military in general and of home defense in particular. Every move the Administration made in terms of the military--efforts in Somalia, policies regarding Bosnia, defense cutbacks, gays in the military, base closures, and a hundred other topics--was routinely criticized by Hardcastle, seemingly minutes after a decision was made by the President or his Cabinet, oftentimes even before they made a move.
Hardcastle, who was articulate, handsome as hell, well read, and knowledgeable about every military program, was a formidable opponent.
"I would first like to extend my sincere condolences to the families and colleagues of California Air National Guard Major Linda McKenzie; Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms Special Agents Russo, Foreman, Wickers, Kritchek, and Bowman, and all those who lost a loved one in San Francisco," former Vice President Martindale continued. "It was a tragedy of simply shocking proportions that has outraged this nation.
It is absolutely imperative that Henri Cazaux and all those who were responsible for this insane and ruthless attack be brought to justice immediately.
"But it is also in our best interests to do something to ensure that a tragedy like this never is allowed to happen again in the future," Martindale went on.
"As you all know, Admiral Hardcastle has been very actively speaking out against some of the current Administration's policies regarding the military and national security and defense issues. Up until now, his has been largely a lone voice shouting as it were against the winds of change. Since our defeat in the last election, Admiral Hardcastle has been encouraging me to give up my self-imposed exile from the national debates of the issues of the times and get involved in shaping policies for the future.
Unwisely, I resisted." He half-turned to Ian Hardcastle, gave him a wry smile, and added, "Frankly, Ian, you old sea dog, you sometimes come on as quietly as a tidal wave.
"But last week, in a speech to the National Press Club, Admiral Hardcastle talked about the threat of terrorism here in the United States. After reading the text of his speech, I made a few inquiries into some of the issues he raised and the accuracy of the facts he presented. In short, Admiral Hardcastle knows what he's talking about. He virtually predicted this very incident. That's when I decided to join forces with him, the American Congressional Citizens Alliance, and the Project 2000 Task Force, and accept an invitation by members of Congress to investigate this tragedy and make some observations about the threat that faces us and what we can do to stop it." It was a thinly disguised reason for being here, and Lam Wilkes and most of the members of the national press knew it. The Project 2000 Task Force was a group of right-of-center moderates and conservatives who would in all likelihood form the basis for a major run on the White House in 1996. Formed after the 1992 elections, the American Congressional Citizens Alliance was a mirror image of the Project Task Force, composed of present and past members of Congress, including one-fourth of the U.s. Senate and about one hundred members of the House of Representatives. After its inception, Project 2000 was most noteworthy for who was not in it, namely, the former Vice President, Kevin Martindale, who had always been considered a major front-runner in the next presidential elections.
Obviously, with this surprise appearance as a major player in the Task Force, he was now out of seclusion and back in the White House hunt.
It was a very unexpected and dramatic coming-out for the former Vice President to take on one of the Administration's toughest and most influential personalities. Worse for her, right in the middle of her own press conference.
But such a move was typical of Martindale. A former U.s. Congressman from Minnesota and former mayor of Minneapolis, Martindale's style of politics was full-speed-ahead, smash-face, down-in-the-dirt nasty. It was those traits that had made him such a prized pit bull in dealing with Congress, the liberal left, and others during his two terms as Vice President during the previous Administration. Tough and conservative, he was one of the country's biggest advocates of tougher laws, tougher sentences, the death penalty, and a strong military.
During his term as Vice President, he had been a huge supporter of Admiral Ian Hardcastle's Border Security Force (the Hammerheads) and his disdain for the current Administration had been known practically from the moment the new President was sworn in.
Martindale had little use for a man whom he considered a Southern political snake with a duplicitous and questionable private life. He had even less use for the President's wife, a tough-as-nails political infighter he and every other Republican in the capital referred to derisively as the Steel Magnolia.
Representative Wescott, Senator Heyerdahl, and Representative Leyland all made brief comments after Vice President Martindale.
The usually outspoken Hardcastle declined to make a comment or take any questions, which probably evoked more questions and surprise than if he had spoken. Afterward, Martindale and his group left the podium and encircled FBI Director Wilkes and her staff. "Judge Wilkes, it's a pleasure to see you again," Martindale said, extending a hand.
The press, out of earshot, snapped away as Wilkes took his hand.
"I hope you'll apologize for this intrusion, but the Senate subcommittee wanted to be in on this investigation from the very beginning, so we had little choice." Wilkes tried very hard to continue to maintain her composure.
"I would be happy to brief the subcommittee or any other chamber of Congress on the status of this investigation at any time, Mr. Vice President," Wilkes said crisply, not bothering to acknowledge Martindale's apology. It was obvious to all that she was greatly displeased with her press-conference-turned-circus. "It wasn't necessary for the Senate to appoint a commission; I pledge full cooperation. I'm of course happy to see you and pleased to be working with you, but all this congressional attention to an unfortunate but random act of violence seems rather unusual, Mr. Vice President." "I seem to recall an investigation begun by the Senate judiciary Committee back a few years ago, around 1991," Martindale said, affixing the beautiful Lam Wilkes with a boyish, mischievous hint of a smile, was that produced a lawsuit against the old Border Security Force in a Mexican drug-smuggling-investigation incident. You might be familiar with that case, Judge Wilkes--that lawsuit was filed in your court." Wilkes did indeed remember the Maria Fuentes incident. A young, pregnant female Mexican drug "mule" --not a drug dealer, not a true smuggler, but someone who, most times knowingly, carries drugs-- had swallowed thirty condoms filled with cocaine, almost thirty pounds and two hundred thousand dollars' worth, and had tried to take the drugs into the United States on board a small motorboat, with two young children. She was detected, but could have gone unchallenged had she not panicked and gunned the engine when the Border Security Force's V-22 Sea Lion armed interceptor aircraft flew near her. The chase took two hours, with a small air force of sophisticated aircraft buzzing overhead.
Fuentes ran the boat ran aground near a popular seaside resort at Palmetto Beach, near Mobile, Alabama. The woman grabbed her two kids and tried to flee across the beach on foot.
To the astonishment of about a hundred stunned onlookers, she was finally apprehended in a spectacular assault by the V-22 tilt-rotor aircraft.
But during the arrest, one of the condoms of cocaine inside the woman broke open, poisoning her and creating an instantaneous stillbirth for everyone to watch, including Fuentes' two terrified children.
The public outcry was deafening--and it was all directed against the Hammerheads; then-Vice President Martindale, who was a strong Department of Border Security ally; and then-co-commander of the Border Security Force Admiral Ian Hardcastle. In response, the Senate judiciary Committee unexpectedly launched an investigation, "leaking" its supposedly classified information to the press, which led to a lawsuit filed on behalf of the dead woman's family charging the Hammerheads with an unreasonable pursuit, unreasonable "search and seizure"-- actually charging the Hammerheads with using the V-22 to force the woman to disgorge the drugs--and unreasonable use of force.
Federal judge Lam
Wilkes' court blasted the government, equating the Hammerheads with East German border guards shooting Germans trying to escape over the Berlin Wall.
The government was ordered to pay an incredible ten-milliondollar settlement to the dead woman's family and to some of the onlookers, who incident.
Kevin Martindale and Ian Hardcastle were publicly ridiculed.
Although the verdict was overturned by the U.s.
Supreme Court years later on appeal, the case was regarded as the beginning of the end of the Hammerheads and the Department of Border Security, which was abolished shortly after the new President took the oath of office in "I remember the Fuentes case very well, Mr. Vice President," Wilkes said uneasily. "But the judiciary Committee was completely within its bounds to investigate the incident then. Besides, that was an investigation of a serious incident by the Border Security Force, not of an ongoing FBI criminal investigation. The FBI enjoys a certain immunity from Congressional oversight in the course of an investigation.
"I can't speak for the Senate, Judge Wilkes, but I think the rules have changed--we've been authorized to proceed," Martindale said. He accepted a sealed folder from an aide. It carried the seal of the U.s. Senate on its cover. "And I assure you, we won't interfere with your investigation. We'll just require a briefing--no more than three times per day--with the items stated in this folder included.
Also, we have observers that will accompany some of your investigators.
If you would, please provide us with a list of your senior investigators, and we'll pair an observer up with him or her right away." "I'm sorry, Mr. Vice President, but there's been some mistake," Lam Wilkes interrupted. "I can't allow non-Bureau observers on an investigation. And I wish I had the time to give you special briefings on the status of the case, but I don't. The Bureau gives daily press briefings in Washington." "Our observers are fully trained former FBI, DIA, or CIA investigators, Judge Wilkes," Martindale said. "They know your procedures--our chief Bureau consultant is Jeffrey Peck." Wilkes' eyes grew wide --Peck was the former Bureau deputy director, a longtime FBI veteran, fired from his post as number-two man because of allegations of wrongdoing.
No specific charges were ever brought against him.
Peck had vehemently argued his innocence and never resigned even though the pressure to do so was enormous, but there had to be a housecleaning when the new Administration came in, so Peck was forced out.
The President expended a lot of political capital to fire Peck--now they were going to face him again. Martindale's pleasant smile dimmed a bit as he added, "And I certainly hope the three briefings a day won't be too much of a burden for you--because our charter demands nothing less of you. I'm sure you understand." Wilkes saw the smile diminish and knew that Vice President Martindale wasn't going to spar with her any longer. But she wasn't going to be bullied by any of these outsiders either. "Of course I understand, Mr. Vice President. I'll extend every consideration to you and your people. All I need is confirmation from the president pro term of the Senate." Wilkes knew the current Vice President would put a halt to all this nonsense right away. "We can start as soon as--" "I'm sorry, Judge Wilkes, I should have handed this over earlier," Senator Georgette Heyerdahl said. It was a warrant, signed by the Senate Minority Leader. "As you know, the Vice President is overseas, and he turned the gavel over to the Majority Leader.
Unfortunately, Senator Collingsworth lost an aunt in the explosion in San Francisco airport last night, and he is on emergency leave.
Since the Senate Majority Whip is also out of the country, he allowed the gavel to be transferred to the Senate Minority Leader. Here is his charter for our organization to conduct this investigation." Wilkes accepted the letter but did not look at it--she was very familiar with this type of provision, called a "roundhouse." Officially, the U.s. Senate is never formally adjourned--the gavel, or presidency of the Senate, is always in someone's hand, day and night, while the Senate is "in recess." The president pro term of the Senate (the Vice President of the United States) usually leaves it up to the leader of his party in the Senate to choose who would preside in his stead, but there is a definite "pecking order" in case of emergencies or disaster.
Usually the day-to-day presidency of the Senate is ceremonial in nature, but it also conveys a lot of power to anyone who knows the law and who has the guts to use it. Establishing a charter to a Senate subcommittee to begin some work is one such power of the president pro term, and pulling a roundhouse is a quick way to get it enacted. "The charter is only good for five days or until the full Senate can vote to cancel it," Heyerdahl added, as if trying to instruct Wilkes on the law, "but it's in force right now." "I'm well aware of the law, Senator, thank you," Wilkes interrupted.
Of course, the Vice President, who was away in Tokyo, could snatch the gavel back immediately just by stepping aboard Air Force Two or into the American embassy--both were always considered American territory--and he could yank the group's charter away in a New York minute. But at this stage of the game, with a very public press conference just concluded, it was probably not a wise decision.
Any hesitancy the Vice President or Wilkes might show toward such a distinguished group as the Project 2000 Task Force might appear like a cover-up.
"As I said, I'll be more than happy to cooperate with your subcommittee, Mr. Vice President." Wilkes sighed. No use in trying to fight this anymore, she thought. She had to contact the justice Department and the President right away and let them handle Martindale and Hardcastle. "An office has been set up in one of the SR-71 hangars for our team, and I'm due to receive a situation briefing as soon as I arrive. You're welcome to sit in." "Thank you judge Wilkes," Martindale said, the famous boyish smile returning. He shook hands again with her, making sure that the press photographers captured the moment.
After the impromptu press conference broke up, Hardcastle noticed several Air Force officers standing by a blue sedan nearby.
He walked over to them, extended a hand, and said, "Colonel Vincenti, Colonel Gaspar? I'm Admiral Ian Hardcastle, U.s. Coast Guard, retired." They shook hands, and Hardcastle was introduced to the public affairs officer and Vincenti's area defense counsel.
"I'm sorry for what happened to Major McKenzie. I know what it's like to lose a good crewman." The Air Force officers nodded without saying anything--Hardcastle could easily read the distrust in their eyes.
"Colonel Vincenti, tell me about Henri Cazaux." "Colonel Vincenti has been advised not to speak with anyone else, Admiral," the area defense counsel said.
Hardcastle shot her an angry stare, then turned back to Vincenti.
"I need to know, Colonel," Hardcastle said.
"I'm a part of a Senate investigation into the incident." "Another government investigation," Vincenti scoffed. "Great.
Just what we need." "We're not trying to pin the blame on you, Colonel--I'm trying to pin the blame on where it belongs: on the White House and the Pentagon," Hardcastle said. "I'm trying to get Congress and the President to act seriously about national defense." "I appreciate that, Admiral," the area defense counsel said, "but we're still not going to discuss--" "One question, if that's okay with your ADC," Hardcastle said.
Vincenti did not respond, but he did not object, either. "You were the hunter, Colonel. You had your prey in your sights. Now tell me about Henri Cazaux." At first Vincenti didn't know what to make of this tall, lean, ghostly-looking man. He had seen Hardcastle on all the TV shows, of course, but when Hardcastle said the word "hunter," he heard something else. Yes... yes, Vincenti thought. I know what he's talking about. Al Vincenti knew about the mystique of the hunter.
The hunter, at the moment of unleashing deadly energy against his prey, forms a sort of mind-meld with his quarry. Deer hunters feel it, experience the synergism of minds linked together for a brief instant.
Bombardiers sometimes feel as if they are on the ground, watching their bombs fall on their own heads.
The inexperienced hunter can't handle it and
gets "target fixation" or the "shakes," and the spell is broken and the quarry usually escapes. A young or emotional bombardier that feels it turns to the bottle, gets a Section 8, or gets a.45 and blows himself away.
Vincenti remembered that Hardcastle had once lined up lots of targets in the sights of his awesome V-22 Sea Lion tilt-rotor interceptors, so he definitely knew what it felt like to search, track, find, pursue, attack, and destroy a target--Jesus, he had done it for real.
Hardcastle had fired on many real targets.
Vincenti didn't know how many men he had killed, but he knew he had killed before. He knew what it was like. And so did Vincenti.
"Defiance," Vincenti said. "No fear. Not at any time did I feel fear from Henri Cazaux.
Even in his parachute. He was... happy.
Satisfied. Ready to begin..." "Begin what, Colonel?" "I don't know, Admiral." Vincenti shrugged. "I don't even know what I'm talking about. You asked me what I felt when I thought about Cazaux, and that's the first thing that popped into my head.
Dale Brown - Storming Heaven Page 15
