The admiral’s mouth tightened as he glanced over at Dr. Sage who then quickly proceeded to speak for the longtime naval officer.
“General Thompson, while I respect your feelings of honor toward those who choose to live outside of our great American urban centers, the admiral is quite correct in that we are in a time of war and it is a war that requires difficult, but unavoidable choices. It’s a matter of resources. We do not have the personnel to bring security to all areas of the country. You just heard how many soldiers and law enforcement personnel we do have – and it’s simply not enough for a population that easily exceeds 300 million and is spread out over nearly four million square miles. Protocol X ensures we maintain order in the most populace areas by allocating needed food, water, and protection to those people. If we fail to do so, and more attacks take place as happened earlier today, then those cities will once again burn but this time we won’t be able to put out the fires. Everything will be lost, General Thompson. Is that what you want?”
The general had had quite enough of the doctor’s arrogant lectures.
“Tell me, Dr. Sage why are you even here?”
The doctor flinched as his eyes blinked rapidly several times.
“What do you mean, General Thompson? You already know I’m here representing the interests of the President of the United States.”
General Thompson grunted while he also noted how much General Crow was sweating. The Marine general appeared increasingly nervous, something Thompson found both unusual and unsettling.
“But why were you sent? Don’t answer that just yet. I also have another question. Admiral Briggs indicated there has been a considerable attrition rate among local, state, and federal authorities – people going back to their families during a time of terrible conflict is how he put it. Do you agree with that information given to us by Admiral Briggs, Dr. Sage?”
The doctor shifted in his chair as he licked his thin lips, an act which momentarily made him appear more like a lizard than a human being.
“Yes, of course I do. I’ve confirmed them myself. The admiral is correct and, I might add, that attrition rate only makes the need for Protocol X that much greater.”
General Thompson nodded.
“Well of course it does. Seems just about everything coming out of the mouths of so many inside this room today has to do with getting me to sign off on Protocol X. There’s something interesting about those numbers though, Dr. Sage. Something I just noted shortly before making my way to this meeting.”
The doctor’s whispered response dripped venom.
“And what is that, General Thompson?”
“Six years ago, the Environmental Protection Agency had nearly 18,000 staff spread out over ten regional locations across the country. Would you care to tell me how many this same agency, your agency, was budgeted for last year, Dr. Sage?”
The doctor shook his head with a face cracked by a grimaced smile.
“It appears you are intent on telling me, General Thompson so by all means, proceed.”
“Seventy-thousand personnel were re-allocated to the EPA, Dr. Sage. For the last six years your office has been poaching from CIA, NSA, FBI, Secret Service, Homeland Security…it’s been quite a transformation. Even more interesting is that the people you’ve been bringing into the EPA are operational assets. These weren’t paper pushers, lab technicians – they were men and woman with significant field training and experience. They know how to kill, Dr. Sage. So tell me, why have you been militarizing the EPA over the last six years? Why have you been creating your own personal army?”
The doctor scoffed at the accusation, rolling his own eyes while also avoiding the general’s stare.
“I won’t be party to this ridiculous paranoia! I see my presence, my knowledge, and my expertise here are unwelcome. I would remind all of you though that the current condition of Martial Law will not remain in place indefinitely, especially in those areas where order has successfully been restored. The president will return to power, and those who have been found abusing their own authority during this time, will be dealt with as required.”
General Thompson folded his hands in front of him and then leaned forward several inches toward the still seated, Dr. Sage.
“I’m not done asking you questions yet, Doctor.”
Dr. Sage folded his arms across his small chest and chuckled.
“Fine, ask your questions, General Thompson. I have nothing to hide.”
The general responded with a thin smile as the others in the room silently waited to see what the confrontation between the two men would reveal next.
“In addition to your adding tens of thousands of personnel from other agencies to the EPA, you’ve also had EPA agents transferred to the FBI. If one were to assume those new FBI agents were actually still loyal to your EPA that would push your actual EPA personnel numbers to nearly 100,000. That’s quite an army at your disposal, Dr. Sage.”
The doctor was about to object but was silenced when the general lifted his right hand.
“Keep quiet for now, Doctor. There’s more to this puzzle of yours – a lot more.”
The doctor’s narrow shoulders narrowed further as he sat staring at the table in front of him while the muscles of his jaw clenched repeatedly.
“Your EPA is organized into ten regional offices, correct?”
Doctor Sage nodded once but said nothing.
“The initial Race Wars riots originated in Chicago, and then quickly erupted in other urban areas such as Seattle, New York, and especially along the southern border between the United States and Mexico.”
The doctor finally looked up to glare back at the general.
“What’s your point, General Thompson?”
The general took a moment to glance around at the others seated around the table and then over to Tennison who remained standing near the door.
“Is there an EPA office in Chicago, Dr. Sage?”
The doctor shrugged while he again rolled his eyes.
“YES! SO WHAT?”
General Thompson’s eyebrows rose slightly as he regarded the government bureaucrat seated next to him.
“Your personnel file indicates you were the head of the EPA’s Chicago office for three years. Is that correct?”
Dr. Sage slammed the palm of his right hand atop the table.
“I’ll ask again, what is your point, General Thompson? Are you trying to implicate me in the riots that began in Chicago? I wasn’t there! I was in Washington D.C.!”
The general nodded his head.
“Yes, you were. It’s more of a coincidence I suppose and not just the fact the Race Wars started in the very city you oversaw EPA operations from before you joined the president’s administration. While researching your own background, and Chicago, and the EPA, I also discovered the FBI has been arresting local law enforcement officials by the dozens in almost every state across the country just hours after the initial riots began in Chicago. Then I dug a bit further and guess what? Almost every one of the arresting FBI officers were recent transfers from YOUR EPA! Now isn’t that something, Dr. Sage? Why do you suppose those former EPA folks were so motivated to be throwing so many of our local law enforcement officials into jail or just shooting them dead for resisting arrest and using the powers of our Martial Law declaration to do so with impunity? Seems like the attrition rate of so many of our local and state authorities that Admiral Briggs was just speaking of was created by your EPA! Now why do you suppose that is, Doctor?”
Dr. Sage stood up from the table and then pointed down defiantly at the general.
“I have had quite enough of this, General! It appears you have lost all semblance of reality in the haze of your own self-importance! I will report the details of this meeting and your attempted interrogation to the president. I would also remind all of you of your families. Their safety depends on the work you do to restore order and keep whatever remains of this country together. Do right by them as agreed.”
> “That’s fine, Dr. Sage, you tell the president what I know already, and that I intend to know even more very soon. You also remind him to thank whatever god he prays to at night that I have enough soldiers stationed around him to prevent the people from marching into the White House and then dragging his ass right on out of there. And that goes for you too. It’s the military that is keeping our cities safe now, and I’ll be damned if I turn my back on the rest of the country and not try and help them too. You hear me?”
The diminutive doctor was already halfway to the door when he turned to face the general.
“I hear you, General Thompson – loud and clear.”
The general watched Sage move past Tennison. For a half-moment it appeared the two men shared a look, a kind of knowing, but then the doctor disappeared into the hallway and was gone.
Colonel Jordan Pensky, the NSA Director who had until then remained silent, cleared his throat. The general glanced at the forty-nine year old Pensky and nodded to him. Until recently he knew very little about the colonel. Pensky, a man of average build and height with thinning brown hair and myopic eyes that hid behind a pair of thick black-framed glasses struck the general as a typical D.C. political pawn. The importance of his position as head of the nation’s intelligence apparatus didn’t matter. Pensky was little more than an administrative yes man, the kind of man that caused someone like General Reg Thompson to want to throw up.
“What it is, Colonel Pensky?”
Pensky cleared his throat again and then proceeded.
“It is my belief we should proceed with Protocol X, effective immediately. All due respect, General Thompson, but your inability to recognize this fact is cause for reconsideration of your position as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.”
General Thompson looked over at General Crow, wondering again why the Marine remained so silent with a face covered in sweat.
“I appreciate your concern, Colonel Pensky. I hope you appreciate my belief you can shove that concern right up your ass. Protocol X is not an option I am willing to consider – PERIOD. If anyone else wants to try and convince me otherwise, I’d suggest you not.”
“Reg…General Thompson…you need to listen to them. We don’t have the resources to take care of the entire country. We have to pick our spots and then go from there. Food and water is getting scarce. People are afraid. We have a lot of cities back under control right now, but that could change fast. You know that better than most. Protocol X puts a plan in place that ensures the gains we made won’t be lost.”
Thompson stared into General Crow’s eyes and saw something particularly unsettling – fear.
“Thank you for that, General Crow. You and I go way back. I respect your opinion. This time though, I don’t agree with it. My position remains the same. There will be no implementation of Protocol X. We will not abandon millions of people outside of our urban areas. So if no-one else has anything else to add to this meeting that does not include trying to convince me on Protocol X, then this meeting is concluded and you all need to get back to work. You’re dismissed.”
General Crow suddenly stood up. Both his large, black hands were trembling as was his voice when he spoke.
“I won’t do what they want but you got to promise me to keep them safe, sir. Please, keep them safe.”
Thompson was stunned to hear the soldier sounding so weak and frightened.
What the hell is going on?
Each of the corners of General Crow’s eyes were wet with tears as he brought a small handgun to the side of his head and pressed it firmly into the flesh of his right temple. Everyone at the table but General Thompson scrambled backwards, putting as much distance between themselves and the distraught Marine general.
“General Crow, I don’t know what has happened to make you feel like you have no choices left, but please believe me when I say everything will be ok. Put the gun down, General.”
At that moment Hugh Crow was no longer an officer, or a soldier. He was merely a terribly frightened man, a father, and a husband. Crow’s tear-stained eyes held General Thompson’s stare for several seconds before he issued a whispered plea.
“I won’t do what they wanted, Reg. I won’t. But they’ll come for my family. They said they would and I believe them. These people…it’s all they know. Death, murder, destruction…it’s all they know how to do. Keep my family safe, Reg. Let them know their daddy did right in the end. This gun wasn’t for me…it was for you, but I won’t do it. No sir, I won’t let them take the very last of my choice from me. Don’t trust nobody in this place, Reg. Watch yourself. It’s a tomb. All of it. It’s a damn tomb!”
General Thompson’s right hand reached out at the very moment General Crow pulled the trigger.
The single bullet tore through the longtime Marine’s skull and exited the other side in a crimson spray of blood and bone. Hugh Crow was dead before his body crumpled to the Camp David dining room floor.
“My god!”
The shout came from General John Meyers who had until that moment, said nothing during the entire meeting. The sixty-two year old Meyers was a thirty-four year veteran of the United States Air Force noted for being a quietly contemplative and dignified officer who rarely acted without considerable consideration of all potential outcomes. Apparently seeing another member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff suddenly shoot himself in the head had not been an outcome General Meyers had considered. Meyers was meticulously dressed in his dark blue service uniform with a chest emblazoned with various medals noting his multiple wartime service. He kept his grey-brown hair cut short and had a longish and narrow face that, combined with a prominent nose, lent him a distinctively hawkish appearance.
General Thompson ignored General Crow’s body, instead scanning the room for the reactions of the others assembled there.
Unlike General Meyers, Admiral Briggs, Director Bell, and Colonel Pensky appeared only mildly shocked at having just witnessed a suicide of one of the nation’s highest ranking military officers.
Where the hell is Tennison?
The general’s longtime aide had already left the dining room. Seconds later the door opened and Tennison re-emerged with two military medical personnel following close behind. General Thompson turned away from Hugh Crow’s body. He knew Crow was already dead. The general also knew he couldn’t afford to waste any focus on lamenting over that loss.
This was an attempted coup of my authority. That son-of-a-bitch Sage leaves, Crow tries one last time to convince me to go forward with Protocol X, and then offs himself when I refuse. What I need to figure out now is how widespread this conspiracy goes. Who can I trust and who do I need to eliminate?
“Sir, we need to get you back to your office. I’ve already issued a full security alert.”
Tennison had his right hand pushing lightly against the general’s back. Two armed soldiers entered the room and were motioning the others to evacuate the space while the medical response team continued to look over Crow’s corpse.
General Thompson moved two steps forward and then suddenly stopped to look back at the weapon still gripped inside of General Crow’s right hand. The handgun wasn’t military issue but much smaller.
The kind of size that would make concealing it that much easier.
The general shook his head as he watched a dark pool of blood continue to slowly form underneath the Marine officer’s skull.
This gun wasn’t for me…it was for you, but I won’t do it. No sir, I won’t let them take the very last of my choice from me.
General Thompson didn’t yet know who Crow was referring to when he whispered those final words, but he intended to find out, and he already knew the first place he would start that search.
“Get Dr. Sage delivered to me. If he’s already in the air on his way back to D.C., I want that chopper turned around and back here now.”
Tennison opened his mouth, his eyes already indicating confusion over what the general deemed a very simple and straightforward request.
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“That’s an order, soldier! I said get it done – NOW!”
The colonel paused for a second and then turned and abruptly left the room without looking back as more armed soldiers made their way into the dining room while overhead, the sound of yet more military choppers droned on.
20 minutes later…
The general was back inside the intimate confines of the Camp David study staring at a photograph of John Kennedy that hung on the wall behind the desk. General Thompson studied the president’s youthful face and wondered if the young man with the weight of the Free World on his shoulders could have imagined how quickly and how far America would one day fall. The photo had been taken just outside of the study on the large wrap-around porch that dominated the entrance to the main residential building of the presidential retreat. Though his face was smiling, there was sadness in Kennedy’s eyes. Sadness and a hint of foreboding, as if he somehow knew his remaining time was short.
American Survivalist: RACE WARS OMNIBUS: Seasons 1-5 Of An American Survivalist Series... Page 16
