Uncivil Liberties (7 page)

“Within this room, we have the cadre of leadership from the elected legislatures of eight states. I submit that within ninety days of the public announcement of our intentions, that number will swell . . . and our enemies will mobilize. They will fight tooth and nail to deter our success. But be assured, ladies and gentleman, we do
not
seek revolution—we seek to resurrect the basic principles, eternal principles . . .
God-given principles
, that our forefathers enacted when this great nation was founded. I would be the first to acknowledge that it took America over one hundred years to extend that equality to everyone who lived here, my family included, but extend it they did. Then, over the past fifty years, these rights were rescinded, piece by piece, in a misguided attempt to ‘protect’ us from ourselves. Papa government and his liberal cousins wanted to make sure we had milk and bread, but they didn’t want us to learn how to raise the cow or grow the wheat. Our overly protective government stepped in to assure that the big bad wolf wouldn’t eat the babies. Absolute rubbish if you ask me,” she said, shaking her head. “In words taken from my great-grandmother’s journal, when the
real
wolves came near their cabin, ‘
ain’t nobody gunna’ eat
this
baby.’”
The room began to applaud amidst laughter.

“If we restore the rights that the founders promised to all Americans, and we do so correctly,
and,
if we do so with increasing public support, this nation will once again be united in purpose and practice. What has been called for over a century the “Eastern Establishment” will probably not join with us. And again, make no mistake: they are formidable opponents. But I firmly believe that we can reverse the geographical formation of this nation we all love, moving from the west to the east this time. The only mountains we will have to cross in re-tracing our ancestors steps are the mounds of ignorance and deception that have grown over the last century.

“If all states do not choose to join us—and I doubt that they will—we will honor their right of self-determination. But I believe this fact with all my heart: within three years, the newly established Republic of Western America will be the majority government on the North American continent, stronger and more confident than ever before, both morally and economically.

“The task before us will not be easy. I believe it can be done and it can be done economically rather than militarily. I believe it
must
be done without force of arms, but with economic measures designed to withdraw financial support from the existing national structure and with the intent to return that financial control, to a large extent, to the individual states, to the lowest political level feasible with good oversight, thereby limiting the new national authority to a very small, defined set of responsibilities. We are going to enact a completely new redistribution of wealth, ladies and gentleman, not from the rich to the poor, but from the government to the people. And what will be the end result if we restore government to the people? The District of Columbia will no longer control the price of corn. Nor will they dictate that your seven-year-old child must learn the benefit of alternative lifestyles—at least, not before they are emotionally ready to make those choices. A one hundred-million-dollar appropriation for a new water treatment plant will no longer contain fifteen million dollars of unrelated earmarks for the favored few. And, no longer will Washington determine the extent to which God—anyone’s view of God—may be displayed in the public square.” Another round of applause greeted Jefferson’s comments.

“If we design this correctly, for the most part, government will be conducted at the lowest level to which adequate resource can be assembled to perform the function. Our new nation will immediately have vast tax resources, at greatly reduced levels, redirected from the USA to the RWA. A flat tax on income, or if we work it right,
no
personal income tax. A national sales tax, evenly applied, and many user-pays options to consider.

“So, let’s move forward, begin our discourse, and see what the future holds for our effort. I suggest that we ask Mr. Rawlings to take  a few moments and describe what he has discovered in his current attempt to develop a constitutional document suitable for the governance of California. I submit that what we discuss here this morning is larger than California. Larger than any of us. Larger, in fact, than any single or collective group of people. Perhaps from Mr. Rawlings we can discover some ideas that can be applied to the new constitution for the Republic of Western America. After that, we can hold an open discussion and take it from there.” Jefferson paused a moment and scanned the room, her smile bright, her head nodding gently. “I admire your courage in convening this convocation. Once publicly acknowledged, many of us will be branded as foolish, rabble-rousers,  and even stupid. Of course,
stupid
will only apply to the conservatives in the room,” Jefferson said, laughing at her own remark. “Thank you all for listening to me ramble this morning. I am encouraged. I am excited. And I am proud to be among you. Now, Mr. Rawlings, are you prepared to speak to us for a few moments? The floor is yours and we’re grateful for your attendance.”

“Tell me, Dan, what do you think of our results this morning?” Joyce Jefferson asked as they sat around a shaded table in the pool area outside the Bellagio. Nicole had joined the group, which included Nevada’s lieutenant governor and Utah’s attorney general.

Dan kept a straight face and reached for a bread roll, pausing to open a small, tinfoil butter packet. “I had thought that the California movement proceeded at lightning speed . . . until today. In four hours, we’ve just formed the basis for an entirely new nation and decided among ourselves to divorce the United States. Quite a morning’s work for thirty-seven people,” he concluded
.

“And what do you think, Mrs. Rawlings?” Jefferson probed.

Nicole looked briefly at Dan and then back at Jefferson. “Governor, it’s a good thing I’m no longer an FBI agent. I’d have to report the possibility of a treasonous action being perpetrated within the confines of the famed Bellagio Casino in Las Vegas. As it is . . .”

Joyce Jefferson nodded. “Quite surprising, isn’t it? I’ve seen a lot in my lifetime, and I, too, find it hard to fathom what we’re proposing. Yet, what are the options? For several decades—at least, during my political career—we’ve incrementally moved down the road of liberalism, some even go so far as to call it socialism. Bit by bit, we haven’t even acknowledged the distance we’ve traveled from the original concept of American freedom—a  people free to pursue their personal interest, to own property, to rise above their station. When Mayor Philips called me a few weeks ago and asked me to attend this gathering, I politely declined. I’ve not been known as a rebel, despite my years of advocacy for one cause or another. Compromise, negotiation, conciliation. Those were the tools of my success these many years. But the mayor asked me to take the long view . . . backwards. He asked me to consider where I was when the Civil Rights Act was passed in 1964. By the way,” she said, a sheepish grin forming on her face, “I tried to tell him I wasn’t born then, but he wouldn’t bite. He then asked me to consider how far minorities have come over the subsequent years. And he asked me to look beyond the success of those minority people, not just my own race, but Hispanics, Native Americans, even women. Then he dropped the bomb on my head. He said, ‘Joyce, how many of these success stories are celebrated if they are
not
in line with liberal thinking? How many black, Hispanic, or female leaders are celebrated by liberals or even female advocacy groups if they espouse conservative views? What is freedom of choice if not the right to oppose a view with which you don’t agree? And why is that opposition—that open debate—not acceptable today as it was originally?’” She paused, taking a drink of her iced tea, and looked away toward the people milling around the pool.

“I thought of Clarence Thomas and wondered why the first black conservative on the Supreme Court was not lauded by his people. And Condolezza Rice as National Security Advisor and then Secretary of State. Why did they not receive their accolade for achievement? Were they not deserving of their honor? Did they not rise above their birth station by their own merit? And is that
not
the reason we believe in the equality of humanity? No,” she said, shaking her head again, “liberals give lip service to minority rights. Minority
success
is lauded only if it conforms to the liberal slant of human rights. They believe in human
entitlement
, not human rights. And that’s why I’m here today. That’s why it’s my intention to pursue this agenda to fruition. It may cost me tenure at the university. It may end my political career. It may end
all
our political careers. But it’s the right thing to do, in my opinion.

“Mr. Rawlings,” Jefferson said, looking straight at Dan, “I would like to ask you to go with me to see President Snow. We’ve worked together before and I owe him a great deal. I want to address this with him before we go public, and, as our group decided this morning, we’re going to go public in early March
so we can place the issue on each states’ ballot for primaries this summer and the general election in November. But before we do that, I owe the president the courtesy of advance notice.”

“I’m flattered, Governor, but what can I add to your presentation?” Dan asked.

“Dan, much of America, for better or worse, recognizes you as representing California in their secession process. But I’d like the four of us to go, gentlemen. Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and California. Then I will feel that we have fulfilled our obligation to the president. I also want to assure him, and perhaps hear from him, that we—and he—will do everything in our power to prevent this from becoming a military affair. We do
not
want insurrection or bloodshed. Can I count on you three gentlemen?”

The small group was silent as they sat around the table for several seconds. Finally, Dan smiled. “I guess I’m sort of pregnant again,” he said. Nicole started to laugh, and Joyce Jefferson and the two men remained silent.

“Mr. Rawlings?” Jefferson asked, confused.

“I’ll explain it later, Governor Jefferson, but for the present, you can count on me to stand by your side in this venture. However, before you proceed down this road, I think you need to hear how California
actually
came to her conclusions about secession. The back story might not be as you’ve been led to believe.” Dan reached for Nicole’s hand and smiled at her, essentially seeking her confirmation that what he was proposing was correct. Seeing her slight nod, he turned again to Jefferson.

“Governor, gentlemen . . . Californians were duped.”

“I don’t pay your firm two million dollars a month so I can leave a message on your
voice
mail. That’s more than I pay my bloodsucking lawyers. For that kind of money, I damn well expect you to be available 24/7.”

John Harford stood behind his massive desk, his eyes boring into the visitor who had just entered his office, the door closing behind him. Harford’s company. Strategic Initiatives, was known in the military world as SI, a multi-national security firm specializing in government contract work around the globe, legal and not so legal. Harford was used to employees, or sub-contractors, which was how he saw Ted Rowley’s PR firm, placing him at the top of their priority list. And from Harford’s perspective, since he paid the biggest fees,
everyone
would put him at the top of their priority list or he’d find someone else.

Forty-two, a West Point graduate, and a self-professed hard-ass, Harford had served as an Army Ranger and a Delta Force operative. He left the Army after eight years when a fellow ring-knocker recruited him to work with the CIA. Within three weeks of his recruitment, two Latin American citizens had died of apparently self-inflicted gunshot wounds. When Harford discovered that his partner on that job, a freelance, contracted “security expert,” had made over three times the money the CIA had paid him, Harford quickly left their service. Thirty-one, ten years out of West Point, he had resigned from both the Army and the CIA.

Recruiting a few of his former associates, Harford branched out, starting his own security firm with primarily bodyguard work initially, then progressing to contract killing, mostly on foreign soil.

A decade later, Harford remained in top physical shape, although his current position did not require “wet” work or even strenuous activity. He now had “people” for black ops. The only killing he did personally was character assassination of politicians who stood in his way.

Within those ten years, Strategic Initiatives had signed contracts with multiple U.S. government agencies and about a dozen foreign governments, ranging from personal protection to outright destabilization of smaller governments with shadow leaders who thought it was time for a change at the top. The bread-and-butter work came from domestic security in malls, sporting arenas, and federal buildings.

SI employed over 10,000 people, with several hundred more black ops staff who were paid off the books. Gross revenues in the previous fiscal year had topped fourteen billion dollars. Security work had been good to him. The prospects since 9/11, with the increased concern for domestic terrorism, had only enhanced his reputation and his revenue.