The Land of the Free (23 page)

“You want me to bring three
complete strangers into the White House to see the Chief?  Have you gone nuts,
Roger?”

“I could be with them if that
helps, Matt.”  Roger Snyder was now doing his best to help get the group into
the White House.

“We don’t even
let
CIA
Agents in here,” said Matt Simpson.  “Most of us still think your agency was
behind the JFK murder.  So no, that won’t help.”

“It’s a matter of absolutely the
highest importance to our national security,” said Snyder, now realizing he was
sounding like one of the brass.  “It’s not the regular bullshit use of those
words, either.  You know me, Matt.  I don’t panic like this without good
reason.”

“I’d be fired before you even got
to his office.”

“Matt, there’s an invasion force on
its way to America.  What else should I do?”

“Why not speak to a cabinet member
first?  If you can convince him, then you might get your chance.”

“Half the cabinet is involved,”
said Snyder.  “Connolly sure as hell is.  Nothing happens without Morgensen’s
involvement, so she’s out of the question.  They tried Levine, but he’s off
kissing donors’ asses.”

“So you want someone more obscure,
with no real power but a little influence,” said Simpson.  “Kurdistani might be
a good choice.  As National Security Adviser, he has no say in what happens,
but he could arrange something.  The Chief has regular meetings with him.”

“Can you arrange that?”

“Possibly.  Kurdi waits around
quite often, usually while Morgensen monopolizes the Chief.  It’s often me and
him waiting around together, and he doesn’t mind chatting about most stuff. 
Still, I’ve never asked him for something like this.”

“Please talk to him and set up a
meeting.  It can be away from the office, wherever.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

…

The next day, Morgensen walked
right past Mansour Kurdistani and into the Oval Office, not even taking the
trouble to knock.  With the door still open, she walked straight towards
Torres’ desk.  “You need to see these,” she said, as she handed him a small
stack of reports.  “You want to know what’s going on.  Well I’m going to fill
you in.  Matheson and Connolly aren’t telling you the full extent of Chinese
hacking into our Defense systems.”  She turned around, noticed that the door
was still open then walked back to the door and closed it.

Outside the Oval Office, Kurdi was
standing near Matt Simpson, who decided that there was never going to be a
better opportunity to make his case.  Simpson deliberately made eye contact
with Kurdi – something he would not normally do – and then glanced at the door
that had just been shut.

Kurdi noted Simpson’s gesture and
allowed a simple comment.  “Yeah, they are having some diplomatic tensions with
China.  I don’t think it’s anything unprecedented.”

“Sir, I know I’m probably crossing
a line here,” said Simpson.  “But I’ve been asked to speak with someone about
evidence that China is about to invade the United States.  I didn’t believe it
at first, but I do now, at least enough to risk my career by mentioning it here.”

“Good God, Matt, what are you
talking about?” asked Kurdi, astonished.

Simpson, already tense before he
began speaking, now looked as stiff and gray as if
rigor mortis
had set
in.  “Sir, I’m requesting that you take the time to meet with my contacts. 
Security will be easier if it’s away from here.”

Simpson braced himself for what he
feared would come next.  But instead of calling for a Secret Service
supervisor, Kurdi stared at Simpson for a few seconds, looked at the floor for
a few more as if wondering which would cause him greater harm – meeting with
probable wackos, or risking the possibility that they might be right.  He then
looked back at Simpson.  “When do you finish your shift today?”

“I’m done at five.”

“Here’s my phone,” said Kurdi. 
“The line is secure.  Call your people and tell them to be at your house at
six.  Then give me directions and we’ll meet there.  Don’t have your wife cook
anything for us.  If this is crap I’m out of there in minutes.  If not, you’ll
be coming back here.”

…

Kurdi was quickly persuaded by the
evidence presented by John Corson and his colleagues.  However, reaching
President Torres would be a more complicated matter.  All inquiries were met
with the reply that the President was busy reviewing important documents provided
by Secretary Morgensen.  She insisted that he spend the evening reviewing
evidence of Chinese cyber-espionage.  By the time he was done, he was so
exhausted that he simply conceded the Cobra’s case, just to be able to put it
behind him. 
Hard work is not a problem for me
, he thought to himself. 
The
problem, and the reason Presidents always turn gray, is because there’s no
escape from the demands, and no control over the agenda.  You can’t just go
home and escape at the end of the day
.  It was in this frame of mind that
Torres gladly accepted an invitation from Carson Stahl to join him for a round
of golf the following morning.  He also left strict instructions that he was
unavailable for any meetings that day.

Kurdi came in the following morning
and despite his aggressive requests, could not be put in touch with Torres.  He
was accustomed to this sort of treatment, since he was not a true power
broker.  Out of desperation, Kurdi did the next best thing he could think of. 
He approached the power he knew worked behind the scenes, Hanna Morgensen.  She
was not able to meet with Kurdi today either.  But after explaining the
situation to her receptionist, he was finally able to secure a meeting with her
first thing the following morning.

Cam Burrows had no idea how long he
had been asleep.  He was still groggy, but the doctor was now speaking to him
and demanded his attention.  “Mr. Burrows, can you hear me?”

“Am I still at Laughlin?”

“You are indeed,” said the doctor. 
“I’ve kept you sedated while you fought the infection.  You had a nasty
E.
coli
infection that could have destroyed your kidneys.  We had you full of
antibiotics and also did some prophylactic cleansing.  It would have been
pretty painful had you been awake.”

“Thanks, Doc,” said Burrows.

“There’s someone here who wants to
see you, so I’ll excuse myself now and let the two of you talk.”  The doctor
left, and Burrows was alone with Colonel March.

“Did you find anything, Colonel?”

“We sure did.  Everything you said
was true.  I didn’t believe you at first, but we did some surveillance and
learned it’s Chinese cargo aircraft making the trip.  They hold enough fuel to
make it clear across the Pacific.  The rate at which they’re making the
crossing and the volume of cargo they can hold is staggering.  The base is a
serious threat to us, that much is clear.”

“So are you fortifying Laughlin?”

“No.”

“What?  Why the hell not?”

“Washington isn’t listening to me. 
Their mission in Taiwan and their buildup in the Middle East take priority over
the southern border of the US.  They just don’t get the scale of what’s
happening here.”

“That’s just typical,” said
Burrows.  “They won’t let us pursue anyone that crosses the border armed, and
now they’re not letting us defend our country.  With leaders like ours, it’s a
wonder we haven’t been invaded yet.”

“I agree with you 100 percent. 
That’s why I wanted to see you.  Your name is hot with the press right now.  If
I could get you to record a video of what you saw, then I’d put our footage
into it and make it really powerful.  We can leak it to the press to force
their hand.  What do you say?”

“Count me in,” said Burrows.

The recording session lasted the
better part of two hours, with Burrows asked to restate the case five or six
times.  The shots were done in short segments, so a misspoken word would not
ruin several minutes worth of recording.  By the time it was finished, Burrows
had said things so many different ways that the meaning of the message would be
determined almost entirely by the editing process.

Colonel March approached Burrows
and shook his hand.  “I want to thank you for that.  I think this will really
make a big difference in getting our story heard in Washington.  Now, why don’t
you come with me and have some real food.  You must be starving after being on
nothing but fluids these past days.”

“Thanks, I’d like that.  I’d like
to go home right after that if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly,” said March.  He led
Burrows down the corridor then opened a door for him.  Burrows walked through
it and March slammed it closed and locked it behind him.  Inside, Burrows
recognized too late the layout of the room.  It was a brig, a lot like the one
at San Gustavo.

Back in his office, March was on
the phone.  “We got the footage.”

“Yeah, it’s all there.”

“Connolly?  Sure, what’s his
email?”

“I lost it with her Carson,” said
Torres, sitting in his golf cart with Carson Stahl.  “I threatened to go tell
the public how the country is run.”

“I would not have advised that,”
said Stahl.  “Granted, you probably did it out of frustration and you weren’t
thinking clearly.”

“They simply went ahead with a
covert program against the Chinese missile defense system without my
permission.  They killed the wrong people, and now they want me to cover for
them diplomatically.  How could I not lose it?”

“Ideally, you would have found a
way to be on board at the outset.  Then you might have been able to set
limits.  Still, this is uncharacteristically bold of them.  I’d be concerned
about this development and what it means going forward.”

They got out of the cart and took
their shots, then resumed the conversation again once in the cart.  The Secret
Service stayed close to them ever since the attempt on Torres’ life, and Torres
valued his privacy when speaking with Stahl.

“I finally backed down when she
told me in plain English that if I forced them to drop the pretense, they would
do so.  She asked if I was ready for an America where they ruled openly or
words to that effect.  And I could see in her face she was scared.  It wasn’t
just my rage that had her on edge.  She knows how to deal with that.  There was
something more to it.”

“Sometimes when a threat is made”
said Stahl, “it corresponds to something that’s being planned, or considered. 
As I said, this concerns me.  She may have been scared because she was afraid
of letting something slip too early.”

“I don’t have any real power to
push back if this is the way it’s going to be from now on.  How can I tell them
to conduct themselves in a certain fashion if they can tell me to shut up or
they’ll oust me?”

“As long as everyone agrees to play
the game, there can be unspoken rules governing how it’s played,” said Stahl. 
“It’s when the game is abandoned that everything goes out the window.  Going
public is still your nuclear option, Jackson.  You can only do that once, so
keep it to yourself unless there’s no other choice.  Don’t make that threat
ever again.  You can’t win the fight.  But if the fight comes to you, you can
make it impossible for them to win it.”

“That’s where I don’t see what I
can do, Carson.  My threat was hollow because the public doesn’t listen to me. 
When I speak, everyone changes the channel.  The next guy would come on the air
and say everything is fine, and nobody would change their minds.”

“How wrong you are, Jackson.  Your
speeches about some stupid jobs program or tax policy are justifiably ignored
because you’re full of shit when you deliver them.  But if you were to blow the
lid off the way things worked, it would change everything forever.  I don’t
want to see it come to that because it would be a disaster for the governing
order in the country.  Be very careful, Jackson.  Watch your back.”

Jess and Lyle spent their first
days at sea weary of hope that they could return to the United States in time
to have any impact on the coming operation.  They stayed on the ship rather
than disembark at Colon, Panama.  They decided that in light of everything that
had happened, the ship was the safest place to be.  In any event, they had no
enthusiasm for sharing in any of the fun activities available to the
passengers.  Lyle made some calls and arranged for Dwight’s body to be returned
to Kingston for burial in his family plot.  That detail attended to, he found
himself past the point of worrying, and slowly started to think once again of
his surroundings, and of Jess.

They went to the fancy dinners that
were served on board, and while still dressed up walked outside after dark to
enjoy the stars.  Despite sharing a stateroom out of practicality, Lyle and
Jess respected each others’ need for privacy, each leaving the room when the
other needed time alone.  While they had developed obvious affection for each
other, the circumstances of their journey weighed so heavily on them that they
had not acted on those feelings.  At least not until now.

They were standing at the railing,
watching the dark ocean reflecting moonlight.  Lyle fidgeted a little, cleared
his throat, and said, “Jess, when we get home and you’re able to return to your
life and can make a truly free choice about the matter, do you think there’s
any chance I could see you again?  I mean regularly.  You know, maybe a date?”

Jess said nothing at first. 
Instead, she stepped closer to him, slipped her arm around his waist under his
sport coat and lay her head against his chest.  Looking up at him, she
whispered, “You bet, Lyle.”

Lyle’s heart started to beat so
strongly he was afraid she would hear it, but he gently put his arm around her
and they stood there for a while, savoring the moment.  It was interrupted by
the sound of a helicopter landing on the ship.  It looked like a US Coast Guard
chopper, thought Lyle. 
It’s probably nothing
, he thought to himself,
unwilling to let go of the moment with Jess.

After a time, then went inside to
one of the many bars onboard, and ordered some last drinks before bed.  They
spoke of home, and how life was before they were pulled into the adventure. 
Jess waxed enthusiastically of Lyle’s home in the Catskills.  But something had
changed.  There was a new depth to the way they looked at each other. Jess in
particular seeming to be glowing.

Finally walking back to their state
room, Lyle felt conflicted, his will to maintain platonic relations almost
gone.  But as they turned the corner, they were shocked to find security guards
standing outside their room.  Lyle turned and saw another behind him at the far
end of the hall.  There was nowhere to run and Lyle could no longer deny that
the Coast Guard chopper had probably come for them. 
Morningstar sure has a
long reach
he thought, fighting to stay composed.  He gripped Jess’ hand
tighter than before, and stoically approached the security guard.

“Are you Lyle Ferguson and Jessica
Linssman?” asked the guard.

“Yes, that’s us,” said Lyle.

“I have instructions to escort you
to the Coast Guard chopper,” replied the guard.

Their hearts sank in despair at the
realization that their worst nightmare may have just come true, banishing the
euphoria they felt just moments before.  They walked with the guard to the
helipad, and as the guard turned the corner out the door, Jess gave Lyle a
quick kiss.  Lyle looked at her gratefully, wondering where this would end up,
fearing it was likely in the ocean.  The Coast Guard pilot politely welcomed
them on board and showed them to their seats.  He made no indication of his
purpose with them.  They were quickly airborne, their dreams now on hold.