Richard Stephenson - Collapse

General Butler watched as an old, Hispanic man in a wheelchair was pushed out onto the lift and lowered to the ground. The grouchy looking man worked the controls on his wheelchair and moved out of the way so the rest of the passengers could exit the craft. Jackson was even more surprised to see a striking looking blonde woman exit the helicopter. Who on earth are these people? He was expecting high ranking generals and instead got an old man in a wheelchair and a gorgeous blonde. General Butler hid his confusion and watched as the two men he was expecting exited the helicopter. Finally, something made some sense.

The four guests walked toward Jackson, who was standing at attention holding a salute. Major General James Weygandt returned the gesture, “At ease, Captain. It’s a pleasure to meet you, son. We need true patriots like you to pick up the pieces of our once great nation.”

Carl Moody stepped forward and interrupted with a smile. “No, no, no, Jim. Jackson here has been promoted by our new president. You are speaking to General Butler.”

“My apologies! May I call you Jackson?”

“I’d be honored, sir,” said Jackson.

General Weygandt continued. “Jackson, Jackson, the first thing you need to know now that you’re no longer a captain is that when you’re just in the company of your fellow generals, you can drop the formalities. As long as you maintain respect, you can relax a little. Hard to have a personal conversation with someone when they’re standing like a statue.”

“Thank you, sir. May I call you Jim?”

General Weygandt laughed. “Let’s not get carried away. Let’s at least become friends first.”

General Butler took the ribbing well and smiled. “Of course.”

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff again interrupted. “General Butler, allow me to introduce our guests. This gentleman is the Director of the CIA, Roberto Jimenez.”

Jackson smiled and extended his hand. “Director.”

“Arrogant little fuck, isn’t he?” Director Jimenez growled at Carl Moody and refused the gesture from the young general.

“Come now, Roberto, General Butler here managed to secure our new headquarters for us,” said Chairman Moody.

“Kicking that crazy retard out of his house would have taken me five minutes, and I wouldn’t have let him get away.”

The blonde woman didn’t wait to be introduced. “Howard Beck is many things, but one of the most celebrated geniuses of this century can hardly be called a ‘retard’.”

“Jackson Butler, this is Stacy Reid,” said Chairman Moody.

General Butler extended his hand, which was not rejected as it had been from Roberto Jimenez. “Ma’am.”

“General, it’s nice to meet you.”

General Weygandt smiled at Stacy. “I notice you didn’t object to ‘crazy’.”

“Well, Howard is crazy like a fox. I got a kick out of hearing how hard it was to get him out of this house.” Stacy winked at General Butler.

“I can’t believe I actually thought I would be able to just explain to him what was what, and he’d just be cool with it.”

“How’d that work for you, sport?” Roberto Jimenez was almost laughing.

Jackson was really starting to dislike this old bastard. He had no idea that the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency was involved in the coup d’état that would soon overthrow the government that had ruled this land for two hundred thirty-eight years. The more he thought about it, the more Jackson realized that it made perfect sense for the CIA to overthrow the government. The shadowy agency had been systematically stripping away civil liberties for the past decade. He decided to cut the old bastard some slack. He was impressed that he’d managed to stay behind the scenes for as long as he had. Jackson turned his attention to the attractive woman who had joined them. Something about her was very familiar; he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Jackson, is the president ready to see us?” asked Chairman Moody.

“Yes, sir, please, come with me.” General Butler led the way to the rear entrance to the estate. As they walked toward the library, the damage was evident at every turn.

“Oh my, the stories don’t do it justice. He really did all of this trying to keep you out?” asked Stacy.

“Yeah, he did. We had a hell of a time taking this place. I’ve had crews working around the clock cleaning up the mess,” replied Jackson.

“You mean it was actually worse than this? Wow!” exclaimed Chairman Moody.

“The hardest part was turning off the heavy metal music,” said Butler.

“Thank God you managed to stop it,” said General Weygandt.

“Didn’t think President Sterling would set foot in here with that terrible racket blaring,” said Butler.

“Where is our new president?” asked Director Jimenez.

General Butler pointed to the end of the hall. “He’s just down here in the library.” Two soldiers were standing at attention outside the door. General Butler paid no attention to them and opened the door. Sterling had flown in the furniture from his office at Number One Observatory Circle. General Butler had focused on cleaning up the library in preparation for the new president’s arrival.

Simon Sterling was sitting at his desk, lost in his computer, and didn’t hear General Butler enter the room. Simon was a short man in his late sixties. He was Harvard educated and was obsessive about his grooming. He wore the most expensive suits he could afford and spent excessive amounts of money getting his hair cut weekly. He had the reputation of being a snob and always looked down on those who lacked basic fashion sense. Jackson stood in the doorway and cleared his throat, “Mr. President?”

Sterling looked up from his computer monitor. “Ah, yes! Gentlemen, please come in! My apologies, gentlemen and lady. Miss Reid, I’m glad you could join us here in the Rockies.” The new president was known for his charming manners and extended his hand to Stacy.

Stacy Reid stepped forward and shook hands with the man she detested, greeting him with the most genuine smile she could muster. “President Sterling, it’s been a long time.”

“Stacy, I hope I can answer any questions you may have, as I’m sure you have many.”

Stacy smirked. “Well, yes, I do have a few.”

“All in good time, my dear. I’m sure you’ll be a valuable asset to our efforts,” Sterling turned to address Carl Moody. “I’m ready for your report, General. Please, everyone, have a seat.”

Everyone in the room shuffled around to the couches to the right of President Sterling’s desk. Director Jimenez maneuvered his wheelchair around to sit at the right side of President Sterling’s chair. The crusty old spy acted like the decision was random and held no meaning, but everyone in the room understood the symbolism. Everyone looked at Chairman Moody and waited for him to speak.

“I’m sure the question on everyone’s mind is how an Iranian sub made it to our shores undetected and launched a warhead right under our noses. We’re still conducting the investigation; hopefully answers will be forthcoming. We’re under the impression that the radioactive cloud that poured out of Bunker Five was only a diversion to draw our ships out of the Atlantic so they could hit us with an EMP. However, we have a more pressing matter to deal with at the present time – primarily, what to do in the aftermath of the attack.”

Stacy Reid wore her best poker face and silently wondered if the men in this room didn’t orchestrate the EMP. Perhaps all of this was staged for her benefit. She thought about this possibility and dismissed it; she wouldn’t be sitting in this room if they didn’t trust her. Her presence was the very definition of mutually assured destruction. She was in the company of traitors. The only person in the world who knew she was working undercover was now dead. If the men in this room answered for their crimes, she was going to join them. Proclaiming that she was working undercover for the deceased Malcolm Powers wouldn’t save her; no one would believe her attempt to save her own ass. The one and only thing Stacy Reid wanted to know was who killed the forty-sixth president of the United States. The timing of all of this was just too coincidental. Key members of the government and military plot a coup and in the most amazing stroke of luck, the president is out of the picture. Simon Sterling’s plan to topple Malcolm Powers was no longer necessary. He would be sworn in as president under the provisions of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment right here in Colorado, if they could find a Supreme Court Justice to do the honors. Stacy firmly believed that the assassination of President Powers was not carried out by The Great Empire of Iran, even though the men in this room would certainly lay the blame at their feet. She would spend every waking moment of her life uncovering the truth if she had to.