“Just wait and see, Bill. The American people will not stand for it. Now he’s in charge of the federal government and immigration. The Hispanic people deserve better. His true colors will surface, and then the American people will see who he really is.”
“Give the man a chance, Read.” O’Reilly turned to face the camera, shaking his head again. “We’ll be right back with the voice recording and transcripts of the Dutch airliner cockpit voice recorder. They clearly show that both pilots were killed-their throats were cut-by the terrorists at least thirty minutes before the Air Force brought fighter jets on scene. Those who are second-guessing President Cumberland’s decision to shoot down the airliner should listen carefully to these tapes and drop their ridiculous assertions that the downing of the airliner was not needed and that it was only a communication problem. Stay with us.”
Carlos turned away from the television screen and pulled out his Blackberry again. He sent a quick email to the general’s secretary to advise her of his arrival time at Dulles International Airport. Then he began to make notes for his briefing to General Connor the following morning. Pausing for a moment as he tapped the keyboard, he reflected on the first time he’d met Captain Connor, his newly assigned company commander, back in the early nineties. Several battalion sergeants made bets that the new, soft-spoken guy couldn’t handle a tough situation. Two weeks later, returning from a covert Pakistan insertion, Carlos had new respect for his captain. When they had been ambushed by a local guerilla band, Captain Snow had killed four terrorists-two with a knife, hand-to-hand. Carlos never doubted Pug Connor again.
But whether the new president was tough enough to meet the challenge facing America was another story. The media had made a big deal of his supposed anti-Hispanic stance during the campaign, making so many false assertions. Even the rumored infidelity issue did not bring Snow to anger. As a candidate, Snow had never lost his temper in situations where Carlos would have knocked the media hack on his ass. Carlos himself had been an illegal immigrant, but he supported control of the borders.
Since his conversion to Islam over a decade ago, Carlos Castro, of Catholic heritage and the former leader of El Toro, the new name he had given his east Los Angeles gang, had become a gentle person in almost every circumstance. But like Pug Connor, when called upon to fight, Carlos Castro was a natural warrior, instantly and usually fatally violent to his opponent, as he had proved on many occasions.
The new president was an unknown quantity, certainly pertaining to Trojan. As General Connor had explained it to Carlos when he reported for duty, former President Clarene Prescott had formed Trojan within thirty days of her ascension to the presidency after President Eastman had been assassinated during his congressional address the previous September.
According to the general, President Elect Cumberland had been briefed in December, before taking office, and had agreed to continue the formation of the unpublicized domestic terrorism task force. But what about President Snow? How would he handle it? Resigning from the Corps to take this new position had been Carlos’s choice, and Connor had offered him a way to decline, but now the die had been cast. How long would the job last? Would Snow kill Trojan? That question was yet to be answered.
Chapter 4
Las Vegas, Nevada
January, 2013
As the year 2012 ended, the state of California had entered into a twenty-four month countdown toward secession from the United States of America. Despite considerable opposition from state and national political leaders over the past eighteen months, a U.S. Supreme Court ruling that it was unconstitutional, and a brief, but violent military confrontation in Sacramento that the press had dubbed The Battle of Capital Mall, the people had spoken-three times, actually-at the polls. Preparation for the formation of the Republic of California began in earnest. The date for implementation was January 1, 2015.
California Governor Walter Dewhirst, initially a staunch opponent of the secession, had responded to his constituents’ demands and called for international recognition of his new nation. Mexico, along with half a dozen other sovereign Pacific Rim nations, had responded affirmatively.
The previous August, when secession seemed imminent, Daniel Rawlings, a young, newly elected state legislator from Davis, California, had found himself immersed in both a secret presidential task force investigating the origins of the secession movement and a gubernatorial assignment to draft the new California constitution. For several months, he had wrestled with the dichotomy of the two assignments: one to stop the secession, and one to prepare for its eventuality.
Even the discovery by the presidential task force that the elections had been rigged, electronically, by a group of corporate financiers for whom the secession was a means to an end, did nothing to stop the steamroller effect. Convinced by the false vote tally that their fellow citizens were in favor of secession, the people demanded freedom. Freedom from Washington D.C. and burdensome taxation; freedom from confiscatory redistribution of wealth; freedom from myriad government regulations that invaded areas that most people knew were historically private: religious affiliation, sexual preference and even medical records. And freedom, when the judicial system was stacked against them, meant separation. Even in a state known for its liberal, ‘anything goes’ philosophy, enough was enough. The conservative voters, along with the vast array of independent middle-of-the-roaders, had overwhelmed the activist liberals and made history at the polls.
Rawlings and the task force had discovered one of life’s truths: no matter the fallacy of the origin or the deception perpetrated in the process, the end result was the determining factor in public acceptance of change. The decision of President Clarene Prescott, following the assassination of her predecessor, Bill Eastman, not to reveal the source or even the presence of a fraudulent election, put the final confirmation to the issue. Legally achieved or not, California was on the road to secession, and so far, no one in national power had agreed to use military force to stop it.
A month before the November 2012 presidential election, in an effort to broaden his understanding of America’s founding principles, Rawlings had contacted The Montclair Advocacy, a prestigious political think tank in California with a known conservative persuasion. Dan also solicited the assistance of other outside sources, including Horatio Julius, his former law professor at Stanford and a renowned constitutional scholar.
Several meetings with Professor Julius and principal officers and analysts at Montclair gave Rawlings an entirely new perspective. In fairly quick order, these learned scholars opened Dan’s eyes to various philosophical components of the existing national Constitution that were intended by America’s Founding Fathers, but which had been abandoned. More importantly, their presentation of how these various components of governance had become corrupted over the ensuing two centuries by the political adoption of progressive philosophy that was antithetical to the ‘natural, God-given rights’ theory had broadened Dan’s concept of central versus local governance. Constant bombardment by Glenn Beck and other conservative talk show hosts sealed the lesson.