This week: What we were, we will never be again.
48 States: Chapters 34 & 35
THIRTY FOUR
THAT AFTERNOON, Elizabeth sat uneasily in her car as it sped towards the Convention Center, a shiver of dread creeping up her spine. The Secret Service insisted she travel alone in an unmarked car for security purposes. Despite a late afternoon briefing confirming Red was still in Virginia, she was worried about being ambushed. Elizabeth knew from her time as Secretary of State that the Russians excelled at executing officials in public. She had no desire to die on the open road like some enemy of the Kremlin when she had just repaired her marriage and reunited with her family.
After what seemed like an eternity, her motorcade arrived at the Convention Center, and she expelled the breath she’d been holding. A secret service agent opened the door within seconds of her vehicle pulling up to the curb. Two more agents shadowed her as she entered the massive facility, using the rear loading dock, and more agents surrounded her as she walked through the rear doors. She was relieved when she stepped inside and found her entourage waiting in the hallway.
“There is the star of the show,” Richard said, coming forward to greet her. “Tonight is your night, Elizabeth. Try to look ahead at what you are about to do, the legacy you leave behind. I promise Red’s deeds will pale in comparison when all is said and done.”
“If you weren’t an expert in American history, I might think you were just trying to butter me up,” she said.
“You’re long overdue for a compliment,” he replied. “Especially one from your husband.”
Elizabeth smiled and took Richard’s hand, leading them back to her suite of private rooms to pass the time until her speech. Elizabeth reviewed documents that required her attention. Richard had unearthed an old picture puzzle of the United States from the train’s library, complete with notable landmarks such as Mt. Rushmore and the Statue of Liberty. It was 1,000 pieces, plus or minus, and carried the familiar scent of dusty cardboard. He’d set it up on a table in the corner of the room. River was carrying a few things Richard lent her from his library in Wyoming. She’d been curious about an old dog-eared biography of a woman named Kay Graham, who’d been the publisher of the Washington Post, a newspaper she thought had been founded by the CEO of Amazon. There had also been a copy of poems by E.E. Cummings, a poet River had been obsessed with since high school. None of those diversions worked on Finn, though. He could barely sit still, the apprehension causing his legs to vibrate. The tap, tap, tap of his hiking boot finally pulled River’s nose out of her book.
“He’s been like that since he was born,” Elizabeth said, noticing her son fidgeting. “When he was little, I solved the problem by opening the back door and letting him run outside.”
Finn smiled. “She’s right,” he said. “I need to roam.”
“It is beginning to feel a little confining,” Richard said. “Soon we’ll all be out of this place. It’s too bad you didn’t bring some flies to tie.”
Finn smiled. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to be fishing right now,” he said. “Outside in the sun, knee deep in a river.”
“That even sounds good to me,” Elizabeth said. “And I am the least enthusiastic of us three.”
“Patience, everyone,” Richard said. “That day will come.”
Eventually, the knock on the door they’d been waiting for arrived, and an agent popped his head inside the room. “It’s time, Madam President,” he said. “The audience is taking its seats.”
Elizabeth set her laptop aside and rose from her chair, focusing her gaze on Richard. “Are you coming with me?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “Finn, you and River stay here. It’ll be easier if there are fewer of us to manage. You can watch the speech on the flat screen here in the room.”
“Of course,” River said. “We’ll hold down the fort.”
Elizabeth smiled. She liked River and admired her strength. She fervently hoped Finn had finally found someone he could walk into the wilderness with. She also hoped she would live through the night, live long enough to see her son happy.
“I’m ready,” Elizabeth said to the group. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Finn suppressed a shudder as his parents left the room, the frantic pulse of his blood whooshing in his ears. He leaned back against the wall, trying to get his bearings. This was why he lived like a hermit in Montana. He possessed physical grit and endurance in spades, but did not extend to emotional fortitude. His belly churned with worry at the possibility that somewhere in the audience lurked an individual with the power to end life as he knew it. He did not want to witness his mother’s murder.
“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” River said, noticing his discomfort. “Your mother is not a fool. She’ll follow directions. Security is posted everywhere. They’ll be safe.”
“And what happens after?” Finn asked. “I thought when we got here that everything would resolve itself. That life would go back to normal. But this is just the beginning of our troubles; it could be weeks or months before he’s caught. My mother will not be safe until he’s dead. We might not be safe.”
River shared Finn’s worries and then some, but the soldier inside her told her not to get too bogged down in the what-ifs of an unknown future.
“I’m as anxious as you are to put this mess behind us, but we have to try to stay calm and take one moment at a time,” she said, pulling out her gun. “I don’t want to frighten you, but I need to check my weapon. I want to make sure everything is ready…just in case. OK?”
“It’s fine,” Finn said, and then a moment later asked, “Do you really think the poem the director showed you belongs to a terrorist?”
River paused in her work, setting the clip of bullets down on the table. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not the kind of thing you usually see lying around.”
“The director thought it was possible,” Finn said. “But my father didn’t. You were a soldier. What does your intuition tell you?”
“You don’t need intuition to know something bad is going to happen regardless of where the paper came from,” she said. “I’m worried, too. I just don’t know what we’re looking for.”
“That makes three of us,” a voice from the doorway said.
Finn turned to see a hulking figure standing in the entryway. He was purposefully bald, a pair of aviator glasses tucked in the opening of his black fleece.
“I’m Cooper Smith,” he said. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Honestly, I’ve never had so much trouble trying to keep two people alive. Finn, you surprised the hell out of me, finding River like that. The way you two disappeared into thin air, well, you have my respect.”
Finn extended his hand. “You helped save our lives regardless,” he said. “Thank you.”
“It was a team effort,” Cooper replied, fixing his cobalt eyes on River. “I’d say your girlfriend had a lot to do with it.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Finn said. “I owe her my life.”
Cooper nodded, watching River. He walked right up to where she was seated, but she remained focused on her weapon. He knew she wouldn’t acknowledge him until she’d finished. He heard the safety snap into place. Only then did she look up as he began to speak.
“You’re one hell of a shot,” he said. “You blew that drone to pieces before I could flip the switch on the mic.”
“That was you?” River asked. “We thought it was a security team looking for us. There was no way for us to know.”
“I understand,” Cooper said. “You did the right thing. I’m impressed with you both. Hiking through Wyoming in late winter is not easy.”
“It was hardly winter,” Finn said. “This is a dry year compared to seasons past. It didn’t snow at all while we were hiking.”
“I’ve noticed myself,” Cooper said. “Do you think Red’s polluting the river has something to do with that?”
Finn laughed. “As evil as Red is, he isn’t responsible for global warming. The lack of snow is tied to choices made decades ago, but the rivers and their tributaries not freezing is probably his doing. He has a lot to answer for.”
“The man thinks he’s doing God’s work,” Cooper said. “That makes him dangerous.”
“You know he’s coming for us, don’t you?” River said. “Red. I don’t believe for a second that he doesn’t care.”
“At the moment, Red doesn’t know where you are,” Cooper said. “But I agree, if he knew, it would double his pleasure. Right now, though, he’s focused on trying to pull off this little coup of his. Red needs to demonstrate that he’s serious enough to carry through with his threat. He’s amassed a great following at his compound.”
“Or crazy enough,” River said. “This is going to end badly.”
“Maybe,” Cooper said. “It’s definitely going to end badly for Red. The question is how much will he get away with before that happens.”
“Did they tell you about the poem found outside the presidential compound?” River asked.
“The director showed it to me,” Cooper said, nodding. “He said you’d seen it before, translated it as part of your mission-based studies.”
“I did,” River said. “It makes no sense to find a copy here.”
Cooper sighed and pulled out a chair at the table next to her. “We supposedly neutralized that threat when we created the Territories,” he said. “The deportations and identification tags are supposed to make the existence of terrorists impossible. I think someone is trying to mess with us. The question is why.”
“This all sounds pretty crazy,” Finn said. “Why would anyone plant a poem pretending to be a terrorist?”
“To take advantage of the chaos,” River said. “To distract us so we look in the wrong place.”
“Are you saying there may be more than one person trying to kill my mother?” Finn asked.
“No,” Cooper said. “We’re just trying to get a handle on the situation. I’ll go check in with the Secret Service and the FBI. We’ve already doubled the security at the doors.”
River shook her head. “You’re looking in the wrong places,” she said grimly. “It’s going to be something we’re not expecting. In my experience, it is the things you can’t see that prove to be the deadliest.”
THIRTY FIVE
ELIZABETH AND RICHARD walked into the backstage area of the convention center, sidestepping frantic stagehands as they made last-minute preparations. It was a happy sight, she thought, to be the reason for which something exists or happens. Tonight, she felt as if she had a purpose beyond helping keep people safe. That was, of course, an important job, but this evening’s speech was something more significant. It was meant to inspire, reassure, and demonstrate leadership, tasks she’d longed to have on her plate. But not like this, not like tonight, when she would ask the audience to celebrate the country’s return to its centuries-old tradition of democracy through elections.
She listened intently as the evening’s opening act, a local poet from the University of Colorado, began to speak. An expert on the West, she was reading from a work entitled “The Great Migration.”
We go by wagon train, horse, and foot across the sage grass
Into the unknown for a better life, the dust of the day upon us
Our future as uncertain as the ever-diminishing outlines of our past
The din of the crowd drowned out most other noises, making conversation difficult. Elizabeth smiled and gently grasped Richard’s arm to indicate it was time for her to head towards the stage.
“Wait,” he said, leaning in close. “Before you go, I feel like I should…”
Elizabeth felt her stomach drop to the floor when she realized he was about to apologize again, trying to clear his conscience on the remote chance he might not see her again. Just in case she was stepping in front of a firing squad.
“Don’t,” she said.
“I can’t let you leave…”
“You have to,” she yelled over the noise. “We can go over all of this later. After the speech.” The emphasis of course was on after, as in I will return alive and unscathed, and she gave him a look of certainty, hoping it would quash his urge to revisit his mistakes.
“At least let me tell you I love you,” he said.
“And I you,” she said. “Now stop. You’ll see. It will be fine.”
As the President made her way towards the stage, she caught sight of the director pacing off to one side. She acknowledged his presence, mustering another show-must-go-on smile.
“Madam President, everything is going according to plan,” he said. “There are sharpshooters in every corner, and each one has a hidden backup whose identity is known only to me. If one of them goes down, the other will take his place.”
“Let’s hope it’s not needed,” she said. “I would hate to die on national television. It would be too much deja vu for the audience.”
“That’s not going to happen on my watch,” he said. “I give you my word.”
Elizabeth nodded, squeezing his hand to acknowledge his promise, which she knew he meant with every fiber of his being. But she also knew, despite her bravado with Richard seconds before, that no one could promise her safe passage.
She stepped onto the stage and into the blinding light, gazing at the thousands of people in the audience, some holding signs with her name on them, others waving American flags. Tears welled in her eyes as the intoxicating nature of adoration and celebrity washed over her. That’s it! The opiate that so many of her colleagues had desired over the years. It would be amazing, she thought, as her brain snapped back into place, if it didn’t include the threat of death lurking in the shadows. Undaunted, she stepped up to the podium, waved to the audience, adjusted the microphone, looked at the teleprompter, and took a deep breath.
Good evening, my fellow Americans.
It’s good to be with you here in Denver, the mile-high city, this evening. I’m excited to join you tonight in what marks my first public address in many, many months.
(PAUSE)
The first time I addressed the nation, I was a newly sworn-in President, reeling like all of you at the senseless violence that had taken place, but determined to be a leader and fill the shoes of my predecessor. In the days that followed, we buried our dead-the leaders of our great nation–with immense sorrow and bitterness at the abrupt and unjust taking of their lives.
(PAUSE)
The next time I spoke to the nation was just after an unimaginable attack against our country, one which unmoored us from our past trajectory as a country and sent us on a journey to mend our broken hearts, while protecting the nation from further brutality. The task was made more challenging because the Executive Branch was forced to act without the partnership and guidance of Congress. Over the course of those first, dark days, we made many difficult choices.
(PAUSE)
There is no joy in leadership that requires you to send people from their homes. There is no joy in leadership that restricts public assembly or discourse. To restrain the liberties of this nation and its people, even temporarily, is such a profound sea change–it felt as if we had landed on the moon, or some other distant planet, and were staring down from the heavens, wondering how we managed to travel so very far, far away from our home. The history books tell us our beloved American hero, Neil Armstrong, felt that his footsteps on the moon represented great progress for mankind, but our journey was propelled by grief; extreme measures were taken to protect our people from further danger.
(PAUSE)
No president wants to face the nation with timidity in their heart. It is our duty to reassure the country of our safety and well-being, and yet I know that two years ago I could not offer you such blanket assurances–I could only ask for your patience and faith that we as a nation would one day prevail and restore our equilibrium.
(PAUSE, BREATH)
Since then, I have been on a journey, speaking to you through statements and messages to the nation. But tonight, I am returning to the stage to provide an accounting of our work on behalf of this great nation. We are undeniably a country of before and after. What we were, we will never be again.
But we can and will evolve as a people, adopting new ideas and customs along the way. Just as our ancestors forged ahead into the great unknown of this once uncharted country to make our mighty nation, so will we reestablish our sense of destiny. We remain a country with a constitution and a devotion to the rule of law, but undeniably, we also remain ambivalent about what freedom means in an era of unrestrained terror and hatred.
(PAUSE, BREATH)
Creating the Territories was a dramatic act designed to ensure an independent United States, a country free of the encumbrances that create vulnerability. We succeeded in our goals, but not without cost. I speak, of course, of the refugee cities, where some of our fellow citizens sit in limbo, unable to move on from what was meant as a transitional place. We can and must find permanent homes for the remaining inhabitants of the refugee cities. I have been in touch with the governors of several states who have pledged to work with my administration to ensure everyone is placed in a new home in the next six months.
(PAUSE)
This kind of massive repatriation will require a significant investment on the part of the government. As President, once I declared a State of Emergency and Congress voted itself into recess, I became the keeper of our National Treasury. My executive orders set the stage for every action we’ve taken. I want to take this moment to thank the American people for granting me such latitude, knowing that it goes against the very grain of our nation’s founding principles. There are certainly some among us who would think me to be in the most envious of positions: a leader, sworn in rather than elected, and untethered from day-to-day oversight. I stand here tonight to tell you that there is no freedom in being disconnected from our country’s traditions and greatest conventions. I am, as I have been since the moment I assumed office, humbled by the responsibility bestowed upon me. There has not been one second of one day that I have not carried the sorrow and concerns of this nation upon my heart. It is a burden I gladly carry, for it is nothing compared to what many of you have experienced. The question we all ask ourselves is how do we remap our country? How do we reconnect our human geography and spirit? As I have traveled across our country, I have learned that this process can only happen organically as people begin to feel a sense of safety and purpose.
(PAUSE)
I am happy to report that we are mending as a nation, returning to our more joyous selves. Day by day, the majority of us have returned to our routines and rhythms of work and school, taking comfort in the mundaneness of simple things like shopping for groceries or seeing a movie.
(PAUSE)
Our regained stability brings about the next and most profound step in our national recovery: the reestablishment of Congress through national elections. We are, after all, a country meant to be governed by our peers, representatives from our own cities and towns, who know us in our daily lives. Many of you probably know I was once that person, having been elected to Congress to represent parts of Wyoming for many years before becoming Secretary of State.
I stand here tonight to urge all of you to participate in the upcoming elections. I know only too well how toxic the politics of our country can be, but we cannot shy away from our obligation to participate in our democracy. It’s time for a new generation of lawmakers to grapple with the issues we must face as a nation—immigration, national security, energy independence, and privacy. These are important debates that we have tabled during this time of healing and reconciliation, but we cannot put off facing them forever. In the moments of accelerated danger, we unraveled some very old traditions– primarily the assurance that our shores were open and available to everyone. We have instituted national identification programs and other forms of domestic security that should be reexamined. That is the purpose of Democracy—to challenge our leaders and our laws and put them under harsh scrutiny. Honest debate is the marrow of our country’s bones. We must broach difficult topics and speak of uncomfortable things to make good laws and policy.
(PAUSE)
Despite all that has happened, the United States remains a powerful idea, a powerful place. Our freedoms—such as they are—remain the envy of many and, yes, sadly, the rallying cry for a few rogue nations and their followers. But our destiny as a nation has never been tied to the opinions of other countries or governments. Indeed, we have always forged our own path and must do so again. Be assured that our country is well prepared to withstand a threat from its enemies. Our military is well-funded and thoroughly prepared to protect us from any threat, foreign or domestic. We have learned from those dark days and stand ready to face any foe. I say to you what President John F. Kennedy said to the public in 1961 as a part of his inaugural address:
“Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans, born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage…Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.”
I stand here tonight to assure you that we have survived with our liberty and sense of justice intact. I have nothing but the utmost confidence in our nation and its people. We have come so very far from those dark days two years ago. Our future looks bright, and it will only get better as we commit to participating in the upcoming elections and restoring our country’s democratic traditions. That will be the final step in restoring our nation to its full strength. I know I can count on you to help us reestablish one of our country’s most sacred traditions.
Thank you again for coming tonight to hear me speak.
May God bless you, and may God bless America.
Good night!
Elizabeth took a step back from the podium, stunned by the roar of the crowd. The audience was on its feet, clapping and cheering as she smiled and waved. She looked over at Richard, who was standing just far enough backstage to stay hidden from the audience. He was smiling, his eyes damp. “B-R-A-V-O,” he mouthed to her as the crowd cheered. She turned back to face her audience, waving one last time before walking off stage, her body vibrating with victory. She’d done it: sent out a rallying cry, and somehow managed to survive the evening without being shot. It was turning out to be a good night.
Thanks for reading 48 States! Please follow me on social media and check out The Council Trilogy, my latest urban fantasy series.