The Final Proclamation (An America Reborn Thriller Book 2)

by Carlton James

  Mike never forgot the feeling of having failed as a leader, costing a boy his life.

  Coming back to the present, a shudder went up Mike’s spine with the memory of performing CPR on the cold body. Fortunately, it was replaced by one of joy as two of Peter Worthington’s granddaughters flung themselves onto his lap. They were just what Mike needed to bring back the holiday spirit.

  Mike’s wife, Lauren, couldn’t help but smile as she watched her husband being assaulted with New Year’s kisses from Peter’s granddaughters. She was very proud of the man her husband was becoming. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have more than a few rough edges. Nobody was perfect, but he seemed to have really grown lately.

  Mike began to laugh uncontrollably with the two little girls, when suddenly Sean Callahan and Linda Sharpe both walked in the front door and into the family room. For a couple of seconds, all talk ceased and everyone turned to stare. The pregnant pause lasted only a moment before the applause started.

  When the noise began to die down, both Sean and Linda could be seen blushing.

  Rollie McDermott chimed in, “Welcome, you two! My God, Sean! You can walk!” Rollie’s comment brought laughter, breaking the ice for everyone.

  Sean’s father, Fred Callahan, was the Chief of Police in the nearby town of Cronin. He was also on the Governor’s Emergency Management Task Force. Fred and his wife, Penny, were seated nearby looking like the cats that ate the canary. They obviously knew Sean would be coming over to Mike’s for his first social visit out of his home since the injury.

  It was Lauren who noticed it first. “Okay, you two. I want to hear the details. Right now!”

  Everyone who had begun to wander off came back to gather around Sean and Linda. The murmur, and even a few gasps from the ladies, could be heard as Linda shoved out her left hand to display a beautiful engagement ring with an enormous diamond.

  “Honey, why don’t you tell them,” Linda said, smiling and looking deeply into Sean’s eyes.

  Sean had to clear his throat before saying, “You all probably know Linda and I have been very close since I was blown up.”

  This comment earned an affectionate, but painful, swat from Linda and a few chuckles from the onlookers. Everyone knew he had been seriously injured during a classified mission in Afghanistan.

  “When I found this rocket scientist, athlete, military leader, and the most beautiful woman in the world, it looked like I’d have no chance with her. To make it worse, I was her commanding officer, making her doubly off limits. That explosion must have knocked some sense into me, though, and maybe the concussion knocked some sense out of her. I woke up enough to see that…”

  “Honey,” Linda said with a big smile. “They don’t care about that. All anyone wants to hear about is how you did the deed.” The look on her face made it impossible to take offense at her interruption.

  “Ahem, well, that is…” Sean, the man of steel who was never caught off guard or out of sorts, stumbled over his words.

  “Okay. Looking around the room, I see only people I can trust. Except for the popping the question part, please don’t repeat any of the rest of it. Okay?”

  Everyone in the room nodded their heads, thrilled at the concept of entering a conspiracy. Fortunately, the kids had wandered down to the basement rec room to avoid the “yucky stuff.”

  Sean continued, “Linda has taken some time off after leaving the Army and came to help me recuperate from my injuries. You may or may not have seen some unsavory characters wandering in and out of my mom and dad’s house.”

  “It’s your house, too,” Penny said to her son with annoyance.

  “Yeah, Mom, I know, but thanks for reminding me.” Sean followed the comment with one of those mischievous little boy grins.

  “Anyway, while I’m convalescing at home, the Army has asked me to work from home on some things I can’t talk about. So if you see any of the guys sent to help me handle this stuff, please treat them like regular guys and don’t mention to anyone that you’ve seen them. Not on social media, not even on the phone. Please try to ignore that we are even here. If it should get out, it could be dangerous for us on future missions.”

  Everyone nodded solemnly in agreement. “I was able to hand pick all the guys so I know they’re all good men. Now, as to the pretty daughters in town, I can assure you that they’ll all be gentlemen. They are, however, still all young men far from home, if you catch my drift.” He said this last with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Seaaann.” His mom seemed to draw his name out into a five-second sound of exasperation. “The ring story!”

  “Oh, yes. During these last few months of being in the hospital and then rehab, Linda has been there almost every day. My interest was there since the first time I saw her. That a beautiful woman like her could still love part of a man…”

  “Honey, stop!” The command from Linda was short and full of barbs. She would not tolerate this topic.

  “All right, Sweetheart,” Sean said with a look of true contrition. “Since she believed in me even when I didn’t, I decided nothing ventured, nothing gained. This afternoon while learning to walk on this new, bionic leg I seemed to stumble and ended up on my good knee. When she came over to help, I took her hands in mine, told her that I love her and asked if she would be my wife.” Penny’s eyes teared up as had several of the people listening. “When she didn’t tell me what a fool I was…”

  Linda chimed in, “Of course I said yes, you big ox!” Everyone broke into a cheer without any further discussion.

  Chapter 9

  New Year’s Eve

  Lexington, Kentucky

  2000 Hours EST

  Kerry DuBois was slightly pudgy man, with slick-back hair that everyone associates with a slimy used car or snake oil salesman. It was New Year’s Eve, and his wife had insisted that she had to go care for her mother in West Virginia. Having no real friends, Kerry had decided to make a rare trip to see his own mother at her Section 8, low-income row house in Lexington, Kentucky.

  Since Kerry had been taking care of her finances for several years, it didn’t surprise him to learn she qualified for Section 8 housing. Five years earlier, this wasn’t the case. She had far too much money to qualify for low-income housing. From his viewpoint, she was just throwing it away on the nice little apartment where she lived. Through his diligent assistance, that was no longer a problem. Kerry’s wife hadn’t even questioned where the money for his new car, trip to Las Vegas, and the occasional expensive dinner originated. With Kerry’s help, his mom no longer had too much money. She owed him, after all. Now she was paying peanuts for a place to live!

  Since he had not seen her since long before Christmas, Kerry stopped at Walgreens on the way to get a box of chocolates. It was even in a gift box and on sale after Christmas! She loved chocolate, which he knew had been forbidden by her doctor due to her diabetes. Maybe with the gift, she would quit asking how much was left in her late husband’s 401K account. The man he viciously thought of as his bastard stepfather had been a hard working over-the-road truck driver. He had taught Kerry about the Teamsters Union, but with those lessons came strict discipline that was enforced whenever he was in town. Kerry always felt that the bastard had driven him to the University of California – Berkley and the American Socialist Party platform. Like Saul Alinsky, Kerry felt that hard work was for the people too stupid to play the angles.

  Walking to the door of his mother’s apartment, Kerry dreaded the next two hours of listening to her complaints about her late disability checks and all of her ailments. In the back of his mind, he also realized that his mother wouldn’t be on the list to receive re-distributed food if that became necessary.

  “Hi, Mother,” Kerry said as
he entered her apartment. “Belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I got these chocolates for you. I know how much you enjoy them, and they’re sugar free!” Kerry said this with his most winning smile. It had been pretty simple to peel the sugar-free label off another box in the store aisle and stick it onto the box for his mother, directly over the nutritional information.

  . . .

  The Mountains in Southeast Afghanistan

  1300 Hours Local Time

  Snow was softly falling in the cold, clear air, only to be whipped around by the occasional mountain breeze. Ahmed had just praised Allah for the third time that day. A week earlier, he had spoken to the eighteen remaining martyrs. He applauded their dedication and reminded each one how much Allah and their families were depending upon them. Each family would receive money equivalent to over three years’ wages after they had completed their mission. In addition, the martyrs would be rewarded by the services of many virgins when they went to heaven.

  After Ahmed addressed his martyrs, the first three had flown off to Athens, Greece for practice in traveling and functioning in the West. They had been replaced by three more, a routine that continued every two days. All would complete their travels before the middle of January and should be ready to fulfill their mission.

  Ahmed lamented that he was unable to smite the Christian Infidels a week ago, on their most holy day. But it was the will of Allah. He could not hide his delight that everything seemed to be coming together. Jasmine’s brother, Ali, would soon arrive to set up his laboratory in the most secret cave. When the opportunity came, he would be ready if it was Allah’s will.

  . . .

  The Fontaine Estate

  Outside of San Francisco, California

  2200 Hours PST

  Katherine Fontaine sat in her silk robe on her perfectly restored 17th century divan. Her office in the Fontaine Estate outside San Francisco had been designed to have a beautifully appointed space available for public meetings. Through sliding double doors, she could access her adjoining, very private sitting room. Those Secret Service knuckle-draggers were only allowed into that room once per day, only after receiving explicit permission to enter. This was a compromise. Susan had convinced her that they had to have some access in order to sweep for bugs. Since Katherine had an almost insane fear of all bugs, electronic and insect, she grudgingly agreed, but only once daily. The household staff knew to avoid the room whenever she was in town unless instructed otherwise.

  “Madam President, your usual white wine?” Susan asked the question in a soft voice as she stood by the fully stocked bar, which was normally hidden behind closed doors.

  It was Susan’s job to keep Katherine’s life in order. When Katherine had been elected, her choice for Press Secretary, Marjorie Klein, had been the one to provide emotional and other, more personal, support. Marjorie’s health declined dramatically right after Katherine had taken office, making her unavailable. Without Marjorie, Katherine’s more intimate needs fell upon the shoulders of Susan.

  Susan did not consider herself a lesbian, but during the campaign for President, she had been swept up with the whole process of change for the country. Long ago she decided she would do anything to be a part of it. That level of power was intoxicating. When Katherine first maneuvered her into bed a few months before the election, it was a new, but not totally unpleasant experience. Since then, Susan observed the immense levels of stress placed upon the President and decided to do whatever she could to help manage that stress.

  “No, dear,” Katherine said in a husky voice. “I think a double tequila. You know the really good stuff provided by that Mexican donor to the Foundation? And make yourself two of those. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I think we need to let our hair down.”

  While saying this, Katherine pulled the elastic band from her hair to let it spill over her partially bare shoulder.

  Susan smiled her patient, almost motherly smile to acknowledge her understanding of Katherine’s meaning. She was wearing a cream-colored silk blouse Katherine had given her for Christmas, along with a luxurious red velour skirt that came just below her knees. At Katherine’s request, she wore no bra, and although she had tried on the weird thong novelty underwear Katherine had given her, she opted for no underwear at all.

  Susan swallowed her first double tequila in one gulp before bringing her second and Katherine’s first over to the divan. It was going to be a long night of work.

  Chapter 10

  New Year’s Eve

  The Great Wall of China

  0900 Hours Local Time

  General Secretary Song walked slowly down the section of the Ten-Thousand Mile Long Wall, known in the West as the Great Wall of China. Entering one of the watchtowers, he saw MSS Minister Lao standing at an open window. Lao was alone. Song’s protection detail had insured there was no one else in that particular tower.

  “Your family is doing well?”

  Song asked after having stood next to Lao for a few seconds. Lao, for his part, had patiently waited for Song to speak first. That was one of many things Song respected about Lao. Simple courtesy to a superior was dying in the People’s Republic.

  “Yes, General Secretary. My wife and children are all faring well. And your family?” Lao was particularly impressed at Song’s ability to recall the names and occupations of each of Lao’s family, going back three generations.

  Social convention having been met, Song asked his usual question. “Lao, when will our renegade province be returned to the People’s Republic?”

  Formosa, known in the West as Taiwan, was considered a mere renegade province of the People’s Republic of China.

  Lao knew Song’s real question was how invasion preparations progressed.

  “General Secretary,” Lao said with respect and a level of confidence. “The three Generals involved with the sea-assault exercise were arrested, tried, and executed quietly, but with the full knowledge of the PLA General Staff. Two members of the Politburo have retired to their private estates outside of Vienna, Austria after having learned of the failure of their latest plot to assassinate you. I fear they may not survive to see the Chinese New Year.”

  Lao’s smile would have terrified a lesser man, but Song just nodded with his own satisfaction. The intrigues he had used to become Premier and General Secretary had given Song a fatalistic approach to life.

  “How close are we to being able to launch a successful attack on Formosa?” Song asked the question in a voice that was barely audible to Lao.

  “General Secretary, short of using nuclear weapons, with great losses we could take the island today. That is presuming American battle groups are within striking distance. Many of our casualties will come from the fight to neutralize that threat. Use of our tactical EMP weapons on both the Americans and the Formosa forces will enhance our probability of success. There is new intelligence, however that indicates the Formosa military has secretly hardened their military command and control and some weapons systems against an EMP attack. The American Navy is somewhat hardened against an EMP strike, but such a strike would severely weaken their capabilities. Of course, if you choose to utilize the capabilities that just became available, their shields might prove useless.”

  Lao continued, “It is yet undetermined whether the island government would launch a counterattack against the Chinese mainland. They have the capability to do so in a limited way, even to strike Beijing and Shanghai with a few missiles. Their government, however, has an ongoing debate as to whether such a strike would remove their status as a victim of Chinese aggression among the world community. In reality, General Secretary, considering how we have crushed the Western economy by discontinuing oil purchases; the world community opinion should not be a factor at this tim
e. There will be time to adjust that opinion after we have repositioned ourselves in the world power structure.

  On another related topic, intelligence has just come to me indicating several members of the Politburo were most unhappy at the prospect of a possible invasion, fearing war with the U.S. These men will have to be placated.”

  Lao decided to balance the bad news with his first smile. “Special Project ‘Frozen Lilly’ has been tested successfully and is ready for an appropriate real world test.”

  Frozen Lilly was the code name for a super-secret capability allowing a tactical EMP device to be directed at very small targets, such as a ship or small naval battle group. Unlike previous similar weapons, improvements in technology would allow it to overcome most military EMP shielding. The prospect of being able to temporarily disable an American naval battle group, without it being obvious that China was responsible, provided almost endless opportunities. Song continued to be amazed at Lao’s ability to protect the program from leaking to the West.

  “What needs to be done?” Song asked the open-ended question with more force than he had used in previous questions.

  Lao responded thoughtfully, “With each passing week I believe the PLA General Command will adjust the level of corruption to provide funding for troop training and equipment upgrades. Realistically, it will be another six months to a year before there is a large improvement in the PLA casualty rate. Of greater importance is the continued weakening of the American economy and its effect on their Navy. Their President has already ordered much of the Pacific Fleet back to Pearl Harbor and San Diego, over the objections of both the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Secretary of the Navy. I learned from our most confidential source that President Fontaine is planning to remove the Secretary of the Navy and replace him with a political creature that will reduce funding for the Navy across the board.”