The Crimson Fall (The Sons of Liberty Book 1) (15 page)

“What are you saying?” Adam asked. “You don’t think we can stop him?”

“What I’m saying is either by the law . . . or the gun, we need to do everything we can to stop him.”

Adam sat back in his chair and spoke softly under his breath. “You’re talking about assassination?”

“I think assassinating him would just make him a martyr. He has to have others waiting to take up the torch and run if he drops dead, may it be so one day. Besides, I am afraid killin’ the man would be near impossible, however much I wish it.”

“Ma’am, no disrespect, but just say what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m saying my husband was the co-owner of H.C. Industries before he died, and it is now one of the largest defense contractors in the country. I never found proof of foul play, but I know that he murdered my husband and in all probability married Sue for political reasons. Mike was a healthy fifty-five year old man when he died of a heart attack. Lukas’ father then took the company over and ran it until his
unfortunate
suicide. At the time of my husband’s death he was worth over seven hundred million dollars and I was the sole beneficiary of his estate, though my voting shares were liquidated, supposedly as ordered by the board of directors and interpreted in my husband’s
new
will. All I know about the president’s corruption is what my daughter told me, but I didn’t need to hear any more to put it all together. I realized he is planning to use his company’s new technology and his new political power for his own personal coup d'état.”

“Are you saying you think he’s planning a . . . takeover?” Adam asked disbelievingly.

“I’m saying that I trusted her with all my heart and that I don’t think for a moment he’s merely hiding murder. I think he’s hiding something much darker; something that he wants to remain hidden until he can afford to put it out there in plain sight. So I’ve gone to work. Now, I have forty-something trusted friend and agents, if you want to call them that. Some you’ve already met while others . . . well let’s just say some secrets might be best for everyone. They’re spread out over the nation ready to take up the fight if it starts. That might not seem like much, but don’t worry, they’re not really the soldiers this war will be won with.”

“Who are they?”

“They are the legends that will be spoken of in the history books years from now when this is all over. They are the generals, the politicians, the brilliant minds, and the suppliers that will win this war, and they are gatekeepers to the storerooms of freedom. Over the past four years, I have spent much of my fortune stockpiling weapons, ammo, gear, medicine, food, and you name it. Here, I have a map just for you.” She pulled a United States map out from a bookcase next to her. “The black circles indicate the twelve locations across the nation that you’ll know of. The others don’t know about these sites just like you won’t know about theirs. They each hold food, medicine, and almost five thousand guns and enough ammunition to make a redneck weep for joy. The guns aren’t anything fancy—I left most of those for the military men—but they do work. Some hunting rifles, shotguns, but a few battle rifles as well. Study this map, memorize where everything is, and then burn it and tell no one of what you know. We will need everything we can get if the fighting starts.”

“My brother’s final letter talked about food supplies and medications,” Adam said. “Is that what this is? Do you know something about what he discovered? He also mentioned a drone army. Have you heard anything about that?”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose as he spoke, but she sat back and shook her head.

“That’s . . . interesting, but I am sorry. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know your brother and this is the first I’ve heard of any drone army. We’ll do what we can to unearth more about that; pray it isn’t as bad as it sounds. What I do know is hunger is a powerful thing. It creates both warlords and desperate men to follow them. Each one of those sites could feed a couple thousand people for a year. Maybe more. Beyond that, I know nothing about what he’s planning with food or medication.”

Adam nodded his head.

“Well I’m afraid we are out of time. Off you go now. And don’t think I forgot this.” She handed him a jar of the promised hot sauce. “Best you’ll find anywhere, by my book. Now go get yourself something to eat and some rest. You’ve got quite a bit of work to do. Just remember if the bullets start flying, I don’t think I can be much of help with a rifle, but I’ll be the friend you’ll need beforehand. The friend we all need, I suppose. I hope this helps when you, yes you, Adam Reinhart, take up the flag and charge forward. They will need a strong leader and I see that in you. I really do. Here, take these.”

Elizabeth gave him a polished box, heavy and luxurious, and a simple brown bag with something weighty inside.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“The box is for your mission. I figure to have the man give you access to his most prized revolver you must first show him the one you can claim is second to none.”

He opened the box and gawked. The revolver inside was polished like a diamond, fully adorned raised markings of gold snaking their way around the barrel and handle. Inside were six bullets, each with matching markings of their own.

“And I’m told those rounds would actually fire,” she said, “should anyone ever desire to do so.”

He closed the box back up and opened the brown bag. Inside was another handgun wrapped in cloth: a weathered and plain gray Nineteen-Eleven.

“And is this for some other diabolical scheme of yours?” Adam asked with a touch of sarcasm.

“Oh Congressman, don’t play the part of a fool. You’re far too charming for it to do you any good. But I reckon if you would label fighting for your life as a potential scheme of yours, well then perhaps it is what you say it is. It might not be pretty but it shoots true. My prayer is you never need to use it.”

“Mine too, Mrs. Holt,” he said. “Mine too.”

“Well, well,” she said with a victorious smile, “it looks like I might make a praying man out of you yet.”

Six hours later Adam was back in his car with a phone number in hand. He had debated the rest of the day on what to do. He knew without whatever Suzanne Chambers had hidden he had no chance of peacefully stopping the president. If Elizabeth was right, and Adam was struggling to believe otherwise, then the real danger was far greater than a simple cover-up or a misguided law.

It was a blazing knife forged in the fires of civil war and it would strike at the heart of America.

He took out an old cellular phone she had given him and dialed the number. After a few calls to his office and a couple transfers elsewhere, the phone was patched through.

“Oval Office, this is the president’s secretary. How may I help you?”

“This is Colorado Congressman Adam Reinhart. I’d like to speak with the president.”

“He’s wrapping up a meeting, Congressman,” she said. “Would you hold for a moment?”

Adam waited about ten minutes, debating the entire time if he was ready to ask for God’s help. Before he worked up the courage to mutter a single word to God, it began to ring through.

“Adam Reinhart,” the president said cheerfully, “to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Mr. President, I owe you an apology. I believe I spoke out of line about you last night. This business with Joe’s death is a hard thing to get over and though we may not agree on everything, I do know what I did was wrong. I apologize, and I wanted to say that I think it’s time we come together and bury the hatchet.”

“Well, that is a nice surprise,” the president said after a pause. “I would be delighted for us to finally meet. I believe if we make a photo-op out of it, we might be able to unite more of the country behind this new law. Will you be in DC over the next couple of weeks?”

“Actually, Mr. President, as impressive as the White House is, I’ve had enough of Washington for a while. I’m thinking it could be a little less formal, and I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve got quite the home out in Virginia. I hope I’m not imposing, and I don’t think I need to ask you this, but tell me, Mr. President, how’s your aim?”

C
hapter
E
ight

Lions and Men

The cry of the rifle’s blast thundered down the open valley, rebounding off the huge horse barn and echoing back to where Lukas Chambers and Adam Reinhart lay prone. Adam looked through a long rangefinder, watching the bright orange steel plate far down the range as he waited for the impact. Four seconds after the magnetically enhanced gun had sent the projectile onward, the bullet penetrated the target, throwing up earth directly behind it that danced in the mirage of a hot Virginia day.

“Hit!” Adam shouted.

“Say what you will, Congressman,” President Chambers shouted back while looking through the computer controlled glass that was more of a telescope than a rifle scope, “but I will take my Chambers Forty-Six Caliber Custom Battle Array System and a flight-assisted, armor-piercing bullet that can still penetrate a quarter inch steel at two thousand yards over that old Garand of yours any day.” The president took a deep breath, waited three seconds, and launched another round that found the target once again.

“Your turn, Mr. Reinhart.”

“You know,” Adam said as he took his rifle and sighted in a much, much closer target, “it’s hard to argue with you—”

“Isn’t that a fact,” Lukas interrupted.

Adam laughed a forced laugh, though he wanted nothing more than to slug the man. “Well, not all of us can afford a second mortgage just to buy a gun and a four hundred dollar bullet, so I think I’ll stick with what I’ve got.”

Adam paused and then pulled his trigger. The concussion on his rifle was far less vicious that that of the president’s behemoth, but his shot still found paper at four hundred yards.

“I’m still partial to the thirty-aught-six,” Adam said. “But you know what, I have to agree. That is a fine weapon your company has created.”

“Well, being a billionaire and the leader of the free world does come with perks,” Lukas said with a grin. “But I am no longer the owner of that company anymore, am I now? I fear I signed away my life’s work to pass that treaty. I hope the same cannot be said for your efforts to stop it. But enough about that for now. Where did you get that old battle rifle anyway?”

“My great grandfather lost his Thompson after he bailed out of a burning plane on D-Day. He found this on a dead soldier the next morning and carried it with him until he set foot back on American soil a year and a half later. So yeah, it might be used, but it was used for a good reason and it still shoots straight.”

Lukas laughed and went on talking as he stood up. He motioned for one of his men to pack up the two men’s rifles. “It is a nice rifle, Mr. Reinhart. It really is. It is pretty rare to see someone with something so nostalgic still out putting rounds through it. I like that about you. The way I see it, guns were made to be fired and not for sitting idly in a display case. Now how about we smile for the press and go for a little walk back to the house to talk? Don’t worry about your guns; I’ll have the guys clean up everything here and it will all be waiting for you when you leave.”

Lukas stood up and slung a shotgun over his shoulder. Adam nodded and after they had smiled for the hovering press-drones, answered the few questions the reporters had for them, he picked up his leather shoulder bag and the two began to walk back toward the mansion.

The ‘guys’ Lukas spoke of were the twelve Secret Service members that had watched Adam’s every move since he had first picked up his rifle. Lukas had made a joke about the snipers surrounding them on that hot late-May afternoon as the two of them spent the hour shooting. Had Adam wanted to turn his rifle on the president from the get go he doubted he could have pulled the trigger without first being dropped by one of the many hidden shooters that held him steady in the crosshairs. Not to mention the six drones that hovered above Lukas and the two above Adam, all aiming their deadly weapons at the congressman and ready to open fire should their artificial intelligence program get the wrong idea about him. Elizabeth had been right. An assassination would be nearly impossible. For the time being, Adam would have to laugh, joke, and talk with the man he wanted little more than to kill. Adam was as vulnerable as a wounded man carefully making his way through a labyrinth of blind and hungry lions and he would need to pretend to be one of them if he wanted to make it out alive with what he had come for.

A few minutes later, the two of them were talking casually as they approached a large pond full of mallards. Lukas stopped, bent down to pick up a stone the size of his palm, and turned to the pond. He took aim and tossed the rock into the middle of the water. The birds let out a cry and took off as one giant cloud of white and green, flying fast toward the horizon. Lukas unslung his shotgun, took aim, and fired into the flock. One duck cartwheeled in midair and fell fast toward the field beyond the pond. Lukas laughed and turned to Adam.

“Not bad for a man that spends most of his time behind a desk. I used to do that almost every day to stay sharp after I first bought this place. As much as time has changed me, I must say that never gets old.”

Adam started to walk over to where the dead bird had fallen so he could retrieve it. “I thought it was long past bird season,” he said.

“Don’t bother with it,” Lukas said. “There is no need to walk all the way over there and search for one lousy duck. It increases the dog’s morale when they find it and what the dogs do not find, the coyotes pick at, which in turn keeps them away from the horses. And it keeps me feeling . . . alive. You see, everyone wins.”

“Everyone but the duck,” Adam replied dryly.

“Oh come now, Adam. Tell me, what is the fun in owning all this land if I cannot even do what I want with it?”

“Isn’t it illegal to hunt out of season even on your own land?” Adam asked.

“Would you try not to get your panties all tied in a knot? You need to relax. Oh, I guess you are right. Perhaps we should change that law. I do not know why I have not thought of that yet.”

“Mr. President, I think stuff like that is meant to be decided by the state, not us. I don’t think we are allowed to go around and make up whatever laws we want.”

Lukas paused and looked at Adam with a conniving little grin on his face. After a moment he racked the shotgun to eject the spent shell, swung it back onto his shoulder, and continued to walk toward the house.

“Well,” Lukas said without turning around, “maybe we should be.”

Adam almost tripped over his own two feet. If Lukas was bold enough to joke about a desire for total control with someone who was practically a stranger, then he must truly expect his endeavors unstoppable. Though Adam had decided to play along with the president’s games and charades, he couldn’t find it in him to agree with him at all on a statement as bold as that.

They walked for about ten minutes before they rounded a long stone wall that revealed the house behind a grove of weeping willows. Lukas’ mansion was a huge French Colonial surrounded by towering trees. A wrap-around porch made of brick and stained oak rested underneath its second story twin. Massive white columns held up the upper level deck, thrusting out from beneath the porch with all the authority of the looming trees around them. Two chimneys that stuck out from each side of the roof stood tall against the clear blue Virginia sky. One of two double doors remained open, welcoming Adam into the lion’s den.

The two men continued to talk as Lukas led Adam through the house and to his office. Inside, dark blue wallpaper with gold stenciling plastered the wall between Lukas’ many framed diplomas and plaques of recognition. A long window framed a view of the forest and rolling hills behind the house. The eight drones silently filed into the room, followed by three Secret Service agents. Two of the men took up positions standing to each side of the president while one remained at the door, behind Adam. Lukas poured two glasses of scotch—which Adam guessed cost more than his daughter’s braces—and sat down behind his large, overly excessive desk. He handed Adam one of the glasses and gestured for him to take a seat. Adam set his leather shoulder bag on the floor and sat down in a chair that had been lowered to sit just below the height of the president’s seat. After a few more jokes back and forth Adam knew the time had come to begin his dangerous dance with the devil.

“Mr. President, I really do appreciate you meeting me today. I hope I’m not impeding on you and the first lady.”

“Call me Lukas, Adam. No need for formalities here. And it’s just me here today. Maria’s back in Europe on diplomatic business.” The president paused and took a sip from his glass. “She’s a fine wife, that woman. More than a man could wish for. Indeed, I do not know where I would be without her. However, I do appreciate your thoughtfulness with the matter.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pres—, ah, I mean Lukas,” Adam said with a small laugh. He said it as though he struggled to call the man anything other than
Mr. President
. In reality, Adam was happy for an excuse to refrain from dishonoring the title.

“Adam, the pleasure is all mine. After Dulles and the memorial, I really wanted to meet with you. I guess time never afforded us the opportunity, did it now?”

“Time and my ignorance, I think,” Adam said.

Lukas smiled victoriously. “At least a leopard knows itself by its spots. But who would you be if you did not speak your mind. Less than a man . . . I believe. What was said has been said and I harbor no hard feelings as long as it remains a thing of the past. It is only ever politics, am I correct?”

Adam nodded in agreement. “Well I am just happy you could meet me so quickly.”

“Hardly fast enough,” Lukas replied. “I would have met earlier; I hope you understand, but after the treaty passed we had such a high rate of people flocking to take advantage of the new program that I could not spare a moment.”

The new law had started the largest gun run the nation had ever seen. Almost everyone wanted to get their hands on one of the new firearms. The new guns made the weapons of yesterday look like a child’s play things. People had their choice between space-age tactical assault weapons or something finished with the highest grade of polished synthetic wood; all of which were printed on demand and virtually free to the public. The people could order their gun of choice with a computer or their nVision displays, grab their existing firearms for the exchange, and have the new guns delivered via drones within an hour. The drones took care of everything from delivery of the new firearms, collecting of the old, and dropping the exchanged guns off at one of the many destruction sites around the country. Rifles with built-in automatic range finding scopes and high capacity short-barreled shotguns with literally no recoil had been among the most popular. The president had stayed true to his word and handed over his ownership of H.C. Industries to the government. Between his old company and the other big manufacturers, pre-production was in full swing before the law was even passed. Best conservative estimates were that well over forty percent of American gun owners had happily turned in their old firearms for a new Chambers System in the first two months and there was no sign of the craze slowing down.

“I understand,” Adam said. “So is that monster of yours going to be included in the list of available firearms?”

Lukas threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Oh god no. I highly doubt it would pass as appropriate for the average citizen. Besides, it lacks the new tech. But I will make you an offer. I would be willing to trade you my rifle for your little piece of history you had back there. That might be the only way I can get you to participate in the new program. Come to think of it, you deserve more than that. The Reinhart family deserves it. Take my rifle. I’ll have it waiting for you when you leave today. It is my gift for everything your family has endured over the past eight months.”

Adam almost lunged at the man. He wondered what the penalty would be for attempting to rip the president’s head off in his own home. His guess was that as they spoke some sniper had him in his sights and he wouldn’t make it off the ranch alive if he laid a finger on Lukas. He doubted, however, that even the sniper would get to him before the president’s guardian angels filled Adam with lead when they interpreted his quick and violent movements as a threat. Adam slowly unclenched his fist and decided knocking the president out of his chair would be about the worst of plans, though that didn’t stop him from imagining it.

“Thank you, Lukas,” Adam said, surprising even himself with how calm he remained, “but I don’t know what I would do with something like that. In fact, I’m not here to receive your gifts or favors. I wanted to come here so I could apologize man to man for what I said during the vote back in March.”

“There is no need for that. I understand you were upset about the death of your brother and you were just doing what you thought was right.”

“I know,” Adam said, “But that doesn’t mean I should have undermined you like I did. It was wrong of me and I overstepped my bounds no matter what I believed.”

“So what do you really believe about the new law?” Lukas asked inquisitively.

Adam took a sip now and almost choked.
Definitely more expensive than Eva’s braces
.

“I believe you have the best intentions in mind for the American people,” he lied. “I think you’re just trying to do what you believe is right.” The last part had more truth to it than Adam had initially intended.