THE WARNING A Novel of America in the Last Days (The End of America Series Book 2)

by John Price

  “But, Doug, by then, the President will be whisked out of the Oval Office, if he was even there when the assault starts.”

  “Yes, Senator, you’re quite correct. We’ve concluded that there’s no easy way to grab the President once an assault starts on the White House complex. He’ll be moved to the basement secured room at the first sign of trouble. Some people have assumed that the President goes to the Situation Room if any hint of danger arises, but that’s not the case. The Situation Room, which is the area of the ground floor of the West Wing where Harry Truman used to bowl, was re-built by W in 2006. It includes massive electronics, ability to communicate with the Pentagon, the NSC and Air Force One, but it’s not an assault-hardened facility. There are even windows in some of the offices attached to the Situation room. No, the President will be found in his basement security room.”

  “I see, so you’re going to secure him there. General, how will these men be uniformed and armed?”

  “We’ve debated that at some length. They are acting for America so they each will be in full U.S. Army battle uniform and gear. Full arms and ammo. In addition, each will carry enough plastic explosive to take out any security door. The men will enter prepared to secure their target.”

  “Let’s discuss that. How do you see this all playing out once the….I think you called him….the target….is reached?”

  “We’ll secure the target. I’ll read him his rights and explain that he is being arrested by citizens for various crimes and misdemeanors. Then, we’ll hold him in captivity for a trial of his peers….a trial under oath with all of the facts. The faked documents, the shootings of Americans, the false flags the President authorized to justify shooting his political enemies, anything else that’s uncovered in the interim….and….I hope it doesn’t come to this….but should the target commit suicide….like in that bunker in Berlin in 1945….we can’t control that….obviously.”

  “I take it that you will carefully document everything? Full video and audio?”

  “Complete. Everything digitally recorded for posterity.”

  “How do you plan to insure that the target is in the White House complex when the assault starts?”

  “Few people’s physical location is more openly known that the President’s. Not only does his office publish his daily schedule, the media all have staff whose primary duty is to track his location at any given time. We’ll plan ahead about fifteen days from a day that he’s scheduled to be in the complex for the entire day, no trips out anywhere, and then work backwards from that date.”

  “Doug, it certainly sounds like you’ve covered everything that needs to be considered, but did….”

  “Not quite, Chuck. The White House has full time federal agents assigned to patrol the roof of the White House, monitoring the two lawns, the fences and adjoining streets, so any ‘jumpers’ can be spotted and dealt with by on the ground agents. We need to distract them. When we breach the fence on the South Lawn we’ll need the full White House security team occupied on the North Lawn, at the gates, focusing on a perceived threat completely on the other side of the complex. That alone will help us move from the breached fence, up the South Lawn and into the West Wing, all without any significant hindrance.”

  “How do you plan to distract them? Will you use other troops north of the White House?”

  “Nope. They would likely be taken out. We plan to use….Senator you should like this….since you’re on record against the use of drones to kill Americans. We’ll put up small drones, five or six of them, just minutes before we breach the fence, using them to blast the two main gates and the gate between the White House and the Eisenhower Executive Office Building west of the White House. As soon as the drones with bombs hit and explode, the White House security forces will rapidly focus in those areas, opposite the complex from the area of our assault. That will start our count-down for the South Lawn fence breach. Bingeddy-bing.”

  “Hopefully, bingeddy-bang. How do you handle control of the drones?”

  “The same way the military does. We’ll launch the drones from a couple miles away, probably from one of the poor areas of DC that the government likes to ignore, and then guide them from a trailer unit. That’ll be the easiest part.”

  “What if they try to bring in Marine One and chopper out the President before you can….I can answer that myself, I think. As I understand your plan, there won’t be enough time to bring in a helicopter once the drones hit and the fence is breached.”

  “That’s right. The White House is a few minutes from both Quantico and Andrews, where they base the choppers. In addition to which White House security is quite unlikely to call in a helicopter into a situation involving aerial launched explosive devices. Too dangerous for the chopper, and certainly too risky to try and lift POTUS off from the White House in Marine One with drones flying around. That won’t happen.”

  “Great job, General. It sounds like we have a much better than even chance of succeeding. Before we leave, though, I just want to confirm that you’re at peace with what will be labeled as treasonous acts, that is, if we fail. We’ve talked all around the “T” word, but we’ve never actually discussed what we are doing in that legal context.”

  Senator, after we met the first time I couldn’t decide whether to turn you in or nominate you for Man of the Year. I’ve wrestled and prayed, and prayed and wrestled. I finally went back to basics. You may not know that I used to teach a course called Basic Principles of Communism at the War College. What I learned from the Communists’ own materials and from their bloody history showed me a basic truth about Communists. That knowledge of the truth is driving my decision to try to remove the President from office.”

  “Yes. And that basic truth is?”

  “Communists never, ever, willingly give up power. They will do anything to stay in power, including the killing of millions of people who oppose them. I finally decided that this President will never walk out of the White House and retire from office. Whether they amend the Constitution’s two term restriction, or do something else, he will never voluntarily leave power. So, Senator, here’s the choice: either accept what the President is doing as a Communist, to ruin America, or alternatively, remove the Communist from the Oval Office before the country is unrecognizable.

  Satisfied at the General’s answer, the Senator said, “The coded offshore bank account that you have been using, General Toussaint, for your planning expenses will be enhanced Monday with sufficient funds to acquire everything you need. All I ask is that you give me a twenty day out alert, for obvious reasons. I know I don’t need to tell you, of all people, General….but….‘loose lips sink ships’. One person could sink our ship. I’m not so concerned about the two of us. Our families would survive our passing. I just don’t want to see loose talk destroy what is probably the one chance we have to save our ship of state. An entire nation is in the balance.”

  61

  Offices of Century Banker Realtors

  New York, NY

  “But while they are aroused,

  I will set out a feast for them and make them drunk,

  so that they shout with laughter— then sleep forever and

  not awake, declares the Lord.” (Jeremiah 51:39 – NIV)

  For big hitter realtors there was no better field of commerce than the Big Apple - New York City. It’s where it’s happening. Century Banker Realtors was the leading commercial realty firm in a city of many large commercial realtors. Melissa Saunders occupied the most prestigious corner office at Century Banker’s Fifth Avenue offices. She enjoyed, every year, sales totaling multiple millions of dollars. Two and half percent of large office leases and towering building sales in the commercial center of the universe added up after a while. Over time Melissa had become so accustomed to earning huge commissions on real estate transactions that when something arose to decrease her estimated income she didn’t take it kindly.

  “Melissa here, Kendall. What?….Of course, it’s Melissa Saunders
….how many Melissas do you know? Here’s the deal, and I’m only going to say this once….Got it?....Once….Ready? Kendall, you can tell that Arab sheik, or whatever his title is that he’s not in Saudi Arabia on this lease. He’s here in New York City. Not out in the sand dunes. So, tell me again, slowly, so I can write this all down…..why is the robed wonder walking away from the lease?”

  Kendall was not a newcomer to New York realtors who yelled to make their point, but, he thought, Melissa is over the top, “Look, Melissa, crank it back a notch, okay? I’m not any happier than you are about this? I could lose over seven hundred thousand in commissions if we can’t make this lease work.”

  “Ken, I’ll lose twice that, as you know. So, which part of agreed deal does this guy not understand? We spent a small gazillion on prepping and presenting this deal. The owner threw in a quarter mill to design the space. And….now….this jerk wants to move higher in the building? Don’t you think we should have known all that before we all spent so much in time and coin?”

  “Look, Melissa, I’m with you on this. This building isn’t a Lego structure with inter-changeable parts and floors. Even if we had forty thousand square feet available twenty plus floors higher, which we don’t, the configuration is different the higher you go. I don’t have to tell you, that with the cut-ins, insets and towers, the floor space at that height is at least thirty percent less than where we had him before this lease blew up.”

  “Kendall, I know all that….Boy, do I know that. I’m looking at the schematics on my PC. There’s no way we can make this work….No way….So, how firm is the Sheik on moving up stairs? Is this, by the way, just about a better view? I can get him a better view over on Park.”

  “Here’s what I was told. They have to stay in central Manhattan. No deviation. They have to be within a few floors, no more than two or three, of the highest buildings on the island. When I asked why....Was it just a view thing….or a prestige thing….or what? All I got back was they just want it, and don’t ask why. I frankly thought was kind of creepy, to be honest about it. I woke up in the middle of the night last night worrying about this, and guess what?”

  “”You had an epiphany?”

  “Maybe. Kind of. I hope not. I had a flashback thought of my neighbor’s cousin in Florida who gave the jet airplane pilot instruction to three of those guys who flew the plane into the World Trade Center. I thought why is the height over Manhattan that important? Then I turned over and went back to sleep.”

  “Kendall. You’re a bundle of joy, you are. Just figure out what we can do to move this guy to a higher floor and make this thing work. I’ve got an offer pending on my new villa in Tuscany that I don’t want to back out of. Got it?”

  62

  Mazah Highway (Route 7)

  Damascus, Syria

  Colonel Vladimir Nikolaevich was not a happy Russian. As the responsible officer for maintaining Russian armaments stored southwest of Damascus he should have been the first person notified of the Iranians’ plans. Instead, when he arrived at the storage facility he was overwhelmed with the large number of troop carriers. There were hundreds of vehicles, possibly as many as five hundred, parked on the roads leading to his covert facility, with one soldier driving each troop carrier. The vehicles, he could quickly discern, were obviously owned by the army of Iran, based on the identifying markings and the Iranian flag on each carrier. Colonel Nikolaevich lost no time in finding the Iranian army officer in charge. Upon pushing for information from the officer he soon learned that he spoke no Russian, nor did he have a translator with him.

  The Colonel contacted Moscow on his secure link line. It took him over an hour, but eventually he was informed, with abject apologies, that the Iranian army vehicles were at the Russian storage site in Syria with the direct approval of the highest authorities in Russia. His Moscow superior officer advised the Colonel that he was to have been notified of the arrival of the carriers a week ago, but someone failed to do so, apologies, apologies. Now, Colonel, he was told, please make appropriate arrangements to store under cover, where possible, all of the carriers for future use. The Colonel was not amused, nor did he feel like accepting anyone’s apologies even his commanding general in Moscow, but, of course, he had no choice. He seriously doubted if his twenty acre covered facility could hold all of the troop carriers. He also knew that if he couldn’t place the carriers under cover at his facility he would have to expeditiously locate space where he could hide the vehicles from satellites. The Colonel suspected that the Americans were using their satellites to detect the mass movement of the troop carriers to his storage facility. The carriers’ forward deployment meant that they were now within a few miles of the border with Israel.

  Though unhappy, the Colonel would nevertheless obey his orders and secure the vehicles as best he could. As he called in his staff to get them busy working on what would undoubtedly take several days, he wondered when he would finally hear from Moscow that his Russian equipment was released to head southwest to Israel, apparently now to be accompanied by hundreds of Iranian army troop carriers. He was just glad that someone else was tasked with providing for housing and food support for the thousands of Russian and Iranian troops which would man the vehicles now under his protection. Someone in Israel, he mused, actually several someones in Israel are going to be very surprised some day to look north and see thousands of heavily armed troops headed their way. They must be fools, the Colonel concluded, to have thought that signing a peace agreement and giving up some of their land would somehow guarantee Israel that the nation was safe from its radical neighbors. Blood will flow, he knew. A lot of blood.

  63

  E Street at its Intersection with West Executive Drive

  Washington, DC

  Motorists on E Street in Washington, DC have a great view up the South Lawn to the gleaming pure white government facility known worldwide as the White House. One vehicle driving on E Street on this sunny afternoon was a Potomac Power and Light repair truck. Its driver pulled up and stopped at the curb on E Street just west of its intersection with West Executive Drive. Three appropriately uniformed power company employees exited their truck and set up traffic barricades, narrowing traffic to just one lane. An employee pulled the manhole cover in E Street and lowered a ladder down into the space beneath the street. At the same time a second truck from the same utility, also manned with three uniformed employees, did exactly the same thing, also on E Street. The second truck’s location was further east on E Street approximately an eighth of a mile from the first truck. Thus the trucks bracketed the south end of the South Lawn.

  Both crews were doing what utility crews do. One worker appeared to be working. One was on his cell phone. The third was directing traffic allowing seven or eight cars at a time around the blockage they had created on E Street. Occasionally a motorist in a hurry would sound his horn. Some gave the universal middle digit message expressing their anger at losing a few seconds on their busy, important schedule. The two men on the two crews who were on their cell phones were also carefully watching their synchronized watches. When the second hand sweep confirmed what the minute and hour hands showed, that it was now two in the afternoon, the two men signaled the workers directing traffic to move their barricades fully across the street, not allowing any further vehicles into the space between the two trucks. There were already a few vehicles along that stretch of the street, which resulted in their being halted for a time. Of the dozen vehicles trapped on E Street by the utility crews, three were auto delivery trucks with canvas sides to protect their cargo. The signage on the trucks revealed that all were from the same BMW auto dealership in Bethesda, Maryland.

  OOMPH! OOMPH! Several distinct sounds of muffled explosions were heard from the direction north of the workers and the stopped vehicles, towards the White House. Smoke began to rise but didn’t appear to be coming from the White House itself, instead coming from the other side, the north side. The utility workers on their cell phones nodded to the workers
directing traffic, who then lifted their barricades and allowed the vehicles that had come to a stop to exit the barricaded area. The utility worker directing traffic at the west truck, near the intersection with West Executive Drive continued barricading any traffic on E Street, motioning for upcoming vehicles to turn around and head west on E Street, not allowing them into the barricaded area.

  The vehicles previously stopped had now exited the blocked section of E Street, with the exception of the three BMW dealership vehicles. They were stopped near the eastern utility truck. The drivers of the three trucks simultaneously pulled off light jackets covering their US Army uniforms and put on battle helmets. Each then dropped his truck into gear and accelerated west on E Street. Immediately before coming to the intersection with West Executive Drive the three drivers wrenched their steering wheels hard to the right. The accelerating trucks jumped up over the curb. The two most westerly trucks were about five feet apart. The most easterly truck was about thirty feet away from the other trucks, as its driver had trouble steering once he jumped the curb. All three trucks drove across the short strip of grass in front of the fence. They violently collided with the metal fence, taking it down and driving onto the South Lawn of the White House.

  The drivers of the three trucks did not notice disturbed grass on the other side of the fence, under which had been buried high impact explosive devices along several feet of the fence. The center truck and the truck to its left were thrown up in the air by the explosions. They toppled to their sides spilling out the men in the trucks, many of whom were now on fire. The force of the explosions killed several of the troops outright. Though the truck to the west had been violently rocked by the explosions, it was spared immediate destruction by its distance from the implanted explosive devices. The driver punched down on the gas hurtling his truck north on the South Lawn towards the West Wing. He saw that the other two troop carriers were torn apart, burning and out of commission. His truck offered the last hope for a successful assault. He needed to get his cargo of fighting men to the southeast windows and doors of the West Wing as quickly as possible. His right foot was flat to the floor.