The Reformers: A Matt Blake Novel (The Matt Blake legal thriller series Book 2) (27 page)

BOOK: The Reformers: A Matt Blake Novel (The Matt Blake legal thriller series Book 2)
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Chapter 61

 

 

The election was two weeks away, and my poll numbers were still climbing. According to Don Cooper, the Blake/Grasso ticket was in the lead with 56 percent, compared to Bartholomew at 42 percent, and Lysle Kurt, the Democratic nominee at 10 percent. Don had warned me that with good polling numbers in the waning days of an election, you tend to get nervous. I was nervous, and so was Don, and so was Dee. But you can’t keep from thinking, “What can go wrong?” The TV anchors were unanimous in referring to my numbers as a “commanding lead,” along with the scores of my fellow nominees running for the House and Senate. Things were looking good, and it was hard to ignore. Especially hard to ignore was the very concept of my being president. I had started to work informally with my transition team to put together a slate of cabinet officers.

***

“This is Shepard Smith of Fox News, ladies and gentlemen, and we interrupt this broadcast to bring you some horrible news. We have received a confirmed report that a bomb exploded in Disney World this morning next to the Magic Kingdom area. From early reports, we can tell you that apparently 150 children have been killed, along with 95 adults. We know there were dozens more severely injured. The scene is gruesome, and we’re editing the video carefully to spare our viewing audience a sickening view of carnage. Today was a big day at Disney World. School groups from around the country had been invited to welcome the newly refurbished Magical Kingdom exhibit. For so many of these poor kids, as well as their parents, what was supposed to be a day of fun, has turned into a day of horror.”

Smith grabbed his earpiece and looked at the camera with a face of a man who hated what he was about to say.

“Oh my Lord, ladies and gentlemen, we have just received word that there has been an explosion at the Six Flags Magic Mountain Park in Los Angeles. We don’t have any word yet on casualties, but our affiliate in L.A. tells us that the numbers will be in the hundreds.”

Smith looked at the camera and stopped talking.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in all of my years in journalism, I have never had more horrific news to bring you. Our producers are now telling me that there have been at least a dozen bombings at amusement parks all across the country. I was on the air when 9/11 happened, but that attack was nothing compared to what I’m hearing. Today is a sad and shocking day for America”

***

“This is what Imam Mike was talking about,” I said to Rick Bellamy on his secure phone. “He said something big was coming, but I could never conceive of this.”

Bellamy and I spoke briefly, because as head of the Homeland Security, his calendar was full.

I was at my campaign headquarters that morning, having coffee with Dee and Don Cooper. We looked at the news reports on the TV and exchanged glances. The reports were too horrible to call for comment. My secure phone rang. It was Imam Mike.

“Matt, you know that I never report something unless I’m sure about it, but my people are telling me that the NFL is definitely behind this.”

“Mike, do you have any objective proof?”

“No, I don’t Matt, just what I’ve been told by my inside guys.”

At 5 p.m. a 15-second political commercial began to run on all TV and radio networks. The message was simple and stark:

“Are your children safe? Are
you
safe? How long will this continue?
Not For Long
, friends,
Not For Long
. This message has been brought to you by the Freedom from Terror Party, Bartholomew Martin for President.”

Chapter 62

 

 

As you would expect, the news of the terror attacks on amusement parks dominated the airwaves and print media as well. The numbers of deaths kept rising, as hundreds of kids and their parents succumbed to their injuries. The interviews with survivors were difficult to watch. But there was one story, not quite hidden, that also caught the country’s attention.

Dramatic Shift in Polls Two Weeks before the Election

Wallace Beaton for
The New York Times

“As the nation still reels from the news of the horrific attacks on amusement parks three days ago, another major event is forming. Matt Blake, the Republican Nominee for President of the United States, had a comfortable, almost a commanding lead just a few days ago. That has changed, and it has changed dramatically. Blake went from a 14 percent lead to a 10 point deficit in a matter of three days. Bartholomew Martin, the nominee for the Freedom from Terror Party, now leads with 52 percent to Blake’s 42 percent. Kurt Lysle, the Democratic nominee still trails at 6 percent.  From the barrage of TV and radio ads since the amusement park attacks, it appears the Bartholomew’s Freedom from Terror Party is capitalizing on the national trauma, and the polls show that it’s working. Terror is once again tops everybody’s list of things to worry about. His congressional and senatorial running mates have also seen an enormous shift in their polling numbers. The election is now just 12 days away, and it appears that Bartholomew Martin is now on track to win.”

 

***

 

On Election Day, Bartholomew Martin, and his running mate, retired Army General Jerome Bateman, swept the landscape and won by a landslide in all 50 states. The country had a new president, although nobody seemed to know what he stood for.

“This is Wolf Blitzer for CNN ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, American political history has been re-written. Not only has a third party candidate, Bartholomew Martin of the Freedom from Terror Party, been elected in a landslide, he brought with him solid majorities in both the House and Senate. Many a congressman and senator who has served for decades has been shown the door by the voters. This is a new political landscape, folks, one that we’re still trying to get our heads around. But we can say this: The Freedom from Terror Party is at the controls of government.”

 

Bartholomew Martin was sworn in as the 46
th
President of the United States on a brisk day on January 20.

 

Inauguration speeches can be stirring, as was John F. Kennedy’s memorable address—“Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.”

 

Inaugural speeches can also be dull, and it often has to do with the temperature. But President Martin’s speech was one of the most anticipated political events in years. He had run a stirring campaign, and now the country awaited his words for the future.

 

“My fellow Americans,” he began, “we greet this day with optimism, an optimism bred of hope for the peace we have long sought, an optimism that will see enormous changes in the way we do things. Gone are the days when we let silly laws and regulations interfere with our way of life. Gone are the days when we allow political correctness get in the way of what must be done. Gone are the days of selfishness masquerading as privacy.”

 

Reginald Mikelson, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, glanced at his colleague to his right when Martin said the words “selfishness masquerading as privacy.”

 

“We now welcome the days of diligence,” Martin continued, “days of ensuring our safety and prosperity, the days when we stop allowing our petty privacy to interfere with the good of the country.”

 

Justice Mikelson nudged his fellow justice in the arm. “Petty privacy? What the fuck is this man talking about?”

 

“What we give up in our selfish pursuits, we gain for the common good. God bless America.”

 

The crowd erupted in a thundering roar of approval. A few in the audience, mainly members of the judiciary and a few legislators, looked at each other uncomfortably.

 

“Don’t worry, honey,” Senator Strobel of Massachusetts said to his wife, “those are just applause lines.”

 

“Then why weren’t
you
applauding?” she said.

 

***

 

Bartholomew never cared for dancing. It’s a stupid pursuit, and can’t be analyzed with data, he thought. But he recognized that the new president’s inaugural ball—well, it was actually a few balls—is a tradition in America he couldn’t avoid.

 

Emily Strand, his date for the evening, was a stunning blond, almost as tall as President Martin in her heels. She had long, flowing blond hair, and a Hollywood smile. The few times she spoke when a microphone was shoved in front of her, were brief, one-line comments. Phone lines at various news organizations across the country lit up with the same question: “Who is Emily Strand?” Nobody knew.

 

At 7:30 p.m. the president and his date were on the dance floor at the first of the many balls they would attend that evening, this one at the White House itself. Simon Schmidt, the president’s chief of staff, walked quickly up to the dancing couple and leaned in next to the president’s ear.

Martin looked at his date and said, “I’ll be back shortly, dear.”

 

He and Schmidt walked to the Situation Room of the White House, the office where sudden national emergencies could be monitored. General Carlo Romero, the staff officer on duty, greeted the president and Simon Schmidt.

 

“Mr. President, we have an urgent situation at our embassy in Yemen.”

 

“Please, general, I am not interested in your opinion. Please give me the data to back up your assertion of the word ‘urgent.’ ”

 

Bartholomew Martin lived by data, by numbers, by measureable metrics.

 

“Sir, our embassy in Aden, the capital of Yemen, has been attacked.”

 

“Did we not close that embassy less than a year ago for a similar incident?”

 

“Yes, sir, but it was reopened three months ago on the order of President Reynolds.”

 

“Give me the numbers please, general.”

 

“All 35 staffers at the embassy were killed, including Ambassador Greene.”

 

“Please hand me my secure phone, Simon,” President Martin said calmly to his chief of staff, “and patch me into General Hugo Scott, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

 

“Scott here, Mr. President.”

 

“General, three days ago you gave me a briefing on what we called
Code Anchor
concerning our contingency plans for our embassy in Yemen. I have one word, general:
execute
.”

 

“Mr. President, do you mean a preliminary sortie?”

 

“General, if I meant
part
of Code Anchor I would have said it. Execute Code Anchor, the entire Code Anchor.”

 

“Yes sir.”

***

The first of 10 sorties of five F16s each launched from the Aircraft Carrier
USS Gerald R. Ford.
As the planes screamed toward their target, the government buildings in Aden, the temporary capital of Yemen, the pilots armed their rockets and bombs. They released their payloads as the planes approached the capital building. The fighter jet sorties were accompanied by 10 cruise missile attacks. Before the third wave of F16s approached the government compound, every building had been destroyed, along with 425 occupants, including the president of Yemen and the mayor of Aden. The scene looked less like a bombing site than a pile of dirt.

 

***

 

President Martin calmly walked back into the ballroom, and approached his date, who was being hit on by a secret service agent. After a freezing look from Martin, the agent disappeared into the crowd.

 

“I’m so sorry, Emily,’ said the president. He looked at his watch. “My goodness, I’ve been gone for a half-hour. Ah, they’re playing my favorite song.”

 

The singer, who did a perfect imitation of Frank Sinatra, crooned. “I did it
my
way
.”

 

 

PART TWO – THE NEW BEGINNING

 

"Freedom
is
never
more
than one
generation
away
from
extinction."

Ronald Reagan, 40th President of the United States

Chapter 63

 

 

It happened slowly.

We didn’t notice it at first.

Everything seemed normal, except for small changes.

Then it was over.

We lived in a new country, a new world.

 

***

 

Moustaffa al Ishak stood in a 15-foot high tower to survey the training facility. As he looked out over the hundreds of new recruits, his eyes lingered on the beautiful mountains of Afghanistan in the distance. The training camp that Ishak commanded was strictly for fresh recruits to the Islamic State. The 450 young men were raw, inexperienced, and young, with an average age of 19. But the one thing they all had in common was an unwavering devotion to the outer fringes of radical Islam. Many of the recruits would be tagged as future martyrs, suicide bombers for the cause of radical Islam and the Islamic State.

Ishak was pleased with the large cache of weapons he had at his disposal, booty from a raid the previous year on a large American base camp.

He walked over to the firing range, after inserting plugs in his ears. He watched as one recruit after another ran 25 yards at top speed, dropped to his stomach, and opened fire at a target in the distance. He saw ten young men go through this drill.

He then walked over to the physical fitness section of the camp. The temperature was 101 degrees Fahrenheit. The men, arranged in groups of 10, sprinted past him and then lunged up to grab onto the overhead parallel bars. Two of the recruits lay on the side of the field, overcome by heat exhaustion.

He looked at his cell phone, which had just vibrated. It was a text message, from a caller he couldn’t identify. “Enjoy your training, Moustaffa. Enjoy watching your recruits. Enjoy your day, because it will be
Not For Long
.”

He heard a sound above him in the sky. He looked up, and in the final moment of his life, quickly counted four Predator drone aircraft diving toward the camp.

All 450 recruits and 20 trainers lay dead in the blazing sun.

***

Ali Musharif walked quickly down the street in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn in New York City. He had just closed his halal butcher shop and looked forward to hearing Imam Osama ibn Shafir, his favorite preacher. Shafir was due to speak at the mosque in Brooklyn, although his home location was Hoboken, New Jersey. Shafir’s talk was preceded by the
Zuhr
or mid-day prayer.

Shafir stood before the crowd of 150 worshippers and smiled. He loved to give speeches, and was famous for his fiery brand of radical crowd-pleasers.

“Welcome inside this sacred ground, my friends, a sacred place because it is free of infidels.”

He noticed three men at the back of the prayer room. As if on cue, they each pulled down a mask over his face. The men then reached under their coats and pointed their M16 automatic machine guns at the backs of the worshippers in front of them.

After they stopped firing, the three men walked calmly toward the back of the mosque where a car awaited them.

Everyone in the mosque lay dead.

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