The Enemy Within

by Kurt Winans

  Having watched the live speech as in previous years from the family room of the Tillman mansion, Samuel nodded his head positively before taking a sip from his coffee cup.

  Then he turned toward Victoria and said, “Although I have always believed the man to be a total buffoon who should have never been elected to high office, I have to give old Harwell some credit on this one. That last part of his speech was magnificently played.”

  Victoria returned his glance and asked, “How so Samuel?”

  “He made himself appear to be of strong will and conviction while also backing his opponent into a corner. Now there’s no way that Sutherland can resign even if he wanted to. If he does, the American people will see him as someone who walks away from his duties after Harwell stated that there was nothing more important than fulfilling an obligation to the country at large. That could instantly kill his chances of earning the nomination of his party.”

  Ms. Holloway entered the conversation by stating, “Indeed. And now we know that depending on the circumstances, old Harwell can be surprising at times. Perhaps we should be careful not to underestimate what the man can do when properly motivated.”

  A few minutes prior to ten o’clock in the morning, Ambassador Pearson confidently strolled into the outer offices of the American Secretary of State while carrying a five pound box of chocolates. Although the purpose of his visit was for a regular monthly meeting with the Secretary, this particular second Monday of February happened to fall on Valentine’s Day. Therefore the Ambassador believed that providing the staff of his counterpart with some treats for the occasion would be nice gesture. It was cliché and he knew it, but based solely upon how the first staffer he encountered reacted, he knew that his intent would be well received.

  A moment later the Secretary of State emerged from his inner office and as usual, extended a welcoming hand toward his guest. After exchanging momentary pleasantries, and then briefly discussing how each would treat their wives to another cliché of dinner and flowers that evening, the two men retreated into the office of the Secretary to begin their ritual of a monthly closed door meeting.

  Out of curiosity, the Secretary asked, “So I know what you have in store for this evening, but do you and the family have any plans for the upcoming holiday weekend?”

  “Not especially Mr. Secretary. Although most offices in Washington D.C. will be closed next Monday, mine will not. The Republic of Texas doesn’t officially recognize the holiday America celebrates for the birth of Washington and Lincoln, so for me it will be a work day.”

  The Secretary nodded, and in true diplomatic fashion replied, “I see. Well I hope when the time comes, you enjoy whatever holiday has been created by Texas to take its place.”

  “Thank you Mr. Secretary, I shall. Now then, can we get down to business?”

  “Of course, where would you like to begin?”

  Per the norm for a man in his position, the Ambassador studied his opponent carefully during the continued exchange of ideas and proposals. Even though he believed that the threat of an investigation from Agent Bishop no longer existed, he still could see no tangible signs or expressions of mistrust from the Secretary to imply that he had ever been brought into the loop. Another possibility was that the man had been privy to what little, if anything, that the investigation may have revealed, but continued to exhibit the best poker face he had ever encountered. Then again there was a third option which the Ambassador hoped to be true. Perhaps the short length of the investigation had exposed nothing tangible, and with the elimination of the agent, any covert interest in Texas had died with him. No matter what the case might be, the Ambassador felt that he could rest more easily than he had during their meeting of January tenth.

  When believing they had reached a level of comfort as with most other meetings, the Ambassador presented the latest directive from his superiors in Austin.

  With seriousness in his expression and tone, the Ambassador said, “Mr. Secretary, I have been instructed to broach a new subject with you.”

  With a smile he replied, “Very well Mr. Ambassador. What would you like to discuss?”

  “Texas would like to implement a tariff upon those who wish to transport goods through our republic from one portion of the United States to another.”

  Although surprised by the thought of such a thing, and with the frank statement of intent, the Secretary needed clarification before he could put forth an educated rebuttal.

  Therefore he asked, “Could you please be more specific?”

  “It’s quite simple really. Either by the use of rail or other ground transportation, all modes of travel for the movement of commercial goods through Texas shall be required to pay a tariff for the privilege.”

  The Secretary understood that above all other things he needed to consider what would be in the best interests of the United States. Only then could he subsequently put forth a potential counter proposal.

  With that in mind he leaned back in his chair and said, “I see. Well by rail is clearly spelled out, and therefore requires limited discussion. However when you speak of other ground transportation, can I assume you are referring to commercial trucking?”

  “Yes Mr. Secretary, that is correct.”

  “Alright, then let’s begin there. Give me some specifics with regard to trucking.”

  Shifting to a more relaxed and non-threatening posture, the Ambassador stated, “Texas will have all trucks and vans attempting to enter the republic halted at the crossing point. If they found to be transporting any commercial goods, they will be required to pay a tariff. I don’t know how I could be more specific!”

  “And this tariff would apply to all roadways?”

  “Certainly, why would one roadway be different from another?”

  “Well I can see your point in relation to Texas state highways or even the U.S. highways that continue into other states, but I don’t see how it should apply to the interstates.”

  “That’s a curious stance Mr. Secretary. Why don’t you see the interstates as being part of the equation?”

  “Because those are federally constructed highways that crisscross the country, with an original design function of being able to transport military troops and supplies quickly if defense of the nation was needed.”

  “That’s a fascinating tidbit of historical information. However it is non-consequential in the present discussion, as those federal highways as you call them pass through what is now a neighboring nation. Therefore they are subject to our laws, not yours!”

  As that topic continued to be bantered about at great length, a delivery van had been cleared for entry through the front gate of the Tillman estate. Some of the contents within were identical to what Samuel purchased for the women in the family on Valentine’s Day every year, and per his intent during the annual process, the hand of his two sons had been forced into following suit. Whether cliché or not, some rituals should continue even if one of his sons was not home to properly present the gifts of affection. And despite what Savanah was going through, the current year would be no different.

  Beyond what had been done in the past, Samuel felt that this particular year required an expansion to his longstanding tradition. Jennifer, now nearly seventeen and driving, had become a young woman in her own right. Therefore she deserved the same gift as the other women of the house, and they would be waiting for her when she returned from school. Mason had been made aware of that fact, so even though he remained on assignment in El Paso with number thirty-one, he placed a call to the usual flower shop in Crockett so that he could add the appropriate quantity to his annual order. As for Savanah, the gift of flowers on Valentine’s Day would probably not be met with the same enthusiasm as that of the others, but Samuel didn’t want to leave his weakening little sugar empty handed.

  When the delivery truck arrived, six vases of various sizes from Samuel which brimmed with flowers were carried inside. They were destined for Victoria, Ms. Holloway, Ashley, Courtney, and h
is two granddaughters, and after setting them upon the huge dining room table, additional trips were made by the two delivery men to bring in more from both Kyle and Mason. After the Tillman women and their aging confidante took in the fragrance of what was offered in love or appreciation, Kyle and Samuel picked up two vases earmarked for Savanah. Although barely awake, she smiled faintly when her father and grandfather each asked if she would be their valentine. Sitting on opposite sides of her bed, they chatted with Savanah until her fading strength once again induced sleep.

  Returning to the family room they were greeted with warmth from their respective wives, and Victoria stated, “That was a wonderful gesture toward Savanah by both of you.”

  Later that afternoon Jennifer returned from school to discover that two vases of flowers were waiting on the dining room table for her.

  Without bothering to look at the cards, she asked no one in particular, “Who would send me flowers?”

  Samuel replied, “Well I hope this doesn’t disappoint you Jennifer, but one of those vases is from your father, and the other one is from me. We both feel that because you have grown up so much over the past year and taken on additional responsibility lately with regard to Savanah, you should have some flowers like the other women in this family.”

  Victoria stood nearby while waiting for a response. She realized that the exchange could help smooth out a sometimes difficult relationship between Samuel and Jennifer, while also understanding that for him it was a key moment within his transitionary process. He had at times ignored Jennifer in the past when compared to Savanah, but Samuel remained enough of a man to freely admit that shortcoming if questioned about it. He despised not having any control over the looming death of one granddaughter, and although that inevitability was tragic, Victoria understood that in this moment Samuel was reaching out. His honest gesture could have some influence in how the future would play out with Jennifer, and he didn’t want to lose his other granddaughter due to his own stupidity or arrogance.

  That intent was well received, as Jennifer looked at him with a slight smile and asked, “You sent me flowers grandpa?”

  “I certainly did Jennifer, and I should have done so long ago.”

  On the twenty-first of February, Jordan Harwell rose earlier than usual from a typically restless sleep. Although a vast majority of the nation would enjoy that Monday off for the Presidents’ Day holiday, and with it a respite from their particular rigors of either work or school, he would not be one of them. However beyond the normal duties associated with everyday life of his elected office, there was a bright side for the President to look forward to. He, as many of those who had preceded him, would honor the holiday which celebrated the birthdays of both George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.

  As usual there were many worries and the problematic variables within each to ponder as the President made his way toward the oval office, but some of those issues could, at least temporarily, be pushed aside. During the previous week new information, which could be deemed as both positive and negative in nature, had been brought to his attention. While those reports added to the ever growing list of concerns for the President, he had focused his attention throughout the weekend on the positive aspects of them. Submitted by Heath and the Secretary of Defense on Friday evening, they news they brought forth proved that the established surveillance on number eleven and twenty-nine was paying dividends.

  Per the stated hypothesis of Heath, tracking the movements of their respective vehicles had uncovered the location of a secretive lair within an old warehouse district. The discovery had taken place a few weeks into the past, and came their way in considerably less time than either the Secretary or Agent Bishop hoped that it would. Both were surprised at how easy it was to track the various movements of two numbered operatives, as well as the lackluster measures of security that each exhibited throughout the process. Perhaps their practices would be indicative of certain others within the organization, if as a whole they had become overconfident in their accomplishments. Unfortunately only time and further investigation could either validate or disprove such a theory.

  Within hours after their supposedly clandestine twenty minute meeting, where number eleven was observed from a distance making three separate calls on his cellphone, a series of tiny motion sensors, cameras, and listening devices were installed at various locations in and around the warehouse. The motion sensors were designed to ignore something as small as a stray cat, dog, or other animal that might be cruising about in quest of food or shelter, but they would pick up something the size of a human along with any type of transportation which might be used by them. Large movements such as those would instantly trigger the cameras and forward the transmission to an observation post set up by the Secretary for his team. If the occurrence warranted further scrutiny, then the powerful microphones would be switched on as well. Those microphones could pick up nearly any sound, and once the recordings were filtered through a computer to wash out unwanted background noise, the hope was that some tangible evidence would be revealed.

  That hope had come to fruition within a few days, as number eleven and twenty-nine met once again. Various camera angles were able to capture visual images of the cellphone screen as number eleven hit the speed dial function. As a result, zoomed in images were printed to reveal the complete area code and phone numbers for each of the three calls. The voice recordings from the planted microphones also revealed that Ambassador Pearson first dialed and spoke with a woman who had the designation of number twenty-three. Their conversation centered on the need for her to contact and forward information to various other numbered operatives within the organization. That call was followed by an in-depth conversation to a man known as number three, with the last call being to a man who he addressed as number two. Kristen had informed Heath during her lengthy confessions about the existence of number twenty-three, but had not been able to provide a name to go with the moniker. However she had provided him with the identities of the two men, but until receiving this latest intelligence, Heath had been unable to establish a solid connection between them and the Washington D.C. operatives. When the covertly gained intelligence involving contact with other ranking members of the organization had been established, and their respective cellphone numbers obtained, Heath realized that another portion of what Kristen detailed could be accurate.

  Subsequent meetings and calls from the warehouse by number eleven and twenty-nine were made on random occasions throughout the ensuing days and weeks, with the scraps of information obtained from them giving Heath even more to work with. The sporadic joint briefings that he and the Secretary of Defense had given the President on the matter were increasing in regularity since the surveillance equipment was installed, so during the latter stages of that four week timeframe, the President ordered that they along with Christopher Westin would meet with him every Friday evening and Monday morning. As a result, small and digestible amounts of information could be discussed with ample time between the meetings to review what they could represent from multiple angles.

  As he silently walked along the exterior patio of the west wing and approached the oval office, President Harwell shifted his focus slightly to a relatable topic. The Secretary of State had forwarded some information obtained during his most recent meeting with Ambassador Pearson which stated in clearly defined terms of a new regulation that Texas intended to employ as of April first. That firm decree involving a mandatory tariff had been presented by the Ambassador only a week prior to the current date, and minutes after the conclusion of that meeting, the Secretary contacted the President with news of it.

  The intent of Texas seemed questionable to both of them, and based upon the friendly and neighborly relationship which had been carefully nurtured throughout the previous year, the President and the Secretary wondered why Texas would want to move forward with such a strategy. Although it was undeniable that most neighboring nations throughout the globe were bound to have some form of friction devel
op from time to time, many of those instances could be worked out peacefully if civility took center stage. In this case however, having Texas employ a tariff for passage through their republic could create unnecessary strain upon their relationship with the United States.

  Such a viewpoint from the Secretary of State may have been understandable when the news was first received, and the President had played along as if he knew nothing. However the Secretary was unaware that the President possessed additional unshared information. With the altered identity of Ambassador Pearson and his numerous contacts with separate operatives in Texas being part of the equation, President Harwell was able to further reflect upon the meaning behind the tariff. He soon came to an understanding that he needed to reevaluate where he stood on several matters, and as an exterior door to his office was opened by a member of the Secret Service, a two-part question occurred to the President. To what lengths of deceit had the Ambassador gone throughout his various manipulations of the past, and to what end were he and those whom he reported to prepared to continue their potentially misleading intentions of the future?

  Moving through the door, the President noticed that Mrs. Dawson was already waiting for him near the desk. She held a few files for him to look over in one hand, but first presented him with a cup of hot coffee from the other.

  After savoring the first sip, he said, “Thank you Mrs. Dawson, and good morning. You’re in earlier than usual, is everything alright?”

  “Yes sir. But your schedule for the day is quite busy, so I thought you might need me.”

  “Well I appreciate the foresight and the coffee. So what’s on the docket?”

  “Sir you are clear until the eight o’clock meeting with the Secretary of Defense and Agent Bishop. However after that you will have little spare time.”

  Looking at his watch, the President realized that he had well over an hour before the scheduled briefing, and although Christopher Westin would be in the oval office long before that, it would probably be another twenty minutes before he came over from his office. Therefore he had some additional time to reach a final decision on a delicate matter which had caused limited sleep of late.