Out of Crisis

by Richard Caldwell

  Then, nothing.

  …

  Charles Crum wrapped a muscled arm around Arturo’s neck, catching him not so gently as his knees buckled and he crumpled toward the ground, a trickle of blood leaking from inside his ear.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Stakley,” Charles said as he dragged Arturo’s limp body toward the van’s cargo door.

  From the driver’s seat, Hector saw the split-second scene unfold in the rearview mirror. Knowing in a heartbeat that things had gone horribly wrong, he bolted out of the van to go to Arturo’s aid.

  Small holes appeared between Hector’s thick black eyebrows as two subsonic twenty-two-caliber bullets punched their way through bone and into his brainstem, causing flaccid paralysis and instant death.

  The pops from the pistol in Lawrence’s hand were barely audible. That is precisely why those who have to perform close-up wet work‍‍—on either side of the law‍—favor subsonic ammunition.

  “Mrs. Stakley, please turn around and walk to your car,” Charles said in an even but commanding voice. “Don’t look back. The less you see, the better. Get in your car, lock the doors, and start the engine. Wait five minutes, then pull out as you usually would and go about your business. Mr. Smith and I have a little cleanup to do, but we’ll be finished and have you covered by the time you leave. Don’t say anything to anyone about what you’ve seen. Except for Mr. Stakely, of course. He will get a full report by the end of the day.”

  A slightly delayed fight-or-flight reaction sent wave after wave of nauseating fear washing over Kelly as she realized what had just happened. Her hand shook violently as she struggled to open her car door. Once inside, she grabbed the steering wheel, trying to regain self-control. The physical reaction lasted only a few seconds before another, more cerebral fear kicked in.

  “He can’t tell David,” Kelly murmured to herself. “That’ll derail everything.” Kelly opened the car door and scurried back to the van.

  Charles was just sliding the side door closed when he saw her. “Mrs. Stakley, please get back in your car. We have to get out of here.”

  Although visibly shaken, Kelly was rapidly regaining her composure, focusing on another objective.

  “Mr. Crum, you can’t say anything to David! Not now! I know him better than anyone alive, and I know exactly what his reaction will be. If he thinks for a second that someone tried to hurt me, he’ll renounce his candidacy.”

  Charles reached forward, gingerly grasped Kelly’s shoulders, and started steering her back toward her Prius. “Please, Mrs. Stakley, we’ve got to leave and leave now. I hear what you’re saying, but I have to make a report.”

  Quickly scanning the parking lot and assuming a casual air, Charles kept talking as he ushered Kelly back to her car. “Get in and plug the secure phone I gave you into the USB port. Start the engine. This will launch a modified version of Apple CarPlay. Then leave, driving slow and safe, like nothing happened. As soon as I get back to our vehicle, I’ll call Mr. Ballard, explain what happened, pass along your request, and ask him to call you ASAP. That’s the best I can do, Mrs. Stakley. Now, we’ve got to go.”

  Gaining some degree of composure, Kelly slid into the driver’s seat and fumbled with her purse before dragging out the Blackwater phone. “I’m sorry I lost it, Mr. Crum. I’m OK now,” she said firmly as she connected the phone to one of the Prius’s USB ports and started the engine. “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Charles replied as he closed the car door and started toward the Tahoe, which Lawrence was pulling out of its parking space.

  Minutes later, as Kelly maneuvered down Clopper Road, the phone rang through the car’s speaker system. Pressing a button on the steering wheel, Kelly blurted, “Judson, is that you?”

  “Yes, Kelly, it’s me. I just got off the phone with your security team leader. He explained what happened and your request not to tell David, or at least to keep a lid on it for the time being.”

  “Judson, we have to. Like I told Mr. Crum, if David hears what happened, he’ll drop out of the race. When it comes to himself, he’s the bravest person I have ever known. But if he thinks for one second that I am in any real danger, he’ll flip out. Besides, it doesn’t matter. It’s over. Nothing happened. Well, not to me anyway. It will serve no purpose to tell him anything. At least not now. After the election, I’ll confess.” Kelly clenched the steering wheel, consciously trying to control her post-traumatic jitters.

  “I agree with you, Kelly,” Judson unexpectedly concurred. “What neither you nor David knew was that over the last few days, our sources picked up some underground chatter that had us spooked. Nothing specific as it relates to how or when, but more than enough for us to up our game. I’m sure you didn’t pick up on it, but we actually doubled the number of spooks on your security team.

  “We also have reason to believe that Jim Phillips is somehow involved. Again, nothing in concrete, just some troubling correlations.”

  Kelly smacked the steering wheel with her right hand. “Shit! David can’t stand the guy, but it never occurred to me that he would sink to this level.”

  “Well, like I said, we don’t have anything we can build a case on. Just rumblings. But still . . . OK, back to your suggestion. Let’s do this. I will send you today’s security report via encrypted email. You hold on to it until you are comfortable sharing it with David. Just give me a heads-up before you do. I don’t want to be blindsided if he doesn’t like the fact that we hid it from him.”

  “Thank you, Judson. I’ll tell him the day following the election, as soon as the results are in, one way or the other. Oh, and don’t worry about how he’ll take it. He would do the same thing if he were in your shoes. Now that I have that worry behind me, I need to get to the market. Thank you again, Judson. We’re doing what’s best for David. And for the cause.”

  40

  The Farm

  The end of the Stakley-Lopez campaign strategy session, eighteen months before the day of

  Exactly fifteen minutes after Milt announced a break in the presentation summarizing the party platform and objectives, everyone was back in their seats.

  “Ready to go, David?” Milt asked.

  David nodded, and Milt returned to the right-hand side of the monitor.

  “What you’ve seen this morning is an assemblage of concepts that we’ve been working on to some degree for years. During the past several months, we used them to develop the framework of a strategy and a long-range plan that will take our country, its people, and our government from being the greatest nation on earth to a new, previously unimaginable level. There simply aren’t words for it. We may have to add to the inflection of ‘good.’ Maybe good, better, best, ‘besteriest.’

  A few smiles and a smattering of laughter rippled across the room.

  “OK, I get it,” Milt quipped. “I’ll stick to politics and constitutional law. I don’t want to put any comedians out of a job.”

  That self-deprecating jab resulted in a round of applause.

  “But speaking of constitutional law, I want to wrap up this morning’s discussion and lead into David’s remarks by making what I believe is a crucial caveat surrounding our campaign strategy. Despite the healing balm that our late president, Matthew Sheppard, was able to spread over Washington, DC, I see no way for David Stakley and our party to overcome the bipartisan bickering and self-serving politicians in a manner that will allow the amendments we have presented to be passed. It’s simply not going to happen in the current political environment. Not even in two terms of office.

  “The route used to pass the existing twenty-seven amendments‍—a two-thirds vote in each chamber of Congress and subsequent ratification by three-fourths of the states‍—is virtually impossible.

  “The other way is by calling for a constitutional convention. We’ve only had one in the entire history of our country, and that was in 1787. Toda
y, since we have an existing constitution, we could call for a convention as specified under its Article Five. This has never been done. And in my opinion, the only thing that will bring such a gathering about is a direct military assault on the United States or a disaster, natural or manmade, of biblical proportions.”

  Milt paused and looked around the room. There wasn’t a sound as everyone reflected on the magnitude of what he had just said.

  Nelson Teal raised his hand and broke the silence: “Milt, you’re a damn good attorney and a nationally known expert on constitutional law. A lot of the people in the room may have heard of this type of convention, but few if any of us really understand its significance. Maybe you could give us a Campbell’s Soup overview. And by that, I mean condensed, short, and as sweet as you can make it.”

  “Ah, thank you, Nelson. Never use four words when two will do. You know, you’d starve as a lawyer. But yes, you have a valid point. As specified in Article Five, a constitutional convention can be called if two-thirds of state legislatures‍—that’s thirty-four states—apply for amendments. Their applications remain in effect unless they are rescinded.

  “Over the years, there have been numerous campaigns to call for an Article Five convention over issues such as the Balanced Budget Act and term limits. Currently, there are twenty-eight states with existing Article Five applications, just six away from the required thirty-four, but that’s a big six.

  “I firmly believe that it’s going to take an Article Five convention to make the changes we’ve presented today. I’m also convinced that it’ll be a monumental task to bring the other states on board. Not impossible, but not easy, even with our group’s leadership and influence. Especially for those western holdouts, California, Oregon, and Washington and a couple of their eastern counterparts, like New York and Virginia.

  “There are those—and I’m one of them—who say an Article Five convention could be a dangerous process. Our constitution isn’t perfect. That’s why we have twenty-seven amendments today. However, it has served us pretty darn well for over two hundred years. An uncontrolled convention could change all of that and threaten our fundamental rights and freedoms.

  “The biggest problem is a constitutional convention has no rules. Even how states would choose delegates and thus how our citizens would be represented isn’t specified. The list of potential problems goes on.

  “So we find ourselves in a dilemma. To effect the changes we envision will require an Article Five convention, but that process itself could be like a runaway nuclear reactor and result in a constitutional meltdown. Like so many things, it all boils down to leadership. We need to develop a clearly defined set of rules, have those rules ratified, and then, and only then, proceed.

  “Equally important, we should only go down that road after we have the leadership in place to keep us out of the metaphorical ditch. And I believe‍—no, I know‍—that leadership comes in the form of David Stakley and Mia Lopez.”

  The room resounded with applause and shouts of agreement.

  Raising his hands to acknowledge the ovation and to restore order, Milt continued: “Now, David will wrap things up by describing a couple of the initiatives that are dependent on the changes we are going to work toward. David.”

  David strode forward and, with a beaming smile, shook Milt’s hand. “Thank you, Milt.” He faced the delegates. “And I thank each and every person in this room for your participation and support, even if today was your first day here at the Farm. It’s been an intense but staggeringly productive week.

  “I have the honor of closing this week’s campaign strategy session. But I feel obligated to remind each of you of what you already know. This is just the beginning of a long, uphill struggle. Now it’s up to us, Envision-2100, and our fledgling Centrist Party to coalesce around what we laid out today. We’ve got to mount a ‘get out the vote’ crusade like this country has never seen, keeping in mind, this will be a marathon, not a sprint. The voter will be our salvation.

  “However, there is a dichotomy to what I just said. On one hand, the average American citizen is where we should find our greatest strength. Conversely, therein lies the fundamental weakness that is plaguing our country: political and historical ignorance and raging voter apathy. These are the festering, malignant issues that our recommended modifications to the Fourteenth Amendment will change.

  “Citizenship, or at least US citizenship, has all but lost its luster. It no longer means anything to the average Walmart shopper. We have an entire generation, more than one, who have never voted. People who can’t name the attorney general, or give you a blank stare when you talk about the Soviet Union or the Berlin Wall.

  “Our redesigned and updated Fourteenth Amendment will bring the ideal of citizenship back to life. It will be something to strive for. A goal. Obtaining it will be an achievement.

  “The reward from such a change can’t be overstated. You will have a sense of pride in having served your country. And you will have a more significant say in how your government operates.

  “Today most of our citizens, regardless of their party affiliation, have a feeling of bureaucratic helplessness. And that helplessness breeds a sensation of hopelessness. It becomes a cycle that feeds upon itself. It grows and spreads like an infection. It’s killing the spirit that made the United States the greatest nation on earth. We’ve got to stop it before we find ourselves slipping down the slope toward mediocrity. The one-two combination of our Fourteenth Amendment change and the implementation of term limits will be the first and most crucial step in that direction.

  “Legal residents—I’ll get to legal versus illegal immigration in a few minutes‍—legal residents who chose not to pursue citizenship will still enjoy most of the rights and privileges, just not all of them. Like the right to vote, or bear arms, or hold federal office. And there may well be tax advantages afforded our citizens. We will have to see how that shakes out legally.

  “It will take time for some of these changes to work their way into our population. For example, everyone born before the change becomes law will be grandfathered in as a citizen. Those born on or after that date must meet the service-and-testing requirements. We’ve got to start somewhere.

  “This brings me to the point I want to make about immigration. We must make a distinction between legal and illegal immigration. We have long had a serious problem with illegal immigration. We wholeheartedly welcome those who enter our country legally, and especially those who, after doing so, seek citizenship. We cannot and will not tolerate those who enter illegally.

  “A logical and appropriate question may be, How will the constitutional changes we are proposing stop the flow of illegal immigrants when every effort we have tried in the past has failed so miserably? Not only have they failed, but they’ve wasted billions of taxpayer dollars doing so. The eyesore of a partially completed wall along our southern border is a perfect example of this folly.

  “Immediately after making the Fourteenth Amendment change, we will enact a federal law that requires every human in the United States, regardless of age or mental status, to be issued a federal ID. This FID will be based on a unique DNA sequence that will be encrypted and blockchain protected. The FID will identify its bearer as being a legal resident, or a citizen, or a visitor slash tourist, or a visitor with a work permit such as an H-1B or an H-2A, et cetera.

  “‘So what?’ you might say. ‘You’ve got an FID. How will that eliminate illegal residence?’ This same law will require that you have an FID to get a job of any kind, to receive any nonemergent healthcare or medical treatment, to get a driver’s license, to vote, or even to purchase, own, or lease real property, such as a house or car. You will also have to provide your FID to travel by plane, bus, train, or any public transportation. And we’ve already stated that you must be a citizen to possess a firearm.

  “Oh, and perhaps most importantly, you will need an FID to rec
eive any government assistance of any kind, period.

  “I’ll use that last statement to wrap things up. More to come, but for now, go back to your districts, ignite your local voter-registration movements, but be positive.” David was amped up by his own enthusiasm. He swept his gaze around the room, managing to lock eyes with each person sitting around the table. “Even though one side can’t field a single viable candidate, and the other, thanks to our late, great president Sheppard, has been body-slammed to the bottom of the polls, don’t trash-talk either party. We’re going to run a clean campaign, let the facts speak for themselves, and, by God, we’re gonna win this thing.”

  The applause was deafening as everyone in the room shot to their feet.

  Beaming, David raised both fists high above his head.

  …

  The copter flight back to Germantown was smooth and amazingly quick as the pilot, wanting to show off a bit for David, pushed the AW160 to just a few knots below its max speed. David and Mia, at the insistence of the Blackwater team, flew back on separate aircraft. This was standard procedure for officially designated candidates and senior members of the executive branch.

  After the copter touched down, David reached forward and shook the pilot’s hand, saying, “This thing’s amazing, and so are your flying skills. But I thought you were going to peel the paint off those last few miles.”

  As soon as the copilot slid the passenger door open, David climbed out, shook his hand, and trotted toward Kelly, who was waiting a safe distance away from the still-whirling blades.

  “Welcome home, baby—I mean, Mr. President. How was the retreat?”

  “Unbelievable. I’m pumped! You look incredible. How did things go here?”

  “Oh, just a typical day in the life of a wife in the presidential-candidate fast lane. I’m sure nothing near as interesting as what you’ve been doing.”

  David shot her a quizzical tell-me-more look as they entered the house.