by Gordon Ryan
“Seems to me you’ve picked up some of that spark,” Connor suggested.
Dan grinned. “Don’t feel like I’m running on all cylinders this morning.”
“That’s understandable. Let’s get to the heart of the matter. California’s in flames and has been for the past seventy-two hours. It’s coming back under control, but there are those who keep adding fuel and fanning the fires, and I’m not talking about the politicians, although they certainly do their part—in their own self-interest, of course.”
Dan looked at Nicole and then smiled directly at Connor. Pug took the cue.
“Present company excepted, of course,” he said, apparently remembering Dan’s newly acquired legislative role. Nicole and Dan starting laughing.
“Oops,” Pug replied, easing the sub-surface tension present since his arrival. “Dan, in all seriousness, we need to be candid with each other this morning. I want to talk to you about recent events, California’s future, your future—in short, I’ve come to ask for your help.”
“Colonel, we’re rapidly moving down opposite tracks.”
“I know—that’s the problem. We should be on the same track, don’t you think?”
“I did, Colonel, but look what happened on Friday—the insertion of that level of federal troops and the needless bloodshed. Was that necessary?”
“Most of the blood came from the 82nd Airborne.”
“Colonel, it doesn’t matter who was killed, they were all Americans,” Dan said, quickly realizing the unintended corollary of his reference.
“Exactly,” Connor said softly. “They were all Americans. Isn’t that the best explanation for why we need to work together? I’m here to ask you to help us all remain Americans.”
“Colonel Connor, perhaps you should tell me exactly what it is you’re suggesting.”
Pug glanced at Nicole, took a sip of his coffee, and settled back into his chair. “Several months ago, the president formed a small investigative task force to look into the origins of the California secession movement. A diverse group of intelligence and law enforcement professionals were assigned to that task force, including a couple of special agents from the FBI.”
Connor hesitated briefly as Dan looked at Nicole, shaking his head slowly, side to side.
“Nicole,” Dan asked, “when will you stop amazing me?”
“Never, I hope,” she replied. “Truly, Dan, I’ve had a real hard time with this, and I’ve explained it all to Colonel Connor on several occasions, but, well, I just was required to keep quiet. Dan,” she said, apprehensively, “it doesn’t mean that—”
Dan reached for her hand and kissed the back of it before looking to Connor.
“You were saying, Pug.”
“Nicole’s right, Dan. I thought at one point I’d lose her, because she felt she was betraying the confidence the two of you were developing, but we’ve got to move beyond that. I’m asking you to be a part of our team, unofficially.”
“And how does one become part of a president’s task force ‘unofficially,’ Colonel? Isn’t that a bit like being sort of pregnant?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Connor replied, nodding his head in agreement. “You’re in or you’re out, right?”
Dan stood and moved to the window of his apartment, standing quietly for a moment, staring out over the campus of the University of California at Davis. He turned back toward Pug and Nicole. “Colonel, like it or not, California is on the path to separation. You’re appealing to my loyalty to America, which, if events continue, will make me a traitor to California. That’s not much of a choice—condemned if I do and condemned if I don’t.”
“You’re right, except for one issue about which you, and most others, are unaware.”
Dan raised his eyebrows and stared at Nicole.
She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Not guilty. Well, maybe a little guilty,” she said sheepishly. “It’s really serious business, Dan, and I don’t mean to make light of it.” Nicole looked toward Connor, who nodded.
“Nicole, I think it’s time for you to bare your soul,” Connor said.
“Since early on, my FBI assignment has been to investigate the California militia units. That was part of the reason I was assigned to Colonel Connor’s task force. Last year, I was called in on an apparent drug overdose by the Director of Elections for the state of California. You may remember the news story—it was the Phelps case. In the course of the investigation, it became apparent that it was a murder, but the Sacramento police accepted it as a straight overdose. Then a few months ago, I was called by the acting director—a woman I had questioned back in the Phelps case. She wanted to talk to me, but I was out of the office for a few days, and she was told to call back on Monday. She was murdered less than forty-eight hours after calling my office, but before she had a chance to talk to me. Another lower-level employee of the elections office was found dead in the trunk of her car. The point is, Dan, that we have sufficient reason to believe that the California elections have been tampered with, and if so, well, you can jump to the obvious conclusion yourself. We think that what the public sees as overwhelming support for secession is nothing but the result of an engineered election.”
Dan faced back toward the window and continued to look out at the campus grounds, now beginning to fill with students en route to their early morning classes.
“Let’s assume for a moment that what you say is true.” He swiveled around, smiling at Nicole, not wanting to damage their relationship by refuting her analysis. “Then we have to recognize that even if the origins were fallacious, public support has been garnered, and the momentum is growing. In fact, if the legislative pollsters are right, it’s downright strong. Friday’s bloodbath did nothing to stem the growth of that support.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Connor interjected, “and if we don’t do something to curtail that growth, it will just grow stronger. Dan, more than one political movement had its origins in deception and its end result in success for the originators. How do you think the Tories felt when the radicals—Sam Adams, Revere, and the others—began their diatribe against the Crown? That’s what they were then, radicals and traitors to their country. They became heroes later, didn’t they?”
“And you’re asking me to assume the same role?”
“Even though it might seem farfetched to you, I believe devious people are at work right now, and we need to step in.”
“What people are we talking about, Colonel?”
“Tell him the rest, Nicole,” Connor said.
Nicole held out her hand. Dan came and resumed his seat next to her on the couch.
“Dan, we had an agent in the Shasta Brigade for almost a year—that’s how I knew you weren’t part of the group. He was killed in the ATF ambush, although no one knows that outside of the task force. We succeeded in getting someone else inside two months ago, and he has advised that representatives of the brigade will be coming to see you shortly.”
“Me?” Dan asked.
“Dan,” Connor said, “look at it from their point of view. You’re going to write the constitution for this rebel nation. Not only are you akin to Adams and Revere, but they see you as a James Madison figure, much as Senator Turner portrayed you in his diatribe last week in Modesto. These boys want to assure themselves that when you write this document, you’ll protect and, in line with their desires, strengthen their second amendment right to bear arms. They want to ensure you’ll write it up to their liking. You’re gonna be their main man.”
“And if I don’t listen to them, or refuse to go along with their demands?”
“It’s show-time for them. No one will be allowed to stand in their way, and as they see it, ten years from now they’ll all be heroes in the same sense as the colonial Minutemen at Concord and Lexington. How they achieved their objectives will be lost in translation.”
“What was it you said on the drive down to Modesto?” Nicole asked. “The winners write the history?”
Dan smiled at Nicole and looked toward Pug. “What do you want from me?”
“We need your help to expose this group before it’s too late. I need you to meet with their leadership, listen to their demands, and at least appear willing to consider their point of view. They’re not going to welcome you with open arms, but in light of recent events in Sacramento, you could appear to have modified your view toward federal intrusion, just a little bit, if you get my meaning.”
“Now I’m for secession, is that it?”
“That’s too blatant. Not ‘for it,’ but in light of the events at the Capitol last week, you’re just not so adamantly against it. ‘Beginning to see the light,’ would be one way to describe it.”
Once more Dan rose and moved to the window, indulging his habit of taking the long view, literally, enabling him to consider the request before him.
“The governor trusts me, Colonel, and I don’t intend to betray that trust. There’s been too much betrayal already.”
Connor rose and came to stand by Dan in front of the window.
“And what’s the governor’s position, Dan? He’s already called for international recognition of his new nation.”
“He’s against secession, but he’s boxed in now and hasn’t found a way to unravel this mess and gain popular support against the secession. To use your own analogy, Colonel, some of the Founding Fathers were intent on remaining part of England. Only when events forced their hand did they become rebellious.”
“Exactly. Work with us, Dan, and between your efforts and those of the task force,” he said, nodding toward Nicole, “we can give him the ammunition he needs to fight this thing.”
Dan briefly glanced out the window once more and then back at Nicole. “I guess I’m ‘sort of pregnant,’ huh?” He laughed. “Colonel, I’ll do what I can, because I still believe in America as the nation it is, and perhaps, just perhaps, as my grandfather used to say, we can bluster a bit and shake ’em up back East in that hairy nest of politicians.”
“Believe me, they’re shaken up—well shaken, I can assure you.”
“Am I to presume that you are now my contact?” Dan said to Nicole.
Nicole looked at Colonel Connor, who responded. “That would continue the relationship you’ve built over the past several months.”
Dan walked back to the couch, took Nicole’s hands in his, and pulled her up to face him, kissing her forehead. “I’ve had worse contacts, Colonel.” He smiled.
“One more thing, Dan. I’ve advised the president of my intentions regarding your involvement. I must tell you he was opposed, but he’s never restricted my hand in my previous dealings with him. I’ll keep him apprised of developments. And I think you should talk privately with the governor. You must keep the identity of the task force members confidential, but you can advise him of our meeting if you feel it necessary. But—and this is very important—you must not advise him of our suspicions regarding election rigging.”
“Do you suspect him?”
“It’s on a limited ‘need to know’ basis, Dan.”
Dan nodded. “Thank you, Colonel. It’s important to me to retain his trust and to be loyal to him in the process. I think that if we can find a way out of this mess, he’ll be supportive.”
Dan put his arm around Nicole and gave her a quick squeeze. “Looks like I’m gonna be Gary Cooper after all.”
“Gary Cooper?” she quizzed.
“It’s not important.” Dan laughed.
“Well, I’m off,” Connor said. “I’ve got to fly to New York and meet with an old friend. Good to meet you again, Dan. I’ve started to read your book, and I can understand why you feel the way you do. Together, I believe we can make a contribution toward saving the Constitution we both cherish. And as to your ‘contact,’ you can rest assured that in addition to the qualities you’ve obviously noticed about her, she’s also a first-rate intelligence officer. I’ll leave you two to discuss what’s left. Nicole, I’ll be in touch and will probably be back in several days. Again, Dan, my condolences on your grandfather’s death.”
Dan shook Connor’s hand. “Thanks, Pug. If you’ve been reading my book, then you’ll be aware that in some respects, I’m repeating history. If these devious people, as you call them, win out, I could hang for treason.”
“You could always retrace the steps of your history.”
“Excuse me?”
“Didn’t your family start out in New England? Nicole’s from Connecticut. It’s a beautiful place to live … if necessary.”
Dan nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
“That’s all we ask.”
After Connor left, Dan pulled Nicole close, enfolding her in his arms and kissing her gently, then running his fingers through her hair. “I’d like to arrange some future ‘contact,’ if you don’t mind, ma’am.”
“Dan, this is serious,” she said, placing her hands on his chest and making a small scowl.
“Oh, I know it is, Nicole. Believe me, I know. And it frightens me. But if we’re ferreting out ‘origins,’ let’s not forget ours in the process. It’d be nice if we could work out both issues and arrive at popular support on both fronts. You have my support, Agent Bentley. Have I yours?”
Nicole stood on her toes and pressed her lips to Dan’s, allowing her hands to slide behind his head. “All of it, Assemblyman Rawlings, all of it. And you can trust Colonel Connor, truly. He’s a good man, Dan. I’ve quickly grown to trust him.”
Dan nodded his head and started for the kitchen to finish the breakfast cleanup before leaving for the day. He paused and looked back toward Nicole. “Oh, and by the way, Voices in My Blood is going to be a movie,” he said nonchalantly.
“What?” Nicole exclaimed.
“My agent called to say Hollywood was going to make it into a movie. But before you get too excited, she also told me that what Hollywood intends to do and what they do, are two entirely different things. They only want to buy the option.”
“They’ll make it,” she replied.
* * *
For twenty minutes, Dan tried to explain to Governor Dewhirst his dilemma about working with Colonel Connor. Once again, Dan was impressed and astonished at how calmly the governor accepted information that Dan would have thought provocative.
“Governor, it seems I’m to be reviled by both sides in this charade.”
“You looking for absolution, son?”
Dan was taken aback by the governor’s direct accusation. “No, sir. But it seems that either way I go—”
“Look, this is a tough game we’re involved in. You need to learn when to compromise and when to stand your ground. I can’t teach you that—it’s an inherent quality that each person has to develop for himself. Personally, son, I think you’re on solid ground. You told me when I first called you in that you were an American. Well, then, be one. Both you and I would rather see this secession nonsense go down the tubes, but we’re proceeding forward with it in any case. I might take a different position were I not governor, but I am, and I have those responsibilities, and the voters have told me what they want. I can either follow their lead or get out of the way and let someone else lead. Dan, I don’t mean to be harsh, but do you understand?”
“I believe so, sir. My main reason for the visit was to make you aware of Connor’s approach.”
“I appreciate that. Maybe you don’t know how rare such loyalty is, but by the same token, I need to keep my oars in the water on many fronts. I’ve already spoken with the president, and he told me he had someone out here—‘keeping an eye on things,’ was, I believe, the expression he chose to use. Now, thanks to you, I know who he is. The president has faith in the man, as I do in you. Do what you need to do, and so will I.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, Governor.”
“Oh, and Dan. Be careful who you confide in. There are a lot of folks out there who wouldn’t take kindly to your … shall we call it … activity.”
“Yeah. That’s what Colonel Conn
or said. Thank you, sir.”
“You’re coming closer all the time to Gary Cooper’s role, aren’t you?”
Dan grinned and nodded. “But this isn’t fiction, Governor, and I’m not writing the script.”
Chapter 31
Woodbridge, Virginia
The following morning, Pug was escorted up to the office of the Director of the FBI. Ushered in, Pug found Judge Granata talking with a well-dressed man of Latin extraction. Both men rose as Pug entered the room.
“Morning, Pug. Glad you could make it,” Granata said. “Colonel Connor, I’d like you to meet General Rodrigo Cordoba, retired from the Mexican army and currently head of the Mexican federal police. My counterpart, as it were.”
The three men shook hands and sat as Judge Granata refilled Cordoba’s coffee cup. “Pug, General Cordoba is here unofficially, but he feels he’s stumbled across something of import to us. Perhaps I should let him tell it,” he said, nodding to Cordoba.
“Si. Thank you, Mr. Director.” Facing Connor, Cordoba set his coffee cup down and studied Connor’s face for a moment, a gracious, but inquisitive glint to his eyes. “Colonel, Judge Granata tells me you are a man to be trusted. I hope so, Señor, as my life, possibly that of my family, and perhaps your life as well, will be at risk should the source of this information be discovered. But it is important that you are informed. You are aware, of course, that Mexico has recently recognized the proposed government of the Republic of California.”
“I am, sir,” Pug replied, interest rising, and impressed by Cordoba’s command of English, punctuated by only a hint of accent.
“The basis for Mexico’s recognition of California comes more from a business interest than from a political alliance, Colonel. You are familiar, are you not, with a man called John Henry Franklin, of the Franklin Group?”
Pug nodded his assent, vaguely aware of the financial reports he’d read over the years on Franklin’s empire.
“Mr. Franklin has a long reach and much influence in many quarters, including some within my government. I’m sure you will understand that I am not privy to all aspects of this venture, but certain details have come to my attention that relate to the California issue. Several months ago, I was witness to the hideous outcome of a failed attempt to smuggle Mexican citizens into the United States. It was a most distasteful incident in which the lives of sixteen of my countrymen were needlessly lost. Many more have been lost, Señor, but these—these were horrible deaths and uncalled for by all accounts. As I began to investigate this tragedy, I discovered that a man I have met in a social setting was directly involved in the planning of that operation. I am speaking of illegal immigration, Señor, and the deaths of those who cross the border by whatever means are at hand. This man, known to me as Jean Wolff or Jean Minards—a man who probably has many other names—established the channels by which these people are promised passage into your country and employment through a series of temporary agencies, all without proper documentation. The money is sufficient to entice those at the highest government levels, those who could possibly interfere, to look the other way on both sides of the border. Several in my personal employ have participated in this venture as well, although they are not aware that I have discovered their involvement.”