The Final Proclamation (An America Reborn Thriller Book 2)

by Carlton James

  John merely sat in his chair and mouthed the words, “My God.” He then refocused and said, “We have to tell the President immediately!” John had even begun to rise off his seat.

  “John,” the Director said, “please sit back down for at least another few minutes.” At the soft, but commanding request John slumped back into his chair.

  “Before I go to the President, and I will be going to the President with this one, I want to make sure the evidence I present is not just beyond a reasonable doubt, but is incontrovertible. We need to have at least two more meetings by Walter and the Chinese girl, and those meetings cannot take place without you being willing to sit on what you have heard today. I’m sure you know how much the President will want to bury this and maybe everyone involved in it.” The Director was displaying the kind of leadership presence that made him one of the few people in the current administration that could command nearly universal respect.

  “I know your head is spinning on all of this, and we’ve given you a hell of a lot to take on faith. I would not be here having this conversation if I hadn’t seen the evidence. I refuse to be personally involved in anything political and everyone here and the few others at the bureau that know about this feel the same way. Now the question is: What do we do about it? When I do walk into the President’s office, I want to have everything that is possible in hand. All of us must think about what is best for the country, and Lord knows this country is in a world of hurt. Like in 1775, 1812, and 1941 ‘these are the times that try men’s souls.’ Thomas Payne said that during the Revolutionary War. John, I believe what we’re facing in our country right now is every bit as desperate as it was then, with the potential to be a whole lot worse.”

  “John,” the Director said, “we’re going to leave you now. We didn’t want to put you in the position of lying to your own agency, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But it is what it is, and we all have to deal with it. Hugh has brought along a simple transmitter that is activated by pressing the button. I’d like to leave it with you and ask you to think about pressing the button the next time Walter takes off for his unofficial liaison meeting. You can do so or not as you think is best for you and this country. I also ask that you sit on this information until after the next two outings by Mr. Fontaine. Can you do that for me?”

  John looked into the Director’s eyes for a full minute before saying, “I’ll keep quiet about this visit, but I won’t guarantee to help you going forward, you know, like pushing the button.”

  The Director nodded. “Last comment, John. Unless you decide to say something, no one in my shop will ever reveal this meeting took place. Should you decide you have to tell someone, I will back up your story, so long as it is accurate.” With that last phrase, the Director even smiled. He laid the signaling device on the table along with a card bearing a phone number identified only with the word, “Hugh.”

  The Director stood up and offered his hand to John. His handshake was both warm and firm without being a vice grip. John’s old college roommate and Hugh both got up, shook John’s hand and walked out of his apartment without another word.

  John watched them go. His brain felt like a drag-racing engine going at full speed, only to run out of fuel. Walking into his bedroom, he lay down on his bed, but was unable to sleep.

  . . .

  Alexandria, Virginia

  1700 Hours EST

  Lisa McIntyre sat on her bed in her parent’s home in Alexandria, Virginia. Her father had, uncharacteristically, been out doing some type of FBI work all morning on Christmas Day. He finally returned late in the afternoon and Lisa’s mother gathered the family to sit down to an abbreviated Christmas dinner. She could tell that Hugh was mentally somewhere other than at their home. What was worse, Lisa seemed to be off on some other planet herself.

  “All right, you two,” Lisa’s mom said with authority. “It’s high time you put aside whatever you have on your minds and spend a little family time sharing the love of the Christmas season.”

  The family had opened presents on Christmas Eve, so Christmas Day was traditionally just a gathering around the dinner table to give thanks for the birth of Christ and to celebrate their love for each other. This was to be followed by watching the NBA basketball game.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I have something very pressing going on at work. Nothing to do about it now, so let me first thank my lovely bride for giving me a tremendous daughter and, most recently, a wonderful dinner!” Both ladies at the table smiled with appreciation at Hugh’s comment.

  Almost immediately, Lisa excused herself, got up from the table, and ran to her room. Her mother began to get up to follow her until Hugh stopped her. “I’ve got this one, honey.” He patted her hand as he got up to follow Lisa.

  Knocking on Lisa’s door twice, Hugh entered without invitation. Lisa was lying on her bed crying in great sobs. He immediately went to her and gathered her up in his arms as he had done when she was a little girl. For several minutes he didn’t say anything. He just stroked her hair and held her close until her sobs stopped, to be replaced by a serious case of the sniffles.

  “Dad?” Lisa asked in a little girl voice. “Is Su going to get out of this alive?” Already the tears had begun to stream down her face again.

  “Sweetheart, I’ve never lied to either your mother or you, so I won’t say there is no danger. But she is an extremely resourceful young woman, so I expect she will be okay for now.” He paused before going on. “When are you going to see her again?”

  “We’re supposed to have lunch at my apartment day after tomorrow. Why?”

  “Tell her that her ordeal will be over soon, but I don’t know exactly when. When that time comes, I will come for her, and she will need to leave without taking anything with her.”

  “But when, Daddy?” Lisa asked, somehow knowing her father wouldn’t tell her.

  In his mind, Hugh screamed at himself for not telling Lisa that after two meetings with the President’s husband, he would be coming to end her torment. His only answer was a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  Chapter 2

  Christmas Day - Plus Two Days

  The White House

  0900 Hours EST

  “What is wrong with you assholes?” President Katherine Fontaine exploded at her Cabinet and staff with another of her tantrums. Returning early from her Christmas holiday coupled with her frequent migraines had caused her tirade to be shorter than usual. Recently, she followed these outbursts with clipped edicts to be carried out by her minions. Her Chief of Staff, former Senator Burt Combs, had heard from attendees Katherine was now known as “ES” or evil stepmother – a direct reference to the cartoon movie Cinderella. Wisely, Burt chose not to share this information with his President. Nor did he share with her the extreme annoyance of everyone, including himself, at being called to a Cabinet meeting during what was traditionally a holiday vacation period.

  Peering through his thick horn-rimmed glasses, Treasury Secretary Seth Goldberg had just advised that another economic stimulus on the heels of the successful one initiated by the administration months earlier would not be successful.

  His brief explanation was cut short by Katherine’s low, threatening command. “Enough! Anyone else feel strongly that a second stimulus package would fail?” Like a snake waiting to strike, she looked around the room for any obvious sign of support for Goldberg. Stand-ins for CIA Director Bradley Pittson and Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman General Steven K. Taylor were under strict instructions to only observe and report.

  Most of the rest had previously taken their turn in opposing one of Katherine’s ideas only to become the object of her personal ridicule. Seated at the table were men and women with over two hundred years of experience who had been relegated to
being yes-men. That had caused their own levels of frustration to balloon to the point two cabinet members had stepped down for “personal reasons.” Considering the egos in the room, it was amazing any had chosen to remain.

  Katherine knew that her glares and steamrolling management style cut short any attempt to garner support from the rest of the cabinet in opposing her agenda. Also, it squashed discussion, which would add to the immense pain she experienced on nearly a daily basis from her migraine headaches. She reminded herself that a worsening economic crisis would soon create the need for her to take charge beyond what those present in the room imagined.

  “Are we finished here, Burt?” Katherine asked her Chief of Staff in a tone that meant they were in fact, done.

  “Yes, Madam President, the remainder will wait until the next meeting.” Burt had to swallow the frustrated words he wanted to say. Only a few months earlier he had told Katherine that she could really count on his loyalty, no matter what. He had begun to have second thoughts. In true political fashion, he began to spin that promise in his mind.

  Without another word, Katherine walked from the room toward the Oval Office. On the way, she was met by her assistant, Susan Cassel. Susan was an attractive woman in her mid-40’s who kept Katherine’s life organized and provided critically needed stress relief on a more personal level.

  “Madam President,” said Susan in a quiet voice, “Eli Fredericks is in your office.”

  Everyone in the White House staff, including Susan, was aware that Katherine’s largest and most influential campaign donor was to be granted complete access and scheduling precedence over anyone else. He hadn’t donated to her personally, although he did ensure individual hefty donations flowed to her campaign. Through shell companies and even certain foreign governments, he had arranged for donations to the Fontaine Foundation totaling in excess of $450 million.

  Katherine could not help drawing in a deep breath as she walked in the office. She had been willing to deal with the devil himself in order to attain a position of power like no other in the world. In many ways, she had done so several times with different power brokers. Eli, however, was in a league of his own. The several hundred billion dollars he had made working hedge funds and other more unusual investment strategies had allowed him to expand his tentacles all over the globe. His multiple Political Action Committees were responsible for getting her elected. He had also covertly ensured she would never have to rely on anyone else for money again.

  Waiting in Katherine’s office was a clean-shaven, light-skinned black man in his late 50’s, sitting patiently on her couch working diligently on his smart phone. Such devices were strictly forbidden in most of the White House complex, but then rules did not apply to Eli or to Katherine.

  “Eli, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?” Katherine used the super-sweet tone of voice she reserved for those of color to convince them of her sincere respect. Her intent failed miserably in that regard.

  Eli’s tone and choice of words had lost their courtesy over the past several months. Previously, he had asked questions and guided Katherine to what he wanted in a respectful voice. Now, his voice was frequently laced with contained anger and a staccato, machine-gun like cadence.

  “Katherine, rumors have been flying everywhere that your administration plans to roll out another stimulus plan.” Eli stopped and waited for her response, adding the elevation of a questioning eyebrow.

  “How big do the rumors say the stimulus package will be?” Katherine asked the question with genuine curiosity.

  Eli did not like questions, far preferring to be the one doing the asking. “Well, Katherine, the numbers blow around like leaves, but most lean on the high side at two trillion.”

  “Hmm, Goldberg is certain that a second stimulus plan won’t work, since it is too soon after the last one. Not to mention, it would drive up the debt above $30 trillion.” After a pause, Katherine continued, “Tell me, Eli, would another stimulus package of, say, two trillion have any effect on this broken capitalist economy?”

  Eli’s cold, pale green eyes looked levelly at Katherine for a full five-second count before he responded, “Yes, Katherine, I think it just might work. After all, the whole situation is unprecedented. Nobody really knows what will work and what won’t.” After another pause for effect, Eli said in his most diplomatic and reasonable voice, “We’re in uncharted waters here, but there is a chance the plan could drive things down into the economic toilet even faster. Are you willing to take that risk?”

  The look on Katherine’s face was different than Eli expected, although he really couldn’t have said exactly what he expected. Regardless, he did not expect the appearance of determination and even carefully controlled excitement that he saw. “Yes, Eli, I think I am. Oh, I meant to ask. How is your new investment portfolio going?” Eli knew this question was code for, “How are my personal, off shore investments going?” Early in her campaign for President, Eli had shown her a printout for what he called a “new investment portfolio.” It was understood between them that come what may; this portfolio was completely confidential and would always be considered hers. It was a covert backup to the Fontaine Foundation funds. She was obviously concerned about what the crumbling economy was doing to these funds.

  “Since I have been managing these funds myself the past year, they have seen a percentage increase.” As he said this he raised his hand and put up his index finger, followed by his middle finger and then his ring finger. He then balled his hand into a fist, signifying a three hundred percent increase.

  With some relief, Katherine responded, “I suspected you would have funds you personally managed.” She then let it drop.

  Within the Oval Office, the recording equipment was supposed to be going at all times that the President was there. President Nixon found out the hard way how damning those tapes could be. One of Katherine’s first moves was, by TOP SECRET executive order with a fifty-year expiration date, to ensure there was a switch that she could personally turn off. It was off now, but neither she nor Eli had any illusions of absolute privacy.

  Eli stood up with purpose. “I have pressing matters, but thank you for taking the time to see me, Katherine.” His smile was cold with just a hint of contempt.

  Katherine watched Eli leave the Oval Office. She thought again about whether she should use the worsening economic situation to push through another stimulus package. If the package plunged the country into further depression, it would be easier for the public to accept a declaration of emergency. Riots and any actions that could be spun to the media as an armed insurrection would allow for gun seizures. Once the guns were off the streets, troublemakers could be easily arrested. Get rid of them and the sheep would follow her without question. This thought made her almost giddy, easing her throbbing migraine.

  Chapter 3

  Christmas - Plus Two Days

  The Pentagon

  930 Hours EST

  The meeting had been called by the tall, willowy-framed man with short, steel-grey hair holding the title of Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. General Steven K. Taylor had endured many distasteful duties in his illustrious career and counted this one to be among the worst. In attendance were the Commanders for the U.S. Army and U.S. Air National Guard for all fifty states. The briefing was at the TOP SECRET level so all cell phones and any other transmitting or recording devices had been banned from the area. It was scheduled two days after Christmas in an attempt to avoid the press and make an impression on the National Guard commanders.

  The National Guard Commanding Officers generally held the rank of one or two star General or the naval equivalent. A few “full bird” Colonels were also in the group. They had all expressed consternation when told their aids could not join them for the meeting. In f
ront of each Commander was a yellow folder. Each was marked at the top and bottom with TOP SECRET and several other initials denoting the information was only given on a need-to-know basis. Virtually all had ignored the post-it note on each folder instructing them to refrain from opening until told to do so. No one in the room was used to this type of instruction. Each was busily leafing through the folder with a mixture of surprise and skepticism.

  “Gentlemen, ahem, and ladies, thank you for coming here on such short notice. Without further ado, let me introduce a man you all recognize and many of you know personally, the Secretary of Defense.” The applause was made up of a couple of dozen officers, clapping their hands unenthusiastically.

  After twenty minutes of the second in command of all U.S. military forces spouting generalities about the bad situation in the country and world, it was clear he believed things were going to hell in a hand basket. “As Commanders of our National Guard, you are primarily tasked with protecting the people of your state. If things continue to deteriorate, you may be called upon to place those priorities on hold and protect the United States as a whole. Now this is classified ‘TOP SECRET,” but I wanted you to know the President is considering federalizing all National Guard units for the duration of this crisis. If she chooses to do so, I will expect you to provide the same level of professionalism and loyalty that you give to your respective Governors.”