DEAD BEEF (Our Cyber World Book 1) (43 page)

Two hours later, after receiving medical attention, Saleh Fayez, and Julian Rogers would be carried out in handcuffs. Two weeks later, after being charged with just about every anti-terror law on the books, each would plead not guilty. A month after that, a Federal judge scheduled a set of secret hearings. Two months after that, rumors would hit the press that the President of the United States was contemplating issuing pardons, a particularly controversial possibility since the majority of the justification for the pardons was documented with top secret, special compartmented information that few could access.

Chapter 54

Though that day's ceremony would normally take place inside the White House, since at least two of the honorees loved the outdoors and a third, about to receive the highest commendation, loved roses, the president insisted to hold the proceedings in the Rose garden.

“Friends,” the president said to those gathered. “It gives me immeasurable pleasure today to honor six people with whom I've had the honor to toil in the past few weeks to solve one of the toughest threats our nation has faced in recent times. Without financial gain, without immediate support, four of these folks stepped up when their country needed them. We could say the other two were doing their jobs, but they did it with such heart, with such self-sacrifice and with such total abandon of personal safety and comfort as to merit our deepest gratitude. For all six of these Americans — and we'll take care of some administrative stuff in a second to make that statement 100% true. For all six of them we offer today mere tokens of our thankfulness. Yet we know these tokens represent what is best and purest about ourselves and our country. In an age often fraught with uncertainty, hatred and even despair, we cling to these tokens as reminders that we can dream bigger, we can hope brighter, we can love stronger, and we can do greater things to overcome all that ails and assails us.”

Enthusiastic applause erupted. From her seat in the back, with a tense mix of regret and pride, Chana craned her neck to watch the first honoree step up to the podium.

“Now, as I suggested a minute ago we need to take care of some administrative stuff for Sasha Javan. You see, all these folks are receiving today the highest honor I can convey on them as Americans. But with Ms. Javan I ran into a problem. She's not an American citizen. Yet. By executive order I have granted her citizenship... Here's her certificate.” He showed it to the crowd. “So Sasha if you're ready, repeat after me.”

“
I hereby declare, on oath,” the president said.

“
I hereby declare, on oath,” Sasha repeated.

“That I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure...”

“That I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure...”

“All allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state or sovereignty...”

“All allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state or sovereignty...”

“Of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen...”

“Of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen...”

“T
hat I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic...”

It was here that Sasha’s voice faltered, and with a hand she quickly wiped away tears, finally repeating,
“T
hat I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic...”

Sasha’s voice shook as she repeated the rest of the oath, and knowing her Albert Chana noted how his voice, though still ringing with deep and rich baritone intonation, also trembled.

The oath completed, and the president said, “Congratulations, here's a little flag for you.” The crowd laughed. Sasha waved her flag and smiled before shaking hands with the president.

Turning to the crowd, he added, “Now, you need to understand that the reason Ms. Javan is here today is that before she took that oath, before she accepted what it said or would call her to do, she fulfilled it and then exceeded it with her blood and sacrifice, as did her friends who we also honor today.”

The president smiled at the crowd as they applauded. “Today we award Sasha Javan the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her valor and contribution to the preservation of our freedom.”

He pinned the medal on Sasha, and even from afar, Chana could tell that her girl was moved to quiet tears.

Next came Stan Beloski, with the president's acknowledgment of his work as a civil servant and dedication during the recent crisis. Cynthia received similar accolades as a former civil servant who volunteered her time and talents to also face the recent crisis. Her husband and retired former InfoStream CEO had also donated his time, treasure and intellect, playing a key role in the successful resolution of the recent crisis.

Chana was growing a little weary of the repeated use of the phrase “the recent crisis.” She supposed even the best orator would struggle to achieve oratory variety when hamstrung by security and classification restrictions.

“You will notice that my remarks are short and a little vague when speaking about their accomplishments,” the president said as if to address Chana's mental objection. “You see, these folks, in addition to acting courageously and sacrificially, also worked in secret to protect our nation's information and security when most of us were sleeping or going to the grocery store. The two brave soldiers joining me on the podium next also fall into this category.”

Both Ochoa and Ortiz came to the podium, and for each of them the president pinned on a Purple Heart. The president shook Ochoa's hand and came to the podium to say, “No I'm not being rude. I'll shake Captain Ortiz's hand but not before I right an oversight that has persisted for too long. You see, she has done this before, suffering harm and shedding her blood to keep us safe, but did not receive a Purple Heart. Today we seek to undo that oversight by recognizing her valor and selfless sacrifice with a second and long overdue Purple Heart.”

The crowd stood up and applauded. Chana smiled approvingly when she saw Leti's face beam with pride and moisten with tears.

That evening, after meeting with congressional leaders to secure funding for improvements to the national information infrastructure, both civil and military, the president returned to the White House’s residence shortly before 6 PM. Joining him and his wife Marilyn for dinner were the Israeli ambassador and his wife, Chana Bauman. The other six guests whose names he'd honored earlier that day proudly wore their medals.

“I understand you folks partied it up a bit across the street at Ebbitts Grill,” the president said as he took his seat at a modestly appointed dinner table. “I hope you paid the bill, Mr. Spencer.”

“I did,” Martin said. “And it just about broke me, especially these two,” Martin added pointing at Ochoa and Leticia.

“That’s one of the things I learned from my wedding reception,” the president said. “Never offer unlimited drinks to your guests when soldiers are in attendance. And I’m not just talking about cost.”

They all laughed, and Martin thought to himself how good it was to laugh without anything looming or bearing down on him.

“Well, I’m sure glad you two are in good enough a shape to put the hurt on Martin’s wallet,” the president added eyeing Ochoa and Leticia. “For a couple of weeks you had us concerned and praying a lot.”

“Thank you for your prayers, Mr. President,” Leti said in her sweet sing-songy Mexican accent. “God listens when good men and women pray.”

“Yes,” the Israeli ambassador put in. “And he rejoices when good men and women act, and his people’s hearts dance with thankfulness.”

“Simple and powerful words, Mr. Ambassador and Ms. Ortiz,” the president said.

Later, the six medal recipients would try to remember if he had said anything else all evening. They would agree he had not.

“I hope you all got to do some sight-seeing this afternoon?” the president’s wife, Marilyn asked. “A Smithsonian or two perhaps?”

“Sasha wanted to visit the Holocaust Museum,” Martin said. “We all went along.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?” the president said.

“What part struck you the most?” Chana Bauman asked.

“All those shoes,” Leticia said while the others hesitated. “I looked at them and told myself, ‘but there were so many more shoes’. It made me cry.”

Martin nodded. “Yes, that was pretty powerful for me, too,” he said. “But for me it was more about grappling with a nagging question. How can a people be so blind to the evil or careless things their government does? Is it because their government conceals truth or fools them with propaganda? Or is it because even though it’s in plain sight, people don’t know what questions to ask or because it’s just too inconvenient or life shaking to see it much less reject it? Who is responsible when nations do dark, dangerous, hidden things, the government or the people? Both?”

The room grew quiet. Martin half-wished he hadn’t said so much because the silence lingered into the uncomfortable range. Across the table the Israeli ambassador had stopped in mid-chew of a glazed date. With narrowed eyes and tiny repeated bows of the head he regarded Martin with approval.

The president broke the awkward silence, “Robert Odehl once warned me that you think and view the world differently than most of us. I think you just proved him right.”

“Ah, here’s the salad,” Marilyn said with transparent relief that something lighter and less controversial could take their focus. “This is a recipe from my good friend from Georgia, the governor’s wife. Our chef does a fantastic job with it, I think you’ll agree.”

After that, Marilyn guided the conversation along safe paths of idle chat, what they would be doing the next day, since they were all spending a few days in D.C., what other trips they had planned for the rest of the year.

“France, perhaps?” Marilyn threw in, nudging her husband.

And there followed Marilyn’s interminable commentary describing every detail about their meal, which was completely kosher, of course, as certified by a rabbi they had brought in for just the occasion.

Dessert was the best part for Martin not because of the delicious flavor profile, which it featured in spades, but because it signaled the beginning of the end.