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That didn't sound good... or maybe it did. I'd know soon enough.
Kaitlyn was on the phone with our Austin attorney/straw man about the construction projects when I returned. We ate lunch, she informed me the place on LBJ was all but finished, but the work on the Lake Lair on Lake Buchanan would run a few weeks into January, although the house was ready for occupancy. That was a surprise; the contractors had been saying it would be February at best.
After our meal, she told me she was going to work out, and asked with a wink if I wanted to join her and Felix. "I do, but not before we have a serious talk about our wedding; things have to be firmed up today. First, can we be ready by the 21st? I know that's soon, but to make everything else work, it needs to be then."
"Since we have the venues and caterers secured," she replied with a small laugh, "and I know where I can get the dress I want, yes, I can certainly be ready by then! But you need to spell out all the plans you've made so we can dole out the work - you're not doing everything on your own!"
"Okay, here's the way I see it. We aren't youngsters anymore, and neither are our friends, so we forgo 'bachelor and bachelorette' parties entirely. We have a rehearsal on the patio Friday afternoon, more to see how we can set it up for the wedding guests than for practice. Berta and Rene will host the rehearsal dinner at La Kiva later that evening. We'll have a few rounds of drinks and dancing, but the need for sober vigilance overrides the desire for wild celebrations until all hours.
"The wedding will begin around five on December 21, with the reception following; again, at La Kiva. The meal will catered by Los Viejos and Rosa, at their insistence. They insist, but won't share they menu with me, other than to assure me it will be amazing. I trust them, but if you just have to know, you can always work your wiles on the men and get them to tell you.
I have a spectacular honeymoon planned, with the kids in tow, but it will be delayed until sometime in January. We'll take a couple of days for just you and I to go somewhere unexpected, before joining our kids and your parents in Tennessee on Christmas Day.
"We will all stay there until the 30th, at which point I'll fly home. The plane will come get you guys on January 2, and we will take the kids skiing somewhere - maybe in Western Canada. Once everything is sorted out, we'll return to our lives, get the kids back in school, and take our honeymoon trip, which is actually being paid for by a client. I'll have a few meetings and we will have a few social obligations over the course of the week, but I'm sure you will enjoy them as much or more than I will.
"How does that sound?"
"Oh, I heartily approve of everything except you flying back here on the 30th! I know what you have in mind, and I'd like to remind you that we have thousands of highly trained and well-armed fighting men and women already in place! You aren't and never have been a soldier, so you add nothing; therefore, I expect you to either stay in Tennessee with your family, or fly me off to the secret location of our honeymoon a day or two after Christmas.
"And I'll add this: if you fly back here, I'm coming with you! If you die, I'll die with you, and our kids will be orphaned! Do you want that on your conscience?"
****
"Mr. Secretary, we need to talk - when and where can we meet, or would you prefer a secure video session?"
"You wouldn't be asking if it weren't serious, Rob, so let me check my calendar.
"Okay, the day after tomorrow, at 8 am, fly north toward Denver. Somewhere along the route, you'll receive an encoded text with your destination. We can talk this out, and you'll be home for supper. Can't have your betrothed upset with me - we might not get an invitation to your wedding!"
Ashley and I 'did bidness' in the interim, and, with a little sweetening by our side, the deals in Hungary and Romania were all but done! The overrides that would make up my payment were going to be substantial, and a long-lasting source of income for me and, most likely, even for my heirs
Kaitlyn and a local seamstress claimed to have devised the perfect wedding dress, which I was allowed to know nothing about. I assumed it must be tight and skimpy, because she ran and worked out ferociously with Felix, and ate only perfectly balanced meals. She was already as tight and taut as possible, and I warned her that if she lost another ounce the wedding was off.
She responded to that by tempting me in every way possible when we were alone, and banging my brains out when I yielded.
I complained to Felix, who laughed. "Boss, if you don't start working out, you won't survive the honeymoon! She's 110 pounds of bone, sinew, and muscle, and you've never gotten back in shape!"
I reluctantly donned my workout clothes, and he showed me just how out of shape I am - in twenty minutes! An hour after I began, he took mercy, gave me a stretching, eating, and running guide, and told me to report to the gym at six every day until he felt I could "last ten minutes in the cage with Kaitlyn."
He made me start at five the next morning so he could set me free at six, and I managed to shower, dress, and make it to the plane just in time for takeoff. I told Addy to let me know when she got the encoded message, took a handful of ibuprofen, and collapsed on the couch in back.
My pilot didn't get the sophisticatedly encoded message, I did; my phone began playing George Strait's Amarillo by Morning. I reported to Addy, who said, "Ten minutes, so no more snoring."
The control tower directed us to a large hanger with a corporate logo, where we saw a nondescript plane and a large number of fit men with guns were waiting. She taxied up, our plane was pulled inside, and we were required to deplane.
A very large and fit man in a dark suit man escorted me to the other plane; Addy stayed outside, eyeing and being eyed by the contingent of fit men surrounding her and our plane. I wondered if she would be able to fly me back if they all did what their eyes said they wanted to do.
Secretary Yonkers was hospitable, but hurried. We exchanged greetings, handshakes, bro-hugs, and got down to business. "Considering the size and makeup of the inaptly named 'Freedom Force', and the fact that a significant portion of them are based in at least one foreign country, why is the United States putting its fate in the hands of a bunch of 'irregulars' when you have Army, Air Force, and Marine forces that could easily interdict whatever they throw at us?"
The secretary rather lightly answered, "You don't know much about the makeup of the Rough Riders and Rangers, or the role the Texas Air National Guard will play early on, and that's by design. Believe me, Rob, I'd be thrilled to go to war anywhere and against anyone with the men at Crescent Moon and those clustered northwest of Big Spring, and I'd gladly fly with the pilots of the Texas Air National Guard.
"The contingent of men that will be in place by next week will be the most carefully screened, selected, and trained military group outside American Special Forces. In fact, all of them are former members of our military or the forces of an ally, and many served with distinction in some branch of special forces. Even including the Chinese, North Korean, and Russian weaponry so kindly left for us, the armaments at their disposal are greater and better than any fighting force on earth, outside than the US military. I have total confidence that they will handle the motley zealots that will be in the vanguard of the incursion; if I didn't, we would look to other plans.
"This is planned for the end of the holidays for a reason; our regular forces are at minimal strength due to the number and percentage on leave. This 'insurrection' has been years in the planning, and those pulling the strings have knit together a disparate assortment of disaffected elements from across the political spectrum. They are a single-purpose amalgamation; they intend to seize control of four states, cause havoc in four more, and that, they believe, will lead to a popular uprising, the overthrow of the federal government and constitution, and replacement with a 'more efficient' form of government.
"Of course, should they win they will fight each other to the death trying to form, structure, and determine leadership in that government, which is why they are a single-purpose amalgamation. They can't and won't ever agree on solutions, they have no plan for governing, but somehow believe that by bringing down the government their particular ideology triumphs.
"They've taken so long to put this together that we've had time to implant moles in every defiant organization of which we're aware, including those in Mexico. All backchannel attempts to meet with them to work out grievances peaceably have been met with disdain; they believe they are prepared to conquer the chosen territories and assume control; we believe we are ready to repel them, using citizen soldier surrogates rather than regular military.
"We have chosen this route because they are big on the second amendment, and consider themselves a well-regulated militia, composed of well-trained citizen patriots. They will say they actually represent the majority of true Americans, and are only fighting for freedom and justice. If the military squashes them, they become martyrs to many.
"On the other hand, if truly well-regulated and properly armed militia force composed of citizen patriots intervenes to defeat what most others will see as a force of disgruntled rebels, homegrown and foreign terrorists, and foreign mercenaries who have invaded American soil... well, that will touch a huge segment of the recalcitrant, conspiracy-loving population in a very positive way.
"Yes, we'd like to avoid conflict, but we simply can't; these are zealots, true believers, and hired guns. Now is the right time, we have the right people with the right equipment in place, and, if they chose to attack, I have no doubt we will defeat them, and do so with minimal casualties on our side!
"As to you and yours, come stay with us after your Christmas visit with Kaitlyn's parents, or go home to the Mountain Lodge and stay in the bunker. I doubt anyplace on American soil will be safer, except the command center at Camp David where we will be. We have plenty of room there; just let me know who will be coming."
"You do know someone hired Sicarios to kill me and my family, don't you?" I asked, surprised at how that hadn't come up.
"I do, but we have eyes and ears on them 24/7, and Claude will know as soon as they move. They may be dangerous to normal men and government officials, but you are literally surrounded by a superior force dedicated to killing those who would harm you and yours; they won't stand a chance!
"About now, Claude is being briefed by Colonel Adams and his new aide, Air Force Major Mark Rogers. The major has extensive combat experience as a pilot, and recently commanded a squadron called 'The Hellhounds'. The Hellhounds pilot what the Air Force calls 'Remotely Piloted Aircraft', or RPAs, and the Rough Riders have plenty of them, plenty of pilots, and a control room that is the envy of the USAF, whose design for their 'dream facility' was used.
"Do you get the picture? And, by the way, Colonel Adam's previous aide lasted exactly two minutes in interrogation before he began telling us everything he knows, and it turns out he knows quite a lot, including the names and positions of highly placed traitors in six states!
"To say the least, the President was pissed when he learned that two members of his inner circle are traitors. The night of December 31, they will learn just how vindictive he can be, after we feed them misinformation right up to H-Hour.
"But now you need to go home and prepare for your wedding, and I need to get to Salt Lake City. I'll see you at La Kiva on the 21st!"
"Before you go, Mister Secretary, I want your assurance that no-last-name Dan and Dave aren't traitors. We have records of their communication with insurgents, and they are highly placed enough to explain some of the problems we've encountered."
"I know it looks bad, Rob, but they are double agents. The insurgents think they are sympathizers, but they are feeding them what we want them to have."
"And you're monitoring their communications, Tom?"
"Me personally, no, but it is my understanding that their communication with the rebels is recorded and reviewed."
"Would you like to hear a few of our recordings of said conversations? I'm not convinced they aren't triple agents."
"Okay, have Esteban encode and send them. I'll personally review each to determine if they are aligned with our misinformation campaign.
"Now, I really do have to go!"
Having been reassured, but still feeling conflicted, I returned to Fort Davis. After landing at Crescent Moon Ranch, I went to the Colonel's office, only to learn he was in the command bunker. They pulled a Kawasaki Mule around and took me to the bunker, which was built into the rock ledge east of the new hanger.
The colonel came to the entryway to greet me and escort me inside, and then told me to walk with him to the conference room. I looked around as I walked, and was shocked. How did they build something this size with these electronics without it becoming the main topic of conversation in the region? The practical questions screaming in my head were, 'how did I not know they built this place, where is the dirt, and how in the hell are they powering all these electronics?'
The bigger questions, like 'where did all this come from, who are all these people, and how had this effectively become "Joint Base Crescent Moon", also screamed for answers.
What I actually asked him, after exchanging greetings, was different. "Colonel, I spoke with General Yonkers this morning: our conversation answered some questions and raised other questions. When would I be able to speak with you and Major Rogers? I'd need about 30/40 minutes."
He used a walkie-talkie device to call 'Mark', who asked us to join him in the RPA center. I don't know what I expected, but scores of pilots sitting at consoles directing drones - oops, RPA - engaged in reconnaissance or combat maneuvers, wasn't part of it.
Each console consisted of a comfortable, high-back chair with airplane-like controls and three small screens across which data scrolled; behind and above those were two larger digital monitors. The one on top had crystal-clear overhead view of the 'battlefield', and the monitor below showed a close-up view of the target.
In the training exercise, some targets were human, some vehicles, some larger weaponry such as artillery or tanks, and some were SAM or other missile sites. There were scores if not hundreds scattered about the two ranches and what appeared to be the flatlands between here, Marfa, and Alpine.
As far as I could tell, there wasn't an obvious command center on the floor, but everyone wore headsets, so I assume there was a communication and coordination structure of some kind.
To be honest, it was overwhelming. A flight of F16s I could fathom, but swarms of drones commanded by skilled pilots? That was beyond my comprehension.
Major Rogers let me stand and gape for a few moments, before inviting us into his glass-walled office, from which he could see the pilots at work. A large monitor was mounted high on a steel beam in a corner; it showed the aerial view of the war games taking place on and above the 6400 Ranch.
As soon as we are inside the office, he gave me a firm handshake and said, "Mr. MacGregor, it is a pleasure to meet you. My boss - former boss, that is - General Yonkers, speaks very highly of you, Sir, and he is a man whose judgement I trust without reservation. Additionally, Colonel Adams has briefed me on your ownership of these facilities, and of your standing in the communities that make up the Brotherhood and the Rough Riders.
"I'm sure you have questions for me, and I have been authorized to answer without reservation, so please, begin."
I don't know much about the military, but I know Colonels command brigades and Majors are their executive officers. I had no idea how this worked within in the Rough Riders, with an army colonel and air force major, but Adams seemed to consider Rogers an equal. As the course of our conversation advanced, I learned that Rogers was in charge of air operations, Adams was in charge of ground operations, and that each had the equivalent of commissioned and non-commissioned officers to implement decisions.
Policy and planning had been accomplished within a very small circle that included Tom Yonkers and these two gentlemen, but they alone would make decisions during the upcoming insurgency. As soon as I got my ass out of this room, I told myself, I will have Esteban do the deepest dig in history on these two, even though Adams had already been deeply vetted.
With the firepower at their command, they were the most dangerous men in Texas - maybe the US - not titled Commander in Chief or Chief of Staff!
By all measures, they came across as forthcoming, sincere, upright, and honest, but I knew neither well enough to be trusting in this situation. Tom vouched for them, and I knew Tom, but something about his "presentation" today bugged me. I wanted a conversation with him, but what I got was a sales job.
"Thank you, Gentlemen. You have certainly illumined me today. I know nothing of your schedules, but I'm hosting an engagement party the day after tomorrow, the community is invited, and I would appreciate it if you attend. If you have someone you want to bring, we can arrange to have them picked up tomorrow or Friday morning and flown here."
They looked at one another, discretely nodded, and smiled at me. Adams said they would be honored, but neither had anyone to bring, and asked what time. "Would sometime between noon to mid-night work? We're providing a catered buffet and soft drinks at the largest pavilion in Davis Mountains State Park, complete with a band that plays Tejano and country music.
"That's for the community as a whole, and ends at six. The party then moves to my house, and will continue until we get tired or the clock strikes mid-night, whichever comes first. No alcohol is allowed in the park, which is why we're having the first half there. We're getting too close to D-Day for a bunch of us to be inebriated or impaired anyway.
"Of course, that's all subject to change should either the sicarios or the Freedom Force make a move."
****
Just when you think you have all the plans made, you walk right into a tornado... or maybe it was only a dust devil. "Rob, Claude and Eva have something to tell you," my fiancée informed me with a smile as soon as I alighted at home.
Eva was glowing, but seemed anxious; Claude looked sheepish. Eva began, "We were going to save this news until after your wedding, but your darling bride pried it out of me, and insists I tell you now so we can discuss her plan... Rob, Claude asked me to marry him while we were in Dallas, and I accepted!"
"That's absolutely wonderful!" I exclaimed, just before sweeping her up in my arms and twirling her around. When I set her down, I turned to Claude and heartily shook his hand with both of mine. "I can't imagine why you would keep that a secret - it's delightful news!"
Now they both looked sheepish. Claude began, "We didn't want to detract from you engagement and wedding plans. But when Kaitlyn found out, she suggested... well, I'll let her tell you."
With an ear-to-ear smile, Kaitlyn exclaimed, "They are going to get married with us! We're going to have a double wedding! Isn't that wonderful?"
I'm not sure what my facial response was, because my brain went into overdrive reviewing all the plans for the rehearsal / dinner, the wedding / reception, and even the honeymoon. After a few seconds, a disappointed looking Claude said, "That's okay - we really don't want to impose; we'll do it another time, so you guys..."
