Authors: Kevin Carrigan
The Guard Command Sergeant Major stepped forward and said, “Governor, we have mobilized almost every Guard unit in the state. Many are already here, others are in transit, and others are standing by. The Governor of Ohio has offered us some troops as well. Lieutenant Governor Purnell’s actions to integrate the Guard troops with the state and local police forces were extraordinarily successful. We now have hundreds of patrols systematically running throughout the city. Although the rioting had been heavy throughout the night, there have been few reports of any major violence this morning. We think the RenCen explosion had such a profound impact on the citizens of Detroit that even the worst offenders stopped what they were doing and simply went home to be with their loved ones.”
Clark took a minute to let the information he had just received soak in. He then turned to Purnell and said, “Well done, Chris.”
“I know,” the lieutenant governor replied.
Calvin Hill, the Detroit Chief of Police, walked over to Clark and shook his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Governor.”
“Good to see you, too, Calvin,” replied Clark as he strained to get out of his chair.
“Don’t get up, sir. But I think it is imperative that you get on television as soon as possible and speak to the citizens of Detroit. Make a call for calm. Let them know that we are doing everything within our power to bring civility back to the city.”
“He’s right, Sam. The people need to hear your reassurance that the situation is under control,” said Martineau. “Thank you, Chief.”
Thirty minutes later Clark was in front of the cameras, broadcasting a message stating he wanted to restore the people of Detroit’s confidence in the state and city law enforcement personnel and other government agencies that were working diligently to reestablish peace within the city.
In the White House, President Bonsam watched Clark’s appeal with disdain. He was certain that Clark’s presidential campaign was now dead in its tracks. Delgado had exceeded his expectations, and he looked forward to thanking him in person. Bonsam was surprised though, that Delgado had not yet reported in.
Chapter 55
Later that afternoon Clark and Martineau returned to City Hall. They were both feeling much better now that they had had a chance to grab a shower, eat a hearty meal, and catch a couple of hours of sleep. Clark’s key staff members from Lansing had arrived a few hours earlier and had just finished setting up a temporary Governor’s office located down the hall from the command center.
Brett Mason and Emily Kates were all smiles as they greeted Clark upon his arrival to his new office. Emily rushed forward and gave Clark a big bear hug. “You’re the first person I’ve met who has been in a helicopter crash,” she said. “It’s great to see you safe and sound!”
“It’s great to see you, too, Emily,” he replied. “Brett, nice to see you, too,” he said as he reached out and shook Mason’s hand.
“Welcome to your new digs,” said Mason as he led Clark into his temporary office. “You’ve got a line of people waiting to see you, Gov. The FBI is here in full force. Before I go I need to pass on a message I just received that I think you’ll find interesting. A superintendent from the Ontario Provincial Police wants you to call him. He says they nabbed the group of yahoos responsible for that horrific murder of the hardware store owner in Cass Corridor. He wants to turn them over to us, and these are his words, ‘without all that mucking about with extradition.’”
Clark took the note and smiled. “Have Chief Hill give him a call. In the meantime go ahead and send in the FBI.”
“They are in the command center, Gov. It would probably be easier if you just went to them.”
Minutes later Clark entered the command center. He walked over to a bank of monitors where Martineau was standing. As he approached she said, “Governor Clark, this is Special Agent Kenneth Gibson. He is the lead investigator of the assassination attempt.”
“Good to see you again, Sam,” said Special Agent Gibson. “However, it would have been much nicer to see you under different circumstances.”
“You two already know each other?” Martineau asked.
“We go way back,” said Clark. He turned to Gibson and said, “What have you got so far, Ken?”
Gibson pulled out his notebook. “The three men killed by the Secret Service all belonged to a Michigan Militia organization.”
“Funny how quickly the president’s press secretary knew that,” Martineau said.
“Their organization, however, operated independently of the true Militia. It had strong ties to the KKK. The leader was a man by the name of William Seward Lane. The other men have been identified as Bud Kenner and Spencer Boyd. All three are from Washtenaw County.”
“An assassination attempt on the president seems like a pretty bold move for an organization such as this,” Clark stated.
“That’s where things fall apart. None of them ever even finished high school. Lane was the only one to get a GED. Boyd and Kenner couldn’t even spell GED. They had no military experience or military training of any kind. They were just your everyday yokels,” said Gibson.
“I think I see where you’re going with this,” said Clark. “Go on.”
“To me it is obvious that there is absolutely no way these three hayseeds could ever get past the Secret Service operations, let alone the Palace’s security force, heavily armed and loaded for bear. Not even with inside help.”
Clark and Martineau exchanged glances. They were beginning to have the same suspicions.
Gibson continued, “And from what we can tell so far, the explosives used to knock out both the power and backup power to the Palace were uncommonly sophisticated and planted at the precise locations that would cause the most damage.”
“I’ll bet you’ll find that the same types of explosives were used on the Marriott,” said Martineau.
“We are already looking into that, ma’am,” Gibson replied.
There was a long silence. Clark shook his head and said, “This doesn’t add up.”
Gibson paused. “I have something else you need to take a look at,” he said as he moved toward a bank of monitors. “These monitors are synchronized to show the moments leading up to the assassination attempt from every possible camera angle. Watch this.”
Gibson hit the play button and the footage of Bonsam’s speech rolled across the monitors. Clark and Martineau stared at the screens. As the moment of the assassination attempt neared, they stepped closer to the monitors. Seeing the president come under fire was just as shocking now as it was the first time they had witnessed it.
“This time I am going to play it in slow motion. I’ll also turn the sound up. Pay particular attention to Bonsam the moment before the bullets began to fly. Watch as he says the word ‘election.’”
Clark and Martineau leaned even closer to the monitors. They watched intently as the slow motion voice of Bonsam spoke out, “…before… you… tonight… on… the… eve… of… history’s… last… election…” A second later Gibson hit the pause button.
Gibson looked at Clark. “Did you see it?”
Martineau was puzzled and she looked back and forth between Gibson and Clark. “What?”
Clark slowly stood up straight and continued to look into the monitor. “He flinched,” he whispered. He turned to Gibson and said, “He flinched before the shots were fired. He knew what was coming.”
The three of them stood in silence for several minutes as they mulled over the significance of what they had just witnessed. Finally Gibson said, “Sam, the FBI is going to get to the bottom of this. My team will continue investigating this around the clock. But Sam, don’t share this information with anyone. At this point, I don’t trust anyone, especially the president.”
Clark shook his head and said, “I understand.”
Gibson started to turn to walk away, when Martineau piped up, “Wait, wait, wait! Play it again. Listen closely to what Bonsam says.”
Gibson and Clark exchanged glances. Gibson hit the play button and the slow motion footage ran again. “…on… the… eve… of…”
“Listen, listen, listen!” whispered Martineau.
“…history’s… last… election…”
Clark got it. “History’s last election? What in the hell did he mean by
last
election?”
Chapter 56
Clark, Martineau, and Gibson left the command center and returned to Clark’s office. Martineau could not get the phrase, “history’s last election” out of her mind. “Sam, Ken, what do you make of Bonsam’s use of the words ‘last election?’ He didn’t say that by mistake, it had to mean something.”
“I have to agree with you, ma’am,” replied Gibson. “It seemed totally out of place.”
Before Clark could reply, Emily entered the office. “Governor Clark, there is someone here to see you. He’s sitting in the lobby.”
Clark looked at Emily and waited. He waited some more. “Well, who is it?”
“He won’t say, sir.”
“What do you mean he won’t say? I am way too busy to be meeting with strangers off the street, Emily. And how did he get past the Secret Service to reach your desk?”
“He has some sort of badge that made the Secret Service guys stand up straight and call him sir. They waved him right through.”
Clark squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He then looked up and said, “Okay Emily, bring him in.”
As she left the office, Martineau looked at Clark. She shrugged her shoulders and stuck her hands out to her sides, palms up. Clark looked back, shaking his head in exasperation. Gibson took a seat on the couch so he could have a good view of the meeting.
Both Clark and Martineau were taken by surprise as the man entered the room. They were not expecting a young, handsome man who was dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He was not someone you would expect to be carrying around a government badge of any kind, let alone one that would get you past the Secret Service.
He stopped in front of Clark’s desk, but he didn’t speak a word. Clark looked into his eyes, wondering what was going through the mind of this unexpected visitor.
Emily was standing next to the man, gazing at him adoringly. Clark broke eye contact with the man and looked over at Emily. “That will be all, Emily,” he said as he returned to meet the man’s stare. Emily gave the visitor a quick look up and down then turned and walked out of the office. At the sound of the door closing, the man spoke.
“Good morning, Governor Clark. My name is Clayton Jackson.”
Clark was still perplexed. “What can I do for you, Mr. Jackson?”
“You can help me bring down Emmanuel Bonsam.”
Chapter 57
Clark and Martineau looked at each other in disbelief. Gibson leaned forward.
“
Bring down
Bonsam
?
What is that supposed to mean?” Clark asked.
“Sir, President Bonsam orchestrated the assassination attempt. It was completely staged,” Clay replied. “He has an army of personal agents working for him, and they are responsible for running covert operations throughout Detroit during the night of the riots in order to escalate the violence. The explosion at the RenCen, that was all Bonsam’s doing.”
Clark leaned back in his chair. “That is quite a fascinating conspiracy theory, Mr. Jackson. Do you have any evidence to support this claim?”
Clay leaned forward as he reached into his jacket pocket. “I have a truckload of evidence,” he replied, and he placed Delgado’s truck keys on Clark’s desk.