America Rising (25 page)

F
or a few hours that same Monday morning I was blessedly oblivious to the drama taking place in Washington D.C. At least until Jeff O’Neill called.

I’m normally at my computer before the sun comes up, but it was one of those gorgeous South Florida spring days and I was playing hooky at the beach, sipping coffee and idly thumbing through a trashy novel. I did, however, bring my electronic ball and chain so when my cellphone lit up with Jeff’s name I felt just guilty enough to answer.

My mistake.

“Are you at your computer?
Are you at your computer?!”
Jeff’s an excitable guy, but he sounded as if he was about to take a flying leap out of his skin. I was still at the beach, figuratively and literally. So that’s what I said.

“Uh. . . No, Jeff, I’m not. . . I’m at the beach,”

“Jesus Motherfucking Christ! Get your ass to your motherfucking computer.
Now!
Move, move, move!”

“For god’s sake, what
is
it?”

“It’s only the most goddam fucking important story in modern American history, you lazy sack of shit. Get to your computer! Now, now, now! And don’t hang up the motherfucking phone.”

So I went, spilling coffee all over myself in the process. And I didn’t hang up the motherfucking phone. How else would I have heard Jeff’s
sotto voce
muttering, “Goddam fucking hippie. . . at the motherfucking beach. . . goddam beach bum. . . most important story. . . at the shit-eating beach. . . Mother Mary and Joseph. . .”

Did I mention that Jeff used a lot of bad language?

Trailing sand and dripping coffee from my front door to my office, I flicked on my laptop and said, “Okay, Jeff. Get a grip. I’m here.”

“Pull up my email and read it. Then click on the link!
Click on the link!”

I was already tired of all the drama but I found Jeff’s email and opened it up. I stared, shook the disbelief out of my brain. Stared again. Then I almost took a flying leap out of my own skin.

“Ho-lee shit! This is un-fucking-believable!” I shouted, my excitement almost matching Jeff’s. “Is this real? How did we get it? Who did this? Who sent it to us? Does anyone else have it?” I had a million more questions. I couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

“Get a grip, Josh,” Jeff O’Neill said dryly.

I watched the video with the sound turned down in one browser window and scanned the transcript in another. It truly was unbelievable. For news junkies like Jeff and me, it was the Rosetta stone, the Arc of the Covenant and the Fountain of Youth all rolled into one. Of its veracity I had no doubt. Whatever had been done to Joe Josephson to force him to cough up these jewels made no difference to me. He’d done worse to better people. Or had it done. Tough shit for him.

Finally I tore myself away from the computer and back to Jeff.

“Amazing stuff,” I said, still in awe at the scope and detail of the revelations. “I’d like to shake the hand of whoever squeezed this out of a scumbag like Josephson. Now, about the video. Do we know who made it? Do we know if it’s true? Is Josephson alive? Do we know where he is? Do we know where the kidnappers are? Have they been arrested? What about a response from the White House? Have they said anything?”

I had to stop and take a breath. The enormity of the story was overwhelming.

“This just popped up on our site twenty minutes ago,” Jeff O’Neill said. “All we know so far is that the video has been hacked onto the websites on all the major metro dailies, networks, cable stations. It’s already burning up the ‘Net. We’ve got a call into the White House press sec but they’ve got to be in full panic mode and we’re not going to hear anything until they get their story straight.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want everyone to bite off their own piece of this thing. Focus on the stuff that most impacts your area, start with the recent stuff and work backwards. Confirm what you can. Flesh out the details. Don’t bother with the
pro forma
denials; MSM will be all over that. We don’t need to restate other people’s bullshit.

“Also, check to see if there’s anything in there about that Tutis International business, about Genesis Group and their thugs. And give me a heads-up on local reaction. When people get a good look at this thing the shit is going to hit the fan. Big time. Feed me copy as soon as it’s done. I’m putting together a group here that will take everything from all of you in the field and work it into the big picture. Oh, and one more thing, Josh.”

“Yes?”

“Be careful. Some very powerful people have just been exposed. They’re backed into a corner and are capable of just about anything.”

“I know, Jeff. Not a problem.”

It wasn’t now. But it would be.

* * *

It took only minutes for the Joe Josephson video to go viral. Traffic on the Internet exploded, then slowed to the pace of the evening commute. It took only minutes more for Ray Carmody to gather the executives of the country’s four telecommunications companies and major media outlets for a video conference call from the Oval Office.

President Elias was still shaken by Joe Josephson’s revelations but she bore down with the grim resolve of someone who has no other choice. When Ray Carmody signaled her listeners were all in place, he brought up the video and audio links. A dozen nervous executive stared fixedly into web cameras, appearing on a large split-screen monitor. The president didn’t waste any time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to dispense with the usual platitudes and pleasantries today. I don’t have to tell you what a dangerous situation this morning’s events have created. If the charges made by the former vice president this morning go unrefuted, if they gain traction in the public mind, then the future of every one of us here and of the nation as we know it are at terrible, terrible risk.

“First, let me say that vice president Joe Josephson is in our care and custody. He was, in fact, abducted by a group of domestic terrorists during his speech in San Francisco, an action my administration reluctantly denied out of fear for his health and safety. I have more information on that, which I will give you a little later.

“Now, to the issue at hand. I have consulted with my chief of staff, Ray Carmody, whom you all know and respect and is in the room with me here today. I have also spoken with members of the Cabinet and other advisors. Together, we have developed a plan that I believe will contain and neutralize the allegations set forth in today’s video. It is imperative that you follow this plan precisely, that you set aside any differences with this administration and with each other, that you think beyond your short-term goals and profitability. All of us are facing a ruthless and, frankly, an exceedingly skillful adversary. If we don’t hang together, as Benjamin Franklin said, we will surely hang separately.

“The first and most crucial step is to take down that video. Every minute it is up on your websites is a dagger into the heart of our system of government. I am making available all the resources of my office to—”

A delicate cough broke into Nancy Elias’s soliloquy. She frowned and glared at the image of the offender. It was Leslie Goldberg, CEO of Entertainment Inc., a multimedia company that owned newspapers, web publications, TV and radio stations, and production studios.

“I’m sorry, Madam President,” she said, nervously fingering her wedding ring. “Please forgive me for interrupting. But I’m afraid it’s not going to be that simple. We’ve been trying to take down the video since the moment it showed up but we don’t seem to be able to.”

There were murmurs of assent from the other media potentates.

“I don’t understand the technical issues,” she continued. “But my people tell me it has some sort of self-replicating properties. Like a virus. Like squeezing toothpaste in a tube—you shut it off in one place and it pops out the other. They assure me they can take it down. But it’s going to take some time.”

The president hid her disappointment well. “Thank you, Leslie.” Then to Ray Carmody: “Please see that Leslie and everyone here gets immediate assistance with this.” She turned back to the monitor and continued.

“The second step may help with that problem. This is for Jim, Hassan, Emily and Walter—our telecommunications representatives here. I would not ask you to ‘shut off the Internet,’ as some of my advisors have suggested. But I am told that this video has already caused an unprecedented increase in traffic, so much so that it has dramatically slowed the entire system. Until we can get a handle on this situation, I expect traffic to only increase, which combined with several unforeseen technical issues, will contribute to an even more dramatic slowdown. You will, of course, be working diligently to resolve these issues and restore service to normal levels, but unfortunately this problem is expected to last for several days, perhaps even weeks. Do I understand your situation correctly?”

The four executives, whose firms controlled virtually all Internet access in the country, swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good,” Nancy Elias said. “Step three. To Jerry and Michael: I know your search engines use complex algorithms to find and display search results. In light of this morning’s events, you might want to review those algorithms, to make sure they’re not contributing to the undermining of our national security. I’m not suggest you ban searches for certain words or phrases; that is the action of a dictatorship afraid of its own people. I’m merely suggesting that you note the identities of people who visit potential terrorist sites and pass that information on to duly constituted authorities.

“And, finally, step four. To the rest of you: At the end of this session I will announce a press conference to address the allegations made in the video of the former vice president and the circumstances of his abduction. I will say that my administration did conceal the facts and the very existence of that crime out of fear for the vice president’s life. And I do not apologize for doing so.

“I will also say that the vice president was rescued this morning by an elite anti-terrorist team, which has been tracking the group that abducted him for several months. During this rescue attempt, which occurred in a remote area of Northern California, all of the terrorist kidnappers were killed, but unfortunately not before one of the terrorists critically wounded the vice president. He was immediately taken to a local hospital and stabilized, then moved to a secure military facility where his care continues.

“Despite the severe nature of his wounds, he was conscious enough to deny each and every allegation contained in that video, which he made under the influence of drugs and only after days of brutal torture and beatings. These last have already been confirmed by his doctors. For his brave resistance past the point at which most men would have broken, vice president Joe Josephson is an American hero and will be honored as such by my administration.”

Nancy Elias let a long, portentous silence underscore the gravity of her announcement. Then, her eyes hard:
“That
is the story. Do I make myself clear? I don’t want to see some snot-nosed reporter running around repeating vile, baseless, treasonous accusations; impugning the reputations of many fine public servants; and casting unwanted and unwarranted aspersions on our system of government and our very way of life. So control your people, ladies and gentlemen, for your own good and the good of the country.”

The president paused once more and softened her tone. “That is all I have to say for now. I want to thank you for agreeing to meet like this, and for your cooperation and support during the difficult days ahead.”

“Excuse me, Madam President.” It was Leslie Goldberg again. “One question, if I may?”

“Yes?”

“All that. . . everything. . . in the video. It’s not true, is it?”

Nancy Elias could barely contain her exasperation.

“Does it really matter?”

T
he big-time shit that Jeff O’Neill predicted took less than twenty-four hours to develop. By Monday evening spontaneous demonstrations had erupted in cities throughout the country, groups of ten or twenty or a hundred or a thousand marching on government offices and businesses, congregating in public places or taking to the streets. They were scattered and disorganized, little more than group venting sessions, but the demonstrators’ anger and sense of betrayal were palpable.

Tuesday saw more of the same. Groups of protestors—now numbering in the tens of thousands—blocked streets, took over blocks surrounding state and federal buildings, Congressional offices and banks, the corporate headquarters of oil and insurance companies, media conglomerates, any firm mentioned in Joe Josephson’s video. In Washington, D.C., demonstrators massed in front of the White House, for a time shutting down Pennsylvania Avenue. In New York they swarmed the Financial District, cutting it off from the rest of the city and forcing brokers to spend the night in their offices.

Wednesday, the demonstrations grew larger and more numerous but still leaderless and disorganized. Police departments taken unawares by the suddenness and randomness of the protest regrouped and pushed back hard. There were hundreds of little confrontations—angry words exchanged, rocks thrown, billy clubs swung. It was the toothpaste tube analogy all over again, squads of armored police squeezing protestors out of one area, only to see them pop up in another.