April 2: Down to Earth (41 page)

"Yeah, but that was the military one," April assured her. "There are so many of the damn things buzzing around here, I think they went feral and are nesting in the trees breeding," she exaggerated. "The one he shot belonged to Disney. Then he crushed it into a cube around a chicken, so it would smell interesting in a couple days and shipped it back to them. Even I'm not that
artistic
," she admitted. "But I learn by observing," she noted brightly.

Even President Wiggen could see the humor in the chicken, enough to roll her eyes. But she settled the question before them. "Just call me Wiggen then. When I was a young woman in a law firm they couldn't decide what to call me and I wasn't going to put up with the crap of Honey and Dear, or they'd have thought they could order me to fetch their coffee and pat my bottom in a week. We called a truce with plain old Wiggen. I kind of miss it anyway. I take it you like April? She asked.

"That's entirely satisfactory. I'm not worried anyone will try to pat my bottom."

"I bet not," Wiggen agreed with a wry expression. "So Mr. Satos aren't you concerned you may not appear the loyal citizen, having an agent of Home as your house guest?"

"If that is meant as intimidation I resent it," Papa-san said mildly. "If you mean it as a serious question I'm not a USNA citizen and when I was a civilian employee of the DOD they never doubted my loyalty due to that. As a matter of fact I will assure you I never acted against the interests of my employers. I always knew you don't bite the hand that feeds you. However my employment is ended and if my daughter brings friends and colleagues home. I'll have anyone I wish under my roof." He had a flat, matter of fact tone, April found scary.

"It was meant as a serious question. Most people would be terrified to have such a house guest. But I don't think it matters, because obviously you don't intimidate worth a damn. Who did you work for under the DOD?"

"You should call and ask," he suggested. "I might be in violation of agreements to tell you, even now," he said.

"I'm the President. Don't you think I'm cleared to hear anything I want?"

"Technically yes," he agreed. "But I saw things that weren't passed up the line of command when I served and I bet this young lady," he said nodding at April, "has told me things about the Office of the President, you haven't been told."

"Such as?" she asked, skepticism written on her face.

"How President Hadley died last year," Papa-san said.

April looked surprised. "Do you really think the government doesn't know?"

"Oh, some part of the government knows, I'm sure. But I bet anything they didn't tell her," he said, pointing to the screen, or they would have changed who is guarding her, even though it wouldn't do a thing to help the root cause of the problem. It was a similar mess that prompted them to switch from the Secret Service to the Navy after all."

"President Hadley was killed and a bunch of others in the succession, when the bunker complex at Deepwell in West Virginia was destroyed by Home last year," Wiggen said with conviction and visible irritation. "What kind of conspiracy fantasy are you going to run past me? We've heard every variation, from Home getting help from flying saucers, to people reporting Home troops rampaging through the streets of Idaho."

"You want to tell her, or you think she won't believe you anyway?" Papa asked.

"I'm sure she has good biometric software, confirming what we believe about our statements," April pointed out. "So I'll tell her and if she doesn't believe us what's lost? Maybe she'll let me pick them up and remove them easier if she doesn't believe."

"Wiggen, they got President Hadley out safely at Deepwell. He didn't die in the bunker. But he was a raving nut case the last couple weeks and at the end he kept trying to go back in the bunker, even though it was plainly being destroyed. His security detail had to literally drag him outside the facility to safety. But when they tried to hand him off to another security detail outside, he refused to cooperate any further, unless the two who brought him out were lined up and executed before his eyes, for laying hands on him. They apparently were going to do just that, but the lieutenants who rescued him didn't appreciate his ingratitude and didn't agree with their reward, so they refused to surrender their arms and shot it out with the B team. They shot all of them dead and Hadley too."

Wiggen sat looking at them and her eyes went down to the side where they knew she was looking at the veracity of April's statement. She didn't look happy and she looked a little confused. "How could you possibly know such a thing? And if somebody told you this story, why would you believe them?"

"Because the two who shot their President dead, want to come to Home and contacted me to help. And although you have agreed not to restrict travel to Home, they figure they have a snowball's chance in hell of getting on a plane or shuttle, because of what they did. I totally agree with them, because I had to help my friend Don Adams get through Homeland Security at gunpoint just a couple weeks ago, or their thugs would have him in a cell, or a shallow grave right now, without my help. These two aren't bragging on the deed at all. They did it most reluctantly. It was clear at the time they didn't do it as a political act. They just were not the sort to go meekly to their slaughter. If it doesn't matter to you, we'll take them quietly. Their story isn't exactly complimentary to how your country treats its service people. So maybe keeping it quiet would be a fair trade for their exit."

"Let me check on something. I'll split the screen and allow you to watch." The screen split vertically and President Wiggen called to one of her guards, "Tell your commander I want him talking to me on my screen here, five minutes ago. I don't need him all dressed and fancied up, just awake."

A man in a white t-shirt appeared, in a surprisingly fast two minutes. He looked groggy, but he also looked worried. "Yes, Madam President. What can I do for you?"

"Are you familiar with the men that were in President Hadley's security unit last year and how they were organized?"

"No Ma'am. I assembled your detail from scratch, at the direction of my superior and I was advised there were none of the old unit available, to make use of their training. That was one of my first questions when I was tasked. I was also told that most of them were dead, in the destruction of Deepwell."

"Most of them? Did anyone tell you why any survivors wouldn't be retained?"

"No Ma'am, when you are asked to do high security work, you learn to proceed with what you are assigned, without asking a lot of questions. I've learned to trust my superior, to provide what I need to accomplish my task and not make a habit of too many questions, or I may create an impression I'm critical of my assignment, or my superior. I've found I have everything I need and sufficient support to accomplish my duty so far. The fact that the purges today didn't touch your detail should testify to that, I believe."

"Thank you Commander. I want to assure you I've found no fault with my security. I do however want some information about President Hadley's security group. Do you know if your superior would be able to answer any questions about that, or do you know someone else I should call?"

"Ma'am, I am not sure what information Captain Ridley my superior can provide, but I know no better source to direct you to. If he doesn't know what you want, he is in a much better position than I am, to advice you of a source."

"Thank you for your attention at this late hour. If you'd have your Captain call me immediately, I am through with you for the evening."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied smartly and saluted before disconnecting, even though he was in underwear.

"There's one happy man, to pass the call on to his boss," Papa-san told April. If President Wiggen still had their audio feed on she didn't acknowledge it.

The screen showed an older man, in even less time than the Commander had taken to appear, but he still managed to have a uniform shirt on, although it was missing any decoration and April had the hilarious thought, that if he were ordered to stand up, he might not have taken the time to put pants on.

"Captain Ridley. Are you at all familiar with the Security Unit President Hadley had protecting him and if there were any surviving members after the fall of the Deepwell bunker?"

"Yes Madam President, I was appointed to reconstruct the security group by Admiral Mason, after the fall of Deepwell. He  assigned the formation of that group to a Captain Robinson, who died in Deepwell. We found deficiencies in the performance of that group and I was charged with making sure those assigned your detail and others of similar stature performed better, so we determined none of the few surviving members would be assigned to the new unit. It was felt it would be better to start from scratch, rather than attempt to retrain men who had been very thoroughly conditioned to follow other scripts and doctrines."

"And the two lieutenants that escorted President Hadley from the Deepwell bunker. Has anyone ever been able to discover their whereabouts, or reconstruct the last moments of their actions as his guards?"

Captain Ridley looked like someone had driven a knife through his back. The healthy tan tone of his face, took about two seconds of awkward silence, to fade to a sweaty pallor.

"With all sincere respect Ma'am I wish you'd ask that question of Admiral Mason, as I am aware I am not privy to a great deal of the story."

"Tell me what you
do
know and perhaps we can salvage some fragment for you. Perhaps at least your freedom, or even your retirement."

They had never heard such a devastating cold blooded threat, phrased as a possible reward. If that was the reward who wanted to hear the possible punishments?

"I was told some members of the security detail that day fought among themselves and abandoned their posts under fire and are still AWOL. Admiral Mason intimated that he thought they must actually be agents of Home, who had infiltrated us and were warned about the bombardment, so they could escape at the last moment. He also speculated that is how Home knew exactly where the bunker complex was located, despite elaborate efforts at secrecy. Thus we wanted to take no chance, by using anyone vetted to the duty from before."

President Wiggen again had the downward glance that said she was consulting her software. "Did he say anything to you about President Hadley being rescued from the bunker and being killed outside the complex?"

"Absolutely not!" Captain Ridley exclaimed. "Everything I have been told by Admiral Mason, indicated the President died in the bunker."

"You're hiding something Captain. This is not the right time, nor am I the right person to hide
anything
from, if you want my consideration when this is all resolved. What else do you know, besides what Admiral Mason told you?"

"Everything else I have heard, is of the nature of gossip and barracks rumors. I honestly can't say that any of it I heard has any solid basis, or any truth at all. To spread such rumors is dangerous. I honestly wish nobody had burdened me with stories, I have no way to confirm. It's a no win sort of situation. If I have no proof, better to forget them."

"Very smart, but the software says that no matter how hard you try, you
do
remember them enough to have doubts and concerns, that show up biometrically. Now I understand your disclaimer and I respect that. But I order you to tell me what the scuttle-butt has been."

Ridley looked sick. "I was told that a number of the President's evacuation team were found shot to death in a motor home, some distance from the Deepwell bunker and that the vehicle was looted and burned in a remote area of Pennsylvania. The men who guarded it, said the forensic team did not allow any of the normal troops to approach at all and although the dead were officers, they were buried privately in a military cemetery like enlisted men and not returned to their families. But nobody said
anything
about the President making it out of Deepwell," he insisted. Wiggen looked down again and nodded like she was agreeing with his last statement.

"Thank you," I believe that is a full statement now. You are to remain at your home until I have you contacted. Please don't consider it an arrest. I'd describe it as protective custody. You are not to call anyone, for any purpose. You will have a guard arrive shortly to protect you and if you have any needs they will see to them. I don't believe it will last more than a day, or perhaps two. I believe you acted to the best of your ability to perform your duty and I won't see you scape -goated for it. Goodnight," she said.

She called the guard over she had initiated the first call and briefly told him to have guards posted to Captain Ridley's residence on her orders, with the chain of command not to proceed through Admiral Mason. Then she called her Secretary of Defense and told him to have Admiral Mason's residence cut off electronically and surrounded, before having him put under arrest and held without questioning, until her instructions were forwarded. On a little further thought, she added to put him under a suicide watch.

"Jay," she asked her Secretary, "Who would I ask, to determine if a foreign national was hired as a civilian employee of the DOD and what his history was?"

"A techie or a spook?" Jay wanted to know.

"A spook I think. Japanese by his looks and name."

"Almost all of them would be CIA, or one of their cover companies. NSA hardly ever hired anyone not a citizen, except for translating masses of documents, for things like technical manuals. Never intelligence or political documents."

"Then get me the head of the CIA on the screen, when you are done with the good Admiral," she instructed.

"Bob is off in Iran, uh, Persia I mean," the Secretary reminded her. "It's into his morning there, so it will be hard to yank him out of whatever he into with the locals now. Why don't you just go with the Deputy? John will probably not know who you are asking about himself, but he can call the right clerk up a lot easier here from Virginia, than Bob can from the Protectorate. And a lot less chance somebody will see the high priority traffic and figure out something is going on." He paused just a second. "Not that anything is going
on
," he corrected. "You call me up early in the morning to arrest Admirals every Tuesday."