Acts of Sedition

by Dennis Stephan

  “I agree,” said Hakim. “The only way that we’ll be able to restore order is to secure our buildings and protect our leaders and allow the foreign forces to perform as we have asked.”

  Demetri spoke up again. “But what if this fighting continues for days, Hakim? How will any of us be able to look in a mirror knowing that we could have stopped this today and avoided more bloodshed?”

  “In our jobs we’re asked to make tough decisions, and this is probably one of the most difficult decisions we’ll ever have to make. But I think we need to let this play out, and if there is more loss of life, I will be saddened, but I will also know that the protesters started this by taking to the streets and that our friends from Syria and Iran are simply helping us defend our Republic.”

  Demetri wondered how anyone could say, let alone believe, this last statement given that the Syrian and Irani troops were in position well before one protester took to the streets.

  “If there is nothing else, gentlemen, I have to brief the president on our decision.”

  As the Secretary of Defense, sitting to Demetri’s right stood to leave he was killed by a single bullet to his forehead. Stunned, General Bishop and Sadeem Ali turned to see Demetri aiming an HK 45C. The general opened his mouth as if he was going to protest but he was dead before uttering a word. Sadeem started to attack but, given that he was over 3 feet away and on the opposite side of the conference table, he had no prayer. Like the others, Sadeem was dead in seconds.

  Demetri put the gun back in his jacket pocket and left the conference room to return to his office to make a call to The Pentagon.

  He spoke to David Bushway, Executive Secretary of the DOD.

  “David, this is Demetri over at the White House. I have some bad news. Secretary Bahar suffered a massive stroke during a meeting here. He died a short while ago.”

  “Oh my God. I just spoke to the Secretary an hour or so ago.”

  “Yes, he mentioned that which is why I’m calling. It’s very upsetting, but I’ve been put in charge and will be carrying out a mission that he had proposed. This mission was discussed at great length, and agreed upon at our meeting.”

  Demetri updated David on a new plan that he had proposed during the meeting. David was a good guy and someone who never questioned orders. And for David, national security was priority number one.

  Chapter 71

  Josh answered his phone as everyone in the Command Post froze.

  “General, this is Tarif again. Do you have the news on the TV?”

  “No,” said Josh. “We’ve seen enough on TV. Fill me in. What’s happening?”

  “Well General, I was called out of a meeting with the president. I don’t know if you heard or not, but the vice president and at least 20 members of Congress were assassinated this morning.”

  Makim succeeded, thought Josh. “Fill me in.”

  “After shooting the VP, who was walking toward the Capitol, Makim made his way inside but instead of securing the facility, as you had planned, he armed himself with C4 and blew himself and everyone in the Senate lunchroom to bits. The president called us in to discuss the Capitol situation when all hell broke loose here.”

  “What do you mean, Tarif?”

  “There had been a strategy meeting called by Secretary of Defense Bahar. Demetri Kotsopoulos, General Bishop, and Sadeem Ali were in attendance.”

  Tarif filled the general in on what Demetri had told him had transpired at the meeting.

  “The President doesn’t even know all of this yet, General, but as they adjourned, Demetri pulled a pistol that he had hidden inside his jacket and killed all three in a matter of seconds.”

  “Oh my God, where is Demetri now?” asked Josh.

  “He’s here with me now, and he wants to talk to you, but he’s on another line so I’ll finish up. Demetri called the Pentagon and told DOD Executive Secretary Bushway that Hakim had died of a stroke and that, as Deputy Defense Secretary, he was now in charge. His first order to Bushway was the re-installation of all military communications.”

  Josh turned to the members of the Joint Chiefs. “Try your main communication lines to see if they’re open for communication with your field personnel.”

  A cacophony filled the room. “General, the lines are open,” they all said, almost in unison as if it had been rehearsed.

  “Holy crap” was all that Josh could manage.

  “Josh,” Demetri had joined the conversation from the White House. “Put me on speakerphone if you would. I guess that Tarif has filled you in by now. I may be tried for treason, but I couldn’t stand by and watch thousands of Americans being slaughtered in the streets. I tried to talk sense into them, but they wouldn’t listen. I had no choice but to take control. I’ve ensured that all of our military communications are open again. What we need to do is to use our forces to protect our citizens. I’ve just spoken with Deputy Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Admiral John Barrington, and he and I are in complete agreement on this.”

  “Gentlemen, contact your field generals immediately. Order them to take whatever action is necessary to defend our country and its citizens. That includes deploying several brigades to our cities. I realize that the president asked for the foreigner’s help, but I believe that taking this action is not only just but critical.”

  “I could not agree more, Demetri, and for what it’s worth I think you’re a hero, not a traitor.”

  “Thanks, Josh, I have one last thing. I’ve spoken to the president about this.”

  “You spoke to the president? Why didn’t you kill him?”

  “If I could have, I would have General, but he’s now holed up in the White House bunker. He’s really on high alert.”

  “He damned well should be.”

  “General, I’m sorry that you’re disappointed, but I hadn’t planned any of this. I was flying by the seat of my pants. I would have loved nothing more, but I had to check my weapon before seeing him. I thought for sure that someone would have realized that my gun had been recently fired, but they allowed me to put it in a basket outside the room.”

  “I understand, Demetri, and I’m not disappointed in you. It’s just that it was a missed opportunity.”

  “No doubt but there was no way that I was going to be able to pull it off. There were four armed guards outside the room and another four inside. Plus the president was carrying. In any event, he was not happy, but he recognized that there was nothing that he could do about it. I don’t think our original plan is going to work though unless we create a mess here at the White House so I’d suggest that we table that for now and start protecting our cities and people. We’ll worry about the president later.”

  “I already scrapped our plans, Demetri, and we’re moving on to Plan B.”

  “Good. That’s all I have for now. Get to work, people. Good luck and keep me posted.”

  “Thanks, Demetri. We will.”

  Josh looked around the room, and the Joint Chiefs were already on the phones talking to their field personnel about what was needed and the best strategy to employ.

  Chapter 72

  With the Joint Chiefs headed back to DC, a dejected Josh Redmond finished packing their suitcases by putting their near perfectly forged passports into the zipper compartment. With Karen by his side, he set out from their home on Long Island on his predetermined escape route, ironically in a Ford Escape that he had rented under an alias.

  Luckily for them, Josh’s old wartime buddy, BGen Martin Tremblay, who had served with him in Iraq, was retired from the Canadian Army and living in Toronto now.

  Josh suspected that Abbas would make sure that the military and Staties had all of the preferred major highways on high alert. Having ensured that no one knew what car they were driving would help, but Josh decided to take the safest available route. Instead of the more direct 8-hour drive north through upstate NY and PA, he and Karen were taking back roads through Pennsylvania to Cleveland, avoiding the Pennsylvania Turnpike at all costs. They wou
ld then drive to Detroit and from there into Canada.

  They had gotten a later start than planned, leaving at 1 pm. First Josh had to secure his command center which meant gathering up and packing all of the small devices, like phones and flash drives and then wiping out everything on the larger electronic hard drives, screens, computer history, and even burning all of the previously shredded notes. He wasn’t taking any chances. In fact, Josh had thought of completely destroying the entire basement but, always the optimist, he thought that it might come in handy when they returned home. Plus it was designed to withstand almost any attack, and he didn’t have the time or know how to pull that off.

  After he was sure that all was secure at home they drove both the rental and their Toyota sedan to the Smith Haven Train Station. Leaving their personal car at the station would throw everyone off track, giving them a much-needed head start.

  Karen, being a soldier’s wife, was used to moving around a lot. But Josh knew what she had wanted in retirement, namely tranquility and stability. In one of her more fanciful moments, before the chaos began, she actually spoke about loving their retirement home because it meant that they were truly retired. But here they were on the run. He knew that she didn’t want to leave their home and yet she hadn’t said a word. She understood why they had to leave and what was at stake.

  The drive was going to take them over 17 hours, so it was important that they have some good music, as defined by Josh. So for 17 hours, Karen, who much preferred either jazz or classical music, would be treated to some of the best the 1960s had to offer including music by legends like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Doors, and The Beatles.

  “Pleased to meet you

  Hope you guess my name

  But what's puzzling you

  Is the nature of my game.”

  The Rolling Stones “Sympathy for the Devil,” playing now, only served to remind Josh of the devil he was leaving behind.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to stay in Canada?” Karen always interrupted his favorite tunes.

  “I don’t know sweetie. A lot will depend on what happens over the next few weeks. If all goes according to plan, I’m hoping that we’ll be able to return stateside by Christmas.”

  Josh was grateful that she didn’t have a follow-up question. He could get back to Mick Jagger. Josh loved how this song conjured up his image of Ahmad Abbas

  “Just as every cop is a criminal

  And all the sinners saints

  As heads is tails

  Just call me Lucifer

  Cause I'm in need of some restraint.”

  Josh’s mind raced. He hated to leave; to run away. He was a fighter and had hoped for a better outcome, one that would have him receiving a hero’s welcome as he rode into the nation’s capital as the champion of the people. He had dreamt so much about that in recent weeks that he had convinced himself that there would be no need for Plan B.

  But, he had been wise to have this backup plan. It was the right plan, one he had concocted when he had been calm and thinking clearly, not dreaming. Once emotions get involved, bad decisions are made. And the last 12 hours had been one emotional roller coaster. Many of his friends had died or been arrested. He thought that there was hope following Dimitri's bold action. But now he and Karen were fleeing, and it made no sense to change plans. It was the time to follow the plan.

  Josh recalled another time when he was forced to retreat. He was commandeering the takeover of Nad-e Ali District of Helmand province in Afghanistan. Expecting little resistance, Josh had ordered just one armored division into the city to back up a couple of infantry units. To their surprise, the city had become a Taliban fortress. Josh would have liked to have stayed to fight but remembering an old idiom that his father often used discretion is the better part of valor, led Josh to the conclusion that it was better to retreat and live to fight another day.

  “Yes that is exacly what I’m doing”, whispered Josh to himself. All of the Joint Chiefs were assuming their positions back in Washington. They had been well schooled in playing the part of disbelieving loyalists who supported the president. Josh had already seen an interview with Admiral Barrington in which he denounced the cowards who would discard the Constitution for their personal gains or because of a personal gripe with the administration. The admiral might just win an Oscar for his performance.

  So here they were Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Arnold, as they were no doubt being characterized, on a nice leisurely ride through the country on a beautifully bright and sunny summer afternoon. In another 15 hours, they’d be in Toronto having breakfast with his friend, Martin, ready to work on the final details of Plan B.

  As he headed toward Detroit, Josh made a spur of the moment decision to avoid the downtown Detroit area and the heavy security of the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel. He would take one of the bridges instead. Most people traveling from the east would logically take the tunnel.

  If Abbas was onto him, as he suspected, it was more likely that he had beefed up security at those border crossings more so than at one of the bridges, especially The Ambassador Bridge, which was southwest of the city. No one would suspect that he’d arrive from the west.

  The Ambassador offered a better chance for him and Karen to cross without much suspicion. It was usually more congested on holidays. But, considering the time of day and everything that was going on in the country, he figured that traffic would move quickly.

  Josh swung his car south and then west ensuring that he would be approaching the city from the western side. He would encounter border patrol at the entrance to the one and half mile long bridge.

  The shorter route would have been to take I-75 North from Toledo but Josh branched off onto I-275N that cut north between Ann Arbor and Dearborn. Karen was asleep. He wasn’t afraid, but he was anxious. He’d been to Windsor many times but had always taken either the tunnel or the Gordie Howe Bridge.

  His thoughts shifted to what was happening back east. He thought about calling their children but knew that wasn’t the best idea. He was reasonably sure that they were safe. Instead, he turned on a radio news station but what was being reported as breaking news wasn’t much different than what he had already heard before he left home. As usual, reporters were trampling over each other for every morsel of news.

  Josh put in a couple of Moody Blues CDs. “Nights in White Satin” was infinitely more relaxing and he started to feel better, a little more at ease. Plus Karen could easily sleep through the softer music. He was going to take I-96 near Plymouth and head east but then decided to take I-94 instead.

  He drove on I-94 through Wayne County for about 30 miles but then fear struck him again, so he opted to take the smaller Rt 39 toward Lincoln Park and drive up north from there on a parallel back road.

  About 2 miles from the I-75 interchange, he saw a flashing light behind him. “Shit,” he said aloud, waking Karen.

  “My goodness, why the cussin’?”

  “We’re getting pulled over.”

  He pulled over to the side of the road and waited for the Wayne County squad car that pulled up behind him.

  He reached under his seat for his old M-11 pistol. He held it in his left hand, between the seat and the car door.

  “Yes officer is there a problem?” said Josh.

  “License and registration.”

  Great, thought Josh.

  He handed the paperwork to the patrolman.

  “Did I do something wrong officer?”

  The officer looked at the license. “I clocked you at 70 mph, Mr. Gladstone. The speed limit here is 50.”

  “I’m sorry officer. I’d appreciate it if you could cut us a break. I’ll be more careful.”

  “Where are you headed, Mr. Gladstone?”

  “We’re headed to Windsor for a family reunion.”

  The cop looked over his fake license and then at the rental information.

  “This isn’t your car, sir?”

  Josh wanted to say something smart like no shit Sh
erlock but decided to bite his tongue.

  “No officer. Our car broke down, so we had to rent a car.”

  “I see. I’ll be right back. Just stay in your car.”

  “I’m scared Josh.”

  “It’ll be ok.

  The officer returned.

  “Can I ask you to step out of the car, Mr. Gladstone?”

  “Is there a problem, officer?”

  “Just step out of the car.”

  Seeing Josh’s left hand moving up from his side, Karen screamed “No Josh!”

  A single shot exploded when it hit the center of the officer’s chest. Collateral damage, thought Josh.

  With military like precision he went into mop up mode. He put on a pair of gloves, exited the car, and bent over to touch the cop’s carotid artery. There was no pulse. He took back his license and other paperwork from the cop’s right hand. He read his name tag; Sgt. Hanratty. “Sorry Hanratty,” he said. The poor son of a bitch was just doing his job, he thought.

  He was going to ask Karen to help, but she looked as lifeless sitting in the car as the slain cop did on the ground. He dragged the sergeant’s body back to the squad car and flung him onto the passenger’s seat before driving the car into an even more secluded area to the right of the road.