Chapter 11

Some wag wrote something in a book I once read, saying that there are ‘an infinite number of jolly things to do while waiting in a hallway’. That has never been my experience. I have a low boredom threshold to begin with and I’d already spent most of the day cooling my heels in various different places that lacked a proper wet bar and I was getting quite bored with keeping my own company. I’d had my fit of brooding already (a good and very satisfying one) and I’d quite scared the piss out of an entire room of middle-aged and elderly men that each likely hadn’t enjoyed a strong bladder flow in years, if not decades.

On the whole, it had not been a bad speech, I admitted to myself. The telling of the tale almost made it worth the hassle I had living through it!

The minutes dragged on ... endlessly. I soon became bored and then progressed to becoming utterly bored to tears. I thought about rummaging through the desk of the ambassador’s executive secretary, but she foiled me by keeping her drawers locked. Every executive secretary I’d ever met keeps a bourbon bottle hid away in a bottom desk drawer and I could almost smell hers. The higher the importance of the asshole you work for, the more likely the necessity of occasionally needing a strong nip, or even a complete liquid lunch upon occasions. I knew a charm that would magically unlock it, but gauging by the subtle wards on the rug around her desk, something would trigger if I meddled with it, so I didn’t ... but with extreme petulant reluctance.

At home, with my bag of useful goodies, magical and semi-magical components, I (of course) could have diddled it. Protection spells are one of my few trade competences, but the wards placed around her desk were likely to be damn good ones, stuff beyond what I could wrangle barehanded on just a whim ... and messing with first-class protections always takes time, and a lot of second guessing one’s self. Still ... purely as an academic practice exercise, just for shits and grins, I whiled away most of a happy hour on my hands and knees under and around her desk, interpreting the majority of the protective rune sigils and identifying (maybe) their trigger mechanisms and the activation results (nasty).

Just theoretically, for my own amusement, of course. It was an object lesson in creative ward construction that proves the premise that no matter how much you think that your own shit doesn’t stink – there’s someone else out there even smarter, and with an even more perverted sense of humor. I decided, hastily, that enough was enough, and I backed away from the rug, still on my hands and knees.

I was just getting back into the fancy (but uncomfortable) leather upholstered waiting chair in the middle of the room when a messenger ran in to the waiting area all huffing and puffing and waving some bit of paper as if it were on fire. He knocked at the ambassador’s door lightly once and trotted in immediately without waiting for entrance approval. He was also in enough of a frantic panic to deliver his message that he left the door fully open behind him, allowing a curious fellow, like myself, to move down two more chairs closer to the doorway; all the better to peer around the doorway and listen in.

Unless, of course, there is still an active warding spell right at the doorway threshold protecting those inside the room from being heard outside. Damn! Well ... it was the ambassador’s office and this room was protected by even more spells than the chief wizard’s office down the hall.

A moment later I heard Sean giggling somewhere between my ears and tickling my grey matter, and suddenly I could hear what was being said inside, as clearly as if I were in there. I could sense that the anti-eavesdropping ward was still present, as active as it was before, but yet I could now listen right in. It took me a moment to figure out what had happened, but then, when I realized, I just had to laugh. Sean had gone inside (invisibly of course) and now I was listening with Sean’s ears, safely inside those protective wards. Quite a neat trick – and probably a very useful routine to deliberately use again sometime in the future.

I could see through the doorway that Muir accepted the message and glanced at it briefly first before handing it to the ambassador for him to read. Then solemnly, he pronounced the news to everyone else, “Representatives of the American states west of the Mississippi have assembled at a conference in Chicago, and have tonight voted to withdraw from the United States, and they are calling themselves the Western Confederation of States. They have called upon all remaining US military units still west of the river to recognize their authority, divorced from Washington, and to remain and hold firm against the Deseret advance. Their state militias have been authorized to hastily assemble, and there has been a public call for volunteers to reinforce those military units that remain. Lastly, there has been a motion to formally petition the GWA for admittance, but this has not yet been voted upon and endorsed by each of the state legislatures involved, and those confirmations may take some time.”

If the room wasn’t already in complete turmoil beforehand, this pronouncement completed that task. For the next quarter hour, the confusion was too loud for me to make much sense out of any of the dozen or more conversations all running concurrently, and quite loudly. At some point the messenger left, no longer at a run but still with diligent haste, and he now shut the ambassador’s door closed behind him.

Securely shut or not and with all of the privacy wards still active, I could still listen on with Sean’s ears ... increasingly avidly.

“This news was anticipated and comes as little or no surprise,” Muir stated calmly to the room, once the noise had quieted down enough for the wise elderly wizard to be heard. “In fact, I believe that my quite adventurous young protégée sitting outside suggested that such an event would likely be forthcoming ... and most welcome to most of our eyes. General Dobbs, you have agreed earlier with the Zyphyr’s astute assessment of the meager martial qualities and especially the low morale of the western US field armies even before the order to retreat across the Mississippi was given. Speculate for us, if you would, about the likelihood of significant desertions to the new provisional Western Confederation? Of men and matériel, of course, but also leadership ... will the junior and midlevel career field officers follow?”

“In my professional opinion, Sir,” the American general confessed, rising up from his chair to address the room, “they will ... and in numbers to more than decimate the remaining forces that do remain loyal and retreat as ordered across the Mississippi. Realistically, I would count at least a full third as willing and likely to desert, with perhaps a slim majority of their battalion-grade and lower officers going with them, creating numerous small but structurally intact units. Depending upon the placement of loyal guard units with political commissars to impair their escape, the rate of defection could rise significantly higher, perhaps to about half of the units remaining. It goes without saying that most, if not all, officers and men hailing from these western states would likely support the new provisional government.”

His aide, whose name I never heard, then piped up to continue the General’s thoughts, “And yes, while the ongoing political purges of the general officer ranks has been extensive, it has been by no means complete, as my presence here tonight aptly illustrates. There’s just too many of us, colonels and general officers, that is, for the politicians and the others to directly suborn. This announcement will cause a significant rupture in the command structure, both here in the Pentagon and on the front lines. As of tonight, I think some lines in the sand are going to be drawn and a great many senior officers who have been trying to hide or remain perched on the fence, are going to have to pick sides ... and they won’t have very long to decide.”

Quite so, Colonel,” the General agreed, “And as I announced earlier, this is indeed the time to act, and by tomorrow morning, I’ll have the better part of two full brigades controlling the streets of the city and the corridors of the Pentagon itself. As for the generals commanding those three army divisions that are currently encamped near the Virginia border, I believe each of them has been suborned, and serve the others ... but we already have plans in place to neutralize those commanding officers tonight, along with their political commissars, to keep those divisions from marching on Washington ... or at least hope to extensively delay their intervention. If we fail, there will be blood in the streets by noontime.”

The American admiral sitting next to him then arose and nodded, agreeing with the general as he smoothed out the wrinkles from his dress whites, and spoke solemnly from the bible, “And his tail swept away a third of the stars of heaven, and threw them to the earth. And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she gave birth he might devour her child ... according to the book of Revelations, chapter twelve, verse four. As it was above, so shall it be below. I agree, a full third of the army and navy ... and its leadership, at a minimum, would side with us, should the nation descend into open rebellion ... which is unfortunately likely, but probably cannot be prevented. It’s going to be another American Civil War before it’s all said and done, and without the Confederacy this time, at least when the starting gun sounds off.”

“And civil revolts too ... probably everywhere,” the lone FBMA wizard solemnly stated, “with localized scattered uprisings at the very least, in the west, in the east... everywhere. With what your pupil did last night to our head office and the FBI headquarters as well ... not to mention the ruins of the White House and Congress, the entire government is practically headless. The President and nearly every member of Congress has already fled town, probably gone to the big underground government ‘end of the world’ shelter below the Greenbrier, in West Virginia. Without any visible senior command structure, the unrest is likely to grow and fan out everywhere, spreading more chaos and confusion that we can use for our own plans.

He paused and took a fast nip from a silver flask and continued, “The FBMA rank and file wizards, the majority of them anyway, will, with a little positive leadership, support any new government that shows a willingness to rule by the code of law, and not merely by bureaucratic decree. Those others have to be stopped – nearly every field-grade wizard agrees ... and now is the time, our best and only chance really, for us to fan out and start eliminating their, the others ... influenced and fully suborn agents who remain here in Washington. I do have a small cadre of local wizards assembled that we can trust, and with the help of the oversized staff GWA wizards assembled here, together we can tell if a suspect has been replaced, or just infected with the other’s taint.”

Certainly, Muir agreed, “That’s why I’ve been quietly bringing in extra wizards, nearly three dozen of them, hidden away here at the Embassy, for the last month. They’re at your immediate disposal, already waiting downstairs in the second floor assembly room, awaiting orders ... and dressed in plain, anonymous robes. Use them ... if necessary, we’ll round up everyone ... every senator, congressman and top general and hold them, until the chaff can be sorted from the good loyal wheat ... and when there is a functional replacement government”

“We’re ready also,” the senior FBI agent sitting next to the US wizard added. “Some of us, our own faction within the FBI, have been waiting for this night and we’ve got orders that are prepared and ready to be issued to every field office. We also have our own priority list of local and state level bureaucrats that need to be either arrested for later questioning, or at least removed away for decision making authority. The DC police might be another issue we’ll have to contend with, and their loyalties will be uncertain at best. Personally, I predict the DCPD will mostly sit events out with ‘benign indifference’, but if some units actively decide to support us then that will just make a slightly impossible job quite a bit more manageable. After our A-List of arrests is managed tonight, we’ll then try and deal with some of the precinct captains and hopefully add some blue to our street units.”

“As for the involvement of the Confederacy,” a tall older man with professional-grade grey whiskers and a mutton-chop large enough to require its own postal code, stated, “in accordance and full cooperation with Virginia, we have five fully war-ready armor and mechanized infantry divisions on alert at our northern Carolina border, prepared to help repel any US incursion into the Commonwealth of Virginia. Another seven divisions are at full readiness as well and all state militias and the reserves are being quietly mobilized for active service and can be counted as available in less than week.

“But,” he emphasized, “and I need to make this clear, no unit will cross over the US border without a clear and specific diplomatic invitation from a recognized government. Frankly, it would likely be better for everyone concerned if no Confederate unit ever crosses onto US soil for any reason ... especially in the event of a popular uprising or actual civil war. Our presence, despite any tactical usefulness, would undoubted cause ill-feelings that are best avoided, as I’m sure everyone here would agree. Our primary mission, as I understand my own orders from my government, is to ensure the independence and security of the Commonwealth of Virginia, specifically from the three US divisions under other’s command already waiting at the border, not to mention the potential reinforcing units, especially the western corps currently retreated across the Mississippi River.”

That was about the last of the speeches, thank goodness. I already had a horrible headache that wouldn’t quit and now I had the horrible suspicion that I’d lit the fuse for this new civil war myself!

Everyone stood as the party began to break up. There was a great deal of back-patting and hearty handshakes administered by one and all, but the senior Washington rebel leaders that had been gathered to hear me tonight had now at last all agreed upon their marching orders – to gather up their assembled minions and consult their lengthy list of ‘enemies’ and deal with them ... hastily, and undoubtedly violently; the agents and minions of the others, certainly.

As for the vaster far greater horde of fellow travelers, the useful idiots, political zealots, and the endless assortment of plain vanilla garden-variety weasels all just looking out for their own self-interest, filling up the local jails and holding cells with them would do ... until it was time, later, for some hasty show trials and perhaps a public guillotine to be placed right at Teddy Rex’s feet at the Memorial. Heck, given a bit of advance warning, I’m sure that I could find some time later on to help sharpen the blade and make sure that the garden of freedom becomes amply watered with the blood of traitors!

After a few minutes of hasty huddled small conversations, the room began to clear out quickly and most of the attendants left, except for a remaining few. Almost no one met eyes with me and more than a few took an extra step or two to their left to give me additional space. Some of them undoubtedly thought I was certifiably insane and worried that my disease might be communicable. The rest ... well, they thought I was likely bugfuck crazy too ... and if they made eye contact with me, I’d likely turn them into a newt.

Muir now took some private council with the ambassador, the local head GWA wizard, the pair of senior Commonwealth officers, the Virginian field marshal, and the British admiral.

“It will happen at the launch party Wednesday morning, I’m sure of it!” the British admiral said in a low semi-whispered tone that Sean’s ears could still acutely distinguish, “It will be during the celebration for the launch of the USS Farragut, their latest generation frigate that they’ll make their next, and probably final attempt to provoke a war with the UK over Virginia. The HMS Trident will be there, an invited guest for the ceremony ... and undoubtedly the alleged cause of whatever new mischief they intend to fabricate – so we’ll try and be ready.”

“Yes, yes,” my ambassador agreed, “we’ll be there too, almost right next to you, on the decks of the Lady Patricia, one of our own somewhat later model light cruisers of the Wilder class. A solid ship, but a bit dated, and certainly not of our newest generation. I’ve already told the ship’s captain to make damned sure that nothing is to be armed, live and loaded, small arms included, even if every crewman has to manually unload the warhead out of every single cruise and guided missile first! Throw all of the ordinance overboard, if need be, I told him. If they want to start a war against us too, then the Lady Pat, sadly, is considered expendable. Muir, did you tell him that I was dead serious about this?”

“Twice already ... not to mention a fleet order from the CNO in San Francisco himself,” the wizard confirmed, “and I’ll do a walk-through myself tomorrow night when they dock at Patuxent River Naval Base. He knows that the US is itching for some sort of provocation ... and he’s not to help provide one. He knows that his pending promotion, getting his admiral’s flag, depends upon this.”

“Same orders with the Trident’s captain,” the British admiral admitted, “and one better ... she’s already dismantling all of the fire control circuits too. Even if some traitor secrets a live round onto her, there’ll be no way to fire it off. We also brought in a special SAS squad and extra naval security units while docked at Norfolk and ordered them to ‘think nasty’ and work out anything that could go wrong ... and keep an extra close watch for infiltrators and the crew as well, throwing the first lad or lass found a hair out of their stations into the brig for safekeeping for the duration.”