Uncivil Liberties (44 page)

Authors: Gordon Ryan

BOOK: Uncivil Liberties

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Eisenhower Executive Office Building
Office of Information & Public Relations
Department of Homeland Security
Washington, D.C.
August

At 12:05, EST, three hours ahead of Las Vegas, Carlos Castro strode briskly down the hall toward the office of General Pug Connor, ignoring the general’s secretary and entering Connor’s office without knocking. Connor glanced up, a surprised look on his face.

“General, I’ve just received a FedEx package you need to see.”

“From who?”

“No name, General, and probably a false address. But as sure as I’m standing here, it came from Wolff.”

Connor reached for the folder Carlos placed on his desk. “Summarize,” he said.

“He’s given us everything we need on Harford—dates, places, the Kansas City and San Antonio terrorist events, even the Internet contact methods with the roving shooters. Nothing admissible in court, but he’s given Harford to us on a silver platter. He even names the Secretary of Defense, Acting Secretary of Homeland Security, and several Army generals who were part of the conspiracy to pass the Domestic Tranquility Act and select SI as the contractor. He doesn’t say they all knew about the shooters, or SI’s involvement, but they were paid under the table to support SI and passage of the bill. A dozen or more congressmen, also.”

Connor stood and stepped around his desk, taking a seat in front and motioning for Carlos to be seated. “Not legally enforceable, you say?”

“No, sir. DOJ couldn’t take this to court, and given the political involvement, I don’t think the president would want to. But from an intelligence perspective, everything fits.” He paused for a moment. “I’m afraid that’s not all, General. He’s indicated there will be another event today in. . .” Carlos glanced at his watch, “. . . twenty-four minutes.”

“Did he say where?”

“No, sir, he just said 12.30 Washington time. That probably means it’s in some other time zone.”

“Did he give any indication of a nuclear device being in the country?”

“No, sir.”

“Recommendations?”

“General, the FedEx package originated in Las Vegas. If we called Air Force security at Nellis—”

“He’s long gone,” Connor interrupted. “Or soon will be. Anything else?”

“One terse handwritten note. ‘
We shall meet again’
.”

“Directed at you, no doubt. You made him look like an amateur in East Timor. He’s not the kind to forget it.”

“No, sir, he’s not. And I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“It wasn’t a mistake to let him live, Carlos,” Connor said. “We got information, and now we have even more.”

“Are you going to present this to the president?” Carlos asked.

“I don’t know. I need to consider it. If, as you say, several cabinet level officers and congressional people are involved, it goes far deeper than we imagined. We’ll discuss it later. Twenty minutes, you say?”

“Twenty-two, General.”

Henderson Executive Airport
Las Vegas, Nevada
August

Jean Wolff watched as John Harford walked swiftly across the tarmac and boarded a Lear jet, which immediately taxied toward the runway. Wolff then departed his vehicle and boarded the Gulfstream 650 which was manned and ready for departure. As he took his seat and nodded to the pilot standing in the cabin doorway, he took out his cell phone again and keyed another text message.

Safe flight. Your horizon will not be as bright as it once was, but you will live . . . for now
.

The Gulfstream spun up the engines and began to taxi toward the main runway. Wolff watched out the port side window as Harford’s Lear lifted off, turned northeast, and began to climb. He turned his attention to his cell phone once again, keying in a series of numbers and placing the phone beside him on the aisle seat. Then he buckled in as the aircraft turned to the west and the engines spooled up for departure. They lifted off and turned due south, beginning to climb out through cloudless skies. Wolff watched out the port window as Henderson disappeared beneath the wing and, slightly to the southeast, Boulder City appeared on the horizon.

To his left, the large body of water known as Lake Mead appeared and narrowed toward the southern end, capped by the massive engineering structure known as Hoover Dam. Millions of people downstream, as far as Los Angeles and San Diego, with hundreds of communities along the way, depended on the water and electricity generated by this 1930’s federal works project.

As the dam came closer into view, about twenty miles distant to the east, he could see the narrow ribbon of Highway 93 and the newly constructed Hoover Dam bypass bridge. He turned to his right and retrieved his cell phone from the seat next to him, glanced out the window once more, and pressed send.

Hoover Dam
Arizona/Nevada Border
August

Thor Campbell glanced again at his watch, which read 9:28 A.M., and shifted in his seat, wishing that he had taken a moment to use the toilet before beginning his observation. For a moment, he considered walking several hundred yards to the small, public restroom facility located on the southern end of the parking area. He decided to wait another ten minutes before making the trip. It was the last decision of his life.

Eisenhower Executive Office Building
Office of Information & Public Relations
Department of Homeland Security
Washington, D.C.
August

General Pug Connor, United States Marine Corps, and Carlos Castro, Sergeant Major, United States Marine Corps, Retired, sat in the general’s office while Connor listened to the party on the other end of his telephone. He was silent, nodding occasionally, and then hung up the instrument.

“A two-kiloton nuclear explosion at Hoover Dam,” he said to Carlos. “That’s all they have so far.”

“It’s Wolff,” Carlos replied. “That bastard Wolff. I should have slit his throat in Timor.”

Connor nodded. “This will change the dynamics completely. If Harford is still alive, SI will gain complete control now, with unlimited powers for his domestic security operation, and Congress will be begging him to expand his force.”

Carlos stood, pausing behind his chair. “Not if I kill him first, General.”

Connor also stood, his jaw set and his voice soft. “I think we’ve come off the bench, Carlos. You and me, personally. And we’re back in the game. This may have to be done off the books. Off
everyone’s
books. I know one person I can contact for advice, but that will be the extent of outside knowledge.”

“Semper Fi, General. Semper Fi.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author’s Note:
After many years of traditional publishing, with both hardback and softbound books in print, I have released each of my out of print books and several new stories through the medium of e-books. As a new “Indie” author, I would appreciate your word of mouth support and if time allows, a narrative review on Amazon. Good or bad, one star or five, your comments would be most appreciated.

Gordon Ryan

Christchurch, New Zealand

www.gordonryan.com

Acknowledgements

The Pug Connor series has required technical input from a variety of sources, but none more important than that received from my military colleagues and associates who provide the security for our nation and those of our allies. I am indebted to these people, some of whom are not individually listed below. They know who they are.

William A. Tolbert, Major, USAF (Ret.) a life-long friend with whom I have spent many hours discussing the concept of American governance, states’ rights, and public turmoil.

Kate Ryan, Lieutenant Commander, Royal Australian Navy. Kate’s contribution to scenes in upcoming volumes were indispensable, and her critique of RAN naval terminology is essential to the accuracy of the story. We share the same name, but there is no family connection..

Pete Bartos, Lieutenant Colonel, USAF, (Ret.) As a former “Eagle Driver,” an F-15 pilot, and a veteran of Operation Noble Eagle, the domestic air cover operation designed after 9/11, Pete provided first-hand knowledge of the prospective air battle over American cities as we continue to prepare for the next assault.

Tristi Pinkston, who edited the manuscript and provided much needed variation and insight into the story. I express my sincere appreciation for her contribution.

Author Bio:

"Political thrillers are in my blood. They're more real, than fiction."

Gordon Ryan is a writer with a varied history. He has lived and worked in six foreign nations and a dozen or more states, including Alaska. He served in the 1st Recon Battalion, U.S. Marine Corps in the aftermath of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and in the Air Force in Thailand during the Vietnam War. He also served as a member of the American Embassy staff in Dublin, Ireland, during the violent seventies.

Ryan’s first published novel,
Dangerous Legacy
, was released in 1994 and he has published a dozen more over the intervening years with the Pug Connor novels,
State of Rebellion, Uncivil Liberties,
and
To Faithfully Execute
being his newest releases. Book Four,
Blood and Treasure
is scheduled for release in Fall, 2011.
Ryan never gave up his day job as a city manager and chief executive officer of large homeowners' associations, but once he discovered the joys of fiction, writing has been the driving force. Now writing full-time, Gordon and his wife, Colleen, spend their time between the American northwest and the beautiful South Pacific.