Uncivil Liberties (24 page)

“The Pentagon will claim we need to invade another foreign country. Politicians will claim it’s a law enforcement problem. But even if the cops make some headway, whenever they appear to be successful, the liberal court judges will reverse their actions. If any of the invaders are actually caught, the ACLU will defend them and the courts will turn them loose to kill again. The politicians are genetically spineless and physically timid—if not cowardly—always sniffing the wind before they make a decision. They’ll fear the loss of power more than they fear the loss of liberty.” More heads nodded and some verbal assents rumbled throughout the room.

“
We
,” Campbell said, again sweeping his arm from left to right, “America’s
true
patriots, are
not
so restricted.
We
will defend America, beginning right here, right now, in this room.
We
will seek out and destroy the rag-heads, the invaders, those who think they can come here and kill our women and children.
We
are America’s first line of defense.
We
are the leadership cadre. We will patrol the highways, protect our cities, and hunt down these vermin.
We
will kill these animals wherever we find them. Our numbers are few, but once the word is out, we’ll grow. Many of you served on the Arizona border with the Minutemen. Other like-minded patriots will flock to
our
banner. Americans will finally listen to
our
call. And we, the American Brigade Command … we
will
be ready.”

Shouts of agreement rose, some men took to their feet and began clapping and within two minutes, Thor Campbell, commander of the Blackfoot Brigade, had pulled the disparate cluster of disgruntled men together through common cause. The American Brigade Command, quickly dubbed the ABC, had been formed.

Senator Andrew Forrest Culpepper, Democrat from Tennessee and a direct descendent of Nathan Bedford Forrest, the infamous Civil War Confederate general, was attired in his trademark white linen suit, a thick mane of curly silver hair offset by long, bushy sideburns and eyebrows. To most, his presentation was a century out of date. His fleshy jowls and rotund bulk betrayed a lack of physical exercise, but his well-known propensity for penetrating intellectual debate overrode the physical shortcomings which caused the uninformed to dismiss the man.

Culpepper sat at the center of the assembled committee members and began to bang his gavel, calling the meeting to order. In total, ten men and three women, senators and representatives from their respective committees, sat around the green, felt cloth-covered dais which had been arranged into a semi-circle. In front of their raised platform was a standard, rectangular witness table, also green felt-covered and equipped with three microphones. Three additional men, each in civilian clothes, sat quietly before the committee members; Secretary of Homeland Security William Austin, Brigadier General Pádraig Connor, and White House legal counsel Adam Brooks. The witness table was clear of any documents or books, the three men sitting in silence, their hands folded on the table. In contrast to standard congressional committees, most of which were open to the public, the room had been sealed and no viewers sat in the audience. Two uniformed guards stood outside the doors, barring admission to the curious passerby or determined reporter seeking an inside scoop.

Senator Culpepper cleared his throat, looked left and right down the line of committee members, and began his oratory, his well-known Deep-South drawl stretching out the words and displaying his flamboyant propensity for southern articulation.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.  Thank y’all for coming. We should not have to detain y’all too long, if my understanding of the facts is correct. They are, of course, indisputable. We’re here this morning to investigate the complete and utter failure of this president and his lackluster administration to protect the American people. The terrible tragedies that have befallen innocent Americans these past several weeks are despicable, and our failure to apprehend those cowards who perpetrated these actions leaves no room for equivocation in our investigation.  The American people demand nothing less than a total change in the administrative structure that has failed to protect them. This committee has a solemn duty, a clear and definable task laid out before us. Because of the failures of this administration, failures, I might add, that would not have happened if we had a competent president…”

Without speaking a word to his two companions, Secretary Austin pushed away from the table, rose from his chair, and began to exit the room. He was followed immediately by General Connor and Adam Brooks.

“Mr. Secretary, Mr.
Secretary
,” Culpepper boomed, “may I ask what you are doing, sir? We have only just begun our meeting.”

Austin paused, stepping back to grasp the riser behind his chair. “Mr. Chairman, as much as I respect this committee and the congress that authorized its charter, we have far more important issues at stake than a partisan campaign to assess how one political party may gain public acclaim over the purported inaction of another political party. If you will excuse us, Senator, we shall leave to carry on with our duties.”

Culpepper banged his gavel again, looking to his committee members for support.  “You will do no such thing, Mr. Secretary. You will sit down immediately and will respond to the formal inquiry of this legally constituted committee.”

Austin began to walk toward the back of the room and Culpepper resumed banging his gavel. “This committee, sir, has the authority to
compel
your presence, and it shall do so forthwith.”

Austin stopped once again, turning back to face the committee. Pug Connor and Adam Brooks stood quietly at his side. “Mr. Chairman,” Austin replied, “you have every right to compel my presence if this bi-partisan committee, in
consensus
,” he said, sweeping his hand to reflect the entire committee, “agrees with your request.” He paused to look at the remaining committee members, each of whom had been silent throughout this unusual opening gambit. “However, Senator, I believe that the majority of the members on this committee are aware that America is under attack by a foreign…” he paused a moment, considering his words, “… and, unfortunately, even a domestic enemy. They are aware that the safety and security of our people hangs in the balance. And they are aware, Senator, that political grandstanding to exacerbate the discomfort of our national leaders, including my commander-in-chief, is not in the best interest of our national security. And I, sir, have little time for political posturing or blatant misuse of elected power. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other duties to perform.” Austin turned to head for the door, Culpepper resorting once again to banging his gavel.

Before Austin reached the committee room door, a soft, feminine voice rose from behind the dais, her microphone amplifying her smooth contralto tones. Her voice was stark in respect to the chairman’s raspy bleating. “Secretary Austin, if you will grant me a moment of your time, please,” she said.

Austin stopped immediately and turned to face his questioner. “Senator McKenzie,” he said, his voice conciliatory and a gentle smile playing across his face, “it would be my honor to answer your question.”

Senator Rachel McKenzie, Republican from Kansas and a strikingly attractive woman in her late thirties—early forties, when she admitted it—turned toward the chairman of the committee and addressed him directly. “Mr. Chairman, if I may have the floor for just a moment.”

Culpepper leaned back in his chair. “If you can do something,
anything
to bring this meeting to order, Senator McKenzie, the Chair will be most grateful.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. “Mr. Secretary, please understand that we—this bi-partisan committee—are, as you have indicated, highly aware of the gravity of the current status of our nation. I concur with you, sir, that this is not the time for political divisiveness or party politics. This is the time for American unity. For political cohesiveness. For cooperation, indeed
joint
action against what seems to be an impenetrable cadre of terrorists who are wreaking havoc with our national sense of security. And I can also assure you, Mr. Secretary, that this committee, comprised of
both
houses of our Congress and representing
all
political spectrums contained therein…” she paused, looking up and down the row of her fellow members, “…seeks answers to the difficult problems we face.”

Her smile grew broader and her face softened as her body language appealed to the man standing before her. “Mr. Secretary, we
need
you here today. America needs you here today.
I
need you here today. I honor your selfless service to our country over the past four decades and perhaps more importantly, I have learned—
personally
learned in difficult times—to trust your word. If you would give us your valuable time this morning, I assure you that we will cease any semblance of partisan bickering and together, as Americans, we will strive to find a defensive solution to our current problems. Speaking personally, General, I blame no one person, no particular party, and certainly not the president of the United States. It is the enemy we should despise, and, with all due respect to our esteemed chairman, it is not our political opposition that is on trial this morning. Will you grant me that simple request, General, and remain with us?”

Throughout her brief comments, General Austin had recalled with clarity the moment in 1971 when Air Force Major James Thompson, Senator McKenzie’s father, flying as Captain Austin’s squadron commander with Austin as wingman over the DMZ in Vietnam, had transmitted a warning that he had spotted two Russian SAM missiles rising from behind their flight formation. The memory was no less clear then on the day it had happened, and seldom had been far from his thoughts over the past forty years. The fireball that engulfed Major Thompson’s F-4 Phantom had literally disintegrated the aircraft, destroying his ejection seat and any hope of egress for the pilot.

And then Austin thought of the years of friendship he and his wife, Christine, had shared with Thompson’s widow, Charlotte Thompson, as she struggled to raise their only child, a one-year-old daughter named Rachel. The Austins had served as grandparents to the young girl, watching as Charlotte, thirty-two at the time of her husband’s death, had never remarried, struggling to rise from the devastation of such an early life tragedy.

Eventually, young Rachel had grown to maturity, completed law school, married Richard McKenzie, also a lawyer, and borne two daughters of her own. Then, in a twist of nature’s irony, four years earlier, Richard had been killed by an IED in Iraq while he was serving on deployment as a company commander with his National Guard unit. And now here Rachel sat, a United States Senator from her home state of Kansas. Austin had carried the weight of this knowledge for many years, a young woman bereft of father and husband, both killed in war three decades apart.

Austin replied. “Senator McKenzie, out of my understanding of the importance of our present objectives and my heartfelt respect for your personal sacrifice to this country, we will consent to remain and respond to the inquiries of this committee. I fully appreciate the importance of our task. But if the remaining committee members would please understand, I will not waste our precious time or resources in defending unwarranted accusations against my commander-in-chief. I serve at the pleasure of the president of the United States. He is tasked with the defense of our nation. His administration requires the support of both houses of Congress, and both political parties, to accomplish that mission. An attack on our nation is not the president’s personal fault, but a unified response to that attack is certainly within the definition of his job duties, as it is within mine. I intend, to the best of my ability, to fulfill that responsibility. As I see it, regardless of party affiliation, we are here to help him, not to hinder him, in the achievement of that objective. If that can be agreed, then my colleagues and I are at your disposal.” Austin turned his eyes toward the chairman of the committee. “Senator Culpepper, is that an agreeable premise?”

The scowl on Culpepper’s face was evident even from the distance where Austin stood. “Mr. Secretary, as a member of this august body for nearly thirty years, I will not be gagged and bound by any rules you deem to place upon this committee. We have difficult and pertinent questions to ask of you this morning. I will say and ask what I feel is in the best interest of the American people.”

Austin nodded. “Agreed, Mr. Chairman. By all means, please ask your most difficult questions, extract from us anything necessary to help us reach acceptable measures to counter this attack. But Senator, I submit, notwithstanding your long years of dedicated service, that we can press the inquiry without hyperbole. We need not denigrate anyone to achieve these objectives.” Austin paused, lowered his head, and contemplated his next thoughts for several long, quiet moments, during which Senator Culpepper held his gavel, appearing prepared to interject, then Austin began to speak in a soft, almost humble, tone.

“Senator, I am not a politician. I was a serving Air Force officer for thirty-five years, then served with our civilian intelligence community, but I have only recently entered these hallowed halls in my present incarnation. I plead guilty to ignorance of the diplomacy required to initiate an inquiry such as we pursue this morning, but innately, I believe it can be done honorably and without guile. Can we not seek joint solutions without casting individual aspersions? Can we not work together as Americans, not as Democrats or Republicans? I can assure you, sir, the task at hand is difficult enough without our being internally divisive.”