them. When he verified the journalist only had a recently-made copy, he had to come after you.”
“He tried to kill me twice, and when that didn’t work, he went after Cheyenne,” Zach finished.
Simmons interjected, “But as far as we know, Aaron Miller was completely unaware of his father’s activities. There’s no evidence to indicate his involvement.”
The ranger didn’t buy that, but the governor’s statement didn’t leave much room for debate. “I know you didn’t come all the way over here to fill me in, Governor. I have a feeling there’s more,” Zach said.
Flashing his now nationally recognized smile, Simmons responded, “Detective Temple has convinced me that you still hold these incriminating documents. I came to discuss your intentions going forward.”
With a suspicious tone, Zach urged, “Go on.”
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“What you do with those papers is up to you,” Simmons began. “But I would like to ask personally that you not drag the Texas Rangers into what is sure to be a firestorm of outrage. Major Alcorn was wrong, and the organization should have caught on long ago. I’ll give you my word that I’ll take steps to make sure something like this never happens again. But, our people are going to need the rangers, Zach. If we do secede, they’ll need to have faith in an honorable organization. I only ask that you keep that in mind, whatever you choose to do.”
Zach merely nodded, not quite sure what to say. With the purpose of his visit over, the governor glanced at his watch and announced, “I’ve got to be going, Ranger Bass. Good luck and heal quickly. I’ll leave you two officers to talk things over.”
And with that, Simmons was gone.
Zach remained silent, staring out the window to avoid Sam’s inquisitive stare. Memories of Alcorn’s speech about the importance of the rangers’ community floated through his mind.
“The triangle of survival,” he whispered, flashing Sam a knowing smile.
Two days later, one of the most important headlines in the country’s history appeared across the New York Times.
“White House’s Miller in Cover-up,” ran the Grey Lady, complete with two columns on the front page and three supporting back-stories.
At first, President Clifton merely shrugged, her breakfast barely disturbed by the breaking news. As the day wore on, she began to reconsider.
Like starving dogs, the media sunk its teeth into the story and wouldn’t let go. Every cable network played, what in Heidi’s view was a molehill, into an Everest of dishonesty, flagrant disregard for the Second Amendment, and salacious political scandal.
Aaron appeared in front of her desk, head tilted forward as if he were a scolded child. “I want to offer my resignation,” the chief of staff said. “I’m sorry I’ve brought this scandal down on your administration.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Aaron?” Heidi replied, clearly upset by his attitude. “This is just politics as usual.”
But Aaron wasn’t reassured. “Ma’am, the right has latched onto this, and they’re not going to let go. My actions almost 12 years ago are fueling their political fire, and the fact that I am your advisor is just like pouring gasoline on the blaze. Any nut case decrying the overreach of the federal government now has evidence to back his claims. The NRA is going crazy, ginning up their membership with the battle cry, ‘The government will seize your firearms – just look at who’s running the White House.’”
Heidi waved off his little speech, “Like everything else in this town, this will die down and go away. You and the people down in New Orleans were doing the best you could under impossible circumstances. I would have probably done the same thing in your shoes. The fact that the Republicans don’t like it means nothing. You’re overacting.”
“No offense, ma’am, but I would advise you not to underestimate this situation. Even before this news broke, the events after Katrina were the most effective drivers of fear mongering in our history. Even more importantly, today’s headlines are influencing the Texas referendum. The polls are showing the secession vote is nearly a dead heat.”
The president shook her head, refusing to accept his logic. “Tell you what, Aaron; I’ll go on national television and reiterate my position. I’ll stand beside you, and let the people know how valuable I consider your advice and how sound I consider your judgment.”
“Ma’am, if you do that, you’re going to lose Texas.”
Heidi took a deep breath, “We’re not going to run from this. We’re going to turn around and punch it in the nose so it will fade back into the obscure shadows where it belongs.”
Her words had the desired effect, Aaron’s posture straightening, his poise returned. “Thank you, ma’am. You don’t know how much I appreciate your support.”
President Clifton took the podium, briefly flashing a smile to the gathered White House press corps. “I have a brief statement,” she began, “and then I’ll take questions.”
With the teleprompter in view, she focused on the point where she knew the cameras’ capture would seem she was making eye contact with the people viewing the conference. She began, “My fellow Americans, recently, much attention has been pulled to the actions of my chief of staff, Aaron Miller. I wanted to come before you and the press and clarify my position concerning gun rights and the Second Amendment to our Constitution and reaffirm my staunch backing of Mr. Miller.”
“At no time during my campaign or subsequent service as your president, did I detect even the smallest hint that Aaron was anti-Second Amendment. In fact, quite the opposite is true. At every opportunity, I have informed the American people that I believe in individual ownership of firearms, and Aaron shares these strong beliefs. Twelve years ago, this honorable man faced unfathomable circumstances and made a decision based solely on his desire to protect the people of New Orleans. It is a disservice to me - and all of you - for the far right to twist this ancient history into some sort of testament that the federal government is out to disarm the American public. Aaron Miller continues to have my full faith and confidence. I’ll take a few questions now.”
Heidi gestured to a reporter in the third row. “Madam President, when did you become aware of Mr. Miller’s actions in New Orleans?”
“I read the story in the press yesterday morning. That was the first I had heard anything about it.”
Again and again, Heidi deftly fielded the anticipated questions, never backing away or giving an inch of ground. Her self-assuredness running high, she pointed to what she was certain would be a hostile question from the Washington Post.
“According to the documents published in The Times, Mr. Miller was rewarded for what many are calling government intimidation by pursuing the settlement with Mr. Hendricks. Are you saying that you support and agree with the methods invoked by Mr. Miller at that time?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Heidi shot back. “The officials in New Orleans at that time were facing a disaster of Biblical proportions. For all of us to sit around 12 years later and Monday morning quarterback their decisions isn’t productive.”
Heidi broke eye contact with the reporter, trying to move on, but he wouldn’t let her loose. “A follow-up, ma’am. The actions I was referring to were almost two years after the storm. It appears as if the government was mounting a campaign to downplay the consequences of the gun confiscation and using some heavy-handed tactics to do so. Is it your position that justice was served in Mr. Hendricks’s case against the city?”
It was a critical moment, millions of viewers watching their Commander in Chief, and Heidi knew it. If she said no, then there would be calls for investigations that could only lead to strengthen the small-government right wingers. If she said, yes, she would be portrayed as aligned with the anti-gun fanatics on the far left.
In those brief milliseconds, under the pressure of national exposure, Heidi became angry. That one single question from a hostile news outlet served as a fulcrum for the entire debate – an argument that in her mind was outdated and ridiculous.
As the press paused for her response, her outrage mounted. How had this issue gathered so much momentum? What was it that the right didn’t understand? What possible justification could reasonable people have for wanting unlimited firepower in their living rooms? Didn’t the incident in Houston prove that? What about justice for her dead staffers and all of those law enforcement officers slaughtered by a mentally unstable individual who could legally purchase a weapon of terror?
With a voice dripping with frustration, she finally responded. “Given the man’s later actions in Houston, it seems to me that justice was not served. If Aaron Miller is guilty of anything, it is having let Abraham Hendricks walk free.”
The turnout was impressive, with 85% of the eligible voters waiting in long lines at Texas schools, courthouses, and municipal buildings. Some precincts
were forced to remain open until the wee hours of the morning just to ensure every voter could exercise the right of choice.
The computers then began their work, struggling to tally more ballots than had been cast in the previous two presidential elections combined.
It was 9AM the following morning when the results were called. Fox News was the first to make the announcement. Texas had voted to secede from the United States by a margin of 52 to 48 percent.
All eyes turned to Washington, the president’s signature now required to grant the state its independence.
President Clifton sat in the conference room, surrounded by the solemn faces of her cabinet.