by Joe Nobody
“Bullshit,” she spat, a mixture of anger and hurt coloring her face. “You can call it your job all you want – that still doesn’t make it right.”
Nick remained calm, “I know you’re angry. I know you feel betrayed by our deception. But please believe me… there is solid justification why ‘need to know’ has been a method utilized for decades. It has been implemented by security services and counterintelligence agencies all over the world and for damn good reason. Bishop asked me a half dozen times to let you in on the secret. I refused, partly because I thought Diana and you had enough on your plates as it were, partly because the more people involved, the more chances someone would inadvertently clue in our mole.”
She still wasn’t buying into Nick’s logic, spinning out of his grasp and turning away, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s okay,” she lied. “I’ll get over it.”
Bishop stood to comfort his wife, but she refused his embrace as well. Even Diana’s approach was shunned.
Nick took another shot, moving to face her. “If I had told you, do you realize how much stress that would have put on your shoulders? Chase McQuire knew you well. Every conversation… every exchange with that man would have been a pressure cooker. You would have laid awake at night, wondering if you had said something wrong or phrased a sentence badly. Then, in the loneliness of darkness, you would start worrying if your mistake was about to get your husband killed. Why would I allow that heavy load of bullshit to be dumped into your lap? You’re my friend, Terri. I respect you as much as anyone on the planet. I don’t do things like that to my friends unless it’s absolutely necessary. In those circumstances, more than any other time, I hate my job.”
Something in Nick’s words seemed to resonate with the hurting woman, her eyes softening as she studied his face. “I suppose I should thank you, but I’m just not feeling it. Right this moment, I feel like an outlier… someone who was kicked out of the cool kid’s club. I guess I’m just being silly.”
Diana moved closer, handing her dearest friend a handkerchief. “We both were barred from the clubhouse, sweetie. I say, ‘Who needs boys anyway?’ I think we should get some chocolate and wine, and forget these two Neanderthals exist for a while.”
Terri nodded with a sniffle, a slight smile crossing her lips for the first time since Bishop had returned. Turning to face her husband, she said, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? Medically speaking, that is?”
Her question made him attempt a smile, which his busted lip quickly turned into a grimace. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he managed.
“Good,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m going hunting.”
She pivoted with purpose, hooking arms with Diana. “Men!” Bishop heard her exclaim as the duo stomped away. Then Terri stopped, and ran back to Bishop with a sly grin on her face. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing him gently on a bruised cheek.
“Love you, too,” he called out as she rushed back to the waiting Diana.
The two men watched the ladies as they headed to one of the waiting, black SUVs. “I wonder how much trouble they’re going to get into tonight?” Nick pondered.
“I don’t know,” Bishop replied, “but I sure hope it’s a lot.”
It was the third day of the trial, one of the biggest events in the Alliance’s short history.
Every radio station and newspaper of any size sent reporters, filling every available room for rent as far away as Midland Station. The smallish Alpha courthouse was bursting at her seams, holding a standing room only crowd.
So intense was the public’s demand, a group of military audio/visual experts from Fort Bliss set up large projection systems on the courthouse lawn, as well as other facilities all across the Republic. Rumor had it that the Pentagon had offered satellite bandwidth, and that even the White House was watching the proceedings.
D.A. Gibson was representing the State, Chase choosing to represent himself.
When the judge had read the two full pages of charges, Chase had shocked the entire courtroom by pleading guilty to all counts.
As was prescribed by Alliance law, the accused was required to admit his acts in open court, as well as answer any questions posed by the judge or the state.
It was Chase’s third day on the stand, his stunning testimony sending ripples of shock and awe throughout the territory.
It wasn’t so much D.A. Gibson’s hard-nosed questions or the physical evidence gathered by the state that had the entire republic talking. Chase was being absolutely forthright and honest in his responses, holding nothing back.
Bishop, with his arm in a sling, sat on the front row, Terri next to her husband. The couple had decided that Hunter would be happier in the nursery. Nick and Diana were right beside them.
“So it was one of your staff that broke into the doctor’s office and removed Nick’s medical records?” the prosecutor asked the former ambassador.
Sitting in his wheelchair with a crushed hip and leg, Chase responded with a loud and clear, “Yes, that’s true.”
“Why did you order that act?”
“I had talked with Nick just a short time before, and he was clearly upset after visiting the physician. If there was something seriously wrong with a man in his official position, I thought I could use that information to leverage additional strife amongst the Alliance leadership.”
“And was there any such information?”
“No, not really. Despite finding nothing useful, I decided to make the best of the burglary and planted a seed accusing Butter of the crime. This was done to cover my man, as well as causing additional friction between Bishop and Nick.”
On and on, continued the testimony, Chase admitting to calling Cameron Lewis several times a day. During those conversations, he openly recalled relaying various facts learned from the highest levels of the Alliance government.
“I informed him of Bishop’s travels to Fort Davidson and of the location when the Alliance team was supposed to operate. I also divulged Diana’s schedule, as well as intentionally delaying Bishop and Terri in Houston.”
“So you were an accessory to the attempted assassination on Diana’s life, correct?”
“I suppose,” Chase shrugged, seeming not to be taking any of it seriously.
The general public learned that Cameron Lewis had executed extreme measures to topple the Alliance government. The man had hired scores of hired guns, spent untold sums of money, and had even gone so far as to bribe two Oklahoma Air National Guard pilots into stealing the big cargo jet that now claimed the tarmac at Alpha’s small airport. Sheriff Watts had been forced to post deputies all around the airliner, it now being the most popular tourist attraction in all of West Texas.
So flippant and casual was Chase’s testimony, D.A. Gibson became concerned that someone would start a new conspiracy theory claiming the mass-murderer and multi-count felon had struck some sort of deal in exchange for his cooperation and admissions.
To squash those rumor bugs before they left the nest, she decided on a direct approach. She asked.
“You seem very relaxed, Mr. McQuire, especially given the gravity of the charges against you. You openly admit your guilt and participation in several heinous acts. Why? Why aren’t you taking this proceeding and the ramifications it has on your future seriously?”
“I’m neither ashamed of my actions, nor concerned about my future. I am an officially appointed Ambassador of the United States of America, and thus I have full immunity from prosecution.”
A bolt of anger shot through the gathered onlookers, murmurs of disbelief and whispered curses rising in volume to the point where the judge’s gavel and strong commands were required to restore order.
Bishop exchanged knowing looks with Nick, both men having already agreed that Chase wasn’t walking away from justice, diplomatic status or not. It just wasn’t happening. The big man had already picked a lamppost in front of the courthouse, a new length of rope in the bed of his pickup truck. Nothing
but the best for the fellow who sent so many of our people to early graves, Nick thought.
At another point in the proceedings, D.A. Gibson’s questioning centered on the defendant’s motive. “Were you in any way acting under the orders of the President of the United States, or the U.S. Department of State while executing these acts of sedition?”
“No. Neither of those two authorities was aware of my actions. My sole co-conspirator was Cameron Lewis,” Chase testified.
“Why did you join his cause?”
“Because I am a patriot and consider myself a citizen of the greatest nation on earth. Texas shouldn’t be allowed its independence, nor should she be enabled to seize private property and hoard resources. American needs her people united and pulling together, or our great nation will not survive. I accidently discovered Mr. Lewis and got to know the man as a victim of your council’s ruthless practices to gain and hold power. He introduced me to powerful men in Washington, and soon I was posted as the ambassador. You know the rest.”
“And where might Mr. Cameron Lewis be at this time?”
The question seemed to catch Chase off guard. For the first time during his testimony, he faltered. “I’m not sure. I’ve been in custody and out of contact.”
On and on he confessed, details emerging about how the new personal property law had been the springboard for Cameron Lewis to initiate his campaign of treachery and deceit. Chase, all along, had been feeding the Oklahoma-based mastermind with a constant stream of intelligence. The ambassador had even freelanced on several occasions when the situation allowed.
At just after 4:15PM, Gibson announced, “No further questions, Your Honor.”
The judge’s gavel descended, his honor straightening a tall stack of notes. After clearing his throat, he began, “Chase McQuire, you have waived all rights afforded by this court and admitted your guilt openly and publicly to an extensive list of charges, not limited to treason, conspiracy, numerous counts of accessory to murder in the first degree, and grand theft. For these reasons, this court has no alternative but to sentence you to death by hanging. Your execution will take place at 8AM tomorrow morning. God have mercy on your soul. Court dismissed.”
A loud cheering rose from the gathered attendees, everyone smiling and happy with the outcome.
Bishop and Nick watched as Sheriff Watts, along with an entire squad of his men, escorted Chase through the basement of the courthouse, several threats having been made against the prisoner’s life.
“See you in the morning,” Nick said. “I’m glad this is finally going to be over.”
“It will be good to get this behind us,” Terri added. “He deserves what he’s getting.”
Bishop, however, wasn’t overjoyed. “He’ll file an appeal, or try some legal shenanigans,” the Texan predicted.
The following morning, Bishop and Terri sat eating their breakfast while Hunter enjoyed oatmeal and orange slices. A knock on the door signaled the babysitter’s arrival.
Both of them felt the weightiness of the event they were about to attend, neither offering much in the way of conversation.
They arrived early at the courthouse, finding Nick and his men standing around with disgusted looks on their faces. “You were right,” the big man stated as Bishop strolled up. “Chase filed an appeal last night.”
“How can he do that when he plead guilty?” Terri asked. “I thought that eliminated any additional legal steps?”
“According to D.A. Gibson, he can appeal the sentencing. I’m sorry folks, but there isn’t going to be any justice served today.”
“Where’s Diana?” Terri asked.
“Oh, that’s the worst part. We received word this morning that the president is flying in from Washington. Air Force One landed at Bliss two hours ago. She left early to offer an official greeting.”
“Shit,” Bishop grunted. “Here we go with the diplomatic immunity routine. I knew that smug bastard wasn’t through being a pain in the ass.”
The couple milled about, helping Nick’s men explain the situation to the masses who expected to see justice delivered to a man who had taken so many Alliance lives. Most were extremely disappointed by his legal maneuver.
A short time later, Diana’s motorcade rolled down the street. Consisting of the usual mix of escort SUVs, augmented with the President’s limo and entourage, the long parade pulled into the restricted area at the rear of the courthouse.
“You might as well come on in and see your old boss,” Nick offered. “Maybe you can talk him out of trying to pull his man out of this mess.”
“Do you really think that’s why he’s here?” Terri asked. “That doesn’t fit the character of the man I know.”
“He didn’t fly in just to say hello,” Bishop replied, a worried frown on his brow. “This isn’t going to be good, I can just feel it.”
After warm greetings, handshakes, and hugs, the president was shown into Diana’s office along with Bishop and Terri. Nick and one of the Secret Service types rounded out the attendees.
“I watched part of Ambassador McQuire’s testimony,” the president began. “I must say, I’m shocked and personally embarrassed that a representative of my government would be involved in such deplorable acts.”
“We’re convinced neither you nor your administration carry any blame whatsoever for his actions,” Diana offered. “There are no hard feelings, at least not in Alpha. As a matter of fact, I want to officially request that you assign a new ambassador as soon as possible. We all believed the concept was the right move and don’t want this isolated incident to ruin the potential benefits.”
Nodding, the Colonel said, “Thank you, Miss Brown. I sincerely appreciate the Alliance taking that stance. However, there is still an issue to be resolved between us.”
“Go ahead,” Diana said, dreading what she knew was coming.
The chief executive looked at Nick and spoke like a friend delivering bad news. “I can’t let you execute our diplomat, son. I know he deserves it, but I can’t let that happen. It would set a precedent that could negatively impact my government for decades. The entire world, including all of the rogue players, would be emboldened by such an act.”
Nick’s expression flashed hot, but one glance from Diana squelched his retort. She wanted to respond. “I’m sorry to hear you say that, Mr. President. I also know that you understand our citizens are demanding justice. I hope this situation doesn’t escalate and open a rift between our two governments. How do you recommend we resolve this?”
“Before we get into that, I would like to speak with my diplomat. Privately, if you please.”
Nick tensed, not liking the chief executive’s request one bit. “I’m not so sure that’s wise,” the big guy said, glancing at the Secret Service bodyguard as if to say, “Help me out here.”
The Colonel, however, wasn’t going to budge. “Wise or not, I would like to speak with Mr. McQuire. After we’re finished, I’ll be happy to discuss possible resolutions to our dilemma.”
It was clear that Nick was on the verge of losing what little diplomacy existed inside his super-sized frame.
Bishop had been studying his former boss from the far corner. The Texan detected a slight nuance in the Colonel’s language. “There’s nothing wrong with letting a conversation take place, is there Nick?”
For a moment, it looked like Bishop was going to receive the big man’s wrath, but then Nick softened after exchanging glances with his friend.
“I suppose not,” Nick begrudgingly acknowledged.
Word was sent for Chase to be wheeled to the courthouse while a conference room was prepared for the meeting. A few minutes later, the condemned man was waiting for his Commander in Chief.
The Colonel entered the small room and then stopped his Secret Service agent at the door. “I need to have a private conversation. This won’t take long. Besides, he’s in a wheelchair, and I’m not some toothless old hound. I can take care of myself.”
Closing the doo
r behind him, the president left several puzzled faces in the hall. Everyone from Diana to Terri stood around, trying not to drift too far away, yet not wanting to appear as eavesdroppers hovering around the threshold.
While the sound of Chase’s voice occasionally drifted into the corridor, the old courthouse’s thick walls didn’t allow anyone to make out specific words.
Nick was in a state. Stepping close to Bishop, he said, “We can’t let him take that bastard out of here, immunity or not. It’s just not going to happen.”
Before Bishop could respond, a single shot rang out from the conference room.
In went the Secret Service man with weapon drawn. Nick was right behind him, security from both heads of state rushing into the hall.
They found the president sitting calmly at the table, a smoking .45 pistol in his hand. Chase was slumped over in his wheelchair, a small, red hole visible in the center of his chest.
Once the Secret Service agent was assured his protectorate was unharmed and in no danger, the president calmly explained, “He tried to escape.”
No one believed it, not for a second. Yet there wasn’t a single challenge to the president’s claim. Bishop merely glanced at Nick, a sly smile on his face.
As the president rose to leave the room, he stopped and leaned close to Diana. In a whisper, he said, “I’m sorry, Miss Brown, but I couldn’t allow you to execute that pitiful excuse for a human being. I, on the other hand, sure as hell could. Have a good day, madam.”
Epilogue
The twilight of dawn hid the dust trails as four M1 battle tanks rolled across the Oklahoma prairie.
Accompanied by Stryker fighting vehicles, the armored units approached the Lewis Oil facility from four different vectors.
The Strykers lowered their rear ramps, the sound of heavy, thumping boots disturbing the otherwise quiet morning.
Scores of U.S. infantry poured from the transports, racing for the perimeter fence in a well-rehearsed choreography of assault. The deadly cannons and machine guns atop the tanks swept left and right, their gunners ready for any form of resistance.
