A House Divided

by Adam Yoshida

  "The vote has been called for and properly seconded. There being no further evidence to be presented by either side and closing statements having been presented, the Clerk will call the roll," the Chief Justice of the United States, presiding over the impeachment of the President as the Constitution required, announced to the Senate.

  In the end, even the impeachment vote fell just a little bit short of expectations. Fifty-five Senators voted to convict the President and remove him from office. A few nervous Republicans, seeing the way things were playing out in the country, had decided that they would rather risk an angry primary challenge than a backlash from the whole electorate and a few Democrats had made the opposite decision, to avoid a primary challenge and risk the anger of the electorate in their red states.

  Now, at last, the moment had come for Henry Warren to take his victory lap. From the beaming smile on his face, you would never have guessed that fifty-five members of the United States Senate had just voted to remove him from his office. He waved to the crowd gathered in the hotel as though he'd just won re-election again.

  "Well," he began, "it's great to have that over with."

  Mark Varro carefully packed the bags into his briefcase, stuffing them in one at a time before methodically running together the wires into a single bundle that connected, in turn, to a cheap cell phone that he'd purchased at a Walmart. One at a time, he examined the wires to make certain that they were tightly wound together and then slowly, lovingly, he slammed the twin pieces of aircraft-grade aluminum shut.

  "Now," the President continued, "we can get on with the business of building a better, kindler, and fairer America for all of our citizens. Together, we can undo the damage done to this nation by decades of reckless deregulation and tax cuts. We can end the damaging and pointless competition and suppress the dog-eat-dog mentality that has ruined the lives of so many of our citizens.

  "The vote of the Congress has confirmed one thing: our system works. The Congress has voted and, its vote having been so concluded, my actions may now stand as confirmed. That being so, I shall tell you that I will continue to exercise all of the powers vested in me, as the head of the executive branch of the government, to the betterment of the people.

  "I tell you now, that the time has come for a fair settlement of our affairs here in America. The work will be long and there will be opposition, but I swear to you today, as I have on every day of my Presidency, that the work will continue no matter what and we will win."

  Terrance Rickover had already switched off the President's speech in disgust.

  "Fifty-five votes to remove him from office and he's talking like it's a fucking victory rally," he said.

  "Well," responded Speaker Halverson, his voice laced with bitterness, "you empowered him to do it. His basic argument, it would seem, is that anything that the Congress can't muster a two-thirds majority to impeach a President over must be basically Constitutional. And I can't say that, watching these proceedings, I disagree with the practicality of that theory at this particular point in time."

  "We had to take the shot when we had it," replied Rickover, tapping his hands on the table.

  "Anyway, this isn't Clinton redux. The President wants to think that it is – but we've had a majority of the United States Congress vote to remove the man from office based upon his willingness to violate the Constitution of the United States and we have no reason to think that he won't continue to do just that. We'll have more chances yet."

  General Dylan Mackenzie sat in his office, stopping periodically to check his watch. He was not a man used to being kept waiting. Finally, the phone on his desk buzzed. He picked it up.

  "General," his personal aide spoke, "your guest is here to see you."

  "Thank you, Captain. Send him in."

  Augustus King walked through the door.

  "Good afternoon, General," he began.

  "Mr. King," he replied, "I know of you, but by reputation only. I don't usually take unsolicited meetings – what man in my position could afford to do so – but I have been counseled by other men, men who I am very inclined to trust, to listen to what you have to say. I hope that they have not led me astray. But I still don't know why I should trust you."

  "General, you don't know this – but I'm the one who provided you with the information about the location of Majid Shahidi."

  "Well then, take a seat," said Mackenzie. King sat.

  "General," he began, "together we are going to save the world."

  President Warren stepped off the stage to the applause of the crowd and was greeted immediately by his staff.

  "That's the stuff, Mr. President!" shouted the exhilarated Chief of Staff. Alexis Jensen walked up to the President and hugged him, with both ignoring all of the looks that this drew from the rest of the Presidential party.

  "Now," said the President to the people huddled around him, "we'll really have the chance to stick it to the bastards. Starting with those unpatriotic corporations that have stashed hundreds of billions of dollars overseas. Money that could be being put to the better use of the American people, but which is only sitting around because some people don't want to pay their taxes. Well, we're going to take care of that."

  The Chief of Staff slapped the President on the back as they walked towards the exit together.

  All over the world men had made careful plans for what was to come next. But, as history has repeatedly shown, there are forces in this universe which have and always shall override the designs of men both great and small.

  Mark Varro knew the path that the President's car would take from the venue where he was speaking. His years spent around the White House gave him supremely intimate knowledge of the processes and capabilities of the Secret Service. Based upon this, he knew that it would be very difficult to fire at the President with success from any considerable distance. He also knew, based upon history, that attempted Presidential assassinations as close range were a dicey thing. They had a success rate of well under 50%.

  What would work was a bomb.

  Now, of course, the most effective way of doing such a thing would be with a suicide bomb vest. That would be very nearly 100% effective. However, that would prevent him from standing before the American people and making the case for this act and for all of his other acts. Varro did not object to martyrdom, if that was what God ultimately had in mind for him, but he fully believed that the American people needed to know why he had chosen to take the actions that he did and, furthermore, that he would be the best person to explain them to them.

  With his full Air Force dress uniform on and his military bearing, he did not attract much attention in the crowd of people gathered around the exit of the hotel where the President's car was waiting. He checked his watch – it was a used Rolex Datejust with a two-toned metal band that he'd bought two days earlier with the rest of his cash. He had, after all, always wanted one.

  When the President emerged, there was a great roar from the crowd, as supporters and ordinary onlookers alike surged forward to get a look at the man who had just escaped impeachment. It was regrettable that there was certain to be collateral damage from his act, but he reasoned, it wasn't as tragic as it might have been – most of the civilians in the area were likely to be supporters of the man, after all, he reasoned.

  Varro pressed forward through the crowd, holding his briefcase in one hand and his cellular phone in the other. Some people, seeing his uniform and assuming that he had some official function, made way. Others had to be shoved aside. When he reached a reasonable range, Varro hurled the briefcase across the rope line, throwing it as far forward towards the Presidential limousine as he could, and then, as he had practiced hundreds of times, he used his other hand to hit the speed dial on his phone.

  It took a few seconds for people to react to the flying object. Secret Service agents grabbed the President and the crowd pulled back in fear – and then nothing happened. People in the crowd turned to face Varro as Secret Service agents rushed
towards him. He looked at his phone. The call had failed. As the first Secret Service agent grabbed him and began to wrestle him to the ground, he managed to hit the redial key, just as the phone was knocked to the ground, shattering on impact. As the agents pushed him the ground, Varro felt the world around him rocked by a massive explosion. He and the agent who had him in a hold both were knocked to the ground and the agent lost his grip. Varro scrambled to his feet and took a look around. Amid the tangle of blood, wreckage, and bodies around him he thought that he recognized what was left of Alexis Jensen, torn in half with her guts spilled out across the ground with her glazed-over eyes staring blankly into eternity. But he could not see the President. Not waiting to get a better look at his handiwork, he turned and simply ran.

  About the Author

  Adam Teiichi Yoshida is a columnist and blogger whose work has been published in multiple forums, including the National Post , Washington Times , Insight Magazine , and The American Thinker . He is the author of "The Blast of War", "A Land War in Asia", and "A Thousand Points of Light", which have been collected as "The Third World War: A Narrative History."