“We have received numerous threats to the Governor, Legislature, and other elected officials, including the State Auditor,” he said. That last part about Auditor Menlow being threatened was news to Jeanie. What Trooper Vasquez didn’t say was that there were only about two dozen threats, most from obvious lunatics who weren’t a real threat, but a handful of threats were shutting down the government. That’s all it took. For years, government had been convincing itself that the citizens were a threat to it. Government had developed a bunker mentality that everyone was out to get it. That was silly paranoia. Until now.
Trooper Vasquez continued, “We are implementing our plan for this. You might have seen abnormal activity. We are preparing for some large protests this afternoon. We will close the capitol campus at noon. Everyone needs to go home. Please let your co-workers know. Please report any suspicious activities or people, and especially any packages left unattended, to me or another trooper. We have dog teams coming through to sniff for bombs.”
Wow. This was serious, Jeanie thought. She thanked him and went into her 8:30 a.m. executive staff meeting with the State Auditor. The meeting was chaos.
A thirty-something cute guy with dark brown hair from the Governor’s Office was there. Jeanie thought that was weird. They had never been briefed by the Governor’s Office about anything.
The young man started the meeting by introducing himself as Jason and abruptly saying, “Sorry, but I have to go in a few minutes. The Governor wanted you to know what is going on. We’re shutting down state government for…” he paused, “a while.” He quickly added, “Essential services will continue. Law enforcement, prisons, that kind of thing. Other state employees will be sent home today or tomorrow. There’s no use having them around. No one is getting any work done. Some are calling in sick now that they have family to worry about.”
Jason seemed uncomfortable about this next part. “The Governor has been moved to a secure location.” He turned to Menlow and said, “Sir, you are fifth in the line of succession.” Jeanie knew that the state constitution had a line of succession for when there was a vacancy. She knew that it went something like Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Secretary of State, Attorney General, somebody else, and then the State Auditor. They had always joked about it with Menlow, saying “you’re just five heartbeats away from the Governor’s Mansion.”
Jason continued, “Mr. Auditor, you need to be in a secure location. You can bring your immediate family and two staff members. That’s it. You need to tell your trooper who is coming with you. Your guests will need to have all their personal effects and some photo ID and be here by noon.”
The room fell silent.
Menlow just nodded slowly. He was taking it all in. He felt that adrenaline surge. He loved this. “Secure location” and body guards. He felt so much like the Governor already. This was fabulous. During the upcoming campaign season, he could say that he had been evacuated with the Governor. That would get him votes. People would view him as a key player in a crisis. This was awesome. He wanted to smile but didn’t since it would have been wildly inappropriate.
“I’ll take Tony,” Menlow said. That was his Chief of Staff, Tony Walker. Jeanie didn’t actually know Tony well, but knew that he was a long-time state agency manager. He wasn’t a Kool Aid-drinking Democrat; he stayed out of politics and basically managed people. Jeanie thought he was a nice, but boring, guy. He was about to retire, so Jeanie didn’t pay too much attention to him. She had a direct connection to Menlow—getting him elected and trying to get him elected to the next job—that put her outside of Tony’s control.
“And Jeanie,” Menlow said.
Jeanie felt a surge of pride. She had made the traveling squad. Of course he picked her. He needed political advice now even more than ever. She nodded to Jason.
She thought about her boyfriend, Jim. He was deployed now, anyway, so she didn’t need to worry about that. Her cat could stay with a neighbor. She didn’t have kids, so she was free to go have a big adventure. A scary adventure, but a once-in-a-lifetime one, nonetheless.
This would be so awesome when everything calmed down, she thought. “Let me tell you the story about when I was evacuated to the Governor’s secret location during the protests,” she would tell people. How cool was that?
Jason looked at his watch and said, “I need to go brief the Secretary of State in a few minutes.” He had to give the mandatory pep talk part now. “This is just a temporary thing. A few days. The protests will peter out. People are mad, but soon they’ll realize we all need to make some sacrifices. We’re Americans. We’ll get through this.”
Jeanie was mentally rolling her eyes. That spiel might have worked on her a few years ago when she was a flag-waving Republican. But, the more she saw firsthand how government really worked, the more she knew why the country was in the situation it was in. And she knew the country wasn’t just going to “get through it.” America wouldn’t get through this in one piece with things being like they had been. America would be a worse place when all was said and done.
Jeanie hated to admit it, but the more she was in the upper levels of government, the more she wanted the “secure location” kind of perks. She loved being briefed by the Governor’s Office. She felt so important. She really liked the idea of being Governor Menlow’s press secretary. Really liked it.
Jeanie and the rest of the staff of State Auditor’s Office were lucky they left the office early that day. That evening, the same evening the Team evacuated the gun store, a giant protest enveloped the capitol. Most state office buildings on the capitol campus were vandalized. Some had small fires. The few state employees remaining in their offices were dragged and beaten. One died. This was serious.
Chapter 57
The Mailroom Guy
(May 5)
The protestors didn’t just plan to attack state offices. A few of them, the most rabid left-wing union organizers, planned to go after WAB’s building, too. They had always hated WAB and now it was payback time. Besides, the cops couldn’t stop them, so why not trash the place?
WAB’s office building was beautiful. Nestled in the historic district of Olympia, it was a former brick mansion of a timber baron from days past. It was on the registry of historic buildings. The former mansion was a brick building with two huge trees in the front. Inside, the building had ornate woodwork. The office was majestic and grand.
A few hours before the protests hit, Tom Foster had sent the WAB employees home. He wanted to stay there because he felt like the captain who had a duty to go down with the ship, but that would be stupid. He knew these protestors would be vicious. Having grown up poor in Detroit, he understood violence.
As noon approached, the last people in the office were Tom, Brian, Ben, Eric, and Carly the young intern. So was Jeff Prosser, the mailroom guy.
Jeff was an interesting guy. Most mailroom guys are. Either they are in a band or are working on a book. Either way, they’re interesting. Jeff was a part-time WAB employee and was a full-time farmer. He had a small farm out in the sticks, about ten minutes from Olympia. He was a country boy, and really smart.
Over the past few weeks, Tom noticed that Eric had been getting more agitated and angry. He really hated the government. Everyone understood why and agreed that things were bad, but Eric was taking it personally. Sometimes Tom wondered if Eric would go off and attack someone. That afternoon, he came into Tom’s office where Brian, Ben, and Jeff were and began to say some disturbing things.
“This is it, guys,” he said excitedly. “It’s on,” he said, referring to the next wave of protests that would coming in a few hours. He started to yell. “Now’s our chance to smash these assholes in the mouth. Beat them down. They have destroyed this country.” He looked at all of them for support. They just stood there. Smashing mouths? That seemed a little over the top. Eric was scaring everyone in the room.
Eric went on, “I’m going to mix it up with these protestor shit bags. Who’s in?” No one said anything at first.
Tom said, “You should go home, Eric. I hate these people, too, but you’ll be outnumbered…”
“I’m sick of being outnumbered!” Eric yelled. “I’m sick of it. The libs should be afraid of us. We outnumber them!” He stormed out of the office.
Ben said, “He’s just a little amped up with all that’s going on. Let’s get on with this and go home.”
Jeff closed the door to Tom’s office. Carly was a few offices away down the hall. Jeff liked Carly but he didn’t know her well enough for her to be hearing what they were there to talk about.
Jeff handed each of them a piece of paper. He and Tom had worked out a plan a few days earlier when it looked like things might be going bad.
“Here are the directions to the Prosser farm,” Jeff said. He had a few extra copies and tore them up. “I’m not real interested in the protestors finding these and coming out,” he said.
Brian asked, “You have enough space for three families?”
“Yep,” Jeff said proudly. “We have a big old farmhouse, and a guest house. No problem. Just bring yourselves. Any extra food and guns you have would be welcomed.”
“What about gas? I’d rather not have gas cans in my car with my kids in there,” Ben said.
“Got you covered,” Jeff said with a big smile. “I have 500 gallons of diesel in my farm tank. I use it for the tractor, but it also works in my diesel pickup and Jeep.” He paused and grinned, “Of course, it’s dyed off-road diesel so it would be illegal for me to use in a vehicle off the farm.” He was referring to pink-dyed fuel for off-road use that was not subject to the highway fuel tax and therefore couldn’t be used in vehicles that went onto the highway. Given what was going on right now, worrying about a law like that seemed so silly.
Brian said he wasn’t sure his wife would like staying out at a farm. “Remember, this is only temporary. Maybe a day or two until the protests calm down. No offense, Jeff, it’s just that my wife is a city girl and probably won’t react too well to this farm thing.”
“Understood,” Jeff said. “No problem. We have games and things for the kids to do. We’ll have your kids feeding the horses. I’ll even give them a little hoe and they can be junior farmers. I have little straw hats from when my kids were little. Your kids will love it.”
Tom looked at the clock. It was almost noon. “We all have each others’ cell phones for last minute questions. Let’s get out of here. See you guys tonight at my place. Thanks again, Jeff. We owe you big time.” Tom had the feeling that this was the understatement of a lifetime.
“Hey, I’m just glad to have company,” Jeff said. “This will be fun. I’ll turn you city boys into farmers in no time.” It was obvious that he was thrilled to be doing this; the mailroom guy was finally the center of attention.
Ben said very emphatically, “No one knows we’re going out to your place, right?” He was asking Jeff and everyone else. “I’m serious. No one—I mean no one—outside your immediate family can know where we’re going. I have a bad feeling about these protests. These people really hate us and there are tons of nut jobs out there.” They all nodded.
As Tom was watching Ben, Brian, and Jeff leave his office, he had the strange sensation that they were all going into exile. But, of course that’s not what we’re doing, he thought to himself. It’s just a few days on a farm, right?
Chapter 58
“You gonna eat that pickle?” II
(May 6)
The Team left Mrs. Nguyen’s and went two doors down to Pow’s. He checked his phone. There was that text from the unknown number.
“Shit!” Pow yelled. “Guys, guys, get over here. Looks like we have a mission.”
Pow’s excitement got the Team’s full attention. “OK, looks like Grant needs us,” Pow said. “Short version is that we need to get his family and bring them out to the cabin. He says we can stay out there as long as we want, and to bring lots of hardware. Bring all of it. All of it.” They smiled at that.
They went over the new plan. It was getting dark, so things would be a little hairy, but things out there weren’t yet total anarchy. They needed to do two things simultaneously: get Grant’s family, and also get their stuff ready to go out to his cabin.
“It’s not too bad out there,” Pow said, referring to the conditions in Olympia. “I can go get Grant’s family myself, and you guys can go back to your places and get your shit together. Let’s meet back here in two hours.”
They left and Pow got into his Hummer. He was carrying concealed, of course, and his AR was in the passenger seat. This would be a milk run. No big deal. His Hummer had plenty of room for the Matsons to put their stuff in.
Grant had given Pow the address in the text. He set out, keenly aware of the conditions out there. Things were still pretty calm; there were no sirens. It was like the police had either given up or were hunkered down and not driving around with their sirens on. There weren’t many cars out. A couple more crazy asses sped by. No cops. Anywhere.
Pow slowly pulled into the entrance to the Cedars. There was an armed guard under the streetlight with a pump shotgun. That’s it? Wow, this place would be a easy to take over, he thought to himself.
Pow rolled his window down and showed both of his hands as if to say, “I’m unarmed” and waited for instructions. That Hummer wasn’t a granny mobile, so maybe he’d get some more scrutiny. The guard put his shotgun up halfway and walked up to the driver’s side. How predictable, he thought. These guys were out of their minds to have only one guard, and one who just walked up to the predictable side.
Pow took his “badge” from around his neck and put it out the window for the guard to see. He yelled, “I’m here to investigate the shooting last night.” Grant had told him that in the text.
The guard saw the badge and lowered his shotgun. “Oh, hey, didn’t expect to see you guys. You off duty or whatever?”
“Nope,” Pow said, “we’re all on duty now. All leave has been canceled. I’m a plainclothes. Where is the Matson house?” He avoided actually saying he was the police because he wasn’t interested in committing any crimes, even if the police had their hands full and he would never go to jail for that.