Uncivil Liberties

by Gordon Ryan

  “I don’t know about Homeland Security yet,” Snow said, flipping through a few more pages, “but I do know it will be at the forefront of a lot of action and public reaction, good and bad. I’m inclined to stick with Collins for SecDef. He’s come out publicly against military intervention in California, and he served well as Secretary of the Army under Eastman during his first term. Besides California, we anticipate much more domestic terrorism this decade. This is a long war, Josh. If history serves, it may even outlast the European Thirty Years’ War, or, heaven forbid, the Hundred Years’ War. It started during your term, Josh, but most attacks were abroad in those years. It’s a lot different now, even in the short time you’ve been out of office.”

  “Well,” Steadman replied, rising from his seat and placing his coffee cup back on the table, “since you asked for my advice, let me tell you a bit about someone who is currently hidden away. Someone I came to trust explicitly. Someone who doesn’t give a hoot about higher political office.”

  A quizzical look appeared on President Snow’s face. “Someone from Washington whom you trusted?”

  Steadman laughed. “He’s not from Washington. Far from it, but he’s served his country in peace and in war, including the Washington wars, for nearly forty years.”

  “You’ve got my attention,” Snow said, beginning to rise to the game.

  The former president walked toward the small table in the corner of the room, a silver coffee service in place on its polished surface. “Let me refill my coffee cup and I’ll give you a couple of thoughts. Would you like a refill?”

  Chapter 8

  White House Oval Office

  Washington D.C.

  February

  Lieutenant General William Austin, USAF, Ret., and Brigadier General Pádraig Connor, USMC, were escorted into the Oval Office by Dixie, the president’s temporary secretary. President William Snow came out from behind his desk and greeted both men, smiling broadly.

  “It’s been a long time, Pug,” the president said. “When I heard you were part of the president’s extended staff, I was surprised and quite pleased. How are your parents?”

  “Very well, Mr. President.”

  “General Austin,” the president said, turning his attention to Austin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He offered his hand. “Please, gentlemen, take a seat. General Austin, can I assume that General Connor has explained our distant family relationship?”

  “Yes, Mr. President. When Pug… uh, General Connor called to advise me that you had requested my attendance this morning, he discussed your former relationship. I also understand his older brother is your son-in-law.”

  “That’s correct. And has he explained our other former connection?”

  “Sir, General Connor has also advised that you were partners in a law firm with his father. He casually mentioned that you taught him to play golf as well.”

  The president laughed. “Too well, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t stand a chance against him, should we tee it up again. So, now that the familiarities are completed, I’m the one who needs to be brought up to speed. Pug, as my secretary mentioned yesterday, the purpose for this impromptu meeting was to brief me on your current position and the confidential task force you head. Can you succinctly describe the function of your office—what’s it called? The Office of Information and Public Relations? What does that office do for Homeland Security?”

  Pug hesitated momentarily, a pensive look crossing his face. “Well, Mr. President, we don’t do public relations.”

  President Snow smiled back at his former law partner’s son. “I surmised as much, General Connor. And I confess to a short briefing—yesterday morning, actually—from President Steadman. He said President Prescott had called him to discuss her intention to create your task force and wanted his opinion. He supported her intentions. I have no knowledge of where President Cumberland stood on the issue.”

  “I see, sir. Then you understand that President Prescott organized our office under the Homeland Security Department specifically to give her direct control over a quick reaction, military think tank. She wanted a closer relationship to planning as it pertains to rapidly developing terrorist activity, primarily domestic terrorism. She had concluded—during her vice presidency—that it would only grow more intrusive within the U.S. homeland. As she explained it to me, she wanted opinions and suggestions outside the Pentagon chain of command. Actually, we’re a slightly different kind of think tank, Mr. President. Each of our officers—and, sir, we actually have a very small full-time staff, eight people, to be exact—has come directly from command of a branch of special forces and has had direct field action experience.”

  President Snow nodded. “Would that include you, Pug?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “Didn’t you also head a task force for President Eastman regarding the California secession movement? Something about election fraud and militia activity?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve prepared a full, written after-action report for you on that subject when you feel ready to review it. The secession issue is still very much alive, Mr. President, although we’ve curtailed the election fraud process. As it stands, California still intends to divide into multiple states, but they haven’t rescinded their electoral decision to secede and form their own nation. In fact, as I understand my latest briefing from FBI Director Granata, the movement is actually growing stronger.”

  Snow nodded. “I’m aware of developments in the west. That problem may overshadow everything else, if we’re not careful. I’ve heard back room chat from my Arizona contacts that the secession movement, at least philosophically, has spread to several other western states. But that discussion can wait for a few days. Let’s stick with your current position. What does your task force actually do, Pug?”

  “Sir,” General Austin interrupted, “may I speak candidly?”

  “By all means, General Austin,” the president said, turning to look at the older man.

  “Sir, General Connor may be too modest to give you the full story. I, on the other hand, don’t suffer from that particular genetic abnormality. Washington has cured me of any semblance of humility.”

  Both President Snow and Pug Connor could not help but laugh at Austin’s self-degradation.

  “Sir,” Austin continued, “for over a decade, first at the National Security Agency and then at the CIA, Pug has served on my staff, most recently as my executive officer. I had to literally drag him out of field command and order him behind the desk. Last year, I recommended him to President Eastman to head the California investigative task force. With some regional assistance from the California Adjutant General and FBI support, the task force broke the ring of corporate moguls that was perpetrating the fraud. But, in light of his current duties—Pug would probably diminish his role—he has an outstanding military record as a combat field commander. America has been involved in two ground wars, but many more covert operations to stop further terrorist attacks. As a captain and then a major, he served as the commanding officer of a Marine Corps Fleet Anti-Terrorist Security Team, which is comprised of a Marine Recon unit assigned as part of a carrier battle group. He has seen direct action in both Afghanistan and Iraq, as well as covert activity in other geographic locations around the world. There’s no shortage of trouble spots, Mr. President. This type of assignment can never be openly documented on a military record. Among other decorations, General Connor has a Navy Cross, the citation narrative restricted on a need-to-know basis.

  “Mr. President, on the type of missions General Connor used to command, Marines, SEALS or special operation soldiers who did not come home—the media use the phrase ‘gave their all’—are generally reported as having died in a training exercise. It’s a shadow world, Mr. President. Perhaps that’s why it’s called ‘black ops.’ But in summary, with regard to his current command of Trojan—that’s the team’s designation—once the president designates an action as level ‘Troy,’, someone from his staff is requi
red to go out into the world, find the worst of our enemies, and either kill or capture them. It’s neither pleasant nor easy. And it’s terrible on family life. But I submit, sir, that General Connor is eminently qualified to command Trojan and the men who serve under him. Both President Eastman and President Prescott understood this and trusted him. President Prescott gave him his first star at least five years beyond his normal eligibility year date.

  “Sir, during the intervening years since your last affiliation with a young Pug Connor, a lot has transpired in his life.”

  Pug sat quietly through this resume recital, clearly uncomfortable with the disclosure.

  “Thank you, General Austin,” Snow replied. “Pug, Trojan is quite different from the summer job you had in the law firm, isn’t it?”

  “It’s been a long time since those days, Mr. President. Some days I wish I could go back to that less stressful time.”

  “Don’t we all?” Snow chuckled. “Pug, do you know what President Cumberland’s intentions were with relation to your unit’s continued operation?”

  “No, sir, I don’t. I never met President Cumberland,” Pug said.

  “Understood,” Snow said, his tone taking a more defined edge. “And I suppose you’d like to know what I intend to do with your . . . uh, Office of Public Relations . . . what you call ‘Trojan’.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s our internal designation. I also have a full operational report for you when you’re ready. As General Austin has stated, we do not act without proper authority. Any military action enacted by Trojan requires presidential approval, which we then designate Troy. Within our security network, it’s the next level down from an Executive Order.”

  “I understand. Gentlemen, as I said, I’ve spoken with President Steadman and, more recently, just about an hour ago, with President Prescott,” he said. “She gave me a quick heads-up on Trojan, not much, actually, just a summary. She strongly recommended that I continue the operation, at least until such time as I form my own opinion and judge its worth. General Austin, this morning I also consulted Admiral Barrington, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. I believe you and he served together some years ago, before you retired from the Air Force. He indicated that he thought you might be considering a second, final retirement.”

  “That’s correct, Mr. President,” Austin replied.

  “Is that still your intention?” Snow continued.

  “I’ve not made the final decision, Mr. President. I wanted to see General Connor firmly established in his position and the abrupt changes in the White House . . .”

  “I understand. General Austin, I won’t put you through a long process wondering what’s going to happen. I would request that you defer your final retirement and continue to serve your country.”

  “I serve at your pleasure, Mr. President.”

  “However,” Snow said, “I would like your immediate resignation from the Central Intelligence Agency.”

  Pug quickly shifted his gaze to Austin, who continued to hold eye contact with President Snow.

  “As I said, sir, I serve at your pleasure. You will have my resignation on your desk this afternoon,” General Austin said, his voice a bit more formal.

  “And then I would like you to take a few days off and go out to Wyoming to spend some time in discussions with former Secretary of Homeland Security, Anthony Weyland. You know Secretary Weyland, of course?”

  Austin tilted his head slightly in a questioning mannerism. “Yes, sir. We worked very closely together for several years while he was National Security Advisor to President Eastman.”

  “So I understand. Again, General, it’s not my intention to keep you in the dark. If you serve at my pleasure, as you’ve indicated, then I would like to obtain your approval to put forth your name as my nominee to serve as Secretary of Homeland Security. Secretary Weyland can bring you up to speed on the nomination hearings.”

  “Mr. President, I—”

  Snow held up his hand. “Take this afternoon to think about the issue and we can talk again tomorrow or the next day. I’m moving very fast on these cabinet appointments, with President Steadman’s advice and support, I might add. You come highly recommended by Steadman and Prescott, for that matter. And,” he said, looking toward Pug, “General Austin, as Secretary of Homeland Security, would continue to be your boss, Pug. Although, as President Prescott has advised, I reserve the right to meet with you and, if I determine necessary, provide direction. Is that suitable to you, General Austin?”

  “That would not present a problem, Mr. President. May I assume I would be advised of General Connor’s operational orders if they were to come directly from this office?”

  “Of course,” the president replied. “Effective immediately, consider that Trojan will remain operational. I’ll have a memo to that effect delivered to you shortly to enable you to continue to work with the military assets you require. I don’t want the Pentagon assuming—or hoping—that you’ve been shut down. I informed Admiral Barrington of that yesterday.

  “Pug, I want you to continue to develop the format and mission parameters, and complete your staffing selection. If my intelligence overview is correct, your task force will be needed, and sooner than we would like. Run your written plans past General Austin for his concurrence and then forward them to me. Let’s say, thirty days hence.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pug replied.

  “General Austin, we still have the secession issue out west. You and General Connor are the most familiar with that problem, so Trojan will continue to assume lead responsibilities on the military repercussions of that issue. We can discuss this further at a later date, but my objective is to retain California as part of our family of states, but I do not, I repeat, do not want to use military force to achieve that objective. Are there any questions, gentlemen?”

  Pug deferred as Austin spoke first. “It may not be possible to place a damper on the political actions moving forward. The momentum seems insurmountable without military action, which I agree, is absolutely the last thing we should consider. But, absent political or economic pressure, this secession just may become a reality.”

  “I understand that, General. I hope not, truly, but a military intervention is not morally acceptable. To free the slaves was one thing. To force Californians to follow Washington’s lead is another. But I’d like you both to think about it and see what can be done.”

  The president stood and both men rose. “Pug, it’s great to see you again. Congratulations on your promotion and Trojan’s future. I look forward to working with you.”

  “Thank you for your confidence, Mr. President,” Pug replied.

  “I’ll advise Admiral Barrington of this discussion to confirm that he knows Trojan will remain operative and authorized to call on military resources. By the way, General Austin, the admiral was in complete agreement with your selection as Secretary of Homeland Security. Actually, I haven’t spoken with anyone who opposes the move, but I’ve kept the idea pretty closely held so far. That will change next week. We’ll announce your nomination, along with several others, next Monday in the Rose Garden.”

  “Yes, sir,” Austin said. “I’m certain you’ll find some opposition at that point in time.”

  “We’ll handle the opposition. Well, then, I think that will be all for this initial meeting. Thank you both for coming. General, would you mind if I spoke alone with Pug for a brief moment before he leaves? I’d like him to update me on his parents. ”

  “Certainly, Mr. President. Pug, I’ll meet you over in your office, and you can take me to lunch.”

  “”Why don’t you go to the White House cafeteria? Tell them it’s on my account,” the president said.

  “Thank you, Mr. President. I thought I was coming to a pleasant meeting with the president this morning, and in less than thirty minutes, I’ve lost my current job and added another four years to my working life. My wife is not going to be pleased about that. She was looking forward to a few round-the-world cruises,” he
said.

  Again, the president laughed. “General Austin, have her call my wife. She’s not happy either, I can assure you.”

  President William Snow motioned for Pug to be seated again, then he began to speak. “Pug, General Austin seems a fine man. I can see why you’ve enjoyed working with him these past years. As for you and me, it would seem we’ve just developed a very different relationship. Who would have thought it those long years ago? Are you pleased with your ability to stay with Trojan?”

  “Sir, the assignment presents a rather formidable challenge, but I’ve discovered that I actually enjoy such opportunity. However, I’m a serving Marine officer, and I go where I’m assigned. In some respects, I’d rather be back in the field, commanding Marines.”

  “Yes.” Snow smiled again. “President Prescott mentioned that as well. That goes for most of the young men who comprise Trojan, doesn’t it? You’re all warriors at heart. How did that happen, Pug? The transition, I mean. When you were in high school, you wanted to be a veterinarian, if I recall.”

  Pug leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Wouldn’t that have been good? Sir,” he said, shaking his head slowly, “the change just sort of happened. Probably was assured when my spur-of-the-moment application to the Naval Academy was accepted. I loved my time at the Academy and I love the Marines. But I’ve asked myself that question many times over the years—how did I become something I never thought about growing up? I can’t answer it to my own satisfaction, Mr. President,” Pug said. “I know I was caught up in the prestige of being accepted at the Academy. That decision assured the military component. Then after I was married, Cheryl had problems with who I became, as you probably know. That was the primary source of the difficulty leading to our divorce in ’01. You knew Cheryl Watkins, didn’t you? Her father owned the Ford dealership in Mesa. Well, once we were married, I was just gone on deployment too long and too often, I guess. That wasn’t what Cheryl had bargained for, and it certainly wasn’t her fault. We never had children, and I guess in retrospect that’s a blessing.”