The Second Civil War- The Complete History

by Adam Yoshida

  The Chief of Staff slapped the President on the back as they walked towards the exit together.

  All over the world men had made careful plans for what was to come next. But, as history has repeatedly shown, there are forces in this universe which have and always shall override the designs of men both great and small.

  Mark Varro knew the path that the President’s car would take from the venue where he was speaking. His years spent around the White House gave him supremely intimate knowledge of the processes and capabilities of the Secret Service. Based upon this, he knew that it would be very difficult to fire at the President with success from any considerable distance. He also knew, based upon history, that attempted Presidential assassinations as close range were a dicey thing. They had a success rate of well under 50%.

  What would work was a bomb.

  Now, of course, the most effective way of doing such a thing would be with a suicide bomb vest. That would be very nearly 100% effective. However, that would prevent him from standing before the American people and making the case for this act and for all of his other acts. Varro did not object to martyrdom, if that was what God ultimately had in mind for him, but he fully believed that the American people needed to know why he had chosen to take the actions that he did and, furthermore, that he would be the best person to explain them to them.

  With his full Air Force dress uniform on and his military bearing, he did not attract much attention in the crowd of people gathered around the exit of the hotel where the President’s car was waiting. He checked his watch - it was a used Rolex DateJust with a two-toned metal band that he’d bought two days earlier with the rest of his cash. He had, after all, always wanted one.

  When the President emerged, there was a great roar from the crowd, as supporters and ordinary onlookers alike surged forward to get a look at the man who had just escaped impeachment. It was regrettable that there was certain to be collateral damage from his act, but he reasoned, it wasn’t as tragic as it might have been - most of the civilians in the area were likely to be supporters of the man, after all, he reasoned.

  Varro pressed forward through the crowd, holding his briefcase in one hand and his cellular phone in the other. Some people, seeing his uniform and assuming that he had some official function, made way. Others had to be shoved aside. When he reached a reasonable range, Varro hurled the briefcase across the rope line, throwing it as far forward towards the Presidential limousine as he could, and then, as he had practiced hundreds of times, he used his other hand to hit the speed dial on his phone.

  It took a few seconds for people to react to the flying object. Secret Service agents grabbed the President the crowd pulled back in fear - and then nothing happened. People in the crowd turned to face Varro as Secret Service agents rushed towards him. He looked at his phone. The call had failed. As the first Secret Service agent grabbed him and began to wrestle him to the ground, he managed to hit the redial key, just as the phone was knocked to the ground, shattering on impact. As the agents pushed him the ground, Varro felt the world around him rocked by a massive explosion. He and the agent who had him in a hold both were knocked to the ground and the agent lost his grip. Varro scrambled to his feet and took a look around. Amid the tangle of blood, wreckage, and bodies around him he thought that he recognized what was left of Alexis Jensen, torn in half with her guts spilled out across the ground with her glazed-over eyes staring blankly into eternity. But he could not see the President. Not waiting to get a better look at his handiwork, he turned and simply ran.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sarajevo

  The Pentagon, Arlington, VA

  “There must be someone in this fucking building who knows what the fuck is happening,” raged General Martin Walker, the Army Vice-Chief of Staff, as he impotently watched chaos spiral around him.

  “...The latest reports, and I must stress that this is absolutely preliminary, are that the President has died,” said the CBS News anchor who had won the media career lottery by happening to be the guy hanging around that morning when it became imperative that they take to the air immediately.

  “Can anyone confirm that?” asked General Walker, waving his personal tablet in the air. There was no response.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Fuck!” he shouted before slamming the tablet down upon his desk.

  “An explosion occurred as the President emerged from the hotel, where he and a number of supporters had been celebrating his acquittal in the Senate impeachment trial. I was standing no more than fifteen feet away,” said the reporter from Fox News, “when a man emerged and threw an object at the Presidential party. Deputy Chief of Staff Alexis Jensen – a close personal friend of the President and the First Family – was closest to the blast. She is definitely deceased, I can confirm that.”

  This was one of those moments in time when everyone wants to do something but no one knows exactly what might do any good. An attempt had been made upon the life of the President, and no one knew exactly what would come next.

  “Our sources at the White House are telling us that the President is alive, but in very serious condition,” said the CNN news reader.

  “How the fuck does CNN know more about the President than we do?” asked Walker.

  “They don’t,” a steady voice projected itself across the room as General Richard Hall, the Army’s Chief of Staff, strode through the door.

  “I just got off the phone with SecDef,” said Hall. “The President’s in critical condition at GW Medical Centre. We’re going to DEFCON 3 and FORCECON 2 worldwide.”

  “Do they know who did it?” a particularly bold staffer asked.

  “If they do, they aren’t telling me,” said Hall.

  Rayburn House Office Building, Washington, DC

  “Dear God,” said Representative Tessa Rowan as the coverage of the attempted assassination blared from every screen around her, “I hope that this wasn’t someone associated with us.”

  A few of the people in the room shot the Illinois Congresswoman dirty looks for having been the first to vocalize what everyone was thinking.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said House Majority Leader Terrance Rickover. “Even if perpetrator was a black transsexual lesbian Islamic extremist whose motive was to stop cosmetic testing on animals, we’d be blamed for this. That’s just the way of the world. That’s what those people are about.”

  Rickover stopped for a moment to gaze out the window into an early evening filled with sirens and noise. The impeachment of the President, though it had ultimately failed in the Senate, had been a tremendous moral victory – a blow delivered on behalf of the productive portion of the population against the great mass of takers who supported the President. What would become of them now?

  “Now, though, we should probably face up to the reality that this was almost certainly someone who could be fairly be said to be on ‘our side.’ After all, the timing is just too good – not two hours ago the President was acquitted by the Senate. We’ve just spent months denouncing him for violating the Constitution, for trespassing against the rights of our citizens, and so forth. Would it surprise any of you if, therefore, someone decided – in light of the Senate’s acquittal – that more direct action was called for? Even if that’s not it, we’re going to take a hit. But it probably is it.”

  “Of course,” he added, “that doesn’t mean that any of us should be stupid about this.”

  Rickover stood up and turned to face the other members of the House Republican Conference who had gathered in the large room.

  “That goes for all of you,” he said, projecting his voice across the room, “I know that we all have disagreements with this President. I know that all of you just voted to impeach him for crimes against the Constitution. Believe me, I am very cognizant of those facts. But today is not the day to indulge in any of that. The media is going to be coming at us, charging that we created a ‘climate of hate’ – certainly they’ll take another run at gun rights as we
ll. We have to play this out with intelligence.”

  Andrews, AFB

  Vice President Kevin Bryan had not been at the hotel when the President was shot. Instead, he’d been in the air onboard Air Force Two, headed on the outbound leg of yet another of those interminable foreign trips that were the curse of the Vice Presidency. The dispatch of the Vice President overseas had been a deliberate show of defiance on the part of the President, a sign that he was 100% confident that the results of the voting in his Senate impeachment trial would be favorable to him. As soon as the word of what had happened in Washington had arrived the orders had been issued to turn the plane around. Someone else would have to be the U.S. representative at the funeral of the former French President.

  “Any update on the condition of the President?” said Bryan as soon as Raul Emerson greeted him at the door of the aircraft.

  “He’s in surgery,” said the notably subdued Chief of Staff as he walked with Bryan down the stairs.

  “The Secret Service wants to take you to either Camp David or to Raven Rock,” said Emerson as he followed Bryan, struggling to keep pace with the 6-foot-4 Vice President as he rapidly strode towards the waiting helicopter. “The truth be told, they wanted to keep you away from Washington. They’ve got the attacker, but they’re still not confident that they know what’s going on yet. They’d rather you be in a secure location.”

  “Yeah,” said Bryan, loudly and in the direction of his own Secret Service detail, “well, I’m just going to count on them not to fuck up twice in one day.”

  Bryan and Emerson quickly hopped aboard the Marine Sea King helicopter that was sitting on the tarmac. The Chief of Staff looked at the Vice President carefully as they buckled in. Emerson was a realistic man. He had seen the wounds suffered by President Warren and he had been a soldier once. He knew that the odds were that the man sitting across from him would soon be the President of the United States. What sort of a man was sitting there, he wondered. Until an hour earlier, the Vice President had always been a problem to be managed and a factor to be considered, but never really a living and breathing human being in any sense of the word. In their limited interactions since Bryan had leaped onboard Team Warren eleven days before the Democratic National Convention in Pittsburgh, he had always thought that the man was fiery and determined but subdued. Today, however, his eyes were full of an intense energy and he could barely sit still.

  “The White House,” ordered the Vice President, not bothering to wait for any of the rest of his retinue that was still busy disembarking from Air Force Two. Within thirty seconds the helicopter was in the air.

  “You said that they’ve got the guy?” Bryan asked Emerson.

  “Yeah,” replied the Chief of Staff, “they’ve kept it out of the news so far. They don’t have a full picture. Apparently he’s ex-military. Had both a political and personal grudge against the President. We haven’t released anything yet.”

  “This is domestic, then,” stated the Vice President

  “It appears to be,” confirmed Emerson.

  The flight from Andrews to the downtown Washington was completed in minutes.

  “We’ll put you down and the Secret Service will have a limo waiting...” said Emerson.

  “No,” said the Vice President, “put us down on the South Lawn.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Vice President,” said the Chief of Staff, “only the President lands on the South Lawn.”

  Bryan looked at Emerson with disdain and then turned to the pilot.

  “Put us down on the South Lawn,” he ordered.

  United States Secret Service Field Office, District of Columbia

  Everyone had tried to grab the would-be assassin. In theory, the FBI had exclusive jurisdiction over Presidential assassination attempts. However, in practice, the odds that the Secret Service – burned by its failure to protect President Warren – would let the man go immediately were effectively zero.

  “You must understand, gentlemen,” Major Mark Varro told his captors, “that I have nothing against any of you. Indeed, I consider myself to still be in service to the United States, as you are, albeit on detached duty.”

  “Shut up,” the agent said to him, roughly grabbing him by the arm and pulling him forward.

  “Look,” said Varro, “I understand that what I did will have adverse consequences for some of you, and for that I am sorry. If it is any comfort to you, you should know – as I know, for I have been on the other side of this sort of thing – that there is nothing else that you could have done. But the blow that I struck against tyranny was a necessity and the American people, once they are allowed to see the truth, will see that. Indeed, they shall march through the streets and cry peace, freedom, and liberty.”

  “Sit down and shut the fuck up,” ordered the agent, as he roughly shoved Varro into an interrogation room. Varro responded by moving a few steps forward into the room, adjusting his uniform as best as his handcuffed state would allow, and then softly taking a seat.

  After a few minutes, the door opened. A balding man in his early forties, wearing a light beige suit and thick glasses, stepped through the door.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, “I’m Antonio Olufsen, an Assistant United States Attorney for the District of Columbia.”

  “I am aware of your work, Mr. Olufsen,” said Varro noncommittally.

  “Now,” said Olufsen, “I am given to understand that you wish to make a statement.”

  “Yes,” said Major Varro, “although, actually, when I was searched on my way into this facility a memory card was taken from me. It contained a complete statement on my part – though, of course – it would need to be slightly updated to reflect the events of the last few hours.”

  “We’ll go through that,” said Olufsen, “but, before we continue: you can confirm that you have been read your rights and informed of your right to counsel?”

  “I am more than capable of representing myself in this matter and, yes, I have been informed of my rights,” said Varro.

  “Alright. Then why did you bomb the President and others?”

  “Because I swore an oath – and beyond that have a general obligation as a citizen – to defend the Constitution of the United States of America and the rights of its citizens. Insofar as ordinary Constitutional remedies had – per the events of today – had been exhausted, I chose to resort to extraordinary ones to defend that document and those rights. I believe that all citizens of this country have an absolute right, when any form of government becomes arbitrary and abusive, to alter or abolish it and that, very regrettably, there are points where the only available remedies to that end are violent ones. While I am certain that the media – with its typical capacity for distortion – will label me a ‘madman’, I am in fact anything but. I am an ordinary citizen who believes in our Constitution and is therefore willing to sacrifice his own life to defend it. Implicit in my willingness to give my own life, I am also absolutely willing to take the lives of those who participate in the destruction of the Constitution. I do not mean to say any of this offensively.”

  “I understand that,” replied Olufsen.

  NBC HD Broadcast Center, Washington, DC

  As was his custom, Henry Cullen checked his smartphone up until the last seconds before he went on the air. The final message he received, just five minutes before he was due to go on the air, was short and to the point.

  “18 USC § 373,” the text message read. He didn’t need more than that.

  Like many in Washington, Cullen had failed upwards. He had snagged his present gig as an on-air legal analyst for MSNBC after he had spectacularly been defeated in his attempt to convict a San Diego homeowner who had shot two Hispanic “youths” (using the universal euphemism) of murder. The circus had cost the taxpayers of San Diego County some $4.5 million, but it had managed to gain him national attention and, as was customarily the case, the failure of the jury to convict the plainly-innocent homeowner in question was attributed to the ingr
ained racism of the American people.

  “We are still awaiting word as to the condition of the President,” said the MSNBC anchor, for the 23rd time that hour, “but we are now joined by our NBC Legal Analyst, Henry Cullen, to consider some of the legal implications of today’s events.”

  “Thanks Brett,” said Cullen. “Now, obviously, we’re all hoping that the President pulls through. Though, might I point out that the President was not the only victim today. Alexis Jensen was a good friend of mine.”

  “As she was to many of us in Washington,” the anchor solemnly intoned.

  “I think that, in the coming days – regardless of what happens to the President – we are going to see a very strong push for a thorough response to this by the Federal Government. Now, I know that it’s being reported that there was only a single attacker – though I don’t know if that’s been confirmed yet – but the issues here certainly extend beyond the actions of that single individual. There are people here in this country who have created a climate of hatred that may have incited this individual – or perhaps individuals – to act, and I believe that the American people are going demand that those people be held accountable for what they have done.”

  “What do you mean?” said the anchor.

  “Section 373 of Title 18 of the United States Code assigns criminal penalties to anyone who ‘induces, or otherwise endeavors to persuade such other person to engage in such conduct’ – meaning crimes of violence.”

  “Ok,” said the anchor, “but certainly that would only apply if people were found to have directly interacted with the bomber or bombers.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Cullen. “The test, established by the Supreme Court, is whether or not speech is likely to incite imminent lawless conduct. I would invite you to review some remarks made by prominent commentators and public officials on the right and conclude that they have not, in fact, crossed that line.”