Gordon Ryan - State of Rebellion

Pug nodded. “Sorry, Mr. President, I do recall him. I met Commander Hudson about two years ago, I believe. In Wellington.”

“Colonel,” the president said, “in addition to your resignation from the CIA, I have here your appointment as military attache to the American Embassy, Wellington, New Zealand. I know this is all quite sudden, Pug, and it might appear that I’m putting you out to pasture. In truth, Commander Hudson will remain at his post for another six months or more. You’re heading down that way next week, I understand. For a vacation with your family?”

“Yes, sir. I had planned to be gone four weeks, but-”

The president waved off Pug’s concern. “That will work fine, Colonel. Carry on with those plans. And enjoy yourself while you can. I want you out of sight for awhile. We’ll see to the publicity regarding your new appointment. You’ll return occasionally, for a day or two, in order to meet with Judge Granata and several of his agents. At the right time, I want you back in Sacramento, quietly and with no fanfare. This is not a quick resolution issue, Pug. In some respects, you’ll be involved in law enforcement work rather than military operations. That makes it a slow, tedious process, to gather sufficient information. I want this stopped, but we have the election cycle to consider and time to ferret out the culprits. It won’t be a quick assignment. You will likely spend the better part of the next year digging for worms before you catch your fish.”

Again Pug remained quiet, his expression puzzled. The president turned toward Clarene Prescott. “Clarene, perhaps you can bring the colonel and Judge Granata up to speed.”

“Certainly, Mr. President. Judge Granata, two days ago, Colonel Connor and his contemporaries at the CIA were briefed by one of the FBI’s special agents and an Army CID major regarding the growing insurrection in California. Their briefing was more along the lines of a fact-finding mission. . and it came up empty, didn’t it, Colonel Connor?” she asked.

“Madam Ambassador, I still don’t fully understand. .”

She nodded. “Grant Sully kept his silence, didn’t he?”

Suddenly Pug understood. “He did, Ambassador.”

“Right. Well, here it is in a nutshell. The president has asked me to put together a task force-outside the normal agencies-to investigate the truth behind the rapid movement toward secession. If you’re agreeable, Colonel Connor, the president would like you to head that confidential task force. You’re still a serving Marine Corps officer, and your absence can be explained by your new appointment in New Zealand.

“Judge Granata, it will take about six to eight weeks to get you into the director’s chair. In the meantime, the president wants you to work with Colonel Connor and several of the FBI’s militia investigators, meeting as time permits, in between your Senate confirmation hearings and Pug’s New Zealand visit, to try to ferret out what’s really behind this secession and the surprisingly strong public support it’s gained.

“Pug, your appointment to New Zealand will serve as cover for your leaving the CIA and will also give you a place to disappear, when necessary, for a few days at a time. Judge Granata will be your FBI contact, and you’ll report directly to me or to the president. The FBI agents involved will be outside their normal reporting lines as well.”

President Eastman leaned forward in his chair and looked at Pug. “Colonel, we’ve worked together before. I trust your instincts. Also, your current boss, General Austin, has told me a bit about your, uh, testy relationship with Grant Sully.”

“Sir, if the general is displeased. .”

President Eastman laughed. “Not to worry, son. You still head Austin’s list of men with integrity. He actually recommended you for this assignment, telling me he would hate to lose you from his staff, but assuring me you had the right skills for the job. As for Sully, he’s served this nation for many years, but as of late, Director Wentworth has expressed. . well, the jury’s still out, and the verdict may well depend in large part on your findings. Are you prepared to take on this assignment?”

“Sir, I’m. . uh, I’m ready to serve as you deem necessary, of course.”

“Understand me clearly, Colonel Connor. These militia die-hards are no less dangerous than the Iraqis you faced. And they’re not as easy to identify. They’ll kill you in a heartbeat if they feel it will further their ends. That’s why your New Zealand assignment will be good cover.”

Pug nodded. “Thank you, Mr. President. I very much appreciate your concern.”

“Fine, then,” the president said, standing. “Let’s get underway. Go to New Zealand and have a good time. Meanwhile, Clarene will arrange for a safe house in Sacramento, and we’ll see what we can do to put Judge Granata in place at the FBI. Oh, and Pug, while you’re cavorting around in New Zealand, remember your loyalties. Consider it a presidential order that whatever sailing knowledge you have is highly confidential. Let the Kiwis fend for themselves.”

“Sir, you have nothing to fear from me. I’m barely a passenger on the water, pure and simple. Now the Kiwis. . they’re a different story. If memory serves, it’s a Kiwi who heads the San Francisco yachting consortium. If America is able to hold on to the America’s Cup, without using all Kiwi sailors, I’ll be absolutely shocked.” He laughed.

Eastman feigned mock disdain and shook his head. “But the Swiss took if off the Kiwis, didn’t they?”

“They did, sir, but even then, the Kiwis still owned it. The same New Zealander who heads the San Francisco effort ran the Swiss victory.” He laughed.

“Clarene, shouldn’t such a treasonous remark go in Colonel Connor’s dossier?” the president joked.

“I’ll see to it, Mr. President,” she said, winking at Pug.

“Godspeed to both of you, gentlemen,” the president said. “All jesting aside, we have a serious threat to our national security with this secessionist movement. I want to get to the bottom of it and put an end to it. I don’t intend to preside over a second Civil War. Congratulations, Judge Granata. I look forward to working with you.”

“And I with you, Mr. President. Thank you for your confidence.”

Sierra Nevada Mountains

Northern California

For most of his adult life, Jean Wolff had been a highly skilled, professional mercenary. Despite the Shasta Brigade’s well-earned reputation for violence, even murder-if the reports were true-meeting in person for the first time with the brigade’s leadership didn’t intimidate Wolff. Yet the physical insertion of another level of command-an unwanted level of command-always presented a problem. Depending upon the ego of the unit commander-in this case, a former U.S. Army officer named Jackson Shaw-the task had often proven difficult.

Twice, on similar missions, both times in the former Yugoslavia, the group commander or one of his associates had shot Wolff, but he had survived. On the second of those occasions, it was the local commander who had not survived. Wolff’s knowledge of the unit’s internal dissent had afforded him the opportunity to foment a rebellion within the ranks-to Wolff’s advantage.

With respect to the Shasta Brigade, John Henry Franklin had been adamant: it was time to take charge of this operation. Over a year earlier, at Franklin’s direction, Wolff had begun sending anonymous donations of cash to Shaw and other militia unit leaders.

Now, despite the inherent risks, and without having advised Shaw that he was the source of funds, Jean Wolff was going to meet personally for the first time with Shaw and the brigade leadership.