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Foreign Enemies and Traitors

Page 81

by Matthew Bracken

Tambor shook his head and scowled. “And our military, oh my God! It’s just hopeless. It’s practically all right-wing religious fanatics. The way it exists today, it’ll always pose a threat to world peace. But if I’m elected, I’ll clip their wings. If their funding is cut off, they’ll wither and die on the vine. The fanciest high-tech jet bombers and submarines won’t last for long with no money to maintain them. If the fall of the Soviet Union can teach us anything, it’s how rapidly a modern military will decay and become useless once its budget is cut to the bone. And if the economy collapses, well, that will achieve the same purpose, if nothing else.”

  The unseen Robert said, “The greatest danger to social progress will always come from the military. Remember the lesson of Chile, and Salvador Allende. Beware the military.”

  “Of course,” agreed Tambor. “That’s why the military has to be fully integrated into the U.N.’s peacekeeping structure, step by step. Then what remains of the American military has to be chopped into a thousand pieces and put under U.N. control. Only then will the world be safe from the American military. Only then will our military stop being a tool of capitalist oppresssion and imperialism.”

  “But Jamal, the American officer corps is just riddled with the worst of the worst fascists and reactionaries. I’ve seen polls; something like eighty percent of them describe themselves as cultural conservatives. The officer corps has to be torn out by the roots and replaced with a new generation of leadership. But that won’t be easy. The problem with the military is that it’s like a goddamn religious cult—but instead of the cross, they worship the Constitution.”

  “It’s the oath they take,” said Tambor. “I’ve given this a great deal of study. The military is all about following orders, and defending the Constitution is the very first order they take, on day one. They even raise their right hands and swear to God to defend it. They’re like lemmings, they’re like robots. They don’t think, they just follow orders.”

  “And all for a two-hundred-year-old piece of paper, written by slave-owning white racists. It’s just amazing. They worship that goddamn piece of paper.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Tambor. “The military is a cult, and they worship that piece of paper. But I’ve got a solution. I’ve cracked the code. I’ve figured it out.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We have to give them a new piece of paper to worship. A new constitution.”

  “Easier said than done, my friend.”

  “Maybe, and maybe not,” said Tambor. “If the economy gets much worse, people will become desperate. They’ll be demanding new solutions, even radical solutions. That’s when we’ll be able to build a new grass roots movement to demand an Article Five constitutional convention. Actually…it’s already under way. And trust me, when you have the Kosimos Foundation’s money behind you, you can build some incredible grass roots! If we have a convention, we can finally fix the Constitution. We can get rid of those right-wing anachronisms that have been holding us back for so long.”

  “Like that goddamned Second Amendment,” Robert growled. “As long as America is an armed camp, we can never advance to the next level of social progress. As long as the diehard reactionaries are armed to the teeth, they’ll always present a fatal danger to our side.”

  “Exactly. So we need to create a new constitution, one that enshrines the principles of social justice and equality, but with the…mistakes removed. Mistakes like the Second Amendment, and the Tenth. Then those little Nazis in the military will still have their piece of paper to worship, and we can get on with building our new social order. And once we purge the old military dinosaurs, the new officers can be selected for their dedication to the principles of social justice. It might take a few years, but we can transform the military from a force of oppression into a force that serves the cause of justice. Global social justice. Our hope for the future can be achieved—but it all depends on calling a new constitutional convention. That’s the key.”

  “We just need to give those little Eichmanns in the military a new constitution to worship,” said Robert.

  “That’s it. Then a whole new generation of military robots will worship the new constitution, just as the old generation worships the old constitution today. After all, it’s just a piece of paper. Those fools only want to follow orders, and to be led. Thinking hurts their heads. If we give them a new constitution, we can lead them anywhere we want. And once we control the minds of the military, the revolution can never be turned back. But it all depends on writing a new constitution, and to do that, we need a constitutional convention. And with the Kosimos Foundation backing a convention behind the scenes, it can happen. It will happen. Trust me: it will happen.”

  There was a pause before Robert spoke again, his voice lower and almost cracking. “Jamal…I bow before you. The student has surpassed the teacher. You’re brilliant. Absolutely, diabolically brilliant.”

  “Thank you. I learned from the best. Gramsci, Guevara, Alinsky, Kosimos…and you.”

  ****

  Across America and around the world, hundreds of millions of people were watching Jamal Tambor’s innermost secrets and true beliefs. In just a few select locations, another video broadcast was being watched with even more careful attention. The “Marine-cam” video feed from the Laurel Lodge conference room was being watched at Camp David’s own security center, in Quantico, Virginia, at Marine Corps Headquarters, and at several locations within the Pentagon. Somebody at one of those places figured out that the Emergency Broadcast System had been hijacked. This person either knew or surmised that it was being sent from Site R at Raven Rock Mountain, the military’s Alternate Joint Communications Center. No one would ever discover who among the dozens of officers and NCOs watching the live “Marine-cam” video from the conference room took the next step and surreptitiously redirected it back to Site R.

  ****

  Even with the knife against his throat, the president finally called out, “Cut off the TV! That’s nothing but lies and propaganda!”

  “Lies and propaganda?” asked Carson, loud enough to be heard in the entire conference room. “Lies and propaganda are your specialty! You just hate that the American people are finally being shown the truth. Major Acorzado, take a look at that operation plan on the table. Operation Buffalo Jump is the invasion of the American Northwest by foreign armies, operating with the blessing of American traitors—and all at the president’s direction! That’s what this conference is about today. We’re here to plan how these foreigners are going to carve up the Northwest, after foreign armies have conquered it. That’s Operation Buffalo Jump. And if that’s not treason, then what is?”

  Tambor said to Major Acorzado, “Soldier, I’m ordering you to turn this broadcast off! That’s a direct order from your commander-in-chief. That film is a fake; it’s nothing but special effects!”

  “And is Operation Buffalo Jump all fake too?” Boone asked. “Are these foreign diplomats and generals here today just actors?”

  Major Acorzado, holding his pistol in one hand, advanced across the conference room to within a few yards of the president, Carson and Boone. Then he said, “Let it play. I want to watch it. Anyway, it’s on every channel, everywhere. The whole world is watching it. Turning it off in this room won’t turn it off in the rest of the country. Why shouldn’t we see what the rest of the world is seeing?” At that moment, United States Marine Corps Major Rafael Pascal Acorzado became the single most important member of the U.S. military.

  Until a new face appeared on millions of televisions, including the two giant side-by-side screens in the Laurel Lodge conference room. A military officer was seen from the waist up, sitting at a desk with a map of the United States behind him. The map was slightly out of focus, so that the general appeared in sharp relief. He was a man in his fifties, with short gray-black hair, and hazel eyes. He was wearing a blue Army uniform jacket, with three stars on each shoulder. Even Major Acorzado and his troops turned to steal glances at the lates
t person to appear on television in this hour of nonstop surprises.

  ****

  “Good Morning. I’m Lieutenant General Lucian Armstead, the commanding general of NORTHCOM. That’s the Army command responsible for assisting with homeland security. With the help of some very brave Americans, today we’ve been able to broadcast the truth about what’s been happening in the United States. Excuse me if my words are not carefully crafted. I’m not a politician, I have not had time to write them down, and I don’t have a teleprompter. I can only speak from my heart.

  “I’m broadcasting today from a military communications facility just a few miles from Camp David, Maryland. I was scheduled to be at a conference that is occurring at Camp David at this very time. The purpose of this conference is to present a plan called Operation Buffalo Jump to a group of foreign diplomats and military officers.” General Armstead then held up his copy of the red and white Top Secret CONPLAN binder. “This is the plan for the invasion of the American Northwest, tentatively scheduled for this summer. It’s supposed to be a joint and combined military operation, meaning that foreign military formations will be partaking. In fact, foreign military divisions will be spearheading this operation.

  “And why would they agree to this? For trade concessions, and agreements on very favorable terms for the exploitation of the energy, mineral, and agricultural resources of the Northwest. The president is virtually selling off parts of the United States to the highest bidder to pay our national debts, and I refuse to be a part of it. I’d rather have our nation default on those debts and start all over from nothing, than see America torn apart and carried off by foreign jackals. Under this plan, both United States and foreign national armed forces will be under effective United Nations control—on American soil! My fellow Americans, this Operation Buffalo Jump is the smoking gun of treason. This plan will be made available to all of the media and on the internet in just a few minutes.” Armstead held up the binder again, and set it back down in front of him.

  “My fellow American citizens, I can’t pretend to know all of the answers, or even to have any solutions. I’m a military man, not a politician. But I know that treason must be opposed, even treason at the very highest levels. Every soldier and law enforcement officer has sworn a sacred oath to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. And I assure you, those are not just hollow words. Not to me, and not to millions of presently serving and former soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines and police officers. We will defend the Constitution!

  “Now, I don’t have the answers or the solutions to America’s many grave problems, but I know that any solutions must be American solutions. The answer to America’s deep problems can’t be found by bringing foreign military forces into the United States, as they have already been brought into Tennessee and Kentucky.

  “The answers, if they can be found at all, can only be found through an honest and sincere adherence to the Constitution. That means the original Constitution, not the false so-called ‘new constitution’ illegally concocted in Philadelphia. I’m not a constitutional scholar, but I can read plain English, and I know that valid ratifying conventions were not held in all of the states that allegedly approved the so-called new constitution. And I further do know this: the president and his administration are so clearly and obviously tainted by treason against the Constitution they swore to defend that they cannot serve any longer. I for one will neither follow them nor obey their orders from this time forward.

  “We may still fail today in our attempt to restore the true Costitution. We may not be joined by my brothers- and sisters-in-arms in resisting treason and the forces of tyranny. But I will rest peacefully now, knowing that I have at least presented the truth to you. Whether we succeed or fail at this endeavor, we must always do our duty as we understand it. And I understand that no man, not even the president of the United States, is above obeying the Constitution. So today, I am asking that the president be placed under arrest and charged with treason, according to Article Two, Section Four and Article Three, Section Three of our Constitution. Our one, true, original Constitution.” The general held up a pocket Constitution booklet, opened to the page showing those sections highlighted in yellow.

  “I am now ordering the following: All foreign contract soldiers in the United States must return any weapons to their armories, and report to their barracks and remain there, pending repatriation to their home countries after an appropriate investigation. After today, any foreign mercenaries discovered armed and outside their barracks will be considered hostile and will be dealt with as such. This mandate is to include soldiers belonging to the so-called North American Legion, which is hereby dissolved, decommissioned and disestablished. Also: any United States citizens who should attempt to hinder or interfere with these orders shall be arrested and tried for the crime of treason.

  “Now I am going to show and describe each page of the Operation Buffalo Jump concept of operations plan, so that you will be able to save them for later analysis, in the event that this broadcast is interrupted. This will take only a few minutes, and then we will begin at the top of the next hour by rebroadcasting the videos and pictures of the massacre in Mannville, Tennessee, the eyewitness deposition, and the videotape of citizen Jamal Tambor. We will broadcast continuously for as long as we can.” Then General Armstead looked off-camera to his right. “What? Excuse me? Now I’m being informed that we are receiving a live video feed from inside Camp David, so we’ll go to that next. You will be seeing this live, at the same time that I’m seeing it for the first time.”

  ****

  USMC Major Acorzado advanced to within a yard of the president and slowly holstered his pistol. “Major Paxton, would you please remove your knife from this…person’s throat, and turn him around for me?”

  Boone met Acorzado’s gaze, slowly moved the black ceramic blade several inches away from Tambor’s jugular vein, and then lowered his right arm to his side.

  Major Acorzado said, “Gunny Diller, do you have your handcuffs?”

  From behind him, a Marine in full combat gear said, “Aye-aye sir, that’s affirmative.”

  Next he addressed Phil Carson. “General, will you please remove the detonating cord from this person’s neck, and very carefully disarm the firing device?”

  For Boone and Carson, this was the moment of truth. They glanced at the two enormous television screens and saw that the scene inside the conference room was now somehow being rebroadcast live from Raven Rock. No matter what happened next, millions of people would be witnesses to it. Once the knife and the “detonating cord” were removed from the president, he would lose his hostage value, and they would lose their protection. Within thirty feet of them were dozens of Marine Corps and Secret Service sharpshooters. Any of them could hit a coin at fifty yards with a rifle, or at twenty yards with a pistol. Boone and Carson were only twenty feet away. Carson slowly raised the cell phone and said, “It’s not detcord, or a firing device. It’s just a computer cable and a regular phone.” He smiled. “We were bluffing.” He lifted the three green coils over Tambor’s head and let them trail down to the floor. Boone Vikersun, however, kept his left arm across the president’s chest, still clamping him tightly to him.

  With the blade’s edge away from his throat and the threat of his head exploding removed, President Tambor said, “Well done, soldier. Well done! Now arrest these terrorists. Arrest them!”

  Major Rafael Acorzado stared at Tambor from beneath his helmet, slowly shook his head, and said, “First, I’m not a soldier, I’m a Marine. How long have you been coming here anyway? And second—no. No, I’m not arresting them. I’m arresting you.” More Marines in battle dress streamed into the conference room with rifles at port arms, at least a full platoon. They formed a line along the wall in front of the two televisions. The president was incredulous. “What? Has the entire world gone insane? This is mutiny! This is treason! You have to obey my orders—I’m the president of the United States! I’m you
r commander-in-chief!”

  “Not anymore,” said Major Acorzado. “Not after today.”

  The president looked to his two personal bodyguards. “Jack, Phil, who’s in charge of the Secret Service here at Camp David? Make these soldiers put down their guns. They’re disobeying my orders, and I’m the president!”

  But no Secret Service agents came forward to attempt to carry out President Jamal Tambor’s last orders. Not in the face of more than thirty combat-tested and SWAT-trained United States Marines. The president’s own pair of personal bodyguards looked down sheepishly and holstered their pistols beneath their suit jackets.

  The president wasn’t finished. “Think very carefully about what you all are doing. This is mutiny! You will all be held to account! You have to obey me! I’m giving you a direct order, and you have to obey me!”

  “Not anymore,” repeated Major Acorzado. “We’re not obeying you anymore. Jamal Tambor, you’re under arrest.”

  “This is ridiculous! This is absurd! On what charge?”

  “On the charge of high treason. Now turn around and place your hands together. Gunny Diller: handcuff the prisoner.”

  He wouldn’t turn on his own, so Boone Vikersun spun Jamal Tambor around, gripped him by both shoulders, and stared down into his face while the cuffs were being applied. From the side, Phil Carson said, “I hope you get justice. That’s all I hope—that you get justice.”

  Then Tambor was snapped back around by several Marines. While he was being pulled out of the conference room, Tambor had one more try in him. “Why are you doing this? I’m your president; I’m your commander-in-chief. Why are you doing this?”

  Gunnery Sergeant Diller, who was hauling him along by the lapel of his suit jacket, said, “Well Mr. Ex-President, we’re kind of ignorant, so you can’t expect too much from us. We don’t even know what’s for our own good. We just follow orders, ’cause we’re just, you know, robots—like you said. Thinkin’ too much hurts our heads.” Then he laughed, and the Marines around him joined in.

 

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