Friday, November 8, 2013

"What Would Dogs Do - Part 20" (story)

The television screen in the common area still showed the young man from from the briefing room except now he was in the Oval Office.  On one side of him was the President and Supreme Court Chief Justice Winston was on the other.  In a semi-circle behind them were the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  There wasn't a smile anywhere in the room but neither was there any sign of violence.

People who must have been White House technicians were hovering about adjusting microphones and lights but there was no sound coming from any of them.  The CNN reporter was also silent and then it struck Goldberg that was the thing that was so unnerving.  The silence was begging for interruption but nothing came.  There were countless people inside the White House and perhaps as many as a million people surrounding it and yet there was no sound coming from any of them.

"What the hell, Boss.  What the hell!"

"The Revolutionary Council is going to be sworn in as the interim administration of the government."


In Bluffdale, Utah, the Director of the NSA, General Bradley Hotchkiss, barked into the telephone, "Give me something I can use."

"There's nothing, sir.  The Internet is buzzing with this but none of the searches of the traffic turn up anything resembling command and control."

"There must be some type of coded messages.  Figure it the hell out."

Hotchkiss slammed the phone into the cradle, swore and then stood to start pacing behind his desk.  He hadn't invested all this time and energy into the NSA to sit around ineffectually while the nation was hijacked.  Working with civilians never failed to infuriate him.

Just then there was a knock on the door.  Hotchkiss angrily acknowledged it and Lieutenant Colonel Richard Hutchinson, his Internal Operations officer, walked into the office.

"Do you need anything, Hutchinson?  Tell me of any weakness we need to fill."

"We have already called in all shifts, sir.  Tech, Crypto, Language, all support staff.  They're all active.  None of them report anything unusual except for the volume of the traffic and that is predictable given the situation.  They don't believe there is anything there."

"How the hell are they going to find something if they don't believe it exists," exploded Hotchkiss.

"I'm swinging to that belief also, sir," said Hutchinson.  "I've been meeting with the managers from all departments and have not only heard their reports but have reviewed with them the reports from their staffs.  My biggest interest was what Crypto had to bring to it but they have nothing either.  There is simply nothing different online, there is just more of it."

Hutchinson half expected a blast from Hotchkiss but he stood there regardless and waited for it.  He wasn't a big man but he also wasn't a wimp and he was quite accustomed to the tirades from Hotchkiss.

Frustrated, Hotchkiss simply said, "Carry on, Hutchinson," and then he turned his attention back to the television monitor showing the feed from the White House.


At The Refuge, Roger and Susan walked back into the common area followed by Kreitoff and his wife.  The Doctor was bubbling over what he had seen with the dogs but he quickly fell silent when he saw the lack of animation in the room.

"Dad, they're about to swear in the Revolutionary War Council.  I can't believe it can be this smooth," said Harrison.

"It never is, son," replied Roger.

Just then Susan spoke up and said, "It's almost seven o'clock, honey.  Please excuse me."

"Of course," said Roger.  Then he turned to Harrison and said, "You might want to go with her, son."

Harrison got up to follow her and was surprised to see her go into the security room.  After he was inside, she closed the door behind them and then went over to power up the CB radio base station.

Right at seven o'clock, the radio crackled to life with, "Got yer ears on, Big Hairy Momma.  This is the Arkansas Roadrunner."

Susan picked up the handset and said into it, "This is Big Hairy Momma.  Come on."

"I've got a big load of moonshine I'm taking to the brine shrimp.  Do you see any gumball machines out your way?"

"Negatory on that, Arkansas Roadrunner.  You show those brine shrimp a good time, you hear?"

"10-4, Big Hairy Momma"

With that the radio went silent.  Susan listened for a minute but nothing else was forthcoming.

"Big Hairy Momma," said Harrison incredulously.

"You like that," she asked and then laughed.

"Certainly no-one would guess it," said Harrison as it dawned on him what was being said.

"I knew I raised a smart son," said Susan, smiling.

"I'm not so sure I raised such smart parents.  You two are into this awfully deep," said Harrison.

"The other choice was to watch things disintegrate and we have never been ones to sit about and watch," replied Susan.

"They could shoot you for this," exclaimed Harrison.

"They could shoot us all for this, son," replied Susan calmly.  She had been living with this for quite a while and understood the immensity of what was coming down on her son but she felt even better about her course now that it was in motion.

"Shall we rejoin the others," she asked gently.

"Just a moment, Mother, if you don't mind.  This stuff is boiling through my head like a bowl of Mexican chilis in my belly."

"I understand, Steven," she said.  "Is there anything else you want to ask me?"

"What do you expect to happen next?"

"We anticipate right now they, most likely the NSA, are trying to smoke out the Revolutionary Council.  They will be thinking if they can find all of the members of the Council then they can take us out surgically.  Kill the head then the body will die and the crowds will go home.  We have to move very quickly to take the NSA and that's the moonshine headed to the brine shrimp."

"The auditors and the systems programmers they mentioned?"

"That's right, son," she replied.

Harrison couldn't help laughing at that point.  A load of moonshine was going to take out the NSA.

After a minute he said, "OK, I'm ready."


In the Oval Office, another member of the Revolutionary Council entered the room.  He did not identify himself just as the original young man had not but they obviously recognised each other.  This one was an older man an he did not resemble the younger man so it was impossible to discern the relationship.  He went over to the younger man and spoke to him in a voice too low for the microphone to relay it.  After a minute he stepped back and went over to General Masterson to speak with him as well.

The younger man then spoke directly into the camera and said, "We are advised that certain elements of the NRA have taken up weapons and are attempting to force a violent solution to the current situation in the streets.  We are not going to tell the President what to say as we are quite sure he will know.  Mister President, please speak to the people."

The President looked a bit surprised at the turnover but he recovered quickly and spoke toward the camera, "My fellow Americans, events of this day are a shock to us all but in talking with the Revolutionary Council I believe its motivation is truly the restoration of the Constitution and they have no intention of overturning America."

"I have given my life in service to this country and I have no intention of stopping now.  While I don't agree with the method, I agree with the intention and it's true that a radical situation requires a radical solution.  In what I have reviewed of the Raggedy Andy solution it can work but only with the support of the American people.  Those who are taking up weapons now threaten that unity so I tell you as Commander in Chief to put down your arms.  God bless America."

The President looked back to the younger man and then stepped away from the desk.  When he saw the speech was finished, General Masterson walked over to the President and started talking in a low voice.

"Sir, Malcolm has asked me to call General Hotchkiss at the NSA headquarters in Utah.  Until something changes, you are the Commander-in-Chief and my orders must come from you."

"Malcolm?"

General Masterson looked toward the older man who stood silently and waited.

"Yes, General.  Please do call him and the telephone here would be most appropriate.  What of your base commander at Camp Williams?  That's the one surrounding the NSA facility, correct?"

"Yes, sir.  John Rodriguez is the base commander.  He's a good man and he has the base on full alert."

"Advise him of the situation.  We can't have Hotchkiss acting independently and I wouldn't put it past him to try it."

"Yes, sir."

After a moment, Masterson continued, "I am deeply uncomfortable with this, sir.  This is putting my men in a situation unfathomable to them in which the 'enemy' is another American soldier."

"They are not enemies, General.  What I ask is action to prevent them from causing problems that will turn them into enemies as destabilisation of the current situation will definitely turn into a bloodbath.  If this gets out of control it will make the Civil War look like a garden party.  Acting now is crucial."

"Understood, Mister President.  I will proceed."


Back at NSA Headquarters, General Hotchkiss called Hutchinson back into the room and started barking questions as soon as he arrived.

"Have you looked on Twitter for any usernames such as RaggedyAndy or the like."

"It exists, sir, but there is no traffic, public or private."

Hutchinson was annoyed that Hotchkiss was wasting his time with obvious questions but he didn't show any sign and bore with it.

"Try this, Hutchinson.  Send out a message on Twitter to the effect that Bluffdale has been taken and is now deactivated.  Make sure RaggedyAndy can see it.  You get me?"

"Fishing trip?"

"Exactly.  In the absence of anything better, let's throw out a line and see what bites.  The leadership won't but maybe we will get a response from someone lower in the hierarchy."

"Anything else, sir," asked Hutchinson.  He didn't think such a simple idea would fool anyone but it was worth a try.

"Execute, Hutchinson," barked Hotchkiss.

When Hutchinson left the room, Hotchkiss picked up the telephone and called his Aerial Operations officer in Nevada.

"Execute as we previously discussed, Colonel."

On acknowledgement from Nevada, Hotchkiss put the receiver back in the cradle then lit a cigar and turned back to the monitor.

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