Patriot's Farewell: A Political Thriller Fiction Series (Boston Brahmin Political Thrillers Book 7)

by Bobby Akart

  “But it’s also our home, where Julia and I live with our three beautiful children. Win, who was born on my first inauguration day, is now seven and a half. My darling daughter, Rose, who was actually born here in the White House, is now five going on twenty. And our youngest, Francis, or Frank, is in the throes of the terrible threes, a phrase the First Lady hates for me to use.

  “At night, when I get to tuck in our children and read them a story, I imagine myself doing the same for your children. When our son Win comes up to me and states something profound that he learned in school that day, I visualize you sitting down with your sons and daughters to hear about their activities.

  “Like you, when a crisis arises in the world, or within our country, I fear for my child’s safety just as I fear for yours. As president, my number one job is to protect the American people from harm, both within and without our borders. Unfortunately, there is evil in the world that manifests itself in individual, heinous acts of terror as well as in larger nations that impose their will on its smaller, weaker neighbors.

  “Over the last several days, a threat revealed itself in a faraway part of the world, which may not have impacted your lives directly, but would’ve resulted in the deaths of countless thousands of human beings. I am pleased to report tonight the threat has been thwarted.

  “The nature of relationships between nations has changed over the years. The defense of America and its citizens adapted to this change. As president, I rely heavily upon two groups. First, there are the intelligence analysts who study the activities of nations who some might call bullies. These exceptional, unsung heroes uncover and interpret the threats to America or other nations that we have pledged to protect.

  “Then there are the men and women of our armed forces who are tasked with eliminating these threats. They are the real heroes in my mind. Their job is far more difficult and risky than anything I’ve faced.

  “Make no mistake, our flag doesn’t fly because the wind moves it. It flies with the last breath of each American soldier who dies protecting it. We don’t enjoy our freedoms in America just because they’re written in the Constitution. We are a free people because there are men and women of our military risking their lives to preserve those freedoms.

  “Tonight, our ambassador to China is alive and the people of Taiwan can sleep peacefully because the brave men and women of our military stood up against a bully who was prepared to overrun the much smaller nation.

  “When I took office, our nation was vulnerable to attack. We were at the weakest condition in our nation’s history. Common sense told us that in addition to recovering economically, we had to become strong again to defend ourselves. We once again became the world’s great superpower, which required us to step up to protect nations unable to protect themselves. Today, we kept our promise to Taiwan and sent a clear message to the world that tyranny will not be tolerated.”

  Sarge paused as he looked into the camera. He leaned forward to address the issue of Pacific statehood.

  “I’ve been asked if I have any regrets from my years in office. Well, I do have one. I regret that I was not able to bring California, Hawaii, Oregon, and Washington back into the Union without political rancor and posturing getting in the way.

  “I must admit I was proud of the American people for coming together the way we did following the collapse of our power grid. There was a period of time prior to my presidency when bad decisions were made regarding the rebuilding effort. I believe we set the nation on the course to regaining her former greatness and creating a climate of prosperity for all Americans.

  “That said, there was still the issue of the four states who elected to abandon the United States and chart their own course. I objected to their decision at the time, and as president, I’ve tried to restore the Union to where it was before they left us.

  “I wrote a book while I was still a professor at Harvard titled Choose Freedom or Capitulation—America’s Sovereignty Crisis. The United States, as a sovereign nation, has the authority to govern itself. Therefore, it should not have to capitulate to the will of other nations being imposed upon it.

  “Prior to the collapse, for example, the United Nations, an entity which seemed morally and ethically worthy on its face, used every opportunity to inflict its world view upon America. After the collapse, the UN occupying force intended to force its will upon our citizens, and we stood up against them. At the first opportunity, I withdrew the United States from the UN, a decision that was criticized around the world by some, but praised by those who counted the most—the American people. As I explained when the decision was made, America will never capitulate to the demands of others while on my watch.

  “Well, the same thing applies with respect to bringing the four states back into the Union. I had to remind their political leaders of one simple fact—you left us. In our time of need, a time when America needed to come together as a nation, these four states struck out on their own.

  “Now, like most of you, I was willing to forgive and forget for the sake of the nation and reunite these four to once again create fifty United States. However, our nation should not have to capitulate to the demands of these four states and adopt laws that are not consistent with the nation’s as a whole. California, Oregon, Hawaii, and Washington are welcome to return, but we should not agree to any reunification that forces the nation to compromise its principles.

  “This week Congress has acted on a bill allowing the states to return with all of their demands intact. This bill flies in the face of my stated goals and principles, which are consistent with the majority of the citizens in America. This bill will be presented to me for my signature next week, at which time I will have to make one of those difficult decisions I alluded to before. With prayer and input from all of you, we’ll make it together.

  “Many important decisions in any family, or a nation, for that matter, happen at the dinner table. Tomorrow night, I hope the talking begins between you and your families. Discuss what it means to be an American. Talk about freedom. Tonight, on this Thanksgiving, consider what the Pilgrims sought when they arrived in America on those wooden boats, looking for a home where they would be free.

  “Consider the words of an early Pilgrim, John Winthrop, one of my ancestors, when he described America as a shining city upon a hill. President Ronald Reagan spoke of the shining city during his political life as an America built on solid rocks stronger than oceans, blessed by God and full of people living in peace and prosperity. That’s how he saw it, and that’s how I see our country as well.

  “I’m proud to say I’ve done my part to restore our nation to her former greatness. When I leave the White House in January, I look forward to walking the streets of Boston and meeting as many of you as I can. And to each of you, as we reflect on the incredible accomplishments we achieved together over the last eight years, I’ll say my friends, we did it together. We made our shining city stronger, freer, and with hope for the future.

  “My friends, God bless you, always choose freedom, and God bless the United States of America.”

  Chapter 82

  9:15 p.m.

  The Executive Residence

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  It was quiet when Sarge entered the Executive Residence. He’d already removed his jacket and loosened his tie. This Thanksgiving Day had been a long, stress-filled one. Before bed, Sarge always made it a point to reflect on three positive things that happened in his day. It helped him block out any negativity that might have followed him up the blue-carpeted stairs that marked the transition from working as President of the United States to Sarge, loving husband of Julia and adoring father of three. Saving the ambassador and standing up to China, thus preserving Taiwan’s sovereignty and maintaining his position with the Boston Brahmin, made for a pretty good day in his book.

  Julia emerged from Rose’s bedroom and gently pulled the door shut. She approached him with a smile and hugged him tight. “Incr
edible speech, babe. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, I didn’t write it.”

  “Who did?”

  “Nobody. I just spoke from the heart.”

  Julia took his jacket and pulled his tie off. “How about a drink?”

  “Nah, I wanna look in on the kids. Who’s still awake?”

  Julia laughed as she tossed his jacket on a chair. “Are you kidding? They’re all zonked out, even Win. He fell asleep right after your speech when the talking heads were explaining to all of us what you just said.”

  “Yeah,” said Sarge with a chuckle. “I never quite understood that. I try my best to use proper grammar and words in most people’s vocabulary. Why does the media feel compelled to take my simple statements and explain to the American people what they think I said? It’s beyond me.”

  “Well, it’s almost over,” said Julia as she took him by the hand. “I’ve got a crazy idea. The world seems safe for the moment. Most of the White House staff has scampered off for some form of Thanksgiving festivities. Even the Boston Brahmin have departed the premises. Why don’t you and I crawl into bed and talk.”

  “Talk?” asked Sarge, feigning apprehension. “Talk about what?”

  “You know, talk about stuff,” replied Julia with a smile as she tugged him toward the Executive Bedroom.

  She provided her husband a schoolgirl giggle as she pulled his arm toward the room. Sarge pulled her back to him.

  “Okay, okay, Mrs. Sargent, hang on. Come with me to look in on the kids first. Then we’ll have your talk.”

  Sarge and Julia quietly checked in on their sleeping babes, giving each a kiss on the forehead before heading to the bedroom. Probably the greatest accomplishment of his presidency on a personal level was creating this beautiful family with Julia while being on display for the world to see. Their children were a testament to their achievements as parents.

  Once in the bedroom, Sarge plopped on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and began to remove his shoes. Julia rubbed his shoulders as he spoke.

  “By the way, how have things been going with the historian and his photographer?” asked Sarge. “I’ve barely seen them this week.”

  Julia laughed. “They’ve been spending a lot of time in the East Wing.”

  “Why?”

  “I think it was part of Betty’s plan to keep them out of your hair,” she replied as she playfully mussed Sarge’s.

  “He asked me a question that I’m sure I’ll get a lot in the next several weeks.”

  “Let me guess,” started Julia. “He’s asked me the same one several different ways to see if I’d respond differently, I guess.”

  “Yeah. If given the opportunity, would you do it again?”

  Julia laughed as she slipped out of her clothes and into her robe. “That’s the one.”

  Sarge pulled on his Harvard sweatpants and joined Julia at the side of the bed. “How did you answer it?”

  She was quick to reply, “I finally said, jokingly, of course, what is it about no that you don’t understand?”

  Sarge let out a hearty laugh. “That’s my girl. Here’s the thing. Eight years ago, I was very idealistic about the opportunity the collapse afforded us. While I didn’t agree with my godfather’s methods, the reset allowed us a much-needed do-over.”

  Julia added, “We were all certain that Americans would set aside their petty differences and come together just as the colonists did in the beginning.”

  Sarge sighed. “Americans did after we showed them the way, but I’m afraid I see signs of the country slipping into that old way of thinking.”

  The two sat silently at the edge of the bed, holding hands. They were both quiet, contemplating how the presidency had changed their lives.

  “We’ve done great things, Julia. I feel like we’re turning over the reins with America in a better place than it was before the collapse.”

  “I agree. So how did you answer the biographer’s question?”

  Sarge chuckled and kissed his wife on the cheek before whispering his response.

  “It was simple. I said I wouldn’t wish this job on anybody, including myself.”

  THANK YOU FOR READING PATRIOT’S FAREWELL!

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  READ ON FOR A BONUS EXCERPT from his latest best-selling medical/post-apocalyptic thriller — PANDEMIC: BEGINNINGS, Book One in The Pandemic Series.

  Free Bonus Chapters from PANDEMIC: BEGINNINGS

  Prologue

  You are free to make your choices, but you are not free to choose the consequences.

  Western Africa

  They were dragging Dr. Francois Alexis through a dark, dusty hallway. He’d become confused at how long he’d been held in the tiny cell, without light, and no sustenance. For days, he’d been bound and gagged. A dark hood was pulled over his head, which also made it difficult to breathe. Dr. Alexis had become completely disoriented in a world of blackness and terror.

  Between the beatings and the fitful attempts at sleep, Dr. Alexis was unable to determine whether he’d been held captive for two days or ten. Many events were impossible for him to discern in this starved, sleep-deprived state. What do they want from me?

  All he could remember was leaving the International Medical Research Centre in the former French colony of Gabon on the West Africa coast late Friday night. He stopped to pick up a sandwich and was hit in the back of the neck with a powerful blow, forcing him to the ground. He remembered the black hood being pulled over his head and he was whisked away in a vehicle to an unknown destination. His attackers never uttered a word throughout the abduction.

  The Center for International Medical Research where he worked, known as the CIRMF, was staffed by one hundred sixty-seven scientists and had an annual budget of over five million dollars. Based in Franceville, a city of one hundred thousand in southeast Gabon, the facility boasted a biological research infrastructure, which was rare in Africa, including a biosafety level 4 laboratory. A BSL-4 represented the highest level of biosafety precautions and was designed for working with the world’s most dangerous pathogens.

  Dr. Alexis was one of a dozen scientists focused on emerging infectious diseases like Ebola, Marburg, and the three varieties of plague. The facility’s primatology center was among the largest in the world. Containing five hundred primates, half of which were housed in a jungle enclosure, the CIRMF was ideally suited for testing and researching viruses in their natural hosts.

  With his mind racing, seeking answers as well as anticipating what was happening, Dr. Alexis struggled against his captors while peering through the bottom of the black hood, which continued to obstruct his vision.

  The more he struggled, the harsher he was treated. When the hood was removed, enabling him to see the floor, he stopped his resistance.

  He was forced through an entryway into a brightly lit room, where a variety of power cords and cables spread across the floor. One of his captors yelled at him in Arabic and pushed him into a nondescript wooden chair in the center of the room.

  Another man issued orders, barking the words in a guttural language he couldn’t interpr
et, and the room lit up with artificial light, causing Dr. Alexis to wince despite his limited vision. He adjusted his posture in the chair and two strong arms pulled him upright in the chair. Then his hands were strapped to the back of the chair with zip-ties. His legs were bound in a similar manner, which effectively immobilized him. He’d become one with the chair.

  The room became eerily silent. There was no speaking. No shuffling of feet. Only the faint sound of an internal fan on a computer or other electronic device, which whirred in the background. The anticipation added to Dr. Alexis’s anxiety. His heart was pounding in his chest. He tried to speak, but the gag prevented the words from coming out. What is happening?

  ZING!

  The screeching sound of metal on metal filled the room. The noise was familiar, but Dr. Alexis couldn’t place it in his agitated state of mind. Horror overtook him as he frantically looked from side to side to locate the source of the sound.

  Suddenly, an arm wrapped itself around his forehead and pulled his head back, exposing the pulsating veins in his neck. The young Frenchman felt the cold steel of the blade press against his flesh. He looked down past his nose to catch a glimpse of the weapon. It was a sword, polished chrome glimmering in the light of the room.

  He attempted to voice his protest, but that caused his neck to swell and press closer to the sharp blade. His captor let out a throaty laugh, harsh and raspy, which caused the blade to move from side to side ever so slightly.

  As if in the hands of a surgeon, the sharp blade pierced his skin, slicing slowly across his neck. His captor’s precision was remarkable—not too deep, but enough to produce the desired effect. Warm blood trickled slowly out of the wound, marring the finish on the sword and dripping down onto his partially exposed chest.

  I’m going to die today, Dr. Alexis convinced himself as he closed his eyes. I’m about to become the lead news story on France’s TF-1.