“Yeah,” Walker said. “Hopefully we aren’t too late.”
“I’ll drive the other Humvee, dad,” Ken said.
“Sounds good, son. Let’s saddle up.”
They got into their vehicles and drove away, the two choppers still burning behind the house.
Chapter 5 – The Plan - Shall Not Be Infringed
“President Simpson, the Attorney General on line one.”
“Okay, I’ll take it,” Simpson said. “Thanks, Stacey.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. President.”
Simpson leaned back in his chair, looking around the Oval Office, heart beating faster. It’s happening again. He leaned forward, picked up the phone receiver, and punched button number one.
“Simpson.”
“Good morning, Mr. President.”
“Good morning, Blake. What’s happening?”
“I just talked to the Chief Justice. We’re going to lose this one. I’m sorry.”
Simpson sighed. “Dammit. They won’t budge?”
“It will be a divided ruling like always,” Blake said. “We need two more justices in our corner.”
“That probably won’t happen,” Simpson said. “Even in my second term, if I get one. God, I hate this gridlock.”
“Maybe we should be working harder to negotiate with Congress,” Blake said.
“We’d have to give up too much,” Simpson said. “You know what they want. They’ll hamstring us even more than we already are.”
“If nobody is completely happy, it’s usually a good negotiation,” Blake said.
“Save it. That’s the way we’ve been working for years. There’s no pressure on Congress from the people, and the opposition party knows it.”
“I know it’s not easy,” Blake said, “but you can’t just give up.”
“I gave up on negotiations with those luddites nearly a year ago,” Simpson said. “After we lost the midterms.”
“Should have pushed certain things through faster when you had the house majority,” Blake said. “Like gun control and immigration. We spent too much time on healthcare.”
“Don’t lecture me,” Simpson said, feeling his blood pressure rise. He struggled to calm himself, wiping sweat off his brow. “Sorry, Blake. I’m just frustrated.”
“I didn’t mean to over-step,” Blake said.
“You didn’t,” Simpson said. “They’re knocking all of it down?”
“You put it into one package,” Blake said. “They’re knocking out the entire Executive Order.”
“They aren’t worried about how fractured things have gotten? How polarized we are? It wouldn’t take much to touch things off, and then we’ll have millions of armed citizens ready to shoot at each other. Maybe they’ll even try to fight us.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Blake said. “Yeah, there’s a lot of guns in the hands of the citizenry, but most of these folks just want to be left alone. Hell, the most vehement of them are retired folks. Not that much of a threat.”
“You want a couple million old codgers aiming guns at the government?” Blake asked, feeling his heart race again.
“That’ll never happen,” Blake said. “We’d have to do something beyond the pale to cause that kind of reaction.”
“You mean like gun confiscation?” Simpson asked. “I know better than that. We need to chip away faster, though. Not take away the guns, but take away the ability to use them.”
“That still violates the intent of the Second Amendment,” Blake said. “Even if we do it slowly.”
Simpson sighed. “You’re right. We need to figure out a way to make the people think our ideas will help them. That’s the real trick.”
“Hard to do,” Blake said. “We may have to wait a little longer. Give the schools more time to change mindsets.”
“That will take decades, if it ever works at all,” Simpson said. “C’mon, you know that. We can’t stop parents from talking to their kids.”
“You’ve got a point, but it’s still been worth it,” Blake said. “It’s done wonders. Look at the social progress we’ve made. Religious people no longer dare to raise objections about anything. Changing minds in the school system works.”
“Only social conservatives care,” Simpson said, “and they’re dying out. Most secular people don’t care, so I wouldn’t chalk up our success only to the long-term education strategy. It’s the natural progression for us to become more civilized, more open, and less violent.”
“I wouldn’t play up that kind of angle, especially on guns.”
“Yeah, I know,” Simpson said. “Are there things we can pull out of the executive order that would make it more likely to pass muster with these guys?”
“Not that you’d agree to,” Blake said. “It might pass if we got rid of the right to sue gun manufacturers, and the requirement for background checks on ammo.”
“Those are the two most important parts of the order,” Simpson said.
“It would still leave us with the Smart Gun mandate, but we’d have to put a long timetable on it. We’d lose the retrofit requirement for existing guns too.”
“That would be a disaster,” Simpson said.
“Not completely,” Blake said. “We’d get the federal registry. We’ve been trying to get that for years.”
“We’ve had that almost fully in place for years,” Simpson said. “All we’d be doing is bringing it out into the open.”
“We only have a partial implementation,” Blake said. “You know there are still quite a few states that won’t forward the information.”
“We need to work harder on the governor races in the next election,” Simpson said. “You didn’t mention the no-fly list.”
“That’s the other thing I wanted to bring up. It’s the only part that even the liberal justices have a problem with.”
“Why? They really think that’s a bad idea?” Simpson asked.
“By itself, no,” Blake said. “The House and Senate leadership went to the court and had a chat about it.”
“Wonderful,” Simpson said. “What’d they have to say?”
“They said if you press it, they’ll pass legislation that would require due process to get onto the no-fly list. The ACLU has been working that in congress, along with the luddites. The leadership thinks they have a veto-proof majority on this one.”
Simpson was quiet for a moment, thinking.
“You okay, sir?” Blake asked.
“We don’t want to pursue that,” Simpson said. “Being able to build that list without red tape or congressional and judicial review is too valuable to lose.”
“So we just withdraw the whole thing?”
The President stood up and sighed. “Yeah, we don’t have a choice. Let’s spin this, though. We pulled it back, to work on it with members of Congress.”
Blake laughed. “You won’t, though, will you?”
“Hell no. What good would that do?”
“None, until we can win more seats,” Blake said.
“We need something to wake the people up,” Simpson said. “We’re falling too far behind. The UN and the other first-world powers are getting really tired of our 18th century sovereignty nonsense. They want to move forward on the initial parts of global governance as soon as possible.”
“How about that Belgian guy?” Blake asked. “He’s been building on Alinsky’s work, remember?”
“Daan Mertins?” Simpson asked.
“He has some good ideas,” Blake said. “You should schedule some time with him.”
“I knew his dad, and read some of his stuff,” Simpson said. “I think he’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
Simpson chuckled. “He advocates staging mayhem to scare people into thinking a certain way. Doesn’t seem to mind that some people will get killed. It’s basically terrorism by the state. That doesn’t bother you?”
“The needs of the many trump the needs of the few,” Blake said.
; Simpson shook his head. “C’mon, man, you know what would happen to us if we got caught doing something like he suggests.”
“Well, you’re looking for a way to break the log jam we’ve got. It’s at least worth talking about.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll meet with him,” Simpson said. “Schedule it for next week if you can. Coordinate it with Stacey, but remember I have a trip to Asia starting next Friday.”
“Will do,” Blake said. “Talk to you soon.”
Simpson put the receiver back on the cradle. “I’m off the phone, Stacey.”
Chapter 6 – The Plan - Venezuela and Mexico
Stacey walked into the Oval Office and got the President’s attention. He set down the package of documents he was looking at and looked at her.
“What’s up, Stacey?” he asked.
“You want to talk to the Mexican ambassador? He’s been waiting for half an hour.”
“Was he on the schedule?”
“No, this was last minute,” Stacey said. “Something about Venezuela.”
“Send him in,” Simpson said, “and bring us coffee too.”
“Will do, sir,” she said.
Simpson got up and walked to the window behind his desk, looking out over the lawn. It was dusk, lights starting to come on around the grounds.
“Mr. President?”
“Roberto, how are you?” Simpson asked, turning towards him.
“I’m fine, Mr. President,” he said. Simpson walked over and gave him a warm handshake.
“Have a seat,” Simpson said, motioning to the right-hand couch.
“Thank you, sir,” Roberto said. He sat, watching Simpson as he took the left-hand couch, facing him.
“What’s on your mind?” Simpson asked.
“Venezuela,” Roberto said. “We’re being infiltrated by their intelligence service. Our computer systems were hacked last night, and now several people are missing.”
“What kind of people?” Simpson asked.
“Secret service,” Roberto said. “Two of them are on the President’s personal detail. This is very distressing.”
Simpson was silent for a moment. “Who else?”
“Several high-ranking military leaders. The Secretary of the Treasury. Assistant to the Chairman of CISEN, our Central Intelligence Agency.”
“Are these more drug cartel kidnappings?” Simpson asked, rubbing his forehead.
“We don’t think so,” Roberto said. “There’s been no ransom demands, for one thing. Also no statements.”
“Statements?”
“Warning statements, like beheaded bodies. You know. You’ve seen it in the past.”
“Yes, of course,” Simson said. “You’re expecting a coup.”
“Yes,” Roberto said. “That is what we fear.”
“Would you like some help from the US? Investigations? Protection?”
“Yes, but it has to be low profile,” Roberto said. “Our President has taken political hits due to the last iteration of trade agreements. The opposition is using his cooperation with your administration for the upcoming election.”
“Okay, off the record, what do you think is going on?” Simpson asked. “We’ve known each other for a long time. We can trust each other.”
Roberto sat quietly for a few moments, sweat breaking out on his brow.
“Something wrong?” Simpson asked.
“Is the US Government working with Venezuela?” he asked, a pained look on his face.
“Absolutely not,” Simpson said. “Obviously you’ve seen something that makes you suspicious. What is it?”
“We see evidence of UN involvement,” Roberto said.
“What kind of evidence?”
“Our sources tell us that the hack was done by a person who’s worked with the UN before,” Roberto said. “You’re saying you aren’t involved?”
“Not that I know of,” Simpson said, “but I’ll check into it. There are a lot of operations going on in our intelligence community at any given time. They might be doing something that appears to show involvement, even if we aren’t really involved.”
“Appears?”
“Yes, Roberto,” Simpson said. “Only appears. I’d know if we were truly involved in a Venezuelan coup attempt.”
“Would you tell me if that was the case?” he asked. “Sorry, I had to ask.”
“Mexico is a closer ally of the United States than Venezuela is. You know that. You’re right on our border, and we’ve been cooperating on everything over the last hundred years.”
“Your political views differ from the current Mexican Administration much more than they differ from the current Venezuelan Administration,” Roberto said.
“That may be true, but the relationship between Mexico and the United States transcends any one administration. It’s an unwritten law.”
“Yes of course,” Roberto said. “I’ll relay that message to our President.” He got up off the couch.
“That’s all?” Simpson asked. “Nothing I can do for you?”
“You’ve reassured me. That’s enough, Mr. President. Thank you. Peace be with you.”
They shook hands, and Roberto left the Oval Office. Simpson stood for a moment, watching the door.
Stacey came in, eyeing him. “Sir, are you finished for the day?”
“Yeah, I’m going to the residence in a few minutes,” he said. “How did Roberto look while he was waiting?”
“Scared,” Stacey said. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Simpson said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
Chapter 7 – The Plan - Logistics
Mr. President, the Attorney General is here for the 1:00,” Stacey said.
“I’m ready,” Simpson said.
“Mr. President,” Blake said, extending his hand as he walked in. He was a large black man, taller by half a head than President Simpson.
“Blake, how are you?”
“Very good, Mr. President.”
“Let’s sit on the couches,” Simpson said. They sat across from each other.
“You want to talk about meeting with Mertins?” Simpson asked.
“Yes,” Blake said.
“When will it be?”
“Stacey told me that Tuesday works. We’re going to need the entire day.”
“Why?” Simpson asked.
“We have to do it someplace other than here,” Blake said. “You don’t want him on the register.”
Simpson was quiet for a moment. “I don’t like this. Where do you suggest?”
“California,” Blake said. “We’re trying to get a secure location set up at one of the airports. You can meet on the tarmac, in Air Force One. Mertins is going to be there for a meeting with Governor Sable. That covers the reason for him being here.”
“That’s a lot of time for something that probably will go nowhere.”
“I wanted to do it in New York,” Blake said. “It’s far enough away, but there were problems.”
“What problems?”
“He’s wanted in New York,” Blake said.
“What?”
“I didn’t know until the Secret Service put me in touch with the FBI Director,” Blake said.
“What’s he wanted for?”
“There’s allegations that he had relations with a sixteen-year-old girl,” Blake said. “At a party in Manhattan. We don’t know if it’s true or not. We think there’s some profiteering going on.”
“You kept it out of the press?”
“It was before our time,” Blake said. “Our predecessors quashed the story and paid off the victim’s family, but they couldn’t get the New York Prosecutor’s Office to back down. The warrant remains open.”
“I think I understand what’s going on here.”
“Let’s just say it was a gesture towards the founder of the EU,” Blake said.
“That’s what I thought,” Simpson said. “Daan’s father. Crazy Europe
ans. Don’t they know what the age of consent is over here?”
“The age of consent in Belgium does happen to be sixteen,” Blake said, “but like I said, we aren’t even sure he did it. The victim’s family is associated with a known rival of the Mertins family. And get this. The rivalry began back in the 1530s.”
Simpson chuckled. “If only the people of the EU knew how close to feudalism they still are.”
“Seriously,” Blake said. “Saw a picture of the girl. She looks about twenty-two.”
“Okay, so we don’t want to bring him here and give any ammo to the other side,” Simpson said. “If it were my decision I wouldn’t worry about it.”
There was a pause, as Blake got ready to say something. He broke out into a sweat.
“The problem isn’t just Mertins, Mr. President.”
“Yeah, it’s written all over your face,” Simpson said. “I may decide not to go along with this. What’s the other problem?”
“Mertins says his suggestion would require help from another wanted person,” Blake said. “He wants to bring him along so we can have a full discussion.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Well, are you going to tell me who you’re talking about?” Simpson snapped.
“Sorry, sir,” Blake said. “It’s Saladin.”
Simpson’s eyes grew wide. “The terrorist?”
“He’s not really a terrorist,” Blake said. “Not anymore, anyway. He sees the value in global governance, and has been working with the EU to help that cause. He sees it as the only way to solve the social and economic justice issues between the first and third worlds.”
“We have some common ground there, I guess,” Simpson said. “If this gets out, it’ll sink us. You know that, right?”
“Yes, we’re well aware of that,” Blake said. “Governor Sable will be involved. He thinks he can keep everybody away from the site while the meeting is going on, and provide cover for you being there.”
“That pipsqueak is going to be there too, isn’t he?” Simpson asked.
“Yes,” Blake said. “Sorry, I know you still have some hard feelings about the primary battle with him.”
Simpson sighed. “We’ve officially made peace, remember? I’ll behave.”
“He’s providing good cover for Mertins being here, at least,” Blake said.
The Plan: How the Bug Out! War Began Page 3
