End Times

by P A Duncan

  “Multiple wives isn’t questionable?” Stark asked.

  “Director Stark,” Vejar said, “Caleb was legally married to only one woman, which he consistently pointed out. There’s no federal law against having multiple sex partners. Even if Caleb’s sex practices constituted sodomy or statutory rape, that’s not within the ATF’s jurisdiction.”

  “Which brings me to the First Amendment,” Alexei said. “No matter how outlandish the beliefs of the People of the Eternal Light may seem to us, the Constitution establishes their right to have them.”

  “Good point, Mr. Bukharin,” Vejar said. “By Supreme Court precedent, federal intervention is warranted only when there’s a compelling interest, but when religious practice is involved, the least restrictive alternative should be used.”

  “Surely, the amassing of assault rifles represents a compelling interest?” Stark asked.

  “I reiterate,” Alexei said, “the people at Calvary Locus purchased those weapons legally, and you have not conclusively established Caleb had them altered to full-automatic, the badly burned single example you showed the press notwithstanding. When religion is involved, law enforcement must consider the compelling interest carefully given the First Amendment.”

  Fitzgerald made a movement that caught Mai’s attention, an elbow to Director Steedley’s arm.

  “Well,” said Steedley, “thank you for your personal observations.” He closed his copy of the debrief report. He pushed back from the table as if to rise.

  “I don’t think Mr. Bukharin is finished,” Vejar said.

  Steedley’s jaw twitched as he pulled his chair back to the table, putting some space between himself and Fitzgerald.

  “I’ll move on to unreasonable search and seizure,” Alexei said. “The patriot movement believes the Fourth Amendment holds the same force today as when the Founding Fathers penned it.”

  “I think all of us here understand the concept of probable cause for the issuance of warrants, Mr. Bukharin,” Vejar said.

  Mai hid a smile. Alexei did tend to pontificate on subjects within his expertise.

  “We had our legal counsel and several subject matter experts review a de-identified copy of the ATF warrant. They overwhelmingly concluded it was issued based on biased witnesses who had personal axes to grind with Isaac Caleb. They were the same people who petitioned Texas to ‘do something’ about Caleb, but the state didn’t find sufficient evidence of any state crime. Those witnesses turned to the ATF at a time when it was vulnerable.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Stark asked.

  “You were facing budget hearings in Congress not likely to go your way. Add to that adverse publicity over allegations of excessive force and sexual and racial discrimination and harassment, not to mention the World Trade Center bombing two days before the Calvary Locus raid.”

  His lean face suffused with blood, Stark said, “Oh, I suppose you could have warned us about that.”

  “I didn’t because I wasn’t read in. Late last year my organization did provide solid intelligence concerning targets in major east coast cities, but someone still managed to blow up a truck in the World Trade Center parking garage.”

  Steedley’s face flushed red as well. “But that’s not the point of this briefing, is it?”

  “The point is,” Alexei said, “even if the ATF’s warrant were sound, the execution of it baffles me.”

  “That raid was weeks in the planning,” Stark said.

  Alexei looked at Mai with a raised eyebrow, and she gave him a nod. Alexei turned to Stark. “I’m sure you think it was well-planned, but you lost the critical element of surprise. You know you had, and you went ahead anyway.”

  Fitzgerald slid a note to Steedley, who glanced at it and said, “You have a law enforcement background, Mr. Bukharin?”

  “No. As Mr. Fitzgerald is aware, I have a military background.”

  “Then, you have no context for a law enforcement situation.”

  “I grew up in the former Soviet Union. That’s sufficient context, Director Steedley. Let’s say the Russian Federal Police used armored vehicles to ram holes in a private residence with its own church attached, lobbed countless tear gas grenades, and eighty people died as a result. The United States would be the first to decry such human rights violations. And I will say, your actions at Killeen resembled certain Serbian paramilitary ethnic cleansing operations I’ve witnessed.”

  “Come on,” Steedley said, “you’re comparing us to the Serbs?”

  “Christ, that’s not in this report, is it?” Stark asked, flipping through his copy.

  “For the third time,” Mai said, “all personal opinions are excised from our reports before we provide them.”

  “But here in this room and off the record, I’m expressing a personal opinion,” Alexei said. “Bottom line? The ATF raid constituted excessive force.”

  “The courts will decide that,” Stark said.

  “I hope so.”

  “I’ve had about enough,” Stark said. “What’s the fucking point of this civics lesson?”

  “That reasonable people should have raised the same points we have but before the fact. Innocent lives would have been spared if the ATF had better understood the Fourth Amendment. Rather than a paramilitary raid to reduce the number of guns in Texas—Caleb’s collection was a drop in the bucket by the way—you should concentrate on stopping illegal transactions at the wholesale level. That will gain you status and credibility with the public and with Congress.”

  Alexei looked at Steedley, who blinked. “Director, pass on to your successor the punishment exceeded the possible crimes at Killeen.”

  Fitzgerald started to speak, but Steedley spoke over him. “We didn’t punish anyone, Mr. Bukharin. We would have made sure they received fair trials, but they opted to die.”

  “Spare me the spin you gave the press. I was there. The biggest law enforcement operation in this country’s history was also the biggest fuck-up.”

  Steedley shrugged. “Well, water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t jump to that conclusion too soon. If I were you, I’d fear most the silence of the citizenry who’ve bought your spin, the lack of questioning, again so reminiscent of the country of my birth. That silence, which you encourage with your white-wash reports, further marginalizes people. The silence after Ruby Ridge made it easier for Killeen to happen, and the silence after Killeen will only encourage God knows what.”

  “There is something worse than the silence,” Mai said. “Someone or some group will take it as their patriotic duty to oppose what they perceive as tyranny by any means necessary.”

  She and Alexei let that sink in.

  “I have a major concern,” Steedley said. “What is the disposition of this report.”

  “The only physical copies are in this room,” Mai said. “We keep a digital version on a secure mainframe.”

  “So you can use it against us someday?” Steedley asked.

  Well, of course, Mai wanted to say. Instead, she said, “The President asked for our assistance. We provided it, and we presented the government with a rational, reasonable alternative plan.” Her eyes cut to Fitzgerald and his unending smirk. “A plan someone had decided never to consider. However, we were not the ones who used tanks against citizens of this country.”

  “Mr. Bukharin’s country has used them often enough,” Stark said, smiling in triumph.

  “I’m a U.S. citizen,” Alexei said. Stark squirmed.

  “Look,” Mai said, “we agree Caleb’s arsenal of weapons was probably not in the interest of public safety, but we also believe if you had followed our plan, you wouldn’t have more than eighty martyrs to feed the paranoia of the patriot movement. That’s something each of you has to deal with on your own.”

  Fitzgerald laughed, and Mai remembered how he’d laughed at people burning to death.

  “How would you two suggest we deal with it?” Fitzgerald asked.

  Alexei said, �
��I suggest you suck on the barrel of one of your .380s and take one in the mouth.”

  “Mr. Bukharin, Mr. Fitzgerald,” Vejar said. “Enough. I feel as if I’m on a middle-school playground. Directors, the President and I are satisfied this report is secure.”

  “Well, that’s that, then,” Stark said.

  All Steedley did was sigh.

  By mutual agreement, the debrief to this point had been Alexei’s domain. Now it was Mai’s turn.

  “I have a question,” Mai said.

  “Yes, Ms. Fisher?” Vejar said.

  “When will the FBI surveillance of my house and family cease?”

  Vejar frowned and looked at Steedley, who managed to respond with a straight face.

  “You made me aware of an issue with an erroneous warrant for Mr. Bukharin, but I’m unaware of any surveillance.”

  Mai took a diskette from her jacket pocket. “This is a log of the times and locations of the surveillance commencing from when we first became aware of it. License numbers of the cars used, which indicated they were either government vehicles or rented by the government. Photos of the agents, whom we’ve identified. One of the people surveilled was my thirteen-year-old step-granddaughter.”

  “The, uh, the FBI,” Steedley began, clearly taken aback, “runs many operations. Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

  “No, we’re quite adept at detecting surveillance. It’s no mistake, and it’s no coincidence this began within days of our return from Killeen. On one level, I understand the resentment. Governments often don’t want to hear what we have to say, but that child has no connection to our line of work. You’ve crossed a line of decency.”

  “I assure you, Director Steedley,” Alexei said, “if I see any of your agents near her again, I will assume they are a threat to her safety, and I will deal with them accordingly.”

  “That’s quite enough of that talk, Mr. Bukharin,” Vejar said. She looked at Steedley. “Nothing of this nature will occur again. Your retirement papers may be in, but you serve at the behest of the president. You can be dismissed. Am I clear?”

  “Of course, Madame Attorney General. I’ll take care of it personally.”

  “We observed your agents taking pictures of the child,” Mai said. “I want assurance you have destroyed any photographs and their negatives of her and our residence. If I ever find out any photos have fallen into the hands of people who want to harm Mr. Bukharin or me, I’ll be on your doorstep.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

  “Wouldn’t I?” Mai asked and smiled at him.

  He must have remembered her knee in his groin; he flushed. Fitzgerald stood, hands pressed into white-knuckled fists.

  “I don’t understand why we’re letting these Cold War has-beens dictate to us. She…” He pointed at Mai. “…drew a gun on me.”

  “I’m sure that was coincidence,” Mai said.

  “They both insulted me in front of my command and undermined my authority in an extremely critical tactical situation. And you let them sit here and make demands? Who the fuck’s country is this?”

  “Exactly the question asked by many ordinary citizens,” Mai said, “after seeing military vehicles invade a church. You understand the emotions heightened by the potential for combat. I know I do. However, I’ll apologize for anything inappropriate I may have said or done.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “You and I aren’t too far apart on the issue of illegal firearms, Mr. Fitzgerald. Rather, we disagreed on the methodology. Your case-closing percentage is one of the highest I’ve ever seen, but holding a grudge will be your downfall.”

  “I could care less what you think of me. There’s nothing further for me here. I have new duties requiring my attention. Excuse me.”

  Without waiting for a response from anyone, Fitzgerald stormed from the room, his footsteps heavy until he reached the elevators.

  “New duties?” Mai asked.

  “Uh, yes, well, Mr. Fitzgerald is now an FBI assistant director,” Steedley said.

  “Living up to the government standard, I see,” Mai said.

  Steedley frowned and said, “What do you mean?”

  “Fuck up and move up.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger, Director Steedley. You weren’t there. Fitzgerald entertained no other solution than vengeance, not even at the suggestion of his own executive team. He let vengeance rule him at Ruby Ridge and at Killeen. You’ve rewarded that with a promotion.”

  Steedley sighed and rubbed his face. “For what it’s worth now, and granted that’s not much, I thought your proposal was the better way to go, but Fitzgerald was… Persuasive. Give me a little credit. He’s now where I can keep an eye on him, as can my replacement.”

  “If I dug deep enough, would I find what he had on you?” She knew, of course, but she liked seeing Steedley squirm.

  He rose, not bothering to answer. “Madame Attorney General, I believe you have an appointment with the President. I’ll take my leave as well.”

  Vejar nodded, and that left Stark to look around in confusion before he, too, left.

  Alone with Mai and Alexei, Vejar slouched in her chair. “Don’t ask what he had on me,” she said. “I’d rather not answer. Let me step into the restroom for a moment. My driver will take us to the White House.”

  “Us? The protocol is for Director Nelson to brief heads of state.”

  Vejar smiled and said, “I cleared your participation with Mr. Nelson this morning.”

  31

  Plausible Deniability

  The White House

  Washington, D.C.

  The Oval Office was indeed that shape, though smaller than it seemed on television. President Geoff Randolph stood in the middle of the room when Vejar, Mai, and Alexei entered. Randolph kissed Vejar on the cheek and smiled as she introduced Mai and Alexei. Randolph lingered over Mai’s handshake, his eyes everywhere except her face. However, Mai could see why women found him charming, even magnetic, and she could see he knew it.

  Randolph motioned for them to sit on one of the cream-colored, red-striped sofas. He and Vejar took the twin opposite them. On the coffee table between them sat a silver coffee service, four china cups and saucers, and a platter of small muffins and mini croissants. A steward approached from across the room, poured coffee, and served each some food on matching china brunch plates. Satisfied everyone was happy, he left the office.

  The initial conversation was small talk, and Randolph made a flirty comment about Mai’s accent. “Reminds me of my days at Oxford on a Fulbright Scholarship. Now…” Big smile. “…don’t you try to tell me we were there at the same time.”

  Mai wasn’t sure if he were insulting her or flattering himself.

  “No, Mr. President. I never attended Oxford, but most of my tutors were Oxford dons. When you were there, I was, at most, ten.”

  However, she smiled at him over the rim of her cup, letting him know she was an accomplished flirt as well. He smiled back and set his coffee cup aside. Randolph sat up straight on the sofa, signaling he was ready for the serious subject matter to commence.

  “Mr. Bukharin,” he said, using the typical mispronunciation “Byou-care-rin” Mai knew Alexei found vexing, “I’ve read the report you and Ms. Fisher debriefed to the attorney general here. It seems to you we made a few mistakes.”

  “No operation of that scope ever goes without some mishap, Mr. President,” Alexei said. “You saw we put the blame where it was most deserved, on the individuals who fed you inadequate information for your decision. That, however, is the past. We can’t undo it. What concerns us more is, will your government move to address what will inevitably be the result of this?”

  “Ah, yes, the militias, the patriot movement as you called it.”

  “Yes. Before Ruby Ridge and Killeen, the patriot movement was meaningful only to themselves. Now, they have a rallying cause, one which the mainstream might agree with after watching on tele
vision what happened at Calvary Locus. They have also begun to cooperate, which is unprecedented.”

  “The cooperation, you think that’s the problem.”

  “Yes. Coordinated, they could become a serious resistance movement, even an insurgency. That will attract attention from foreign terrorist organizations, who like to subcontract their actions with local groups. Aside from that, there’s a greater concern.”

  “Which is?’

  “The disgruntled loner who thinks a militia or an activist group is too limiting and who may take it into his or her head to avenge Ruby Ridge and Killeen. It’s called leaderless resistance.”

  “Did you warn the FBI and ATF about this in your debrief?”

  Vejar flushed when Alexei replied, “They weren’t very receptive.”

  “Could this loner be one of the surviving PELs?”

  “Not necessarily. A far more important issue to the patriot movement is gun rights, Mr. President.”

  “There is overwhelming public support for the Brady Bill—”

  “With all due respect, Mr. President,” Mai said, “as noble as the intent of that legislation is, it will only fuel the patriot movement’s fears. I hate to mimic them, but criminals who want guns will get them, by criminal means and without any regard to the 20,000 gun laws already on the books.”

  Alexei chimed in, “Guns caused Ruby Ridge, a rather dubious entrapment. The government went after Isaac Caleb’s guns, an equally dubious warrant.”

  “Are you suggesting we do nothing about gun violence?”

  “No,” Mai said. “We made our recommendations to the ATF concerning increased surveillance of gun shows and enforcing existing laws. What we’re saying is you need to be prepared for an extreme reaction from the fringe right-wing in the patriot movement. We can help you prepare for that.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll need intelligence from a neutral source, one not hampered by memoranda of agreement with local law enforcement.”