Chapter 46 -- HWNVZDGRIADWQJCM
Carter was dreaming. Dreaming that he was being handcuffed and led into a
building. Down tiled corridors to an elevator. Up several floors. Out into
another corridor. Through double wide wooden doors. He was entering a
courtroom. He was herded up the center aisle, his eyes fixed on the black-robed
figure. He wondered why it was called the bench. He sensed
he was dreaming but couldn't wake up. The judge rapped the gavel. Suddenly the
courtroom exploded into a cacophony of noise and flashes of light, the sound of
gunfire and explosions. Masked men in black were moving around him...
He jerked awake. He was lying on his side, looking at Jessica who was already
awake, leaning on her elbow, looking at him.
"You all right?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm OK. Bad dream."
"You seemed restless, that's unusual."
"I guess I am. Aren't you?"
"Of course. How could I not be? Waiting for something to happen, something
you know is going to be bad. Sometimes I think I want it to start, to take my
mind off all the possibilities I think about."
"I guess we should be up," he said. "See what the day has for us."
Donald was away at a Council meeting and wouldn't be back for another day.
Carter and Jessica went over to her grandfather's house.
He had already had breakfast with Dalton and Mary, and when they arrived Mary
got up to fix them something.
"No, Mary. We'll fix a little something. Sit here and visit some more. She
leaned over to kiss her grandfather's cheek, and he put his arm around her,
held her for a few moments.
"Good morning, Darrell," he said. "You and Jessica relax for a while. There's
not much to do until Don gets back."
It was the calm before the storm, Carter knew. His morning dream had
disquieted him, and he wondered if Jessica was as conflicted as he, or perhaps
more. What they were setting out to do, no matter how justified, would involve
death and destruction, possibly a lot of it.
Jessica had toasted some breakfast pastries and he poured them each a cup of
coffee.
"You didn't drink your coffee black before you met Darrell," Gordon observed.
"Did Darrell get you started?"
"Yes," she replied, smiling. "We've found a lot of things to share."
"I'm glad you two are happy," he said. "I know Don is too. I look forward to
a time when we can take the time to just live normal lives together."
"So do we," she said.
"As you know," Gordon said, "it's likely that Mary and Dalton may be leaving as
early as the next week or two. And I as well. Don fully expects the start to
be in the next month or so. So we won't see you much, if it all, for a while.
But we're completely safe, out of it, as much as I hate to be. But I have no
doubts of you success. So we will be together again."
Jessica, sitting at the corner of the table near her grandfather, put her hand
on his and held it there for a few seconds.
"I know, Grandfather. I don't know what will happen before we are together
again, but I know we will be."
After a while a call came from Tommy. Jessica spoke for just a few minutes
and disconnected.
"You want to go over to Saint Joe?" she asked Carter. "We probably have some
shopping to do before Dad gets back, in case we have some immediate tasks."
"Good idea," Carter said. "Are they bringing the girls?"
While Tommy seemed to alternate a number of young women and James had
developed a similar habit, recently each of them had seemed to settle on a
preferred partner, something Carter and Jessica had quietly vetted, and Donald
had had them checked out by a professional. So
far each of them seemed clean, and both Tommy and James had avoided sleepovers
at any of their intimate encounters, avoiding the possibility of unguarded speech.
"We'll probably be gone the rest of the day," Jessica said. "Take care, and we'll
see you tomorrow."
Tommy and James met them at Jessica's house and they drove to town to pick up
their dates. They were in one of the Trailblazers with Carter and Jessica in
another. They got in some shopping before lunch, for the usual necessary items.
That left the afternoon free for 'the girls' to shop. Jessica was a little
older than them, but by just a few years, and the three of them engaged in a
more frivolous activity - Jessica mostly for cover. She was as fixed on the
upcoming events as they, but played along with the other two women.
They had dinner at an Olive Garden, apparently the favorite of both of the
girls, and Jessica was, like the men, concerned with more important matters
than where or what to eat. The early sunset had them driving home after dark,
and when Tommy and James went to deliver their dates to their homes Jessica
and Carter continued home.
They watched the news for a while, mostly from habit. There were no major
events that day that would have interested them, so they watched the news of a
handful of homicides in the usual places and just enough of political events
to know it was time to retire. Tomorrow would come soon enough, with Donald's
return and the news he brought.
Later, as they lay in bed waiting for sleep, Jessica asked him about his dream.
"I dreamed I was going into the courtroom, I guess when I was to be sentenced,
but before they got me in front of the judge, something happened, men in black
came in, shooting and, maybe throwing grenades. They were all wearing masks.
That's where I woke up.
"I think sometimes I dream things like that lately," she said. "I don't
usually remember much, but there is violence, it seems. We shouldn't be
surprised, I suppose. Considering close we are to it beginning to happen."
The next morning they were up early. Donald was arriving from the Council
meeting, and for the first time the pilot would deliver him directly to the
farm, using the new runway. I was almost noon when he arrived, the Cessna 340
stopped by the parking area just long enough for him to disembark, with Carter
and Tommy taking his bags, then taxied away to the end of the runway to turn
and prepare for takeoff.
As they watched the aircraft disappear, Donald turned to walk with Carter and
Jessica to one of the cars, Tommy and James taking the other. Since he was
expected by lunch time, they went directly to the house to find it ready.
"Give me just a few minutes to clean up," he said after greeting his father
"and I'll be with you." He turned to go to his quarters. The others sat down
at the large dining table and waited.
They knew that the talk, whatever it might be, could wait another hour or so,
so they enjoyed the meal with only casual chatter. All knew it would be one
of the last such times - whatever happened going forward, there would be no
more of Mary preparing meals and sitting around the table like a family - and
they had become like a family, even though Jessica with her father and
grandfather were the only blood relatives.
After lunch they gathered in Donald's office as they did on most days. He
turned on the television to watch one of the generic news channels and they
watched for a while. A congressman was holding forth on a bill, this one to
control the trade in precious metals.
"They're moving fast," said Donald. "Let's see where they are..." He turned
up the volume.
...and the unregulated trade in gold, silver, and other high-value commodities
presents a opportunity not only for crimes, money laundering and concealment
of assets not only by criminal organizations but by supposedly legitimate
businesses seeking to avoid taxation. It is of the utmost importance that
these loopholes be closed," said congressman Robert Hayes.
Newly elected congressman, they knew. Part of the final blow to the opposition,
as the ruling party had acquired enough seats in the last election to prevent
any opposition. The minority party had essentially given up - few offered
even token opposition and many did not show up for votes.
"And perhaps the greatest threat," Hays continued, "is the ability of domestic
terrorists to conceal their activities, using an untraceable medium of exchange.
The threat is urgent and this avenue must be closed. I join my colleague from
Massachusetts in sponsoring this urgently needed legislation."
"Well, that was to be expected," Donald said. "In a way it may be a good thing.
They're doing so much so fast that all the people who are likely to do
something about will all get angry at once. Instead of picking off one group
at a time, they'll have the entire opposition mobilized at once. The more
organic uprising there is, the easier our job will be."
He paused, took some papers from his briefcase and handed one to each of them
before continuing.
"Take a look at these," he said.
Carter looked down at the single sheet of paper.
Fellow Americans. We stand now at the edge of the abyss,
another step forward and we are lost, perhaps forever. There
is no longer time for anything but action.
You who have for years, spoken of the threat, in all the
available media. Will you now stop talking and DO
SOMETHING?
You who belong to organizations supposedly dedicated to the
preservation of constitutional rights, will you now stop
talking and DO SOMETHING?
You people who have wealth from lucrative careers in business,
entertainment, and other enterprises and wish to preserve the
freedom you had for future generations, will you DO SOMETHING?
You who have banded together in groups to live separately from
a society that is no longer fit for decent people, will you
stop complaining and DO SOMETHING?
You who see the end coming and believe there is nothing you can
do, will you die helpless under the boot of the tyrant, or will
you DO SOMETHING?
It is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees.
If you nevertheless choose to live on your knees, it will be
for only a while. You will still die, after a useless life.
There are many millions of us, we vastly outnumber the enemy.
And only a few of them will fight - they must pay or coerce
others to do their work. United they can not stand before us.
WILL YOU DO SOMETHING?
"This," said Donald, "will be printed in large quantities, all over the country.
I'm talking about millions, well over a hundred million, anyway. Enough for
one in three adults, and they'll be endlessly reported in the news. Every
person in the country will be exposed to it. We have the ability do distribute
it in every state, reaching the entire population. We decided to distribute
it a few days before the first strike, probably about a week. That will put
it in the hands of millions, and despite the fact that it will help us by
ensuring maximum exposure, all the news media will pick up and endlessly
discuss it. We have several more in the works, to be distributed at later
stages, the content to be determined by conditions at the time.
"The second part of the setup is communicating to the independent groups we
have been in contact with for a while now. They have agreed to hold their
fire until we give the signal. That will be at the same time as first strike.
Before they can react to what is happening in DC, brushfires will be starting
all over the country. We're looking at complete paralysis - they can't touch
us, and the freelancers will have them running in all directions, and once the
people incited by our communique begin to act...if we keep the pressure on they'll
come to the table at some point. Hopefully soon, but if not we're in it.
"So, that's essentially it. We begin staging for the DC strike immediately.
It's a big operation, most likely the the largest - the first blow must be one
from which they never regain their balance. Generally if you can knock a man
down and you can prevent him from getting back on his feet, he can't effectively
fight you. That's what we have to do."