Secession: The Storm (32 page)

“Why Texas?” the senator from Georgia asked President Clifton.

“Because geographically, it makes sense. Also, its history, culture, and size make it a viable option,” Heidi responded.

Sipping his cup of exceptional White House coffee, the gray-haired gentleman peered over the rim of his cup at the newly sworn-in chief executive. “I have to hand it to you, Madam President; that was one crafty political play. Risky, but obviously worthwhile.”

“It wasn’t as political as you might think, Senator. I intend to keep my campaign promise and see this through. That’s why I’ve asked you here for breakfast, to gauge your interest in joining our Blue Ribbon Commission and explore the concept.”

Arranging his cup and saucer on the coffee table, the Senate Majority Leader sighed. “I have to tell you, ma’am; I’ve got a lot of extremely envious constituents. I’ve heard from thousands of voters who are asking ‘Why not Georgia?’ along with Texas. There have been many voices calling for the Old South to rise again. You’ve opened a huge can of separatist worms.”

Heidi was smooth, “So I’ve heard. We anticipated such reactions and sentiment, but believe this will be limited in scope. One method to make sure we don’t split the nation in half is to state clearly that there will be open borders between the two countries if there is secession. At any time the people on the right want to relocate, they’ll be free to do so. Same goes for those on the left living in Texas. Remember, Senator, they have Democrats and liberals down there - millions and millions of citizens with progressive leanings reside in the Lone Star State.”

“You sound like you really want this to happen. I’m surprised,” responded the life-long Republican. “You know some in the press have started calling you the ‘Anti-Lincoln.’”

Heidi laughed, “I’ve been called far, far worse. However, that just reaffirms the point. If you stand back and look at our system, the interaction of the parties, and the polarization of our citizens, there is logic to this madness. But even beyond that, I made a promise to the American people, and I’m going to keep it.”

“I’ve got to admit, after the initial shock of your announcement, I found myself tempted to relocate. I probably wouldn’t, being a Georgia boy through and through, but there is an appeal to living in a place inhabited by like-minded people.”

Nodding her understanding, Mrs. Clifton continued, “We envision a relationship much like the European Union. Open borders, free trade, mutual defense packs… that sort of arrangement.”

The senator extended his hand, “I’ll agree to be a member of your Blue Ribbon panel. I’ll enjoy the ringside seat for
this
show.”

“Thank you,” Heidi responded, accepting his handshake. 

Aaron stood in the Oval Office, facing his Commander in Chief while he waited for her to complete a phone call.

“I’ve got to hand it to Governor Simmons, he sure is taking this game seriously,” she said after disconnecting. “That was the Israeli Ambassador, requesting my personal approval for him to visit Austin. It seems the people of the Lone Star State are seeking Israeli expertise in establishing a new country.”

“Makes sense,” Aaron replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Other than the Soviet Bloc states that broke free, Israel is the last major country created out of thin air. If anyone knows how to do such a thing, it will be them.”

Heidi stood, stepping from behind the desk. She settled at the window, crossing her arms and staring outside. “I thought this would be over by now. I thought common sense would prevail, and everyone would agree that this is a stupid and unnecessary exercise.”

“It’s only been a few months since your inauguration, ma’am. Give it time to fade away.”

Heidi turned, her pivot just a little too fast, her body language a smidge too tight. Aaron knew instantly she was stressed over the subject. “I’m not going to go down in history as the president who destroyed the union. That’s not going to happen,” she declared.

Aaron held his ground, “Madam President, I just don’t see it occurring… it’s just not feasible. Please keep in mind why we announced this in the first place – it was to pull in undecided voters from the middle, and perhaps a few on the far right as well. It worked. All we’re seeing right now is a bunch of blowhards trying to make political hay. Even that is fading. The amount of stumping on the subject, in Congress, is in decline.”

The president shook her head, “I went along with this because I thought it would bring the two sides together. I had expectations that the right and left would see how ridiculous their partisan positions were and meet in the middle. But that’s not happening. If anything, it has divided the country further – made the chasm deeper.”

“You remember the budget stalemate from just a few years ago? How both sides took the government shutdown to the brink of disaster? Washington has seen this sort of gamesmanship for 200 years. Texas seceding from the union is no different, ma’am. Sabers will rattle until the last possible moment, and then the matter will die quickly.”

“And in the meantime,” Heidi responded with frustration, “Nothing is getting done. We’ve not even managed to push one single piece of legislation through committee, let alone signed into law.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, nothing was getting done before you came into this office. If you recall, on the campaign this was one of your primary concerns. The gridlock we see today isn’t any worse than your predecessor suffered for years.”

Nodding her head, President Clifton acknowledged Aaron’s point. “What do the latest poll numbers indicate from Texas?”

“Only 36% of registered voters are in favor of secession. Like I keep saying, it’s not going to happen.”  

The small icon on Zach’s cell phone signaled a new voicemail now resided in his inbox. Since there weren’t any missed calls on his mobile, it had to be someone trying to reach him via the Austin office.

He dialed the sequence of numbers required to access the seldom-used feature, a computerized voice announcing that he had one new message.

An unfamiliar female voice came across the line. “My name is Kara Hendricks… well it used to be Hendricks…. Anyway, I found a letter today from my late husband, Abe. I think you were with him at the time of his death. I remember watching you fighting with that other cop on the day he was killed, and somehow I got the impression that you cared. I think this note might be significant. Please call me.”

Zach wrote down the number, his mind racing with the woman’s words. She answered his return call on the second ring.

“Ma’am, this is Ranger Zachariah Bass. I received your message.”

“Thank you for returning my call, Mr. Bass. Are you the same ranger I saw on television when my ex-husband was killed?”

“I am, ma’am. To this day, we’ve not found his killer, but the case has never gone cold – at least not by my way of thinking. Could you tell me about this letter?”

“Abe and I had a beach home down at Gulf Shores, Alabama. After our divorce and then his death, I just didn’t have the heart to visit the place. I rented it out over the summer and finally worked up the nerve to come down here for a few days. Evidently, one of our renters checked the mail and retrieved an envelope addressed to me from Abe. She must have forgotten to tell me about it, because I just found it on the counter in a stack of junk mail.”

“And what does the letter say?”

“Well, that’s just it. There is no letter, just a key and a sticky note. It’s in Abe’s handwriting, and it says, ‘Kara – this is important.’”

Zach rubbed his chin, trying to figure out the next step. “Is there any sort of name or number on the key?”

“Yes, it has the word, ‘Prime,’ as well as a number, 00617134.”

“And you have no idea what this key might be for?” the lawman queried.

“No. Since our divorce, I had only spoken to Abe once. He called me a few days before he shot at that plane and told me he was sorry for everything.”

“Did he own any other properties? A lockbox? A storage bin?”

“Not that I know of. Our house in Houston was spacious, and Abe definitely wasn’t a hoarder. About the only thing my husband held onto over the years was bad memories.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to see if there’s any reference or record for that key. It also might help if you could send it to me. I’d be happy to give you a FedEx account number and my address.”

Kara agreed, jotting down the information and promising to send Zach the package next-day delivery.

After disconnecting the call, Zach dialed one of the lab technicians associated with the Department of Public Safety. “Can you do a database search on a particular key for me?”

The answer came less than an hour later. Abe Hendricks evidently had access to a bank lockbox in Houston – a lockbox that the FBI hadn’t been able to find.

“Yet another wonderful gift you have delivered, Ranger Bass. And it’s not even my birthday yet,” Major Alcorn stated, sarcasm thick in his tone. “Technically, we should hand this information over to the feds and be done with it. However, for some reason, our colleagues in Washington have a hard-on for one of my rangers. I suppose it might have something to do with a public, full-frontal assault that ended up on national television, but I can’t be sure about that.”

Zach nodded, fully understanding his boss’s frustration. He had apologized, more than once, and that was all he would offer.