Convergence

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Convergence Page 19

by Frank L. Williams


  Joshua spun and began snaking his way through the crowd. He had difficulty getting to Ray because of people wanting to talk to him and shake his hand. While he appreciated the sentiment, they were slowing him down. He politely but firmly let person after person know that he had to take care of something before he could stop and chat. After several minutes he finally reached the pickup where Ray was talking with a group of people.

  Ray grabbed Joshua and hugged him. “Man, that was one hell of a speech!”

  “Thanks. Ray, may I have a moment?”

  “Sure, buddy. Anything you want.” Ray nodded to the others and followed Joshua.

  “I have one question I’d like to ask in private, then some information I’d like to share with both you and Major Chinn.”

  “Fire away.”

  “When the old man rescued us the other day, two federal agents were still alive when we left. In bad shape, but alive. You asked us where they were and then left, presumably headed to their location. Then the news reported that all of the agents had been killed.”

  Ray looked down at his feet. “They were dead by the time we got there. I had a feeling someone would try to finger us for that.”

  “Are you giving me your word that you didn’t kill them?”

  Ray’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Joshua. “We didn’t kill them. Not that it would’ve been a bad idea, but we didn’t. So far all we’ve killed are jihadis.”

  “Good.” Joshua nodded for Ray to follow. They made their way to the bench where Major Chinn, Rebecca, Jack and Jim were standing. “Major, I wanted you and Ray to hear this at the same time. Drew Thompson has gone missing.”

  “What?” Ray removed his baseball cap. “When?”

  “The day he came and told you we had been captured by the Homeland Security agents. He never made it back.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Ray said. “I told him to be careful.”

  “We’ve told him the same, but that doesn’t matter now,” Joshua said.

  “Who’s got him? AIS? I’d like to kill a few more of them anyway.”

  “My money’s on Homeland Security,” Joshua said. “Some of our people went through a checkpoint on the way here, and the agents showed them my picture and asked if they had seen me. A week ago they were looking for Drew. The fact that I’m now their target tells me that they’ve captured him, or worse.”

  “That’s a good observation,” Major Chinn said. “You need to be very careful when you’re out and about. They were relentless in looking for Thompson. We’ve barely been able to sneeze without being asked if we know him.”

  Ray donned his cap and looked up, his lips pursed. “We’ll scour every inch of these mountains until we find him.”

  Joshua chuckled. “Don’t burn everything down in the process.”

  “Only the parts that need it.”

  Major Chinn finished his drink and put the plastic cup on a ledge attached to a nearby post. “I’ll make contact with General Cloos and find out if he has any advice or instructions. Joshua, how can I contact you in the meantime?”

  Ray nodded. “Same here. I need to be able to reach you.”

  Joshua cocked an eyebrow and made eye contact with Rebecca and then Jack. “We haven’t given the location of our camp to anyone, and mobile phones won’t work in our camp.”

  “Sat phones will,” Chinn said.

  “None of us have a satellite phone,” Joshua said.

  “You do now.” Chinn removed two black mobile devices from his haversack and handed them to Joshua and Ray. “These are encrypted, and they are not on a standard military network. They also have videoconference capability. General Cloos acquired them from an outside source.”

  “I think I like the general,” Jack said. “Sounds like he’s covered his bases.”

  “General Cloos acquired these phones within a week of the attacks,” Chinn said. “He had a premonition about how things would turn out with Armando as president.”

  Rebecca patted Joshua on the back. “He’s not the only one. Josh didn’t like him from day one.”

  Ray stepped toward Joshua. “Drew told me you guys wanted to stay out of the fray. I can understand that, but the movement needs you. America needs you. We really need for you and your folks to get off the sidelines. We need you, and you’ve needed us more than once.”

  Joshua felt conflicted. On the one hand, he knew they were right. He couldn’t sit on the sidelines forever, and he felt an inner pull to get involved. On the other hand, his loyalty was to Rebecca and those in the camp. More than anything, he wanted to spend time with his wife. He heaved a deep sigh. “I’d have to run that by our camp council.”

  “Understood,” Ray said. “When is your next meeting? I’ll come talk to them.”

  “I’d like to come as well,” Chinn said.

  Joshua pursed his lips. “I’ll need to run that by our council as well. I’ll be in touch.”

  Melanie rejoined the group, along with Congressman Harris and Governor Haines, as the three men programmed the others’ numbers into their phones. She extended her hand to Joshua. “Mr. Winston, I just wanted to say that your speech inspired me. Since Governor Harper’s death I’ve had very little hope for our future. Thanks for making me believe again.”

  Joshua felt his face flush red. “Thank you. I was just speaking from the heart.”

  “That’s what made it special,” she said. “It was genuine.”

  Colonel Lester Wade slowly made his way to the group, his great-grandson at his side. The old man took a puff from a pipe. He put his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “Son, look at the group of people you’ve got standing around you here. A Marine whose C.O. has nationwide connections. A Congressman. A Governor.” He gestured toward the people still milling around inside the barn. “An army of people who want to take their country back.” Lester’s eyes narrowed and he leaned closer. Joshua could almost feel the man’s gaze focused on him. “Son, this is your destiny calling. Don’t let history pass you by.” He turned and walked away before Joshua could summon the words for a response.

  Joshua swallowed hard. Perhaps the old man was right. Maybe it was time for him to get off the sidelines. He’d always said that good people had to lead, or bad people would do so in their stead. Now, his own mantra was a challenge to him. He didn’t want to get into the middle of this fray, but it was knocking on his doorstep nonetheless. Rebecca patted him on the back reassuringly, as though she could telepathically sense his self-doubt and internal conflict. The simple push in the back she had given him before he stepped onto the truck bed was evidence of her support for him. She had always supported him, even when she would have preferred that he not partake of the political game. But this was no longer a game, and he sensed that she now wanted him to step back onto the playing field of history.

  Joshua took a deep breath, feeling tension leave his body as he exhaled. He shook hands with everyone in the group, then motioned for Rebecca, Jim and Jack to follow him. Before they reached the door a short, heavy-set man handed them each a small flag. Joshua unrolled the flag, surprised to see that it was the same design as the one they had seen posted adjacent to a pile of dead terrorists. The main body was yellow, and its most prominent feature was a coiled rattlesnake. In the top left corner appeared a modified American flag whose strips were consistent with the American flag, but which had no stars in the blue rectangle.

  Joshua spun and grabbed the man by the shoulder. “Tell me about this flag.”

  The man spoke with a noticeable stutter. “Th, th, th, th, this is the, the, flag of the Fr, Fr, Fr, Fr, Free America M, M, M, Movement.”

  “What is the Free America Movement?”

  “Ju, ju, just what you saw he, he, here tonight. People who, who, want their freedom b, back.”

  “Who is the leader?”

  The man explained that the movement was not well organized. Ray Sawyer had emerged as the de facto leader, but considered himself to be unqualified for the job. There were lots of helper
s, but no one to pull it together. At this point the “movement” was basically a collection of independent groups that happened to have a common interest.

  When asked about the origin and design of the flag, the man explained that the yellow background and coiled snake were a tip of the hat to the “don’t tread on me” spirit of the American Revolution as embodied in the Gadsden flag. The modified American flag was intended to signify America’s greatness. The stars had been removed because no one knew what state boundaries would look like – or how many stars would be needed – when the dust settled.

  Joshua thanked the man. He stared at the flag as he walked toward the Yukon. Very interesting indeed, he thought. As they approached the vehicle Joshua noticed a folded piece of paper wedged into the left rear drivers’ side door. He removed the paper and unfolded it.

  “What’s that?” Rebecca asked.

  Joshua motioned for her to hold on, his eyebrows furrowed. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

  “Josh?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.” Joshua shook his head.

  “Try us,” Jack said.

  “I’ll read the whole thing to you,” he said. “It’s addressed to me. ‘Joshua. The feds have Thompson. He is alive. Your mole also lives. It is Moore.”

  “Who wrote it?” Rebecca cocked an eyebrow.

  Joshua chuckled and finished reading the note: “Sincerely, Mordecai.”

  “That crazy old man is here?” Jack asked.

  “Apparently so, and he even knew which door to put the note on.” Joshua shook his head. “He knew where I was sitting on the way here.”

  Joshua and the others surveyed their surroundings, but saw no trace of the eccentric mountain man. Five minutes later they started up the Yukon. Joshua activated his radio. “Departing now. Follow assigned routes and report any issues.” Chuck and Perry both responded in the affirmative. Jack guided the Yukon through a winding maze of narrow mountain roads. After three and a half hours they ventured into Tennessee and approached Fontana Dam from the west, eventually reaching the camp without incident.

  CHAPTER 11

  Friday, November 2, 2018 – 10:04 a.m. – Virginia Beach

  Benjamin reclined his conference chair as the 60-inch screen flared to life late the next morning. He wasn’t sure why Russo had invited him to this meeting, but felt it might be informative to attend. In addition to Russo and General Palmer, an Asian man named Angúo Zhou joined them. The man appeared to be in his early fifties and wore a charcoal grey pinstripe suite, neatly pressed white shirt, burgundy tie and pocket square and a gold tie clip and matching cufflinks. Based upon his name Benjamin assumed he was of Chinese descent. Even though he spoke perfect English, he had made no effort to engage in small talk since his arrival. Benjamin made a mental note to find out more about him.

  General Cloos’ image appeared on screen, along with several other Marine personnel. What do you want today, General Palmer? And who’s the new guy? Need reinforcements?

  General Palmer spoke in a deep, authoritative voice. “General Cloos, the time for sarcasm and condescension has passed.” He gestured toward Zhou. “This is Angúo Zhou. President Armando has tapped him to assist with national defense and homeland security.”

  Palmer paused, then continued. “General, consider yourself on notice that we will use military force against your personnel if you do not cease and desist from brazenly defying the president’s directives by taking actions into your own hands.”

  Benjamin silently chuckled as the sound of Cloos spitting into the Styrofoam cup on his desk radiated outward from the speakers.

  Cloos leaned forward and pointed at the screen. Until this administration takes steps to reconstitute Congress, I do not and will not recognize its authority. And my men will wipe the field with your boys.

  Zhou rose to his feet and spoke with a shrill, high pitch. “General Cloos, this is unacceptable. There are forces at work here you do not know and cannot comprehend. You must know that you cannot succeed.”

  Forces I don’t know about? Cloos reclined in his chair. Please enlighten me.

  “You are a rebel against the United States government, and therefore I cannot entrust you with that information. You are not cleared!”

  Benjamin studied Cloos’ on-screen countenance. The Marine’s lips were pursed in an outright snarl. His eyes glowed with indignation. Righteous indignation in his mind, Benjamin thought.

  After several seconds of silence, Cloos responded: Look, pissant. I don’t know who you are or where you came from, and I don’t really care. But you should know this: I don’t answer to you, and I don’t take orders from you. His eyes shifted slightly. General, show me that this administration has a strategy to deal with AIS. Show me that this administration is taking real steps to reconstitute Congress. And prove to me that your thugs had nothing to do with the drone attack here eight months ago, or the attack at Watts Bar Lake. Then we’ll talk. He motioned for his people to end the video connection, and the screen went blank.

  Russo turned to face the group. “Gentlemen, we clearly have a rogue Marine on our hands. In the interest of national security, we simply cannot allow this type of insubordination to stand. General Cloos is operating outside the chain of command, and his actions are a threat to our nation’s stability. General Palmer, begin taking immediate steps to neutralize the threat posed by General Cloos and his men.”

  General Palmer nodded. “We will begin preparing for military action, and I will reach out to Admiral Trawick and Colonel Roberts.”

  Russo nodded and fixed his eyes on Benjamin. “Liebowitz, do you have any comments or insights to offer?”

  “None at this time, Anthony. I’m still processing everything I just heard.”

  “Very well. Meeting adjourned.”

  “I do have one question,” Benjamin interjected. “Was the president made aware of this call, and has he signed off on the steps we are now taking?”

  “No. Sometimes plausible deniability is in order.” Russo’s eyes narrowed. “I trust you will keep it that way.”

  Benjamin nodded. As they left the room, Benjamin reflected on General Cloos’ words and demeanor. The man clearly meant business, and he was not someone to be taken lightly. But what was his motivation? And what was his end game? And what was Russo’s real reason for keeping President Armando in the dark? What was the origin of the relationship between Russo and General Palmer? How did they become such close allies? What was Zhou’s background, and what did he mean by ‘forces at work here you do not know and cannot comprehend’? With every day that passed, Benjamin had more questions than answers.

  ***

  11:46 a.m. – Fontana Dam

  Joshua swallowed hard as he walked across the clearing to Ruth’s cabin, flanked by Jim and Perry. Things had turned south quickly when he confronted John about possibly being the camp’s mole. It had ended with John lying dead on the ground in a pool of blood, shot to death by his seemingly hysterical wife, Ruth.

  At the time Joshua believed Ruth was genuinely distraught by the idea that her husband had betrayed them. However, the situation had immediately raised alarm bells with Jack, who later pointed out that Ruth had put three rounds in her husband’s chest, in an impressively tight grouping. That was quite a feat for someone who appeared to be hysterical. Appeared. Jack also questioned why Ruth was so quick to assume her husband of 30 years was guilty.

  Last night, Mordecai had relayed the message that the camp still had a mole, and that the mole’s name was still Moore. Everything the old man had said so far had been on point, so there was no reason to doubt him now. Joshua hoped he was wrong, but his gut told him otherwise.

  Joshua instinctively looked off to the right, toward the spot in the woods where Jack was camouflaged in his Ghillie suit, observing the proceedings through his rifle scope. If Ruth was as conniving as the situation suggested, he didn’t want to take any chances. He wished Kane were here to assist, but he and Tommy were out
scouring the countryside in search of Drew, who was still missing.

  Joshua pursed his lips and knocked on the door. After ten seconds with no response, he knocked again. There was still no answer. “Ruth? Ruth, are you here? We’d like to talk with you about something.”

  Something wasn’t right about the situation. Joshua had seen Ruth enter her cabin less than fifteen minutes earlier, and neither he nor Rebecca had seen her leave. He made eye contact with Perry, then knocked again. “Ruth?”

  “Behind you.” Joshua, Perry and Jim turned to face Ruth and found themselves staring down the barrel of a revolver. “Don’t move.”

  Joshua’s stomach twisted into knots. “Ruth, we just want to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She shifted her hold on the pistol grip and walked toward the edge of the clearing that led to the road.

  Joshua’s throat tightened as Rebecca stepped from behind their cabin and tip-toed toward Ruth from behind, her Beretta drawn. His heart pounded as his wife closed the gap with her adversary.

  SNAP! Rebecca’s head jerked down as a twig cracked beneath her feet. When she did, Ruth spun and fired the revolver. A shrill shriek pierced Joshua’s ears as the love of his life went down. An arctic chill consumed his body, and all he could see was Rebecca lying on the ground, motionless. He instinctively charged toward her.

  “Stop or I will shoot you!” Ruth’s shrill, snarling edict snapped Joshua out of his trance-like focus.

  Joshua took another step forward.

  “Don’t try me!” Ruth’s eyes had the look of a territorial mountain lion.

  Joshua took another step. His body jolted as the sound of a shot filled the air. He heard the sound of metal impacting metal, and the revolver flew out of Ruth’s hand in the direction of Jack’s position. Jack had not fired the shot; it had come from the opposite direction. Ruth let out a high-pitched shriek, did a smooth forward roll and vaulted to her feet.

  Joshua charged toward Rebecca. As he did, Ruth revealed a backup pistol, spun and trained it on him. Joshua froze as a shot rang out. Then another. He looked down and grabbed his abdomen. But he hadn’t been shot. He looked up as Ruth fell to the ground, blood spilling out of her midsection.

 

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