Phoenix Rising: (49 page)

.
”

Bryan translated for the others. “I told them that they must allow us to board their vessel. If they resist, they will be sunk.”

The reply from the captain of the
Pashkov
came in English.

“A fishing boat we are, in international waters. It is no right you have to come aboard.”
The voice spoke with a Russian accent.

“As you see, General, he speaks English. You can take it from here.”

“
Pashkov
, we are coming aboard to relieve you of your cargo,” Jake said. “Make no resistance or your boat will be sunk. Commander Jack, are you on this push?”

“You can take over from here.”

“Captain of the
Pashkov,
this is the helicopter on your port side,” Tom said. “Move all of your men to the front of the boat. Stand there with your hands in the air. We are coming aboard. If any of you resist us, we will shoot all of you.”

“We will not resist,”
the heavily accented voice replied.

“Good move,” Tom said. Then to the pilot, “Take us to the rear of the boat, then come to a hover so we can jump down.”

The pilot followed Tom's instructions, moving to the rear of the fishing trawler then holding it in a hover that allowed the door gunner to keep the crew of the boat covered while Tom, Deon, and the rest of his men dropped down onto the rear deck. When all were aboard, the helicopter pulled away.

Tom and the others kept their weapons pointed toward the Russians.

“All right, who was I talking to? Which one of you is the captain?”

“He is Captain,” one of the crewmen said. “To me you were talking because English I can speak.”

“Are you military?”

“No. We are fishermen.”

Tom pointed to the five enclosed tubes. “I suppose those are fishing poles.”

“That is cargo we were to deliver.”

“Cargo? Is that what you are calling it?”

The interpreter said something to the man he had pointed out as the captain of the vessel. The captain spoke, then the interpreter translated.

“We were paid to come to this place and meet the
Gomez
. There we were to transfer the medical cargo.”

“Medical cargo? Is that what you think it is?”

“Yes. As you can see, it has the medical markings.”

“Have you opened one of the containers?”

“We were told not to. There is,” he made a circular motion with his hand, “as in Chernobyl.”

“Radioactive material. You're damn right there is,” Tom said. He spoke into his radio. “
John Paul Jones
, come in.”

“Send a gig over. You can take us and the cargo back.”

Clicking off the radio, Tom walked over to look at the tubes. They did have both medical and radiological markings on them.

“We are taking this with us.”

“No,” the captain said, speaking in English.

“Well now,” Tom said with smile. “So you do speak English. Playing a game with me, were you?”

“I have taken money to deliver this. I cannot let you take it.”

“Looks to me, Captain, like you don't have any choice,” Tom said. “The ship you were supposed to give it to went down. What will you do with this if you take it back?”

The captain and the others spoke among themselves for a moment, speaking in Russian so Tom had no idea what they were saying.

“How much were you paid?” Tom asked.

“Five hundred thousand rubles.”

“That's a lot of money just for delivering radioactive markers for medical use, don't you think?”

“We were told not to ask questions.”

“Commander, the Captain's gig is coming abeam,” one of Tom's men said.

“Captain, I have a solution to your problem,” Tom said. “All you have to do is tell your people that you did deliver your cargo to the
Gomez
. I'm sure that the sinking of the
Gomez
will be world news soon enough. Your people will just assume that the ship went down after you made your delivery. That way, you can keep the money you were given, and nobody need be the wiser.”

The Russian captain spoke to the others, then there were smiles and affirmative nods. The Russian captain, also smiling, spoke to Tom.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, that is a good idea. Shall my men help you load the items?”

Tom returned the smile. “Yes, thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Are you worried that only eight states are sending a delegation?” Karen Lantz asked, as she affixed stars to the collar of her husband's khaki shirt. Although the others had been referring to him as general, it was not until today, that he would actually don the uniform and insignia of a general.

“No, I'm not worried. I think that's a good start, and I believe that as we began to organize, other states will join us,” Jake said easily.

“I'm not so sure,” Karen replied.

“Why aren't you sure?”

“Well, think about it, Jake. They just declared themselves free from one union, why would they want to enter another one?”

“M.A.S.,” Jake said.

“M.A.S.?”

“Mutual assured survival,” Jake said. “If we all band together, it is much less likely that AIRE will be able to do anything.”

“You are probably right. Here you go, General Lantz,” Karen said with a smile as she held the shirt out toward him.

“What do you think about our new uniforms?” Jake asked.

“They are sort of drab, aren't they? Tan?”

“Ha,” Jake said. “Bob said this is exactly like the khaki uniforms he used to wear when he was in the army. He'll probably tear up with nostalgia when he sees me.”

“We're about to find out,” Karen said.

“What do you mean?”

“Here's Bob now.”

Karen answered the door before Bob Varney could ring the bell.

“Hi, Bob, come on in. Want some coffee?”

“By inviting me for coffee, I assume you are telling me that Jake isn't quite ready.”

“Come on, Bob,” Jake said from just inside the house. “I'm a general now. Generals don't have to hurry for anyone.”

“So you mean that even now, when we have the opportunity to start everything all over, we're still going to keep the tradition of Generals being late?” Bob asked with a little chuckle.

“Not for too long. I'm ready now,” Jake said.

“Are we flying over?”

Jake shook his head. “Marc says we need a new pitch change link for the tail rotor, so I called Gary. He's going to run us across the bay in his boat.”

“Good idea.”

“Is Tom Jack going with us?” Jake asked.

“Tom is chomping at the bit, I don't think we can keep him away,” Bob said.

“Tom, Deon, and the others did a good piece of work with that Russian trawler,” Jake said.

“Yes, they did,” Bob said. “Willie and Marcus said the weapons aren't armed, and I guess that makes sense. I don't suppose you would want to take a chance on shipping them while they are armed.”

Jake chuckled. “It's not something I'd want to do. I wonder if that Russian crew actually knew what they were carrying.”

“I don't know,” Bob said. “But they were paid half a million rubles. They had to be a little suspicious.”

“We've got them in one of the casements down at the fort, and we've sealed the casement shut. It's going to take quite an effort to get any of them out,” Jake said.

“Good. I think that by intercepting them, we may well have prevented any more detonations here, and by here, I'm referring to all of what was the USA,” Bob said.

“I believe you are right.”

“Now, the question is, do we let anyone know that we have them? Just having them is a tremendous projection of power, whether we use them or not,” Bob said. “At any rate, I'm not ready to let the secret out, yet. Not even to those who will be joining us.”

“I agree. Besides, look at Israel. They have never acknowledged having nuclear weapons, but everyone knows they do have them,” Jake said.

“Or at least, they think they have them. And so far, that has been just as effective.”

Jake picked up his long narrow cap. “Did you wear this kind of hat?”

“Oh yes,” Bob answered.

“What do you call them?”

Bob smiled. “They are garrison caps. The men had another, not quite so nice a word for them, and I'd rather not say it in front of a lady.”

“Well, aren't you a gentleman?” Karen said. “But I was in the army for six years, there aren't many words I haven't heard.”

“I'm ready if you are,” Jake said as he put the cap on.

“Knock 'em dead,” Karen said as she kissed Jake good-bye.

“You're sure you don't want to come with me?”

“I'm the Secretary of State. We don't have a vice president and that means with President Varney gone, I have to run the country.”

“Oh Lord, we're in trouble now,” Jake teased.

Tom was out front, hitting golf balls, lofting them over the beach and dropping them into the surf.

“Hey, when are we going to organize our first national golf tournament?” Tom asked. “We've got twelve golf courses here, it's not like we don't have a place for it.”

“What about we put you in charge of it?” Bob suggested.

“Fine, as long as I get to play in it. I've always wanted to play in a national tournament. Okay
. .
. it's a little nation
. . .
but it'll still be a national.”

“It may not be all that small after today,” Jake said. “We have nine states meeting to organize.”

“Do you think they will all sign on?” Tom asked.

“I think they are probably predisposed to,” Bob answered. “Otherwise I don't think that many would have responded.”

Bob used his golf cart to drive the three of them across the Fort Morgan Highway to the Gulf Shore Marina. At one time the marina had been very busy, not only as a home base for pleasure craft, but also for deep sea fishing boats. Gary Bryant was the captain of such a boat and he had been an active participant in the Firebase Freedom movement, providing them with fresh fish in the early days of the movement when just surviving was a priority. He had also driven the boat for the assault team that had attacked the first offshore gas rig.

Since fuel was no longer as critical as it had once been, the marina was gradually returning to its original level of business and when Jake, Bob, and Tom walked out onto the pier they saw three boats preparing to go out. One of the boats was Gary's
Red Eye
. He was waiting for them when they arrived.

The men greeted each other, then climbed aboard Gary's boat. One minute later they were speeding across the bay toward Mobile.

The automobile traffic in Mobile had nearly returned to its pre-O days. Vehicular traffic was coming back because three fourths of the cars in Mobile had been converted to run on natural gas which, as the wells were just offshore from Alabama, was in almost unlimited supply. Patriots had also taken control of, and reopened, the oil refineries in Mobile, Pascagoula, Mississippi, and Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Drilling was restarted in the Citronelle Oil Dome just outside Mobile. In addition, the offshore oil rigs just off the coast of Louisiana were once again producing crude oil.

From the port, Jake, Bob, and Tom caught a taxi to the Mobile Civic Center where they saw a huge banner stretched above the doors of the Civic Center.

There were several cars, and many more people milling around out front, some handing out printed material.

“What are they handing out?” Tom asked.

“Copies of the proposed constitution,” Bob said.

“The one you wrote?”

“I can't take credit for all of it,” Bob said. “I'm going to have to share authorship with Thomas Jefferson. All I did was add three amendments.”

Because Jake and Bob had a major role in organizing the convention, they would occupy seats on the dais in the theater. There were two larger areas in the Civic Center, the expo hall and the arena, but they were too large.

“We want enough people that we have a good representation for all the participating states,” Bob pointed out. “But we don't want so many as to make the meeting unwieldy.”

The reconstituted Mobile Symphony Orchestra was playing music, at the moment it was
Claire de Lune
by Debussy. The soothing strains of the music had a calming effect on the gathering delegates.

There were television cameras in the auditorium, and the broadcast was being sent, not only by satellite, but by Internet. It was calculated that as many as twenty million, all across the continent, would watch, some with covert support, others with open antagonism, but all with interest in this event that could change America.

A voice-over intoned the opening of the proceedings.

“From the Civic Center in Mobile, Alabama, we bring you a live broadcast of the United Free America Constitutional Convention.

“Join with us as we take these first steps to lift our battered nation up from the depths of despair to a rebirth of freedom. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Tom Jack.”

Because Bob Varney was President of Pleasure Island and Mobile, it fell upon him to conduct the meeting, and he was introduced, by Tom Jack. Tom smiled, and waited until the applause died before he began speaking.

“One year ago, like many of you who are watching this broadcast, my wife and I were living under the hobnailed boot of oppression. We had our means of making a living taken from us, we had our freedom of religion, and freedom of speech taken from us, we became, literally, prisoners of a society that is certainly the equal, if not even more oppressive, than the Nazi regime of Germany in the last century.

“But we heard about a group of patriots who were defying the evil of Moqaddas Sirata, so we rode our bicycles seven hundred and fifty miles to join this group. When we arrived here, we met men and women who will go down in history, not as founders of a new country, but as saviors of the old, saviors of the nation that we grew up in, loved, and served.

“The man you are about to meet is one of the principals of that movement. He served our country in Vietnam where he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Air Medal with the “V” for valor, the Purple Heart, and the Bronze Star. He is also an accomplished author whose books many of you have read.

“And now, it is my honor and privilege to introduce one of those heroes, the provisional president of United Free America, Robert Varney.”

There was a generous round of applause as Bob stepped up to podium and looked out over the attendees.

At that moment Bob had a sudden flashback to the days of pre-O. Bob had been a novelist, and quite a successful one. He had also been a frequent speaker at writers' conferences all over the country. He was a good and entertaining speaker, and he had fond memories of the writers' workshops. He missed them, as he missed writing, and as he missed the times he and Ellen would go into New York for meetings with his editor or agent.

“My fellow patriots,” he began. “On this day we will make history. As did the founders of the United States so long ago, we offer our support for this movement, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, and to this end we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. In this time and in this place, we will be laying the foundations of a government of freedom, individual liberty, and self-reliance.

“I propose that we, herein assembled, adopt the Constitution of the United States as it stands, but, with these added amendments. And, as I read them off to you, please follow me on the handouts you have received.”

There was a rustle of movement as the delegates picked up their paper to follow along as Bob read.

“Amendment Twenty-nine repeals the twenty-eighth amendment, which allowed naturalized citizens to be elected to the office of President of the United States. It was that amendment that resulted in the disastrous election of Mehdi Ohmshidi, and the subsequent destruction of America.

“Amendment Thirty; public expression of religion—There shall be no law to inhibit the expression of religion in a public place, nor shall anyone be compelled to participate in the public expression thereof.

“Amendment Thirty-one; term limits—The president shall be limited to one six-year term. Members of the House of Representatives are limited to two two-year terms. Members of the Senate are limited to two four-year terms. There shall be no perks provided for members of the government that are not provided for the citizens at large.

Amendment Thirty-two; repeal of Amendment Eighteen—there will be no income tax. There will instead, be a value-added tax on all goods and services. The federal government will be responsible for maintaining the military. States, which can also apply sales tax, will be responsible for police, schools, and roads.