Acts of Sedition

by Dennis Stephan

  It was 8am when he arrived at The White House. The president had told him to meet him in the oval office. There was no secretary standing guard, only secret service. Unlike himself, apparently Julia’s job was safe and she got to enjoy her only day off. Hakim knocked.

  “Come in.”

  “Mr. President.” He was a little nervous as he approached the large oak desk. Seated in one of the chairs was Omar Khalid. “Good morning, Omar.” Omar nodded.

  “Sit Hakim! Sit! Can I have one of my staff get you something, some coffee or tea maybe?”

  “A cup of coffee would be great, Mr. President. Thank you. “

  The president buzzed a staff member and ordered a coffee and two cups of tea.

  “I’m very concerned”, said Abbas. “Very concerned. I wanted you both here because I was up all night. I have this nervous feeling in my stomach.”

  The president filled Hakim in on the snake incident, of a few nights before. So now you are up to date on what happened and we can move forward. “Omar, what did you find out during your investigation?”

  With the exception of when they were alone, Omar never addressed his old friend by his first name. “Mr. President, I conducted the investigation as we had discussed. The staff all checked out but a review of the electronic sign in log revealed several suspicious people who had been at the White House that day. It seems all were accompanied by staff members throughout their visit with the exception of one.”

  The knock on the door interrupted their conversation, as their coffee and tea was handed to them.

  The president sipped his tea while he waited for privacy. “Go on Omar.”

  “Mr. Marquis Williams who works for our exterminating company, Capital Critter Control, was permitted to do his job without anyone tagging along. That’s standard procedure. He entered his badge number and we have his photo. I called over to the company and spoke to the owner. He said that The White House was not scheduled for a visit and that he didn’t have anyone named Marquis Williams working for him. I transmitted his photo while we spoke and he didn’t recognize the person in the photo.”

  “I knew it. I knew it. This is serious gentlemen. This is very serious. This is the second attempt on my life in just a few months. Is that a coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  “Of course, I’ve shared Mr. Williams photograph with the Capital Police, FBI, and other appropriate agencies, continued Omar. “ So far no one has been able to match the photo with anyone in their database. He doesn’t even appear in any of the state DMV records.”

  “There is something going on gentlemen and we need to figure out what and we need to find out fast. Let me ask you this Hakim. Do you believe that the military is fully behind me? Do they have my back?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. President, but I don’t understand. What do you mean do they have your back?”

  “As Commander In Chief, can I count on our military to defend me?”

  The president seemed nervous and his speech pattern was rushed. He was rubbing his left arm. It looked as though a rash had developed. Of course he was nervous. Who wouldn’t be after what appeared to be a second assassination attempt.

  “Mr. President. I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you and the first lady are safe.”

  “Yes, yes. I understand that but how about the military? Are my soldiers willing to follow my orders?”

  “Of course they are, Mr. President.”

  “Every single member with no questions asked and without hesitation?”

  “Mr. President. I can’t say with absolute certainty that everyone agrees with your policies but”

  “I need to know that I can trust the people around me, especially those who are supposed to protect my country and my presidency.”

  “But Mr. President, the only way to do that would be to ask every single soldier.”

  “I see. I see. Maybe we could have them sign an oath of allegiance or something. You know stating that they would always be on my side, supporting my decisions, and defending my presidency. How about that?”

  The president was scratching his neck now as he seemed uncharacteristically agitated.

  It was obvious that Hakim was uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation but Omar understood the need to reassure the president. “Mr. President. I don’t think you need to do that. The members of our armed forces took oaths when they enlisted.”

  “Of course you’re right”. He seemed to be calming a little. “I just get nervous because I hear stories about my ancestors and how life was in their country. Every year they had a new leader, it seemed. Leaders were threatened, killed, resigned and some just disappeared. People were never satisfied. I’ve done a lot for this country, Omar, but are the people satisfied?”

  “I understand, Mr. President, and I know that you understand this but things are not done that way in the United States. We have not had hostilities in hundreds of years. Change here is made through the ballot box.”

  “Yes Omar. You’re right of course. I just feel that I need to know for sure, for peace of mind. But I guess there are no guarantees in life.”

  “No Mr. President, there aren’t. But soldiers are trained to follow orders.”

  The president nodded. They finished their beverages without anyone saying more about it. There was some idle talk but the mood had changed and the president seemed calmer although the rash on his arm looked pretty bad. He had scratched it so hard that it had bled.

  “Is there anything else, Mr. President?” said Omar.

  The president stared as if deep in thought.

  “Mr. President. Is there anything else you need to discuss?”

  “No Omar. Thanks for your help, gentlemen. Go on home and enjoy your day off and I’ll see you here tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.”

  As he and Hakim walked quietly down the corridor from the oval office, Omar couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

  Chapter 28

  Tony phoned Angela and told her that after their recruiting trip, he had walked around his old haunts and talked to about ten guys that he knew. Most said they would come, bring girlfriends, wives, and friends. Tony joked that he hoped that those who brought their wives would leave their sweethearts home.

  At 1 pm, people started filing into Angela’s small apartment. She had put out a few extra chairs, but it was obvious those would not be enough. Many of the clergy members present at the last meeting were no-shows. Tony and Angela watched as the count rose to over 70 people. Angela was astonished, not just that this many people would show but that they would even come close to fitting inside her tiny apartment.

  She passed around a pen and paper to be used as a sign in sheet. Having everyone’s name, nickname, address, phone number, and email address would make it easier for her to organize future meetings.

  As the pad was circulated, Angela started the meeting by introducing herself and Tony and then filling everyone in on the purpose of the group and what had transpired to date. Oddly enough, there wasn’t a lot of griping. She asked if anyone would like to take minutes.

  Buddy Riley’s sister, Ann, a short, thin, redhead volunteered to be the secretary moving forward.

  The first comment came from a tall man named Bruno Valente. “I get it Angela, but what’s in it for me.”

  She saw heads nodding and heard some under the breath comments. One of her fears had been that some of the minor criminals might be more interested in themselves, then helping the country so, appealing to their heritage she explained how the president’s policies were hurting neighborhoods like theirs and the ethnic culture in which they grew up. She laid out plans for some already scheduled protests both in Philly and in DC and told the group that they needed a lot of manpower to make these events impactful. These events had helped sway public opinion, but there was more work to do.

  While not really that into politics
and still unsure about how he would benefit, Bruno, at least, gave in for now. As if speaking for everyone he said “Ok tell us what you need us to do. Ya need me to go tune these guys up.” Angela wasn’t sure if this was meant as a joke or not since Bruno didn’t even crack a smile but it sure elicited a few snickers among Bruno’s friends. “He’ll do it too,” yelled someone from the kitchen.

  After the banter had died down, Angela thanked Bruno for his enthusiasm and his support and asked: “Does anyone else have anything they’d like to say?”

  Anthony Carfagno, or Antny as everyone called him, stood and spoke. Antny was a former member of The Centurians Motorcycle Club. As opposed to gangs like The Hell’s Angels, The Centurians were all cops who rode. Antny had retired from the force after being shot four times breaking up a bank robbery in West Philly a few years back. He was on full disability, but Angela thought he looked pretty good. He was one of the guys she’d “do” if she had the chance as it was obvious that he worked out. “What we need to do is organize. Give everybody a job whether it’s to secure weapons, get some snitches who can provide us with some info, or even cook for meetings, although some of you fatties look like you could stand to lose a few if ya know what I mean.” Everyone laughed at that last comment, but Antny said “Hey I’m serious man. I’m sick of this shit and so is my wife Sandi over there.” Everyone’s eyes turned to check out Antny’s wife. Angela was disappointed to learn that Antny was married but even more disappointed to see that his wife was so attractive. While she knew she should stay focused on the important things, Angela couldn’t help but eye Antny up and down. Oh well, thought Angela,” seems like the best are always taken.” Of course, she still had Tony and after the dry spell that she had had, that was pretty damn good.

  Angela thanked Antny and told the group that he made a lot of sense.

  Suddenly, another guy in the kitchen came bursting forward, bigger than life. Of course, that was the rather rotund Nicky Gervasi. Angela had spent an entire day with the guy and learned something new about him at every turn. Apparently, everyone else in the room already knew Nicky, and they knew him by his handle. “Nicky Killer at your service,” he roared. “I say we get a bunch of guys, ride down to DC, and wait for those assholes in Congress to leave their cushy offices and then we whack em. If we kill all of them jerkoffs, maybe we can put some goombas in there that will do the job for us; you get what I’m talkin’ about.”

  Angela expected some laughter, but there wasn’t any. She whispered to Tony in his ear “Is he serious, Tone?”

  “Serious? He’s downright scary. That’s why no one laughed. His nickname isn’t Bobo the Clown, remember. I don’t think anyone laughs at Nicky Killer unless he laughs first because you never know when he’s serious or just joking.”

  Angela, trying to appear professional as the leader and control the meeting interrupted him in a very formal way. “Mr. Gervasi”, she started. Nicky interrupted her “hey you can call me Killer, sweetheart.” Angela just smiled, ignoring his last comment, which seemed like forced bravado. She was seeing a different Nicky than the guy she had met a few days ago. “That would be a great idea except that some of our other distinguished members, who couldn’t be here today, are members of the clergy, and I think they might frown on flat out ‘whackin’ them.”

  Nicky spoke up. “Well if they ain’t here, they ain’t a part of this fight. Am I right or what? What bright ideas do they have?”

  Tony spoke now. “Well, Nicky” and he was interrupted by Nicky, who said, “yo, who said you could call me Nicky.” Angela saw that Tony had stopped talking. He had a look of sheer fright on his face. A few days earlier they had all been friends but apparently with Nicky you just never knew which guy would show up. Then she noticed that he was smiling “I’m just messin’ witcha, Tone.”

  Tony let out a soft breath of relief, smiled, and continued. “These men are former ministers and deacons. They think that we can start replacing the members of Congress by getting the vote out against them and putting in our people. Once we take over Congress, they can repeal some of Abbas’ laws and executive orders.”

  “No shit?” said another man who failed to identify himself. “Are these guys stupid or what? Do you know how long it would take to get these putzes outta office? I’m with Nick. Things are drastic, and they call for drastic measures. Who else is with Nicky?”

  There was deafening applause. Angela was surprised to see so much passion from a group that had just formed. But Angela and Tony felt their control of the meeting slipping away. Angela had to smile at the thought that a bloodthirsty mob of mostly dagos had replaced the once milquetoast committee of 8 do nothings. It was good to see and yet she knew that this was not just a matter of going to Washington to get rid of one man. There was an entire culture that had developed in DC and changing one man would not accomplish what was needed. The situation required more than a few people. A much more coordinated effort designed to change the complete political landscape was needed.

  Suddenly an older woman of about 65 rose to speak. “Hello everyone, I’m Joanne Shapiro. I just moved here from New York with my husband, Asher. He would have been here today, but he had to work. We’re from Flushing, Queens; born and raised. For the past few weeks, we’ve been having similar meetings with friends of ours back home who attended synagogue with us. The group is growing and includes some very influential Jewish leaders now, including a rabbi from my old synagogue. My understanding is that the New York group is working toward the same ends that we are, and I thought it might not be a bad idea if we could talk to them to learn what they plan to do. Maybe they even have a Jewish group here in Philly because I heard that there is a Christian group in New York. Anyway, I was just thinking.”

  Angela liked Joanne immediately. She was an obvious New Yorker as she pronounced the city like “New Yawk” and asked if she could have a glass of “Wahtah.” Angela loved that Joanne’s idea made perfect sense.

  After some discussion, the group agreed to meet again in one week. In the meantime, Ann Riley would distribute the loosely framed minutes of the meeting and Joanne Shapiro would call her former rabbi in New York to check on his progress and discuss a possible joint meeting between him and the leaders of this group.

  Angela and Tony agreed to drive up to New York together to represent the Philly group at the meeting. Nicky said that he would like to go. Angela said ok, although she had reservations. What crossed her mind was the thought of one of the Jews pissing Nicky off and getting whacked. Joanne said that she’d like to go as well to make the introductions and because she would like to spend some time visiting with her mom in Queens and maybe even have a Rueben at her favorite Jewish deli.

  The meeting adjourned and for the first time, Angela and Tony felt that there was some hope – that they had some people with gumption or ‘balls’ as Tony preferred.

  Chapter 29

  Dr. Baltasar Jabili, a retired surgeon at Boston General, received a call from Josh Redmond, a longtime friend of his. Dr. Jabili met Josh during the liberation of Azmarin, where he worked as part of a humanitarian effort.

  They stayed in touch over the years, but it had been a while since they had spoken so he was surprised to get a call from Josh.

  Dr. Jabili was a known activist so Josh was fairly sure that if there were any truth to the rumors of political dissension among the Muslim community in Boston, Dr. Jabili would be the one in the know.

  “Hello, Josh. What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Hello Baltasar, how are you and how is your family?”

  “We’re well, my friend, but you know what it’s like getting old. I get up in the morning, and I am surprised to find muscles hurting that I didn’t even know I had.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Here’s my advice; start working out. I’m still running five miles a day and lifting at the gym every chance I get. I feel strong and full of energy.”

  “So, what is the reason for this out of the blue call?”

&n
bsp; Josh didn’t want to share too much detail, but he did want some help.

  “Well Baltasar, I’ve met with some people in New York who are heartbroken over the current administration. I hesitate to call it a movement because it’s more like a grassroots effort but they would like to see some changes made within the government. There are rumors of a group in Philadelphia with the same agenda, and I’ve verified that what I’ve heard is true. One of the members in New York also heard about similar concerns among the Muslim community in Boston, and I thought that if there was anyone who would know for sure and who might know the people I should contact, you would be that person. Can you help me?”

  “Well, my good friend, I can tell you that there is some truth to those rumors. I am not directly involved, but the sons of my dear friend Ulfat are.”

  Dr. Jabili explained that he had been a close associate of Dr. Ulfat Khalid when he lived in Syria, as they both worked in a military hospital in Damascus. After a moment of silence, Baltasar asked the general if he knew Dr. Khalid.

  “I know the name, Baltasar, because the president’s chief of staff is Omar Khalid but other than that I don’t think I knew Dr. Khalid”.

  “Perhaps he was killed before we met. In any event, Dr. Khalid was a close associate of mine and a patriot who was killed in one of the Syrian uprisings along with his wife and daughter, only his sons survived.