by Jerry Ahern
Picking up a note card, Michael said, “These are her words: ‘Citizens of New Germany. My heart hurts along with you as I wait for word about my husband, Wolfgang, and our many friends and colleagues at the Presidential residence. As you know, I normally leave political issues to my husband. Unfortunately, our government must now struggle to reform and... where necessary, replace a majority of our legislators and leaders. Now, more than ever... we must remain strong. We must remain united and we must pray that somehow, under the debris, there are survivors. Stay strong my people, I will be returning to my adopted land as soon as possible. It is my place to stand with you. You are in my prayers.’”
Michael laid down the card and said, “The terror events of the past hours, in New Germany, have shown some problems. While it has been proven repeatedly that the authorities have been very good, most of the time, at stopping large and well organized groups of terrorists, our abilities to prevent a self-motivated, small terrorist group are severely hampered. We recognize that has to be improved for us to continue to enjoy a relatively free society. At the same time, I doubt any citizen is interested in trading freedom for complete safety... or actually, the illusion of safety.
“Laws and regulations, and even responsible humanity, have no effect on those who have decided to become terrorists. These people are dedicated not to the rule of law, not to the common good, but to their own particular and peculiar dogmas. No country could have prevented this small marginally skilled group of Neo-Nazi fanatics from attacking the governmental structure of New Germany.
“While as noble, unselfish and courageous as the responding units were, they were nothing more than a reactive force. They were not, and are not, a preventive force. Our first responders have always, and will always, arrive too late. They arrive after the fact.
“These points have not been challenged by anyone that has studied the reality of these events. The mere fact that many of the leaders of the free world refuse to actually name the enemy, labeling them as ‘outlaws, ’ ‘nationalists’ or ‘extremists,’ does nothing more than promote the continued slaughter of innocent citizens and non-combatants. That means simply it will continue until we do submit to the terrorists’ unrealistic and changing goals, or die. We will not do either.”
Michael looked up and said, “I will now open it up for questions.”
Bill Nolan, from DOT Television said, “Mr. President, one report I’ve read suggests assigning a counter-terrorist operator to each likely target in our own government. Is that being considered?”
Michael said, “First of all, while our security condition has been raised, we have no indication of a potential attack here. Bill, a plan like that would be as ineffective as it is impossible. No nation has those kinds of resources, the sheer numbers it would require. It is not practical and no, it is not being considered.”
“Follow up then, Mr. President,” Nolan said. “What is being considered?”
Michael pondered the question before answering. “Coordinated preventative steps combined with personal responsibility. That is the only true alternative. But it is an alternative that frightens many world leaders whose vocabulary does not include the words ‘Lone Wolf Terrorist.’”
Michael looked directly at the camera. “Therefore, the phrase ‘Lone Wolf Counter-Terrorist’ must be placed in our vocabularies.”
Agnes Briggs, from Honolulu’s largest newspaper shouted, “What does that term mean?”
Michael turned to her and smiled. “Agnes, this will not be popular with my critics but let me explain. At any terror event, unfortunately there have always been plenty of everyday ‘people.’ Unfortunately, the majority end up as faceless victims, remembered only by their families and otherwise lost to the dusty annals of historical accounts.”
“But, there have always been a few whose initial reaction was not to cower and to shrink from the face of evil. They act and act bravely. It is possible their initial reactions are based on nothing more than simple anger; I don’t know. But I do know that when they are unarmed because of legal restrictions or social norms or political correctness... they are without any effective means to act, and they are forced into victimhood.”
“Today we live in dangerous times, as exemplified by what happened in New Germany. These dangerous times call for dangerous measures. If fact, they scream for them and the scream of humanity must be louder than the screams of those we lost today.”
“That sound like vigilantism,” someone hollered from the back of the room.
“Maybe... maybe it does,” Michael sighed, “but right now I believe we must change our own tactics. It is time for every man or woman outraged by these events to take steps on their own... to become their own rescuer... their own counter-terrorist. The skills and abilities of these self-motivated killers are not nearly as high as the uninformed commentators of our news agencies would have us believe. Have the terrorists been effective? Partially.
“Do they know how to attack and destroy? Absolutely, but they are neither invulnerable nor all powerful. Witness how many photographs were taken, not only today, but each time there has been a terrorist or active shooter situation. The photos taken during this brutal attack are being analyzed as we speak and will, I am confident, identify these animals and lead to their arrests and ultimate punishment.”
Nolan raised his hand again. “Do we know why the attack occurred? Did they have demands that were known?”
Michael nodded. “We have read their published manifesto and I assure you, this incident will not be the last. Therefore, I recommend that every capable man and woman within the sound of my voice arm themselves no matter what country they are in, obtain a weapon and the training necessary to be responsible and safe with that weapon and carry that weapon with them every single place they go. Anywhere a Lone Wolf, Home-Grown Terrorist may strike; a Home-Grown Counter-Terrorist must be ready.”
“Mr. President, it sounds like you want to see a return to the old west,” Agnes said, her glasses down low on her nose, her eyes wide above them in her haughty “signature look.”
Michael addressed her head on. “Agnes, what I am saying is enough is enough. I find it foolish to waste time to define or understand why a shark attacks. It attacks because it is a shark. We need to develop the mindset and attitude to kill the terrorists, wherever and whenever they appear. That is the day this tide will begin to change. Too long we have lived in fear of the terrorists—the terrorists must learn to fear US. As we fear not knowing when or where the terrorists will strike; let the terrorists fear our abilities to strike back, harder and swifter than we ever have.”
“Thank you everyone, please hold your children extra close tonight and send a prayer for our allies, our brothers and sisters in New Germany. Thank you.”
Michael turned and walked out of the room. It was getting late and he still had a lot to do.
Chapter Forty-Five
Tuviah Friedman opened the door. “Mr. Shaw, it is a pleasure to meet you, even if the circumstances could be better.”
Shaw noticed they were back to using surnames and that tickled him, he wasn’t in a mood for cordiality. “Mr. Friedman, let’s get down to business. We Americans don’t take kindly to folks that come in and attempt to kidnap our citizens at gunpoint. What the hell is going on?”
“A Neo-Nazi threat we believed to be directed at Paul Rubenstein and led by Otto Croenberg. I believe now our theory was incorrect in that Mr. Rubenstein was not to be the target and Croenberg was not the perpetrator. The problem is we have intelligence that shows an increase of ‘chatter’ and activity on the parts of operatives belonging to a man named Peter Vale.”
“I can tell you that Croenberg is definitely not involved,” Shaw said. “In fact, it seems you and he are working on the same problem; the same threat... just two different tracks. So if Paul is not the target, who the hell is?”
Friedman hung his head, looked up and said, sadly, “I don’t know. I think it may be practical to speak with C
roenberg. It is possible each of us has only partial information that when put together will present a whole picture. You are aware of this person called Peter Vale? Vale is an avowed Neo-Nazi... We believe the threat is real and coming soon.”
“I know of him.”
“We suspected there was a connection between him and Otto Croenberg,” Friedman said.
Shaw shook his head. “As I said, I suspect the only connection is that they both are, and have been, associated with the Neo-Nazi movement. However, I can tell you that Croenberg has tried to eliminate their influence in the Democratic Republic of Germany. That is what caused him so many problems.”
Friedman puffed his Meerschaum. “You are saying that was the rationale behind his leaving office?”
“Also the rationale behind his faked suicide,” Shaw said. “As soon as he was able, he tried to establish contact with Rubenstein and warn the Rourkes about Vale. We know that Vale has been in and out of Hawaii several times in the recent past. We suspect he was involved with the attack in New Germany and has now returned to the DRG.”
“If accurate, that would align with information,” said Friedman. “It is... I suppose possible that the intent of Croenberg’s contact with Rubenstein was misinterpreted. However, I have it on good authority that Vale is returning to Hawaii; he may already be here. Could it be that he is working behind the scenes for a similar attack on the American government?”
Shaw frowned. “If he is... he is going to be met with a lot more resistance than he had in New Germany. President Mann had no intelligence that a new threat was possible. We do.” Shaw stood. “If you will excuse me, I believe I should contact my people. I don’t want a repeat of the attack at Bellevue.”
Chapter Forty-Six
General Sullivan sat across from President Rourke. Sullivan wanted and had proposed a strong force be sent to New Germany to establish control; the President had disagreed. “Their recovery is their challenge to accomplish,” Michael said. “The government is in chaos and there has been no request received, as yet. I will, however, discuss your suggestion with my mother.”
Sullivan pushed, just a little. “But Sir, if there is no government, it could be perceived as a big help and assistance.”
Michael smiled. “Remember General, right now the First Lady of New Germany is right here. She is the only recognized member of that government, and she assured me the anti-government faction that has so long opposed any move my step-father favored, would call such a force an invasion force. No, we will offer aid and assistance but not a large or recognizable military presence.”
“Would you authorize advisors?” Sullivan asked.
“Yes.”
“What about logistical support for medical services and supplies?”
Michael nodded. “Absolutely, I have already advised the Secretary of the Navy to send a carrier group to South America.”
Sullivan nodded. “Would it be permissible to include the 442nd?”
Michael thought for a moment. “You mean the Dog Soldiers?”
Sullivan nodded.
Michael stood up and went to the window and stared out into the night. “Hmmm,” Michael said, before turning back to the General. “Frank, I see what you’re trying to do.” Sullivan started to object but Michael silenced him with a hand wave. “Actually, I think this has some pretty good points.
Michael smiled. “You know my dad told me a story about a friend he had when he was young, someone that thought outside the box. The kid was about eighteen and living back home and he bought a horse from a farmer for a hundred dollars. The farmer agreed to deliver the horse the next day. But the next day the farmer drove up and said, ‘Sorry son, but I have some bad news... the horse died.’”
“The guy replied, ‘Well, then just give me my money back.’”
“The farmer said, ‘Can’t do that. I went and spent it already.’”
“The guy said, ‘Ok, then, just bring me the dead horse.’”
“The farmer asked, ‘What ya gonna do with him?’”
“The guy said, ‘I’m going to raffle him off.’”
“The farmer said, ‘You can’t raffle off a dead horse!’”
“The guy said, ‘Yes, I can. Watch me. I just won’t tell anybody he’s dead.’”
“A month went by and when the farmer met up with the young man again, he asked, ‘What happened with that dead horse?’”
“The guy smiled and told the farmer, ‘I raffled him off. I sold five hundred tickets at two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898.’”
“The farmer said, ‘Didn’t anyone complain?’”
“‘Sure, but just the guy who won. So I gave him his two dollars back.’ You’re thinking outside that box, the Dog Soldiers aren’t a substantial force but they are awfully good. Might not be a bad idea to have such a strike force nearby, should it be needed.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, Sir. Between SEALS and Special Operators already assigned to the carrier...”
Michael smirked, “I can hear my critics now, ‘Have you heard the latest dumb stunt Rourke has pulled? He has sent an aircraft carrier to South America to help the bombing victims. What does he intend to do, bomb them?’”
Sullivan said, “Sir, I have your answer to that kind of criticism. Each of our carriers has a minimum of three hospitals on board that can treat several hundred people. Being nuclear powered they can supply free emergency electrical power to shore facilities. They have an average of at least three cafeterias with the capacity to feed 3,000 people, three meals a day.
“They can produce several thousand gallons of fresh water from sea water each day. They carry half a dozen helicopters for use in transporting victims and injured to and from their flight deck. We have eleven such ships; how many does the rest of the world have?”
“Do it then, General, I like the way you think,” Michael said and shook Sullivan’s hand. “Just remember, General, most of this conversation will remain confidential.”
“Roger that, Mr. President,” Sullivan said with a smile as he was leaving. “Roger that.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
A Marine orderly knocked on Michael’s office door. “Come in.”
The Lance Corporal marched to the President’s desk and saluted. “Sir, you need to see this.”
Michael returned the salute and took the report; a generalized break down in New Germany had begun. The report identified that protesters had seized several buildings, including the Ministry of Finance. They were demanding the release of dozens of protesters already in custody after clashes with police, and to stop further detentions.
Protestors were in control of several bank offices and when police reinforcements arrived, they set about dispersing the protesters and arresting another dozen or so. So far, about one hundred people had died; some fatally shot in the clashes, some by other means. The protests continued, fueling fears of further escalation. The ring leaders were blaming the deaths of “innocent civilians” on authorities, but authorities disputed that, saying the wounds were not caused by police weapons.
The protests had increased in violence again last night as the struggling government passed a curfew and began the process for new elections. It was a mob mentality phenomenon. Someone, believed to be the Neo-Nazi faction responsible for the initial attack, was manipulating the process. Mobs were much more easily manipulated than individuals.
Michael stood and walked to his window that faced out onto the South Lawn. Okay, he thought. It begins, now what I have to do is figure out how to contain it... if it can be contained. If not, I have to figure out how to stop it... if it can be stopped. If neither is an option, I have to figure out how to kill or capture those responsible for this mayhem.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. And whatever I do has to be done without dragging my country, or the world, back to the brink of a world war. No pressure there...
Chapter Forty-Eight
Shaw had called Beaux Delys with an invitatio
n for supper and drinks. “I need a break and I need a buddy, got some time?”
“Absolutely, where do you want to meet?” They settled on a place Shaw was familiar with, Papa Joseph’s Pizzeria. Delys had almost not recognized Shaw as he walked through the door. He looked like hell.
The waiter took their order and brought a pitcher of beer for them to nurse while the pizzas cooked. “What’s the matter, Tim? You don’t look well.” Shaw sat there; he looked tired, and thoughtful, almost pensive.
Shaw looked up. “Beaux, I’m tired. That’s all. The stuff with the kids really hit me, now we have the mess in New Germany. I’m tired and I’m starting to forget things. There’s so much... we have so many things hitting us. I feel sometimes like I’m having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. When my memory slips, it feels like... sometimes I think I’ve forgotten ‘this’ before. Maybe I’m too old for this stuff.” Wistfully, Shaw continued, “I’m tired and I’m frustrated; you know I’m not the most patient person in the world.”
Delys nodded and said, “I can concur with that Tim.”
“Shucks,” Shaw said. “When I was little, my grandfather used to make me stand in a closet for five minutes without moving. He called it elevator practice and said it would teach me patience. It didn’t work.”
Delys leaned over and placed his hand on Shaw’s shoulder. “The President and the country need you Tim, right now more than ever.” Delys saw he needed to break Shaw’s mood. He said, “Tim, is it true that, here in Hawaii, it only takes one word to say ‘I Love You?’”
Shaw looked at Delys and smiled. “Yeah, but you can also say it with a pineapple and a twenty.” Delys smiled, it had worked. Wistfully, Shaw smiled back and said, “This getting old crap is coming at a really bad time! I thought about retiring and living off of my savings. Wasn’t sure what I was gonna do that second week.”
