Uncivil Liberties (18 page)

“Mr. President, we’ve compiled a fairly confident picture that several of the various terrorist groups have concentrated their objectives and plan to hit us—and our allies, I might add—where we are most vulnerable, on our own soil again.”

“Are you telling me we know the target this time?”

“No, sir. The target is America—everywhere. But this time, as you saw from the summary, no airplanes, no plagues, no dirty bombs, and no chemical contamination of water supply or anything like we’ve considered, although those possibilities are always on our watch list. No, this time, Mr. President, we have reason to believe that the various terrorist groups, we don’t really know which one, intend to infiltrate America. If there is one central command, they possibly already have the people in place—small teams of snipers—in America, Australia, and England. From our experience this past couple of years, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t have native-born Americans mingled in with the infiltrators.”

“Snipers? And
Americans
, too, you say?” Snow repeated.

“Yes, sir. Hit teams. Religious zealots, primarily. Mr. President, if you recall, there were two snipers a decade back who  brought the D.C. and Virginia areas to a standstill. That’s what we believe they intend to do, but on a much larger scale. Hit us at the local level, a killing here, a killing there, a drive-by shooting in a mall parking lot, with this scenario replicated across the country every day or every week. From what we can gather, there is no large objective, no catastrophic disaster. The only possible objective of a small-scale operation like this is to terrorize neighborhoods and communities. Make our people believe that their government can’t protect them.”

“You mean throughout the country? Random killings?”

“Yes, Mr. President. That’s how we see it.”

“Do you concur, Admiral Barrington?”

“I do, Mr. President. The body count will probably not be high, statistically speaking—in fact, far less than from automobile accidents every weekend—but once the media gets on to it, we can certainly expect that as these groups take credit and try to obtain publicity for their terror tactics, the public fear will be rampant.”

“And the Aussies and the Brits as well?”

“Yes, sir. Our intelligence leads us to believe they’re also on the list.”

“Issuing a higher domestic threat alert won’t do any good, will it, General Austin?”

“No, sir. What could we tell the public? Stay home because there may be a gunman waiting on the grassy knoll? I personally think that would just fuel the panic. And that’s exactly what these people want to create.”

The president nodded his understanding. “Then they’re correct. The government
can’t
protect their citizens. How do you suggest we deal with this type of threat? Pat,” he said to the designated Secretary of Defense, “How could the military be applied? Martial law? Occupy our own cities? If this shooting starts soon, similar questions are bound to come up in your confirmation hearings.”

“Mr. President, I think Secretary Austin and Admiral Barrington have laid out the problem to the extent we understand it. In the end, if it turns out that we’re right and we see multiple sniper teams in our cities, then it will be a matter of vigilance on the part of local law enforcement, rather than the military. It’s not the kind of threat that can be repulsed by a squad of soldiers. Heaven forbid it should come to armed National Guard patrols on our streets like they had in northern Ireland in the seventies and eighties, but a public panic could eventually require exactly that.”

“That’s drastic, isn’t it?” the president asked.

“I hope it’s not necessary, Mr. President,” Collins said.

“More likely, various armed militia groups, especially in the western states, will try to take the lead with uncoordinated, locally directed patrols. Roving bands of citizens, like the Minutemen who manned the Arizona and Texas border against illegal immigrants a few years ago,” General Austin added.

“What do you mean, General?
American
militia?” President Snow asked.

“Primarily the western militia groups, Mr. President. They’d find it their patriotic duty to defend their homeland, to search out and destroy the infiltrators. And they won’t be particular about the evidence they need to convict someone. The wrong skin color or foreign accent will suit their purpose. Any ethnic group different from the basic Anglo-Saxon European will be as afraid of the militia as they are the terrorists. They would
both
become terrorists, essentially.”

The president leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of discontent. “That’s all we need—a few hundred self-directed posses with the hanging rope in the back of the pickup. Do we have a contingency plan?”

General Austin answered. “Mr. President, we’re not completely helpless, but the lack of knowledge about targets, cities, or even timing is the worst problem. We can’t ask local law enforcement to go on to double shifts in a constant state of alert. They’re complaining already about the cost of overtime and man-hours. But we’re working on it. These snipers will need to communicate, to contact their central command, if there is one. We’ve asked the NSA to focus their electronic intercept search patterns for communication in that area.”

The president rose and walked back toward his desk. “Okay, gentlemen. I appreciate your briefing. Keep me informed. Oh, by the way, General, I need to get my cabinet nominees through the Senate quickly, if we’re to deal with this threat. If these, uh, snipers are coming to America, what are the possibilities you could direct a couple of them to the Hill before the confirmation hearings get started?”

Austin smiled broadly as he stood. “Well, Mr. President—”

President Snow waved off the reply. “I didn’t say that, General. I
really
didn’t.” He continued, “Secretary Austin, if you have time, I would like you and General Connor to remain for my next meeting. Pug, this is relative to your prior assignment in California, and Secretary Austin should be brought up to speed. Joyce Jefferson served as my lieutenant governor, then she was elected governor of Arizona. She called a few days ago and asked to meet with me. She’s a wonderful person and an outstanding leader, but I don’t have a good feeling about her agenda.”

“Yes, sir,” Austin replied.

As the Oval Office cleared of participants from the prior meeting, Dixie stood in the doorway and guided several people into the room. “Mr. President,” his secretary said, “Governor Jefferson is here for her appointment.”

The first person through the door was an attractive, well-dressed black woman, followed by three men. Pug immediately recognized one of them as Dan Rawlings, the California legislator with whom he had worked on the secession investigation. The other three, including Governor Jefferson, he did not know. President Snow rose to greet the group.

“Joyce, how lovely to see you again,” the president said, kissing her cheek.

“And you, Mr. President. May I introduce my associates. Donald Tompkins is currently serving as attorney general for the State of Utah, Harry Phillips is mayor of Eugene, Oregon, and Dan Rawlings represents the 8
^th
District in the California legislature. Gentlemen, may I introduce the president of the United States, William Snow, former governor of Arizona and my dear friend.”

All shook hands, and President Snow introduced Homeland Security Secretary Austin and General Connor.

“Good to see you again, Dan,” Pug said, warmly shaking his hand.

“You two know each other?” the president asked.

“Yes, sir,” Pug replied. “Mr. Rawlings and I worked together on the California secession investigation. He provided the key bit of information that led to the breakthrough.”

Pug smiled as Dan shook his head in disagreement. “Sorry, Mr. President, it was actually
Mrs
. Rawlings who provided that information. But at that time, she was Nicole Bentley, an active duty FBI agent. She was medically retired after being shot during that investigation and has since married Mr. Rawlings.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Rawlings, and welcome, everyone. Please, find a seat and then, Joyce, you can tell me what brings you to Washington.”

The group sat around the small conference area in the Oval Office and Joyce Jefferson opened the discussion.

“Mr. President, we’re grateful for your time this afternoon. We know you’re extremely busy forming a new government and trying to put your team in place.” Jefferson hesitated just slightly, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Sir, the four of us represent a contingent of politicians from the western states.
Conservative
and
moderate
politicians,” she emphasized. “We’ve come out of respect for your office . . .” she paused again, and smiled at the president. “No, Bill, that’s not exactly true. We’ve come out of respect for
you
, to give you advance notice of our intentions.”

“Joyce, we’ve been friends for a long time, haven’t we? I know that quirky way you have of buttering the bread before you slice up the sandwich.”

Jefferson issued a slight chuckle. “Touché, Mr. President. I’ll get right to the point. Next Monday, the 25
^th
of March, a consortium of states will be holding a press conference in Las Vegas to announce our intention to join California in seceding from the United States of America and to form the Republic of Western America. As brusque as that notion is, that’s our message in a nutshell,”  she said in her well-known, no-nonsense manner.

Silence followed, with the president slowly nodding his head. “So it’s true,” he said. “I’ve heard rumors. It’s hard to keep a movement this important quiet for long. I’m surprised the press hasn’t blown it wide open. How many states do you represent?”

“Nearly everything west of the Mississippi has a movement, Mr. President. We’ve been in contact with supportive elected officials in all nineteen states. By no means are they all in agreement, and we’re not even certain that all will pass the various secession referendum in each state, but we’re quite certain of about ten states, roughly eighty million people, about twenty-six percent of the U.S. population. The other nine states would add another thirty million, or thirty-five percent. California and Texas intend to divide into three states each. Once the announcement is made, I fully expect the idea to jump the Mississippi and run across the midwest red state belt.” She paused for a moment while the group considered her remarks.

“Mr. President, we’ve even had inquiry from British Columbia and several northern Mexican states, notably Baja and Sinaloa.”

“Why, Joyce?” the president asked. “Why now?”

“Mr. President, as you know, Mr. Rawlings here was one of the most staunch opponents of the California secession movement when it started nearly two years ago. We were all opposed,” she said, sweeping her arm to include her three associates. “But Congress has continued to press forward with their government intervention, their ‘
government knows best’
philosophy. The legislation they’ve passed, the legal action against Arizona, where the federal government has failed miserably to protect its citizens, I might add, has only served to fuel this rebellion. When you and I served together in Arizona, Bill, we often spoke of the growing federal intervention. It’s been so incremental that most people just take it for granted. The federal government today bears no resemblance to the last generation, much less to the early twentieth century. But this past five to ten years has been a great leap . . . backward, in our opinion. It’s not progress we oppose, but centralized government control. In short, that’s not American.”

“Vote the bastards out, Joyce,” the president said, his tone clearly exasperated. “Then elect those you think will restore sanity.”

“You know as well as I, Mr. President, that’s not as easy as it seems, even within constitutional grounds. With a media biased against anything traditional and plenty of money to fuel the campaigns of progressives, the public is overwhelmed with competing ideas. When one candidate promises to buy their groceries, and the other candidate tells them they need to ‘tighten their belt,’ they’ll vote for the one who promises the gravy train. It’s inevitable. But we haven’t come prepared to discuss the details of our new government functional operation or the organizational structure. As to the basics, the Republic will be founded around the original intentions of America’s Founding Fathers. States’ rights, extremely limited federal authority, especially judicial activism, and a strong restriction on the length, process, and
cost
of election campaigns. We want to restore the America of our parents and our grandparents. We’re calling a halt to the incremental march toward socialism. We don’t care if people are sensitive to that word. That’s what America is becoming—a socialist nation—and it’s not what we want. We’re confident it’s not what the majority of Americans want, either. In a decade or two, people will relocate to whichever nation and government structure fulfills their personal beliefs. When that occurs, the liberal nation will have to tell the ‘takers’ that the “givers” have moved away and there’s no more gravy.

“I predict here and now, Mr. President, that within five years, the Republic of Western America will be a larger, more populous nation than the United States. It’s what the people want, despite the liberal media that trumpets a cradle-to-grave, entitlement utopia.”