Leon Uris: A God In Ruins

“Phase Two, deputize all urban police forces and county sheriffs to round up and detain suspects. Phase Three, call up the National Guard in threatened locales. National Guards to maintain a peace-keeping posture.”

“It’s starting to sound like the Keystone Kops,” the President said.

“How, sir? Once we have a list of priority people and buildings to defend and have the National Guard on the street and we have rounded up their leadership, we’ll snuff it by the middle of the day, tomorrow.”

“Let’s hear the rest of this plan,” Thornton said, knowing he’d made up his mind.

“The rest of the phases deal with a full-court press on the streets—curfews, ultimatums, finally call up the Army and Marines for martial law.”

“Bad news,” Mendenhall interrupted. “Jewish community center in Los Angeles was just bombed.”

“We can’t count this as a trend,” Jacob Turnquist grunted academically.

“Just sporadic incidents.”

“If we do not put Phase One into motion, we’ll be playing in a game we can’t win. If we allow fires to erupt, the fires will consume everything until they burn themselves out,” de Forest warned.

“And I say that jumping the gun sends a bad signal to the American people. It might be all over with by dawn,” said Tomtree.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” de Forest said. “This is a matter of public safety, sir ...”

“Mendenhall.”

/-i

Sir.

“Run off a copy of this Joy Streets for my personal use. You’ve got to know when to hold and know when to fold. What else have you got there, Mr. Director?”

“Release form, Mr. President. An executive order to be signed by you to put Joy Streets into motion.”

“Just leave it here. Thank you, gentlemen,” Thornton said, nodding to each. “Mr. Jefferson, remain, please.”

The three left, consumed with apprehension. Hugh Men den hall ran Joy Streets through a copier. A note was handed to Director Lucas de Forest.

“Shit. Synagogue torched in Baltimore.” He glared at Mendenhall, who threw up his arms.

“I don’t know why,” Hugh said defensively. “The chief plays a mean poker hand.”

Thornton unlaced his shoes and rubbed his feet. He’d never seen Darnell Jefferson suddenly become so haggard. “I think we’re on the right track, Darnell, but you looked like you were ready to explode.”

“Because,” Darnell said hoarsely, “I know something that I didn’t know before.”

“What would that be?”

“I really don’t think you can comprehend what I’ve got to say, Thornton.”

“It’s too late to speak in riddles, and we’ve got a bitch of a day

tomorrow. I’m wondering now, how do we approach the last days of the

campaign:1”

“Well, just travel right into the riot spots.”

“That could be messy. I think ... I think we buy two thirty minute time slots a day, one at noon, one at eight in the evening, and we’ll do a combination infomercial/upto-the minute report.”

Darnell Jefferson turned on his heel. “Darnell! Do not leave!” Darnell’s hand dropped from the doorknob, “Now, what is it you know you didn’t know before?”

“All about my life,” Darnell said. “It isn’t very interesting.”

“Sit down, have a drink,” Thornton said. “This thing could be

volatile, because—“

“Because you want it to become volatile,” Darnell said, looking down, then into the President’s eyes. “You want some more bombs to go off, cemeteries desecrated, synagogues burned to the ground, Kristallnacht, you want a Kristallnacht. Then their big daddy president will move in and save the day. You want to deliberately start Joy Streets late so you can take on the role of savior.”

“Are you trying to say I’m orchestrating these riots?”

“You knew they would happen, brother. And you knew you could have stopped them dead in their tracks a half hour ago. But there is more. You want some blood on the streets as well. Every time someone is killed or wounded, the pressure mounts on O’Connell to quit and withdraw.”

“That’s diabolical!” Thornton protested.

“It sure is. Thornton, stick this in your craw. Every casualty that puts pressure on O’Connell puts even more pressure on you.”

Thornton turned his eyes away.

“It’s down to simple math. If the people believe O’Connell, they will vote him into office next week,” Darnell said. “If they believe you, they will vote to reelect you.”

Tomtree averted his eyes from his friend’s piercing glare in a manner he had not done since they were teenagers.

Darnell became a bundle of sweating, pleading. “God, man, stop these riots!”

Knowing that Thornton was not going to budge, Darnell backed off, broken, to whine: “I’ve been following a black hearted man all my life. My daddy believed there was a bright star in the east the night you were born. Like Jesus! “Thornton’s mind can go into places where no one can follow. He will achieve ultimate greatness for himself and for the human race.” I believed that, too. I believed you would never make a decision that knowingly put America in danger.”

“That’s enough, Darnell.”

“No, it isn’t. The reason you are doing this tonight is that seed already planted in a gangly, pimply excuse for a basketball player in Pawtucket. You were pissed then, and you’re pissed now. World! T3 is going to even up the score for his friendless life.”

“I said, that is enough!”

Darnell ignored him. “The Bulldog Network, absolute secrecy guaranteed. A paragon of human achievement. Why did Thornton Tomtree love that? Big-time greed is where the power is, where the big bucks play. Greed is the curse of making yourself a deity in your own eyes up to a point where you cannot manage a human relationship. Greed is justifying any and all means of control. You’re an electronic monster! We have a president uncaring of how many people are killed on the streets so long as he wins his reelection.”

“I knew you’d end up weeping on your knees, big-time, when the going got tough. You didn’t know what the presidency is all about,” Thornton said.

Hugh Mendenhall slipped in.

“Muslims stirring up a riot in Detroit. That’s a very incendiary place. Michigan governor Grayson McKenney has just called up the National Guard.”

“Goddammit! Grayson’s a Republican. He should have called me first!”

“At the moment AMERIGUN is setting up for a TV and web site blast starting in the morning. Otherwise, these brush fires continue to pop up.”

“Colorado?” Thornton snapped. “Has O’Connell called up his guard?”

“Negative. Nothing seems to be happening in Denver.”

“Any idea how we might set Denver off?” Thornton asked.

“I don’t fucking believe this!” Darnell cried.

“Sit down and shut up, Darnell.”

More news of rioting. The downtown areas of a dozen cities began to flame to the beat of broken glass!

*

Kristallnacht!

Thornton moved to his study, adjoining his bedroom, where he had a setup of a dozen TV monitors. Snips were arriving of tear gas, swinging batons .. . now water cannons!

“Okay, buster,” Thornton said to himself, “so let us play chicken, O’Connell, let’s play chicken!”

Ben Horowitz was damn near inconsolable, taking the blame for turning the devil forces loose.