Gordon Ryan - Uncivil liberties

Unspoken by the chairman, but not unnoticed by Winchester, was the part Harford had played in his campaign financing over the years, especially the last campaign for the Senate when the Republicans had overplayed their hand with a bright, young lieutenant governor whom they had run against him. All in all, Harford had contributed nearly six million dollars to Augustus Winchester in his congressional campaigns. Failing to respond to Harford’s direct appeal was suicidal, politically and financially speaking, since he would surely switch his financial alliance to someone more malleable.

“Of course, as I said, you won’t be alone in this campaign, Augustus. Every congressman or congresswoman I have ever helped to finance, every senator, and every lobbyist who has ever worked for me will get behind this bill completely. Even the normally liberal media will be in support if we play our cards right. It will be a full court press, Augustus. Domestic Tranquility will become the law of the land within sixty days if I have anything to say about it, and I do have something to say about it. Are you ready to lead the charge, Senator Winchester?”

“Do you have the necessary votes on Senator Culpepper’s committee to get the bill on the floor for a vote?” Winchester asked.

“Leave that to me. With the narrow escape Senator McKenzie had on Saturday, I would think she would be leading your supporters to recommend a full Senate vote immediately.”

“John,” Winchester said as he rose from his seat, “the Founding Fathers had it right. I think it’s time that we restored domestic tranquility in America, don’t you?”

“Now you’re talking, Senator. Now you’re talking.”

As Senator Winchester left, Harford sat behind his desk for several minutes until his secretary buzzed his intercom.

“Sir, Mr. Hegarty has arrived, and security called to advise that a Mr. Campbell is downstairs, obtaining clearance to enter the building.”

“Fine. Confirm to security that Campbell may enter, and when he arrives, send both men in.”

Harford stood behind his desk and gazed out the window toward Capital Mall. The two men coming to his office had never met. In fact, Harford had never met Campbell either, but before his disappearance several weeks earlier, Jean Wolff had praised his ability to, how did he put it, “do what was necessary without remorse.” Putting these two men together would complete the liaison between the east and west coast efforts to foment the plan. And if Devlin could find a way to get Wolff out of federal custody, he would be the right man to deal with the western militia units.

Before his untimely death last year, John Henry Franklin had possessed the election resources and Harford had the political connections to make everything work. Or so he had thought. Franklin was gone now, as was the phony election process, but adaptation was a hallmark of Strategic Initiatives, and SI was John Harford.

A small knock on his door broke his reverie, and as his secretary opened the door, both men came into the spacious office.

“Gentlemen, welcome,” Harford said, stepping forward into the room to greet them. “Thank you, Laurie. No calls, please. And let Captain Jenkins know his guests will be at the marina in about forty-five minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Campbell stood just under six feet, was casually dressed in slacks and an open-necked shirt, and sported a full beard, with a thick head of unruly hair.

“Mr. Campbell, I’ve not had the pleasure,” Harford said, extending his hand, “but Jean Wolff had nothing but praise for your dedication to America. I’m pleased to meet you. And Devlin,” he said, turning toward the slightly older man, “good to see you again. Dev, this is Angus Campbell, commander of the burgeoning American Brigade Command, a western patriot movement. Mr. Campbell, allow me to introduce Devlin Hegarty. Devlin is director of field operations for Strategic Initiatives. Please, take a seat.”

Both men took seats in plush, chocolate-brown leather chairs in front of the burnished oak desk and Harford returned to his swivel chair. With a full view of the United States Capitol Building in the background, the office was designed to exude power and project an inference of access to U.S. government officials, sufficient to make visiting foreign dignitaries sign on the dotted line to obtain SI services.

“Now, let’s get the show on the road. No time for pleasantries. Mr. Campbell, are you geared up for the western campaign? Subordinate unit resources in place, the Brigade ready to act?”

Campbell glanced briefly at Hegarty, who had maintained a stoic expression and, thus far, had not said a word. Looking back at Harford, Campbell nodded slightly, but seemed hesitant to speak openly.

“Mr. Campbell, have no concerns about security of information in this office. Mr. Hegarty is aware of the overall scope of the plan. The takedown of the terrorists in San Antonio was his operational plan and has proven to U.S. government officials that SI can deliver. We need your group to further our aims out west. So, again I ask, is the Brigade ready to find and kill these terrorists and protect our nation?”

“We are, Mr. Harford. We don’t have the equipment or resources at our disposal that SI offers, but we have the manpower and zeal necessary to get the job done.”

“That’s all we ask. Mr. Hegarty will provide everything else you need. Your Brigade is critical out west. We both know what will happen if law enforcement catches these guys. They’ll spend decades costing us fifty grand a year, then another few million to provide them lawyers and color television. Your brand of justice will see that never happens. And not underserved, I might add.”

“As I said, we’ll get the job done.”

“Excellent. Now Devlin, I’ve arranged for you and Mr. Campbell to have a lunch cruise on the Potomac to discuss our mutual objectives. You’ll have total privacy out on the water. Mr. Campbell understands his role in the western theater of operations. You can fill him in on the rest.”

Harford stood up, smiling as he did so. “I trust you gentlemen will find ample amenities on the Rosewood. Just let Captain Jenkins know if you need anything further,” he said. “Oh, Mr. Campbell, give me a private moment with Devlin before he leaves. You can wait momentarily in the foyer. Nice to have met you.”

Campbell stepped out of the office and Harford waited just a moment as the door closed. “Dev, remember the limitations of Campbell’s role. He has to believe that SI is chasing these terrorists and that’s all. He can bring a lot of manpower to bear, but more importantly, these guys will do most anything we ask of them. Their involvement will serve to further inflame law enforcement and our military, so convince him how he can be of service. I don’t expect you’ll get any resistance to a suggestion that he find and kill these roving shooters. If he kills a few innocent, non-European people along the way, so much the better for our needs.”

“I understand, John. I’ll handle it.”

“And one more thing, Dev,” Harford continued, “when you sort things out with Campbell, it’s becoming forest fire season in the northwest. Direct one of your rover teams to a forested area in Montana with orders to start a fire. But after you do, give Campbell a heads up intelligence briefing about where to locate and ambush them. Tell him to make a public example of them. Display the bodies so law enforcement will find them. But at the same time, direct a half-dozen or more of your teams to start forest fires throughout the northwest, of their own choosing. Don’t tell Campbell about them.”

“Consider it done, John.”

“And last, in about a week-I’ll confirm the timing later-I want you to go to Copenhagen and supervise a container shipment to the states.”