The President asked, “Any idea who he is and if we can put a gag in his mouth?”
“We’re trying to get that information as we speak sir. However Governor Olefin, being a moderate Republican is not cooperating well with our folks. Also, it seems the Montana Representative is partial to the ’Minute Man’ crap.”
“You mean Jake Melbourne?”
“Yes; Jake Melbourne sir! He’s chairman of the ‘Ways and Means Committee’ and is the only representative for Montana.”
“Holy shit; I know that! I mean I didn’t know he was behind Holifattin and partial to the second amendment cause. Did you know that Al?”
“Yes sir. He’s quite a boy. ‘Been elected a helluva lot of times and Montanans; I don’t care whether they’re D’s or R’s or independents, they love old Jake Melbourne. He’s a rancher and talks their language. He’s put more money into Montana infrastructure than any other man in history, he’s developed jobs, state healthcare plans, and education in Montana and he has no reason to stop any time soon. Steve’s more conversant on the security aspects of the situation, but one needs to tiptoe around old Jake. He’s a trip. Also, I know he and Governor Olefin are close. Now Senator Ashley King is one of ours, but one never knows how Senator Nash Livingston will bend since he’s an independent.”
Charles Able was lost in thought for a moment, then addressed Steven Northfield, “What would it take to find out what’s going on out there, if anything, and if we have anything to worry about? ‘Seems like a hard nut to crack with so much political bullshit around. Is there anything you can do Steve?”
“Well, we have a lot of resources Mr. President. I’m sure we can come up with something.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I want you to get the FBI involved too. They have a great terrorist department and a lot of assets. While you’re at it Steve, can you get me a background on National Guard issues? Check with the attorney general’s office and see if they have a National Guard Guru. They can take the action if you think it’s necessary. Maybe it’s in their bailiwick anyway.”
“Certainly, Mr. President. Is that all?”
“Sure Steve, I have another meeting in about ten minutes with some Girl Scout tree huggers. Guess we better get busy. Al, will you stay for a minute?”
Once the Director of Homeland Security had gone, the two old college buddies could relax a bit. The President began by asking, “How are Pam and the boys?”
“Oh, the boys are trying to give their mother fits, but she’s too strong for them. All they want is more stuff. When they were little it was cute. Now that they’re grown it’s almost sick. They think they have to have everything the rich kids have.”
Charles Able guffawed at that statement and slapped his chair arm, “You are so full of it Al, always wanting to play the pauper, when I know yours is one of the wealthiest families in Virginia. We just don’t have time to see each other enough anymore do we?”
“No sir Chuck, it seems like we hardly ever see each other, even in this capacity. Pam says she misses you and Sue. Maybe next time you go to Maryland we can go.”
“Hope so. Tell me something. What do you think of Steve, now that he’s had over a year to settle in?”
“Well … I think he’s a very intelligent man, and one I would probably have picked for the job. He’s a great family man; you had that checked back to his Mayflower roots. He’s a patriot, I think. That may be his weak point you know. He may let his patriotism cloud his common sense and the best interests of your administration. I just get that feeling sometimes.”
“You’re right on the money as usual! He is the right man for the job. Shit, you know; you helped me pick ‘im. I just feel a bit uncomfortable around him at times. His family is nice even if he does have a son in Berkley”, he grinned.
“Yeah, well we can’t all be ‘Haaavuurd’ grads can we?”
“Some days I wish we were back there Al. We had a great time getting here, even though sometimes I wonder how anyone can run this freaking country.”
“Well, if anyone has the power, you do Mr. President.”
“Thanks Al, see you around the mall. Tell Pam I said hi.”
As he opened the door to leave, “Thank you Mr. President. I’ll contact Roland Franks and I’ll keep track of that other subject as well.”
Charles Able relaxed a little with that declaration. Having Al Swain ‘handle’ a problem was tantamount to having it solved. About Steve Northfield; he thought the jury was still out. To Chuck he seemed a little slow on the uptake and plodding in method and closure. He’d picked worse for his administration though.
He fixed his tie in preparation for the Girl Scout photo-op. His last thoughts as he prepared for the onslaught were, “That damned Supreme Court Judge Nominee!”
4.
He could never make fifty miles in a day, even when he was a young man and the terrain was relatively flat. He calculated another overnight at a spot which would be a bit less protected, but a lot warmer he hoped. He hoisted his pack and headed in the general direction. The sun would be kind to him that day. Walking in the filtered light was like walking in a dream. At times he could almost imagine Linda peeking around one of the large evergreens; scotch pine he thought, or maybe balsam fir. “Different trees up here than in Colorado or Utah”, he thought. These guys had to stand some really long and cold winters. He never understood how Lewis and Clark and company made it so far on so little. Those boys were his inspiration some days.
About 1:00 p.m. he heard conversation. He didn’t see any roads on his map, but that didn’t mean a logging road hadn’t been pushed through lately. He cautiously circled where he thought the voices were coming from, but they were moving as well. He decided to take a rest and snuggled up under what looked like another balsam tree. He waited and tracked the noise. At last he heard a man and a woman slowly moving through the trees. He smelled them before he saw them well. Perfumes in the woods! “Good way to draw the bears”, he thought, but he didn’t know for sure. The man was leading the way and both had large back packs. Both looked strong, handsome and tireless. They moved slowly up the slope toward ... who knows what. He waited until their voices faded into bird chirps and bug noises again and then crossed their trail. It looked like a nice game and hiking trail; probably used by a lot of hunters. He left it behind on his way northeast.
At one point he edged a cliff of about seventy feet. The view made him catch his breath; purple clouds on the horizon and green as far as he could see. Below him, he heard before he saw, three bull elk emerge from a nap and start to browse around the edges of a small park. They were big boys and one was at least a Western twelve point. He watched them knowing that thirty years earlier he would have shot one. Now ... well, that was then. He quietly moved on and they never saw nor smelled him.
He came to a small stream he’d seen on his map and found a brief level place on the up-slope to lay his weary body. He’d eaten enough jerky. He cooked himself some sweet rice and chicken and imagined he and Linda were eating Chinese food she loved so well. Talk about a way to draw the bears! He had plenty of time to wash his cup and spoon in the stream. It was about three feet across and littered with all types of wood and rock. Still, there were edible brown trout claiming it as home. He tried to convince one to