Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 52

Camelot

Declaration of a State of Emergency caused more panic than the government intended, and as a result an immediate conversation was had in Washington. The events leading up to martial law were all secret, but not for any evil purpose. Quite simply put, the government was afraid that if the public knew that martial law was an option on the table, the reaction would be horrific. If it was snuck through the vote when no one was watching, with no news media reporting on it, they could get away with it. It was a surprise for people to wake up in the morning and see soldiers on their sidewalks. Even in an age of fast moving information, few had paid close enough to attention to ever guess it would really happen.

Now these same individuals who called for martial law had to figure out how to use it. Small demonstrations a week before had transformed into ugly riots overnight. Stress had poured into every fiber of the government officials who were now forced to decide: when is it okay to use lethal force? The soldiers were supposed to be a deterrent; they wanted the men in uniform to calm down the public, not rile it up. The police officers had failed to keep their grip on the public, so certainly soldiers could do it better. The American people did not want to kill each other, this the government knew. They were tasked with proving that the government didn't want to kill Americans, either.

It was Ethan's first day back to work and he took part in this "war room" meeting. By default he was asked to join the already large crowd due to his work on several different war committees and defense committees. However, for this particular meeting he remained quiet and in a back corner. There wasn't much room anyway, as General Ellis and his staff, as well as President Kenning and much of his staff, joined various other members of the government. Despite the number of people there, it was not unruly or noisy. In fact, it was almost silent. Ideas were passed around but nothing solid had come to fruition.

The tension was obvious. After the Attorney General, Jacob Overfelt, clearly tried to advise Kenning, Ellis yelled, "This isn't Camelot and you're not Bobby Kennedy!" Overfelt was apparently very offended by the statement, so he grabbed his things and stormed out. This left a very confused Deputy Attorney seated next to an empty chair. Someone supposedly asked, "Who the hell is Bobby Kennedy?" Within ten minutes, William had left a hearing he was participating in and arrived to take Overfelt's place. A few felt as though it was just William flexing his power; a Solicitor General, in their eyes, should not represent the Justice Department. To them, there was a very clear difference between a sheriff and a lawyer.

It was not mentioned. The talks continued in that murky, crowded cage. This was even more frustrating for Ellis, who was now in control of almost the entire country. His immense anxiety painted itself clearly on his face and he nervously tapped a finger against his cheek. When someone would speak, he would turn his entire body to face them and would squint his eyes as though that would help him understand their logic better. This was the first time Ethan truly saw the General face to face, and he suddenly felt as though he had judged the man wrong all along.

Finally, Ellis spoke. With a sigh he said, "Looks fellas, we gotta figure out how we're going to handle this… uh, uprising we have here. I don't want a single American dead. Not a citizen and not a soldier."

"It doesn't help that the Navy hasn't done a good job complying to your commands, General," a Senator remarked. "The news reports that and the people view it as though – they view it as though the military is at war with itself."

It was strange to hear otherwise smooth talking politicians melt to mere men in the heat of that room. These were men and women that would never be caught with a stutter or second guessing their words in front of others. Yet this was the real them, not the ones delivered through scripted speeches and carefully crafted answers. It was election year, and many of these people decided to put their campaigns on hiatus so they could serve their country at this crucial moment. Some vowed to not even step a foot outside that building until America was at peace again. If only they knew that these were faces the American public wanted to see, not the wax dolls they created for elections. The irony did not elude Ethan.

Admiral Palko's voice brought Ethan back to reality. "You have to realize how nervous the Naval forces are after Corpus Christi."

"I don't blame them," the new Commandant of the Marine Corps said. "Special agents taking out a base is cause for concern. I am well aware of this in my own beloved Corps, as well. The truth of the matter is that we cannot focus on the public. The problem is clearly within the military forces of this country. It shames me to say it."

"Don't forget," Kenning said, "that I, too, was victim of this. Even the Secret Service is dirty."

"It's, it's… outrageous that we can't trust the people who are supposed to protect us," a Congresswoman said. "Who could the people trust if they can't trust the military?"

Silence hit. There was no answer. Ellis said, "Maybe martial law wasn't the right answer. We could have waited to see if the situation would diffuse itself. It just didn't seem possible." They contemplated the scenarios that could have unfolded. Would it have grown until it was out of control or fizzled like a million other movements had? Ellis cleared his throat and said, "Well, that's beside the point. It's done now. If we're patient these riots will disperse, I'm sure. Unfortunately it's Major Raymond I'm concerned about."

"Me too," Ethan said. He wasn't aware he said it out loud until everyone turned to look at him. He took the sudden attention in stride. "The endangerment of American lives upsets us all. But the endangerment of my future wife makes me sick."

"You should appeal to her, Senator Hughes," someone suggested. "She's the Major's adjutant. Perhaps she can convince him."

Ethan could only nod at the request. Ellis said, "I've met the Major before. He's a young man, but he's certainly not a rebel. You can tell what kind of man he is by looking at him. A straight forward kind of guy." He shook his head. "I just don't see him as the type to do this. Certainly he knows what kind of waste this is for his men and their families. But the reports are clear that bases have fallen near Union. One was even attacked by an aerial assault."

"The Sea Dogs," Palko guessed correctly. "I thought putting them on the ground would prevent Commander Lewis from doing anything stupid. This is far worse than what they did in Taipei."

"Major Raymond never acted until he met Commander Lewis," one of Ellis's advisers said. "We should look more into removing the Commander from the Major's presence."

"How much longer until he strikes again?" another adviser asked. "We know Major Raymond's tactics enough to predict that, right? We should look into evacuating bases within a hundred mile radius of Union as a precautionary measure."

Ellis nodded, "I agree. Evacuate them of all civilians and non-essential personnel. Tell them to be on alert for an attack, although by now they already should be. Get Major Raymond on the phone before anything happens and tell him to not move from Union. I understand we gave him leeway to help with an emergency situation down there the other day, but keep him put this time. I'll get in contact with him myself and we'll have a frank discussion. If those Sea Dogs get into the air, by God I want them grounded immediately. Use whatever you have to."

"Yes, General," the adviser said. Then he was on the phone in an instant and part of a completely different conversation.

"I don't want anyone to move toward Union, either," Ellis commanded. "God help that i***t Doyle, if he's even still alive. I don't want any American bloodshed. And in case you have all forgotten, Major Raymond and his Company are Americans. They are distinguished Americans. We owe them the benefit of the doubt."

William decided it was time to speak. He said, "Don't forget about my brother." Surprisingly, Ellis did not jump down his throat as quickly as he had for Overfelt. William explained, "I can't deny that Francis made that bizarre speech over the radio. Yet he said nothing by name. Was he speaking of Major Raymond or America? I can't decipher it."

"Then there's also Lieutenant James Goldwin," one of Ellis's advisers said. "It was a mistake to think we could put him back on the path after he followed Tristan Trotter. Any one of these men could hold responsibility for Major Raymond's actions."

"But we can't ignore the option that it is Major Raymond," another said.

It seemed as though they were out of words for a moment. Ethan noticed that the pitchers of water were empty, their contents long gone after pitiful attempts by others to quench their parched throats. Many in the room were sweating. They didn't bother with using a handkerchief to pat away their sweat, they used their sleeves and hands.

A Congressman cleared his throat and said, "Well, I uh, I guess then we'll have to attack, won't we?"

"The best course of action would be to cut off any and all supply lines," the Commandant suggested. "Isolate them in Union. The citizens of a town that small will not be able to do any damage to Major Raymond, but his own men might be his greatest enemy in the end. We'll starve them out of there."

Ellis said, "We'll go with the Commandant's plan. However, we only do this after all other avenues have been exhausted. We'll talk to him, and then get rid of the Sea Dogs, Lieutenant Goldwin and Francis Attaway." At the sound of his brother's name, William perked up. He didn't appear happy. Ellis continued, "If there's still a problem we'll strangle them then."

"If that fails?" Palko asked.

"Special ops," an adviser suggested. "We can't possibly bomb them because the civilian toll would be devastating. If we sent in an ambush of a platoon or more of regular infantry it could result in a battle for months. A special ops team can get in there, get rid of the Major, and get out."

"Just be sure not to make a martyr of him," Ellis said. "What's the best movement for troops?"

"You have to pull troops out of Europe," Kenning said. It was obvious a few did not agree with this, but they remained silent. "There's no point in guarding land that doesn't belong to us. Get men out of Africa and the Middle East. Brunhart can have it. Let's get this part of the world under control first."

Their meeting was interrupted when a man was let into the room. His face was grave, his suit almost wrinkled in his hurry to arrive. Naturally, he gathered everyone's attention just by appearing. He held in his hand a piece of paper with a note scribbled on it. He announced, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but this just came on the wire." Then the man stopped speaking, just to ensure everyone was listening and he wasn't dreaming. "Fort Riley has been attacked by an aerial assault."

"s**t," someone cursed.

Ellis remained calm. "Have them evacuate the civilians from there immediately. Keep me informed of every damn move made there. I want an update every five minutes and immediate updates once anything important happens. Excuse me; I have to take care of this. Mr. President, Admiral, Commandant, Congressmen and Congresswoman, Solicitor General. I'm sorry."

He stood and marched out in haste. Another man in a suit arrived; he went straight to William, leaned in to his ear and whispered something. The color from his face disappeared in an instant. "Oh God, are you sure?" he asked. The man nodded. William gathered his things and hurried out without another word.

As William's footsteps faded, the man remained in the room. He informed everyone, "Secretary Attaway has been found dead." Everyone's eyes traveled to the chair that regularly housed the Secretary of the Treasury. It was empty.

"Did he, like… have a stroke or was he murdered?" a Senator asked. There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Secretary Attaway was a well-liked man in the Cabinet and was very personable both inside and outside of work. There was also a tad bit of fear. If it was murder or assassination, the killing of Secretary Attaway would not be the end.

The man shook his head, "I don't have any details at this time."

Back in Union, the Secretary's other son, Francis Jordan Attaway, was in the process of taking a nap. The meeting with Percy had drained him of any energy and the thought of the Sea Dogs attacking Fort Riley wasted whatever motivation he had left. He needed to sleep. The couch that resided in the living room of the modest farm house he had purchased for his family was comfortable enough. Soon, the afternoon sun was peaking inside the large windows. That wasn't what disturbed him from his slumber.

Something hit him hard in the gut and he was forced to rollover. A light "oof" sound came from his mouth. His eyes flew open and the first thing he saw was his eldest son grinning from ear to ear. "Shouldn't you be at school, Douglas?"

"It's Sunday!" he yelled way too loudly. It caused Jordan to wince.

"Francis leave your father alone," Jordan's wife, Anna, warned from the hallway. "He's had a long day."

"Don't call me that!" he screamed back. Jordan felt a headache coming on. He knew he had made a mistake passing on his first name. His son hated it as much as he did, and both answered only to their middle names. Anna stomped toward the boy; he took off screaming. By the time she reached the couch, Douglas was long gone and Jordan was finally sitting up.

"You tease him too much," Jordan said with a smile.

"You don't tease him enough," she said. She took a seat next to him. She smoothed out his shirt and then made sure his hair was presentable. "They're always watching you, you know."

To that, he had nothing to say. Without a word they sat together in the tranquil silence. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry this house isn't very big compared to the one in New Jersey. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. To watch you."

"And I willingly followed to watch you," she said. A light kiss was placed on Jordan's cheek and he smiled at the action.

"I've been thinking about… politics," Jordan said.

A tad confused, she questioned, "You want to follow your brother and father?"

"Kind of," Jordan said. She laughed. It wasn't done in an attempt to be rude, it just was that she had known him long enough and well enough to know that he would not survive in American politics. He had long ago left behind any expectations of being an Attaway. Before she could give him a real answer, she was interrupted when Jordan's cellphone rang. He picked it up, muttered a, "Hello?" and promptly felt his face drop. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I'll be right – okay, good… Yeah, good… Okay."

Anna caught the abrupt change in her husband's demeanor. As he stood and gathered his things, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Dad's dead," Jordan answered. "They're sending a helicopter here to pick me up. Might've been murdered. Stay here with the kids. I'll be back in a few days. Love you."

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and was out the door before she could respond. As she sat in the silence of that little farm home, she realized Jordan had already made a decision when it came to politics. That decision had little to do with America.